DOC'S PENALTY BOX
ARCHIVES
JANUARY 2009
SUPER SUNDAY
Super Bowl Sunday is a national holiday--maybe it's not officially recognized--but it's a national holiday all-the-same.
No other sporting event in America garners as much attention as the Super Bowl.
The World Series may be the Fall Classic, but unless the average fan has a
vested interest in one of the teams--they're most likely not going to watch.
But the Super Bowl... That's another story
Millions, who could care less who's playing, will be gathered around the TV Sunday because it's become more a social event than a game.
Super Bowl parties, commercials, betting squares, half-time shows, have all become part of our every day life; even if you're not even a casual football fan.
For a die-hard such as me, Super Sunday means so much more.
Super Bowl Sunday is...
Watching Super Bowl III, sitting on the couch with my dad, as Joe Willie and the Jets shock the Colts and the world--and change football forever. One of my first sports memories. (We were pulling for the Jets)
Miami completing the perfect season, despite Garo Yepremian's pathetic attempt to throw a football.
Defenses named, Doomsday, No Name, and the Steel Curtain.
The Rams' Jack Youngblood playing the entire Super Bowl with a broke leg--A BROKEN FREAKIN' LEG!
Terry Bradshaw to Lynn Swann for another unbelievable Super Bowl highlight.
Jim Plunkett coming from football purgatory to lead the Raiders to two championships in four years.
The 1985 Bears confirming their place as perhaps the Greatest Team Ever!
Doug Williams cementing his place in not just football but societal history as more than "just" a Super Bowl MVP.
Joe Montana's surgical precision.
Troy, Emmett and Michael.
John Elway! Kurt Warner! Brett Favre! Trent Dilfer?
Adam Vinatieri winning TWO Super Bowls on the game's last play.
The Manning brothers winning back-to-back Super Bowls and each being named MVP.
David Tyree's amazing, phenomenal, spectacular helmet catch--over and over again.
And, watching Super Bowl XXXVI, seeing the Rams' punter take the field and swelling up with pride because that's my friend John David, on sports' biggest stage.
The game means many things to many people. For many, it's a chance to simply get together for a good party; or win some $$$ when that field goal right before half-time changes the numbers to 7-and-4; or view the best commercials of the year.
But for some others (like me) it's a day to worship at the alter of something that has become more than just a game. It's a day to honor a sport and a game that has become a huge part of our American culture.
AND ANOTHER THING:
Kay Yow lost her battle with Breast Cancer this weekend--a battle that lasted over 20 years.
In the time since her first diagnosis in 1987, Kay Yow won three ACC Championships at North Carolina State, advanced to the Final Four in 1998, missed 16 games due to remission in 2007 only to lead the WolfPack to the Sweet-16 (including wins over UNC and Duke), and in 1988 (one year after her diagnosis) coached the Olympic Women's team to the Gold Medal.
In 1993, she lost her good friend and fellow WolfPack coach Jim Valvano to cancer. Weeks later her mother lost her fight with the disease.
Upon joining the Jimmy V Foundation after her friend's death Yow put her career in the most proper perspective, "I said a long time ago in my career that if what I'm doing is just about W's and L's -- wow, how superficial. I give my whole life to that? No, it's about investing in people."
Cancer took so much from Kay Yow: her appetite, her energy, her golf game, her beloved afternoons with a good book. But every time it took something more, there was Kay, with more and more to give--to give to her friends, her players, her sport, to the fight for others who faced the horrible battle.
So to say that Kay Yow lost her battle with Breast Cancer could be a misconception. More appropriately, Kay Yow kicked Cancer's ass for 22 years--then probably decided it's just time for a well-deserved rest.
September 2008
GLORY DAYS
With the recent death of NFL Players Association President Gene Upshaw, came the usual plaudits and eulogizing over his impact on the history of the National Football League.
The acclaim is certainly well deserved. Upshaw changed the game forever, in a way rivaled only by the late Pete Rozelle. Everyone that has played pro football in the past 20 years and those that come along in the future owe more than they’ll ever be able to repay to Gene Upshaw. He was the greatest friend a pro football player ever had.
But for me, the recollections of Gene Upshaw begin with what he did on the field. He was, simply put, one of the greatest offensive linemen who ever lived. Upshaw and Art Shell were the anchors of the Oakland Raiders teams that won two Super Bowls.
It was once said of Shell & Upshaw that, “…those two could block out the Sun.” That obviously came from a defensive lineman that had to spend an afternoon being battered and beaten by the devastating duo.
When I was younger, I was a huge fan of the Oakland Raiders—silver and black were my favorite colors by far. I was fascinated by the rogues gallery that made the Raiders not only one of the most colorful teams ever, but one of the NFL’s best ever. They were the antithesis to the Dallas Cowboys—the squeaky-clean, white uniform, star on the helmet, goody-goody’s of the NFL. I always liked the bad guys like the Raiders—they played football the way it’s supposed to be played: as if you hate the whole world!
And as I looked back on the memories of Gene Upshaw as a player, I also began to think about my favorite players of all time. Of course, when a sportscaster starts waxing nostalgic, you can be sure a list is not far behind. And yes, that is the case this time.
So, for the approval of absolutely no one but me and the football gods, here is my list of the All-Time Sports Doc NFL team (my own personal Dream Team).
One thing though, these are players I saw extensively during their careers—that’ s why there will be no Jim Brown, Johnny Unitas or Don Hutson—their careers were either over or nearing their end by the time I began watching pro football. And, these guys have to also display the Sports Doc attributes (play the game as if you hate the whole world!).
OFFENSIVE LINE: The best place to start. It’s where every single game ever has been won or lost. These are my guys—my beloved “Hogs”!!! TACKLES: ART SHELL, Oakland Raiders; ANTHONY MUNOZ, Cincinnati Bengals. GUARDS: GENE UPSHAW, Oakland Raiders; JOHN “HOG” HANNAH, New England Patriots. CENTER: MIKE WEBSTER, Pittsburgh Steelers. TIGHT END: DAVE CASPER, Oakland Raiders.
I already addressed the Shell/Upshaw factors, as for Munoz he’s probably the closest to a consensus pick as the greatest offensive lineman ever. John Hannah revolutionized the pulling guard with amazing speed that allowed him to escort runners well downfield. Mike Webster played center with a psychotic nature that kept Terry Bradshaw virtually untouched. As for tight end, which is an offensive line position, Dave Caspar repeatedly made big catch after big catch, while also delivering crushing blocks for the running game.
WIDE RECEIVERS: JERRY RICE, San Francisco 49ers; STEVE LARGENT, Seattle Seahawks.
Jerry Rice, plain and simple is the best receiver in history—end of argument. Steve Largent beats out the likes of Terrell Owens and Randy Moss on two fronts: 1) softest hands ever—the best possession receiver of our time and 2) Attitude—nuff’ said.
RUNNING BACKS: WALTER PAYTON, Chicago Bears; EARL CAMPBELL, Houston Oilers.
The nickname “Sweetness” certainly is appropriate when describing Payton. He combined the grace of a Gale Sayers with the power of a Jim Brown to produce the greatest running back who ever lived. Earl Campbell was probably the most fun to watch of any running back ever.
QUARTERBACK: JOE MONTANA, San Francisco 49ers.
No quarterback, including the legendary Roger Staubach, ever went for the jugular better that Montana. He engineered repeated comebacks—but also masterminded more sound beatings than any other QB I can recall. His specialty was delivering the death nail in the second and third quarters to teams that made that one crucial mistake. Montana went for the throat like no quarterback ever.
DEFENSIVE LINE: Again, this is where the game is won and lost. Control the defensive front and you control the offense. ENDS: REGGIE WHITE, Philadelphia/Green Bay; LYLE ALZADO, Denver/Oakland. TACKLES: RANDY WHITE, Dallas Cowboys; BOB LILLY, Dallas Cowboys.
Reggie White was not called “The Minister of Defense” solely because of his devotion to his faith. He delivered the sermon from his mount, “Thou shalt not pass”, and “..I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger.” Lyle Alzado, while—by far—not the most talented or accomplished defensive end ever, is simply one of my favorite players ever. He more than anyone exhibits the “hate the world” rule. Howie Long said the first time he was ever on the field with Alzado he actually stopped during the first play because Alzado was beating the offensive tackle, screaming, “…I’m going to kill you, your mother, your father, your wife, your kids, anyone who knows you!!!” WOW!!! Randy White is my favorite Cowboy of all-time. He once chased down and tackled Eric Dickerson 40 yards down field when Dickerson began showboating on the way to the end zone—that’s how Randy White played the game. Bob Lilly was the unstoppable, unblockable force of the Doomsday Defense.
LINEBACKERS: LAWRENCE TAYLOR, NY Giants; DICK BUTKUS, Chicago Bears; JACK HAM, Pittsburgh Steelers.
The original LT was pure and simple, the most revolutionary defensive player in NFL history. He changed the way the position was played. Likely the greatest pass-rushing linebacker of all-time, he also was able to cover RB’s and TE’s downfield. Dick Butkus is, well… Dick Butkus. A foreign reporter once asked Butkus about the phrase “rip your head off” and what if it actually happened. Butkus’ reply, “…well if it was a clean hit, I’d be okay with it.” Jack Ham, even though a member of the Hall of Fame, is my choice for the “most underrated player of all time”. Ham was the member of the “Steele Curtain” that never got enough due.
DEFENSIVE BACKS: CORNERS: MIKE HAYNES, New England/Oakland; MEL BOUNT, Pittsburgh Steelers. SAFETIES: RONNIE LOTT, San Francisco 49ers; (TIE) CHARLIE WATERS & CLIFF HARRIS, Dallas Cowboys.
The best description of Mike Haynes came from an opposing coach who once said, “Three-fifths of the world is covered by water. The rest is covered by Mike Haynes.” Mel Blount was probably the most vicious hitter of any DB ever. The NFL changed the rules for pass coverage primarily because of Mel Blount. Ronnie Lott once ripped the tip of a finger off during a game so he wouldn’t have to sit out a play—that alone would qualify him for my team! The fact that he’s the greatest safety ever doesn’t hurt either. You can’t have Charlie Waters without Cliff Harris—the two will forever be linked in Cowboys and NFL history.
SPECIAL TEAMS: None—don’t need ‘em, a waste of time.
Of course, many of you are taking exception with my choices. What’s new? As always, I welcome any and all rebuttals and suggestions about my list. I welcome any and all debate over my picks—just be ready to back it up!
But beware, I just may sic one or two my guys on you!
July 2008
Jon Lester: Winner & Survivor
Last Monday night, while I was emceeing
the Brenham Athletic Awards program, Jon Lester was throwing a no hitter for my
Boston Red Sox.
When I heard of his feat while on my
way home from the awards program, I was furious that I had missed this amazing
feat. Not
because he’s a member of the Red Sox, but because he’s a survivor!
In July of 2006 Jon Lester was
diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a form of Cancer.
He underwent months of treatment and therapy, and a little over a year
later he was back in the Boston rotation.
He went on to win game four of the World Series which clinched the Sox’
second title in four years.
I, like millions of Americans, have a
special place in my heart for Cancer survivors.
There is basically nothing I won’t do for the American Cancer Society,
The Sunshine Kids or Relay for Life—or any other group that supports Cancer
Research.
My first contact with the disease came
about a quarter-of-a-century ago, when my sister Jennifer’s best friend Lisa
was diagnosed with a brain tumor.
Lisa was a larger-than-life, loud,
happy, high-spirited teenager who had befriended my sister and my family when we
had moved to the town of Sheffield.
There were many times when it seemed my parents had two daughters, Jen
and Lisa. For
many years it was a given, whenever you saw Jen there was Lisa and vice-versa.
At first, I didn’t get along with
Lisa too well, but eventually she grew on me—like she did on everyone she came
in contact with.
Then, one day just before she was to
turn 20, Lisa was diagnosed with a brain tumor—malignant.
Over the next months all our family could do was watch as this vibrant
young lady was eventually reduced to a weak, fragile victim of this grotesque,
disgusting disease.
I’ll never forget the last time I saw
Lisa—I’d driven my parents to see her in the hospital in what were her final
days. I was just
going to wait in the car, but my mom convinced me to go inside.
We found Lisa in late stages of her
battle—frail and resigned to her fate.
We talked and laughed, nervously, for about a half hour.
When we went to leave, I did something I’d never done before—I leaned
over and kissed her goodbye.
A kiss I’ll never forget as long as I live.
Early in the morning, two days later my
sister came into my bedroom, sat on the edge of my bed and told me Lisa’s
fight was over. At
first I didn’t cry—was too angry to cry.
Who gave Cancer the right to rob Jennifer of her best friend in the
world, or, to rob the rest of the world from meeting Lisa?
And the truly sad thing is that this
story is not unique—there’s nothing different or special about this story.
Millions and millions of people have dealt with, and will deal with, this
exact same situation. Nearly
every American has been touched by Cancer in one way or another—and if they
haven’t yet, they will be someday.
When many say Jon Lester’s
achievement was “nice”, “a neat thing”, or “so encouraging”, I see
it as spitting in the face of Cancer—telling the disease to “…kiss my %$#!
You’re not going to beat me, you Son of a @#$%&!”
(Sorry about the language but you have to be tough with this thing.)
So here’s to Jon Lester and his
incredible achievement, not the no-hitter, but beating the monster.
And here’s to Jon and every other survivor’s long, long, long, happy
life.
And, by the way, I’m glad you all got
to meet Lisa.
MARCH, 2008
SPORTS
DOC’S
2008 MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL PICKS
NATIONAL LEAGUE
CENTRAL
1-CHICAGO
2-MILWAUKEE
3-CINCINNATI
4-HOUSTON ASTROS
5-ST. LOUIS
6-PITTSBURGH
EAST
1-NY METS
2-ATLANTA
3-PHILADELPHIA
4-WASHINGTON
5-FLORIDA
WEST
1-COLORADO
2-ARIZONA
3-LA DODGERS
4-SAN DIEGO
5-SAN FRANCISCO
AMERICAN LEAGUE
EAST
1-BOSTON
2-NY YANKEES
3-TORONTO
4-BALTIMORE
5-TAMPA BAY
CENTRAL
1-CLEVELAND
2-DETROIT
3-CHICAGO WHITE SOX
4-MINNESOTA
5-KANSAS CITY
WEST
1-SEATTLE
2-LA ANGELS
3-TEXAS RANGERS
4-OAKLAND
NATIONAL
LEAGUE CHAMPION
CHICAGO CUBS
AMERICAN
LEAGUE CHAMPIONS
CLEVELAND
2008WORLD
SERIES CHAMPIONS
CHICAGO CUBS
JANUARY, 2008
2007: IT WAS BEAUTIFUL
"I knew I
really couldn't stay there and I didn't wanna let my team down and I had gone
that far, so there wasn't really a point in laying there," --Claire
Markwardt
You can say this about 2007; it certainly wasn’t without its dramatic moments—as well as its embarrassing ones.
It was a year that was marked more for its lowlights than its highlights—and that is indeed a shame.
It was a year that everyone witnessed the greatest record in baseball history assaulted amidst a cloud of controversy and asterisks. It saw the marquee face of the National Football League spiral helplessly into oblivion due to his own repulsive acts. It was a year that saw a talented but misguided man try to prove he was bigger than his sport by trying to upstage the final game of the World Series. It saw a man dishonor the reputation of officials everywhere by admitting he bet on (and perhaps even fixed) NBA games. It saw one of the greatest pitchers in history engulfed in the dreaded steroid storm. It was also a year in which the winner of one of the most prestigious races in the world had to give back his title, and saw an Olympic legend fall in disgrace as she returned all of her gold. It was a year when a vagabond coach quit on his team just 13 games into his latest “best job in my career” for greener pastures. And it was a year when even the world of “Sports Entertainment” was marred by a “nice guy” whose brain went haywire.
No doubt about it, 2007 definitely was a year that kept showing sports in its worst light.
And that is the tragedy. Because while ESPN, CNN, ABC, etc… trumpeted the sordid exploits of Barry Bonds, Michael Vick, Tim Doneghy, Roger Clemens and others, we were reminded again and again why sports is beautiful.
Brett Favre is why sports is beautiful; The Colorado Rockies are why sports is beautiful; March Madness is why sports is beautiful; David Ortiz and Jonathan Papelbon are why sports is beautiful; The San Antonio Spurs are why sports is beautiful; Roger Federer and Tiger Woods are why sports is beautiful; Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith are why sports is beautiful; The Tennessee Lady Vol basketball team is why sports is beautiful; Kevin Everett is why sports is beautiful; Fall Friday nights in Texas are why sports is beautiful; Peyton Manning holding the Lombardi trophy is why sports is beautiful; The Buccaneers in the National Volleyball Tourney--AGAIN is why sports is beautiful. The lives of Eddie Robinson, Phil Rizzuto and Barbaro are why sports is beautiful; 16-0 is why sports is beautiful.
It’s no secret that “bad news sells”. It’s a natural morbid fascination with the seedier side of life that drives consumers to repeatedly gravitate toward headlines like: VICK IMPLICATED IN DOG FIGHTING RING; BONDS INDICTED BY GRAND JURY; or MITCHELL REPORT IMPLICATES CLEMENS; foregoing the more celebratory, COLTS WIN SUPERBOWL; ROCKIES ON HISTORIC RUN; or GATORS SWEEP NCAA TITLES.
And that’s too bad because if you only concentrated on the sensationalist missteps and failings that were so prevalent this year past, then you missed the simple magnificence that was taken for granted.
You missed two of football’s highest quality men, Tony Dungy and Peyton Manning finally getting that 800-pound gorilla off their backs by winning the Super Bowl. You missed Dalton Carriker blast a walk-off home run giving Warner Robbins, GA the Little League World Championship. You missed Appalachian State going into the Big House and shocking the Big Blue. You missed Trinity University lateral the ball 15 times to win the game. You missed Jon Lester’s comeback from cancer to win game 4 and Jonathan Pappelbon’s river dance. You missed another title for the NBA’s “good guys”. You missed another NCAA hoop title for the game’s greatest coach (she really is!).
And most likely you missed Claire Markwardt. Claire is a high school cross country runner from Ohio whose leg broke 200 yards from the finish at the state meet. She kept running until she collapsed when her fibula snapped in half. She crawled the rest on the way on her hands and knees because, “I didn’t want to let my team down.” Claire Markwardt is why sports is beautiful.
You can have Barry Bonds, Michael Vick, Tim Doneghy, Alex Rodriguez, Marion Jones, Chris Benoit, Floyd Landis, Roger Clemens and Bobby Petrino. Read all the sordid headlines you want.
I’ll take Tony Dungy, Jon Lester and Claire Markwardt any day. Because sports is indeed, beautiful.