By DERON SNYDER (as published in The Washington Times)
With nearly a fifth of the century behind us, traditionalists in sports are having a rough ride. Every other day seems to bring another athlete who’s flexing his leverage, taking control of his destiny, or running his mouth on race and politics.
Not
that trade requests or forays into real-life issues never happened in the good
ol’ days when management’s iron fist was rarely unballed.
Ted
Williams used his Hall of Fame speech in 1966 to call out Major League Baseball
for black players’ absence from Cooperstown. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar told the Milwaukee
Bucks in 1974 that the city wasn’t a good fit and he wanted out. John Elway warned the Baltimore Colts prior to
the 1983 draft that they shouldn’t select him because he’d never play for them.
But
those instances occurred in an era without social media and the 24-hour news cycle
serving as twin bullhorns. The ability to amplify their positions seemingly has
emboldened some athletes. And their willingness to take a stand – instead of
sitting down and staying silent – is tough to stomach for some old-timers.
Their
indigestion is laughable. They have no problem with pro sports being a business,
as long as labor remains subservient. But when an athlete exerts his power or exercises
his rights, they want him to focus on the game and his team.
No,
I don’t feel sorry for traditionalists and their angst.
They
should put themselves in, say, Anthony Davis’ position.
By DERON SNYDER (as published in The Washington Times)
I was seated next to a pair of young women recently and couldn’t help overhearing their conversation. It was about the Super Bowl, this year’s participants, and past Super Bowl parties. Then came a line that just might summarize the opinion of every non-Patriots fan:
“I hate Tom Brady,” said one woman. “But you have to respect what’s he done.”
There’s no argument over the latter sentiment and there’s no confusion over the first one. Her esteem and her enmity for the New England quarterback are perfectly understandable.
Brady has reached the Super Bowl for the ninth time in his 19-year career. NFL fans in their mid-to-late-20s have watched him play in roughly half of the season finales they can recall. Only Bill Russell, a fellow Boston legend, compiled a more impressive stretch of sustained excellence, reaching 12 NBA finals in his 13-year career.
Even with all the controversy that has surrounded the Patriots – Deflategate, Spygate and Tuckgate, Brady must be given his due. He turned 41 during training camp and proceeded to pass for 4,355 yards, which ranked seventh in the league. He did so with a slot receiver and a halfback as his top targets.
Simply put, Brady is amazing. He has lived a charmed life, with a Hall-of-Fame career and a supermodel wife. But he never lets us forget he was the 199th player selected in the 2000 NFL draft, wearing that chip like a badge of honor.
That’s part of the reason he’s so annoying. But it’s his narcotic and he’s addicted.
By DERON SNYDER (as published in The Washington Times)
It
has been said that “close” only counts in horseshoes and grenades. But –
surprise, surprise – Bruce Allen thinks the term also applies to Washington’s
NFL team.
“We’ve
been in the middle of the pack the last three seasons,” the team president told
reporters Tuesday. “It means you’re close. It means you’re close to being
better.”
One
of my dear aunts was a nurse and she once explained an important distinction
regarding health. I was under the weather for a while and she asked how I felt.
“Better,” I said. She replied, “‘Better’ doesn’t mean you’re well.’”
In
Allen’s defense, Washington IS close in several ways.
It’s
one of 32 NFL franchises. It uses the same football and equipment that opponents
use. It makes a boatload of money.
Such
mistakes are part of football as two teams compete. There’s always a third team
on the field as well, its members competing against themselves in man’s never-ending
(and futile) quest for perfection.
When
Chicago’s Cody Parker missed a game-winning kick against Philadelphia two weeks
ago, he was crestfallen. He remained bent over with hands on knees for several
seconds before lineman Bobby Massie straightened him up, patted him on the
helmet and gave him a hug.
I’m
not sure which official – likely side judge Gary Cavaletto or line judge Rusty
Baynes – blew the controversial call in Sunday’s NFC championship game. But
whoever it was could use a hug, too.
Either
Cavaletto or Baynes were in the vicinity with primary responsibility to render
judgment when New Orleans quarterback Drew Brees threw an incomplete pass to
wide receiver Tommylee Lewis with 1:45 remaining in regulation. I imagine the culprit felt sick after seeing a
replay of Nickell Robey-Coleman’s blatant pass interference, a non-call that
arguably prevented the Saints from advancing to the Super Bowl.
Had
the obvious penalty been flagged, New Orleans could’ve drained the clock and
lined up for a game-winning, chip-shot field goal. Instead, the Los Angeles
Rams regained possession with 1:41 remaining and a timeout. They proceeded to tie
the score on Greg Zuerlein’s 48-yard field goal and win in overtime on his 57-yarder.
Afterward,
much of the conversation focused on the official(s) who failed to make a
no-brainer call. “I hope no other team has to lose a game the way we lost that one
today,” Saints coach Sean Payton said.
By DERON SNYDER (as published in The Washington Times)
Every
now and then, the tables are reversed, the script is flipped, and an athlete
has leverage on the system.
We
see it only rarely because the system is designed to win by default. Star athletes
are guaranteed one major choice – which college they’ll attend. After that, a
decade can pass before stars are positioned for another major lifestyle decision,
free agency.
What
happens between those mile markers is typically out of a player’s control. He
has no say in which team drafts him, and no say if he’s traded away. He’s conditioned
to cash his checks and keep the system
moving.
But
every once in a while, a player takes command of his pro career from the outset.
Which brings us to Kyler Murray, who currently is showing the Oakland A’s that
he’s in charge of his destiny and they’re spectators like the rest of us.
The
Heisman Trophy-winner – and No. 9 pick in last year’s MLB draft – has thrown
his name in the NFL draft, where he could be a first-rounder. Oakland already
has paid him a $4.66 million signing bonus that he must return if he forsakes
baseball. But first-round quarterbacks can rake in much more on their rookie
contract and signing bonuses, with the added benefit of endorsement
opportunities that are nonexistent for minor-league outfielders.
According
to published reports, Murray sought $15 million from Oakland to keep him out of
the NFL draft. News that he was waffling
on his fidelity to the A’s made an SB Nation team blogger ballistic, leading her to the
unemployment line after posting shameful tweets about Murray’s future. His
decision to enter the NFL draft has many observers worked up.
Some
question the wisdom of pursuing a sport fraught with danger to life and limb.
Others counter that he should follow his heart … and the significantly larger
payday he’d receive upfront. Baseball fans are upset. Football fans are
rejoicing.
In
one corner, we have the grizzled, wise sages, a pair of passers who have been
atop their profession for nearly two decades.
In
the other corner, we have the budding, spry newcomers, two quarterbacks who had
yet to reach kindergarten 20 years ago.
Will
veterans Tom Brady and Drew Brees pass the torch in the NFL conference
championship games on Sunday? Or will they make newcomers Patrick Mahomes and
Jared Goff wait a little longer to ascend?
We
couldn’t ask for a better set of games to determine a Super Bowl that will be
tantalizing either way. We can have the geezers in a New England-New Orleans contest
featuring all-time greats. Or maybe we get the fresh princes in a Kanas
City-Los Angeles tilt, highlighting the next wave. Or it might be a mix-and-match
pairing, something old, something new.
This
much seems clear: If points are your thing, you should prepare extra popcorn.
The real reason for shame in Alabama has nothing to do with Clemson’s rout in the college football championship game. That was just two outstanding teams in honest competition on a level playing field, with the super-talented Tigers playing extraordinarily well.
The matchup that should totally embarrass state
residents is the Alabama High School Athletic Association against senior
basketball star Maori Davenport. It’s an example of a youngster – one of the
nation’s best prep players – being steamrolled by power-hungry adults, led by
AHSAA executive director Steve Savarese.
In case you missed it, Davenport represented her
country in August and helped lead Team USA to the Under-18 gold medal at the
FIBA Americas Championship in Mexico City. USA Basketball sent her a check for
$857.20, a stipend offered to players who participate in summer programs. That
was a no-no.
“It was not a purposeful error,” USA Basketball
spokesman Craig Miller told ESPN. “We didn’t realize she had high school
eligibility remaining, and it’s absolutely our mistake.”
USA Basketball caught the blunder in November and
notified Charles Henderson High School (in Troy, Alabama), as well as the
AHSAA. Davenport’s mother wrote a reimbursement check immediately and sent it
back via express delivery, which should be where this story ends.
But, no. Savarese declared on Nov. 30 that the
Rutgers recruit was ineligible and issued a one-year suspension that ended
Davenport’s senior season after four games. And just to make sure that Savarese
wasn’t alone in his unreasonable and unwarranted abuse of power, more crazed
adults joined him and upheld the ruling in two appeals.
An AHSAA district board, and then its central
board, each agreed – by unanimous vote! – that Davenport’s one-year suspension
should stand.
The Baltimore Ravens considered the long view Sunday when they stayed with rookie quarterback Lamar Jackson instead of relieving him with veteran Joe Flacco.
Jackson
was acquired via a first-round draft pick and represents the future. Flacco hasn’t
played since Nov. 11 and is headed out of town. Pulling an ineffective Jackson
from the wild-card game against the San Diego Chargers would’ve created a dilemma
if Flacco led Baltimore to a comeback. Could the Ravens go back to Jackson in
that case?
No
matter how it turned out, benching Jackson might’ve been a crushing blow to his
confidence moving forward. His run-heavy style and shaky passing ability have
made him a question mark since he left Louisville and fended off pre-draft suggestions
of a position change. He would’ve faced renewed doubts if he was removed from
his first playoff game, even after leading Baltimore to victory in six of seven
contests down the stretch.
Coach
John Harbaugh apparently decided that turning to Flacco wasn’t worth the risk to
Jackson’s psyche or the team’s collective belief.
“I
can assure you we were considering putting Joe in the game,” Harbaugh told reporters
after the Ravens’ late rally fell short, 23-17. “Everybody was on the same page
with what we did, everybody including Joe.”
Flacco’s
feelings on the matter should’ve mattered least. But it’s hard to imagine every
player being behind Jackson after three quarters.
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