AJC > Sports > Columnists > Archives > 2007 > July
July 2007
Bittersweet decision to trade ‘Salty’ away
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
Hilton Head Island, S.C. — News is a bit slow arriving at this destination of relaxation, and when it hit this time, it was like a sock in the chops. Not unexpected, oh, no. But just another one of those you hoped would never come off. Not that Mark Teixeira’s not a nice quality to insert in the Braves lineup, but once more the cost was excessive in the eyes of this old salt.
For all these seasons in the farm system, Jarrod Saltalamacchia had been nurtured and primed for his place on the home team. Hottest catching prospect in the minors, so I’ve read. It happened earlier than expected this season and not in a way fair to his future. There was no room at catcher, and first base was not his natural position, but he came, he answered the call at both positions and you expected to see that alphabetical spread across the back of a Braves uniform for time to come.
He goes, Teixeira comes, and in the minds of Braves biographers, it is no less than a repetition of the deal that brought Fred McGriff to the team and a string of successful seasons followed. That was in 1993, but McGriff was just a temporary cog in the machine. No doubt about Teixeira’s numbers. He brings clout to the offense. He’s also a familiar face, a third baseman at Georgia Tech, converted to first baseman by the Rangers, who haven’t been blazing any trails.
What bothers me is this, the many times the Braves have forfeited a bright future for the immediacy. Check out some of these: Jermaine Dye went to Kansas City for Michael Tucker and Keith Lockhart, and has been an American League All-Star with the White Sox; Adam Wainwright went to the Cardinals for J.D. Drew, when the Braves knew Drew would be here only a year, and both Wainwright and Dye have been leading figures on the World Series stage; Jason Schmidt was traded for a short-time left-hander; Kevin Millwood was traded for Johnny Estrada, who was traded for Oscar Villarreal — in other words, Millwood for Villarreal; Mark DeRosa was left to roam and now is a key Cub in Chicago; Adam LaRoche was traded for Mike Gonzalez, now a surgery victim, and final results won’t be in on that deal for a good while.
These are just a few, the key ones. Oh, I didn’t like the hasty riddance of Macay McBride, in exchange for another left-hander since discarded. It disturbs old crocks who have a feeling that living for today at the expense of forfeiting the future — forfeiting golden prospects incubated in the farm system with loving care for an immediate fix at some position, with the notion that there’s another one of those pennants to be mounted over the left-field bleachers — causes serious dyspepsia.
John Schuerholz has hit the jackpot with some of his slick trades, signings and raids on the free-agent market. Edgar Renteria, for one. He got lucky with Matt Diaz, Peter Moylan and Buddy Carlyle. He asks blessings upon his regional scouts who came up with Jeff Francoeur, Brian McCann and Chuck James. He startled us all when he signed McCann to a bullish contract before free agency was a threat. Rare is the GM who mines the ore of his home field so well.
He and Bobby Cox live and die by the bullpen. Bob Wickman has been erratic. The sight of Tyler Yates coming through the outfield gate is nerve-racking. Yes, Scott Thorman has fallen short, so short that 48-year-old, going on 49, Julio Franco was called on. Teixeira is supposed to heal that wound, and should, though he’ll be looking at a different grade of pitching in this league. And the new left-hander, Ron Mahay, a stranger to most of us, is supposed to be the missing link in the bullpen.
Nothing, though, is quite so agitating to the fan who has seen young Salty hauled in prematurely, still fill a double role well, then get shipped off to the wild, wild west at his tender age. I’m sorry, but that’s the inner voice of this old man speaking out.
Permalink | Comments (112) | Post your comment | Categories: Furman Bisher
To be in the presence of Cooperstown guys
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
Since the inductions on Sunday of Tony Gwynn and Cal Ripken Jr. into baseball’s Hall of Fame, I’ve been thinking about something. Bobby Cox and John Smoltz already have the bills of their caps in Cooperstown. Chipper Jones is in the vicinity. Plus, if Andruw Jones returns to the land of the living as a hitter, he is a fungo or three down the road.
Count them. That’s four Braves with a chance at bronzed immortality. Only the New York Yankees of Alex Rodriguez, Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera and Joe Torre can boast of such a thing.
Do folks realize that? Maybe, but probably not. The choppers and the chanters have taken those mostly responsible for the Braves’ consistent goodness through the years for granted. Then again, there are many in the Braves clubhouse who secretly pinch themselves when in the midst of Cox, Smoltz and the two Jones.
For instance: Nothing against Ron Washington or anything. It’s just that when Jarrod Saltalamacchia walks into the Texas Rangers’ clubhouse for the first time after his trade from the Braves, he won’t tingle the same way over his new manager as he did with his last one. There was Saltalamacchia’s first spring training in 2006, when he was startled by a friendly voice and a cheery face in the Braves clubhouse in Orlando.
“Hey, Salty. How are you?” shouted that voice, with that face causing Saltalamacchia’s eyes to grow. It was Cox, owner of 15 consecutive division titles at that point, along with five pennants and a world championship. Cox did all of that with veteran teams, young teams, healthy rosters, crippled rosters, superstars, marginal stars and no stars.
“So when he greeted me like that for the first time, wow, I didn’t know what to say,” said Saltalamacchia, grinning. “I was just speechless, you know?”
Chuck James knows. This is just his second season in the major leagues as a promising starter. Not only that, he is an Atlanta native, and he was signed by a Braves team that he idolized as a youth, and his locker is next to Chipper Jones. “I remember the first time I saw him,” said James, shaking his head, while recalling that time in 2004 when Jones briefly joined James’ minor league team in Rome to recover from an injury.
James laughed, saying, “I mean, everybody just sat there and watched him get dressed, because it was like, wow. That’s Chipper Jones. Now my locker is right beside him, so it’s just awesome.”
Added James, with another wide grin, “I also remember my first rookie ball in 2003, and John Smoltz came up to me and asked me if I had thrown already. The only thing that came out of my mouth was ‘Ah, ah, ah,’ something like that. We went out to throw, and it seemed like every movement he made, he would just lob the ball to me, and I felt like it was a good, crisp 95 mph. It was like, ‘This is John Smoltz.’ “
This is John Smoltz, the only pitcher ever with 200 victories and 150 saves. This also is Andruw Jones with 362 home runs at only 30 years old to complement his nine Gold Gloves, five trips to the All-Star game and average of 150 games played during each of his previous 10 seasons. This is Chipper Jones, too, with more home runs as a switch-hitter than anybody not named Mickey Mantle or Eddie Murray.
Can Chipper Jones sense the pounding hearts of teammates when they are in his presence? “If you portray yourself as untouchable, people might be afraid to talk you a little bit, but one thing that John [Smoltz] and I do as vocal leaders on the club is that we make it known from day one that we’re approachable,” Jones said. “Talk to us about anything, because chances are, we’ve been through it.”
Even going gaga in private over potential Hall of Famers? “Oh, man,” said Jones, pausing. He kept thinking before sounding even more like a Cooperstown guy, “I don’t think so.”
Permalink | Comments (14) | Post your comment | Categories: Braves / MLB, Terence Moore
Walsh was a true wizard
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
THE TUESDAY COUNTDOWN
10: Some coaches today think they’re innovators. They have no idea. Bill Walsh was so far ahead of the curve in every way, and I’m not talking about just the “West Coast” offense.
9: Walsh was the first to realize you didn’t have to beat up guys in practice. Drills were focused more on details than banging. He knew better than most when to cut a player (to the surprise of everyone, including the player) and when to bring one in, even if at the tail end of a career (Jack Reynolds). He spent more time than most on the start of the game (scripting the first 15 plays) and the end (two-minute offense). He excelled at knowing how to motivate players in ways other than yelling. And it follows, he excelled at mind games. Finally, many African-American coaches in the game today, including Marvin Lewis and Ty Willingham, can thank Walsh for starting a minority-coaching program in the 1980s.
8: On a personal note: I worked in the Bay Area and covered the 49ers. I can tell you that it often was an aggravating endeavor because Walsh made it so. (He also was ahead of the curve in mind games with the media.) But it was sort of a fun aggravation.
7: I once asked Walsh about signing Tom Cousineau for his strike-replacement team. Walsh said, “That’s not true.” I said, “Bill, his jersey is already hanging in a locker.” Walsh said, “We changed our mind.” Of course, the next day Cousineau was on the practice field. I once asked Walsh before a Super Bowl about his impending retirement. He said, “I haven’t decided yet.” I said, “Bill, I’ve got two sources who say you told them you’ve made the decision.” He said, “They were mistaken.” Of course, they weren’t, and he retired.
6: At the time, I considered Walsh a pain. Now I can say it was a privilege to cover him, to know him and to be misdirected by him.
5: So when was the last time we could say, “The Braves have the best lineup I in the National League”? And when is Free Lithium Night at Shea Stadium?
4: According to the “Summary of Facts” for Tony Taylor’s dog-fighting guilty plea, “At one point, the defendants obtained shirts and headbands representing and promoting their affiliation with ‘Bad Newz Kennels.’” The big problem with that is the shirts and headbands did not carry the Nike logo. Thus Vick lost his endorsement deal. I think.
3: Nice hard-hitting interview by V-103. Wonder if Michael Vick left the money on the nightstand when it was over.
2: Richard Lapchick released his “Racial and Gender Report Card” for the WNBA Tuesday. The report concluded that the league needs more men players.
1: Matt Schaub, more myth than reality right now, may or may not come back to haunt the Falcons. But it won’t be this season. One online sportsbook lists Houston as 100-1 to win the Super Bowl. The Falcons, with Joey Harrington, are 40-1.
Permalink | Comments (49) | Categories: Jeff Schultz, Quick Hit
Bill Walsh was the coach for the ages
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
Just last week, while I strolled in Palo Alto, Calif., between the Eucalyptus and palm trees that are as perfectly executed across the Stanford University campus as a play in the West Coast offense, I had that old thought. Maybe Jane and Bill are there. During the post-Walsh era with the San Francisco 49ers, you took it for granted that they’d always be there.
Then after I reached the Hoover Tower, I remembered something that I wanted to forget: They’ll never be there again at the Arrillaga Family Sports Center, where Jane and Bill landed in the Stanford football offices earlier in the decade after their 49ers days. While Jane Walsh (no relation) was the chatty and witty secretary, Bill Walsh was the charismatic and perceptive coach for the ages.
Yes, I remembered, while shaking my head. Walsh confessed last November that he quietly had spent the previous months undergoing treatment and blood transfusions for leukemia. Then I remembered my five years at the San Francisco Examiner during the early 1980s, when the Bill Walsh at the start of the greatest dynasty in sports history was nearly as engaging as the Bill Walsh down the stretch of his 75 years of life.
Those Bill Walshes smiled, joked and told inside stories. If those Bill Walshes weren’t using vivid detail to explain why the Falcons under former 49ers defensive coach Jim Mora and others weren’t running a true West Coast offense, those Bill Walshes were speaking in comical ways about some of their former players.
Nothing tickled Walsh more than recalling how he tried in vain to keep Thomas “Hollywood” Henderson sober and functioning. Nothing angered Walsh more than recalling his days in Cincinnati, where he first invented the West Coast offense for the Bengals of the early 1970s.
That’s when Ken Anderson was the original Joe Montana, and Isaac Curtis was the original Jerry Rice. So, with football’s most prolific offense in decades, Walsh assumed he was the successor to Hall of Famer Paul Brown, the Bengals’ founder, owner and head coach. It didn’t happen, which is why Walsh clenched his teeth when he told me that he was so hurt after he was passed over by Brown in 1975 that he rarely spoke to the man again.
Hurt turned to revenge. While winning 10 of 14 postseason games, including three world championships during his decade with the 49ers, Walsh defeated the Bengals in two Super Bowls. Through it all, he barely uttered Brown’s name.
Which brings us to the Bill Walsh at the height of joining Curly Lambeau, George Halas, Vince Lombardi, Pete Rozelle and Al Davis as the most significant forces in NFL history. That Bill Walsh was pleasantly arrogant and deceptively ruthless. He had a professorial image in public, but he scared the chinstraps off his players as the 49ers’ hidden combination of Bill Parcells and Bobby Knight.
Once, when Ronnie Lott yelled disparaging words at Walsh from across the practice field, the head coach shocked onlookers by rushing to jump in the face of his noted tough-guy safety. They had to be separated. Things calmed down for the rest of the practice, and in case you didn’t know, here is what often happens after such blowups between big-time coach and big-time player: They meet afterward, exchange grins and shrug away their spat.
This time, Walsh waited the next day to saunter across the room in front of the entire team to Lott’s locker. In a stern voice, the stone-faced head coach told the startled defensive back that if he ever did something like that again, he’d be shipped to the worst team in the league faster than a Roger Craig sprint off tackle.
Then Walsh left, with others in the room getting the message: If he’s doing that to Lott, then …
I remembered more Walsh stories as I reached Maples Pavilion, right next to the sports center. Then I turned around. Maybe I’ll see Jane and Bill next time, I thought, when Bill is better. But along came the news on Monday: Walsh had departed his earthly home in Woodside, Calif., to tell his stories Up There.
Permalink | Comments (7) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Terence Moore
Teixeira gives Braves better prospects at today
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
I never understood that whole “Annie” philosophy of some sports franchises. The sun will come out tomorrow? I’m sorry, but when was the last time a major league team issued a ticket refund for today because the tomorrows never quite panned out?
When was the last time salary cap space recorded a rebound, or a smoking minor-league prospect in Richmond softened the blow of a 7-2 loss and a $6 hot dog in the majors?
The Braves made a significant decision Monday. They traded tomorrows for todays. This is the way it’s suppose to work.
Jarrod Saltalamacchia might have star stamped on his forehead. Nobody really knows. But with Mark Teixeira, we don’t have to guess. He’s already there. There’s a reason nurseries sell a lot more plants than seeds.
Watch Saltalamacchia develop tomorrow. Watch the Braves develop today. They may have just won a division.
This is what you should want. It’s certainly what the Braves wanted. It’s absolutely what Teixeira wanted. We know this because he was here in January looking at property. He is from Baltimore but played at Georgia Tech, and Atlanta apparently never got out of his system.
Georgia Tech coach Danny Hall said Teixeira was in town seven months ago for a baseball team banquet, during which Teixeira’s jersey number was honored. “He told me then that he was looking at property,” Hall said. “He said he wanted to live here.”
Hall said he began to hear rumors a month ago of Teixeira possibly coming to the Braves, so he phoned his former player. “He said, ‘Coach, I would love to come play for the Braves. I just want to play for a team where I have a chance to win every game,’ ” Hall recalled.
Don’t think about what happens after this season, when Teixeira can file for arbitration. Don’t think about what happens after 2008, when somebody may pull the chute on the franchise (Dooms Day scenario: Teixeira leaves in free agency, neither Chipper nor Edgar Renteria have options exercised, Andruw Jones is long gone, Bobby Cox and John Schuerholz retire.)
Think about now. The Braves haven’t had a lineup like this at least since Gary Sheffield and Javy Lopez were wrapped around Chipper and Andruw. First base has been a black hole since 2001. The Braves have had six starting first baseman in the last seven opening day lineups (Adam LaRoche being the only repeat offender).
Scott Thorman hasn’t quite worked out. He’s hitting .220. He’s a prospect.
Saltalamacchia wasn’t going to bump Brian McCann from the lineup. The Braves hoped he could transition from catcher to first base. That experiment worked out so well that they’ve been playing Julio Franco, the 48-year-old they fished out of the Hudson River.
Suddenly, first base is not manned by a prospect. Or a Plan B. Or a relic.
Teixeira has 153 home runs and 499 RBIs in less than five seasons. He’s a switch-hitter. He has two Gold Gloves. He’s one of only five players in history to hit at least 100 homers in his first three seasons. He’s no prospect.
As part of the trade, Schuerholz also acquired Ron Mahay, a left-handed reliever who is 2-0 with a 2.77 earned run average in 28 appearances this season. Schuerholz didn’t merely fill needs — he stole the trade deadline.
Don’t look at this as, “Sure, but we’re toast in 2008 and Schuerholz won’t care because he’ll be gone.” You would be missing the point. Franchises can’t get away with dealing top young talent every year, but this was the right time for the Braves. Andruw Jones likely isn’t affordable after this season. There have been health issues with Chipper Jones and John Smoltz. The window is closing on this bunch.
The Braves can only hope Teixeira does for them what he did for Tech. Projected as a first-rounder coming out of high school in 1998, he lasted until the ninth round because of high salary demands. His decision to go to Tech was an easy one.
“He became the best recruiter I ever had that summer,” Hall said, laughing. “He called me after the draft and said, ‘I’m definitely coming to school. Give me the phone numbers of the other guys you signed so I can make sure they come, too.’ “
Teixeira won’t have to recruit here. If he stays and wins today, tomorrow won’t be an issue.
Permalink | Comments (124) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Jeff Schultz
Salty-for-Tex simply common sense
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
I like Salty. You like Salty. We all like Salty. But sometimes common sense trumps infatuation. If Jarrod Saltalamacchia can be packaged in such a way as to make Mark Teixeira a Brave, Salty needs to go.
This organization has been trying to subsist on kids and retreads. The result has been a clear decline: The team that won at least 90 games 13 times over 14 full seasons is 133-134 since Opening Day 2006.
Over the past fortnight we’ve seen the Braves’ cheapjack method carried to its silliest extreme. Julio Franco, who couldn’t get an at-bat for the first-place Mets, has become the starting first baseman here. It’s safe to say no other big-league team, not even a lousy one, would have been reduced to such a thing.
The Braves are not lousy. Neither are they very good. They have the 15th-highest payroll among 30 major-league teams; as of Sunday morning, they had the 14th-best record. They’re about where they should be. They need to aim higher.
Saltalamacchia should become a really good player at some position, but as a Brave he’ll be forced to learn a new position to be a regular. (Brian McCann is and will remain the No. 1 catcher.) And, as promising as he has looked, Salty hasn’t dazzled to the extent that he’s starting ahead of Franco, who’s at least 26 years older. That tells us something. That tells us the Braves have seen — or, more to the point, haven’t seen — something in Salty.
Say what you will about John Schuerholz, but he’s sagacious regarding young talent. How many prospects have the Braves jettisoned that they’d want back? Answer: Jason Schmidt (dealt for Denny Neagle in August 1996) and Adam Wainwright (included in the J.D. Drew deal of December 2003). Where’s Andy Marte? Whatever became of Luis Rivera? And, for all the outcry raised in this space and others over the loss of Wilson Betemit, has the absence of a .232 hitter proved debilitating?
Braves president Terry McGuirk admits the club has in recent years made the considered decision to err on the homegrown side. “Our payroll was going up like a rocket ship, and the fans stopped coming,” McGuirk said in May. “That seemed a major statement as to what this franchise should be about.”
So the Braves stopped pursuing the Gary Sheffields and A-Rods and banked instead on the Jeff Francoeurs and the B-Macs. That approach has merits, and also its limits. This has become a .500 team, give or take, and the emphasis on cuddly youth hasn’t triggered a run on the box office. (Home attendance ranks 14th in the majors.) While the Braves are proof you don’t need an All-Star at every position to be competitive, they’re likewise proving you can’t win big without big-time players.
Teixeira is one of those. He’s the first baseman the Braves have lacked since Andres Galarraga got cancer. Yes, Teixeira will file for arbitration this winter and for free agency in 2008, and yes, he’s represented by the demon Scott Boras, but at worst he’d give the Braves a middle-of-the-order thumper once Andruw Jones takes his Boras-negotiated leave. And without Andruw eating up one-sixth of the payroll the Braves might actually have a chance to keep Teixeira.
Another hitter won’t necessarily make the 2007 Braves a playoff team. This team needs a starting pitcher more. But Salty-for-Tex wouldn’t be so much a fix-it for this season as a signal that the Braves have conceded they’ve gone as far as they can with the status quo. If they honestly expect first-place results, they’ll have to find first-rate players. Their farm system has produced its share, but no system can be so bountiful as to generate a star at every position.
The Braves might well have gotten twice lucky at catcher. It’s time to use one of those to secure a first baseman, and not a Rico Brogna or a Robert Fick or a Scott Thorman this time. Something more along the lines of a Fred McGriff. Someone like Teixeira.
Permalink | Comments (163) | Categories: Mark Bradley
Falcons are Vick’s team, good or bad
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
Flowery Branch —
According to owner Arthur Blank, whose team is in the midst of a barking storm created by You Know Who and illegal dogfighting, the Falcons aren’t about one player. Head coach Bobby Petrino echoes his boss. The same goes for players throughout the roster.
Said offensive tackle Wayne Gandy, analyzing the situation with his 14 seasons of NFL wisdom on Saturday after practice at the Falcons training camp, “Eventually, [the media] is going to have to report on somebody else on this team. We have Warrick Dunn and Keith Brooking and Lawyer [Milloy] and Alge [Crumpler] and Todd McClure. Plus, whenever you hear something or read something now, it’s always just ‘Michael Vick.’ It almost has stopped being ‘The Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick.’ “
Yeah, well.
Sounds good.
How else can you respond when your team, your franchise and your whole essence in the minds of everybody else really is about one player?
There was 2003, for instance, when the Falcons did something they hadn’t done in 22 years. They sold every ticket for all of their home games before a season began. Soon afterward, Michael Vick — as in the starting quarterback, Mr. Electric, You Know Who and that one player who has spent his six NFL seasons as absolutely everything for the Falcons — broke his leg during that preseason. Just like that, courtesy of an epidemic of empty green seats at the Georgia Dome, the Falcons challenged the league record for no-shows.
Translated: Vick IS the Falcons. That’s for good and for bad. Among other things involving the bad these days, Vick just was indicted in a highly explosive federal case involving the strangulation, drowning, electrocution, hanging and beating of losers in dogfights held on his Virginia property. So, since all of this is threatening to have Vick’s image kicked, sacked and punted for just shy of forever, that means the image of the Falcons also is headed for ugliness from now into the unforeseeable future.
With apologies to Blank and the rest, Vick has helped turn the Falcons into a PR mess, because everybody associated with this organization is joined to the hip of Vick’s controversies. We’re talking about all of them, and there have been many, but none worse than this one that could make Norman Bates cringe.
As a result, with animal-rights groups and U.S. congressmen still howling their disgust across the country, Reebok did the unprecedented by announcing it is halting the sale of jerseys bearing Vick’s name. The Reebok folks didn’t do such a thing regarding Ray Lewis, the Baltimore Ravens linebacker who was cleared but nevertheless associated with a double-murder case. Or regarding Pacman Jones with his various arrests, near arrests and pending arrests. Or regarding any Bengals player in Cincinnati, where a felony is always waiting to happen.
Just regarding Vick, the same player who also had Nike stop selling any of his products. Others also have joined the anti-Vick moment, including the Falcons organization in a subtle way.
You almost needed a magnifying glass to find Vick stuff inside the large tent that serves as the Falcons merchandise store at their training camp. It’s called “Falcons 365,” and you’ll find two prominent pictures on an inside wall of Brooking and Dunn. There are pennants featuring DeAngelo Hall, and more than a few jerseys with the names and numbers of Jerious Norwood, D.J. Shockley, Jamaal Anderson, Joe Horn and nearly anybody else who isn’t You Know Who.
Well, there is that obscure section of the tent that has enough Vick jerseys to fill about a fifth of a rack. Said Gandy, shaking his head, “When I started in 1994, people used to kind of celebrate bad boys. Not that Vick is a bad boy. It’s just that it used to kind of be the thing to be the tough, hard-nosed leader who might curse the cab driver out or something like that. Now they want to outcast the bad-boy image.”
The bad-boy image can become the bad-team image.
See the Falcons.
Permalink | | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Terence Moore
USGA chief born for the job
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
Betty Driver can hardly wait for Feb. 9 to get here, when the clock strikes the evening hour of seven. No, it’s not an anniversary, or somebody’s wedding date. It’s the moment she gets her husband back, out of the trenches of the USGA, which stands for the United States Golf Association. Golf, “the gentleman’s game” that evolved into something more ballistic during Walter Driver’s tour of duty in the presidency. Being president of the USGA is the trophy at the end of the well-ordered ascendency of a faithful servant, from board director to general counsel to vice-president in the case of Walter Driver Jr. It’s officiated by the well-bred whose names oftimes begin with an initial, or are concluded with a Jr. or II or III. As in C. Grant Spaeth or James D. Standish Jr. Walter W. Driver Jr. was the perfect fit — especially with his awesome name. On top of that, he was an accomplished player, scratch at the time of induction, and an alumnus of Stanford University, the pipeline which gave us such celebrated golf personages as Lawson Little, Tom Watson, Tiger Woods and Sandy Tatum. It appeared earlier in life that Driver was destined to make his mark with a racquet, not a club. Then he broke his arm and while mending followed the course of so many that led to golf: He took to reading Ben Hogan’s “Five Fundamentals.” His father, a real estate broker in El Paso, deposited him at Stanford, and there he made the golf team. Playing professionally never beckoned. “I saw fellows getting beat who had beaten me, so I turned to law,” and thus to law school at Texas. Arriving in Atlanta, he became a member of the distinguished firm of King & Spalding, but just two years ago switched interests to the investment firm of Goldman Sachs, Southeast manager no less. Twice he won the club championship at Peachtree, the shrine to golf that Bobby Jones inspired. Once he became involved in the USGA it was inevitable that he should eventually rise to the presidency, succeeding as he did a former U.S. Amateur champion, Fred Ridley. He got a forewarning of the storm ahead when at the Open at Shinnecock Hills in 2004 he served as chairman of the competition committee and took the blame for high winds, fractious weather and a course as slick as an interstate. Truth is, he merely represented the membership; two hired staff employees, now departed, were responsible for the condition of the course, Tom Meeks and Tom Moraghan. Driver was a susceptible target, tall, well-constructed and rather handsome in a rustic sort of way. Media were looking for a scapegoat and laid it on him, laced with an overdose of resentment. They haven’t laid off yet, through his two-year presidency. At Oakmont this year, he was unable to arouse a chord of harmony. Bob Verdi, a good man and old friend, wrote of him in Golf World, the “president who can strut even while standing still.” Oakmont members take pride in the cussed toughness of their course, and in the end most every pro joined in. There was still a chorus of writers looking under rugs for reasons to indict the USGA on an unspecified charge, and Walter Driver. In the end, though, Oakmont drew a harmonious response from the competitors, sort of an unofficial gift to the outgoing president. He still has his favorite championship left, the Walker Cup, to be played in Northern Ireland. “That’s a championship I can get teary about,” he said. There have been internal matters that rattled the furniture at the USGA headquarters in Far Hills, N.J. Driver has seen fit to whittle on some of the staff benefits and came to cross swords with Marty Parkes, the senior director of communications. There has been crossfire about equipment standards, whose terminology is like trying to translate something off a cave wall to me. Then there was the matter of travel by private jet, which, as it turned out, was a practice Fred Ridley left behind. On another matter, Driver’s game has suffered. His handicap is now a plus-two. Meanwhile, back at the homestead, Betty Driver counts the days. It’s sort of like the time when the kids, now grown and out, waited to get a glimpse of dad. “Work, work, work,” they would say, “golf, golf, golf, that’s all daddy does.” Reg Murphy, now a resident of Sea Island, preceded Driver in the office 12 years ago. “There are times when you need a steward and there are times when you need to change,” he told Golf World. “Walter is a change agent.” Wonder if they really understand what he’s saying in the media center, or if they’re still wondering “if the USGA can survive Walter Driver?” as Golf World headlined its report.
Permalink | | Categories: Furman Bisher
Dogs flying under the radar
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
Hoover, Ala. — Mark Richt had no problem making it to SEC media days Friday, except for the fact it was sort of like trailing the parade with a broom. You follow Steve Spurrier, Urban Meyer, Nick Saban — accompanied by clowns, elephants and a blur of Stepford boosters — it’s easy to blend into the scenery.
Sort of like the Georgia program right now.
“We’re definitely under the radar,” Richt said. “Whether we rise or not is the big question.”
He spoke with no hint of stress. He smiled and gave long answers, not preconditioned, processed, get-me-outta-here responses. After six seasons in the SEC, a coach either learns to deal with it or folds.
And there were times last season, you wondered with Richt. After five mostly blessed seasons, the Bulldogs smacked into the Netherworld. They lost four of five after a 5-0 start. They lost to Kentucky. And Vanderbilt. And allowed 51 points at home against Tennessee. Richt never put his fist through a wall, at least not that we know of. But the stress was visible.
“There’s a difference between pressure and stress,” he said. “There’s pressure in this job. There’s pressure when you lose four out of five. Stress is when you begin to react to it physiologically. I mean, I was getting close to — I don’t know if it was the breaking point, but I was feeling it.”
In the end, Georgia finished strong, with wins over Auburn, Georgia Tech and Virginia Tech. “It might’ve been the most gratifying year for me,” Richt said.
But he knew something had to change. He handed play-calling duties over to Mike Bobo, but it might’ve had less to do with questionable play-calling than what work was doing to Richt. Hours melted into days, days melted into weeks — and weeks were melting down the head coach. Pressure had turned to stress. Personal time with kids Richt had recruited was non-existent. It wasn’t as much fun.
These are things a head coach with perspective thinks about. These are things that are hammered home the day after a basketball coach, seemingly in great health, drops dead of an apparent heart attack in North Carolina, moments after taking a jog.
“Some of us [coaches] are like a lot of people in life. It’s like, ‘Whatever happened to him is not going to happen to me,’ ” Richt said, alluding to the sudden death of Wake Forest basketball coach Skip Prosser. “But the job will take a toll on you. You have to learn to manage it. Some guys can do it all. And I’ve been doing it all, not that I’ve been doing it great. But I’ve been trying to do everything.”
Relinquishing play-calling duties, he said, “is going to be very beneficial to me, my health and the health of this program.
“If you’re game-planning and calling the game, you’re busy. Very busy. Then if you add all of the head coaching responsibilities to it, you get into such a grind physically and mentally that it can wear you slap out. It was wearing on me.”
And now?
“I feel more revived and more fresh right now than I have ever felt going into a season since I’ve been at Georgia,” he said. “If you’re a coordinator only, there is a true offseason for you. As a head coach there’s not much of an off-season. Not only are you grinding it in season, you’re grinding it out of season. There was no time to revive in between. This will help me. I imagine I’ll have a little more time to exercise and for myself mentally.”
It’s amazing the residue that one “off” season can leave. Richt won 13, 11, 10 and 10 games in four straight seasons, then dropped to 9-4 last year. Welcome to under the radar. Media polls here have the Dogs finishing third in the SEC East.
They received two of 80 first-place votes. The only schools that had fewer drew none — Kentucky, Vanderbilt and the dented bookends in Mississippi.
Eleven schools have players on the preseason all-SEC first team. One doesn’t: Georgia.
“Preseason all-SEC doesn’t mean much,” Richt said. “Postseason SEC means something.”
He didn’t seem to care that the parade seemed to have passed through town. In reality, he hasn’t started yet.
Permalink | Comments (41) | Categories: Jeff Schultz
Petrino a master at keeping focus
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Flowery Branch — Say this for the new man: He has the worst — or, depending on your slant, the best — case of tunnel vision in the annals of ophthalmology. With distractions to be found on every flank and even overhead, Bobby Petrino put his team through its first real practice without taking his eyes from the field.
There were dueling protesters outside the gates, the PETA chants of “Sack Vick now!” being answered by one man’s shout of, “When you gonna marry your dogs?” There were signs borne aloft, “From Role Model to Parole Model” being the most inspired. And there was even an aerial assault: A plane bearing the banner, “New Team Name? Dog-killers?!” circled the opening session of training camp for nearly an hour.
Being human, Petrino’s players noticed.
Being something else, Petrino did not.
“My son [also named Bobby] told me about it after practice,” Petrino said. And what did the younger Bobby Petrino think of this welcome-to-Atlanta moment?
“We’ve been through controversy before,” the elder Bobby Petrino said. “He kind of thinks it goes with the job.”
Later, Petrino would concede that nothing else in his vocational life — not even the infamous flirtation with Auburn in 2003 — approaches the ongoing saga of Michael Vick for sheer spectacle. But that’s the greater point, and it’s also the Falcons’ greatest hope going forward. The new man doesn’t get sidetracked. The new man coaches football. The new man takes whatever quarterback he has and plugs him into a matrix that works. And the franchise that has spent the past five seasons waiting for Vick to work his wonders looks now to the slight man in the ballcap to think of something.
Said Alge Crumpler, a Falcon since 2001: “Bobby’s a great mind. One of the reasons Bobby was brought in here was to function with distractions and injuries.”
Said Joe Horn, a seasoned import: “I believe in this [offensive] system.”
Said Joey Harrington, suddenly the No. 1 quarterback: “It’s the complete opposite of the West Coast offense.”
And there it was, the first reason for hope after an offseason of astonishing gloom. On a day when Vick was in a Richmond courtroom, the team he leaves behind got to work trying to put aside the misguided notions of the previous failed regime. The offense Petrino brings from Louisville was good enough to win when his two best offensive players — running back Michael Bush and quarterback Brian Brohm — were hurt last season. Petrino, see, doesn’t just coddle talent. He coaches football.
“I liked to stay focused on the football team,” Petrino said, and if he could manage that on such a frazzled day, who’s to say what else this man might do? Bleed eight wins out of Harrington? Make the Falcons look well-coached for the first time this century?
“Today went good,” Petrino said. “The circumstances being here were not the easiest. … But it was a great experience. It’ll probably never happen again.”
We can only hope. This camp and this season will be a test of the remaining Falcons’ capacity, as Warrick Dunn said, “to maintain their sanity.” On Thursday the new coach gave his new team a morning pep talk — about Handling Adversity, duh — and then set to teaching.
Said DeAngelo Hall: “It’s what we were all waiting for — the Bobby Petrino era.”
Certainly not everyone on hand here Thursday cared about, or even knew, the identity of the Falcons’ coach. (Even though Petrino’s surname and PETA share three prominent letters. Coincidence? Probably.) The protesters have their agenda, but Petrino has his.
He’s here to coach football, not to right the world’s wrongs. And that buzzing overhead? Bobby Petrino doesn’t even hear it.
“When commenting is opened, comments that don’t violate ajc.com’s Visitor Agreement will be posted.”
Permalink | Comments (53) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Mark Bradley
Vick can’t even speak for himself
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
Richmond — In spite of the multiple chances to get it right through the days, months and years, ranging from that water-bottle fiasco to flipping off the hometown fans to the stiffing of those U.S. congressmen to his 18-page indictment surrounding illegal dogfighting, Michael Vick still doesn’t get it.
Where was he? After the riveting 54 minutes it took on Thursday inside a stuffed room at the Lewis F. Powell Jr. U.S. Courthouse for a federal judge to set Vick’s bond in that dogfighting case and for another federal judge to run the arraignment proceedings, everybody was there outside the courthouse before the microphones.
Well, almost everybody. You had Vick’s four lawyers. You had his mother, Brenda Boddie, standing as a clear-eyed supporter in brilliant red beside noted defense attorney Billy Martin, the leader of Vick’s dream team. You had a slew of television cameras and notebook pads representing media outlets from various parts of the western hemisphere.
There was no Michael Vick. Then again, such was the case after the Ron Mexico thing regarding herpes charges and the missing-watch thing at the Atlanta airport security involving one of his so-called “crew” members and all those other things involving Vick that Falcons officials allowed their troubled quarterback to shrug away while hiding.
This time, with the universe watching, waiting and wondering, Martin said of his missing client, “He’s still inside [the courtroom] signing papers.”
Oh. Just a crazy thought: If Vick really does want folks to know that he is innocent in bold and loud terms (which Martin kept alluding to), why didn’t his dream team wait until star client finished signing those papers before starting such a high-profile news conference? Since police in Surry County discovered an elaborate dogfighting ring at one of Vick’s Virginia homes in April, he has said virtually nothing. He did plead not guilty with little emotion Thursday before one of those federal judges and about 100 live witnesses, but he has to do more than that. He has to take responsibility for his actions in public for one of the few times during his NFL life.
Mostly, Vick has to realize that he’s fighting not only for his freedom but for his reputation. Both are on shaky ground, since the feds have a celebrated 95 percent conviction rate. Plus, many of those deafening boos he heard from hundreds of spectators after he arrived at the steps of the courthouse were coming from those living in his native Virginia.
This was as sad as it gets for an imploding sports hero. After the three other co-defendants were marched into the courtroom, Vick appeared a minute later, with whispers exploding throughout the place. Why is he wearing a dark suit and dark blue shirt and tie? (Most wear crisp white shirts to these settings). What is he thinking with his teammates preparing for training camp while he’s sitting there in anticipation of those chilling words?
“ALL RISE.” The other federal judge came in for the arraignment, and following a few responses of “Yes sir,” and a “not guilty” plea, it was over. Actually, it should have been the beginning for Vick to start his PR push with the public by rushing outside with the rest of his handlers and supporters, but it didn’t happen.
In a different time and for different reasons, Simon & Garfunkel would have moaned on what was a beautifully ugly day in Richmond County, “Where have you gone, Michael Vick, the miracle in cleats for the ages? The Falcons Nation turns its angry eyes away from you.” The same goes for the Virginia Nation, once huge for Vick as a standout for the Hokies in Blacksburg.
On the west end of Richmond, they’ve got gigantic statues of Confederate heroes and Virginia icon Arthur Ashe on pedestals along Monument Avenue. Chances are Vick won’t join their ranks any time soon, especially after he sauntered into the U.S. Courthouse as Case No. 3:07CR274.
Not exactly the stuff that inspires bronzed immortality.
Permalink | Comments (100) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Terence Moore
My thoughts and yours on Falcons record
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
We come now to the audience-participation part of our program. I actually want to hear from you folks, and not just the responses that begin, “Bradley, your [sic] an idiot.” (Nothing gives a writer a greater chuckle than being called an idiot by someone who can’t differentiate between “your” and “you’re.” But I digress.)
I want to know what you think the Falcons’ record would have been with Michael Vick. I also want to know what you think it’ll be now.
I’ll go first. I was ready to say 9-7 with Vick, figuring the Falcons have somewhat more talent than most realize and figuring also that Vick would have a big year under Bobby Petrino. Now I’m thinking 5-11 because, no matter how much lip service will be paid to the need to Circle The Wagons and Handle Adversity, the 2007 Falcons have already suffered the sort of blow from which the 2003 Falcons, to cite a convenient local example, never recovered.
I think Petrino will coach his ballcap off, but I also think Joey Harrington is no Matt Schaub, let alone a Michael Vick. I’m thinking 5-11 because that’s what the 2003 Falcons wound up, although it must be noted that three of those five victories came after Vick returned from his broken leg. I don’t see him returning this season, if ever.
But that’s just me. Let’s hear what you good people have to say. Extra credit will be given to those who use “your” and “you’re” correctly. And next week we’ll work on the difference between “its” and “it’s.”
Permalink | Comments (384) | Categories: Mark Bradley, Quick Hit
Petrino deals with perhaps the worst offseason ever
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
In the six months since signing on for “the best job in football,” Bobby Petrino has seen a starting defensive end leave in free agency, four other regulars lost to injuries (one jet-skiing), another sue the team, one get arrested for felony animal abuse — not that guy, the other guy — and the franchise centerpiece turn into a human train wreck, with spectacular crashes from Miami to Capitol Hill and all shadowy barns in between.
On a lesser note, Jimmy Williams is facing misdemeanor marijuana charges. Relatively speaking, this is comic relief and ensures Williams at least will get on a stat sheet this season.
Today, the Falcons open training camp.
So. Everybody feeling all rested up?
Why does it feel like 3-9 in December and going to New England?
If nothing else, the backdrop to today’s practice in Flowery Branch has cast Petrino in an unfamiliar role — that of sympathetic figure. His career has shown him to be a talented, creative and successful coach — on wheels. His resume defines, “Hello, I must be going.” His secret job interviews define deception. But it’s difficult not to feel a little sorry for him.
Two days before training camp, Petrino was forced to attend a news conference 46 miles from the Falcons’ practice facility. He sat with his two bosses, Arthur Blank and Rich McKay, fielding questions on the artist formerly known as Michael Vick. He wore a suit and tie and a look that told you he would be ripping them off the second he got out the door. But he tried to play the role.
Reminded of his best job in football remarks in January, Petrino said, “I said that. I do believe that. I absolutely have no regrets about taking this job. I’m very motivated. This is a big obstacle, there’s no question about that. And only time will tell if what I said really happens, but I do believe this is the best job.”
We are reminded of the Watergate figure, G. Gordon Liddy, who, legend has it, held his hand over a flame until his skin burned. When asked what the trick was, Giddy responded, “The trick is not minding.”
After learning Wednesday that Warrick Dunn underwent surgery for a herniated disc, we can assume Petrino’s entire head is in the flame. If this isn’t the worst offseason in NFL history, it’s at least a cruel joke.
Petrino will mandate tunnel vision — even as the tunnel appears to be crumbling. The Falcons’ success depends on not merely his resiliency but how effectively he commands that from his players.
We know he can design an offense. Now we’ll find out how effectively he can grab the attention of NFL players. Even in the Falcons’ long and mostly inglorious history, we’ve never witnessed a distraction such as this, and one that might linger for months. Even if the Falcons move to put Vick and the dogfighting circus behind them as quickly as possible and release him, it wouldn’t eliminate the lingering odor. The Falcons will have to play through it.
Blank learned about the Vick indictment when a pilot woke him up on the return trip from Africa and handed him a fax. “There are times,” he said, “I wish I was back in Kenya, dealing with the lions and the cheetahs instead of this.”
But they’ll all have to deal with it, even if Vick is in another state. Most pro athletes can compartmentalize well, but this will be a test. It’s different from anything Blank went through at Home Depot, different from even what McKay experienced early with Tampa Bay.
Petrino? Just losing as a head coach would be a new experience. In four seasons at Louisville, he went 41-9, won the Orange Bowl and scored 40-plus points in more than half the games.
Just guessing, but the Falcons don’t have that look right now. They are small on the offensive line, thin on the defensive front and short on positions that make you feel comfortable.
Blank reminded the masses Tuesday that, “It’s not about one player. It’s never been about one player. It’s about a football team. It’s about an organization.”
In an ideal world, he is correct. But when times were good, Vick was so much more than one player. And now he’s so much more than one little obstacle.
Permalink | Comments (84) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Jeff Schultz
Barry bad decision there, Bud
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
Bud Selig just blew it — BIG TIME — but not in the way that you think. Instead of agreeing this week to join the Barry Bonds Home Run Chase, the baseball commissioner should have trusted his first instincts to stay away.
This has nothing to do with the ugly steroid allegations surrounding the personality challenged Bonds.
It’s like this: Despite knee-jerk opinions to the contrary, commissioners aren’t obligated to attend record-setting events in their sports. That’s because commissioners famously haven’t done such a thing in the past, and we’re talking about baseball commissioners and otherwise.
We needn’t go further than the NFL, supposedly the most PR savvy of the professional sports. Its equivalent to Bonds sitting on the verge of topping Hank Aaron’s all-time home run record was Emmitt Smith preparing five years ago at home in Dallas to sprint past Walter Payton as the all-time rushing leader.
Paul Tagliabue wasn’t there.
Not only that, when Payton eclipsed the legendary mark of Jim Brown in 1984, guess who wasn’t in Chicago? Pete Rozelle. This was the same commissioner who began the NFL obsession with image.
Consider, too, that given the friendly nature of an NFL schedule, it would have been easy for Tagliabue and Rozelle to plan to witness those record-breaking moments. In contrast, baseball teams play virtually every day and often move from town to town within a given week.
Plus, you can’t predict when somebody is going to hit a home run.
Even so, to hear the Selig bashers tell it, he is obligated to become part of the San Francisco Giants’ traveling team — you know, just in case Bonds goes deep for 754, 755 and then 756.
Ridiculous. The same applied to those who thought Bowie Kuhn SHOULD have been there in 1974 for Aaron’s record-breaker over Babe Ruth. Baseball commissioner Ford Frick wasn’t around in 1961 when Roger Maris broke Ruth’s single-season home run mark.
So go home, Bud. Watch Bonds set the record from your living room in Milwaukee, or just go bowling.
Permalink | Comments (121) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Quick Hit, Terence Moore
For Blank, a day tinged with sorrow
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Whatever anger Arthur Blank felt had been left behind closed doors. On display Tuesday was only sorrow. A proud and powerful man sat before the assembled media having been brought low by a quarterback who’d signed a contract worth $130 million but who allegedly still felt the need to bet $1,500 on a dog fight.
Arthur Blank bought the Falcons because he loves Atlanta and he loves sports and he loves the notion of sports serving to enhance the community. He came to work Tuesday — “work” in this case being his office at the Arthur M. Blank Family Foundation, his outlet for doing big-ticket good deeds — and was met by three animal-rights protesters. Think about that.
Think about an owner who has tried to be a friend and mentor to his players, an owner who now stands betrayed by the player he sought most to befriend and tutor. Think about this man of immense wealth feeling the need to apologize, four years after the fact, for the not-exactly-criminal act of pushing a broken-legged athlete around a football field in a wheelchair.
“A naive decision,” Blank called that 2003 photo op, and if there was an overarching message to Tuesday’s pained and protracted press briefing, that was it. Blank had put his trust, not to mention that $130 million, in Michael Vick, and now this mighty captain of industry had been made to feel like a seagoing naif.
“There was no reason to believe what came out in the indictment would be in the indictment,” Blank said. There was no reason, he said, because he “did not think it was my responsibility to ask Michael if he’s guilty or not guilty.” And then, asked about the Michael Vick cited 50-plus times in the indictment: “That’s not the Michael Vick I know. That’s not the person or the player I’ve known these last six years.”
If blissful ignorance isn’t the most desirable commodity in the business world, neither is it a federal crime. Maybe the Falcons should have grasped that Vick wasn’t as nice a guy as they’d hoped he’d be, but could anyone have guessed that not-so-nice would translate into the world’s most infamous dogfighting defendant? Said Blank, believably: “We had no indication, no signs, no whispers of this type of behavior … I didn’t know he owned any dogs.”
Almost pitifully, he felt moved to add: “Pet dogs.”
A rich man buys a football team because he thinks it’ll be fun, and six years later he finds himself being labeled an enabler of criminal conduct. Think about that. Think about a guy who saw the profit potential in ceiling fans now having every business decision of these six years thrown open to question. Of the choice to lavish that $130 million contract on Vick two days before Christmas 2004, Blank said: “I felt this talented young athlete needed to be a Falcon for life.”
Two years, seven months and two days later, there’s every indication that talented young athlete has played his last snap as a Falcon. Blank wanted to suspend Vick for four games, the maximum allowable under the collectable bargaining agreement, before the NFL moved Monday night to bar him from training camp. Should the league lift its moratorium, there’s a good chance the Falcons could swallow the salary-cap poison pill and cut him.
Think about that. Think about Arthur Blank, who prides himself on his business savvy, being confronted with the realization that he couldn’t have been more wrong about the most famous employee he has ever had. Think about the deflation and disillusionment the rich man must be experiencing today.
“Try to explain [the concept of dogfighting] to a little fellow who’s 10-years- old,” said Blank, speaking of his son, and there were long moments Tuesday when the billionaire looked and sounded 10 himself. He kept blinking and biting his lip. He appeared as if he wanted to cry. He’d given Michael Vick every chance, and Michael Vick has made this proud and powerful man seem like just another wide-eyed dupe.
Permalink | Comments (63) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Mark Bradley
Scully’s call on Aaron’s 715th irksome
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
You know — a term frequently used as punctutation by athletes who didn’t major in grammar — I’d never heard this thing until the other day, all these years since it was spoken in 1974. And no reason I should have, for I was at the Braves game that night, not listening to a broadcast from Los Angeles.
The Dodgers were in town, and Vin Scully was doing the game on his West Coast network. Henry Aaron had just hit his 715th home run, and old Atlanta Stadium was in hysterics, when Scully, putting his touch on the event, spoke into his microphone, “A black man is getting a standing ovation in the deep South for breaking the home run record of an all-time baseball idol.”
Beg pardon? I don’t know what I’d have thought at the moment, for I’d have been too swept up in the event. Aaron had passed Babe Ruth. The most unbreakable record in baseball had been broken in our own precinct. Hank Aaron had broken it, and he was getting a standing ovation, and why not, I should ask? And why should it not happen in the South?
My god, this was 1974. Yes, this was the South, but there was something about the way Scully said it that made your hackles rise. We’d thought we had that pretty well worked out, and we’d had all winter to get ready for it. Aaron had hit No. 713 off Jerry Reuss the September before, and No. 714 off Jack Billingham on opening day in Cincinnati. No. 715 couldn’t be far removed.
So the human eruption came. People danced, cried out in delight, jumped and did wild things. A couple of young fellows leaped from the stands and joined up with Aaron around second base, then disappeared into the billowing crowd. (One of them is a lawyer in Atlanta today.) Neither of them had the color of Aaron’s skin on their mind, nor did any of us in that pit of glorious insanity.
Scully wasn’t sitting in a studio in Los Angeles. He was there in the middle of it in Atlanta Stadium, and it’s not as if he’d never been South before. His wife is a Southerner, from the county seat of my hometown. If this had been in the Bronx would he have announced, “A Harlemite is getting a standing ovation in New York City!”
Nah, they don’t pick cotton in New York, draw well water, milk the cow, or perform other such agricultural chores. I can tell you I have. I’ve done it all. It makes you sweat, but it doesn’t make you any different, no matter what your color. No doubt, Aaron had absorbed a ton of junk from the stands who had more than Ruth’s record on their mind.
I didn’t like seeing Ruth’s record go, but I liked the idea of it settling on Atlanta, and had taken on the project of collaborating with Aaron on his life story. Beyond that, times had been hard on Aaron. He had gone through divorce, split from his family, his ears burning with the bellowing of dissenters, and the frequent target of every kind of nut case on the planet.
“I’ll tell you this much,” he said once at the height of his pursuit, “this kind of abuse isn’t going to stop me. The more they push me, the more I want the record. All I want is to be treated like a human being.”
There’s a certain authenticity in Aaron’s home-run production not found in Bonds’. Aaron’s were evenly distributed over the years; eight times he hit 40 or more, 47 his highest. Bonds never reached the 40s until his eighth season in the majors, then it was eight seasons later that he erupted into the soaring number of 73. Never close before, never close since. Aaron led the league in a column more important to his team, runs batted in, four times, 2,297 the record for a career.
All these years have passed and Aaron finds himself firmly seated at a similar popularity level as Babe Ruth when his record was under assault, though for reasons of differing nature. It’s not the home runs as much as it is the genuine respect for the man. The Babe had his record in his own time. The Hammer has the record for all time, as most of us see it. Don’t know how Vin Scully will address it if and when it happens that Barry Bonds passes the record, no more than I can imagine whatever brought him to to say what he said when it happened in Atlanta in 1974.
I do know it’s keeping a lot of us up past our bedtime while the Braves carry the fight to the West Coast.
Permalink | | Categories: Furman Bisher
Tomlinson could’ve been ours
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
THE TUESDAY COUNTDOWN
10: The Tuesday Countdown would like to thank Roger Goodell for allowing us to report to training camp, even if blogging is considered detrimental to journalism.
9: Kimberly Bell, Barry Bonds’ former mistress, is posing for Playboy. I’m guessing nobody is going to make a fuss if she’s artificially enhanced.
8: Soooo … maybe now’s not a good time to re-evaluate that whole Vick-for-LaDainian Tomlinson-Drew Brees-Tim Dwight trade.
7: Let’s get to what’s really important. Joey Harrington may be the first quarterback in history to go from backup to starter but not climb in Fantasy League rankings.
6: So I mentioned the other day (in a real column) that the Falcons probably wouldn’t be any good this season even with Vick, given the team’s other issues. Not that this qualifies as absolute proof, but consider these odds on Bodog.com. To wager on the Falcons MISSING the playoffs, you have to give 2-9 odds (bet $9 to win $2) if Vick is on the team and 1-7 (only slightly worse) if he’s not on the team. If, you feel daring, it’s 20-1 that he’ll never play another NFL game.
5: His legal issues notwithstanding, Vick figures to still have an opportunity to resuscitate his career. But he could go down as one of the most pathetic figures in the history of professional sports, given how he drop-kicked his package of talent, magnetism and power.
4: Just guessing: Goodell will try to stretch his “just stay away” from training camp edict to Vick for as long as possible, at least until such time as the union protests - and when is the last time the NFLPA protested anything?
3: Wouldn’t it just be easier if they just put a model’s runway on the soccer field and let David and Victoria Beckham walk back and forth for a couple of hours? I mean, what’s the point of an MLS game?
2: If Tim Donaghy officiated any Hawks games last season, I’m assuming he didn’t take the underdog and the points.
1: Despite Vick’s absence in Flowery Branch, PETA announced it will continue to protest, at least until such time as the league bans the use of the word “pigskin” and Grady Jackson becomes a vegetarian.
Permalink | Comments (168) | Categories: Jeff Schultz, Quick Hit
No way Vick plays for Falcons again
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
He’s gone. Whether that means for the season or forever in the NFL is debatable, but this isn’t: No way Michael Vick ever plays again for the Falcons.
No way Michael Vick ever can play again for the Falcons.
More specifically, given the ugliness and the intensity surrounding his dogfighting indictment, no way Michael Vick ever should play again for the Falcons. The fact that the NFL ordered the beleaguered quarterback on Monday night to stay away from training camp was the beginning of the end for Vick in Atlanta.
If nothing else, Vick is guilty of stupidity in the first degree. He says he wasn’t aware of illegal dogfighting in this case, but it happened on his property in Virginia for five years. Plus, most of those involved were from his boyhood “crew” that he regularly swore allegiance to despite the criminal past of its members and warnings from former coach Dan Reeves.
He’s gone, all right. Even if Vick loses his mind during the next few days by not taking the deal proposed by the league, players union and Falcons officials that would give Vick a lengthy paid leave of absence, he is gone anyway. If he ignores the deal, he will be suspended by the league. All you had to do was listen to NFL spokesman Greg Aiello reemphasize over the phone from New York that commissioner Roger Goodell is obsessed with doing whatever it takes to “protect the shield.”
Translated: Image is everything to Goodell and league owners.
“I mean, it’s well understood that the commissioner has a key role in maintaining the integrity of the league,” said Aiello, referring to NFL commissioners in general but to this one in particular. Despite less than a year on the job, Goodell’s nickname already could be “ruthless,” especially when it comes to discipline.
Added Aiello, while sifting through the league bylaws on his desk, “Detrimental conduct, the commissioner is authorized to take appropriate steps as he deems necessary and is proper in the best interest of the league or either professional football.” Aiello kept sifting, before saying, “When anyone connected with the league or any member thereof is guilty of any conduct detrimental either to the league, its clubs or to professional football …”
Aiello didn’t finish.
He’s gone.
If Vick doesn’t go by himself, or if Goodell miraculously turns soft, the Falcons should just cut him. The $22 million salary cap hit they’d take over the next two years would be less than the financial hit they’d take from lost advertising and ticket sales with a PR-damaged Vick on their roster.
It doesn’t matter whether or not Vick spent a millisecond watching pitbulls gnaw at each other for sport. It doesn’t matter whether or not he participated in the electrocution, drowning, shooting, hanging or crushing of losing dogs. It doesn’t matter whether or not he threw money toward the activity. It doesn’t matter whether or not he had knowledge any of this was happening. You won’t succeed as an NFL franchise with a heavy dose of turmoil in your world. It’s bad enough if the focus of that turmoil is a wide receiver such as Terrell Owens or a cornerback such as Pacman Jones, but if it’s a quarterback, forget it.
Worse, for the Falcons, Vick already was the most polarizing force in the history of Atlanta sports. You can blame it on his uneven play as a dramatic runner with an erratic arm combined with his hip-hop ways. Now you have this dogfighting mess with animal rights protestors fuming, active and growing from Washington D.C. to Flowery Branch. You had one U.S. senator shaking and screaming his disgust with Vick and dogfighting on the floor of the Capitol. You had another U.S. senator proposing legislation to end dogfighting and urging the NFL to get rid of Vick.
Even if Vick finds a way to make puppies fly by joining the five percent of those who ever have beaten the feds, he’d become the Falcons’ O.J. Simpson in the eyes of thousands or millions — an African-American with lots of money who had the audacity to get away with something.
Imagine the barking from coast to coast, and then imagine all of those empty seats at the Georgia Dome.
Oh, he’s gone.
Permalink | Comments (518) | Categories: Terence Moore
Has Vick lost his ability to lead?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
The Falcons’ options on the future of Michael Vick read like a honcho’s playbook. Start him. Suspend him. Mandate a leave of absence with pay — or without. Maybe just stall for comedic value until Roger Goodell’s head explodes (seemingly the current course of action).
But three days before the start of training camp, Arthur Blank needs to answer a question far more important than whether his quarterback can absorb a new offense.
That is: Has Vick lost his ability to lead?
This isn’t about talent. Vick has talent, and those who doubt his skills to play quarterback ignore the inferior subjects who’ve already played in Super Bowls (Rex Grossman, David Woodley and Trent Dilfer come to mind).
But Vick’s talent and leadership abilities are equals. His work ethic and study habits in his first six seasons have been poor (even if coaches have labored to cover that up in the past). Vick has been slow to accept responsibility when things go wrong, or maintain perspective when things go right.
Credibility and image go way beyond a new haircut.
Some believe Vick can change his ways. Here’s the problem. The Falcons are coming off two non-playoff seasons. Even with a talented coach like Bobby Petrino, expectations haven’t been this low since Dan Reeves was duct-taped to a passing train. Several draft picks and free agents haven’t panned out. There are significant personnel issues, with little salary cap room to provide a quick fix. Petrino brings a new offense that would give Vick more responsibility than he has ever had before. But Flowery Branch has been Distraction Central, between Vick, injuries and, well, Vick.
It’s not an atmosphere conducive to, “OK, guys, it’s a new day! Let’s get focused!”
We’ve already seen protesters outside of NFL offices. We’ve already seen Nike retreat, and Al Sharpton attack — and who could have imagined either?
We’ve already seen season-ticket holders threatening to cancel (if they haven’t already). Sponsors will follow (if they haven’t already). A case could be made that the same will occur if Vick’s not around. But by keeping him, the problems certainly won’t go away, because Vick is the cause of the problems.
Blank must know things will get worse. Protests outside of practices, games, maybe the team hotel. Players hounded by the media, answering questions about dogfighting instead of anything related to football. The story will be played out daily, on the air, on the Internet and in print. Players will hear comments in the produce aisle at Kroger.
Petrino could be Vince Lombardi and it wouldn’t matter. He’ll be one man with a fire extinguisher in the middle of a forest fire.
The NFL is about structure and discipline. Petrino defines that. This situation doesn’t.
It would help if Vick handled adversity well. It would help if he had a long resume of success. It would help if he were a better leader. But he hasn’t, he doesn’t, he isn’t.
“Leaders aren’t born,” the late, great Lombardi once said. “They are made.”
But for too long, Vick has acted like the intangibles necessary to lead in the NFL came free with two fast legs and a shotgun arm. These aren’t ideal circumstances for suddenly turning into Patton.
Remember, this season had the potential to be a one-and-done for Vick even before the mess at the Miami airport, the Congressional blow-off, the dogfighting indictment, et. al. Indications are that Petrino was empowered with a far greater say in personnel in general, and Vick in particular, than Jim Mora had. If Vick didn’t show significant improvement this season, he likely would be gone.
Amid all of this, should we expect significant improvement?
For all of the nightmarish projections with Joey Harrington at quarterback, exactly what greatness is being projected with Vick playing and practicing between attorney meetings, court hearings, trying to function with a new coach, new offense and screams from protesters, politicians and even a hip-hop mogul (Russell Simmons already has weighed in)?
“Leadership rests not only upon ability, not only upon capacity; having the capacity to lead is not enough,” Lombardi said. “The leader must be willing to use it. His leadership is then based on truth and character. There must be truth in the purpose and will power in the character.”
Something for Blank to think about before his next move.
Permalink | Comments (197) | Categories: Jeff Schultz
Selig just can’t get it right on Bonds
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Roger Goodell presides over a sport that has a high-profile quarterback under indictment for his alleged part in a dogfighting conspiracy. David Stern presides over a sport that has a referee under investigation for point-shaving. Those are ugly situations, but the NFL and the NBA have demonstrated their capacity to limit damage and correct mistakes.
Bud Selig presides over the sport that never gets anything right. Bud Selig is personally sending the message that Barry Bonds hitting No. 756 will be an achievement scarcely worth honoring. Over the All-Star break, Selig called Hank Aaron’s 755 home runs “the most hallowed” record in the sport, but the commissioner obviously regards any thoughts of Bonds exceeding that standard as a deathly hallows.
The chief reason baseball never gets anything right is that Bud Selig presides over it. He pretends to be working in the best interests of his sport, but actually he works to further the interests of whatever seems to be floating the financial boat. When Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa were launching homers at a record pace in 1998, this Bud was all for it because people were buying tickets and tuning in. Only when external events — grand juries, Congressional hearings, publication of “Game of Shadows” — exposed the longball binge as a function of steroids did this same Bud decide to share the indignation.
It’s a source of continual amusement that the same commish who couldn’t wait to toast McGwire and Sosa now dithers so publicly over whether he should even show up to watch Bonds pursue this record. He was on hand at Miller Park — Selig still lives in Milwaukee — on Friday because, he told reporters, “[Bonds] is playing here in a game important to the pennant race.”
He was planning to be back Saturday and today, Selig said, but he made it clear he wouldn’t be toting a kit bag of confetti. Any celebration of the record, he said Friday, was at the discretion of the Giants, not Major League Baseball. As for the legitimacy of the record itself, Selig said: “I’m not passing judgment, nor should I.”
By “not passing judgment,” Selig leaves no doubt he regards Bonds as a cheat. But, being his blithering self, Bud won’t come out and say so. That, see, would all but invalidate the sport he’s supposed to be safeguarding. Instead he seeks to have it both ways — he continues to allow Bonds to play and hit home runs but refuses to offer his patriarchal blessing. In the history of team sports, there has never been anything half so
incongruous.
Conventional wisdom holds that Bonds indeed is an artificial slugger, but is conventional wisdom enough to nullify a 21-year body of work? (Bonds was a great player when he was conspicuously slender.) What if nobody ever proves he took steroids? What if baseball never finds grounds to invalidate this record? (FYI, Mc- Gwire’s numbers still stand, and so do Rafael Palmeiro’s. And Jason Giambi, who has admitted using steroids, is still playing for the Yankees.) Twenty years from now, will some other commissioner be apologizing to Bonds for Selig’s refusal to make a bigger fuss back when?
Baseball being baseball, it tried to let some other body do its dirty work, and those bodies have moved too slowly to blunt Bonds’ assault. (The New York Daily News reports the federal grand jury investigating Bonds for perjury has extended its term another six months.) Surely Selig wouldn’t be cringing if the challenge had come from someone less abrasive — Ken Griffey Jr. or Alex Rodriguez — but this way is utterly fitting. A shortsighted sport and its dim-bulb commissioner are about to get the home-run champion they deserve.
Permalink | Comments (33) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Mark Bradley
Longing for old Carnoustie
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
Given where I’d prefer to be, make it Carnoustie. That’s a village in Scotland, built around golf, hard by the North Sea. In fact, Scotland used to export golf professionals to the United States like the Japanese ship cars. The Smith brothers, Alec and MacDonald, Tommy Armour, George Low (the original; Junior became known as “America’s Guest”). All but Armour came from Carnoustie. Ben Hogan went to Carnoustie and won the Open in 1953, then never went back.
Not that Carnoustie was much to look at first time I was there. The clubhouse could have played the central role in “Caddyshack.” Rodney Dangerfield would have been the pro. Daily food fare featured two thin slices of bread with a hint of something or other between. The lone hotel looked like a Super 8 somewhere on a farm road in Kansas. I lucked out. I couldn’t get a room. I think the capacity was eight.
Tom Watson won the 1975 Open at Carnoustie, and for 24 years it never came back. When it did, you never heard such howling. The Royal & Ancient thought they wanted a golf course, not a feather bed. You know how the pros always say, “We are professionals.” When they saw Carnoustie in 1999, they still howled, “We said a golf course, not a pasture.”
Nobody could break par. Winning score was 290, 6-over par, setting up a playoff that a resident of Aberdeen, Paul Lawrie, won over the Frenchman, Jean van de Velde, and forgotten American Justin Leonard. If you have been watching televised golf the past few days, I won’t go into more of that.
Spoiled Americans raise all kinds of gripes about Scotland. I’d have loved to get up and had a Scottish breakfast this morning — hold the blood sausage. They get confused at roundabouts. All you need to know is who has the right-of-way. Americans make their own rules. We need roundabouts.
If you’ve been watching, you’ve heard whistles in the background. Scares you. You think a storm is coming. Play stoppage. (I’ve never seen lightning there.) It’s just the trains flashing by, honking their horns. Train travel is big over there, and convenient. Beats interstates and traffic clutter.
Once I was driving two ladies to the rail station at Leuchers, on the outskirts of St. Andrews. Turning around, I saw golf traffic for miles and decided to seek another route. I saw a bus leaving the station and decided to follow, figuring a bus driver surely knew his way back to St. Andrews. We wheeled merrilly along through the town, then the bus slowed for a turn. I slowed and followed right behind. It was his driveway. He was going home for lunch.
Bathing has never been overdone over there. My first time at an Open I was booked in a room no larger than a Pullman space. Facilities were down the hall. Flomax hadn’t been discovered yet. You get the rest. Now, you may think such 19th century accommodations were a hardship. Oh, you grumbled, but that was part of the game. Get home and make folly of spoiled Americans. Besides, the Scots have found that a belt or two of double malt tames the mood, taken with a dollop or two of haggis. Ingredients uncertain.
This time the Open returned to a cozier Carnoustie. It was as tame as a pussy cat. As if it had been gelded. No rough to speak of. Somebody turned the wind off. A little rain fell, just enough to remind you of Scotland. Scores ran 10 strokes lower, nothing as soft, though, as at Hoylake a year ago where 270 won for Tiger Woods.
Europeans had a home team to cheer about on a rare occasion. The British had adopted Seve Ballesteros in his prime as a resident favorite, and it so happened that on the occasion of his official retirement, here came another Spaniard to take his place. Sergio Garcia came dressed like a paint salesman Saturday, but he finished the round looking fully armed to move in for Seve. He was set up to pull the trigger.
You grieve at not being there. You miss the Scottish inconveniences. You miss the little hotel in Montrose, and the quite civilized evening meals. You miss the drive through the countryside down to Carnoustie. On the other hand, you’d be relieved to be out of range of the turmoil of Michael Vick. Memories came flowing ever so sweetly, until blocked out by return to reality.
Permalink | Comments (10) | Categories: Furman Bisher
Plenty of fight left in Forrest
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
We now return to the more accepted form of fighting, that which involves humans (for the most part) and not dogs, competitors who box but don’t gnaw (usually) and losers who are actually free to return from defeat or medical ailments because there’s a pretty good chance their manager did not bury their carcass in the backyard.
Vernon Forrest used to be the second-most famous boxing champion in Atlanta, after Evander Holyfield. He’s now the second-most famous former champion trying to recapture youth, glory and a title, still after Holyfield.
Whereas Holyfield’s chase for another belt (Sansabelt?) has him sparring in lampoon central, Forrest’s pursuit isn’t endless.
He may be seven days away from a title.
The former welterweight champion — not far removed from three surgeries, acting school, a bit part in a movie and a two-year layoff — meets Carlos Baldomir next week for the vacant WBC junior middleweight (154-pound) championship in Tacoma, Wash.
“Evander’s trying to win the title again,” Forrest said, “and now I’m about to become a two-division champion.”
There are enough guys to joke about in boxing. Forrest isn’t one of them.
Nothing has ever come easy. He had a brilliant amateur career that ended prematurely in the 1992 Olympics, when food poisoning led to an early defeat. He returned to his native Augusta, moved to Atlanta and started a pro career. He won 33 straight bouts (with one no contest) and the IBF welterweight title. But he struggled for universal respect until 2002, when he recorded consecutives wins over the previously unbeaten “Sugar Shane” Mosley.
Now, Forrest had it all. Two title belts. Wealth. Charm. Adoration. Respect. He was named Ring Magazine’s 2002 Fighter of the Year. He started Destiny’s Child Inc., which provided housing and assistance to mentally challenged adults.
What’s that they say about everybody having 15 minutes of fame?
First came the title loss to the taunting and cigarette-smoking Ricardo Mayorga, who baited the sweet-boxing Forrest into a slugging match. Then came the rematch, another loss to Mayorga, though this time by disputed decision. Then came the pain in his left shoulder and arm he could no longer withstand.
“I really damaged it back in 1994 when I was sparring,” Forrest said. “But I couldn’t just take two years off to have surgery. I had to start my career.”
It took two shoulder surgeries and one elbow to fix a torn rotator and cartilage damage. Forrest was off for two years. He moved to Los Angeles, where he had the surgeries and then rehabbed.
Says he never really thought about retiring — particularly given the possible alternative.
“I had a role in [the film] ‘Tournament of Dreams,’ ” Forrest said, laughing. “It was supposed to come out in theaters, but it came out in Blockbuster instead.”
He played a girls’ basketball coach. “I had lines,” he said. “I tell them, ‘Do anything it takes to win.’ Basically I tell them to play dirty.”
His pay?
“Peanuts. I told myself, ‘I’ve got to get back into the ring.’ “
He did so in 2005. He moved back to Atlanta and up to 154 from welterweight (147), and in 2005 dropped Sergio Rios in two rounds. He probably became the first boxer in history to have a physical therapist in his corner, just in case he needed treatment for lingering nerve damage.
“The last time I was that nervous was my first fight when I was 9 years old,” Forrest said. “There was a lot of uncertainty because of the ring rust, the shoulder, everything.”
He followed that with wins over Elco Garcia and another former champion, Ike Quartey. The last was a unanimous but narrow and disputed decision.
But he’s here. He no longer is associated with Destiny’s Child, saying, “I needed to focus on boxing. That’s what I do best.”
Baldomir’s another former champion, but his record (43-10-6) isn’t nearly as impressive as Forrest’s (38-2).
His plans after this fight?
“I don’t have any,” he said. “This is all I’m thinking about. See, that’s a veteran’s answer. A younger guy might’ve told you something else.”
He’s learned not to assume his next chapter.
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: Jeff Schultz
Falcons damned if they do, damned if they don’t keep Vick
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
If the Falcons let Michael Vick play, a lot of people will be really upset. If they don’t let him play, they’ll lose a lot of games, and that will upset folks, too.
If they let him play, he’ll be the talking point of every game. If they don’t, he’ll still be the talking point, as in, “Would the Falcons have won if Vick had been out there?”
If they let him play, they’ll give the impression they don’t care about right and wrong. If they don’t, they’ll give the impression they don’t care about wins and losses.
Since the NFL seems content to leave the issue in the lap of the judiciary system, the play-or-sit call is apparently the Falcons’ call to make. Arthur Blank and Rich McKay are smart men, but even Confucius and Solomon in solemn consultation would struggle to choose between these bad options.
Vick will appear in federal court the day the Falcons open training camp. It’s expected he’ll post bond. If he’s free to walk the streets, shouldn’t he also be free to earn a living? A paid leave of absence might unknot the earning tangle, but how would it play among other salaried employees?
Bobby Petrino came here to coach Vick. How would he feel if his best quarterback was eligible to play in the eyes of the law and the league but was held out for the sake of appearances? How would Alge Crumpler feel, or Joe Horn? Wouldn’t shelving Vick until the matter is resolved be tantamount to quitting on the team and its season? And how many fans who insist they’d rather see the Falcons go 1-15 with Joey Harrington will feel so righteous if the 1-15 actually transpires?
The moral high ground is easy to tread from afar. It’s only during the actual trek that things get muddy. The Falcons don’t want to appear crass — Blank has always seemed sincere in his desire that employees be good citizens — but they aren’t a college team. There’s no educational component to their mission. They exist to win games. Even if you regard Vick as more hype than substance, you must concede he gives his team a better chance to win than Harrington.
Back to the college thing. Facing a deluge of publicity and an ongoing investigation, a prestigious university shuttered an entire program and fired the coach. Today, Duke’s mishandling of its lacrosse team stands as an object lesson — how not to respond.
The wiser course, which isn’t to be confused with the popular one, is to let the courts sort it out. Kobe Bryant played while facing trial in Colorado, and his case was ultimately dismissed. The Falcons released Tony Martin, their deep threat in their Super Bowl season, after he was indicted on federal money-laundering charges. He was acquitted and wound up catching 67 passes for the Dolphins that fall. Two years later he returned to the Falcons for his final pro season.
There’s even a more recent local precedent: The Falcons haven’t released Jonathan Babineaux, who himself faces a felony charge of animal abuse, or placed him on paid leave. This was Blank in February: “There’s this thing called the legal process that’s even above the NFL and sports … [Cutting Babineaux] would be the worst possible thing we could do. It would be a slap in the face to the judicial system. Making the concession of throwing somebody on the fire would be the worst thing for our organization and the worst thing for Atlanta.”
If that was true then, it’s true still. And time and distance — and, let’s be honest, winning — have a way of calming even the most impassioned outrage. Yes, it was unseemly that Rafael Furcal played in the 2004 division series after having being sentenced, earlier that same day, to three weeks in jail for violating probation. Yet Turner Field patrons seemed not to mind when Furcal hit the home run that won the game.
If the Falcons let Michael Vick play, they’ll look bad. If they don’t, they’ll look even worse.
Indictment only one chapter in “Life of Vick”
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
The guys on WFAN in New York kept asking me this morning if Michael Vick’s reputation hadn’t been damaged beyond repair. Call me Pollyanna — or, if you’re of a more literary stripe, Dr. Pangloss — but I was willing to concede only half the point.
Damaged? Absolutely. But beyond repair?
Was Kobe Bryant’s image damaged beyond repair because of the indictment in Colorado? (When last I saw him, Bryant was playing against the Hawks in Philips Arena and being cheered by more than half the fans in attendance.) Was Ray Lewis’ image damaged beyond repair because of the murder trial here? (Every profile of Lewis references the case and Lewis’ plea bargain to a charge of obstructing justice, but he remains an All-Pro linebacker and the unchallenged leader of the Baltimore Ravens.) Was Tony Martin’s reputation damaged beyond repair when the federal government brought money-laundering charges against him?
The Martin example is instructive, given that it involved both the Falcons and the feds. Martin was the deep threat on the Falcons’ Super Bowl team of 1998. (He caught the biggest pass of the epic NFC title game in the Metrodome, a 70-yard reception when the Falcons were trailing by 10 points early in the fourth quarter.) In early 1999 he was indicted, whereupon the Falcons, fearing the worst, released him. He was acquitted on all counts. He played all 16 games that fall for the Miami Dolphins, catching 67 passes. Two years later, the Falcons brought him back. He caught 37 passes for them in 2001, and no protests were held outside the Georgia Dome.
The charges against Michael Vick are grim and detailed. Many among us swear today they’ll never root for him again. But what if he’s acquitted and leads the Falcons to the Super Bowl? Will those same folks be so resolute then? What if, out on bail, he leads the Falcons to the playoffs this season? Will some of those same folks develop a convenient case of cognitive dissonance?
This isn’t to trivialize the indictment or its possible ramifications. But the most erroneous quote in the history of literature is the F. Scott Fitzgerald chestnut: “There are no second acts in American lives.” There are scores of second acts in American lives. And none of us can know today how the full life of Michael Dwayne Vick, American, will play out.
Permalink | Comments (221) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Mark Bradley, Quick Hit
Did Vick know what was going on?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
Just ask yourself this question: Do you think he knew what was going on?
For a moment, let’s forget about the 18-page indictment, which names Michael Vick 51 times. Let’s forget about the cooperating witnesses and the double-secret sources that claim Vick funded, operated and actively participated in training dogs, fighting dogs and executing dogs.
Is there really any way possible that he didn’t know?
Can a person be that oblivious? These are his friends. This is his house. Did he go there, even if rarely, and NEVER look out the back window and say, “What’s with those little black houses in the yard?” Did he never see any dog-training equipment? Or blood splatters? Did he never notice receipts for medicine or vet visits or “rape stands” or pry bars or, like a million bags of dog food?
Did he never once travel to this house of horrors on Moonlight Road and think, “Man. Sure is a lot of dog poop around here.”
He knew. Of course he knew. And that’s enough.
The Falcons are trying to figure out where to go with Michael Vick. Try this: Run in the other direction.
No more coddling. No more enabling. No more spinning. Just go.
The NFL may or may not suspend Vick before his trial. But owner Arthur Blank and this little enterprise of his shouldn’t wait for the mother ship to act.
Suspend Vick if you want to look tough and send a message to fans.
Announce Vick is going on an indefinite leave of absence if you want to seem compassionate and supporting, as if he was dealing with some rare disease or family emergency.
Just pick an exit strategy and move on.
He knew. Of course he knew. And when you know, you’re not just a good guy surrounded by bad people. When you know and do nothing, you’re one of them.
I don’t want to hear about due process right now. Would anybody in any other walk of life be allowed to continue working if these charges were leveled against him by the federal government?
A police officer being accused of assault would be put on administrative leave.
A truck driver accused of reckless driving would be suspended, pending charges.
A teacher accused of having an affair with a student would suddenly disappear.
If Blank doesn’t know what to do, he should ask himself this question: If this was a guy selling hammers at Home Depot and not your star quarterback, what would be your first move? I’m guessing it wouldn’t be a directive, “Go sell more hammers.”
This isn’t Mayberry or some backwoods county filing charges. This is: “UNITED STATES OF AMERICA v. MICHAEL VICK, a/k/a ‘Ookie,’ ” and three lesser-known bottom-feeders.
The federal government doesn’t hand these things out like parking tickets. Read the indictment. It’s detailed. It names manners of executions, amounts of wagers, even names of dogs.
Did I mention Vick was referenced 51 times?
If the Falcons don’t act now, let’s call this what it is: They want to win games. It wouldn’t be about letting the legal system play out, or standing behind Vick, because that’s certainly not what team’s initial statement read like (we’ll get to that shortly). It would only be about seeing Vick first on the depth chart and Joey Harrington second and Blank thinking, “Oy.” It would only be about thinking Vick can get you to the playoffs and Harrington can’t and maybe people will talk about something other than page 17 of the indictment: “In or about April 2007, PEACE, PHILLIPS and VICK executed approximately 8 dogs that did not perform well in ‘testing’ sessions at 1915 Moonlight Road by various methods, including hanging, drowning and slamming at least one dog’s body to the ground.”
For all of the club’s talk about the “Falcon Filter” and serving the community, doing nothing would prove the Falcons to be as shallow as any other franchise.
Just guessing: If this were a backup lineman, not the quarterback or the franchise cash machine, there would be no hesitation.
Do nothing and this should be the Falcons new slogan: “Do the right thing — when it’s convenient.”
The Falcons’ initial statement embraced generics. It referenced the indictment being “troubling,” the team being “tested,” officials being “disappointed,” but franchise being “prepared to deal with it.”
There was no, “Michael is innocent,” or, “We’re behind him.” The closest was the final sentence: “Our plan is to continue to do everything we can to support our players and coaches.”
They’ve got other players. None are named in a federal indictment. Stand behind them.
Permalink | Comments (177) | Categories: Jeff Schultz
An open letter to Arthur Blank
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
To: Arthur Blank, Owner & CEO, Atlanta Falcons,
Flowery Branch, GA 30542
Dear Mr. Blank: This morning, as my wife scanned the disaster headline in the AJC, she mused, “Wonder if Arthur wouldn’t trade it all now for an apron and a little hat with ‘Home Depot’ on it?”
I said, “And give up all this?” I quoted from the Falcons press guide: “Blessed with rare athletic abilities not before seen at the quarterback position in the history of the NFL … called ‘most electrifying and exciting player in the NFL,’ ” writing of Michael Vick.
“Give up all that?” I said. “This was his dream world. Give him Michael Vick and he had an empire.”
No owner of a professional team franchise could have been kinder than you have been to Michael Vick. You have coddled him. You have taken him in as a friend, and team owners can’t have friendships with players. It doesn’t work.
Some few owners have taken to appearing on the sidelines, but you have taken it a few degrees further. Cameras have shown you sallying about with him, arm around him, smiling in victory, frowning in defeat. Another time you were shown pushing his wheelchair when he was injured. Even Jerry Jones doesn’t go that far. Players are field hands to Al Davis. You don’t see him fraternizing with any Raiders.
Of course, where you broke ranks was when you endowed Vick with a $130 million contract. That gave him a bigger chunk of the team than any of your minority owners. That gave him the impression he was the team. The Atlas of all he could survey. I often wondered if you ever had a sit-down, hard-nosed nuts-and-bolts jaw session with him, let him know who’s the boss, not his brother.
During the winter, after you traded Matt Schaub to Houston, I wrote a column suggesting that you had traded the wrong quarterback. Another writer scoffed at it, but the e-mailing public leaped aboard. “Vick is a thug and should have been traded,” one of the gentler respondents wrote. “He is holding the franchise hostage,” another wrote. Of all the responses, some 50 of them, only one took serious issue. I’m sure you must have fielded a few of them yourself. Did that not open your eyes? Now when you need Schaub most, he’s in Texas, not that any guarantee came with him. But at least he was not a Falcons player you had to be ashamed of.
Let me tell you about a man named Clint Murchison. Clint owned the Dallas Cowboys during the Tom Landry heyday, but you never saw Clint on camera. He was Texas-wealthy and didn’t feel any need to have his ego stroked. He could walk the street in Dallas and hardly anybody recognized him. He left the football stage to Landry and Tex Schramm. They built the franchise and made it run. Not that your staying off the sideline in the waning moments of the game is going to change anything, but I think it has thrown a shadow over your relationship with Vick.
Now it really gets touchy. Whatever his role in the alleged fighting-dog scandal, there’s one thing he can’t escape. He is the landlord of the place in Virginia, owns it, is responsible for what goes on there. You must have about $90 million of that exorbitant contract still hanging fire, stands to be written off. Nobody can show you where to go to fill that hole in the lineup, but it would be nice, wouldn’t it, if you still had Schaub in camp. He knew the offense and he wasn’t a magnet for trouble. Looks like you traded the wrong quarterback, sad to say.
Sorry, dear fellow, FB.
P.S.: You have a fellow on your board who could be a help to Vick on how to earn respect. His name is Henry Aaron.
Permalink | |
What do we make of this Michael Vick?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Please see the editor’s note at the end of Mark Bradley’s column for a message on commenting on this subject.
It’s no longer just an investigation. It’s an indictment. That isn’t to be confused with a conviction — the presumption of innocence still applies, or at least it should — but it’s now possible to wonder if Michael Vick’s career as a Falcon, once a bright and shining thing, is nearing its soiled and sorry end. It’s now possible to wonder if any of us has ever known the real Michael Vick.
An indictment means there’s a case against him. A case means a trial will be scheduled. A trial would mean he could go to jail.
An indictment also means Michael Vick has let a slew of people down. From Arthur Blank, who signed him to a new contract worth $130 million two days before Christmas in 2004; to Bobby Petrino, who came here largely because he wanted to coach him; to the teammates who put their trust in him; to every fan who has bought a No. 7 jersey and worn it with pride … none of those folks can look at Vick today the same way they did yesterday. The dynamics have changed. Reality has changed.
He’s no longer the guy who kept saying he was going to do the right things. He’s now the guy who has allegedly gotten one very big thing so wrong so often that a felony conspiracy charge has been brought against him. And while we must be mindful that an indictment offers only one side of the story and that all defendants are entitled to a vigorous defense, the 18 pages of this chilling document are, as my uncle Rob used to say, enough to make a grown man throw up.
From Page 4 of the indictment: “On or about June 29, 2001, Vick paid approximately $34,000 for the purchase of property located at 1915 Moonlight Road, Smithfield, Va. From this point forward, the defendants … used this property as the main staging area for housing and training the pit bulls involved in the dog fighting venture and hosting dog fights.”
On April 21, 2001, Vick had been drafted No. 1 overall by the Falcons.
From Page 12: “In or about March of 2003, [Purnell A.] Peace, after consulting with Vick about the losing female pit bull’s condition, executed the losing dog by wetting the dog down with water and electrocuting the animal.”
From Page 13: “In or about March of 2003, Vick retrieved a book bag from a vehicle containing approximately $23,000 in cash. The cash was provided to [cooperating witness] #2 as payment for winning both dog fight matches.”
On Jan. 4, 2003, Vick had led the Falcons to a playoff victory over Green Bay at storied Lambeau Field.
From Page 14: “In or about the fall of 2003, [the three other defendants] and Vick traveled from Atlanta, Ga., to South Carolina with a male pit bull named Magic to participate in a dog fight. … The purse of the dog fight was established at approximately $1,500 per side, for a total of approximately $3,000.”
On Aug. 16, 2003, Vick had broken his leg in an exhibition against the Baltimore Ravens. He wouldn’t return to play until Nov. 30 against Houston.
From Page 17: “In or about April of 2007, [two other defendants] and Vick executed approximately eight dogs that did not perform well in ‘testing’ sessions at 1915 Moonlight Road by various methods, including hanging, drowning and slamming at least one dog’s body to the ground.”
In April 2007, Vick was readying for his first mini-camp under his third NFL coach. He was a 26-year-old millionaire — since turned 27 — who had just walked away from a brush with authorities in the Miami airport.
He was, and is, old enough and smart enough to know right from wrong. He was, and is, old enough to have put aside childish (and potentially criminal) entanglements.
But here he is today, the lead sports story from coast to coast not because he has taken the Falcons to the Super Bowl but because he has been indicted for, of all things, conspiring to fight one animal against another. Here he is, once the brightest light in the Atlanta sports firmament, now just another fallen star.
AJC.COM NOTE: Due to the volatile subject nature of the Vick investigation, this blog will be opened for comments on Wednesday morning. Thank you for your patience and cooperation.
Permalink | Comments (314) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Mark Bradley
Tuesday Countdown: Sheff Explains It All
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
10: I would say that Gary Sheffield’s objective in life is to alienate everybody. But given that he hates Barry Bonds, that’ll save him a few friends.
9: Sheffield’s attack on Joe Torre actually is pathetic that it’s funny. But Sheffield’s I-don’t-use-steroids defense in an HBO interview was a real moment of hilarity: “Did I put [The Clear] under my tongue? Yes. Did I rub The Cream on my legs? Yes. Am I a steroid user? No.” That clears that up.
8: Do not adjust your blog. This is not a test. The Hawks did something right.
7: Josh Smith must believe that there is no question he’s part of the Hawks’ future and a core player to build around. His agent wants a new contract now. Well, that’s nice. But after three seasons, does anybody really know what kind of player Smith is? Or will be?
6: Smith made progress season. Which means what, exactly? Does that make all of the bad for most of 2 1/2 years go away? The Hawks want to wait on a new deal, and they should. There’s still a year left on Smith’s rookie contract. Let it expire. Next summer, Smith will still be only a restricted free agent, giving the Hawks the right to match an offer. If Josh Smith really thinks he’s all that, he’s got another year to prove it. If not, last I checked, the Hawks have a few forwards.
5: A few hours after being pulled five out-less batters into his start, the Braves’ Kyle Davies was belaboring pitches that “didn’t miss by much.” I’m not sure how he defines “much,” but the plate has been the same size for years. Davies needs to acquaint himself with the 12-step program for struggling starters. It starts with: 1) Acceptance. “You’re missing!”
4: David Beckham may miss first MLS game because of a sprained ankle. Probably tripped over a magazine stand.
3: I know that back when I was a big sports fan, I always wanted my heroes to start their season with a semi-pornographic photo spread with their wife in an entertainment magazine. I mean, all of the great sports stars did it before their debuts: Kareem, Koufax, Payton, Aaron, Earnhardt, Gretzky, Pele …
2: With Monday’s loss in Los Angeles, the Phillies fell to .500 this season (46-46). But at 8,810-10,001 all-time, they’ll still need to put together a 1,191-game winning streak to balance the ledger. If they go 162-0 for seven straight seasons, they would still be 57 wins under .500.
1: A Chinese official, backing Yi Jianlian, who’s upset about being drafted by Milwaukee, says he’s concerned that Yi just won’t get enough playing time with the Bucks. Right. That’s why they drafted him fifth overall — so they can sit him. Does anybody know how to say ‘transparent doofus’ in Chinese?
Permalink | Comments (33) | Categories: Jeff Schultz, Quick Hit
Davies can’t seem to get it done anymore
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
Either Bobby Cox was fooled again Monday night or he figured, “Maybe if I say this enough times, it’s going to come true.” Sort of like asking Santa for a Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model BB rifle, even if everybody tells you it’ll take your eye out.
Kyle Davies couldn’t take an eye out Monday. That’s not counting the people who may have gone blind watching him.
Five batters: three walks, two singles, two runs — and, see ya. Cox went out to get him before a sixth batter, and without a weapon, no less.
Asked later if Davies had an injury, Cox said, “Just home plate.”
Cox can usually stomach more than five batters. But when Davies walked Adam Dunn on four pitches with the bases loaded, it tested the will of a man who generally acts as a nice coat of Teflon between struggling players and the public. After all, this performance came after Cox said of Davies before the game: “He’s very close to becoming a really good pitcher.”
Which is sort of a really nice way of saying, “He ain’t there,” no matter how many times you say, think, pray or spin otherwise.
That is the Braves’ pitching rotation right now: John Smoltz (when healthy), Tim Hudson, Not There.
Davies: not there. Chuck James: not there. Mike Hampton and Mark Redman: not here or there. The shining light? At 4-2, it’s Buddy Carlyle a reclamation project by way of … Asia?
Two years ago, Davies was the future. Now he’s a head case. In 2005, he was one of three area products who saved a battered roster (along with Jeff Francoeur and Brian McCann). He went 7-6 in 14 starts.
But last season, he suffered a torn groin. This season, the injury is to the north. How else does one explain holding San Diego to a run on four hits in six innings last week, and then looking like a broken-down Len Barker the next? No Braves starter had suffered the humiliation of being pulled before recording an out — for reason other than injury — since Barker. That was 22 years ago, also against Cincinnati. He lasted 11 pitches (walk, walk, single, double).
Davies made 22 pitches. But he wasn’t twice as good. The Reds scored only twice, but Davies can thank Andruw Jones for keeping it close (for a while) in a game the Braves would eventually lose 10-3. Jones made a diving catch on a sinking liner by Javier Valentin to save two runs after Oscar Villarreal came in.
Villarreal struck out the next two batters. He looked like he might be the answer to a question. Then Ken Griffey Jr. hit a three-run homer in the second. Next?
There’s no telling what will save Davies, or if he can be saved. At 23, he’s got time. But rare is the pitcher who visits both ends of the spectrum so often.
“I’m frustrated,” Davies said. “I want to be consistent. I know I’m a whole lot better than this.”
Francoeur believes Davis is “feeling it,” as in pressure.
“The Kyle I was seeing before is the one who wasn’t timid,” he said. “He went after guys. A few times this year, I’ve seen him a little timid. I had never seen him like that. I think he feels a little pressure. There have been times when he’s gone out there and been great for three or four innings. Then maybe he walked a guy and he started getting buried, worrying about different things. The Kyle I knew before might give up a couple of hits but he wouldn’t worry about it.”
Even Cox is losing patience. Davies went 0-4 with an 8.06 ERA in a span of five starts, then looked strong against Detroit, only to implode in his next start in Los Angeles (five runs in two innings, after being given early leads of 3-1 and 6-3). “It [ticks] you off,” Cox said then. “You get six runs in the first three innings, you’ve got to win.”
This time he didn’t blow a lead. He just helped bury a team that tonight will look to rookie Jo-Jo Reyes. We can’t be certain if Reyes also is close to being a really good pitcher. But if he gets an out, he’ll be ahead of the recent curve.
‘Salty’ gets big boost from fan’s Web site
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
You read the most interesting things on the Internet, some of which might even be true. Just up and running is an advocacy Web site, the intent of which bears the growing ring of truth.
From www.startsalty.com, we read this: “Jarrod Saltalamacchia is the future of Major League Baseball.” This bears more than a passing resemblance to the prescient pronouncement rendered by critic Jon Landau in 1974: “I saw rock and roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen.”
Springsteen is from New Jersey. So is the creator of startsalty.com. Coincidence? Surely not.
Andrew Marks is 23. He graduated from Rutgers in the spring. He lives in Princeton, N.J., and has been a Braves fan for as long as he can remember. Why? Because his dad rooted for the Braves in the heyday of Eddie Mathews and does still.
Marks has other Braves he considers favorites — Chipper Jones over time, Kelly Johnson now — but when Marks saw Saltalamacchia report to the Braves in May, he said, “It just really clicked.” He familiarized himself with the spelling of the rookie’s daunting last name “by repeating it about 100 times before I’d go to sleep.”
And then, since Marks does work with both Web design and public relations, he put his vocational skills to outside use. Thus was born startsalty.com, which poses the not-unreasonable question: “Why is this kid currently 2nd tier to Scott Thorman?”
Not content just to sing Salty’s praises, startsalty.com offers a stylized rip of Thorman, who remains the Braves’ primary first baseman even though he’s batting .215 and has more strikeouts than hits. A question on the site asks: “When will Scott Thorman swing the bat without leaving his feet?” Answers range from “tomorrow” to “next baseball season” to “[when he’s] on a different team.”
The top of the page, as you’d expect, features a handsome photo of Salty. The bottom carries a doctored shot from “Titanic” with the faces of Thorman and Bobby Cox replacing the mugs of Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio. (The point being, one assumes, that the voyage in question didn’t end so well.)
Another question posed by startsalty.com: “All-Star Game. In the bottom of the ninth, if Salty was the pinch-hitter, would [Albert] Pujols still be [griping about being left on the bench]?” The most popular of the three answers, with 62 percent of the vote, is this: “No way! Salty’s grand slam would have solved the problem.”
Said Marks: “Some people have said the site looks like it was designed by a 12-year-old, but I like to represent the average person.”
Marks has never spoken to Saltalamacchia or seen him in person. “My dad and I go to the games when [the Braves] play in Philadelphia,” he said, “and we have tickets when they’re there next month — Friday and Saturday night. Nothing would make me happier than to meet him.”
Nor did Marks have any idea whether the man himself had eyeballed startsalty.com. The answer: He hadn’t before Sunday, but he has now.
Saltalamacchia isn’t a Web wizard. He has a computer for “making plane reservations” but scarcely uses it beyond that. “I can’t even turn a computer on,” he said. But viewing startsalty.com on a reporter’s laptop left him partly amused and mostly delighted. “It’s very flattering,” he said. “You play the game because you love it, but the fans make it a lot easier.”
Salty, it should be noted, indeed started Sunday — at catcher, his primary position, and not first base, where Marks would deploy him on a permanent basis — and went 1-for-3 to keep his average at .304. He might or might not be the future of Major League Baseball, but he’s already a better-looking hitter than Scott Thorman.
A lot of nutty concepts populate the Web. This one, improbably launched in the Garden State, makes too much sense to ignore. Stop the madness. Start Salty. Dot com.
Permalink | Comments (33) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Mark Bradley
Hang loose, LaRoche, payback’s coming soon
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
Adam LaRoche came back to Atlanta this weekend, and little had changed but the uniform he wore. It said “Pittsburgh” across the chest. He came within a week of becoming a local homesteader before the Braves traded him to the Pirates for a bullpen pitcher last winter. Mike Gonzalez worked 17 innings before breaking down. LaRoche hadn’t endeared himself to Pirates fans until just lately, when his batting average improved from the gutter to .241 and his home run total to 13, three in the last three days before the All-Star Game.
Adam drew quite a crowd of inquiring reporters at Turner Field before the first game of the series Friday, and some were made aware of a side of him unknown to us while he was in charge of first base here. We knew him as soft-spoken, smooth fielder, sweet swinger, and of 32-home-run power. What we didn’t know was the prankster in him. Let me tell you about it.
Late in June, the Pirates played the Marlins in a day game in Florida while the Braves flew in from Washington for a series. Their uniforms and other trappings had already arrived and were hung in their assigned lockers at the Marlins’ ball park. Before the Pirates checked out, LaRoche fetched some scissors and cut the crotch out of every pair of underpants in the Braves lockers, and left a note behind that said, “Let it all hang out, fellas.”
He may as well have left his calling card.
“Any reprisal yet?” he was asked.
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m guess I’m sitting on a ticking bomb.”
“A reprisal, oh, yes,” Bill Acree, the Braves’ travel and equipment chief, said. “He may not have it yet, but the bill is in the mail.”
The LaRoche-for-Gonzalez deal set off quite a commotion in some quarters here. Carefully incubated in the farm system, and after hitting a solid .285, punctuated by 32 home runs and 90 runs batted in, the Braves had finally filled a gap at first base, where oftimes they had resorted to the ancient Julio Franco.
“My wife and I were just a week before closing a deal for a new house,” LaRoche said. He got the news when somebody called him on his cellphone. “I’d heard rumors, but nothing more. That’s the way it is. It’s all part of the game.”
He got a full whammy of the other side of it in his first stretch in Pittsburgh. He couldn’t hit his weight, and the home runs weren’t coming. He is known for his defensive lapses, and that followed him. Sometimes it appears his mind is in another time zone, as in a game last season when he fielded Nick Johnson’s sacrifice and casually loped toward first base, only to be beaten to the bag by the Nationals first baseman, who is no sprinter.
Trading the farm-bred first baseman, the first security the Braves had known at the bag since Andres Galarraga, for a one-inning pitcher aroused cynics from various latitudes. And the situation hasn’t improved. The Braves reached into free agency and signed Craig Wilson, let loose by the Pirates. Last heard from, he was having a struggle in Triple-A. He was to be the buffer until Scott Thorman got a grip on his game, but Thorman nearly swings all the air out of the ball park. The Braves point to Brent Lillibridge, a shortstop throw-in on the LaRoche deal, as a prize catch. Probable successor to Edgar Renteria? Hardly, not since Yunel Escobar got off the boat.
“You got to learn to roll with the punches in this game,” LaRoche said.
Growing up in a baseball family, he should be acclimated to it. His pitching father, Dave LaRoche, moved six times in his 14-year career. There aren’t many Chipper Joneses who play out a career with the same team in the major leagues in this era. Both Joneses, Chipper and Andruw, are unique in that respect, but Andruw’s name flows freely in the rumor stream now because (1) he’s in the last year of his Braves contract, and (2) his agent is the diabolical Scott Boras. LaRoche never had such leverage, except with scissors in hand.
Permalink | Comments (23) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Furman Bisher
Time for Pollack to drop football
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
Sometimes, they can’t see the end. Sometimes, the gifts that had carried them erode and descend to mere mortal levels. Or injuries suddenly interrupt the natural order or things. But great athletes — sometimes they can’t see it.
They don’t look at the tape. Or the stopwatch. Or the X-rays.
The invincibility gene tells them: “They doubted you before. Show them it’s not over.”
David Pollack will not play football this year. Medical logical says he’ll probably never play again. Pollack doesn’t see that end, but don’t be surprised. It’s residue of the same character traits that enabled him to get as far as he did.
He hated hearing how he was a classic overachiever, even if he was, because it came off as a back-hand at his athletic ability. But he was recruited to Georgia as an ordinary fullback. Mark Richt’s assessment: a good “program player.” Might as well have called him a kicking tee.
Four years later, Pollack left as the most embraced athlete in Athens since Herschel. He was a three-time All-American on defense, not because he looked like or ran like a lab experiment, but because his energy and enthusiasm and sense for the game seemed unparalleled.
“We still show highlights of him in meetings,” Georgia defensive coordinator Willie Martinez said. “When you want to talk to a player about work ethic or technique or anything, it’s easy enough to just pop in a tape and say, ‘Here’s how to do it. Here’s how David Pollack did it.’ “
Sometimes, they can’t see the end.
Sometimes, they’re not looking.
Ten months ago, Pollack suffered a broken neck. If he delivered the mail, resuming his career might not be out of the question. But the play that caused the injury, a tackle on Cleveland running back Reuben Droughns, was nothing extraordinary by NFL or David Pollack standards. Trying to come back against all odds to make that same tackle and others like it makes no sense. This is life we’re talking about.
The Cincinnati Bengals announced Friday that Pollack would not play this season because, not surprisingly, his recovery from January surgery to repair the fractured C6 vertebra, wasn’t satisfactory to play linebacker in the NFL. Pollack acknowledged as much in his statement, but said: “Any final decision on football is still down the road for me.”
Let’s hope he eventually sees the stop sign.
Martinez saw Pollack at the Bulldogs’ spring game and two weeks ago at a fundraiser. “You would have never known anything was wrong with him,” he said. “You couldn’t tell he had surgery on his neck by the way he was carrying himself. He still had the same positive outlook on life.”
The two didn’t speak about the player’s future, but Martinez said: “I would never say never to David Pollack. I’ve seen him overcome the statements and opinions. He knows what he wants and we’ve seen what happens when he puts his mind to something. I’m sure he’ll be smart about things.
“He’s obviously a very driven person. It can’t be easy for a guy like that to walk away, if that’s what it comes to. But he’ll do what’s best for him and his family. He’s a smart guy and a man of faith. That hasn’t changed. That’s the David Pollack I know.”
This isn’t about money. Pollack’s $12.95 million rookie contract had $7.65 million in guarantees. If he wanted to, he could go into coach. Or run for mayor of Athens.
His career was far greater than expected in college. His career may be far shorter than expected in the NFL. But sometimes will and desire and attitude take you only so far. Sometimes you have to get past the ego, past the I’ll-show-you attitude, past the athletic arrogance that helped carry you in the past.
It’s that time for David Pollack. If he doesn’t see it, maybe it’s because he’s not looking.
Permalink | Comments (132) | Categories: Jeff Schultz, UGA / SEC
Moves by Mets reek with panic
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
If a blink can make a sound, that sound you heard Thursday was the Mets blinking. A first-place team fired its hitting coach and added to its staff one of the biggest Me-Firsters in the long history of baseball. A first-place team sought to quiet its recent palpitations by adding the calming influence of … Rickey Henderson?
Never mind that Henderson has never coached. Never mind that his contributions to the epic Braves-Mets 1999 NLCS were limited to exiting Game 2 in the second inning — an upset stomach was the reason given, though there were howls throughout the press box when the diagnosis was announced — and by allegedly retiring to the clubhouse to play cards with Bobby Bonilla while their Met mates were blowing late leads in the climactic Game 6.
The same Henderson was introduced Friday as the Mets’ new first-base coach. (Howard Johnson, who used to coach first base, is now the hitting instructor, replacing Rick Down.) If nothing else, Henderson’s presence should assure the Mets of always having a fourth for bridge. Beyond that, it’s hard to know what fueled Omar Minaya’s decision — manager Willie Randolph made it clear the GM had acted unilaterally — beyond a bizarre sense of panic.
Meanwhile, here in Atlanta, all is calm. Serene, even.
The Braves reopened for business Friday feeling really swell. “I thought we might be in first place, to be honest,” Bobby Cox said, and soon his team would draw within 1 1/2 games of the Mets by beating Pittsburgh while New York was losing to Cincinnati. And if you can’t be on top, running a close second to a leader so shaky it has turned to Rickey Henderson is surely the next-best thing.
It has become fashionable, at least in some shortsighted circles, to characterize the Braves as being too businesslike. If the alternative is hiring Rickey Henderson, then here’s to the bean-counters. Say what you will about this organization, but it never gets rattled, never makes a move just for the sake of generating some motion.
Said John Schuerholz, speaking of himself and Cox, each on the far side of 65: “We’re too old to panic.”
There’s a good chance the Braves will trade for a starting pitcher before the month is out. (Indeed, Schuerholz had a list of possible deals written on an index card, which he declined to make available to the media.) There’s no chance such a trade will be made in haste. These are the staid Braves, not the kneejerk Mets.
Every potential trade partner asks about Jarrod Saltalamacchia and Yunel Escobar, of whom Schuerholz said: “Those two guys are known to be two of the finest young players in the game.” Of Salty in particular: “I don’t have any intention of trading him.”
One more starting pitcher, Schuerholz conceded, could tip the balance of the NL East. The Mets are also looking hard, and so are the Phillies. “But it has to be one more properly talented starting pitcher,” he said. “Not just one more pitcher.”
Even if the Braves stand pat, Schuerholz likes this about his team: “Our guys have played very well against [the Mets]. Our guys know that, and the Mets know that.”
There is, however, one tweak this team might make involving a former Brave who just became a former Met. Julio Franco was released Thursday. “We like Julio,” Schuerholz said. “We like the impact he had in our clubhouse. There’s interest there, yes.”
The Mets just brought Rickey Henderson into their clubhouse and ushered Franco out. The Braves would welcome the latter back in some capacity and would never in a million years employ Rickey Henderson. That’s why the Braves became the Braves, and it’s why the Mets, for all their talent and money, are starting to look like their silly old selves.
Permalink | Comments (126) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Mark Bradley
Force’s Plank proves he can coach
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
The man was spreading mayonnaise on a Whopper when he suddenly thought, “You know, there’s more to life than this.”
Now, I’m fairly certain Sid Gillman wasn’t dropping fries when he thought, “Hmmm, the forward pass.” But everybody evolves in their own way.
This is indoor football. Most consider it a mind-numbing, genetic mutation between sport and pinball. But if you can get past that, one thing has become abundantly clear: Doug Plank can coach.
In three seasons running the Georgia Force, your Arena league entry, Plank is 37-17, including playoffs. His team is a win away from reaching the league championship game for the second time in three years. He was just named coach of the year for the second time. And coaching is coaching.
I tell you this because there’s a decent chance Doug Plank will be gone before anybody ever realized he lived or worked here.
He acknowledges there have been coaching feelers from elsewhere. He acknowledges even a position coaching offer in the NFL would be tempting. Any Arena league player would leap at a chance to coach in the NFL, and it’s no different for a coach. It’s a step up.
“Having been in the NFL,” he said, “I understand the hierarchy in football.”
One day you’re managing minimum-waged burger-flippers. The next day you’re drawing up a playbook. Sort of takes the luster off that whole “coaching genius” concept, doesn’t it?
“It sounds crazy, but those same skills that I had when I was at Burger King, I used when I became a coach,” Plank said. “It’s all coaching. It’s just not called coaching. It’s managing people. It has the same fundamentals in terms of trying to motivate and inspire. The bottom line is you’re really just a salesman. You’re trying to sell your philosophies to your employees or your players.”
Plank knows real football. He played real football. He grew up and played high school ball in Western Pennsylvania. Then Ohio State. Then the Chicago Bears. He was a smart, overachieving safety in Buddy Ryan’s 46 defense (named for Plank’s jersey number). He hit hard. He tucked smelling salts in his pants’ waistband, just to have them handy if he got knocked dizzy.
But after eight seasons, he was toast. “A hundred tackles a season for eight years — that’s like 800 train wrecks,” he said.
His body told him to quit. His head didn’t debate the subject.
Multiple concussions. Five knee surgeries. A spinal concussion that to this day has left his left leg partially numb. He admits becoming “very disenchanted with football. I wanted to get as far from it as I could.”
So he traded physical anguish for mental. He operated 22 Burger Kings in three states over a 20-year span, and as many as 13 at once. The restaurants were open 20 hours a day, seven days a week, 363 days a year. (Quoting: “I’m one of the few people who can say they’ve made more sandwiches than their mother.”)
The restaurants took over his life. Then came just another work day, an intended drive from his home in Scottsdale, Ariz., to the lunch rush in Tempe. Plank tuned on the car radio. He heard the NFL’s Cardinals were naming Ryan their new head coach. He decided to take a detour to offer congratulations. That turned into a career detour. At the news conference, he was asked to be on pre- and post-game shows. That led to other broadcasting jobs. That led former Dallas quarterback Danny White, then coach of the Arizona Rattlers, to ask him if he wanted to get into coaching.
Plank said no. But he thought about it. Then, a month later: “I had this epiphany at the restaurant while I was spreading mayonnaise.” Enough with the condiments.
Three years as Arizona’s defensive coordinator and three Arena Bowl appearances led to his hiring by the Force. This coaching job almost certainly will lead to another.
“I know in my heart I can do this,” he said.
He says he’s 5 feet 10. Swears he used to be 5-11 3/4. Something about age and tackles and compressed bones.
He has occasional memory loss, but joked, “I’m no different than anybody in their 50s who walks into a room and thinks, ‘Why am I here?’ “
Fortunately, that doesn’t happen when he walks into a locker room. Plank knows why he’s there. No more mayo-infused epiphanies are needed.
Permalink | Comments (13) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Jeff Schultz
No. 756? Better be there, Bud
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Bud Selig is a third-rate commissioner and a first-class ditherer. This week he told a meeting of the Baseball Writers Association of America he had “made no decision yet” as to whether he’ll pay personal witness to Barry Bonds’ attempt to hit No. 756.
Bonds, as you may have heard, has 751 home runs. Why is Blundering Bud still uncertain? Quoth the commish: “I said I’d [decide] at the appropriate time, and I’ll determine what the appropriate time is.”
And then this: “This is very personal, very sensitive, and I don’t feel comfortable talking about it.”
The commish doesn’t feel comfortable talking about the biggest issue in baseball, which is precisely how Bonds — and whether or not he used steroids — became the biggest issue in baseball. Because the sport and its silly guardian chose to ignore what was happening in the ’90s, choosing blissful ignorance over reasonable suspicion when Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa launched their assault on Roger Maris’ record. Instead Bud and baseball simply rode the giddy moment and let teams bank the gate receipts from the great chase of 1998, and now the bill has come due.
Barry Bonds has never tested positive for steroids. Barry Bonds has never been suspended for circumventing the rules of the game. Barry Bonds remains eligible to play and for his statistical achievements to be tabulated. How could Bud Selig possibly ignore this by not showing up for No. 756?
Bowie Kuhn was elsewhere when Hank Aaron hit No. 715, and the sport has spent the last 30 years trying to apologize. Imagine how it will play among African-Americans, an audience baseball keeps saying it is trying to cultivate, if Bud stiffs Bonds nine years after he conspicuously lauded McGwire, who’s white, and Sosa, who’s from the Dominican Republic.
And what if it’s never proved that Bonds used steroids? What if all we’re left with is raging suspicion? Would that be enough to give the “very sensitive” commissioner a pass on attendance? No, it won’t. Which is why Blundering Bud has to grit his teeth and be there. Otherwise he’ll be admitting what no commissioner can ever afford to admit: That what he calls “the most hallowed record” in his precious sport is bogus.
Permalink | Comments (103) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Mark Bradley, Quick Hit
Hawks’ Landlord may be evicted
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
It’s too late now, Shelden Williams having already taken ownership of a house here, but my advice to the man known as the Landlord would have been: Rent, don’t buy.
Last year’s top Hawks draftee figures to be squeezed by this year’s top draftee. Going on minutes per game, Williams was the team’s ninth man last season. With the arrival of Al Horford, the minutes stand to shrink, not grow.
Williams says he doesn’t see it that way, but it’s hard to imagine how else this roster will shake out. Josh Smith plays power forward, and he’s a budding star. Zaza Pachulia plays center, and he’s taller and stronger than Williams, who’s listed as 6-foot-9 but who seems closer to 6-7. Horford will play both spots, which is what Williams does, only the new man will play them bigger and better. So that leaves the Landlord … where? Facing foreclosure?
It has been a weird 13 months for Williams, who was a first-team All-American for the famous Duke Blue Devils but who was widely viewed as the biggest reach of the 2006 draft. The Hawks made him the No. 5 pick even though Brandon Roy and Randy Foye were available. Today, some of the same voices around the organization who defend Billy Knight for taking Marvin Williams over Chris Paul and Deron Williams in 2005 concede they don’t yet know what the GM saw in Shelden Williams.
His rookie season wasn’t a disaster — he averaged 5.5 points and 5.4 rebounds — but it had a peculiar shape. He played a lot early because guys were hurt. Then he worked a total of 105 minutes in 14 February games. Then he played more at the end and was even named the Eastern Conference’s rookie of the month for April. At no time, however, did he justify his lofty draft position. He scored because he got fouled a lot, not because he was an accomplished finisher. (Salim Stoudamire played 460 fewer minutes and made 11 more baskets.)
“It was a different system,” Williams says, and he’s right about that. “At Duke, I was the only guy inside. A lot of plays ran through me.”
And as a pro? “I had to be more of an energy guy, rebounding and playing defense … It was different. I’d been playing pretty much the whole game all my life.”
He was speaking after a morning workout at Philips Arena in preparation for the Hawks’ summer league games in Utah. Even with Horford on the court, Williams had acquitted himself well. He’d run hard and blocked shots and gotten fouled a lot. There’s a place for him on an NBA roster. It just mightn’t be on this one.
Williams seems a vivid case study of the collegiate star who’s simply not talented enough to be much more than a professional role-filler. (Horford, by way of contrast, should be a bigger star in the NBA than he was at Florida.) Williams is smart and earnest, but he’s not big enough to be a pro center and not forceful enough to make an impact at power forward. He is, to put it bluntly, just another guy.
His fiancée, however, isn’t just another woman. Candace Parker was the MVP of the 2007 Final Four after leading Tennessee to the NCAA title. She’ll be a junior this fall, and she’s scheduled to be a bride in September 2008. (The nuptials will take place in Atlanta.) Her betrothed spent most of this summer in Knoxville, which Williams says is a nice enough town but not as nice as Durham, N.C., which is where the two met when Parker took a recruiting visit to Duke.
We can all hope the Parker-Williams partnership will be a long and happy one. The marriage of Williams and the Hawks, alas, could soon be subject to dissolution. With 10 forwards/swingmen on the roster, somebody has to get traded. Given that you’d like the No. 5 player in a given draft to be something more than just another guy, the Landlord’s lease might not have long to run.
Permalink | Comments (89) | Categories: Hawks / NBA, Mark Bradley
Hawks GM should get a grip
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
Let’s see. If I’m running a professional sports team, and if I had a coach, manager, player, ballboy, secretary, janitor or anybody else who really didn’t want to work for me, I’d let that person go.
Unless …
I’m still thinking.
Uh, I’m still thinking.
What is Billy Knight thinking?
Knight is the Hawks’ general manager, and two of his assistant coaches, Larry Drew and David Fizdale, wish to skip the final year of their Hawks contracts to do the same thing elsewhere. It’s America, and they have that right, don’t they?
The thing is, it’s America, and folks also have to honor their contracts, according to Knight. Nobody forced Drew and Fizdale to agree to a three-year deal to work under Hawks coach Mike Woodson. As a result, Knight said that he won’t allow Drew to make a lateral move to the Sacramento Kings or Fizdale to make a lateral move to the Cleveland Cavaliers.
“I know in most cases around the NBA this is not the normal practice, but this is how we’re going to handle it,” Knight told our Sekou Smith. That means Knight could have a couple of assistant coaches fuming on the bench for the Hawks this season. To which Knight told Smith, “I’m not worried about it. These guys are professionals, and they are good guys … “
They’re also human. When you’re physically in one place, and you’re mentally in another, that’s not good for you or for your current employers.
Let them go, Billy.
That’s what I’m thinking.
Permalink | Comments (75) | Categories: Hawks / NBA, Quick Hit, Terence Moore
Take Braves in this tight race
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
The surprising Buddy Carlyle notwithstanding, the Braves’ starting pitching beyond John Smoltz, Tim Hudson and Chuck James is a mess. Suddenly, closer Bob Wickman is more of a question mark than an exclamation point. Speaking of Smoltz, he joins Chipper Jones as Cooperstown guys who also may qualify for the Hall of Fame of aches and pains.
Can Smoltz and Jones stay healthy in the second half of the season?
Don’t know.
What we do know is that, despite the Braves’ various issues, they have a lot of everything else. That includes a surging Andruw Jones at the plate (finally) and the great Bobby Cox in the dugout. It’s a combination that will keep the Braves near or at the top of the National League East beyond the summer. As a result, the Mets will have to do something they didn’t have to do last season when they exploded down the stretch to end the Braves’ record streak of division titles at 14.
The Mets will have to defeat the Braves during a tight race.
Take the Braves. In case you’re wondering, the Philadelphia Phillies aren’t worthy of this discussion. They haven’t the pitching. And, like the Mets, the Phillies haven’t Smoltz, the two Joneses and Cox, who have been there and done that regarding the winning of tight races.
You had the Braves snatching the NL East by a game over the Mets in 2000. Just so you know, none of these Mets were part of those Mets. The following year, no more than three games separated the Braves and the Phillies from late June to the last game of the season when the Braves solidified their title with a 20-3 blowout of the Florida Marlins. In 2005, the Braves held off the Phillies again by two games with 18 rookies. There also was 1991, when Smoltz and Cox were around to help the Braves shock the Los Angeles Dodgers for that worst-to-first miracle. Two years later, the Braves ended what was called The Last Great Pennant Race with 104 victories to the San Francisco Giants’ 103.
Here’s the point: Since nobody on the Mets’ current roster has been in a tight race while playing for the Mets, how would these Mets react to the Braves nipping at their cleats in October? “That’s a good question, and I don’t know,” Tom Glavine said earlier this season at Turner Field as the definitive person for the question. For one, he has pitched for the Mets since leaving the Braves in 2002 after 15 seasons of tight, loose and no races. For another, he discovered in New York that the Braves always are on the Mets’ minds.
“When we came down here and had that good series against them last year, I think we kind of felt like we put all of that to bed,” said Glavine, recalling how the Mets took five of six games from the Braves from late July into early September.
Thing is, the pressure is negligible for teams in early September compared to late September, and the Braves spent last year stumbling toward finishing 18 games out of first place. That won’t happen this time for the Braves. In addition to battling the Braves in late September, the Mets will be battling high expectations.
With Cox among those saying the Mets have “an American League lineup,” they were supposed to bash their way into October. It hasn’t happened with the offensive struggles of the two Carloses (Delgado and Beltran) and the inconsistency of David Wright. The bullpen is solid with closer Billy Wagner, but the Mets’ starting pitching is as shaky as advertised. Glavine and Orlando Hernandez are fossils showing their age, and after a nice first half, Jorge Sosa and Oliver Perez are on the disabled list. Pedro Martinez is slated to return from shoulder surgery in August, but who knows if he’ll be Pedro Martinez?
Thus we’ll have the flawed Braves against the flawed Mets.
Take the Braves, all right, because they’ve been less flawed in crunch time than anybody since 1991.
We’re talking only about the regular season, of course.
Permalink | Comments (65) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Terence Moore
Dogs or Jackets? Too soon to sweat
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
Holy cats! We’ve barely made it past the Major League All-Star Game, haven’t even played the British Open yet, or opened the season at Saratoga, and Georgia has already whipped Georgia Tech. On paper.
And they don’t play until Nov. 24. Just check Mark Bradley’s column. When Bradley speaks, people snap to attention, and he says it’s the Dawgs over the Jackets already. It takes guts. I had guts when I was younger and vigorous-er. I gaze into the future now with caution, and, frankly, haven’t arrived at any conviction about the Georgia-Georgia Tech game this soon. I’d say this, that it’s the better part of discretion to anger the Jackets than it is the Dawgs.
No reason I shouldn’t. Phil Steele’s annual football preview hit my desk the other day, and I’m now armed with all anybody needs to know about college football in the United States in the year 2007. I don’t know Phil Steele. He works out of Cleveland. Has a staff of, I think, 30 some. He uses a lot of small type and crams more stuff into 328 pages than Sears Roebuck used to put in a catalog.
I don’t know that I needed his help, but it is nice when somebody who makes a living doing this stuff agrees with me. Phil nominates Georgia as his sixth surprise team of the season. No. 11 in the nation. Also picks the Dawgs to win the SEC East. You have to run a long way down the line to find Georgia Tech. Forty-second, between Auburn and Illinois. That should be a shock to Auburn.
I can’t buy that, that there will be 41 teams better than Georgia Tech. There are some stars coming back, Adamm Oliver, Darryl Richard, Philip Wheeler, Andrew Gardner and Tashard Choice. The Jackets suffered a loss, though, that leaves a gaping hole in their offense. Calvin Johnson took early retirement, and Tech had never had an offensive threat like him in my time. On the other hand, consider this: Reggie Ball is gone, and with him goes a mystery for which none of us has an answer.
Ball broke in at Grant Field with a rousing performance at quarterback. He beat Auburn. It came out of the blue. He had Florida State on the ropes at Tallahassee. That’s all pretty good, but it never got any better. Four years later he was still trying to find what he had lost along the way. Instead of building on that glorious opening, he was playing more like a freshman than a senior at the end.
All the while, Taylor Bennett stood along the sideline. The one game he had started, he kept the ship afloat against Connecticut. Ball was hurt. The next time Bennett got to start would have been Ball’s last game, but Ball was academically ineligible. Bennett had a dazzling day in the Gator Bowl. So did Calvin Johnson. Georgia Tech hadn’t seen a passing combination like that since Joe Hamilton and Harvey Middleton. And all of us, from the least inquisitive alumna to the most rabid man in the stands, begged the question: Why had they not seen more of Taylor Bennett? When Ball was crashing — and oh, how many crashes he had, not the most crucial of which was losing count of the downs and making a throwaway pass against Georgia — why not Bennett? On and on it went, until in the Gator Bowl they saw what might have been.
Now Bennett gets his shot, but his best target will be in Detroit. It breaks your heart to imagine what a battery Bennett and Johnson could have been, and why Chan Gailey stubbornly stuck with Ball, who was better when he got there than when he left.
Offhand, you’d have to say that it’s likely Larry Munson’s last season at Georgia will be more enjoyable than Wes Durham’s season at Tech. Munson, who wouldn’t know a “hobnail boot” from a snowshoe, by his own admission, but Durham who would, being one of us Tar Heel countrymen. And you’d have to go along with Bradley, but in the heat of the summer, isn’t it rushing the season a bit? I don’t like to mix sweat and football.
Permalink | Comments (159) | Categories: Furman Bisher, Tech / ACC, UGA / SEC
Braves have done everything but vanish
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Somebody up there likes them. How else to explain the Braves, who have played under .500 over the past 12 1/2 weeks, finding themselves only two games back at the All-Star break? How else to explain them being within sight of a team that has outpitched and outfielded them and had, for most of the season, outhit them as well?
The Braves should be feeling good about themselves. They’ve had injuries (Mike Hampton, Lance Cormier, Mike Gonzalez, Chipper Jones) and washouts (Mark Redman, Ryan Langerhans, Craig Wilson) and no-shows (Willy Aybar) and a slump of epic proportion (you know who), and they’re one good series from leading the NL East. Were you-know-who hitting .241 instead of .211, they’d be ahead now. They’ve had a hundred things go wrong and not a lot go right, and they’re actually a bit ahead of where Bobby Cox says a team needs to be.
The Cox formula: “As long as you’re around .500 at the All-Star break, you’ve got a chance.”
In 1991 the Braves were 39-40 at the break and won the first of those 14 consecutive division titles. In 2004 they were below .500 on the Fourth of July and won their division by 10 games. These Braves were 38-38 on the morning of June 25; they’re 9-4 since. They still don’t look like a playoff team to these eyes — too many holes in the rotation and in the batting order — but honesty compels me to note that the Mets aren’t looking like one, either.
The Mets have lost 27 of their past 54 and are 14-21 since May 31. They broke for their holiday telling reporters how “lucky” they feel to be leading the East, but you have to wonder if such sentiments represent the truth. This race could have and probably should have been settled by now. Instead the Mets have allowed the Braves — and the Phillies, sort of — to hang around.
History teaches that opponents who let the Braves linger wind up kicking themselves. On cue, manager Willie Randolph has already given in to frustration at least once: He has admitted he threw a chair and broke a door in the manager’s office at Dodger Stadium last month.
His team, which looks armor-plated on paper, has sprung leaks of its own. Carlos Delgado has been nearly as bad as Andruw Jones. (Actually, Jones has more RBIs.) Hot prospect Mike Pelfrey has been worse than Kyle Davies. (Pelfrey has started eight games; he’s 0-7.) Paul Lo Duca has fewer RBIs than Scott Thorman. (And Thorman hasn’t done much.) Even the most un-Braves-like moment of the season — John Smoltz questioning Chipper Jones’ commitment — was matched by a Mets lapse. (Jose Reyes didn’t run out a grounder in Friday’s game and was pulled by Randolph.)
There is, however, a massive difference among the similarities: The Mets have the National League’s biggest payroll; the Braves rank eighth among 16 NL teams. The Braves, give or take a few games, are where they ought to be. The Mets should be much better. Give Cox that roster and that payroll and he’d be six games in front.
The Mets should still win the division, but the longer the Braves stick around the harder it will get for the New Yorkers, who must deal with the tabloids and the vacuum that will spring from the Yankees being lousy. Everyone around the Mets expects them to trade for a starting pitcher, but news that Mark Buehrle has re-upped in Chicago means they won’t be getting him, either.
Before you accuse me of egregious flip-flopping, let’s be clear: I haven’t regarded these Braves as anything special and still don’t. Barring a trade of major impact, I can’t envision them winning 90 games. But the Mets are on pace to win only 89, and that surprises me. I imagine it surprises Omar Minaya, the general manager labeled “Mix Master” by Sports Illustrated, even more.
Permalink | Comments (79) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Mark Bradley
Bonds will get cheers on road for 756
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
The odds are that Barry Bonds will join Hank Aaron with 755 home runs by the end of the month. Plus, given how the schedule is flowing, the San Francisco Giants slugger could rip his tying blast and maybe the record-breaker in Chicago or Milwaukee.
That’s opposed to northern California, where the hometown fans have been among the few to suggest they’d rather hug the Giants slugger than choke him.
Here’s a prediction, though: A universal hug for Bonds is coming.
All you need to know is that, if Bonds does create history on the road with a blast or two, that ballpark not named for AT&T will rock as much as if the Golden Gate Bridge were nearby. Those inside will forget that Bonds is supposedly the Great Satan of baseball’s steroid era, and they will stand, cheer and applaud as loudly as if Bonds were one of their own.
“Well, you may be right about that,” said Aaron, who should know. “Generally, when you’re in that situation of [achieving immortality on the road], that’s true.”
What’s true is that people cheer the moment more than the individual. Such was the case for Aaron 33 years ago, when he had it significantly worse than Bonds. While Bonds is an African-American chasing the record of another African-American, Aaron was turning “714” into yesterday’s magic number, and the old mark belonged to Babe Ruth, an icon of white America.
Only the hate mail for Aaron was greater than the death threats. He also was forced to battle the combination of racists and pitchers during a time when the Civil Rights Act was barely a decade old.
So there was Aaron, opening the 1974 season with the Braves just one home run shy of Ruth’s record in Cincinnati of all places. We’re talking about the same city that pounded Jackie Robinson with racial slurs during his first road trip with the Brooklyn Dodgers. We’re talking about the same city that was so provincial that former Reds president Dick Wagner had a rule barring stadium officials from mentioning the achievements of opposing players — even those who once played for the Reds.
We’re talking about the same city that exploded with joy after Aaron lined a shot over the left-field wall of Riverfront Stadium during the first inning.
“Going into that game, I never thought about it, really, about how [the Cincinnati fans] might react, and then, after I tied the record, all of those fans were as jubilant as the fans would have been if I had hit it in Atlanta,” Aaron said. “Despite all the [hate mail and death threats] that I was receiving, I had thousands of people at the time who were on my side.”
This isn’t to say Aaron was completely fearless back then regarding the public, especially on the road. “I always thought the safest place for me, no matter what I was doing, was on a baseball field,” said Aaron, who had extra security for himself and his family during the Ruth chase from the commissioner’s office, the Braves and local authorities. “I always felt very protected, like nothing ever was going to happen to me on a baseball field.
“Still, you never know about somebody just being an outright nut. Most of the time, they can’t get to the field, but you have to be careful just going from your house to the car, or from the car to the grocery store. You never know what somebody might do. You always have some nut in a crowd who wants to make headlines.”
There was last month, for instance, when a guy trotted into left field in San Francisco to shake Bonds’ hands. Turns out, the guy wasn’t a threat, but it showed what a nut could do. Aaron sighed, saying, “I had somebody in Chicago [during the Ruth chase], and I don’t know what he said, but he did come up to me, and those who heard his words said they were derogatory.”
Then Aaron chuckled, adding, “Hey, it didn’t matter. I was safe. You had that one guy out there, and I was getting on the team bus with a lot of friends.”
Permalink | Comments (31) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Terence Moore
It’s a gimme: Jackets won’t outclass Dogs
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Perhaps you saw the “Gimme 5” in which an editor of Athlon Sports listed five reasons why Georgia Tech (which Athlon ranks No. 14) will have a better season than Georgia (No. 16.) Perhaps you even agreed. If so, you’re wrong. Tech won’t be better, nor will it beat Georgia on Nov. 24. Here are 20 reasons why:
1. Chan Gailey: Pretty fair coach. Mark Richt: Really good coach.
2. Georgia’s No. 1 quarterback beat out three teammates for the job. Tech’s No. 1 quarterback couldn’t beat out Reggie Ball.
3. Last season should have been Georgia’s worst under Richt, and the Bulldogs still won nine games and finished in the AP Top 25.
4. Last season should have been Tech’s best under Gailey, and the Jackets still lost five games and finished out of the AP Top 25.
5. Chan Gailey: 0-5 against Georgia. Mark Richt: 6-0 against Tech.
6. Tech is welcoming what is believed to be a fine recruiting class. Georgia welcomes what is believed to be a fine recruiting class every single August.
7. For all the fuss made over Jon Tenuta’s defense, it should be noted that the Georgia D, coached by the unappreciated Willie Martinez, finished ahead of Tech last season in total defense, scoring defense, pass defense and turnovers created.
8. Tashard Choice is one of the nation’s best backs. Kregg Lumpkin will become one of the nation’s best backs when Georgia finally decides to keep giving him the ball.
9. Uga VI is always happy to pose for photographs. The Rambling Wreck has gotten camera-shy.
10. Chan Gailey: Respected more by NFL teams than by his carping constituency. Mark Richt: Beloved throughout Bulldog Nation.
11. Tech people believe the absence of Ball will constitute addition by subtraction. What Tech people haven’t fully grasped is that the absence of Calvin Johnson will constitute subtraction by subtraction.
12. The last Georgia coach to lose to Tech was fired nine days later. Talk about motivation to keep winning.
13. The last Tech coach to beat Georgia was largely responsible for all those new seats atop Bobby Dodd Stadium, for which Bulldogs fans are most grateful one Saturday every two years.
14. Tech has a new offensive coordinator in John Bond, who’s replacing Patrick Nix. Georgia has a new offensive coordinator in Mike Bobo, who’s essentially replacing Mark Richt. Point and counterpoint.
15. Chan Gailey: Has taken Tech to one ACC title game, where it managed two field goals. Mark Richt: Has taken Georgia to three SEC title games, where it managed two championships.
16. The SEC is the nation’s best football conference. The ACC might be the fifth best.
17. If Ball was as terrible as Tech fans now believe, how’d he win 29 games? And how come his coach never noticed?
18. This could well be Larry Munson’s last season. Would fate be so cruel as to allow the King of Worry to have all fears realized just as he bids farewell?
19. Chan Gailey: Has played Georgia five times and has seen his teams score a total of 56 points. Mark Richt: Saw his team score 51 points the first time it faced Gailey’s team.
20. I picked Tech over Georgia last year and was somewhat incorrect. I now feel about the Jackets beating the Bulldogs the way I used to feel about the Braves not winning the NL East: I’ll believe it only when I see it. I don’t expect to see it anytime soon.
Permalink | Comments (348) | Categories: Mark Bradley, Tech / ACC, UGA / SEC
Sports climate alters in flash
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
Let’s see, where were we? Has it been that long? The Braves were on a winning streak, a change of face from a year ago. The Hawks had just drafted Al Horford and Acie Law. Don’t laugh, they could become household names, like Raid and Crisco in no time. The tragedy of Chris Benoit, the “Canadian Crippler” — now there’s a loving tribute for his headstone — was just beginning to sink in. Mike Hargrove was still managing the Seattle Mariners — there’s one for the mystery book. The Buick Open was playing on with Tiger in absentia, except for his commercials. Know something? If he ever gives up golf, the guy has an acting career out there. Another thing — there is so much speculation about how fatherhood may affect his game, what about the LPGA mamas who are actually on the production line?
And on and on it went, while I lolled away on an island in the tropics. (Well, St. Simons is the next best thing, except for the taxes.) Mainly, my time was absorbed in a study of the invasion of the American sports scene. Just check the American League All-Star team: The two Rodriguezes, Ortiz, Polanco, Jeter, Guerrero, Ordonez and Suzuki. Only Derek Jeter home-grown. Alex Rodriguez was born here, but of Dominican Republic parents, and in that World Classic thing, he played for his parental country.
Now, we move to golf, gifted to us by Scottish shepherds, but now slipping out of our grip. An Argentine is our U.S. Men’s champion, Angel Cabrera — and have you noticed the outbreak of Cabreras in our many games? It was almost ordained that one of the army of Korean girls would win the Women’s championship, a Kim, a Park or a Pak. No Swede this year, for Annika Sorenstam’s game is in recovery. With all those Kims in there, how could it not be? On some days there’ll be the names of around 20 Kims in the daily scores of the LPGA. Only seven made the cut at Pine Needles. The highest finisher was Mi Hyun Kim, who tied at eighth. Then there were the Parks, the Paks, the Songs, the Ahns, the Yang and the Kang and a Choi, no kin, probably, to K.J., who won the Nicklaus tournament at Muirfield. The Koreans’ Kim and Choi are to them as our Smith and Jones. They’re rolling them out of their finishing school in South Korea like cars off the production line in Detroit.
We’re closing in on the hallowed FedExCup cut line, and Woods is in the lead, but which Cup? NASCAR or PGA? The Tour is sparing nothing to keep its Cup out front, noisily promoting its standings over earnings. Maybe I missed something along the line, but what happens to the players who get cut in the four tournaments leading up to the Tour Championship, which amounts to a 30-man playoff?
These days haven’t been wasted. I’ve given heavy study to things I like and don’t like about golf as televised. When I check the leaderboard and find a cast of LaBelle, Barlow, Goggin, Lickliter, Na and Wi, I turn on. When I see the camera line up on Jim Furyk, I know I have time to head to the water closet while he goes through his setup the usual three times. And the caddie who squats behind his player lining up a putt, which he usually misses. And one more, while I’m on this kick: For God’s sake, why does a full-grown pro no more than two feet from the hole have to mark his ball?
Going into the home stretch, with AT&T now ponying up for Tiger’s Washington tournament, that makes three. Pebble Beach is one of the classics, and it’s not going anywhere. Would you conclude that the so-called Classic at Sugarloaf might be getting a bit nervous?
Permalink | Comments (6) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Furman Bisher, Hawks / NBA
Ex-Dogs basketball star shows sports’ good side
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
The feds digging in a star quarterback’s backyard. A wrestler strangling his wife and son before committing suicide. No end to the scandals involving performance-enhancing drugs. All of those mug shots, ranging from the likes of “Pacman” Jones to Los Angeles Lakers owner Jerry Buss to a slew of Georgia Bulldogs.
We interrupt the epidemic of bad stuff in sports to bring you the good stuff of Shandon Anderson.
For starters, after leaving Georgia with his considerable basketball talent for the NBA without a degree, Anderson returned this spring to Athens to get one.
It took a while.
Like 11 years.
“I dropped a freshman English course my first quarter there [in 1992], and I never went back,” said Anderson, 33, sighing with the memory. “I didn’t want to go into class with a bunch of 17-year-olds and 18-year-olds when I was a junior and senior, so I tried to make it up with correspondence courses. You keep saying to yourself, ‘I’ll get it done. I’ll get that one class,’ but you never do. Finally, I did get it done, and that’s because it was something I had to do for the sake of the kids.”
There is Anderson’s 10-year-old daughter, Kori, for instance. She is as impressionable as the youngsters that Anderson encounters through his four-year-old foundation. It is based in his native Atlanta, and it helps underprivileged youth improve their educational and social skills through mentors. “How are you going to tell a kid to do something if you’re not doing it yourself?” said Anderson, sounding like the anti-Charles Barkley, which means Anderson knows he is a role model.
With apologies to Barkley and others who don’t get it, we’re all role models, whether we like it or not, and we’re either positive ones or negative ones. Pro athletes just have more opportunities to become powerful ones through their high visibility. That’s why Anderson is flirting with little or no visibility as a player. After 10 seasons in the NBA that included a championship with the Miami Heat during his last season in
2005-06, Anderson’s pro career is more in the past than the present or the future, courtesy of a wrist injury.
No problem, though. Anderson has lots to do with the opening of his salon and spa in Atlantic Station. “It’s going to be nice, vibrant and upbeat,” he said, describing his new business and himself. “The theme of the place will center around these three islands — Bora Bora, Sri Lanka and Bali — where you can drop in to get away from the hustle and bustle of life.”
Entrepreneurship is wonderful, and Anderson added, “There are a few more things I want to venture into.” It’s just that his deepest passion involves his foundation that was inspired in 2003 when he visited Crim High School, his alma mater. He discovered more than a few clueless youngsters wandering the halls and classrooms. “It’s a shame, because of who the school is named for,” said Anderson, referring to Alonzo A. Crim, the first African-American superintendent of Atlanta public schools. “So we began programs such as Femininity 101, where we would bring in a bunch of the girls to teach them how to do their hair and proper grooming and things of that nature.”
The foundation has evolved so much that it just held a banquet to give scholarships to 20 needy student-athletes graduating from local high schools. “It was unbelievable, man,” said Anderson, with emotion, especially after he mentioned that, because both of his parents are deceased, he has leaned on Jacquelyn Mack, his former teacher at Crim who also is his godmother.
Which brings us back to Anderson’s college diploma.
Or is that Mack’s diploma?
“You want to satisfy the people around you, so that diploma definitely is not going to come my way,” said Anderson, laughing, adding that the diploma is hanging in Mack’s Decatur home. “For my godmother to see me finally accomplish that goal, I think it really means a lot to her.”
To her and to everybody else tired of seeing the police blotter in the middle of the sports section.
Permalink | Comments (9) | Categories: Terence Moore, UGA / SEC
Reason for optimism over Falcons
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Conventional wisdom holds that the Falcons have had a debilitating offseason. From the water bottle in Miami to a dead dog named Kilo to the dogfighting investigation in Virginia, these have surely been eventful months. But will such “events” automatically make for a woeful autumn? Not necessarily. And here, since you asked, are the reasons why:
1. They have a better coach and a better plan. The last staff seemed a cobbled-together contraption, what with Greg Knapp and his West Coast offense, and with Alex Gibbs and his zone blocking, and with nobody who seemed to know how to optimize Michael Vick. The new man relishes the thought of coaching this quarterback. “That’s why we’re here,” Bobby Petrino has said, and he isn’t a guy who’ll let his coordinators hash things out. He knows what he wants and will settle for no less. You won’t be able to say of his team what became painfully apparent about Jim Mora’s: that it had no signature.
2. They had a bountiful draft. The Falcons helped themselves almost everywhere, from the defensive front (Jamaal Anderson and Trey Lewis, Rounds 1 and 6) to the offensive line (Justin Blalock and Doug Datish, Rounds 2 and 6) to the secondary (Chris Houston and David Irons, Rounds 2 and 6) to tight end (Martrez Milner, Round 4) to wide receiver (Laurent Robinson, Round 3) to linebacker (Stephen Nicholas, Round 4). That’s a lot of handy new pieces for this clever new staff to deploy.
3. Grady Jackson sued but didn’t leave. He’s a big man, literally and figuratively, for the Falcons. With Patrick Kerney gone and Rod Coleman hurt and Jonathan Babineaux facing an animal-abuse charge — and with Anderson being a rookie and with John Abraham being his brittle self — the D-line must have an anchor. With the lawsuit settled, Jackson still provides one.
4. Running back Jerious Norwood seems ready for his close-up. He’s one guy Petrino keeps mentioning, and he figures to get nearly as many touches as Warrick Dunn this season. More, if Norwood proves he can catch the ball. And Petrino’s quarterbacks are noted for utilizing every receiver.
5. Vick hasn’t been indicted and/or suspended — yet. If he’s indicted, he’ll be suspended. (Estimates vary, but four games is the most popular guess.) But absolutely nobody knows whether an indictment, which once seemed imminent, will be issued at all. If none is, will Roger Goodell still find cause to sanction Vick? If so, on what grounds? Having the wrong cousin?
6. Even if Vick is suspended, the Falcons have had a summer to prepare for his absence. This isn’t to say Petrino wants to start the season with Joey Harrington as his quarterback. (Would the Falcons have traded Matt Schaub if they had any idea this dogfighting thing was out there? Probably not.) But Petrino is smart enough to have formed a contingency plan by now, and Harrington, while no long-term answer, has at least been an NFL starting quarterback. He could win a game or two.
7. As unsavory as the off-the-field stuff has been, Vick seems to have rededicated himself to football. He has canceled public appearances — and he infamously skipped the breakfast with members of Congress — but the Falcons insist the quarterback has been an attentive student of the new system. And that’s the best news of a news-heavy offseason because, to put it bluntly, Vick hasn’t seemed as detail-oriented since he signed that $130 million contract in December 2004. He seems to believe this is the biggest year of his career, and it is.
Permalink | Comments (121) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Mark Bradley
Reason for optimism over Falcons
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Conventional wisdom holds that the Falcons have had a debilitating offseason. From the water bottle in Miami to a dead dog named Kilo to the dogfighting investigation in Virginia, these have surely been eventful months. But will such “events” automatically make for a woeful autumn? Not necessarily. And here, since you asked, are the reasons why:
1. They have a better coach and a better plan. The last staff seemed a cobbled-together contraption, what with Greg Knapp and his West Coast offense and with Alex Gibbs and his zone blocking and with nobody who seemed to know how to optimize Michael Vick. The new man relishes the thought of coaching this quarterback. “That’s why we’re here,” Bobby Petrino has said, and he isn’t a guy who’ll let his coordinators hash things out. He knows what he wants and will settle for no less. You won’t be able to say of his team what became painfully apparent about Jim Mora’s: that it had no signature.
2. They had a bountiful draft. The Falcons helped themselves almost everywhere, from the defensive front (Jamaal Anderson and Trey Lewis, Rounds 1 and 6) to the offensive line (Justin Blalock and Doug Datish, Rounds 2 and 6) to the secondary (Chris Houston and David Irons, Rounds 2 and 6) to tight end (Martrez Milner, Round 4) to wide receiver (Laurent Robinson, Round 3) to linebacker (Stephen Nicholas, Round 4). That’s a lot of handy new pieces for this clever new staff to deploy.
3. Grady Jackson sued but didn’t leave. He’s a big man, literally and figuratively, for the Falcons. With Patrick Kerney gone and Rod Coleman hurt and Jonathan Babineaux facing an animal-abuse charge — and with Anderson being a rookie and with John Abraham being his brittle self — the D-line must have an anchor. With the lawsuit settled, Jackson still provides one.
4. Running back Jerious Norwood seems ready for his close-up. He’s one guy Petrino keeps mentioning, and he figures to get nearly as many touches as Warrick Dunn this season. More, if Norwood proves he can catch the ball. And Petrino’s quarterbacks are noted for utilizing every receiver.
5. Vick hasn’t been indicted and/or suspended — yet. If he’s indicted, he’ll be suspended. (Estimates vary, but four games is the most popular guess.) But absolutely nobody knows whether an indictment, which once seemed imminent, will be issued at all. If none is, will Roger Goodell still find cause to sanction Vick? If so, on what grounds? Having the wrong cousin?
6. Even if Vick is suspended, the Falcons have had a summer to prepare for his absence. This isn’t to say Petrino wants to start the season with Joey Harrington as his quarterback. (Would the Falcons have traded Matt Schaub if they had any idea this dogfighting thing was out there? Probably not.) But Petrino is smart enough to have formed a contingency plan by now, and Harrington, while no long-term answer, has at least been an NFL starting quarterback. He could win a game or two.
7. As unsavory as the off-the-field stuff has been, Vick seems to have rededicated himself to football. He has canceled public appearances — and he infamously skipped the breakfast with members of Congress — but the Falcons insist the quarterback has been an attentive student of the new system. And that’s the best news of a news-heavy offseason because, to put it bluntly, Vick hasn’t seemed as detail-oriented since he signed that $130 million contract in December 2004. He seems to believe this is the biggest year of his career, and it is.
Permalink | Comments (99) | Categories: Falcons / NFL
Hot dog contest is tasteless
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
I ate a hot dog on the Fourth of July. I believe this now makes me a world-class athlete.
A guy ate 66 hot dogs in 12 minutes and was declared world champion on ESPN on the Fourth. ESPN is — or, more precisely, was — a network devoted to sports. This guy’s feat, if you want to call it that, was chronicled breathlessly by the wire services and featured prominently on the major sports Web sites. Every now and then we have the debate over whether figure skating is a real sport. Well, alongside renowned gorger Joey Chesnut, Michelle Kwan is Jim Thorpe.
We’ve known for some time these two basic truths: (1.) That people will do anything to get on TV, and (2.) that TV will show people doing just about anything. But ultimately we have to draw the line:
Eating is not a sport. Poker is not a sport. A spelling bee is not a sport. They’re competitions, yes, but they involve nothing athletic. They’re simply programming for the great beast Television, and for reasons unclear some among us feel compelled to watch this stuff.
At least a spelling bee carries educational content. What’s to be gained from guys eating hot dogs? Not one thing, other than this priceless quote — I’m borrowing from the Associated Press report — from Rich Shea of the International Federation of Competitive Eating. Having seen dethroned champ Takeru Kobayashi undergo a “reversal” (meaning: he vomited), Shea said: “Obviously that last bit exited his mouth quite dramatically.”
So here’s what I want to know: If eating is a sport, how long before ESPN brings us the World Series of Puking? And how would you determine the winner? By volume? By distance? By content?
Permalink | Comments (164) | Categories: Mark Bradley, Quick Hit
Miles of red, white and brews
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
Fortunately, for the nation’s psyche, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution Peachtree Road Race is equal parts serious, fun and goofy. Otherwise, the bosses of the Atlanta Track Club would have to ponder whether to move their event to Nairobi or something.
Once again, an American wasn’t the fastest among men in sneakers from Buckhead to Midtown on a Fourth of July. Once again, a slew of Kenyans dominated the thing. Once again, most of the other 55,000 runners couldn’t care less.
The same was true for the thousands on Wednesday who yelled themselves red, white and blue along the journey to Piedmont Park.
“Almost there.”
“Finish strong.”
“Only a few more yards to go, and you’re done, baby.”
It nearly worked. For a while, Abdi Abdirahman from Tucson, Ariz., via Somalia, ran well enough in his first Peachtree to make the Kenyans look destined to chase his back. Then Jesus Junction became Cardiac Hill. With his legs tiring, even in the mild conditions for an Independence Day in Georgia, Abdirahman told his subconscious that second place isn’t bad. “Then, when I finally decided to make my move, there was a point where I didn’t even want to chase those guys and just settle for third or fourth place,” said Abdirahman, who eventually refused to fade, because the crowd wouldn’t let him.
Added Abdirahman, “Those people were just screaming good things at me, and some were calling my name. I said after a while, ‘I’ve got to go out there and fight, man.’ I wasn’t just running for myself. I was running for the whole nation.”
Still, Abdirahman didn’t become the first American men’s winner in 16 years. He finished 11 seconds behind Kenya’s Martin Irungu, but he did take the USA Men’s 10K, which ran concurrently with the Peachtree for the first time. That was nice, but winning and losing doesn’t define this race that emphasizes the everyman. To quote Baron de Coubertin, the father of the Olympic Games, “The essential thing is not to have conquered, but to have fought well.”
No problem there for this Peachtree race that featured a striking number of determined participants of all ages, backgrounds, colors and shapes. They trotted when they couldn’t run, walked when they couldn’t trot, but they finished. Then again, they had a lot of encouragers.
For the third year in a row, Matt Page, 16, stood at the corner of Peachtree Road and 10th Street with his little white bell. His mother and twin brother also had bells, and they jingled for hours. They began at the sight of the first runner, and they continued until the last runner made that left turn heading downhill. Does the ringing inspire the runners? “I guess it does, yeah,” said Page, grinning and ringing.
There also was the brew crew. At the 6-mile mark, Scott Stiber and Derek Browning, both 30 and from Sandy Springs, continued their six-year tradition of giving free cold ones to runners. “We had five full coolers, and our goal was to give out 200 cans before 9 o’clock, which we did,” said Browning, who joined Stiber and others in purchasing the libation.
So what do you and Browning do for a living? “Um, I can’t say,” said Stiber, laughing, before handing out six beer cans to joyful recipients in 10 seconds.
Just so you know, that rolling group hug throughout the race wasn’t just for Abdirahman. It was for everybody. The four guys running as the irritable cavemen from a popular television commercial. All of those superhero wannabes. That woman with her braided hair dyed as an American flag. The folks doing an impression of the running of the bulls.
There also was Walter Barnes, a Vietnam veteran from Decatur. For each of the past 10 years, he has gathered his son, Walter Jr., and his daughter, Jennifer, on July 4th for the MARTA ride to Peachtree’s starting point at Lenox Square. “When I first started running this myself in 1983, there were about 5,000 people entered, then 20,000. Now look at it,” said Barnes, 62, with his son and daughter nodding nearby.
Where’s Mother Barnes? “She’ll meet us for lunch,” said Jennifer, laughing.
Permalink | Comments (4) | Categories: Other, Terence Moore
July 4 birthmates bigger than life
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
It’s Independence Day. So how about an oddity involving “July 4?”
No, not THAT one.
You probably learned in history class that, not only did founding fathers and U.S. presidents Thomas Jefferson and John Adams die on July 4, but they perished in the same year.
The odds of that happening were as great as “July 4” also serving as the birthdays of Al Davis, the king of the Oakland Raiders, and George Steinbrenner, the king of the New York Yankees.
How appropriate. The 78-year-old Davis and the 77-year-old Steinbrenner are clones, and that’s a good thing. While Davis has spent 44 years with the Raiders, Steinbrenner has spent 34 years with the Yankees. They’ve both won multiple world championships as unconventional owners (six for Steinbrenner, three for Davis), and they’ve both been famously stubborn.
They’ve also both been suffering physically. Davis has befriended a walker, and Steinbrenner has vanished from the public after being as visible at Yankee Stadium as pinstripes.
Here’s the biggest contrast: While Davis’ Raiders have reeked for years after decades of dominance, the Yankees have flashed signs of becoming yesterday’s powerhouse only in recent months.
Whatever the case, Davis and Steinbrenner have remained what they’ll be forever: Bigger than life.
That, along with American icons birthed into red, white and blue.
Permalink | Comments (5) | Categories: Quick Hit, Terence Moore
‘Thumb King’ calm at home
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Part of me thinks it’s funny that Bobby Cox has drawn more notice for being thrown out of games than for having won 15 division titles. A bigger part of me thinks it’s sad that this man could be remembered more for getting thumbed than for being the best manager of the era. It’s akin to Orson Welles being known not for “Citizen Kane” and “Touch Of Evil” but for those hokey wine commercials.
I’m not the only one who feels this way. Mrs. Bobby Cox dreads the sight of her husband waddling out of the dugout in pursuit of yet another erring ump. “Every time,” Pam Cox says, “I cringe.”
Her husband is 66. He has 13 grandchildren. She has grown accustomed to one or another of the 13 saying, “MeeMaw, did you see what Gran-Bobby said last night?” Not that they can actually hear via TV what Gran-Bobby did say. She’s grateful for that small favor. Still …
“If our grandchildren are saying that,” she says, “everyone’s grandchildren are saying that.”
Pam Cox doesn’t go to many games anymore. Her mom has been ill, and there are always issues at the famous Adairsville farm. But she watches and listens, and when the great skipper gets home, they sometimes have what she calls “this conversation” about the ejections, the total of which stands at 130, tied with John McGraw for the all-time best. (Or worst, depending on your slant.)
Bobby Cox, it should be noted, is sheepish about the subject. He isn’t proud about becoming the Thumb King, but he isn’t so abashed that he’s about to change his dissenting ways. “He’s going to make an argument for his players no matter how minute it might be,” Pam Cox says. “When he goes out there, he’s not thinking about ejections or the number of ejections.”
And when his wife gently suggests he might object a bit less often, Bobby Cox, she says, “looks at you like you have nine heads. ‘Of course I’m going to go out there.’ “
Anyone who watches only the clips of Cox’s rants sees just a sliver of the Big Picture. He is, at heart, a cheerful and contented man. “As a wife, I hear about other husbands who hate their jobs,” Pam Cox says. “He loves his job. He’s the same whether he’s on top or 20 games out. He can’t wait to get to the ballpark.”
And he has, contrary to visible and statistical evidence, grown more relaxed with time and success. Says Pam Cox: “Absolutely he’s mellowed.”
Somehow mellowing hasn’t diminished his belief that his guys never get a call. (Never mind that Glavine and Maddux went a decade without throwing a real strike. Never mind that his dugout perch affords one of the worst views of the proceedings.) Mark Lemke, the former Braves player probably closest to Cox, suggests grousing was such standard procedure when Cox was coming up in the Yankees organization as a player under Ralph Houk and as a coach alongside Billy Martin that it became his norm. Pam Cox endorses that view.
“Everyone was doing it differently when Billy Martin was around,” she says. “Today there’s zero tolerance. [Arguing was] not as unacceptable back then. And he’ll say, ‘That’s the way I’m doing it.’ “
And that’s the way he does it, the wishes of family and friends notwithstanding. (“What can I do?” his wife says. “I’m just the wife.”) Eventually Thumb No. 131 will be brandished, and he’ll be banished yet again, and maybe then we can forget all about this goofy pursuit.
Pam Cox is simply looking forward to next week’s All-Star break. She had an outdoor kitchen built for him on the farm, where the clan will gather. A truer image: Gran-Bobby grilling out, as opposed to being a record-breaking grump.
Permalink | Comments (62) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Mark Bradley
Horford gave Gators their bite
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Each of the others had a different handle for him. Being economical, Taurean Green called him Horf. Being whimsical, Joakim Noah called him Horfy. And what was Corey Brewer’s choice of nicknames?
“He just called me Al,” Alfred Joel Horford said Monday.
Because the Hawks called his name on draft night, Al Horford has gone from being part of one of the happiest families in college basketball history to being the biggest new part of one of the NBA’s most dysfunctional franchises. He treasures the years he spent at Florida, but for him and the other celebrated Oh-Fours — roommates Brewer, Green and Noah, so dubbed because they were members of the 2004 freshman class — it was, Horford said, “time to move on.”
Some members of great teams look better than they really are. Horford is the Gator most apt to look great on his own. He’s listed as a power forward, but a full season won’t pass before he’s the Hawks’ starting center. Anyone who saw Florida in person knows Horford was the most imposing among the many imposing Gators. Anyone who watched closely knows even the all-for-one Gators deferred to him when in dire need of a basket.
“Billy [Donovan, Florida’s coach] would tell me, ‘We have to go through Al,’ ” said Tito Horford, Al’s father and briefly an NBA center himself. “If he was double-teamed, he’d make the pass. If he wasn’t, he’d score.”
The biggest hoop of Florida’s second championship run came with 2:34 left and the scored tied against Butler in the Sweet 16. Brewer fed Horford, who was guarded by the 6-foot-6 Brandon Crone. Said Horford that night: “Corey was signaling to me, ‘Go score, go score.’ “
He muscled into the lane, scored the basket, drew the fifth foul on Crone and made the free throw. Said Crone afterward: “Horford’s a great player. He’s also huge.”
Some players are tall but not wide. Horford is both. He’ll get bigger and stronger. “Believe me,” Tito Horford said. “He’s going to come here and do some work.”
You can tell a lot about a guy from the way his teammates view him. The other Gators regarded Horford not with awe — they were too rollicking a crew for that — but with absolute respect. When Noah was in town for his Hawks’ audition, he told Billy Knight that his pal Horfy was “our rock; he was there every night.”
And now the Hawks, who in years past sought to make do with pebbles, have a rock of their own. No Gator improved more than Horford over the summer between the two titles. No Gator will be a better pro. (And this isn’t to slight Noah and Brewer, both of whom will be good.) The Oh-Fours — plus shooter Lee Humphrey and sixth man Chris Richard, who were a year ahead — together authored a run of greatness unseen in the contemporary college game, but Horford’s real greatness lies ahead.
“We all sacrificed [for the common goal],” Horford said of the Gators. And then, gently: “I do feel I can do a little more [in the NBA].”
Yes, he’ll miss the others. The Oh-Fours lived together for three years and never had a major blow-up. “What was so good about it,” Horford said, “was that we’d go somewhere else when we got on each other’s nerves. Like sometimes Taurean, who’s intense, would get into it with Joakim, who’s more laid-back.” (Noah? Laid-back? “Off the court,” Horford said.)
In Gainesville he was part of a glorious whole. Here he’ll be a focal point of a work in progress. He hasn’t yet lost a game in this city — he’s 10-0 here, having won two SEC tournaments and the most recent Final Four — and he’ll help make the Hawks, who haven’t had a winning season this century, winners in due course.
You can call him Horf or Horfy, or you can call him Al. But here’s one thing you won’t be calling him: a bust.
Permalink | Comments (39) | Categories: Hawks / NBA, Mark Bradley
Services »
