Suh-per Stupid

You saw it. You didn't want to see it. You wish you hadn't seen it. But, you saw it. You can't un-see it now. As the saying goes, you can't put the toothpaste back in the tube. Unless, of course, you cut open the tube, scoop up the wad of paste, and well...you get the idea.

It was a stomp. They called the penalty kicking, but it was a blatant, purposeful, violent stomp. Not to mention incredibly stupid. Ndomukong Suh stomped Evan Dietrich-Smith like he was on fire.

In fact, that might have been a more plausible excuse than the one Suh gave.

A la Ricky Bobby, "I thought the invisible flames were going to kill him, so I stomped on his arm to put them out." Works for me. Much more than, "I was losing my balance."

Football is a game built on emotion. Without it, you're nothing as a player. But football is also a game of control. Control the line of scrimmage. Control the ball. Control that emotion, that, when it spills over, becomes a liability. And that's what Suh became on Thanksgiving: a liability.

In the past, most of us fans gave him a pass. "He just plays at 900 miles per hour all the time." "He's too strong for his own good sometimes." "C'mon, he's just playing hard."

No more passes, Ndomukong. This one we can't un-see.

To make matters worse, not only were we watching, everybody was watching. This wasn't your typical, regional audience. Not when you're a Detroit Lion on Thanksgiving. That's the big stage, buddy. Almost as many people watch that game as the Super Bowl.

It's not forgettable. Sure, we might forgive. He'll certainly forgive a chunk of his salary to the league office, and probably a game or two. But now, what we didn't want to believe- what other players have been saying- just might be true.

Suh is a dirty player.

There's no challenging it anymore. He's Albert Haynesworth. He's Bill Romanowski. He's Conrad Dobler.

Come to think of it, he's also pretty arrogant. Remember that fumble recovery he returned for a touchdown his rookie season? He started high-stepping and Santana Moss nearly pulled a Don Beebe. But, the ball didn't come loose and Suh turned around, running backwards, almost in disbelief.

"You can't do that to me. I'm Ndomukong Suh."

Does this look off balance?

What about the Colorado game when he picked off Cody Hawkins and took it in for the score? He spiked the ball into the end zone wall hard enough to cause permanent structural damage. Pretty damned arrogant if you ask me.

He was so cock-sure, so self-important that he thought we'd really believe he was losing his balance and that's why he needed to stamp his foot down like old Buick was underneath and needed crushing. He was confident that we'd believe he knew the cameras were on him and he'd never do anything to jeopardize himself or his team.

Unfortunately, I, for one, am not buying the "he's just misunderstood" argument anymore. I understand it perfectly. Ndomukong Suh really, really, really wants to hurt people. Not just in the run of play, but however and whenever he can. Rules, schmools.

Had he just owned it, I might not feel as strongly. He could have said any number of things. Instead, he tried to excuse it with a lie. And don't get it twisted, he lied through his teeth. That is not acceptable.  As a life-long Husker fan, I feel somehow betrayed.

In Nebraska, we call ourselves "The Greatest Fans In College Football." It's etched on Memorial Stadium. We sell out every home game, we give standing ovation to any team that can come in and win among the Sea of Red, and we treat opposing fans with respect. Well, most of us. And it's that quality of character that endears us to others when they visit Lincoln on a Saturday in the fall. To see one of our own commit such an egregious act is, to me, disheartening.

In this era of protecting quarterbacks more than the Crown Jewels, I might be called an enabler. "The game is too soft now," they say. It might well be. You'll get no argument from me on that point. But, never in the history of the game has stomping on another player been considered acceptable. It's ignorant, it's childish, and it's just plain intolerable.

To say I'm no longer a fan of Ndomukong Suh might be a stretch. It might also be accurate.

Right now, I'm hoping for a harsh punishment. Maybe it will teach him a lesson. Maybe he'll clean up his act. Maybe I'll write a column in a few years about how he's changed since this incident.

Here's hope for hoping.

High School Low: Nebraska's Lack of Football Talent

You may think the title is hostile. You may think I'm disparaging all those hardworking kids who sweat and bleed each Fall, most with the dream of playing on some nondescript Saturday in Lincoln in front of 85,000+ ravenous, Husker blue-bloods.

For many of them, playing at any university would be a dream come true.  Some of them will. Most will not. And for Husker fans, that's bad news.

Look, it's no secret that Nebraska doesn't produce near as many Division I football prospects as Texas, Florida, or California. Some of that can certainly be chalked up to population. The sheer numbers are not in favor of the Cornhusker State. According to the 2010 census data, California, Texas, and Florida are #1, #2, and #4 respectively. Nebraska is #38 (#39 if you're counting Puerto Rico).

Los Angeles has twice the population of Nebraska. Omaha is smaller than 6 cities in Texas (Houston has more people than the entire state of Nebraska). Florida has three urban areas of over 500,000.

So, sure. Population disparity plays a role. But I contend that it's not the only factor. Perhaps not even the biggest.

Texas is generally considered the benchmark for high school football. High school football in Texas is nearly religious. Away games are pilgrimages, losses are sins, and championships are heavenly.

To the population argument, I do submit. Nebraska's biggest school is Omaha Central (enrollment 2,557). It is smaller than 124 of 245 class 5A schools in Texas. But, again: size isn't everything.

One of those smaller schools is Southlake Carroll (enrollment 2,545). It isn't much smaller. It's strikingly comparable in size. Yet, even here in Nebraska, you've probably heard of Southlake Carroll High School. You may not know why you've heard of SCHS, but you have. Here's why:

• Kris Brown, former Nebraska Cornhusker and NFL kicker
• Scott Chandler, tight end for NFL's Buffalo Bills
• Adam Ulatoski, offensive lineman for the Houston Texans
• Garrett Hartley, former placekicker for the University of Oklahoma and currently plays for the New Orleans Saints
• Chase Daniel, former quarterback for the University of Missouri and currently quarterback and placeholder for the New Orleans Saints
• Greg McElroy, former quarterback for the University of Alabama and currently quarterback for the New York Jets

And that's the short list. As for Omaha Central:

• Ahman Green, former Nebraska Cornhusker and all-time Green Bay Packers rushing leader
• Calvin Jones, former Nebraska Cornhusker and Green Bay Packer

You can't sell me the population argument on this one. Even if you look at the players who were highly sought after out of high school, Southlake Carroll runs away from Central.

According to Rivals, here are the number of listed prospects from each school over the past 5 years.

	Southlake	Central
2012	4	1
2011	2	1
2010	10	3
2009	3	6
2008	9	4

Yes, Central had more listed prospects in 2009. The overall numbers don't lie: 28 for Southlake, 15 for Central. Digging just a bit below the surface shows just how great the disparity really is.

Of Southlake's 28 listed prospects, 20 signed with  Division I schools. For Central, just 3 of 15 have signed D-1.

So, why the disparity? The schools are roughly the same size and should, theoretically, have a similar talent pool from which to draw. I would go so far as to say that, yes, they do. Their talent pools should indeed be comparable. However, they are clearly not.

It hasn't got so much to do with talent, in my mind as it does football ability. The two are vastly different. Talent is raw, uncultivated, and uncoachable. Attributes such as speed, agility, arm strength, and general body size can be considered part of talent. Football ability is the sum of knowledge gained through practicum of football related activities. Stay with me here.

The title of this post may be a bit of a misnomer, but it got your attention. I don't believe there's a lack of talent among high school football players in Nebraska. Nay, I'd say just the opposite. There is, I believe, a wealth of talent hidden in The Plains. It is evident in the success of so many walk-on players at the University.

The problem? There isn't much football ability. And it's really not the fault of the athletes. The problem is more systemic.

You see, in Texas, they do football right. Coaches are coaches. They don't do anything else but coach. It's their job. Many places in Nebraska, coaching is a side job for a teacher. In Texas, the players learn how to play the game, not just how to play in the game. Off-season workouts, camps, and 7-on-7 are mandatory if you expect to see the field from anywhere except the bleachers. In Nebraska, from my own personal experience, an off-season workout is somewhere between optional and non-existent.

You can't say that Nebraskans don't care about football as much as Texans. Google search "ncaa consecutive sellout streak" and see what happens. The people here care.

Sure. Texas is much more heavily recruited than Nebraska. There are more players to choose from. But the players from Texas also play the game better. Largely because they've been taught better.

The talent is there. It often gets cultivated once the student somehow, be it walk-on or otherwise, lands on campus. But, for football in Nebraska to thrive, the steps to improve the quality of players must be taken earlier. Outside recruiting can only go so far.

It's no secret that I'm a fan of Nebraska. I grew up spending Spring itching for the thrill of hearing Kent Pavelka describe the scene at Memorial Stadium through the speakers of my AM/FM radio each Saturday in the Fall.

But today, all grown up and far removed from Husker glory days, I see a problem. The once mighty Cornhuskers are no longer the unique, Midwestern team that can draw in a certain type of player to fit the system.  Those players were often just quirky enough to work at Nebraska, whereas other teams didn't quite want them as much.

The players they need now are the same ones everyone else needs. And those guys, in general, just aren't coming to Lincoln. The solution, as always, will come from the ground floor. The seeds of a powerhouse program need to be planted in the back yard.

Dr. Certainly-Not-Love Or: How I Stopped Hating Tebow

Surely you'll forgive the title. Plays on words are my only vice.

That, of course, is a lie. My only other vice. Honest.

Speaking of vices, do you know that guy who doesn't have any? He's the guy who was praised for his volunteer work, morality, unwavering dedication, faith, and spirit. Remember him?

Was that Jesus or Tim Tebow? It was often hard to tell the two apart when he was a Gator. The media heralded Tebow like the Second Coming. His pedestal was so high, he may well have been seeing the world from Christ's perspective.

Hence, I hated him. Tebow, not Jesus.

You couldn't turn on any sports program without hearing something about his greatness. Each day brought some new way in which Almighty Tebow was terrific, magnificent, and tremendous.

For a fan of college football, it was like going to a restaurant, finding only one thing on the menu, and having it repeatedly shoved down your throat.

But, moreover, I hated him because he was just so damn good at playing football. And I didn't want him to be good. I wanted him to fail. I wanted Florida to lose. I was vengeful. I took major joy in the loss to Ole Miss in 2008. It's hard to be proud of feeling that way, but I did.

Call me a hater if you will.

Then, draft day 2010 came. The media's Tebow love fest suddenly turned into Tebow doubt. His throwing mechanics were scrutinized. His lack of experience in a pro-style offense was drilled. For the first time, it was obvious that Tebow wasn't #1. There was no way he would be drafted in the first round. Absolutely no chance.

There are far too many shirtless Tebow pictures. This isn't one.

No chance, right? Wrong. Josh McDaniels was a Tebow man all the way. He traded up to take Tebow with the 25th overall pick. I hated the pick. I hated McDaniels for ignoring the obvious, glaring deficiencies in his play. I hated that I had been wrong.

Fast forward to now.

Somehow, over the past year and a half, my pure, unadulterated hatred of Tim Tebow has faded. In fact, I don't hate him at all. It's something different. It's something even more gratifying than watching the failed 4th-and-1 against the Rebels.

I no longer care about Tim Tebow.

I have no reason to care. While the pundits continue to dissect and examine his every move, I feel nothing. He's irrelevant. He plays for an irrelevant team in a largely irrelevant division. No longer is Tebow the savior, he's just another below average NFL quarterback. As much as ESPN wants me to, I no longer have a need to see him succeed or fail.

Some will take the mere act of writing this article as proof of an opinion, but would be mistaken to do so. The point is, I've gone from watching because of hate, to not watching at all.


I used to pay attention so that I had ammunition. I needed something on which to form an argument. Now, I don't need an argument. I don't want to discuss whether or not he will be a success in the NFL. I don't want to have the debate about an Urban Meyer quarterback product in the NFL (see also Smith, Alex.). I used to want these discussions and debates all the time. I usually won. Currently: couldn't care less.

You may like him. You may hate him. For me, it's just not an issue anymore. Get back to me if he starts winning Super Bowls. I'm sure I'll have an opinion then.

The 22-team, BCS-busting Behemoth

Oh, conference realignment talk, we barely knew ye. And yet, you keep coming back, like a stray cat to the garbage bin.

In case you weren't paying attention, here's a summary(in no particular order) of what will/has already/might happen regarding the realignment of football conferences.

-Pittsburgh and Syracuse have jumped ship on the Big East and will now join the ACC, pending that sudden $10 million exit fee by the Big East.

-TCU planned to leave the Mountain West to join the Big East, but upon further consideration prompted by the exit of Pitt and Syracuse, they may be in the new Big XII.

-Missouri was in the Big XII, but now appears headed to the SEC, joining fellow former Longhorn Little Sister,  Texas A&M.

-Boise State left the WAC to join the Mountain West, where it would have at least one decent opponent in TCU. However, TCU's departure has the Broncos thinking Splittsville, population: them.

-The Big East, amid the loss of two schools (three if you count TCU) has decided to invite Boise State and Air Force (Mountain West), Central Florida, Houston, and SMU (Conference USA), and Navy (Independent) to bring their membership total to 12.

-Not to be outdone, the Mountain West, in light of much loss (BYU left to become independent) extended invitations to Fresno State, Nevada, and Hawaii. All three are expected to join in 2012.

-And of course,  the Children of the Corn fled for the Big 10, while Colorado joined their "far out" West Coast bretheren in the Pac-12. Utah did something too, but nobody really cared much about that.

Got that? Good.

But the real story here, in a strange twist that even M. Knight Shyamalan couldn't write, the Mountain West and Conference USA may be holding the keys to Conference Apocalypse.

That's right. The least likely culprits. And you thought it would be the dissolution of the Texas Longhorn Conference that would bring about NCAA Armageddon.

Shows how much you know.

Can you imagine it? A 22-team football conference? The schedule matrix will be harder to navigate than calculus on an abacus.

Just for familiarity's sake, here are the teams of Conference USA:
       East Carolina, Houston, Marshall, Memphis, Rice, Southern Methodist(SMU), Southern Mississippi, Tulane, Tulsa, Alabama-Birmingham (UAB), Texas-El Paso(UTEP), Central Florida.

And the Mountain West:
      Air Force, Boise State, Colorado State, New Mexico, San Diego State, Texas Christian(TCU), Nevada-Las Vegas(UNLV), and Wyoming.

Those are, of course, the current members. It's sort of like trying to tell some one the exact time. By the time it's written, it's wrong.

But, let's give it a try, shall we? You remember math right?

(Conference USA-(UCF + Houston + SMU)) + (Mountain West-(TCU + Air Force + Boise State)) + Hawaii + Nevada + Fresno State= Brain Aneurysm.

Here's who's left:  ECU, Marshall, Memphis, Rice, Southern Mississippi, Tulane, Tulsa, UAB, UTEP,  Colorado State, New Mexico, San Diego State, UNLV, Hawaii, Nevada, Fresno State, and Wyoming.

But, wait. That's only 17 teams. Well, it plays out like this. Mountain Conference West USA officials expect that this football mind-meld will be enough to convince the likes of UCF, Houston, SMU, Air Force, and Boise State to stick around.

If we're calling a 16-team conference a "super conference," what is a 22-team league? I'd call it unmanageable. Unless...

Two divisions, East and West, each with two subdivisions. Then, instead of a single conference championship game, you get a 4-team playoff.

Playoffs? Holy.....

That's right, sports fans. This is how the BCS can get busted. No, you're right. This isn't necessarily a who's who of college football. In fact, only one of the schools in Pangaea Conference(that gets my vote for the name) has even been to a BCS bowl. Many of them are lucky to make any bowl.  But, for this dirty little job, we don't need Alabama, Michigan, Penn State, or Oklahoma.

To eventually get to a playoff system, which is essentially what most fans want, we need a desperate band of outcasts who are willing to do something so stupid, something so crazy that it just might work.

The BCS painted itself into this corner by being so exclusive. It's like the nightclub that doesn't allow jeans. Eventually, the jeans wearers band together and storm the club and turn it into a jeans-only establishment. Ok, probably not. But you get the picture.

Can't you see it? Mega-conferences with  four-team playoffs to determine the champion. Each champion represents a conference in a 4-team, 6-team, or even 8-team National Championship tournament. Nobody gets left out. Nobody is a "non-automatic qualifier." Everyone is filled with joy.

Pause the celebration. The truth is Boise State, UCF, SMU, Houston, and Air Force probably won't stay in Pangaea Conference. They won't because the BCS still exists and joining the Big East makes them "automatic qualifiers" right now. They don't have to wait for everyone else to form their own mega-conferences. They don't have to wait for the BCS to dissolve. They get the goods today instead of tomorrow.

So, Pangaea Conference is really left with 17 teams that nobody really cares about. The four subdivisions idea sounds like a lot less fun when there are only four teams in each. Yes, I realize one division would have five.

What we're left with is the same old system. We'll keep watching it because we love football and the power mongers will keep telling us we watch because of the way it's set up.

At least you tried, Pangaea Conference. At least you tried.

Baseball Needs More Nyjer Morgan

Nyjer Morgan. You may also know him as Tony Plush. Or maybe he's Tony Gumbo. T-Plush perhaps? If you're a stuffy old baseball codger, you probably know him as "everything that's wrong with the game."

Maybe that's why I like him so much.

He gets into fights. The announcers hate him. He does strange things during post-game interviews. Make sure you're all caught up on your Plushdamentals. And even stranger things yet. Is he crazy? Probably.  But, you know, baseball really needs that kind of crazy.

He's been around the league. Clubs usually get tired of his antics. For you stuffy, old baseball codgers, that's "what's wrong with the game." Baseball has no tolerance for personality. Everyone is supposed to show up, spout the same lines (one game at a time, long season, it's a team effort, etc.), and act like they're as thrilled to be a Major Leaguer as they would be to visit the dentist.

Nyjer Morgan is among the MLB leaders in tobacco consumption.

I'm supposed to watch a 162 games at 4 hours each and just simply be entertained? Maybe for some, that works. For me, it has to actually be entertaining. Nyjer Morgan is just that. He's the bowl of spiked punch in a warehouse of un-labeled, bottled water.

For the record, I like Giants closer Brian Wilson for exactly the same reason.

He's also a remarkably clutch hitter. You'll notice in the second video, the interviewer mentions how he always comes up in the big moment. He just did it again, sending the Brewers to the NLCS with his 10th-inning single that beat the Arizona Diamondbacks.

Hate all you want, baseball. The guy can play. In traditional Nyjer fashion, he promptly dropped two big F's in the post-game interview on TBS.

No, he's not a perennial All-Star. He won't ever hit 30 homers or 120 RBI. What he does is chew massive wads of tobacco, show up in the clutch, win the game, and knock the post-game interview out of the park.

His act may not always be productive, but it's always good for a laugh. Laughs are something baseball could certainly use more of. I sincerely hope Tony Gumbo aka Tony Plush aka T-Plush aka Tony Clutch sticks around for awhile. He gives me something to do in the summer.

By the way. Did you know he also played hockey? Guess that explains the fighting...

Stop Criticizing Martinez? That's Not How This Works...

I've heard from some Husker fans that we need to "get off Taylor Martinez's back."

What? Are you serious?

He's the starting quarterback for the University of Nebraska's football team who, by the way, just got embarrassed in Madison, WI. He was a large part of the embarrassment, throwing three costly interceptions and a number of other bad passes. Those are the facts.

Now, I'm not supposed to criticize him for his poor performance? I don't think that's how it works.

If an Assistant Manager at Company X makes three (or more) mistakes that significantly contribute to a loss of productivity and money at Company X, while drastically lowering the public perception of Company X, that employee would be heavily criticized, if not terminated or demoted. This is not up for debate. It's true.

Martinez has completed just 50.5% of passes this season

Replace "Assistant Manager" with "Taylor Martinez" and "Company X" with "the Nebraska Cornhuskers," and suddenly the story changes. The employee, somehow, is above reproach.

The logic doesn't follow. If you screw up, expect criticism. That's just life. If you can't deal with it, do something else that lowers your risk of failure.

Fans should not stop criticizing Martinez. The old excuses will remain invalid as ever. "He's just a kid." "We forget that he's only a Sophomore." "Leave him alone and let him grow."

He's not a kid. Sophomores have won three of the last four Heisman trophies. Leaving him alone will not allow him to grow.

I beg you this, Husker fans. Praise Martinez when he does well. Give him his due. But, do not listen to those calls to let miserable performances go without scrutiny. As we fans must take the good with the bad when it comes to Martinez, so must he from us.

A Look at Boston's Miraculous Failure

A lot of analysts are eating crow this morning. 42 of the 45 baseball experts at ESPN predicted the Red Sox to at least reach the World Series. All 45 had Beantown winning the East. Every single one.

My question: Whose collapse was more disturbing?

You couldn't have predicted all the injuries for Boston. You couldn't have predicted that Jonathan Papelbon, who converted 31 of 33 save opportunities, would blow #34. You wouldn't have predicted that it would be a loss to Orioles keeping the Red Sox out of the playoffs.

But, that loss to the Orioles is just a microcosm of the last month for Boston.

 September 5th. It was a Monday in Toronto. Blue Jays rookie Brett Lawrie hit an 11th-inning, walk-off home run to beat Boston 1-0.  Two days later, leading 8-6, Boston gave up 5 runs in the bottom of the 8th. They managed 2 in the 9th, but ultimately fell to Toronto 11-10. Win those two games and you're in.

September 10th. Red Sox vs. Rays. Evan Longoria, last night's hero, knocked an RBI single in the 11th to beat Boston 6-5. Win that game and the Rays are home for Halloween.

And there are more. A 5-4 loss to Toronto, 4-3 loss to Tampa Bay, and a 6-5 loss to Baltimore. All of these crucial September games were winnable, just as game #162 was winnable. But in each one, like last night they came up one run short. The season came down to one run.

Ahh, but lest we forget. The Red Sox also began the season with six consecutive losses. Win any two of those games and it's a story of how Boston almost collapsed.

People like to say that the regular season in baseball doesn't matter. The Red Sox beg to differ. They lost 72 games this season. If they'd only lost 70, we wouldn't be having this discussion.

What makes the collapse so much crazier is looking at Boston's team statistics. The Red Sox led the majors in  runs scored (875), on-base percentage (.349), and slugging percentage (.461). Their team batting average of .280 was second only to Texas.

Boston's team ERA in September was 7.08

How could a team with so much offensive firepower fail so hard down the stretch? Again, we only need look at the last inning of the final game against the Orioles. Pitching.

The Red Sox finished 22nd in team ERA(4.20). Playoff teams do not pitch that poorly. Of the eight playoff teams, only one is ranked lower than 13th in team ERA, the Detroit Tigers. The difference there is Justin Verlander, who is easily the best pitcher in the American League this season. The Tigers may be 18th in team ERA, but they threw Verlander every fifth day and got eight innings and win. Boston didn't have anyone like that down the stretch. Boston didn't have anyone like that at all.

Boston was 28th in quality starts(starting pitcher goes at least 6 innings, allowing three or less earned runs). Only 71 times in 162 games did a Boston pitcher get a quality start. The Phillies had 108. Houston, which finished with the worst record in baseball, had 80 quality starts.

Pitching is what let Boston down all season, and it's what let them down in the end.

 Maybe the curse wasn't lifted. Maybe it was just under rain delay.