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Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Vick can’t outrun expectations
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
Two things rush through your mind whenever Michael Vick sprints toward glory after he drops into the pocket and then slips, ducks and twists away from a couple of big guys trying to knock his head off. The first thing is, those big guys really might knock his head off. The second thing is, haven’t we seen this before from a magician disguised as a quarterback?
These Vick moments are becoming wonderfully monotonous for the Falcons, but they are leading to an unfair question from the upper deck of our microwave society: What’s next?
Come on, Michael, do something even wilder. We’ve already seen you outrun the entire defense of the Minnesota Vikings in overtime for 30, 40, nearly 50 yards. We’ve already seen you tumble head over heels in pursuit of a pylon. We’ve already seen you blow through a bunch of Carolina Panthers to score in the clutch. We’ve already seen you destroy the New York Jets with your legs last Monday night with a couple of impressive touchdown runs.
So, Michael, can you truly make our hearts leap from our chests by doing a triple flip while touching the roof of the Georgia Dome with your Nike Zoom III’s along the way to avoiding a sack?
In other words, Vick is resembling Dominique Wilkins by becoming too spectacular for his own good. We’re spoiled, folks, and it began with Wilkins, when he was somewhere near the zenith of his role as the Human Highlight Film. He’d do the unthinkable, but polite applause would replace hearty roars.
Been there, seen that.
Such was the thought of those who had spent forever watching Wilkins function as the Hawks’ prolific leaper of the 1980s and early 1990s. Not only that, the thought was something like, OK, when is ‘Nique really going to thrill us again by jumping high enough to do a quadruple flip while smacking the roof of the arena with his sneakers and descending into a slam?
Actually, we had Herschel moments before those of Dominique. It’s just that Walker didn’t stay at the University of Georgia long enough to reach Wilkins territory. If Walker had, he would have made folks get so antsy for the unrealistic that they would have expected their miracle runner to go from blasting Bill Bates to reaching somebody’s end zone by dragging 11 defenders on his back on a dash from midfield.
Let’s face it. We’re definitely spoiled. We get it regarding our ridiculously high expectations, but we really don’t get it. That’s because we’ve spent the last quarter of a century around Atlanta witnessing a rare sampling of mortals performing a slew of immortal feats, and we’ve done so on a consistent basis. Which is the problem. Which also brings us back to our current version of Herschel and Dominique: No. 7. You can blame this on the inability of those watching Vick’s dramatics to understand the magnitude of it all. In fact, we are becoming immune to it all, but only in the short run.
As for the long run, we’ll look back at Vick’s collective zips and zaps when he encounters a defender, and we’ll release a mighty, “Wow.” You know, just as we did for Dominique and Herschel, and just as we’ll do for Andruw.
That’s Andruw, as in Andruw Jones, the Braves center fielder with the magic glove. He is another who has turned the incredible into the routine. Over and over again, the scenario has gone something like this during Braves games for the past nine years: You see a shot drilled toward the gap in either left-center or right-center field. You see Jones reacting faster than a millisecond. You try to stifle a yawn as he dives to make the catch just above the tip of the grass.
Jones will vary his dance with the magnificent on occasion. One moment, he’ll climb a wall for an out. The next, he’ll make an impossible throw. It doesn’t much matter to those who always want more. Until Jones proves he can rise high enough to, oh, say, do a quintuple flip by smacking the sky with his cleats before making a sliding catch, we won’t be overwhelmed by much of anything else that he does.
Then again, such a thought is overwhelming enough.
Permalink | Comments (105) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Terence Moore
Braves stocked with pitching coaches
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH: No reflection on the departing (sob) Leo Mazzone, but there must be some pretty good pitching coaching going on in the farm system before these fuzzy-cheeked pitchers move right in with the Braves, and perform like veterans. Mike Alvarez at Richmond, Kent Willis at Mississippi, Bruce Dal Canton, seven seasons at Myrtle Beach, and Jim Czajkowski at Rome are the parties in mind… . Did you realize that George Bush ran the Texas Rangers when Sammy Sosa and Jose Canseco, two sluggers under steroid suspicion, passed through?… . And whatever became of “Bye-Bye” Balboni?
— Michael Young has found the way to become the unknown soldier of baseball. Who’s Michael Young? He’s the Texas Rangers shortstop who led the American League in hitting. Not Rodriguez, nor Jeter, nor Ramirez, but Michael Young, who comes to work daily toting his lunchpail.
— It must be said, that I have never seen worse umpiring in the major leagues than in this postseason, in both leagues. Aren’t these guys supposed to be the cream of the crop? If so, the cream has soured. (And as a puzzled reminder, after Don Denkinger blew the call that eventually cost the Cardinals in the 1985 World Series against Kansas City, he still spent 13 more seasons in the major leagues.) Let’s hear it for mediocrity.
— Come Nov. 11, the Montreal Canadiens will retire Boom Boom Geoffrion’s sweater and No. ll with a big blowout in The Forum. And though this is somewhat belated, the tireless scout Marty Blake was awarded the 2005 Bunn Lifetime Achievement in a Basketball Hall of Fame ceremony.
— Hey, wonder how the “Ragin’ Cajuns” of Lousiana-Lafayette failed to come under the fire of the holier-than-thou NCAA and its campaign to clean up all its members’ nicknames. First place, it wouldn’t dare stir up those Cajuns, and in the second place, they rage on and are happy for everybody to know it.
— Don’t know if you remember a Falcons linebacker named Lyman White — I didn’t. The former LSU Tiger has been sentenced to more than two years in prison for theft of $1.3 million from a Medicaid fund in Louisiana. Played here in 1981-82.
— While there was nothing official about Tiger Woods’ cut-less “streak,” those who dote on such records have conveniently sloughed off his defeats in the World Match Play Championships, by Peter O’Malley, Kevin Sutherland, and this year by Nick O’Hern. Both the Aussies O’Malley and O’Hern took him out in the first round.
— Cincinnati writer Bucky Albers, on the Torrance and Devlin golf courses at St. Andrews Bay: “Both should mature into modern classic Scottish links,” which should please developer Don Panoz.
— Russell Baze rarely takes his tack east of the Mississippi, but the California jockey this year became only the second in history to ride 9,000-plus winners, most of them on the West Coast. Lafitte Pincay Jr. is the other.
— There are more Cabreras and Matsuis in major league baseball than Smiths.
— Broadcaster David Feherty, on why he switched from playing golf to talking about it: “If you’re a lunatic, golf can be a good thing to do.”
— Arnold Palmer on Jack Nicklaus and retirement: “Jack did leave the door open. He’s allowing himself a little room, if he decides to play again. It’s just a matter of priorities.”
— Name of the Week: Hope Edge, how fitting for a coach, which she is, of the women’s golf team at Wake Forest.
— Now they’re getting somewhere. The National Football Foundation has created an academic Heisman, to be named the Draddy Trophy, and will make the first award this season.
—You wonder what befell the Yankees this season? Well, one day I noticed a pitching line that includes the names Wang, Quantrill and Groom. Where’d Brian Cashman come up with these guys, out of the Yellow Pages?
— Now if the Georgia Dome is recognized in some quarters as the prize among indoor facilities in the NFL, just where does Arthur Blank aim to direct his $150-million in “enhancements?”
Permalink | Comments (9) | Categories: Furman Bisher, Other
Alas, nobody cares about the White Sox
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
If a tree falls in the woods, and if nobody is there to hear it …
You know the rest. That saying is about the 2005 Chicago White Sox. Well, not really, but stay with me a moment.
As a native Midwesterner who once lived in Chicago, I can tell you something else that you already know: The Cubs are that city’s baseball team of choice. The White Sox are just a necessary nuisance for those who aren’t from the South Side.
Nobody cared about the White Sox when they embarrassed themselves with that exploding scoreboard. Nobody cared about the White Sox when they had that infamous Disco Night. Nobody cared about the White Sox when, among their slew of ridiculous uniform changes, they switched to short pants. Nobody cared about the White Sox when Harry Caray was their silly announcer (you know, before he became the Cubs’ sainted announcer). Nobody cared about the White Sox when they did the bizarre by going with an artificial surface in the infield and natural grass in the outfield.
So here’s the question: Since the White Sox are about to snatch a World Series title for the first time since World War I, and since nobody even in Chicago (well, outside of that South Side) is going to care beyond a yawn, does that mean the 2004 Boston Red Sox are still world champions?
Just wondering.
Permalink | Comments (25) | Categories: Quick Hit, Terence Moore
Roof fell in on Atlanta, not Chicago
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Houston - This just in: The Braves were cheated.
Cheated by a roof that wasn’t retracted when it should have been.
The World Series reconvened here Tuesday and, this being baseball, it conjured up a tempest. The Astros wanted the roof closed at Minute Maid Park because they believe a closed roof amplifies the noise and discombobulates the visiting team. Major League Baseball stepped in and ordered it opened. The Astros weren’t pleased, and the Braves surely won’t be, either.
The question arose: Why should the roof have been open for this Game 3 when it was closed for the first five playoff games staged at Minute Maid this month? Said Jimmie Lee Solomon, MLB’s vice president of operations: “Because the temperature was over 80 degrees in the Division Series and Championship Series. The only time it wasn’t was the first game of the Division Series, when it was in the high 70’s, and the team had [the roof] closed and we reacted too late.”
That would have been Game 3 against the Braves, which the Astros won routinely. Too bad it wasn’t the epic 18-inning Game 4, which was decided by three dinky Houston home runs that, at least theoretically, might have traveled further in a hothouse than in the open air. Then the Braves could have filed a protest and, given the arbitrary way decisions have gone this October, they might still be playing.
But leave it to Major League Baseball to have created an unequal playing field, if only for a game, in its postseason tournament. And then, with the World Series about to be played in Texas for the first time ever, to have created a tangential talking point. “From now until you actually play the game, this is the story,” said Tal Smith, this Astros’ president.
Flouting the open roof and their two-game deficit, the Astros stormed to a 4-0 lead Tuesday. (The fourth run came on another of those goofy above-the-yellow-line homers, this by Jason Lane.) Then the White Sox stung Roy Oswalt, who had yielded only five runs in his first 25 1/3 postseason innings, with five in the fifth, and suddenly Houstonians were praying for a closed roof or a passing downpour or something equally providential.
Chicago’s rally began with a home run by Joe Crede, who has turned into Brooks Robinson this October, and was finished by A.J. Pierzynski, who has become the Zelig of baseball. Wherever there’s a key moment, Pierzynski is standing there grinning. This time he doubled over the head of center fielder Willy Taveras to score two runs, and now the Astros were not only miffed at MLB but also at the Pale Hose, who seem never to stay dead.
There the game lingered, the Sox ahead by a skinny run that looked fatter with every Astro out. Houston had managed seven hits in the first four innings; it didn’t muster another until Lane doubled down the left-field line to tie the game with two out in the eighth. By then both managers were changing pitchers with almost every batter, Ozzie Guillen needing three to get through the eighth, Phil Garner deploying three in the ninth.
The Astros should have ended it in the ninth. Chris Burke, whose home run into the Crawford Boxes sent the Braves packing, drew a walk from Orlando (El Duque) Hernandez. Burke took second on a wild pickoff and then had the unmitigated gall to steal third. A fly ball would have done for Houston what Scott Podsednik’s walkoff homer for the White Sox in Game 2, but Taveras struck out. With Houston needing a hit now, Hernandez walked Lance Berkman to load the bases and then whiffed Morgan Ensberg to send the game to extras.
And there it crept along, serving up yet another blow to Major League Baseball. The longest game in World Series history ended at 1:20 a.m. Central Daylight Time; ended after five hours and 41 minutes of not-very-stimulating baseball; ended after Chicago’s Geoff Blum, inserted to play second base on a double switch in the bottom of the 13th, hit a homer off Ezequiel Astacio with two out in the 14th; ended when Mark Buehrle, who started Game 2 for the Sox, retired Adam Everett to put this one mercifully to bed.
The Astros began the night fretting about the roof. Much later, they ended it down 3-nil in a World Series that could end before midnight Wednesday. They ended it having managed one hit in the last 10 innings, having been undone by Blum, once an Astro himself. In the entire history of sports, a team might have had a worse night. Then again, it might not.
Permalink | Comments (61) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Mark Bradley
