So, I've decided to change up the format of The Failed Athlete. I've been away from the blog for a while, and I think a change will be good. So, now coming to you (hopefully) five days a week-- The Failed Athlete podcast. Here's episode 1: Why do you hate soccer?
A collection of sports musings from a former semi-varsity athlete.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
New Football Year's Resolutions
So...football season is nearly over, huh? My, my...where has the time gone? Seems like only 6 months or so ago that his whole thing started. I guess it's time to start preparing my list of things to do now that football is going away.
1. Get un-fat.
1. Get un-fat.
I'm already working on it, but seriously. When did I get so tubby? It sort of looks like I swallowed an inner tube filled with gravy. Ugh.
2. Become a sudoku master.
I don't really have anything else to do. Putting those little numbers in their rightful homes gives a man the feeling of achievement. Like building a gazebo.
3. Build a gazebo.
It's dude stuff. Hammer, nails, shingles...that sort of thing. Might score some points with the ladyfriend while I'm at it.
4. Start watching college basketball.
Look, football...it ain't. However, if I want to make a good showing in the NCAA Tournament pools, I need to have a solid knowledge base. I can't consume CBB with the same veracity that I do CFB, but one game a week shouldn't be too much to ask.
5. Aimlessly flip channels when college basketball gets boring.
Because, come on. Regular season college basketball?
6. Finish a book
Admittedly, it's been a while since I finished one. With football gone, I think I can achieve that.
7. Star Wars Marathon (no Jar-Jar).
I haven't seen the original 3 in about a decade now. It's time.
8. Pick up that guitar
I've had the damned thing for something like, 12 years, and I still cant play it. I guess now is as good a time as any. You're never too old to learn something new, right?
9. Repair rage-broken guitar.
I will, inevitably, remember why I haven't learned to play it. Musical talent somewhere around a 2/10, fingers incredibly short, hands hobbit-small.
10. Give in and watch old football games
Yes, I know how it ends. No, that doesn't bother me. Not when it's June and I haven't had a hit since February.
11. Probably get fat again.
Let's face it. I get lazy and then football season starts and there's no TIME for working out then.
12. Weep openly.
This will probably happen sooner than later. I just miss football so damn much....*sniffle*
13. Get a real job.
This whole full-time student thing has been great, but the government will be ceasing my GI Bill real soon. Really, I just need to make enough money to afford cable so that I don't miss any football games.
14. Visit a foreign country.
This one is a cop-out. The trip is already planned. I just needed something to cross off.
15. Go fishing.
I didn't go even once last off-season. This year will be different.
11. Probably get fat again.
Let's face it. I get lazy and then football season starts and there's no TIME for working out then.
This will probably happen sooner than later. I just miss football so damn much....*sniffle*
13. Get a real job.
This whole full-time student thing has been great, but the government will be ceasing my GI Bill real soon. Really, I just need to make enough money to afford cable so that I don't miss any football games.
14. Visit a foreign country.
This one is a cop-out. The trip is already planned. I just needed something to cross off.
15. Go fishing.
I didn't go even once last off-season. This year will be different.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Four Words On Nebraska's 2011 Season
It's taken some time to work up the interest to write this. I could really just stop there. It wasn't only the bowl game that did it. My interest in this season waned as it wore on. I think that says a lot.
The losses were heart breaking. But each for a different reason.
Anyway, it's all over now. Let the reflection period begin. Nebraska won't play another meaningful football game for about 8 months.
Was that the Capital One Bowl or the entire season? In a way, it was both. It was a stripped-down version of what we saw from the Huskers in 2011. A microcosm, if you will.
In a nutshell, it was flashes of brilliance marred by moments of complete ineptitude. It was frustrating, inexplicable, infuriating, and ultimately troubling.
Frustration
Nebraska began the Big 10 season in Madison, WI. A huge atmosphere and an equally huge task. The highly-touted Badgers were unveiling quarterback transfer Russell Wilson, an intriguing addition to a team which played in the Rose Bowl in January.
The task, and the atmosphere, proved too big for the young Huskers. A loss was expected by most, but not in the way that it happened.
It wasn't Taylor Martinez's night. Plain and simple. He didn't have it. Yet, the coaching staff kept trying to force him into making plays. If you know don't know anything about Martinez, know this: he isn't that guy. Some quarterback can, almost magically, be the square peg in a round hole. Martinez can't pull that off. He certainly didn't that night in Wisconsin, and probably won't ever be able.
But, for some unknown reason, the offensive staff, led by Tim Beck, thought he could. Even a casual fan could see that it wasn't the night. The wall was too thick and beating the collective Husker head against it wouldn't knock it down.
That sort of pig-headed attitude led Nebraska to multiple turnovers and a miserable showing. Frustration was the word of the night.
Wisconsin 48, Nebraska 17
Inexplicable
Following three solid performances, including a huge comeback against Ohio State and a nice win over a good Michigan State team, the Cornhuskers welcomed Northwestern to Memorial Stadium.
It wasn't even supposed to be a contest. Northwestern entered at 3-5, having even dropped a game to lowly Army. But, on this day, Nebraska would have no answer for Kain Colter.
It was almost unbelievable. The crowd of more than 85,000 shared the same expression. All knew they had seen exactly what happened, but couldn't quite grasp the reality.
There was no reason to lose, right? Northwestern didn't just win in Lincoln, did they?
Wrong. Yes, they did.
The offensive ineptitude was astonishing. Northwestern came in allowing an average of 31.5 points per game. Outside of a garbage touchdown with virtually no time remaining, the Huskers managed just 18 points.
Unlike the Wisconsin game, this wasn't Martinez's fault. He played well enough. The rest of the team folded around him.
But why?
Some called it a lack of leadership. Some called it the team's inability to adequately deal with success. Many reasons were given, but nothing could completely answer the question. It was wholly inexplicable.
Northwestern 28, Nebraska 25.
Infuriating
Nebraska bounced back following the Northwestern loss, beating a Penn State team slogging through what is the worst scandal in college football history.
They were alive. The Legends Division crown could still sit atop Herbie Husker's cowboy hat. Michigan was up next in a must-win game at The Big House.
However, Nebraska never answered the bell in the second half. They trailed just 17-10 to start the 3rd, but wound up on the end of another vicious beatdown.
Apparently, Cornhuskers don't do well against feisty rodents (see: wolverine, badger).
This one was more than frustrating, it was a breeding pool for red-hot, seething anger. Martinez was terrible, completing just 9 of 23 passes. Rex Burkhead gained 36 yards, his lowest total all season. All this plus two second half turnovers ultimately buried the Huskers.
They couldn't afford to lose, so instead they got blown out. They couldn't afford to let Michigan get too far ahead, but they turned it over. They needed to be effective in the run game and keep the ball away from Michigan's potent offense, but managed just 138 yards on the ground and allowed the Wolverines more than 41 minutes of possession.
It was a game that might make the Pope drop a few F-bombs.
Michigan 45, Nebraska 17
Troubling
The win over Iowa gave Nebraska a trip to the best bowl it has seen in some years. Perhaps the best in a decade.
South Carolina and the Capital One Bowl presented a great opportunity. It would be a nice cap on the season to beat an SEC team with a solid defense.
But, this game would play like a lowlight reel from the 2011 season.
It had a flash of offensive brilliance, followed by misery-inducing turnovers. It showcased the critical vulnerability of the NU defense: a fleet-footed quarterback. It had untimely breakdowns in secondary play and offensive discipline. When the Huskers desperately needed to score, they fell flat on their faces.
To see all these things in one game was troubling. In 60 minutes, it told just about everything you need to know about Nebraska.
Learning those things has to be unsettling to Husker faithful.
South Carolina 30, Nebraska 17.
Questions
The season has raised some questions that need answers, and soon.
Is Taylor Martinez good enough to lead this team to championship-level play?
I don't think so. I answer this question with another: What is it that he does well? Sure, he's really fast. But, his field vision is almost non-existent. I often say, he's the best runner in the country when nobody is in front of him. He doesn't seem to know what to do when faced with a defender. He becomes hesitant and often takes big shots. He doesn't seem to have the lateral agility to make tacklers miss or the ability to read blocks well enough to find seams.
While he has improved as a passer, less than 50% completions is not good enough. He is, at times, the victim of dropped passes, which leads to the next question.
Can Nebraska get the athletes needed to compete at the highest level?
I think they can. But, it has to be a focused effort, namely at wide receiver. Why does it seem that every other team in the country has at least one guy who makes the key catch every time? Many of those teams don't have near the profile that Nebraska does. There has to be somebody out there with great hands that wants to play for NU. Has to be.
Other than that, I think the staff has done a decent job in recruiting. This isn't ever going to be LSU, Alabama, USC, or Ohio State. It just won't. But, if Stanford, Oregon, and West Virginia can get top-level guys, there's no reason Nebraska can't.
The final question is difficult.
Is Bo Pelini the guy?
This is tough. I don't know that I have an answer. At times, it seems he is just what Dr. Tom ordered. Fiery, intense, and defensive-minded.
Other times, those same qualities seem detrimental. Too fiery. Too intense. Too defensive-minded. Unless he can manage those traits, I can't see a Pelini-led team taking the next step.
He has to learn to be a complete coach. If he can't, I'll be writing this same post for as long as he's at the helm.
The losses were heart breaking. But each for a different reason.
Anyway, it's all over now. Let the reflection period begin. Nebraska won't play another meaningful football game for about 8 months.
Was that the Capital One Bowl or the entire season? In a way, it was both. It was a stripped-down version of what we saw from the Huskers in 2011. A microcosm, if you will.
In a nutshell, it was flashes of brilliance marred by moments of complete ineptitude. It was frustrating, inexplicable, infuriating, and ultimately troubling.
Frustration
Nebraska began the Big 10 season in Madison, WI. A huge atmosphere and an equally huge task. The highly-touted Badgers were unveiling quarterback transfer Russell Wilson, an intriguing addition to a team which played in the Rose Bowl in January.
The task, and the atmosphere, proved too big for the young Huskers. A loss was expected by most, but not in the way that it happened.
It wasn't Taylor Martinez's night. Plain and simple. He didn't have it. Yet, the coaching staff kept trying to force him into making plays. If you know don't know anything about Martinez, know this: he isn't that guy. Some quarterback can, almost magically, be the square peg in a round hole. Martinez can't pull that off. He certainly didn't that night in Wisconsin, and probably won't ever be able.
But, for some unknown reason, the offensive staff, led by Tim Beck, thought he could. Even a casual fan could see that it wasn't the night. The wall was too thick and beating the collective Husker head against it wouldn't knock it down.
That sort of pig-headed attitude led Nebraska to multiple turnovers and a miserable showing. Frustration was the word of the night.
Wisconsin 48, Nebraska 17
Inexplicable
Following three solid performances, including a huge comeback against Ohio State and a nice win over a good Michigan State team, the Cornhuskers welcomed Northwestern to Memorial Stadium.
It wasn't even supposed to be a contest. Northwestern entered at 3-5, having even dropped a game to lowly Army. But, on this day, Nebraska would have no answer for Kain Colter.
It was almost unbelievable. The crowd of more than 85,000 shared the same expression. All knew they had seen exactly what happened, but couldn't quite grasp the reality.
There was no reason to lose, right? Northwestern didn't just win in Lincoln, did they?
Wrong. Yes, they did.
The offensive ineptitude was astonishing. Northwestern came in allowing an average of 31.5 points per game. Outside of a garbage touchdown with virtually no time remaining, the Huskers managed just 18 points.
Unlike the Wisconsin game, this wasn't Martinez's fault. He played well enough. The rest of the team folded around him.
But why?
Some called it a lack of leadership. Some called it the team's inability to adequately deal with success. Many reasons were given, but nothing could completely answer the question. It was wholly inexplicable.
Northwestern 28, Nebraska 25.
Infuriating
Nebraska bounced back following the Northwestern loss, beating a Penn State team slogging through what is the worst scandal in college football history.
They were alive. The Legends Division crown could still sit atop Herbie Husker's cowboy hat. Michigan was up next in a must-win game at The Big House.
However, Nebraska never answered the bell in the second half. They trailed just 17-10 to start the 3rd, but wound up on the end of another vicious beatdown.
Apparently, Cornhuskers don't do well against feisty rodents (see: wolverine, badger).
This one was more than frustrating, it was a breeding pool for red-hot, seething anger. Martinez was terrible, completing just 9 of 23 passes. Rex Burkhead gained 36 yards, his lowest total all season. All this plus two second half turnovers ultimately buried the Huskers.
They couldn't afford to lose, so instead they got blown out. They couldn't afford to let Michigan get too far ahead, but they turned it over. They needed to be effective in the run game and keep the ball away from Michigan's potent offense, but managed just 138 yards on the ground and allowed the Wolverines more than 41 minutes of possession.
It was a game that might make the Pope drop a few F-bombs.
Michigan 45, Nebraska 17
Troubling
The win over Iowa gave Nebraska a trip to the best bowl it has seen in some years. Perhaps the best in a decade.
South Carolina and the Capital One Bowl presented a great opportunity. It would be a nice cap on the season to beat an SEC team with a solid defense.
But, this game would play like a lowlight reel from the 2011 season.
It had a flash of offensive brilliance, followed by misery-inducing turnovers. It showcased the critical vulnerability of the NU defense: a fleet-footed quarterback. It had untimely breakdowns in secondary play and offensive discipline. When the Huskers desperately needed to score, they fell flat on their faces.
To see all these things in one game was troubling. In 60 minutes, it told just about everything you need to know about Nebraska.
Learning those things has to be unsettling to Husker faithful.
South Carolina 30, Nebraska 17.
Questions
The season has raised some questions that need answers, and soon.
Is Taylor Martinez good enough to lead this team to championship-level play?
I don't think so. I answer this question with another: What is it that he does well? Sure, he's really fast. But, his field vision is almost non-existent. I often say, he's the best runner in the country when nobody is in front of him. He doesn't seem to know what to do when faced with a defender. He becomes hesitant and often takes big shots. He doesn't seem to have the lateral agility to make tacklers miss or the ability to read blocks well enough to find seams.
While he has improved as a passer, less than 50% completions is not good enough. He is, at times, the victim of dropped passes, which leads to the next question.
Can Nebraska get the athletes needed to compete at the highest level?
I think they can. But, it has to be a focused effort, namely at wide receiver. Why does it seem that every other team in the country has at least one guy who makes the key catch every time? Many of those teams don't have near the profile that Nebraska does. There has to be somebody out there with great hands that wants to play for NU. Has to be.
Other than that, I think the staff has done a decent job in recruiting. This isn't ever going to be LSU, Alabama, USC, or Ohio State. It just won't. But, if Stanford, Oregon, and West Virginia can get top-level guys, there's no reason Nebraska can't.
The final question is difficult.
Is Bo Pelini the guy?
This is tough. I don't know that I have an answer. At times, it seems he is just what Dr. Tom ordered. Fiery, intense, and defensive-minded.
Other times, those same qualities seem detrimental. Too fiery. Too intense. Too defensive-minded. Unless he can manage those traits, I can't see a Pelini-led team taking the next step.
He has to learn to be a complete coach. If he can't, I'll be writing this same post for as long as he's at the helm.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Bowls? We've Got A Few In The Cupboard...
Bowl season is in full swing.
Excuse my vomit.
There's no reason to continue with this broken system. It just can't be intelligently defended anymore.
I can't come up with another sport that legitimately doesn't settle it with a playoff. Maybe soccer. The MLS has a playoff, but they don't really operate like the rest of the soccer world. In England, for instance, teams get points for wins and draws and blah blah blah. Don't get me wrong, I love soccer, but they have a system that works for them. It's not a system that would work for football, because the season is considerably shorter.
College football is really alone in this brand of blatant stupidity. Actually, that's unfair. Division I college football. All the other divisions do it properly and crown a champion on the field of play.
These bowls are pointless and they have ridiculous names. Kraft Fight Hunger Bowl. Beef 'O' Brady's Bowl. Bell Helicopter Armed Forces Bowl. Famous Idaho Potato Bowl. Taxslayer.com Bowl.
Next year? Texts From Bennett Bowl. Absurd.
Maybe at halftime they'll announce that the whole thing was a sham, perpetrated to fleece the people out of their money. The website, not the BCS. I understand your confusion.
Ok. I made that last one up. And why the hell are there two apostrophes around the O in Beef 'O' Brady's? My last bit of patience is used up by those purposeless, floating, arrogant marks.
And now that I mention it, those two apostrophes have a lot in common with the BCS.
The rematch of LSU and Alabama for the National Championship is a travesty. It is a slap in the face to everything that is right and just.
This game has already been played. LSU was the winner. It isn't necessary to play it again. The sad thing is, all these things are true, only because the circumstance exists within the current system.
Had this situation been reached at the end of a playoff, it would be undeniable. There would be no need to defend it.
Facts, not votes.
The truth is, in some proposed playoff systems, the two would have met before the championship game. Alabama would have been a "wild card" team, LSU the top seed.
And then, whoever won the first time would be a non-factor. Playoffs, baby. That's when it counts.
Stop telling us that the regular season "is the playoffs." It isn't. If it is, where's the bracket?
Playoffs do everything the current system can't. Regular season games become even more relevant. There are more postseason games that have meaning. A conference championship might actually mean something more than the nebulous, "we were the best of these 12 or so teams, arranged by region."
And keep all your pointless bowls if you want. Who cares? Let every team who doesn't make the playoff go to the ridiculous Five Hour Energy Bowls and the Heinz Tomato Ketchup Bowls and the Way Too Long To Be A Bowl Game Name Bowls. Nobody really pays attention to the damned things anyway. It's just another excuse to have your buddies over and get annihilated on cheese dip and potato skins.
Playoffs make sense.
And the NCAA chimes in, a la Jim Mora.
"Playoffs? Don't talk about...Playoffs? Are you kiddin' me? Playoffs? I just hope we can add a bowl. Another Bowl."
Touche, NCAA. Touche. But, if I may, I would also like to revise a quote from that same rant.
"That is a disgraceful system. In my opinion, it sucks."
Excuse my vomit.
It's really, really hard to care. That's saying a lot, considering I'm the guy who watches Sun Belt games on Tuesday nights during the regular season.
Are there too many bowls? Sure, but that's not the reason.
Is it because teams that are 6-7 get to go? Not really.
Here's the problem: only two of them matter to me. Those being, the one Nebraska is playing in and the National Championship. And I'm not really excited about either of those.
It's too easy, I know. Right now you're saying, "Not another College Football Playoff article."
But, yes. That's what this is. I guess it's my turn to excuse your vomit.
There's no reason to continue with this broken system. It just can't be intelligently defended anymore.
Here's your challenge: name another sport, collegiate or otherwise, that doesn't settle the championship with a playoff.
Track and field? Ok. Maybe, on a technicality. But they do have a tournament of sorts, in which each qualified member competes to determine a champion in each event.
 |
| No playoffs for you |
The cream rises to the top over the span of a long, long season. UEFA has a club cup that does settle things with a playoff. It works. The World Cup? Massive playoff system.
College football is really alone in this brand of blatant stupidity. Actually, that's unfair. Division I college football. All the other divisions do it properly and crown a champion on the field of play.
These bowls are pointless and they have ridiculous names. Kraft Fight Hunger Bowl. Beef 'O' Brady's Bowl. Bell Helicopter Armed Forces Bowl. Famous Idaho Potato Bowl. Taxslayer.com Bowl.
Next year? Texts From Bennett Bowl. Absurd.
Maybe at halftime they'll announce that the whole thing was a sham, perpetrated to fleece the people out of their money. The website, not the BCS. I understand your confusion.
Ok. I made that last one up. And why the hell are there two apostrophes around the O in Beef 'O' Brady's? My last bit of patience is used up by those purposeless, floating, arrogant marks.
And now that I mention it, those two apostrophes have a lot in common with the BCS.
The rematch of LSU and Alabama for the National Championship is a travesty. It is a slap in the face to everything that is right and just.
This game has already been played. LSU was the winner. It isn't necessary to play it again. The sad thing is, all these things are true, only because the circumstance exists within the current system.
Had this situation been reached at the end of a playoff, it would be undeniable. There would be no need to defend it.
Facts, not votes.
The truth is, in some proposed playoff systems, the two would have met before the championship game. Alabama would have been a "wild card" team, LSU the top seed.
And then, whoever won the first time would be a non-factor. Playoffs, baby. That's when it counts.
Stop telling us that the regular season "is the playoffs." It isn't. If it is, where's the bracket?
Playoffs do everything the current system can't. Regular season games become even more relevant. There are more postseason games that have meaning. A conference championship might actually mean something more than the nebulous, "we were the best of these 12 or so teams, arranged by region."
And keep all your pointless bowls if you want. Who cares? Let every team who doesn't make the playoff go to the ridiculous Five Hour Energy Bowls and the Heinz Tomato Ketchup Bowls and the Way Too Long To Be A Bowl Game Name Bowls. Nobody really pays attention to the damned things anyway. It's just another excuse to have your buddies over and get annihilated on cheese dip and potato skins.
Playoffs make sense.
And the NCAA chimes in, a la Jim Mora.
"Playoffs? Don't talk about...Playoffs? Are you kiddin' me? Playoffs? I just hope we can add a bowl. Another Bowl."
Touche, NCAA. Touche. But, if I may, I would also like to revise a quote from that same rant.
"That is a disgraceful system. In my opinion, it sucks."
Friday, November 25, 2011
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."
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.
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? |
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.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
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:
According to Rivals, here are the number of listed prospects from each school over the past 5 years.
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
- Ahman Green, former Nebraska Cornhusker and all-time Green Bay Packers rushing leader
- Calvin Jones, former Nebraska Cornhusker and Green Bay Packer
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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