The Detroit Lions. Love, hate, and apathy.

Despite what some Joe/Jane Schmo beat reporters and/or columnists might write, not all of us have a love/hate relationship with the Lions. These people get paid to do what they do, because it sells papers, which is in their best interest. Some of them are very good at the hype game, while others -- well -- maybe not so good.  But in the end it all boils down to what individuals think about that team, scribes or not.

Sure, some people will always love the Lions, much like hard-core partisans will always love Republicans or Democrats, no matter how much these people keep getting ripped off by the very folks they profess undying loyalty to.

On the other hand, how can you really hate a football team? I could no more hate the Lions than I could all those leaves I have to rake in the fall. I'll get back to that.

When I was a little boy, my dad would take me down to see the Lions play at Tiger Stadium. I remember the likes of Alex Karras, Roger Brown, Joe Schmidt, Wayne Walker, Pat Studstill. Gail Cogdill, and a QB named Milt Plum, amongst others. For road games, Dad and I would hunker down in front of the TV with a ring of pickled bologna, a pack of saltines and a couple Nehis.

Fast forward. I have my first car and first real job (Dad has lost interest -- an omen?) and somehow I find a way to save up enough of my burger-flipping money to get to a game with a couple friends here and there.

Fast forward. College years. Tight budget. The Lions still in Tiger Stadium. I've met another super-fan, who drove a Coke truck, and when we couldn't afford or get tickets for home games, we'd drive up to Saginaw, barely outside the 75 mile TV black-out zone at the time, to a K-Mart on game day. It was a pretty cool set-up. They had reclining chairs in front of the bank of TV screens. Arby's was right across the street when halftime rolled around. Yeah, we got hassled initially about "moving along", but eventually they came to expect us every other Sunday and it worked out. (Bringing a sandwich and a Coke back to the guy that always seems to be on duty probably didn't hurt either.) We saw Chuck Hughes die on the field with Dick Butkus frantically waving for help on that bank of TV screens, though it wasn't confirmed until we heard it on the radio on the way home down I-75.

Fast forward. The Silverdome is built. My Coke truck bud has relocated. I've started my career at GM and, BTW, I'm married. First house, big mortgage, couple car payments, couple dogs, lots of home improvement projects -- the usual back then. The wife's not interested in the Lions, but another guy I met in the shop is. If I remember right, the end zone tickets used to go on sale at the Dome the Tuesday before the game. If you weren't standing in line outside the box office at 6:AM, you had no chance to get tickets. So one of us had to come in late for work every couple weeks. Somehow that worked out, and we'd normally go to 4-5  games a year.

Fast forward. A ton of players. A few different coaches. Saw Utley get paralyzed. A linebacker, Reggie something come perilously close to the same fate, which ended his career. I've spent literally thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of dollars, driven a lot of miles, and sat in front of countless TV screens over the years to watch them. Yep, there were good times, the most notable being when the Lions routed the Cowboys back in the early 90's for their only playoff win to date. I was there, and I can't remember ever being in a place that was louder than that. And lord knows, I've been to my share of rock concerts. It was incredible. But then the Lions got humiliated the following week and the balloon popped. More importantly, another feeling started to set in. Apathy.

Still, even though I pretty well knew the Lions were going to be mediocre at best for the foreseeable future, I hung in there for a few more years. I really don't know why other than to say perhaps watching Barry Sanders in person was worth the price of admission all by itself. Dumb? Probably, but that's the only reason I can think of.

When Barry took a hike, during his prime, no less, not to be confused with my "prime" fan years, that was good enough for me. I  walked away too. No more love, but certainly no hate. It just didn't matter anymore. That goes back to the apathy that I mentioned above.

Much has been made of Matt Millen's tenure and what a disaster it was. Like many others, I've spoofed him in the past, but I could do so objectively. You see, I had detached myself from the Lions long before he ever came on the scene. In fact, I've never been to Ford Field for a Lions game and I have absolutely no desire to do so. It would be like taking my ex-wife out to a fancy dinner and a show. I mean, what's the point?  No hard feelings and I wish them all well, but over is over.

Given my history with the Lions, I think it would be a fair statement to say I've paid my dues. The next time you read or hear a reporter talking on the subject, remember this --- chances are they never paid to get into a game in their lives. They never missed work standing in line at 6 in the morning, much less drove to a K-Mart a few counties away to watch a game when that was the only option. No, they get free parking, take the elevator up to the press box to the best seats in the house, and likely get free concessions. The late George Plimpton once wrote a book called Paper Lion. It was an interesting read about what really went on regarding that team at the time. He walked the walk, if only for a short time.

Most of the Joe/Jane Schmos have never had to pay a price, but they want to tell everybody what they should be thinking. Perhaps another book should be written about them. Paper Fan.

However, anything's possible I suppose. If the Lions want to get my attention again, then wake me up when they're in the Super Bowl. I don't want to hear about winning a division or playoffs. That's chump change for the Schmos to write about. Actually win the Super Bowl and I might consider going back to see a game. Maybe.

Until and unless that happens, I really don't care. And I might not even then.

Here's a guarantee. If there's one thing in the whole sports world that talking heads, beat reporters, columnists, magazine or on-line scribes, and anybody else associated with the like doesn't comprehend --  it's apathy.

Someone much wiser than I am once laid some heavy thoughts on me. They went something like this --

The end of a relationship has nothing to do with anger, harsh words, criticism, bitterness, or feelings of resentment. To experience any of that means you still have an emotional investment at some level. When you become totally indifferent and just don't care one way or the other anymore -- then it's over. To try and recapture that which has slowly been lost over a long period of time is highly unlikely. Accept it for what it is and move on.

In my opinion, she had a very good point.

Those leaves in the fall that I mentioned earlier? That particular tree got cut down and eventually burned in my fireplace.  It wasn't personal. I used to really like that tree but, like the Lions, after a while it got to be more trouble than it was worth. So I moved on. (Ironically, I might not have a house at all, let alone a nice fireplace, if I hadn't stopped spending money on the Lions.)

But show me the Super Bowl, and maybe I'll plant a sapling. Just for old times sake. In a hundred years nobody's going to know the difference anyway.

Michael Vick is really a white guy?

Could have fooled me. It seems a certain 4-letter network has photoshopped a picture of him into what he would look like if he was white. Not to worry. It's only make-believe. Besides, as we all know, white guys can't run that fast. Or was it jump that high? Either way, it should come as no great surprise the talking heads are trying to stir up controversy where there isn't any. Maybe their Nielsen ratings have dipped a bit and they're desperate to make a splash. Who knows?

If they want to nip/tuck a Vick pic and put it out there -- more power to them. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if MV himself got a yuk out of it. He's back making millions as a starting QB in the NFL, and probably couldn't care less about such nonsense.

Hopefully, Vick has learned from his mistakes, and he should consider himself quite fortunate indeed. One never knows what might be coming next.

Remember, this was only an altered photo. It could have been much worse. Let's not forget that in real life the late Michael Jackson claimed his amazing transformation was natural, destiny, an act of God -- something like that. Imagine the scenario if Vick was still in prison and the same thing happened to him. One night he went to bed a macho-man, and the next morning he woke up looking like the latter-day MJ. .

Now THAT would have been a problem.

He sure would have been popular, but I don't think it would have had anything to do with autographs.

Given it was dog-fighting that landed him in the joint to begin with, MV just might have developed a whole new appreciation of dogs in general -- especially adult females.

Let's put it this way -- if Jackson had it right -- depending on when, where, and how it goes down,  that "by the grace of God" thing can turn out to be a bitch sometimes.

Yep,Vick could have done a lot worse than the NFL, millions, and a doctored pic.

Pat Summitt, legend in the making

I didn't want to write about this, because it's a delicate subject. If you've read my stuff, you know about bulls in china shops.Yet somehow I got strong-armed into doing it by my friend Deb. She can be persuasive at times. The nature of the beast, I suppose. Anyway, a promise is a promise, so onward.

Pat Summitt, the renowned head coach of the University of Tennessee's Lady Vols basketball team, was recently diagnosed by no less an authority than the Mayo Clinic, as having entered an early stage of dementia. Summit herself confirmed this at a recent press conference. She also adamantly stated there would be no "pity party", and vowed to not only fight on, but to continue coaching. Given her nature, this should come as no surprise. If there's one thing she is, besides being a great basketball coach -- it's feisty.

As far as being a coach, her stats are off the charts. 1071 wins over an ongoing career that's spanned 38 years. Simple math will tell you that equals an average of 28 wins per year. Most college basketball coaches never get 28 wins in ANY year. She's now 59 years old (sorry about the age thing ladies, but stats don't lie), and she somehow had the wherewithal to become a head coach at the age of 22. That's unheard of.

At that, it's probably a fair statement to say Summitt is one of those people that have polarized others. Some have put her on a pedestal, while others don't think so highly of her. Women probably favor her a lot more than men, and the people of Tennessee no doubt have a vastly different opinion than those in other states with competing basketball teams. I've heard her mentioned as being anything from a goddess to a lipless lesbo. Chalk it up to human nature and fans.

There are those that will point at her accomplishments and say she's the best college basketball coach of all time, men's or women's, and they would have a compelling argument. Then again, there are others who might counter by saying that for many years, there were only a handful of lady collegiate basketball teams that could even compete at a high level, so she racked up hundreds of "cupcake" wins. They would also have a good point.

Not so many years ago, small school teams like Louisiana Tech and Old Dominion ruled the roost. Then Summitt came along, swept them aside, and built a dynasty in Knoxville, including 8 NCAA National Championships. Impressive stuff.

But times, they keep a-changing. Once Summitt was queen of the rockytop, pun intended, she didn't like being pushed aside by the new kid on the block, especially a man, and more especially the man being that smart-mouthed pipsqueak fromn UConn -- one Geno Auriemma, who all of a sudden was not only winning national championships, but out-recruiting her for the best high school players.

Summitt claimed that Auriemma had cheated in one way or the other, so even though the whole country wanted to see the game(s), she refused to put UConn on UT's regular season schedule. It came across to most people as a combination of sour grapes and the fear of getting a beatdown on national TV. Besides, something's fundamentally wrong with that anyway. No coach, from preps to pros, should have any say-so as to who their team will play. This should be left in the hands of others to avoid any perception of a conflict of interest, personal or otherwise. This is not to say Coach Summitt didn't run a squeaky clean program, but you've seen the results, at various schools in various sports, of giving a college head coach too much authority. It's a recipe for disaster. But I digress.

Nowadays, the times of dynasties are likely over. Too many schools have jumped in where they seemingly had little interest before. They've spent millions on top notch arenas and facilities, hired whip-smart coaches and staffs, and have an army of recruiters beating the bushes for stars in the making. Serious competition is coming like dandelions in the spring. You never know where they're going to pop up. Who amongst you would have foreseen Texas A&M ever being crowned national champs just a couple years ago?

Regardless, Coach Summitt's place in the Hall of Fame of college athletics is already a given. I hope she hangs around and wins another 1071. Somehow I think she's just about ornery enough to pull it off.

But just for old times sake, what I REALLY want to see is her and Geno in the octagon. The pay-per-view price doesn't matter. I'll sell my Harley, take out a home equity loan, whatever it takes, to tune it in.

I'm thinking Pat would wear him down and eventually make Geno tap-out, via some sort of submission hold.

So OK, Deb. Promise made and promise kept. Please feel free to comment. I don't know how you talk me into these things.

Maybe it's because I think so highly of your girls.







. .

The Family Feud or sports? You decide

It's almost spooky how much sports has come to resemble game shows. Here's a few examples.....

Lingo.  Ozzie Guillen, manager of the Chisox. After 5 tries, I still can't understand some of those words either.

Baggage. Plaxiico Burress, Mike Vick, Terrell Owens, Adam "Pacman" Jones, etc. The list is long. Tough call.

Wheel of Fortune. Anybody drafted in the 1st round by the NBA.

1 vs 100. A Chicago Bears fan wearing a jersey in a Green Bay sports bar on game day at Lambeau.

Let's Make a Deal. General managers and agents.

Deal Or No Deal. Those same people when the player is holding out for a better contract.

Jeopardy. This gets complicated. Regular jeopardy is when a guy finds out his team drafted a hot shot college kid that plays his position. Double jeopardy is when his team went out and got a free agent for his position, and paid him 3 times what the original guy was making.

Daily Doubles? Dustin Pedroia of the Bosox.

Final jeopardy is when a guy is 40 years old, and still thinks he can put a beatdown on the reigning world champion in his weight class in the "octagon". That is a bad, repeat, BAD, idea.

Minute To Win It. You're typical major league baseball "closer".

The Price Is Right. Anybody a big market team signs in their never-ending quest to....

   1) Put them over the top for a possible championship, or....
   2) Prove they're about as fiscally responsible as the U.S. government, which results in.....
   3) An average family of 4 skipping a house payment to attend a game.

That "come on down" thing just might wind up being their credit rating.

Even some of the old game shows are still relevant. Consider....

To Tell the Truth. See Mike Vick above.

Concentration. Peyton Manning.

I've Got a Secret. Former Ohio State football coach Jim Tressel or, currently, the Miami Hurricanes.

Hollywood Squares. Offensive linemen trying to be slick with starlets on Rodeo Drive.

The Newlywed Game. When former jocks become "analysts" and will say or do just about anything on TV for a few bucks.

The Dating Game. Check the latest tweets from A-Rod and Derek Jeter. Or maybe the tabloids.

Joker's Wild.  2 words. Chad Ochocinco.

The Match Game. Outrageous  pay-per-view prices to watch the boxing bout of the century which, amazingly enough, seems to happen every 6 months or so.

Yet there's one that puts all the rest to shame, which brings me back to the beginning.

Family Feud.  Frank and Jamie McCourt, owners of the LA Dodgers (for now). Forget about doubling or tripling the points. The survey said.......

This "fast money" round just isn't working out.

Little League World Series. Rigged?

I don't know, but some very strange things are happening. Remember a few years back when the team from Taiwan was so dominant? Then it was discovered they were allegedly falsifying birth certificates so older players could compete. Hey, when you're 26, competing with a 28 year old doesn't matter. But there's a huge difference between being 12 and going up against 14 and 15 year olds.

I wouldn't be surprised if those kids got preferential treatment too. A free bowl of rice here and there, and maybe they even gave them tricked out rickshaws to pull around town. Cheating in amateur athletics? The utter nerve. I'm sure glad that could never happen in this country. Ahem.

At that, there is no more Taiwan team. Yeah, there's a team from the same island, but now they're called Chinese Taipei. That's likely our way of bowing down to Communist China, which is hypersensitive to that island having any standing of it's own in the international community. They claim it sttill belongs to the mainland.

The kids don't know the difference. They just want to play ball. Yet it's probably a good idea to grant China this small favor, because if they ever foreclose on the mortgage we have with them, they'd probably own everything west of the Mississippi.  The hell of it is -- they don't even HAVE a team in the Little League World Series. Maybe that's because they're too busy trying to figure out how to pass off 9 and 10 year old female gymnists as being 14 for the next Olympics. Remember that?

It gets worse. The Canadian team features twin brothers that are several inches taller and appear to be older than their teammates. Those kids are dominant players. Guess where they were born? Yep, Taipei. How in the hell did they wind up on the Canadian team?

And why is it the Saudi Arabian team consists of so many blond kids? They look American, talk American, act American, and have American names. There's not a Faisal in the bunch. What's up with that? Fake beards might be a little over the top, but you'd think they could at least dye their hair. Maybe even prayer mats in the dugout facing Mecca. Something's wrong here. I smell infidels. Off with their toe-heads.

Some of it's just silly. The Pennsylvania team is in the Mid-Atlanticdivision. Really? The only thing I know going on in the middle of the Atlantic, besides submarines and fish,  is a whole lot of salt water.

The Kentucky team is in the Great Lakes Division. And just what Great Lake are they within a 3 hour drive of anyway?

I dunno. Just when all the politics have died down until the next so-called Doomsday, and the sports media are catching their breath anticipating the start of the real NFL season, the NASCAR "chase", and the baseball playoffs -- WHAM -- up pops the Little League World Series with all it's shenanigans.

It's enough to drive a man to drink. Hmmm. Maybe I'll go see the Peavulture for a little rheumatiz medicine.

Phil Mickelson and his meds

If you ever watch golf, you've probably seen the commercial. Phil says one minute he's on top of the world and the next, he has this thing called psoriatic arthritis. Evidently, that disease involves inflammation of the joints and can be quite painful.

Phil recommends consulting your rheumatologist about taking a drug called Enbrel. It worked for him.

Time out. I didn't know there even WAS such a thing as a rheumatologist. While Phil has the means to go see such specialists, most of us can't afford a simple office call to our local "take 2 aspirins, drink 8 glasses of water, and get lots of sleep" doctor. There's no more of that "call me in the morning" stuff either. They're probably on the golf course. Maybe with Phil.

Anymore, if you don't have health insurance, you're lucky to get treated for a broken bone. What do you think would happen if you walked into an emergency room and told them your joints ached? Chances are you'd starve to death before your name was called to see a doctor.

But good for Phil. I hope he keeps pounding the golf ball, racking up the millions, and taking his designer meds.

In the meantime, some of us common folks have joints that ache occasionally too. What kind of remedies are available to us?

Think Granny Clampett and her rheumatiz medicine. Yep, that's the ticket. It might not cure it -- but you won't care -- at least for a little while. You see, there's this guy that goes down to West By Gawd Virginny every so often, and he comes back with -- no -- maybe I shouldn't go there.

Either that, or if you're clever enough to find the Peavulture I mentioned in an earlier post -- she'lll fix you up.

Remember Armando Galarraga and Jim Joyce?

A surprising development has occured. Are they going back to change the record books to credit AG with a perfect game because of a blown call by umpire JJ?  No..

In the meantime, probably few Tiger fans have noticed, or even cared, that Galarraga is with the Arizona Diamondbacks these days. Won 3, lost 4, and pitched a grand total of 42 innings with an ERA of 5.91. In his 5 year career, he's a sub-.500 pitcher. Not exactly the stuff legends are made of.

But every once in a while, an ordinary type athlete accomplishes something totally unforeseen, and even bordering on the incredible. Sure, they have to be fairly good to start with, but everything else has to fall in place perfectly,  In other words, there's usually a lot of luck involved as well. It almost happened to Armando, but for that one blown call at first base.

Umpire Jim Joyce was vilified nationally, and I think it's a safe bet to say he didn't want to hang out in Detroit sports bars for a while. He acknowledged his mistake, and even tearfully apologized. That's all the guy could do, but some people will never let it rest.

Yet when it comes to umpires, who really knows them best? Would you concede it's probably the players?

According to a just-released poll by Sports Illustrated amongst major league players -- guess who they voted the best umpire by a wide margin?

Yep. Jim Joyce. The 2nd place guy got about half as many votes and nobody else was even close.

So maybe he blew a call in a freak game for a journeyman pitcher, and will live in infamy amongst Tiger fans forevermore.

But he must be getting a whole lot of other stuff right for (all) the players to rank him #1.