To all my friends who like the Chicago Bears...sorry, but I have to write this down.
Your team went and got rid of Rex Grossman. Probably the smartest thing the organization could have ever done in their history. The boy, while great at the college level, just never matured to the point of being a great Pro quarterback.
The year that the Bears managed to get to the Superbowl was purely on the backs of a stellar defensive squad. In fact, during the NFC Championship game that year, it was the efforts of the defense that managed to win the game against the New Orleans Saints. And it wasn't enough to win the SuperBowl. The only thing consistent about Grossman's playing was its inconsistency. One half, or one game he'd be great, and then as quickly as the next game he'd put on one of the most mediocre performances ever.
Now you have Jay Cutler. The Green Bay defense hassled him all the first half and he threw 3 interceptions, and they only scored a measly safety for 2 points, thanks to their stellar defensive efforts. Then, in the 2nd half, he showed more poise, completing more passes and avoiding turnovers. He managed to throw a touchdown pass to Devin Hester to make it a competitive game. Brian Urlacher and a couple other defensemen were out of the game due to injuries at this point, and Green Bay's Aaron Rogers took full advantage of this, running a slightly smoother offense and allowing them to win the game. Green Bay's defense kept up and managed to cause Cutler to go back to his uncertainty in the first half mode.
Now, many of you know I'm an avid 49ers fan. And it's been a few years since I've really been able to follow football with my work schedule. so you're asking yourself, "how in the world could Mookie even know what the heck he's talking about?" A- I'm a football nut, who knows a lot about the sport, and B- its mostly common sense.
We 49er fans were spoiled with the combination of Joe Montana and Steve Young over the years. Two of the leagues most prolific quarterbacks over the history of the NFL. And since Steve Young's departure, we have had a litany of QB's come and go, and none of them were really worth a damn. We kept bringing in promising defensive backs, who by the time we trained them up to a level considered more than adequate, we'd trade them to teams who would then beat us with great secondary players we'd developed for them. It's pretty bad to go from being a football dynasty to the farm team for the league we have been for almost a decade now. Part of it was coaching. Most coaches came to San Francisco thinking they could ride the wave of greatness, only to lose a lot of the old team members wo helped make the 49ers a great team. And those coaches weren't good enough to produce the same greatness out of a bunch of 'nobodies.' Luckily for us, Mike Singletary, the legendary Bears defensive player from the 80s is our new coach. He is a no nonsense, high caliber personality when it comes to performing in games and his expectations of players. He isn't going to put up with prima donnas, and allow that kind of drama to take away from our efforts to field a competitive team, so hopefully, our win over the defending NFC Champs, the Arizona Cardinals, will be a sign of whats to come. Albeit, we'd like more than 30 yards rushing per game out of Frank Gore.
So now, the Bears, while they basically have the defense down pretty well, really need to learn to put together an offense to boot. And that starts with the quarterback. Trading for QB's who came from teams with an odd assortment of palymakers to help him, isn't going to be the answer. Otherwise, you'll just end up seeing the repeat of Rex Grossman, over and over and over.
Which brings me to Bret Favre (I pronounce it FAV-RAY because that's how its spelled dammit!) Favre is a great quarterback, no doubt about it. All this retiring and unretiring has dominated the sports news the past couple of years. And it really is tiring to listen too. I've never liked Favre, and part of that is that his Packers kept beating up my 49ers, and I've never been a Packers fan anyways (I lump this hatred as being equal to that of my hatred for the Dallas Cowboys- is there a rule that both can lose the game when playing each other?). The one thing Bret had to add to his great performances were playmakers for running backs and receivers. And he has good leadership qualities about him, to help them out in return. He will be a Hall of Famer, no doubt about it. When he went to the Jets, though, their offense was pretty much all about Favre. His supporting cast wasn't strong enough to get him anywhere significant.
Now he is with the Vikings. They looked okay on Sunday. Running back Adrian Peterson was clearly the star of that game however, and made Favre's efforts and leadership seem that more imposing. It could be that Favre has added his experience to improve the Vikings, or the skill of enough Viking players that will add to Favre's status. Either way, they should have a decent team. Far better than the Bears season is looking, if Week 1 was any indicator. The NFC North Division will be between Green Bay and Minnesota, with the Bears and Lions competing for 3rd place in the division.
A bit on Announcers
I think that John Madden, ever in love with Bret Favre, should be forced to unretire himself since Favre did. Their careers with the football world should (if they weren't to a degree already) be inextricably linked. That way we can here drooling commentary from Madden, over Favre's play, abilities, talents, liekability, etc. Also, more teleprompter drawings accompanying "BOOM, and BAM" (John Madden is the audio equivalent of the old Batman flare words), and other exclamation being used while pointing out generally obvious things to anyone who actually knows anything about football.
And if he wasn't so old, and set in his ways, I'd love to see Mr. Whoa Nellie himself, Keith Jackson, back on the announcing scoop. In my mind he is the best sports commentator ever. Not too much chit-chat during the lulls of the game, and he had a way of really ratcheting up the history and importance of certain games, venues, rivalries, along with the right amount of excitement when necessary. He is truly missed by the old school true fans of sports, not unlike myself. His style is a lost art. He coined University of Michigan's stadium "The Big House", and most viewers of college football knew that if Keith Jackson was announcing the game, it was the big game for that week. You know, back when all the network television stations actually showed you games from all around the country. Then Cable stations stole Americans right to watch all those football games and left them with dumb games like Notre Dame Vs anybody. Ahh, the era of good days gone by...kind of like the Bears Football program.
Showing posts with label sports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sports. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Maybe My (Sports) Fatherly Wisdom Will Be Accepted
Yesterday was a good day. After church, I came home and was able to settle into the couch for Week 1 of the NFL regular season. I havent truly been able to watch and follow football for a few years now with my work schedule. But as of late I have been getting weekends off, and can now enjoy it. Week 2 will be somewhat off my radar as I have to cover another guys shift, but Week 3 I should be right back on track.
The first set of games was just randomness to me, as it is early in the season. I noticed that the New Orleans Saints (my boss' favorite team) trounced the Detroit Lions. He'll probably return from his vacation and brag about that. And I will laugh as anyone who brags about beating Detroit is scraping the very bottoms of the barrel. I think the local kids I play backyard football with, under my direction of course, would have a good shot at beating Detroit. I figure the 12 year old neighbor girl, who is a monster at times, would have sacked Stafford at least 3 or 4 times on her own. And my son Josh would have picked apart their defense with the short passing game. He still needs to learn focus and accuracy to a point, but he has a surprising arm for being built like a stick figure(just like I was at his age). My other son, Corwyn "Buggy" Lovell, would have just ran all over them. And then, right after scoring would have found the nearest defender and said to him "You remember when I ran for the touchdown and beat you guys?" Somedays I wonder if he has a true concept of time.
The second set of games provided more interest to me. There were three options on Fox. The first was the Washington Redskins AT New York to face the Giants. Then there was somebody or another AT Seattle. And then my beloved (although a decades worth of disappointment) 49ers taking on the Arizona Cardinals in Arizona. This is regionally the closest game to Iowa, but instead of getting to watch THAT game, I had to endure the WASH-NY game. However, it was finished earlier than the SF-AZ game, and FOX is now offering bonus coverage, so I got to see the last 6 minutes of my team playing. Right after I tuned in, I watched my 49ers score a touchdown and go up 20-16 over Arizona and their Iowa born QB, Kurt Warner. I look over and my youngest is sitting there watching it with me. He asks who is who, and who's winning. I explained that, three times. I swear, having a conversation with a 5 yar old can be exhausting at times. But he caught on, as I explained what needed to happen throughout the rest of the game. He seemed almost as excited as I was.
I was about his age when I first started watching football and cheering on the San Francisco 49ers. Back then, the 49ers were an emerging force that went on to become a major powerhouse in the NFL. They have sucked since my first son was born. But not completely. They would win just enough games to ensure that they would not get a first draft pick of the next season. They would find their way into the middle of the pack, barely. But, yesterday was a good day. My youngest watched as the 49ers put on a defensive display to stifle the defending NFC Champs and their potential high octane offense led by Kurt Warner, and securing the win. I even got a high five out of the deal as "we won." Maybe, just maybe, I will be able to continue to course of modern human history in which fathers and sons hang out together watching football games on Sundays. And it will be good. WE'll have drinks and snacks, and I'll teach them the fine arts that football invovles, and maybe someday in the future, they will get their opportunity to play organized tackle football, instead of playing the watered down, weak version of backyard football that kids play these days.
After the game was over, we ate supper, and then took the football over to the park to throw it around some. We used a smaller ball so Corwyn could handle it. Both boys are showing promise of having cannons for arms. I'm quite enamored with such an idea, as a sportsdad-like kind of guy. (We played backyard football the other day, and both boys were picking up on tips I gave them to out-maneuver otherwise better athletes than they were.) We tossed the ball around and played at the park until it was too dark to play anymore. I settled in for the Bears-Packers Sunday night game later in the first half. Corwyn was playing and then had to take a bath. Josh comes over to the couch and sits down. Starts asking me who's who and who's playing. He even got to watch the bears sack the Green Bay quarterback in the endzone for a safety, a rare scoring opportunity. Is this deja vu I'm experiencing? This is GREEEAAT! Both sons taking an interest in the manly art of football? That's just plain friggin awesome.
My wife, after reading this, will probably begin to tremble with a hint of fear and look to putting psychologists' phone numbers on speed dial. I tamed down a bit after my oldest looked not to be the athlete his father had hoped for (although recent events point to my oldest still looking to be that athlete afterall), with my Sports Dad Syndrome (SDS). But who knows, with hope of athleticism abounding within my sons, it may come roaring back! Should the boys ever play competitive sports in school, my wife will probably see to it that I'm banned from fraternizing with the coaches and from standing on the sidelines during practices and games. And becoming a coach will probably be out of the question. I'm really, REALLY competitive, and that can be a good thing, but if carried too far, I might have kids and parents looking at me sideways. I'm all about winning, giving kids their fair time and all, but none of this "everybody's a winner, we don't keep score" crap. My sons will probably not be allowed to ever play in a league like that....uh-oh, SDS is creeping back in...I better go get the kids out of school and hold football practice! (just kidding honey!)
But now I have to go out and get them some 49er gear at some point. So relatives reading this, think Christmas if you get clothes or jackets for the boys!
The first set of games was just randomness to me, as it is early in the season. I noticed that the New Orleans Saints (my boss' favorite team) trounced the Detroit Lions. He'll probably return from his vacation and brag about that. And I will laugh as anyone who brags about beating Detroit is scraping the very bottoms of the barrel. I think the local kids I play backyard football with, under my direction of course, would have a good shot at beating Detroit. I figure the 12 year old neighbor girl, who is a monster at times, would have sacked Stafford at least 3 or 4 times on her own. And my son Josh would have picked apart their defense with the short passing game. He still needs to learn focus and accuracy to a point, but he has a surprising arm for being built like a stick figure(just like I was at his age). My other son, Corwyn "Buggy" Lovell, would have just ran all over them. And then, right after scoring would have found the nearest defender and said to him "You remember when I ran for the touchdown and beat you guys?" Somedays I wonder if he has a true concept of time.
The second set of games provided more interest to me. There were three options on Fox. The first was the Washington Redskins AT New York to face the Giants. Then there was somebody or another AT Seattle. And then my beloved (although a decades worth of disappointment) 49ers taking on the Arizona Cardinals in Arizona. This is regionally the closest game to Iowa, but instead of getting to watch THAT game, I had to endure the WASH-NY game. However, it was finished earlier than the SF-AZ game, and FOX is now offering bonus coverage, so I got to see the last 6 minutes of my team playing. Right after I tuned in, I watched my 49ers score a touchdown and go up 20-16 over Arizona and their Iowa born QB, Kurt Warner. I look over and my youngest is sitting there watching it with me. He asks who is who, and who's winning. I explained that, three times. I swear, having a conversation with a 5 yar old can be exhausting at times. But he caught on, as I explained what needed to happen throughout the rest of the game. He seemed almost as excited as I was.
I was about his age when I first started watching football and cheering on the San Francisco 49ers. Back then, the 49ers were an emerging force that went on to become a major powerhouse in the NFL. They have sucked since my first son was born. But not completely. They would win just enough games to ensure that they would not get a first draft pick of the next season. They would find their way into the middle of the pack, barely. But, yesterday was a good day. My youngest watched as the 49ers put on a defensive display to stifle the defending NFC Champs and their potential high octane offense led by Kurt Warner, and securing the win. I even got a high five out of the deal as "we won." Maybe, just maybe, I will be able to continue to course of modern human history in which fathers and sons hang out together watching football games on Sundays. And it will be good. WE'll have drinks and snacks, and I'll teach them the fine arts that football invovles, and maybe someday in the future, they will get their opportunity to play organized tackle football, instead of playing the watered down, weak version of backyard football that kids play these days.
After the game was over, we ate supper, and then took the football over to the park to throw it around some. We used a smaller ball so Corwyn could handle it. Both boys are showing promise of having cannons for arms. I'm quite enamored with such an idea, as a sportsdad-like kind of guy. (We played backyard football the other day, and both boys were picking up on tips I gave them to out-maneuver otherwise better athletes than they were.) We tossed the ball around and played at the park until it was too dark to play anymore. I settled in for the Bears-Packers Sunday night game later in the first half. Corwyn was playing and then had to take a bath. Josh comes over to the couch and sits down. Starts asking me who's who and who's playing. He even got to watch the bears sack the Green Bay quarterback in the endzone for a safety, a rare scoring opportunity. Is this deja vu I'm experiencing? This is GREEEAAT! Both sons taking an interest in the manly art of football? That's just plain friggin awesome.
My wife, after reading this, will probably begin to tremble with a hint of fear and look to putting psychologists' phone numbers on speed dial. I tamed down a bit after my oldest looked not to be the athlete his father had hoped for (although recent events point to my oldest still looking to be that athlete afterall), with my Sports Dad Syndrome (SDS). But who knows, with hope of athleticism abounding within my sons, it may come roaring back! Should the boys ever play competitive sports in school, my wife will probably see to it that I'm banned from fraternizing with the coaches and from standing on the sidelines during practices and games. And becoming a coach will probably be out of the question. I'm really, REALLY competitive, and that can be a good thing, but if carried too far, I might have kids and parents looking at me sideways. I'm all about winning, giving kids their fair time and all, but none of this "everybody's a winner, we don't keep score" crap. My sons will probably not be allowed to ever play in a league like that....uh-oh, SDS is creeping back in...I better go get the kids out of school and hold football practice! (just kidding honey!)
But now I have to go out and get them some 49er gear at some point. So relatives reading this, think Christmas if you get clothes or jackets for the boys!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
A Full Day
Yesterday (Wednesday) marked the beginning of my "weekend". I started it off with Laundry Duties, after getting home from work.
Note to readers of my previous blog- I did in fact do it right each and every time instead of wasting to money by running the washer and dryer without clothes in them like I did the other day.
After awhile, the nice albeit VERY humid day summoned me outside. After making it about 3 steps outside our apartment door, the gates of hell opened up, and I began sweating very profusely. So, the first stop was down to the local C-store to get some ice cream and gatorade. Having nearly succumbed to a heat stroke some years back, I wasn't about to push myself without some extra cooling and hydrating agents in my body.
Then it was off to the basketball court. I performed pretty well, but the heat caused us to take a break, and then we decided to play some football (YAY!).
Keep in mind, I am playing with kids half my age who are in really good shape and constantly active. On one of the first plays, a guy from the other team nearly runs a kickoff all the way for a touchdown. What he did not count on was a 30 year old experienced player of the old Neighborhood Football League to show the young kid what real footbal was all about. I did not tackle him, I did not trip him. I merely reached in over his shoulder and came down hard on the football and gently eased it right out behind him and into my other hand. Now the hard part came. I had the entire length of the field and 3 other guys to beat. Like the days of old, I ran with everything I had...1st man gone, 2nd man gone, but the third had the angle on me. Suddenly, as if I was 15 myself, I turned on the afterburners, and my short little legs propelled me as though I was the roadrunner leaving Wile E. Coyote. The tall, athletic boy with much longer legs, a size advantage and the angle to take me out, suddenly found himself staring into the trees looking for his jockstrap. That burst of speed, left him dumbfounded and totally surprised that an old man like me would blow past him like a hurricane. Only one problem....I had stepped out of bounds at one point, with the loosely defined sidelines I might add. But, not an issue.
After having used up enough energy for 2 days, I went into the quarterbacking mode, and made a quick strike to one of my teammates for a one play score. We battled back and forth for awhile, but eventually the heat and humidity got to us, and we decided it was time to hit the gatorade bottles, and the ice in the makeshift cooler (an empty Corona cardboard box), which I promptly dumped on my head. We hung out for awhile just chatting and enjoying the freedom of a summer afternoon.
Then, around 5:45pm it was time for me to go home. I figured I had better shower, or my wife wouldn't want to be too close to me at any point, and we had a date that night. The kids were away with family, so we wanted to take the rare opportunity to spend some time together that was just us. We went out to a nice little steak house, and then off to a park because she wanted to swing for a few minutes. After that, we went downtown for a bit, walking around enjoying our own time together. A little time overlooking the Des Moines River from a pedestrian bridge, followed by a stop at Nollen Plaza, to just sit under a tree on a bench and watch the water fountains that shot into an amphitheater-shaped shallow pool, with a divided waterfall as the backdrop.
Capital Square in Des Moines
Then we set out to get back to our car and back home, as the dark night approached. On the way I was stopped by some sort of vagrant man. He hit my wife and I up with a barrage of compliments...I have seen this routine before, and knew the money asking was coming. However this guy had a different approach than most.
"Hey man, I aint gonna lie to you," he said. " I'm not out of gas, I don't need anything to eat, I just wanna go over here to the Plaza Pantry for a beer."
Well, I am a sucker for honesty. So my good deed for the day ended up being me reaching into my pocket, grabbing a wad of cash and handing over. Then we were off to home.
OH. I almost forgot to tell you. My wife is a cheater. Not in the marital sense, mind you, but she's still a cheater. For years, she has kept Christmas presents for me, away from this house. I have an uncanny ability to guess what is inside any given wrapped present. In fact, to date, my sister is the only one with enough genius in her to fool me...and she did it twice. Well, my wife got tired of this, and no longer leaves any possibility of evidence for me to go to my super-awesome sleuthy (is this a word, or have I been overcome by the spirit of W?) ways. Well, last night, over dinner, Dani was mentioning how funny she thinks I am. She made the mention of the phrase "let me count the ways", so being a naturally sarcastic fool, I made her. She mentioned my ability to mirror speech patterns of whomever I am around and talking with. I already knew this one.
But then she mentioned how I talk in my sleep. I am convinced that I do not, but then again, being asleep, how would I know? So I asked her if she ever got any juicy information out of me. She replied yes. Anything that could get me in trouble? She said no. However, it was at that point that she made the mistake of letting me know that is the way she used to fnd out what I was planning for our anniversary 2 years ago.
We had come out of a particularly rough patch in our relationship prior to our 7th anniversary(we're staring down the barrel at #9 on July 1), so I wanted to do some special stuff. All planned out, spa day for her, followed by a very fancy restuarant that night, and then just some other random activities about town. And somehow, despite my secrecy from a LOT of people, and those who did know were sworn not only to the death, but to the very attachment to them of a certain set of body parts they held dear. (If you don't think I'm serious let me tell you a great plan of mine, and then betray me....you will live to regret it!)
So two years later, while she is able to withhold things against my abilities, I am stuck at her mercy with my great ideas. This irritates me. Not so much that she has been able to do this, but that there really isn't a defense against this. She caught me in a situation where her tool is using one of the natural tools of my survival against me, sleep. What else irritates me, is that her deceitful ways are truly awesome, and I can't help but be impressed. THAT is really irritating.
Note to readers of my previous blog- I did in fact do it right each and every time instead of wasting to money by running the washer and dryer without clothes in them like I did the other day.
After awhile, the nice albeit VERY humid day summoned me outside. After making it about 3 steps outside our apartment door, the gates of hell opened up, and I began sweating very profusely. So, the first stop was down to the local C-store to get some ice cream and gatorade. Having nearly succumbed to a heat stroke some years back, I wasn't about to push myself without some extra cooling and hydrating agents in my body.
Then it was off to the basketball court. I performed pretty well, but the heat caused us to take a break, and then we decided to play some football (YAY!).
Keep in mind, I am playing with kids half my age who are in really good shape and constantly active. On one of the first plays, a guy from the other team nearly runs a kickoff all the way for a touchdown. What he did not count on was a 30 year old experienced player of the old Neighborhood Football League to show the young kid what real footbal was all about. I did not tackle him, I did not trip him. I merely reached in over his shoulder and came down hard on the football and gently eased it right out behind him and into my other hand. Now the hard part came. I had the entire length of the field and 3 other guys to beat. Like the days of old, I ran with everything I had...1st man gone, 2nd man gone, but the third had the angle on me. Suddenly, as if I was 15 myself, I turned on the afterburners, and my short little legs propelled me as though I was the roadrunner leaving Wile E. Coyote. The tall, athletic boy with much longer legs, a size advantage and the angle to take me out, suddenly found himself staring into the trees looking for his jockstrap. That burst of speed, left him dumbfounded and totally surprised that an old man like me would blow past him like a hurricane. Only one problem....I had stepped out of bounds at one point, with the loosely defined sidelines I might add. But, not an issue.
After having used up enough energy for 2 days, I went into the quarterbacking mode, and made a quick strike to one of my teammates for a one play score. We battled back and forth for awhile, but eventually the heat and humidity got to us, and we decided it was time to hit the gatorade bottles, and the ice in the makeshift cooler (an empty Corona cardboard box), which I promptly dumped on my head. We hung out for awhile just chatting and enjoying the freedom of a summer afternoon.
Then, around 5:45pm it was time for me to go home. I figured I had better shower, or my wife wouldn't want to be too close to me at any point, and we had a date that night. The kids were away with family, so we wanted to take the rare opportunity to spend some time together that was just us. We went out to a nice little steak house, and then off to a park because she wanted to swing for a few minutes. After that, we went downtown for a bit, walking around enjoying our own time together. A little time overlooking the Des Moines River from a pedestrian bridge, followed by a stop at Nollen Plaza, to just sit under a tree on a bench and watch the water fountains that shot into an amphitheater-shaped shallow pool, with a divided waterfall as the backdrop.
Capital Square in Des Moines
Then we set out to get back to our car and back home, as the dark night approached. On the way I was stopped by some sort of vagrant man. He hit my wife and I up with a barrage of compliments...I have seen this routine before, and knew the money asking was coming. However this guy had a different approach than most.
"Hey man, I aint gonna lie to you," he said. " I'm not out of gas, I don't need anything to eat, I just wanna go over here to the Plaza Pantry for a beer."
Well, I am a sucker for honesty. So my good deed for the day ended up being me reaching into my pocket, grabbing a wad of cash and handing over. Then we were off to home.
OH. I almost forgot to tell you. My wife is a cheater. Not in the marital sense, mind you, but she's still a cheater. For years, she has kept Christmas presents for me, away from this house. I have an uncanny ability to guess what is inside any given wrapped present. In fact, to date, my sister is the only one with enough genius in her to fool me...and she did it twice. Well, my wife got tired of this, and no longer leaves any possibility of evidence for me to go to my super-awesome sleuthy (is this a word, or have I been overcome by the spirit of W?) ways. Well, last night, over dinner, Dani was mentioning how funny she thinks I am. She made the mention of the phrase "let me count the ways", so being a naturally sarcastic fool, I made her. She mentioned my ability to mirror speech patterns of whomever I am around and talking with. I already knew this one.
But then she mentioned how I talk in my sleep. I am convinced that I do not, but then again, being asleep, how would I know? So I asked her if she ever got any juicy information out of me. She replied yes. Anything that could get me in trouble? She said no. However, it was at that point that she made the mistake of letting me know that is the way she used to fnd out what I was planning for our anniversary 2 years ago.
We had come out of a particularly rough patch in our relationship prior to our 7th anniversary(we're staring down the barrel at #9 on July 1), so I wanted to do some special stuff. All planned out, spa day for her, followed by a very fancy restuarant that night, and then just some other random activities about town. And somehow, despite my secrecy from a LOT of people, and those who did know were sworn not only to the death, but to the very attachment to them of a certain set of body parts they held dear. (If you don't think I'm serious let me tell you a great plan of mine, and then betray me....you will live to regret it!)
So two years later, while she is able to withhold things against my abilities, I am stuck at her mercy with my great ideas. This irritates me. Not so much that she has been able to do this, but that there really isn't a defense against this. She caught me in a situation where her tool is using one of the natural tools of my survival against me, sleep. What else irritates me, is that her deceitful ways are truly awesome, and I can't help but be impressed. THAT is really irritating.
Monday, June 1, 2009
I Don't Know How They Do It!!!
For years I have watched sports, mainly football. You see the hot new rookies showing off their speed and talents, but you also have a large contingent of older veteran players, sometimes in their early 40s, out there showing their talents, their experience, and their sheer power.
You watch these guys, in any sport getting banged up pretty good, day in and day out. And every game, there they are again, putting out their best effort.
Then there is me. This last weekend, I played some basketball, mostly with teenagers. The athlete in my heart is alive and well. All the trash talk, all the pure love of competition, all of the extra weight, all that extra pain, it's all there.
I am feeling muscles in my legs I forgot existed. My back is tight and sore from top to bottom. I'm walking funny and slow. This morning, while running from my patrol car, through a heavy downpour into the gas station after fueling up, I ran like I imagine a crippled girl would look like running. I played basketball, and a little bit of tackle football last year, and I don't remember feeling it as much as I do now. What happened between 29 and 30?
There are full grown old men playing much harder than I am right now who feel "great" despite beating themselves up or getting beat up much worse than I probably ever have in my life. I don't even think I played nearly as hard as I did last year, yet I hurt much much worse.
Sure I was sweating like a soon to be heart-attack victim, and sucking wind like a guy having an asthma attack, but that's nothing new. I did that even in the best shape of my life when I was in the military and in high school football. I lost a few games of "21" on saturday to a teenager, and one of the kid's dad. But I took on an unknown teammate and dominated the games of 2 on 2. Sunday, I played "pig" and "21" winning every game I played. I played through the pain and slow moving syndrome I was suffering. And then last night I went to work. Getting in and out of the patrol car to check houses and commercial properties was pure hell on my legs, and the walking around wasn't much better.
It's supposed to rain off and on today, as well as tomorrow, so I'll have a couple days off to rest from the increased physical activity. Hopefully the next time I play it wont hurt as much. I have plans to do hiking up in the mountains of Wyoming later on this summer, and I would like my legs to be able to move and operate normally without it killing me.
You watch these guys, in any sport getting banged up pretty good, day in and day out. And every game, there they are again, putting out their best effort.
Then there is me. This last weekend, I played some basketball, mostly with teenagers. The athlete in my heart is alive and well. All the trash talk, all the pure love of competition, all of the extra weight, all that extra pain, it's all there.
I am feeling muscles in my legs I forgot existed. My back is tight and sore from top to bottom. I'm walking funny and slow. This morning, while running from my patrol car, through a heavy downpour into the gas station after fueling up, I ran like I imagine a crippled girl would look like running. I played basketball, and a little bit of tackle football last year, and I don't remember feeling it as much as I do now. What happened between 29 and 30?
There are full grown old men playing much harder than I am right now who feel "great" despite beating themselves up or getting beat up much worse than I probably ever have in my life. I don't even think I played nearly as hard as I did last year, yet I hurt much much worse.
Sure I was sweating like a soon to be heart-attack victim, and sucking wind like a guy having an asthma attack, but that's nothing new. I did that even in the best shape of my life when I was in the military and in high school football. I lost a few games of "21" on saturday to a teenager, and one of the kid's dad. But I took on an unknown teammate and dominated the games of 2 on 2. Sunday, I played "pig" and "21" winning every game I played. I played through the pain and slow moving syndrome I was suffering. And then last night I went to work. Getting in and out of the patrol car to check houses and commercial properties was pure hell on my legs, and the walking around wasn't much better.
It's supposed to rain off and on today, as well as tomorrow, so I'll have a couple days off to rest from the increased physical activity. Hopefully the next time I play it wont hurt as much. I have plans to do hiking up in the mountains of Wyoming later on this summer, and I would like my legs to be able to move and operate normally without it killing me.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Pro Football and Fan Disconnect
So, I'm a huge football fan. I've been watching it as far back as I can remember (no, not just three weeks ago). I started off my football days a San Francisco 49ers fan, probably because that was my dad's team (and most of his family for that matter, except his rogue sister Janet, who has relentless hung onto her Oakland teams), and remain so to this day. From the hayday of the 80s to the lower echelons of hell that my team likes to perform in now.
My view of football has changed in little ways over the years, but fundamentally the game remains my favorite overall. When I was young, for the most part your team remained the same, minus the retiring players, plus the incoming rookies. Free Agency was a newer concept. Now instead of playing for your team and your teammates, it seems that many play for the amount of dollar bills they can get. Sure, some want to, and will remain with their team regardless of other offers, and will retire from the game with the same team that drafted them, wihtout ever being traded off. I have even heard of some players voluntarily taking pay cuts to remain with their team, and/or to allow another player to come into the organization, all to satisfy this salary cap imposed on teams (which I have no problem with). But many these days will haggle over the difference of a couple million dollars over a couple years. Player A wants a contract that gives him $11million over 4 years. The Owner says "we'll give you $8million over 5 years." And somehow, this can be a bone of contention that causes the player to stay away from training camp, preseason practices and all that is involved.
Maybe I'm missing some bigger picture here, but it's $3million dollars difference. Personally, once I've hit the $5million dollar mark in life, I'd be pretty friggin happy for life. Yeah, I know what some of you are saying..."The contracts aren't guaranteed, if he gets hurt he loses out on the rest", or "$3million is a LOT of money."
And you'd be right on both counts. But while your career may be shorter, and you may take a lot of abuse over that time, any player that plays 5 years in general has made way more than your average person will in 40 years. I even understand that Player A saw that Player B for some other team, who isn't even as good as him, got a LOT more money, and he thinks he deserves as much. Whatever happened to the love of the game? I think the league minimum for a drafted rookie is in the $300,000+ range. Hell, I'd play an entire career on that salary if I were blessed with enough size and talent to play at such a level, but that's just me. I just like to play, compete and win. Because in the end, to me, winning is the whole point. Getting to gloat afterwards is of course part of the prize, which I am guilty of to many faults. (ask my wife, sister, pretty much anyone who has ever competed against me in anything)
These days, however, your team looks different, save a few key players, every single year. Your guy switches teams, now what do you do? Root for your favorite player or your favorite team?
And it comes from all sides, to be honest, when it comes to being a loyal fan to your team. The owners jack up ticket prices, vending prices, and everything else, making it harder to go see your team play, if your in or near one of the market cities. You have whiny millionaires who demand being traded, or made their bonuses and quit putting forth an absolute 100% effort every play of every game. And now, the next thing that has hit the big time, that puts fans themselves at fault:
FANTASY FOOTBALL!
You have people now who participate in these leagues (sometimes multiple simultaneously) religiously. I played last year, and it created some disconnect from following my team specifically. Yes, it gave me a sense of control when it comes to managing a team, but I found myself hoping this guy or that guy had a great game, even if they were playing against my team that week. I was no longer following my team, but rather a bunch of individual players that I had at my disposal. (on a personal note: out of 5 guys, I placed last...my guys underperformed when I had them starting, when I switched things up, they suddenly did well...good thing I didnt havemoney riding on it!)
SO this year, I decided to opt out of any fantasy league. Given the poor performance of my team over the last few years (more like 9 years), and the fact that they are on the west coast and I am located in the midwest, I don't see them on tv as much, so I have to follow the team through the box scores in the paper, or highlights on tv. But I have found myself following them a little better this year, despite all that, and the fact that with my current job, it intereferes with my sleep time on the weekends. GRRRRR.
I can only hope that they will again become a cohesive team that can rise out of the proverbial ashes and ascend to greatness once again. Then maybe they'll get more tv play, and then I can justify losing a little sleep to see them play.
Anyways, I'm all over the place with this post, so I'll continue with this directionless rant with a couple more things. Given the differences in the two levels, I have come to prefer the more pure sport of football at the college level over the money grubbers in the pros. A certain local state favorite in college play, the Iowa Hawkeyes, however are threatening to ruin that as well. The advent of the new BigTen Network which now shows there games, and has caused me to not see them on NETWORK TV has pissed me off as well. Why should I pay $40 or whatever it is to get cable, just to watch one channel during football season?
Football used to be a sport, but as with everything else, it is becoming more business than anything. And to me, that is the biggest ruination of the game. But, I shall forever remain a football fan, and shall continue to love my 49ers, even if they suck for the rest of eternity.
My view of football has changed in little ways over the years, but fundamentally the game remains my favorite overall. When I was young, for the most part your team remained the same, minus the retiring players, plus the incoming rookies. Free Agency was a newer concept. Now instead of playing for your team and your teammates, it seems that many play for the amount of dollar bills they can get. Sure, some want to, and will remain with their team regardless of other offers, and will retire from the game with the same team that drafted them, wihtout ever being traded off. I have even heard of some players voluntarily taking pay cuts to remain with their team, and/or to allow another player to come into the organization, all to satisfy this salary cap imposed on teams (which I have no problem with). But many these days will haggle over the difference of a couple million dollars over a couple years. Player A wants a contract that gives him $11million over 4 years. The Owner says "we'll give you $8million over 5 years." And somehow, this can be a bone of contention that causes the player to stay away from training camp, preseason practices and all that is involved.
Maybe I'm missing some bigger picture here, but it's $3million dollars difference. Personally, once I've hit the $5million dollar mark in life, I'd be pretty friggin happy for life. Yeah, I know what some of you are saying..."The contracts aren't guaranteed, if he gets hurt he loses out on the rest", or "$3million is a LOT of money."
And you'd be right on both counts. But while your career may be shorter, and you may take a lot of abuse over that time, any player that plays 5 years in general has made way more than your average person will in 40 years. I even understand that Player A saw that Player B for some other team, who isn't even as good as him, got a LOT more money, and he thinks he deserves as much. Whatever happened to the love of the game? I think the league minimum for a drafted rookie is in the $300,000+ range. Hell, I'd play an entire career on that salary if I were blessed with enough size and talent to play at such a level, but that's just me. I just like to play, compete and win. Because in the end, to me, winning is the whole point. Getting to gloat afterwards is of course part of the prize, which I am guilty of to many faults. (ask my wife, sister, pretty much anyone who has ever competed against me in anything)
These days, however, your team looks different, save a few key players, every single year. Your guy switches teams, now what do you do? Root for your favorite player or your favorite team?
And it comes from all sides, to be honest, when it comes to being a loyal fan to your team. The owners jack up ticket prices, vending prices, and everything else, making it harder to go see your team play, if your in or near one of the market cities. You have whiny millionaires who demand being traded, or made their bonuses and quit putting forth an absolute 100% effort every play of every game. And now, the next thing that has hit the big time, that puts fans themselves at fault:
FANTASY FOOTBALL!
You have people now who participate in these leagues (sometimes multiple simultaneously) religiously. I played last year, and it created some disconnect from following my team specifically. Yes, it gave me a sense of control when it comes to managing a team, but I found myself hoping this guy or that guy had a great game, even if they were playing against my team that week. I was no longer following my team, but rather a bunch of individual players that I had at my disposal. (on a personal note: out of 5 guys, I placed last...my guys underperformed when I had them starting, when I switched things up, they suddenly did well...good thing I didnt havemoney riding on it!)
SO this year, I decided to opt out of any fantasy league. Given the poor performance of my team over the last few years (more like 9 years), and the fact that they are on the west coast and I am located in the midwest, I don't see them on tv as much, so I have to follow the team through the box scores in the paper, or highlights on tv. But I have found myself following them a little better this year, despite all that, and the fact that with my current job, it intereferes with my sleep time on the weekends. GRRRRR.
I can only hope that they will again become a cohesive team that can rise out of the proverbial ashes and ascend to greatness once again. Then maybe they'll get more tv play, and then I can justify losing a little sleep to see them play.
Anyways, I'm all over the place with this post, so I'll continue with this directionless rant with a couple more things. Given the differences in the two levels, I have come to prefer the more pure sport of football at the college level over the money grubbers in the pros. A certain local state favorite in college play, the Iowa Hawkeyes, however are threatening to ruin that as well. The advent of the new BigTen Network which now shows there games, and has caused me to not see them on NETWORK TV has pissed me off as well. Why should I pay $40 or whatever it is to get cable, just to watch one channel during football season?
Football used to be a sport, but as with everything else, it is becoming more business than anything. And to me, that is the biggest ruination of the game. But, I shall forever remain a football fan, and shall continue to love my 49ers, even if they suck for the rest of eternity.
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