Post by John on Jun 6, 2006 20:53:17 GMT -4
Signs of beastly quirks everywhere for NFL
By Clark Judge
CBS SportsLine.com Senior Writer
It's the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth year, and 6-6-6 is not supposed to be good. I don't know what it all means, other than it got me to thinking of what's not good about the NFL.
So I started a list. Let the name-calling begin:
1. Exhibition Games: The NFL calls them preseason games, but let's be honest: They're meaningless, they don't count, and all anyone really cares about is escaping without injuries. There are four games each summer -- five if you draw the Hall of Fame Game or are sent overseas -- and that's excessive. OK, so once you needed time to get guys in shape, but not anymore. Everyone's there by mid-June. You don't need four games. Cut it to three ... maybe two ... and use the extra time to digest T.O.'s latest literary offering or Sean Taylor's court transcripts, I don't care. Just make the exhibition season shorter. There are too many injuries that affect the games that count, and for what? Turnstile receipts? Please.
2. L.A. Fever: Enough already. It's time we admit the NFL misses L.A. more than L.A. misses the NFL. People in Southern California got by without the NFL for over a decade, and I'm still looking for the guy in West Covina who wishes he were in Cleveland in November. The NFL spends thousands of hours working on a solution to the L.A. market, but nobody stepped forward with the money for a privately-financed stadium. Hey, the rules here are simple, guys: If you build it they will come. So far nobody's building anything, which tells me something about L.A. and pro football. In the meantime, we're left with more studies of the Coliseum, the Rose Bowl, Anaheim and Space Mountain for a city that seems more than happy to watch USC and UCLA every fall.
3. Bill Belichick Injury Updates: The only people who give you less are coaches in the NHL. Let's see, it's either an upper-body injury or a lower-body injury and no more questions, please. Belichick is the Sgt. Schultz of postgame injuries. I know nuth-ING; I see nuth-ING. Try asking him about, say, that injury that sent linebacker Mike Vrabel hobbling off the field, and you get something like, "You should know me better than that." Period. All that's missing is Drew Rosenhaus barking, "Next question!" Once I heard Belichick say a guy's problem was that "he has a knee." Beautiful. I have a knee. In fact, I have two. So does Belichick. But when someone has to be helped off the field on an electric cart and has his leg immobilized, the logical question is: What happened? Answer: Don't ask Belichick.
4. Bay Area Football: Once it was as good as the view from Mt. Tamalpais. Now it's more like a drive through Paterson, N.J., in the middle of February. The 49ers and Raiders were clubs with mystiques; clubs with swaggers; clubs you loved to hate. Now they're simply bottom feeders that evoke pity. Together they're 26-70 the past three years, and if you think that's bad you're getting warm. Nobody was worse. The 49ers are on their third coach in five years; the Raiders are on their third in four. I guess that's what you call symmetry. Me? I call it another reason to spend your Sundays at the Red Hen Cantina in Napa.
5. Halftime field interviews: Tell me the last time you learned something from a coach making his way to or from the locker room. I don't need Dennis Green or Tom Coughlin to tell me what I already know. I want someone willing to tell me who blew the coverage on that Chad Johnson TD. Or how he plans to defend Dwight Freeney. Or why Eli Manning is struggling to complete passes. Instead, we have coaches talking about doing "a better job of protecting the quarterback" or tackling better or maintaining the same "intensity" in the second half his club had in the first. Christiana Amanpour, where are you?
6. Ricky Williams: Joe Theismann got it right when he called the guy "a disgrace." Williams let down his teammates and coaches in Miami when he walked away from the club in 2004. Now, he's embarrassed himself and betrayed the Dolphins by flunking another drug test, causing the league to suspend him for this season. I don't care what the substance was. It doesn't matter. Williams apparently can't abide by the NFL's rules, which is why he's in Canada today. But let's say he's cleared to return to the NFL in 2007, here's what I want to know: Why would you throw good money after a guy with a bad history? Save that one for the team dumb enough to take that chance.
7. Rookie Money: Alex Smith is the first pick of the 2005 draft, and before he takes a snap, he gets a check for $24 million. Then he goes out and stinks up the joint, and guess what? He not only gets to keep his money, but he gets a pay hike, too. Wow. What a great country. People usually are paid by their performances, which is why I'd rather see the big bucks going to veterans -- and I mean veterans beyond star players like Peyton Manning, Champ Bailey and LaDainian Tomlinson. So how do you get there? Set a salary scale for the rookies, then have them earn their money as they play. Put the money where it belongs ... in the pockets of the people who earned it.
8. Domed Stadiums: If the elements can't stop the U.S. Postal Service, how come they stop the NFL? I don't know, either, but at last count, the league had seven domed stadiums -- six completely covered, with Houston and Arizona each counting as one-half because of retractable roofs. I'm sorry, but football is not an indoor game. Neither is baseball. Both belong outdoors, regardless of what's going on with the sun, the moon or global warming. When you think back to some of the game's most memorable contests you come up with the Ice Bowl ... the Fog Bowl ... the Snow Plow Game. I can't remember anyone pining away for the Thermostat Bowl, but I'm working on it.
9. Seattle's home uniforms: Maybe Superman looks good dressed in all blue; the Seahawks don't. There are a lot of reasons to like Seattle, but this isn't one of them. Memo to Paul Allen: Either send your players to George Zimmer or have them audition for Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. They need help.
10. 40-yard dash times: Talk about exaggerated numbers. I remember when scouts would tell you they had Deion Sanders and Vance Johnson clocked at 4.19, which was astounding. It was also impossible. When Ben Johnson won the 100 meters in the 1988 Olympics -- a race he forfeited when he flunked a drug test -- he finished in 9.79 seconds and scorched the first 50 in 5.56 seconds. Experts who broke down his race into 10-meter increments estimated he went through the 40 at 4.38 seconds. Johnson was a notoriously fast starter. He was in spikes. He was on a fast track. And he had a slight tail wind. Yet NFL scouts would have you believe Deion or The Vance was faster. Hey, at this year's scouting combine they had tight end Vernon Davis clocked at 4.4, with two estimates of 4.38. I know he's fast for his size, but let me ask you: Who wins in a 40 ... Ben Johnson or Vernon Davis? Thank you.
By Clark Judge
CBS SportsLine.com Senior Writer
It's the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth year, and 6-6-6 is not supposed to be good. I don't know what it all means, other than it got me to thinking of what's not good about the NFL.
So I started a list. Let the name-calling begin:
1. Exhibition Games: The NFL calls them preseason games, but let's be honest: They're meaningless, they don't count, and all anyone really cares about is escaping without injuries. There are four games each summer -- five if you draw the Hall of Fame Game or are sent overseas -- and that's excessive. OK, so once you needed time to get guys in shape, but not anymore. Everyone's there by mid-June. You don't need four games. Cut it to three ... maybe two ... and use the extra time to digest T.O.'s latest literary offering or Sean Taylor's court transcripts, I don't care. Just make the exhibition season shorter. There are too many injuries that affect the games that count, and for what? Turnstile receipts? Please.
2. L.A. Fever: Enough already. It's time we admit the NFL misses L.A. more than L.A. misses the NFL. People in Southern California got by without the NFL for over a decade, and I'm still looking for the guy in West Covina who wishes he were in Cleveland in November. The NFL spends thousands of hours working on a solution to the L.A. market, but nobody stepped forward with the money for a privately-financed stadium. Hey, the rules here are simple, guys: If you build it they will come. So far nobody's building anything, which tells me something about L.A. and pro football. In the meantime, we're left with more studies of the Coliseum, the Rose Bowl, Anaheim and Space Mountain for a city that seems more than happy to watch USC and UCLA every fall.
3. Bill Belichick Injury Updates: The only people who give you less are coaches in the NHL. Let's see, it's either an upper-body injury or a lower-body injury and no more questions, please. Belichick is the Sgt. Schultz of postgame injuries. I know nuth-ING; I see nuth-ING. Try asking him about, say, that injury that sent linebacker Mike Vrabel hobbling off the field, and you get something like, "You should know me better than that." Period. All that's missing is Drew Rosenhaus barking, "Next question!" Once I heard Belichick say a guy's problem was that "he has a knee." Beautiful. I have a knee. In fact, I have two. So does Belichick. But when someone has to be helped off the field on an electric cart and has his leg immobilized, the logical question is: What happened? Answer: Don't ask Belichick.
4. Bay Area Football: Once it was as good as the view from Mt. Tamalpais. Now it's more like a drive through Paterson, N.J., in the middle of February. The 49ers and Raiders were clubs with mystiques; clubs with swaggers; clubs you loved to hate. Now they're simply bottom feeders that evoke pity. Together they're 26-70 the past three years, and if you think that's bad you're getting warm. Nobody was worse. The 49ers are on their third coach in five years; the Raiders are on their third in four. I guess that's what you call symmetry. Me? I call it another reason to spend your Sundays at the Red Hen Cantina in Napa.
5. Halftime field interviews: Tell me the last time you learned something from a coach making his way to or from the locker room. I don't need Dennis Green or Tom Coughlin to tell me what I already know. I want someone willing to tell me who blew the coverage on that Chad Johnson TD. Or how he plans to defend Dwight Freeney. Or why Eli Manning is struggling to complete passes. Instead, we have coaches talking about doing "a better job of protecting the quarterback" or tackling better or maintaining the same "intensity" in the second half his club had in the first. Christiana Amanpour, where are you?
6. Ricky Williams: Joe Theismann got it right when he called the guy "a disgrace." Williams let down his teammates and coaches in Miami when he walked away from the club in 2004. Now, he's embarrassed himself and betrayed the Dolphins by flunking another drug test, causing the league to suspend him for this season. I don't care what the substance was. It doesn't matter. Williams apparently can't abide by the NFL's rules, which is why he's in Canada today. But let's say he's cleared to return to the NFL in 2007, here's what I want to know: Why would you throw good money after a guy with a bad history? Save that one for the team dumb enough to take that chance.
7. Rookie Money: Alex Smith is the first pick of the 2005 draft, and before he takes a snap, he gets a check for $24 million. Then he goes out and stinks up the joint, and guess what? He not only gets to keep his money, but he gets a pay hike, too. Wow. What a great country. People usually are paid by their performances, which is why I'd rather see the big bucks going to veterans -- and I mean veterans beyond star players like Peyton Manning, Champ Bailey and LaDainian Tomlinson. So how do you get there? Set a salary scale for the rookies, then have them earn their money as they play. Put the money where it belongs ... in the pockets of the people who earned it.
8. Domed Stadiums: If the elements can't stop the U.S. Postal Service, how come they stop the NFL? I don't know, either, but at last count, the league had seven domed stadiums -- six completely covered, with Houston and Arizona each counting as one-half because of retractable roofs. I'm sorry, but football is not an indoor game. Neither is baseball. Both belong outdoors, regardless of what's going on with the sun, the moon or global warming. When you think back to some of the game's most memorable contests you come up with the Ice Bowl ... the Fog Bowl ... the Snow Plow Game. I can't remember anyone pining away for the Thermostat Bowl, but I'm working on it.
9. Seattle's home uniforms: Maybe Superman looks good dressed in all blue; the Seahawks don't. There are a lot of reasons to like Seattle, but this isn't one of them. Memo to Paul Allen: Either send your players to George Zimmer or have them audition for Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. They need help.
10. 40-yard dash times: Talk about exaggerated numbers. I remember when scouts would tell you they had Deion Sanders and Vance Johnson clocked at 4.19, which was astounding. It was also impossible. When Ben Johnson won the 100 meters in the 1988 Olympics -- a race he forfeited when he flunked a drug test -- he finished in 9.79 seconds and scorched the first 50 in 5.56 seconds. Experts who broke down his race into 10-meter increments estimated he went through the 40 at 4.38 seconds. Johnson was a notoriously fast starter. He was in spikes. He was on a fast track. And he had a slight tail wind. Yet NFL scouts would have you believe Deion or The Vance was faster. Hey, at this year's scouting combine they had tight end Vernon Davis clocked at 4.4, with two estimates of 4.38. I know he's fast for his size, but let me ask you: Who wins in a 40 ... Ben Johnson or Vernon Davis? Thank you.