By Bob Markus
Where is Bing Crosby now that we need him? Nobody could play a priest like Der Bingle. Well, maybe Pat O'Brien could. But what we're looking for here is a young priest and Crosby defined that role. Going My Way, anybody? Besides, we might need a singing priest here. We could be looking at a musical somewhere down the road. We already have the story. Now we need somebody to write the book and another somebody to produce the movie and a third somebody to adapt the movie into a musical unless Mel Brooks decides to do both. In case you missed it, and I almost did considering that my local paper gave it only two sentences in the daily briefing column, a top minor league prospect in the Oakland A's organization is quitting baseball to become a Roman Catholic priest. Now, it's possible that outfielder Grant Desme was never destined to be a major leaguer. He's 23 years old and played last season in A ball. But he was the only player in the minor leagues to produce a 30-30 season--30 homers and 30 steals--and he finished the year by being named Most Valuable Player in the Arizona Fall League. A second round draft pick in 2007, Desme was ranked as Oakland's 8th best prospect by Baseball America.
Desme is giving up a life that for many young men represents the American dream. If he reached the major leagues and played even for a few years he would be earning a million dollars a year or more in this era of inflated salaries. But he has already informed A's General Manager Billy Beane that he intends to enter a seminary this August and, ultimately, enter the priesthood. Desme said that Beane was "understanding and supportive, but it sort of knocked him off his horse." If so, Beane quickly remounted and issued a statement that must have taken at least 30 seconds to compose: "We respect Grant's decision and wish him nothing but the best in his future endeavors." One reason Desme advanced no higher than A ball in his three years as a pro was that injuries robbed him of a large part of his first two years. He says he spent a lot of time thinking during that period and "those injuries were the biggest blessings God ever gave me." He seemed to be fulfilling his promise as a baseball player last season when, finally healthy, he hit .288 with a combined 89 rbis and 31 homers at Kane County (Il.) and Stockton (Cal.) He hit another 11 homers and knocked in 27 runs in 27 games in the Arizona league. In his final game he struck out twice and hit a home run, "which defines my career a little bit. I was doing well, but I wasn't at peace with where I was at."
Baseball has had its Preacher Roe and Johnny Priest but not since the days of Billy Sunday has it had, to my knowledge, an active player morph into a man of God. And any resemblance between Desme and Billy Sunday is purely coincidental. Sunday was a real life Elmer Gantry and might even have been the inspiration for Sinclair Lewis's novel. An old-time Bible thumper, Sunday made more money as a fire and brimstone evangelist than he ever did in his eight seasons as a major league ball player. A lifetime .248 hitter, Sunday was noted for his speed on the basepaths and in his final year swiped 86 bases in a season split between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. Sunday had been discovered by Cap Anson, the legendary Chicago Cubs manager and first baseman (they were called the White Stockings at the time), while playing town ball in Marshalltown, Iowa, Anson's home town. He played most of his career with the Chicago team and it was in Chicago that he accepted a job at the YMCA for $83 a month, turning down the Phillies' offer of $3,000 for the 1891 season. He eventually would make a more than comfortable living as the Billy Graham of his day, but that was several years down the road.
The life that Grant Desme has chosen for himself is far different than the one that Billy Sunday lived, but he could become almost as celebrated. All it will take is someone to write the book and then, the movie, and, let's see, would Johnny Depp or Robert Downey Jr. be the best choice for the title role?
-0-
There was a time when I was pretty good at picking the Super bowl winner and the final score. In fact, as far as I know, I'm the only writer to win the Super bowl pool two years in a row (Games VI and VII). Noted Cincinnati writer Tom Callahan even wrote a column about me before Super Bowl VIII. I'd usually pick the AFC champion to win the game. While most major newspapers, including my own Chicago Tribune, all but ignored the upstart AFL, I had covered the last pre-Super Bowl AFL championship game, in which the Buffalo Bills beat the Chargers in a yawner in San Diego. I also covered the Oakland Raiders' victory over the Houston Oilers before Super Bowl II and the Jets' win over the Raiders the next year in wind blown Shea Stadium. I knew the AFC was getting stronger and was one of the few who did not predict a Colts' blowout of the Jets before Super Bowl III. I didn't go so far as to pick the Jets, but I did refute the prevailing notion that the Jets had no chance. One Chicago writer even called it 73-0, which, of course, was the score of the Bears' 1940 NFL championship game win over the Washington Redskins. It's been a long time since I've made a public selection for a Super Bowl and I'm pretty out of touch. I'm probably going to root for the Saints. I can remember covering a game in New Orleans when Hank Stram was coaching and, noting that the King Tut exhibit was in town, I wrote that Saints fans didn't need King Tut because they already had King Strut. This incensed many Saints fans, who didn't know that Hank and I were good friends and in fact I had dinner with the Strams after the game. But, sentiment aside, I'm going with my old tried-and-true method and picking the AFC team. Colts, 31; Saints, 20. No blog next week. See you in two weeks and we'll see if I still have the touch.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
By Bob Markus
The time is long past when a man's word was his bond and his handshake his troth. We are now living in an age when even a signed contract, as I once was told by my boss at the Chicago Tribune, "isn't worth the paper it's printed on." Nowhere is this more evident than in college sports, where football and basketball coaches have been known to jump ship more readily than a Shanghaied sailor. There is more loyalty in a street gang than in the play pens of academe. That, of course, is a two-way street. For every coach who leaves his team in the lurch to take his "dream job" there is one who is summarily axed with years left on his contract. In most cases, the fired coach at least gets his money. The jilted school gets to hijack some other school's coach.
That's why I think that, with the year less than three weeks old, David Cutcliffe has already locked up the Sportsman of the Year trophy. There are those, of course, who feel that Cutclifffe himself should be locked up. What sane man would turn down the head coaching job at Tennessee to remain in the same capacity at Duke? We're talking football here, not basketball. Duke football has been mainly irrelevant for the past 45 years, dating to Bill Murray's departure in 1965. Cutcliffe is the 10th Blue Devil head coach since then and only one of the previous nine--Steve Spurrier--posted a winning record. At some point in his three-year tenure, I visited with Spurrier in his office to do a story on the Duke revival and found him a little arrogant and brimming with self confidence. He probably could not be blamed for jumping at the Florida job when it became available. He was, after all, a Heisman trophy winner for the Gators.
Of course, Cutcliffe had some valid reasons to skip to Tennessee after Lane Kiffin's abrupt departure. He was a Vols' assistant coach twice and had the distinction of coaching both Peyton Manning, while at Tennessee, and Eli Manning, during his six years as head coach at Ole Miss. He also mentored Brady Quinn during a brief stint at Notre Dame. As a head coach at Mississippi, Cutcliffe had five winning seasons, culminating in a 10-3 season and a victory in the Cotton Bowl. But after a 4-7 season in 2004 he was told to get rid of his assistants and, in a move foreshadowing his recent decision, refused and was fired. After a stint with Notre Dame he went back to Tennessee and it was from there that Duke plucked him two years ago. He has family in Knoxville and knowledge of the program. He would have been a natural; his hiring would have gone a long way towards salving the wounded feelings of the Rocky Top faithful.
But he turned down Tennessee, one of the top coaching jobs in the country, to remain at Duke, where he went 4-8 and 5-7 in his first two seasons. "The job is not finished here," he explained. In a recent interview with McClatchy newspapers, he referred to Spurrier's three and out: "He came in, threw the ball around, and went on to a job at his alma mater. We're not trying to be a flash in the pan and go on to something else. We're trying to commit to this thing and make it a way of life."
Cutcliffe's approach was 180 degrees from that of Kiffin, who, after going 7-6 in his lone season at Tennessee, stunned the Volunteer nation with his mad dash to the West Coast. The USC job opening, of course, came because Pete Carroll unexpectedly left after nine highly successful seasons to become head coach with the Seattle Seahawks of the NFL. While some Trojan fans may be upset that Carroll left, most of them are pretty sanguine about it. After all, the man left them two national championships, three Heisman winners, and a lifetime of memories. All Kiffin left the folks in Tennessee was the bitter taste of ashes.
The time is long past when a man's word was his bond and his handshake his troth. We are now living in an age when even a signed contract, as I once was told by my boss at the Chicago Tribune, "isn't worth the paper it's printed on." Nowhere is this more evident than in college sports, where football and basketball coaches have been known to jump ship more readily than a Shanghaied sailor. There is more loyalty in a street gang than in the play pens of academe. That, of course, is a two-way street. For every coach who leaves his team in the lurch to take his "dream job" there is one who is summarily axed with years left on his contract. In most cases, the fired coach at least gets his money. The jilted school gets to hijack some other school's coach.
That's why I think that, with the year less than three weeks old, David Cutcliffe has already locked up the Sportsman of the Year trophy. There are those, of course, who feel that Cutclifffe himself should be locked up. What sane man would turn down the head coaching job at Tennessee to remain in the same capacity at Duke? We're talking football here, not basketball. Duke football has been mainly irrelevant for the past 45 years, dating to Bill Murray's departure in 1965. Cutcliffe is the 10th Blue Devil head coach since then and only one of the previous nine--Steve Spurrier--posted a winning record. At some point in his three-year tenure, I visited with Spurrier in his office to do a story on the Duke revival and found him a little arrogant and brimming with self confidence. He probably could not be blamed for jumping at the Florida job when it became available. He was, after all, a Heisman trophy winner for the Gators.
Of course, Cutcliffe had some valid reasons to skip to Tennessee after Lane Kiffin's abrupt departure. He was a Vols' assistant coach twice and had the distinction of coaching both Peyton Manning, while at Tennessee, and Eli Manning, during his six years as head coach at Ole Miss. He also mentored Brady Quinn during a brief stint at Notre Dame. As a head coach at Mississippi, Cutcliffe had five winning seasons, culminating in a 10-3 season and a victory in the Cotton Bowl. But after a 4-7 season in 2004 he was told to get rid of his assistants and, in a move foreshadowing his recent decision, refused and was fired. After a stint with Notre Dame he went back to Tennessee and it was from there that Duke plucked him two years ago. He has family in Knoxville and knowledge of the program. He would have been a natural; his hiring would have gone a long way towards salving the wounded feelings of the Rocky Top faithful.
But he turned down Tennessee, one of the top coaching jobs in the country, to remain at Duke, where he went 4-8 and 5-7 in his first two seasons. "The job is not finished here," he explained. In a recent interview with McClatchy newspapers, he referred to Spurrier's three and out: "He came in, threw the ball around, and went on to a job at his alma mater. We're not trying to be a flash in the pan and go on to something else. We're trying to commit to this thing and make it a way of life."
Cutcliffe's approach was 180 degrees from that of Kiffin, who, after going 7-6 in his lone season at Tennessee, stunned the Volunteer nation with his mad dash to the West Coast. The USC job opening, of course, came because Pete Carroll unexpectedly left after nine highly successful seasons to become head coach with the Seattle Seahawks of the NFL. While some Trojan fans may be upset that Carroll left, most of them are pretty sanguine about it. After all, the man left them two national championships, three Heisman winners, and a lifetime of memories. All Kiffin left the folks in Tennessee was the bitter taste of ashes.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
By Bob Markus
So you thought you could slip one by me. Thought I wasn't paying any attention. The whole football world is up in arms about the Indianapolis Colts pulling their star players in the middle of a game when they still had a chance at a perfect season and you look for my reaction. Might as well ask the Dali Lama what he thinks about American Idol. That's the trouble with writing a weekly column. Some weeks there are five or six big stories and your job then is to decide which is the one that grabs the most readers by the throat. Sometimes weeks go by without a single story that sits up and begs to be addressed. Feast or famine is the name of the game and sports writers have been eating high on the blog these last few weeks. Just look at the pile of tasty treats laid out before us in the past five days alone.
Alabama beats Texas for the national championship in a game that is decided in the first five minutes. That's about how long Colt McCoy lasted before being sent to the infirmary with a shoulder injury. The next day the University of South Florida fires head football coach Jim Leavitt, the only coach the Bulls have had in their 13-year history. His crime: Allegedly grabbing a player by the throat at halftime of the Louisville game, slapping him in the face and lying about it to investigators. Say it isn't so, Jim "It isn't so," Leavitt declares. Leavitt's sacking comes just days after an even higher profile coach, Texas Tech's Mike Leach, is booted out the door under similar circumstances. Leach, who is not the only coach the Red Raiders have had, but is the coach who put the school on the football map, is accused of sending an injured player into solitary confinement for the crime of incurring a concussion. Leach counters that he was fired because he had wrangled too high a salary in contentious contract negotiations last winter. But that's old news. In the meantime, the doors of the Baseball Hall of Fame widen just enough for Andre Dawson to sneak through. Dawson, who played for 21 years, mostly with the Montreal Expos and Chicago Cubs, had been knocking at the Hall of Fame door for nine years before getting the summons. No sooner is Dawson safely inside than the doors slam shut right in the faces of Bert Blyleven and Roberto Alomar. There are 539 ballots returned by members of the Baseball Writers Association of America and, needing 75 per cent (405 votes), Blyleven, in his 13th attempt, falls five votes shy and Alomar, in his first try, misses by eight votes. Mark McGwire, whose presumed dependence on steroids is about to become established fact, gets only 128 votes, one of them mine.
The week-end brings the wildcard rounds of the NFL playoffs and although three of the games are walkovers, the lone exception makes up for it. The Green Bay Packers and Arizona Cardinals engage in an epic shootout between the grizzled gunslinger, Kurt Warner, and the new kid on the block, Aaron Rodgers. When the dust settles, both are still standing and the score is tied at 45-all. It is obvious to everyone in the stadium and millions watching on television that whichever team wins the coin flip will win the game. NFL playoff rules vary greatly from college rules. In the college game both teams have an opportunity to score and the game can go on for as many overtime periods as is required. In the NFL it's strictly sudden death. First team that scores wins and if it turns out to be the other guy you're out of luck. The Chicago Bears once won a game in Detroit by returning the overtime kickoff for a touchdown. The Lions never even sniffed the ball. Something similar appears inevitable here. Neither defense seems capable of stopping the opponents' offense or even slowing it down. So when the Packers win the flip, Green Bay fans rush to telephone their travel agents to make arrangements for the next round. Then comes the jaw-dropping conclusion. As expected, the Cardinals' offense never does see the ball again. But its beleaguered defense does. On third and six in the first series after the kickoff, Rodgers is stripped of the ball, inadvertently kicks it to Cardinal linebacker Karlos Dansby and, 17 yards later--touchdown. Arizona wins 51-45.
So now everyone is talking about the NFL playoffs, right? Well, maybe for a few hours, until rumors start bubbling out of Los Angeles that USC Coach Pete Carroll is going to take the head coaching job with the Seattle Seahawks. By Monday the story goes well beyond the rumor stage and eventually is confirmed. But by that time everybody is talking about McGwire's confession that he, indeed, took steroids during his glory years.
So what's a guy supposed to write about? Warner? O.K. Many are saying his near-perfect performance Sunday almost assures his enshrinement in the NFL Hall of Fame. I'm saying he didn't need any reaffirmation. He's already a first ballot Hall of Famer. Carroll? How's this? Some are saying he's running away from possible NCAA sanctions against his USC team. I'm saying this: He went for the money (about 6 1/2 million a year) and the challenge. And I'll further say that he will fail this time, just as he did the first time around. And the second. McGwire? Some are saying his confession and apparent contrition will eventually lead him into the Hall of Fame. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I voted for McGwire in the latest election and I'll continue to vote for him as long as baseball sees fit to put him on the ballot. But I'm in the minority and our numbers are shrinking.
So those are some of the things I could comment on this week, but I've got unfinished business to attend to first. Now about those Indianapolis Colts, who pulled quarterback Peyton Manning and several other starters in the third quarter of a game they were leading 15-10 and would eventually lose 29-15. The Colts justified the decision by pointing out that they risked injuries to their star players when they already had secured home field advantage throughout the AFC playoffs. They may have felt justified when the New England Patriots, who did not sit any of their star players, lost receiver Wes Welker to a devastating injury in a game that basically was meaningless. But, hey, listen up. Football is a physical game. Guys get hurt. But there is no such thing as a meaningless game. It's not a meaningless game to the guy who pays $80 a seat, $80 that he probably can't afford, and thinks he's going to see a professional football team. The NFL has rules about hiding injuries. There are deadlines for reporting injuries that might keep a player out of the game. There are substantial fines for failure to honestly report such injuries. I propose this: mandate that any team that intends to keep a non-injured player off the field on Sunday, report it to the league by Thursday of game week. And let the poor sap who paid the 80 bucks have the option of returning his ticket and getting his money back.
So you thought you could slip one by me. Thought I wasn't paying any attention. The whole football world is up in arms about the Indianapolis Colts pulling their star players in the middle of a game when they still had a chance at a perfect season and you look for my reaction. Might as well ask the Dali Lama what he thinks about American Idol. That's the trouble with writing a weekly column. Some weeks there are five or six big stories and your job then is to decide which is the one that grabs the most readers by the throat. Sometimes weeks go by without a single story that sits up and begs to be addressed. Feast or famine is the name of the game and sports writers have been eating high on the blog these last few weeks. Just look at the pile of tasty treats laid out before us in the past five days alone.
Alabama beats Texas for the national championship in a game that is decided in the first five minutes. That's about how long Colt McCoy lasted before being sent to the infirmary with a shoulder injury. The next day the University of South Florida fires head football coach Jim Leavitt, the only coach the Bulls have had in their 13-year history. His crime: Allegedly grabbing a player by the throat at halftime of the Louisville game, slapping him in the face and lying about it to investigators. Say it isn't so, Jim "It isn't so," Leavitt declares. Leavitt's sacking comes just days after an even higher profile coach, Texas Tech's Mike Leach, is booted out the door under similar circumstances. Leach, who is not the only coach the Red Raiders have had, but is the coach who put the school on the football map, is accused of sending an injured player into solitary confinement for the crime of incurring a concussion. Leach counters that he was fired because he had wrangled too high a salary in contentious contract negotiations last winter. But that's old news. In the meantime, the doors of the Baseball Hall of Fame widen just enough for Andre Dawson to sneak through. Dawson, who played for 21 years, mostly with the Montreal Expos and Chicago Cubs, had been knocking at the Hall of Fame door for nine years before getting the summons. No sooner is Dawson safely inside than the doors slam shut right in the faces of Bert Blyleven and Roberto Alomar. There are 539 ballots returned by members of the Baseball Writers Association of America and, needing 75 per cent (405 votes), Blyleven, in his 13th attempt, falls five votes shy and Alomar, in his first try, misses by eight votes. Mark McGwire, whose presumed dependence on steroids is about to become established fact, gets only 128 votes, one of them mine.
The week-end brings the wildcard rounds of the NFL playoffs and although three of the games are walkovers, the lone exception makes up for it. The Green Bay Packers and Arizona Cardinals engage in an epic shootout between the grizzled gunslinger, Kurt Warner, and the new kid on the block, Aaron Rodgers. When the dust settles, both are still standing and the score is tied at 45-all. It is obvious to everyone in the stadium and millions watching on television that whichever team wins the coin flip will win the game. NFL playoff rules vary greatly from college rules. In the college game both teams have an opportunity to score and the game can go on for as many overtime periods as is required. In the NFL it's strictly sudden death. First team that scores wins and if it turns out to be the other guy you're out of luck. The Chicago Bears once won a game in Detroit by returning the overtime kickoff for a touchdown. The Lions never even sniffed the ball. Something similar appears inevitable here. Neither defense seems capable of stopping the opponents' offense or even slowing it down. So when the Packers win the flip, Green Bay fans rush to telephone their travel agents to make arrangements for the next round. Then comes the jaw-dropping conclusion. As expected, the Cardinals' offense never does see the ball again. But its beleaguered defense does. On third and six in the first series after the kickoff, Rodgers is stripped of the ball, inadvertently kicks it to Cardinal linebacker Karlos Dansby and, 17 yards later--touchdown. Arizona wins 51-45.
So now everyone is talking about the NFL playoffs, right? Well, maybe for a few hours, until rumors start bubbling out of Los Angeles that USC Coach Pete Carroll is going to take the head coaching job with the Seattle Seahawks. By Monday the story goes well beyond the rumor stage and eventually is confirmed. But by that time everybody is talking about McGwire's confession that he, indeed, took steroids during his glory years.
So what's a guy supposed to write about? Warner? O.K. Many are saying his near-perfect performance Sunday almost assures his enshrinement in the NFL Hall of Fame. I'm saying he didn't need any reaffirmation. He's already a first ballot Hall of Famer. Carroll? How's this? Some are saying he's running away from possible NCAA sanctions against his USC team. I'm saying this: He went for the money (about 6 1/2 million a year) and the challenge. And I'll further say that he will fail this time, just as he did the first time around. And the second. McGwire? Some are saying his confession and apparent contrition will eventually lead him into the Hall of Fame. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I voted for McGwire in the latest election and I'll continue to vote for him as long as baseball sees fit to put him on the ballot. But I'm in the minority and our numbers are shrinking.
So those are some of the things I could comment on this week, but I've got unfinished business to attend to first. Now about those Indianapolis Colts, who pulled quarterback Peyton Manning and several other starters in the third quarter of a game they were leading 15-10 and would eventually lose 29-15. The Colts justified the decision by pointing out that they risked injuries to their star players when they already had secured home field advantage throughout the AFC playoffs. They may have felt justified when the New England Patriots, who did not sit any of their star players, lost receiver Wes Welker to a devastating injury in a game that basically was meaningless. But, hey, listen up. Football is a physical game. Guys get hurt. But there is no such thing as a meaningless game. It's not a meaningless game to the guy who pays $80 a seat, $80 that he probably can't afford, and thinks he's going to see a professional football team. The NFL has rules about hiding injuries. There are deadlines for reporting injuries that might keep a player out of the game. There are substantial fines for failure to honestly report such injuries. I propose this: mandate that any team that intends to keep a non-injured player off the field on Sunday, report it to the league by Thursday of game week. And let the poor sap who paid the 80 bucks have the option of returning his ticket and getting his money back.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
By Bob Markus
Remember when Slippery Rock was every college football fan's favorite team? In stadiums across the country, fans used to listen for the scores of other teams to be announced and the largest cheer of all would be when the P.A. announcer would intone ". . .and Slippery Rock, 28; Susquehanna, 13." If you asked them, few fans would be able to tell you why they rooted for Slippery Rock. I once went to the Slippery Rock campus in western Pennsylvania and tried to find out. It was a mystery to the folks at Slippery Rock, too.
Boise State is the new Slippery Rock. Except that Boise State is more than just a funny name. Boise State is one heckuva football team and we may never find out just how good it is, this Little Team That Could. I marvelled, along with most college football fans who live outside the state of Oklahoma, when the Broncos beat the smug Sooners, 43-42, in the 2007 Fiesta Bowl in what has to be one of the five best college football games ever played. I took note of their unbeaten regular season a year ago, a season marred only by a 17-16 loss to Texas Christian in the Poinsettia bowl. I was impressed by Boise State's opening night 19-8 victory over Oregon to start this season and rooted for it to go unbeaten again. But last night I was hoping that Texas Christian would do it again, spoil the Broncos' perfect season. Here's why: Because if TCU had added Boise State's pelt to its string of 13 straight victories, going back to last year's bowl game, the Horned Frogs would have had a legitimate claim to at least half of the national championship that now will go, unencumbered, to the winner of Thursday night's Texas-Alabama game. Certainly, Boise State supporters will now make that claim for their own school. But it's not going to happen. Too bad. A little chaos is not necessarily a bad thing and chaos there might have been had TCU prevailed.
There are two reasons that Boise State has no shot at any part of the national championship. One--The winner of the No.1 vs No.2 matchup in the Rose bowl Thursday night is the automatic winner of the BCS championship trophy. Two--Cincinnati. When the bowl season began, there were five unbeaten teams, all with a shot of at least getting the Associated Press i.e. sports writers version of the championship. Sure, the chances were slim that anyone but Texas or Alabama would ascend the throne. That became "none" when Florida blew the 13-0 Cincinnati Bearcats out of the water in the Sugar bowl. The Gators' 51-24 walkover served to remind voters of the gulf between the traditional gridiron powers and the Johnny-come-latelies like Cincinnati, Boise State and TCU. So TCU's hopes probably were crushed even before Monday night's 17-10 loss to Boise State in the Fiesta bowl. Chances are, they probably were gone the moment TCU and Boise State were slated to play each other, leaving neither team the chance to prove they were as good as the teams from the BCS (Bowl Championship Series) conferences.
But going in, the Horned Frogs still had a better chance than Boise State to crash the BCS victory parade. TCU could make a case that it's schedule was every bit as tough as either Texas' or Alabama's. Yes, TCU plays in the Mountain West conference and that's supposed to be playing not only in a different league but a different galaxy from the leagues the Crimson Tide (SEC) and Longhorns (Big 12) preside over. But TCU's schedule included six teams that have won their bowl games this season. And until TCU itself was beaten, the Mountain West had a perfect 4-0 bowl record. Now let's look at Alabama's schedule. Do North Texas, Tennessee-Chattanooga and Florida International scare you? Didn't scare 'Bama fans, either. How about Texas' nonconference schedule. Louisiana-Monroe. Wyoming. UTEP. Central Florida. The Longhorns struggled in the first half before overpowering Wyoming 41-10. TCU beat the Cowboys 45-10.
Boise State, on the other hand, played in the weak Western Athletic Conference and had just one signature victory going into the Fiesta Bowl--the opening nighter over Oregon. But that one was a beauty. The Broncos squeezed the life out of the Ducks, holding them without a first down in the entire first half. That defensive masterpiece looked better and better as Oregon began to not only pile up victories, but massive scoring totals. Had Oregon won its Rose Bowl game against Ohio State, Boise State might yet have had a good argument for its title claim. After holding TCU to 10 points, the Broncos' unheralded defense has now humbled two of the top offensive teams in the country. What that proves is that, if you give them a few weeks to prepare, Boise State can beat any team in the country. Maybe they could do it without extra preparation. We'll probably never know.
SOME QUESTIONS THAT DESERVE ANSWERS:
Can anyone tell me why spiking the ball to stop the clock is not intentional grounding? You're supposed to be penalized if you're in the pocket, throw the ball where there is no apparent receiver, and don't get the ball to the line of scrimmage. And don't tell me the quarterback does get the ball to the line of scrimmage. They invariably take a step backwards before grounding the ball.
Can anyone tell me why they always make the button hole smaller than the button?
Just asking.
Remember when Slippery Rock was every college football fan's favorite team? In stadiums across the country, fans used to listen for the scores of other teams to be announced and the largest cheer of all would be when the P.A. announcer would intone ". . .and Slippery Rock, 28; Susquehanna, 13." If you asked them, few fans would be able to tell you why they rooted for Slippery Rock. I once went to the Slippery Rock campus in western Pennsylvania and tried to find out. It was a mystery to the folks at Slippery Rock, too.
Boise State is the new Slippery Rock. Except that Boise State is more than just a funny name. Boise State is one heckuva football team and we may never find out just how good it is, this Little Team That Could. I marvelled, along with most college football fans who live outside the state of Oklahoma, when the Broncos beat the smug Sooners, 43-42, in the 2007 Fiesta Bowl in what has to be one of the five best college football games ever played. I took note of their unbeaten regular season a year ago, a season marred only by a 17-16 loss to Texas Christian in the Poinsettia bowl. I was impressed by Boise State's opening night 19-8 victory over Oregon to start this season and rooted for it to go unbeaten again. But last night I was hoping that Texas Christian would do it again, spoil the Broncos' perfect season. Here's why: Because if TCU had added Boise State's pelt to its string of 13 straight victories, going back to last year's bowl game, the Horned Frogs would have had a legitimate claim to at least half of the national championship that now will go, unencumbered, to the winner of Thursday night's Texas-Alabama game. Certainly, Boise State supporters will now make that claim for their own school. But it's not going to happen. Too bad. A little chaos is not necessarily a bad thing and chaos there might have been had TCU prevailed.
There are two reasons that Boise State has no shot at any part of the national championship. One--The winner of the No.1 vs No.2 matchup in the Rose bowl Thursday night is the automatic winner of the BCS championship trophy. Two--Cincinnati. When the bowl season began, there were five unbeaten teams, all with a shot of at least getting the Associated Press i.e. sports writers version of the championship. Sure, the chances were slim that anyone but Texas or Alabama would ascend the throne. That became "none" when Florida blew the 13-0 Cincinnati Bearcats out of the water in the Sugar bowl. The Gators' 51-24 walkover served to remind voters of the gulf between the traditional gridiron powers and the Johnny-come-latelies like Cincinnati, Boise State and TCU. So TCU's hopes probably were crushed even before Monday night's 17-10 loss to Boise State in the Fiesta bowl. Chances are, they probably were gone the moment TCU and Boise State were slated to play each other, leaving neither team the chance to prove they were as good as the teams from the BCS (Bowl Championship Series) conferences.
But going in, the Horned Frogs still had a better chance than Boise State to crash the BCS victory parade. TCU could make a case that it's schedule was every bit as tough as either Texas' or Alabama's. Yes, TCU plays in the Mountain West conference and that's supposed to be playing not only in a different league but a different galaxy from the leagues the Crimson Tide (SEC) and Longhorns (Big 12) preside over. But TCU's schedule included six teams that have won their bowl games this season. And until TCU itself was beaten, the Mountain West had a perfect 4-0 bowl record. Now let's look at Alabama's schedule. Do North Texas, Tennessee-Chattanooga and Florida International scare you? Didn't scare 'Bama fans, either. How about Texas' nonconference schedule. Louisiana-Monroe. Wyoming. UTEP. Central Florida. The Longhorns struggled in the first half before overpowering Wyoming 41-10. TCU beat the Cowboys 45-10.
Boise State, on the other hand, played in the weak Western Athletic Conference and had just one signature victory going into the Fiesta Bowl--the opening nighter over Oregon. But that one was a beauty. The Broncos squeezed the life out of the Ducks, holding them without a first down in the entire first half. That defensive masterpiece looked better and better as Oregon began to not only pile up victories, but massive scoring totals. Had Oregon won its Rose Bowl game against Ohio State, Boise State might yet have had a good argument for its title claim. After holding TCU to 10 points, the Broncos' unheralded defense has now humbled two of the top offensive teams in the country. What that proves is that, if you give them a few weeks to prepare, Boise State can beat any team in the country. Maybe they could do it without extra preparation. We'll probably never know.
SOME QUESTIONS THAT DESERVE ANSWERS:
Can anyone tell me why spiking the ball to stop the clock is not intentional grounding? You're supposed to be penalized if you're in the pocket, throw the ball where there is no apparent receiver, and don't get the ball to the line of scrimmage. And don't tell me the quarterback does get the ball to the line of scrimmage. They invariably take a step backwards before grounding the ball.
Can anyone tell me why they always make the button hole smaller than the button?
Just asking.
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