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Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Ideal time for Hawks to take off
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
Nature abhors a vacuum, and our pro sports scene is approaching vacuum status. “The Falcons used to be the team with Michael Vick, but he’s gone and they’re struggling,” Josh Smith says. “The Braves haven’t made the playoffs the last two years, and the Thrashers are off to a slow start.”
That leaves Smith’s team, and we’ve been conditioned to laugh hard and long whenever that forlorn franchise is mentioned. We should stop laughing. The Hawks are now our best hope.
Yes, the Hawks.
Yes, really.
The marketplace is wide open, and the Hawks finally seem to have something worth buying. “No question about it,” says Dominique Wilkins, who’s the club’s vice president and who was, 22 years ago, part of a team that rose up and made Atlanta take notice. “This is a prime opportunity for us.”
For the first time this century, a warm little buzz has attached itself to the franchise that has endured a long nuclear winter. The Hawks are seen as having had, miracle of miracles, a very good draft. There’s a growing belief that the process of rebuilding, which has moved at a glacial pace, is nearing its blessed end.
“I do think this is a playoff team, barring injuries,” Wilkins says, and the Hawks, as we know too well, haven’t reached the postseason since 1999. “People say the [NBA] East has improved, and it has, but we’re one of the teams that has gotten better.”
Practice games aren’t usually worth mentioning, but in the current climate — Braves falling short, Thrashers falling flat, Falcons falling apart — it must be noted that the Hawks won their first three exhibitions. Wilkins again: “We like the situation we’re in. This is a different team, a different atmosphere.”
This isn’t to say the masses have embraced the Hawks already or will anytime soon. This, remember, is Atlanta. Stan Kasten, once the president of every local pro team save the Falcons, used to say that Atlantans needed about a year to catch on even after a team starts to win. Indeed, that’s what happened with the 1985-86 Hawks.
They weren’t expected to do anything, but they arrayed three draftees — Spud Webb, John Battle and, yes, Jon Koncak — alongside young players like Wilkins and Doc Rivers and Randy Wittman and Kevin Willis and Cliff Levingston and Antoine Carr, and by New Year’s the Hawks were above .500 and getting stronger. They finished 50-32 and made the playoffs and beat Detroit in Round 1, but attendance didn’t exactly spike. Only three regular-season home games (two against the Celtics, one against the Lakers) sold out. On April 10, 1986, Wilkins scored 57 points before an audience of 9,902 at the 16,000-seat Omni.
But, come 1987 and 1988 and 1989, the Hawks were the biggest game in town. (It helped that the Braves and Falcons were moribund.) “People weren’t quite used to it [at first],” Wilkins says. “But I remember arriving at the airport during that Boston series [in 1988], and there being thousands of people to meet us. People really tripped to us. Atlanta’s always been like that — if you get their respect, they will support you.”
Josh Smith, the burgeoning power forward, is a lifelong Atlantan. He doesn’t recall the 1985-86 season for a basic logistical reason: “I was just coming into this world.” He can, however, sense a difference in the way people are regarding his team. “I go to different malls,” he says, “and it’s like people are waiting for us to explode. … This town is waiting for a team to explode, and I believe we can do it.”
If nothing else, the Hawks have at least ceased being a tired punch line. There’s an air of expectation, as opposed to a cloud of abject dread, ringing the team that has over the past eight seasons finished an aggregate 220 games under .500. Says Smith, smiling: “I’d be happy if everybody is just talking about the Hawks in a positive light.”
Everybody isn’t. Not yet. But a few folks are, and there’s a chance that number will expand over the next six months. There’s a chance the club nobody has been willing to claim will soon be the people’s choice.
Permalink | Comments (54) | Categories: Hawks / NBA, Mark Bradley
Rockies dedicate play to Coobaugh
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
The Colorado Rockies haven’t been playing just for the World Series, but also for Amanda, Joey and Jake. Amanda, Joey and Jake are the family of Mike Coolbaugh. The late Mike Coolbaugh. It was a tragedy that weeks later still gnaws at the insides of any of us who has a love for baseball.
Here was a guy who had clawed his way through the minor leagues, a “family man,” a term so often wasted on some dupes. Mike Coolbaugh had a nightly prayer relationship with Joey and Jake. But baseball hadn’t been good to him. In 17 seasons, only twice had he even had a teasing relationship with a major-league team. Between “a cup of coffee” with the Brewers and the Cardinals, his major-league career consisted of 82 times at bat and two home runs.
Finally, it was over, and he went home to San Antonio in resignation last year. He was preparing himself for a career in business, but his heart wasn’t in it, the story goes. Then one day the phone rang. The Tulsa Drillers, a Rockies farm club, was offering him a job as hitting coach. He would replace Orlando Merced, an old major-leaguer who had taken his leave in mid-season. Mike said nothing to Mandy until the job was his.
“He didn’t want to jinx things,” S.L. Price wrote in Sports Illustrated. “It felt like we were always being jinxed,” Mandy said. If she only had known what was ahead.
Only July 4, Mike reported to the Drillers. Eighteen games later he was standing in the coach’s box at first base in Little Rock, where the Drillers were playing the Travelers.
You and I and thousands of us who have watched baseball being played, pregame practice, infielders aiming throws at first base, batters rapping line drives about the field. And heard some player cry, “Look out!” Then going about what they were doing, never giving thought that serious injury might have been inches away.
One reason Mike answered the Drillers’ call, Joey and Jake, five and three years old, liked going to the ball park and seeing their dad in a baseball uniform. Being in San Antonio and dad in Tulsa, there wasn’t a lot of chances for that, but there were pictures, and they could visit, and that was enough. At least they could have a few swings with him in the backyard when he was home.
It was the ninth inning that day. The Drillers had a runner on first and a 28-year-old utilityman, Tino Sanchez, a left-handed hitter, at bat. Mike was busy, concentrating on the baserunner and his lead. According to reports, Mike told him, “If you’re going from first to third, you’ve got to be sure,” and those were his last words. Sanchez pulled an inside pitch and it traveled like an arrow straight at Mike, struck him behind the left ear, and in the words of an attending doctor, he was dead by the time he hit the ground. It was a freak. An inch either way or the other, the doctor said, and he’d still be alive.
Now, I’ve read that the only other time a baseball player has been killed in a professional game was in 1920, when a pitch from Carl Mays struck Ray Chapman, Cleveland Indians shortstop, in the head and injured him fatally. But I was reminded of a story, when I was a kid, on the front page of the Greensboro Daily News of shortstop Jake Batterton taking a pitch to the skull in a Piedmont League game, and that the pitch killed him. Several years later, in the Georgia-Alabama League, a pitch by Jack Clifton struck a batter named Otis Johnson in the head, killed him and a serious hostility broke out between the neighboring towns of Dothan and Headland.
But this was now and a different time. News travels faster and in graphic form. You see a small line crawl across the bottom of “SportsCenter” one afternoon, and a tragedy such as this strikes at the hearts of people who’d never heard of Mike Coolbaugh. Two small boys and a pregnant mother are thrust into the public eye, and players who never met or saw them respond with admirable generosity. The Rockies opened their hearts as if this was one of their own.
Mike had been one of them, if only for 18 days. Joey and Jake were invited to throw out the first pitch at one of the playoff games. When the Rockies convened, as major-league teams do, to vote on how the postseason money should be split, they included the Coolbaughs in a touching way. They voted Amanda and Joey and Jake Coolbaugh a full share, just like a player. They’ve made the World Series now. I’m pulling for them to go all the way, and if they do, it could amount to about $120,000 for the Coolbaugh family Mike left behind. You have to break out the tissue for a story like that.
Permalink | Comments (11) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Furman Bisher
Falcons may be better off losing
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
THE TUESDAY COUNTDOWN:
10: OK. So I realize the Falcons haven’t even gotten to their bye week yet (one more loss). But is it too early to start thinking about draft position? Just asking, because, like, I polled the 20,000 empty seats in the Georgia Dome last night and they voted 19,997 to 3 for a faceplant.
9: The Birdies have 10 games left. None are obvious wins. Most are obvious losses. So two questions: 1) Do you think they’ll win another game? 2) Do you want them to win another game? Every loss turns the team into a bigger punching bag. Every loss also puts the team in a better draft position. In theory, that’s good. Of course, in theory, you don’t draft Jimmy Williams. Or Roddy White, Or Michael Jenkins Or …
8: The problem isn’t just that Michael Vick’s football career may be over. The problem is he’s running out of career options. Leadership seminars: dead. Veterinarian: dead. Rental car agent: dead. Wine bar proprietor: dead.
7: Now Wachovia’s suing Vick for being in default of a $1.3 million loan for his package store and the adjoining “Tasting Room” restaurant in East Point, which I’ve never visited but I hear they’re doing wonderful things with the Moonlight Road chardonnay. Wachovia also claims Vick is overdrawn on two checking accounts for $34,680.85, which doesn’t make a $312 deficit in my checkbook look so bad.
6: Hey Mike, if you’ve got space in the wine cellar, T.I. is looking for a storage facility.
5: The biggest positive about John Schuerholz stepping down as general manager? Tom Glavine now says he’ll pitch for the Braves for $60,000.
4: So what happened to all of those misguided Braves’ fans who believed Leo Mazzone was some guru? He went to Baltimore, which had no pitching, and he got fired after two years, because it still had no pitching. The Orioles’ ERA this year: 5.16, which ranked 29th out of 30 clubs. In 2006, it was 5.35, also 29th out of 30. Now you know why nobody on the Braves, from general manager down to spike-cleaner, wept when he left.
3: Actual news: Bill Belichick’s hoodie sweatshirt is outselling Tom Brady’s jersey. Comment: Who knew? Bill Belichick - fashion plate. Hey, when he’s dumping Bridget Moynahan for Gisele Bundchen, get back to me.
2: Bob Hartley is taking a lot of heat for the Thrashers’ 0-5 start. He deserves some. But if the problems are widespread, as so adeptly pointed out by my pal Craig Custance today, shouldn’t the target be pointed upstairs? Bad soup. Bad ingredients. Bad choices, Don.
1: The Braves missed the playoffs again. The Falcons are 1-5. The Thrashers are 0-5. Your greatest nightmare is here: We’re looking forward to the Hawks’ season.
Permalink | Comments (129) | Categories: Jeff Schultz, Quick Hit
Falcons’ flaws fully exposed
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Terence Moore
There were two objectives for the Falcons in this one. First, with much of the free world watching (at least the portion that gets ESPN), they didn’t want to get embarrassed on Monday Night Football. Second, with a flimsy group of peers in the NFC South, they actually had thoughts of resurrecting themselves from the dead in the division by winning the game.
Let’s just say the Georgia Dome was filled with more boos than bodies after the New York Giants exposed the Falcons as one of the NFL’s most dreadful teams.
Actually, the Falcons exposed themselves.
The receivers dropped six passes, including two by Alge Crumpler, who boldly announced after blasting his rookie NFL head coach last week that he was re-dedicating himself as a team leader. The defense was gashed by so many gigantic plays through the air that you would have thought this Manning named Eli was that other one named Peyton. Speaking of quarterbacks, the Falcons still don’t have one. Among other woes, Joey Harrington contributed to several of the Giants’ four sacks through indecisiveness.
One more thing: That fancy offense that Bobby Petrino was supposed to bring from college to the pros has produced one offensive touchdown in the last 10 quarters. This is the same Petrino who isn’t the people’s choice around the Falcons’ locker room for that and other reasons.
So, courtesy of a mostly self-inflicted beating of 31-10 at the hands of the Giants, Atlanta is 1-5 in the standings and counting.
Now what?
“We’ve said enough. It’s time for us to play, man,” said Crumpler, forcing a chuckle in a locker room that had a death-row feel — you know, right before somebody flips the switch. “Regardless of what’s going on with our feelings, we’ve just gotta cut it loose. It ain’t about one or two people. It’s about us. We spent the whole week trying to cut some of the tension and just trying to be positive. Just playing for each other.”
Some of that worked on the game’s opening drive, with the Falcons suggesting that they actually had a clue of how to control pass-rushing monsters Osi Umenyiora and Michael Strahan. It involved the employment of quick throws. So quick that those monsters didn’t have time to sink their fangs into the Falcons’ backup offensive tackles across the way.
The drive began at the Falcons’ 30-yard line and ended with Morten Andersen’s 47-yard field goal for a 3-0 lead and hope for the home team.
That hope was extended to the Falcons’ defense, with Rod Coleman and John Abraham doing much of the heavy lifting to make the Giants’ first drive quick and forgettable. Well, that was until the Falcons’ Demorrio Williams made it long and memorable by running into the punter. Just like that, Manning kept finding a variety of receivers in wide-open spaces, and that hope kept vanishing along the Giants’ easy path to the end zone.
The Giants used the same scenario on their next possession. And their next one. In fact, they sort of figured out early and often that the Falcons’ secondary had no concept on how to keep the Giants’ big three of Plaxico Burress, Amani Toomer and Jeremy Shockey from catching Manning’s tosses with little resistance.
For the longest time, the Falcons’ biggest hope was represented by Jerious Norwood, owner of dramatically frantic legs that aren’t used frequently enough. Every game, there is talk from the Falcons’ coaching staff about using Norwood more. Every game, it only happens in spurts. None of those spurts was more impressive than when Norwood kept changing gears in the first quarter on his 67-yard sprint for a touchdown.
You’d have thought the Falcons would have featured the Norwood Offense after that.
You’d have thought.
Then again, you’d also have thought the Falcons would have been inspired in the third quarter on DeAngelo Hall’s interception return of 33 yards. Moments later, with Harrington scrambling to keep his limbs in tact, and with another receiver dropping a pass, and with the crowd hissing, the Falcons were punting. That was the only thing they perfected for the night.
Well, that and the art of looking absolutely dysfunctional.
Permalink | Comments (204) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Terence Moore
