The End For A Legend?

I wrote this earlier today: “While Brett Favre is in the midst of one of the best seasons of his career, he IS still Brett Favre. He can try too hard even with his experience, and in trying to force a pass somewhere he shouldn’t end up throwing a silly interception.”

With less than a minute to go, rather than running with the ball and putting his kicker in position to attempt a game winning field goal as time runs out, Favre throws back across the field and right into the arms of a Saints defender. The Vikings never get their crack at a game winner, and the Saints win the game with a field goal on the first possession of overtime.

It was close to a storybook ending to a great game in a great season. But close doesn’t cut it. The Saints are going to the Super Bowl to face the Colts.

So is this how it ends for one of the greatest quarterbacks to ever play in the NFL, costing his team a chance at the Super Bowl with a bad play? Time will tell.

As the game progressed and he took a continuous pounding from the Saints defense, the man’s face spoke of exhaustion. Then he suffered an ankle injury on yet another hit after throwing the ball. He hobbled back into the game on the next possession and managed to play well, if not quite well enough.

But I will go out of a limb and say that I think this was the swan song; there seemed to be something in his face that spoke of someone who has reached the end.

Copyright 2010 – Mary Rae McPherson

Thoughts Before Championship Sunday

In just over a couple of hours, the first game to determine this year’s Super Bowl participants starts. I know the Colts have won two Super Bowls since the last time the Jets made it to the big game, but I’m pulling for the Colts.

One might think that “of course Mary wants the Jets to lose, after all they beat HER team!”

Baloney. I do have a connection with the Colts, and the Jets are… well… New York.

In 2002 I was living and working in Indianapolis. In fact, the Amtrak station in Indy is next door to the then home of the Colts, The RCA Dome. My regular job during the NFL season sent me on a round trip to Chicago on Saturdays, and on weekends featuring a Colts home game I thought it cool to see all the TV trucks parked out back in anticipation of the next day’s game. I never did actually go to a game; I was perfectly content to watch on TV in the room I rented on the south side of town.

As for the Jets, well, I have never been to New York and have no reasons to root for or against them. They pretty much lose that contest by default.

Later in the day, of course, we have what to me is the BIG game; the Vikings and the Saints. I won’t be disappointed no matter who wins, but I’m pulling for the Minnesota over New Orleans. Not by much, mind you. Maybe by a 55-45% margin at most. No matter. Whoever wins that game, that’s the team I’m rooting for to win the Super Bowl.

As for Mary’s predictions?

Colts take the Jets, and I don’t think it will be that close. Sure the Jets have a good defense, but seeing how San Diego was able to move the ball last week I would expect Indy to be able to do the same. The question for me on the margin of victory is how well the Colts defense plays.

For the second game, I have to think the Vikings are the underdogs. While Brett Favre is in the midst of one of the best seasons of his career, he IS still Brett Favre. He can try too hard even with his experience, and in trying to force a pass somewhere he shouldn’t end up throwing a silly interception. The Saints have the defensive backs to capitalize should that happens. Add to that the explosive Saints offense and there is the potential for it to be a long afternoon for fans hailing from the Twin Cities. However, if Favre has one of his magical days, it could also turn out to be a hell of a game.

Mister Redenbacher, have the popcorn ready!

Copyright 2010 – Mary Rae McPherson

On Brett Favre And The Vikings

I have to say that I am a little torn over this weekend’s NFC championship game.

I mean, really I should be rooting for the Saints. After all, I work on the Amtrak train out of New Orleans. Most of the people I work with are based in New Orleans, and their rampant enthusiasm for the Saints is quite contagious. Who Dat?

Add to that the fact that the quarterback at the helm of the Saints’ success is the same quarterback who was at the helm of the beginning of the revitalization of my Chargers, Drew Brees. I love seeing him do well, as there certainly were no hard feelings when the Chargers let him go to turn the team’s future over to Phillip Rivers.

But………. call it a guilty pleasure or something along those lines, but a big part of me wants to see the Vikings go all the way.

I’ll admit it; I have at least one foot on the Favre bandwagon. Now before I go any further, I should explain something: I went into Brett Favre burnout a long time ago. Like, I don’t know, maybe a decade ago.

If you’ll recall around the time that he won three NFL MVP awards in a row, it seemed like you couldn’t turn on a sports show without someone yammering on and on about the exalted wonder that was Saint Brett. It got to the point that I wanted to yell at the TV “yeah, yeah, yeah. Screw Brett Favre! I’m sick of Brett Favre!” Not that Mr. Favre was alone in that burnout department. I got to same point with Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods and Lance Armstrong too.

Maybe I am getting mellow in my advanced years (okay, I’m only 37), but my stance has softened considerably on #4 over the years. A big part of that is that a number of other players have emerged over the years to take some of the spotlight. Until quite recently, the limelight has been shining more brightly on the Mannings and the Vicks and the Romos and so on. Favre became human before he became superhuman.

So Brett, you won me over. How can you not root for a man who hasn’t missed a start in 17 years and still plays with the enthusiasm of a kid making his first start in high school? In recent years, he has rewritten the NFL record books while playing on teams that haven’t exactly been among the best he has been on. At his age he has continued to play the game at a level most have never managed in their prime and has done so while going through some tough personal trials in a very public manner, such as his father’s death and his wife’s cancer. Packer fan or not, you have to admire what this man has accomplished.

Then he comes to the Vikings after leaving the Packers in less than ideal circumstances and a less than spectacular year in New York. He comes to the team toward the end of training camp with little time to work with the team’s system, leading one to think this is going to be a disaster fueled by the ego of a guy who doesn’t know when to quit. And what happens? The guy proceeds to have what has arguably been the best season of his entire career.

WHAT?!?

Then you have the Vikings themselves. The team that has been so close so many times, but has never managed to make it over the top. The perpetual also-rans of the NFL. No matter the great players, great coaches and great teams, they always came up short when it really mattered. They lost Super Bowls to Kansas City, Miami, Pittsburgh and Oakland. So many more times they fell in the playoffs.

So think about it.

The team that has been so close so many times starts the summer with so many questions and not many expectations to go all the way. Then at the last minute, the oldest quarterback in the league comes out of retirement (again) to sign with the team at the last minute. Despite pundits clamoring that this quarterback is well past his prime, if not completely washed up, he proceeds to have the best year of his storied career and has the team on the verge of going to the Super Bowl.

Disney couldn’t have come up with a more improbable script, right?

So while by all rights I should be rooting for New Orleans on Sunday, I can’t help the thought that it would really be cool to see the Minnesota Vikings take the NFC championship game. Sorry Drew. But regardless of who wins Sunday, I’ll be pulling for the NFC team in this years Super Bowl.

My father, the old AFL man, might just disown me for that one!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/jvstin/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Copyright 2010 – Mary Rae McPherson

Looking Back On A Great Saluki Team, Two Decades Later

It has been twenty years since I saw my first great Saluki basketball team.

I grew up a fan of the Southern Illinois University men’s basketball team, and I had seen some really bad teams over the years. I became aware of the basketball program during the Joe Gottfried era, which included a team that lost every single Missouri Valley Conference game in the midst of an 18 game losing streak one year. Then followed the Allen Van Winkle era which was a little better, but not much. Then following a recruiting scandal, Rich Herrin replaced Van Winkle in 1985.

The payoff wasn’t immediate. The Saluki’s record dropped from 14-14 to 8-20 in Herrin’s first year, 12-17 in the second and 12-16 in the third. The next year we knew we were turning a corner when we beat Villanova 102-81 in an early season tournament in San Juan, Puerto Rico. The team slumped later in the season and managed only a 7-9 conference record, but then came alive in the conference tournament with wins against Tulsa and Illinois State to advance to the tournament championship game against Creighton.

One play from that game made the ESPN blooper reels for years, as shooting guard Freddie McSwain stole the ball and attempted a reverse dunk on the run out. Instead of what would have been a spectacular play, the ball bounced off of McSwain’s head and bounced out of the hoop. No basket. That basket accounted for the difference in the game as the Blue Jays won 79-77. SIU went on to play in the National Invitational Tournament, where they were blasted by St. Louis University to wind up the season with a 20-14 record.

The 1989-90 team was one to remember. The Salukis had a collection of talent that perhaps has gotten overlooked due to the success that has followed. Perhaps the biggest stars on the team that year were shooting guard Freddie McSwain and center Jerry Jones; both seniors and in their second seasons with the team. Jones was a 6’6” bruiser who was able to overpower taller players, and McSwain was an athletic shooting guard whose dunks brought an energy to the crowds that had been missing for years at the SIU arena.

Also on the team were three future Saluki hall of famers: Sterling Mahan, Rick Shipley and Ashraf Amaya. Amaya was a freshman and only showed flashes of the dominant player he would become, but both Mahan and Shipley were in the prime of their careers. Mahan was both a smart point guard and deadly outside shooter, and Shipley was a scoring threat from anywhere from the three point line in while also being perhaps the best rebounder in Saluki history. Other key players included three point specialist Matt “Wynchester” Wynn, forward Kelvan Lawrence, Guard Tyrone Bell, and center David Busch.

The team started the season with six consecutive wins, including a triple overtime game at Murray State that included a buzzer beating thirty-five-foot game-tying three-pointer by Sterling Mahan and also included coach Herrin being ejected for arguing a technical being called on SIU for slapping the ball out of the hands of the inbounder on an inbound play (replay showed it WAS a bad call).

I was in the stands for the first loss of the season against St. Louis University on ESPN. The St. Louis team featured future NBA star Anthony Bonner and went down to the last minute before St. Louis managed to hold on for at 75-72 win. I still have the game tape, and can point myself out in the crowd seated directly behind the St. Louis bench making rude comments before the term “trash talking” became popular.

The Salukis went 4-1 in two tournaments and thrashed Eastern Kentucky 104-61 before beginning the conference schedule with an 11-2 record. They started the conference season 1-2 before going on a 12-2 run to end the season.

The conference race went down to the last night. The Salukis faced Wichita State at the arena in front of the second sell-out crowd in a row to pack the arena on February 26th. The Salukis pulled ahead in the second half, and the crowd went wild knowing that they were watching a championship performance. As the clock hit all zeros, the crowd rushed the floor in celebration. We stayed long after the game, watching as the nets were cut down and jubilant players were interviewed. It was the first taste of basketball glory Carbondale had seen in over a decade.

Once again the team came up short in the tournament championship game, losing to Illinois State by three 81-78. Hopes were high that the Salukis’ 26 victories on the season would be good for an at large bid in the NCAA tournament, but the tournament committee was in no mood to be generous to a lowly mid-major team not long removed from a decade of ineptitude.

Following the letdown of missing the big dance, the Salukis delivered a lackluster performance against Wisconsin-Green Bay in the first round of the NIT. The final score was 73-60, and the Salukis never seemed to be in the game. It was as though the fighting spirit had been drained from them with the disappointment of being passed over for the NCAA tournament.

In the years to come, post season play would become routine at SIU. Herrin’s teams enjoyed a run of success in the early to mid 90s to the point that some referred to the Missouri Valley Conference Tournament as the “Saluki Invitational” for a few years. After a slump at the end of Herrin’s tenure at the helm, the Salukis reached even further under Bruce Weber, Matt Painter and Chris Lowery in a run that included to trips to the NCAA tournament’s sweet sixteen. The Salukis and quality basketball came to be synonymous.

But in 1990, that first taste of basketball glory was something fresh and exciting for those of us in Saluki nation. It would be great for that team to be better remembered for the ride it provided.

Copyright 2010 – Mary Rae McPherson

Where The Chargers Should Go From Here

One and done in the playoffs.

Again.

Falling short is a familiar thing to those of us of the Charger fan persuasion, dating back to 1964 when the Chargers lost the AFL title game. Remember the Air Coryell days? Not a single Super Bowl. Then there was the one Super Bowl during the tenure of Bobby Ross… and a slaughter at the hands of Steve Young and the 49ers. It does seem to be a recurring theme.

And then yesterday we managed to blow it again in a game that not only was winnable, but was a game we would have won had we not handed the game to the Jets. It reminded me of the old Bill Cosby bit about playing football for Temple University:

“This guy doesn’t want to hurt me. He wants the ball. So I GAVE it to him…”

Football simply comes down to basic fundamentals. Two of the most important are playing mistake free football and controlling the line of scrimmage. The Chargers simply came up short in both departments yesterday.

First, mistake free football.

Nate Kaeding missed field goals that he normally makes. He hit 69 in a row from 40 yards or less. Yesterday he missed two, and in the process left enough points on the field to win the game. Add to that a string of stupid penalties that the Chargers had not been making during their eleven game winning streak and the bad pass Rivers threw for the second interception, and this game went from a slaughter to a stinker.

Second, the line of scrimmage. The Chargers performance at the line of scrimmage has been shaky at best all year. In his best years, Ladanian Tomlinson had a nasty offensive line and a fullback named Lorenzo Neal in front of him. Neal has been gone for two years (three if you consider his injury problems in his last season as a Charger) and an offensive line that has been consistent only in being crippled by injury. Is it then only a coincidence that Tomlinson’s production has plummeted? Yes Tomlinson may have lost a step, but if he had the blocking he had four years ago you would have seen a very different story as far as his production.

On the defensive side, the line has had the same injury problems as the O-line. The result has been inconsistent play which has seen opposing teams often seemingly able to run at will. The defensive line had a good day stopping the run with the exception of the single 53 yarder, but there was still much room for improvement. Mark Sanchez still had plenty of time to sit in the pocket and wait for receivers to get open, and even good coverage in the secondary will break down if the quarterback has all day to throw.

Well, it’s water under the bridge. Another season has gone by and it is time to start examining where to go from here.

First off is the running back situation. Ladanian Tomlinson is likely done in San Diego. Like it or not, he will get a lot of the blame for the lack of a running game this season. If you look closely though, Tomlinson fared no worse than any other of the Chargers’ backs. It may be easy to say L.T. is done and cut him loose, but the problem starts with an offensive line that was unable to effectively block for the running game.

Regardless of Tomlinson’s status with the team, the search for his replacement needs to start now. Perhaps a good back will be available through free agency that will fill the gap. Perhaps a good back will be available in the draft. Either way, this is a need that must be addressed.

But is a running back the most pressing need? I don’t think so.

With it being time to look forward, the offensive and defensive lines need to be the top priorities. Unless there is a top flight running back still on the boards when the Chargers’ first draft choice comes up, the Chargers should be looking at a replacement for Jamal Williams first and a nasty guard second.

On the defensive side, the middle of the line has been soft whenever Williams has either been slowed by injury or out of the game altogether. Without that rock solid presence in the middle, the Chargers’ defense has be vulnerable to teams pounding the ball up the middle. This puts pressure on the line backing corps, which in turn ties up linebackers that otherwise could be putting pressure on the quarterback. Is it any wonder that sacks have been scarce the past couple of seasons when Williams has spent the majority of the time on the bench? This in turn has put additional pressure on the secondary, which has to cover receivers longer that they do when the quarterback is running for his life.

Just as with the defense, the center of the offensive line has been weak in the running game. Time and again the Chargers handed the ball off for a run up the middle, only to see the ball carrier met at the line of scrimmage. A guard with a nasty attitude and a propensity for knocking defensive lineman off the ball would work wonders for the running game.

If these needs can be addressed during the offseason, the Chargers will be in good shape for another playoff run next year.

Mary Rae McPherson

Looking Back To May

In my last post, I wrote about the end of the season for the Southern Illinois Miners. In that post, I apologized for the photography I took with my cell phone. This seemed like a good enough excuse to break out some photos that are a little bit closer to my standard.

Looking back to the third home game of the season, the Miners played the Kalamazoo Kings at Rent One Park. I brought my Cannon Rebel to the game. On this Sunday, May 31, the Miners won by a score of 11 to 4.

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At the plate.

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Letting the pitch fly.

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This swing knocked one out of the park.

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Waving the runner home.

The runner charges home as the throw reaches the relay man.

The runner slides as the throw comes to the plate.

Safe at home!

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Brad Miller swings at a pitch.

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Joey Metropolus puts one into play.

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At dusk, the game continues under the lights at Rent One Park.

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Mary Rae McPherson

Season’s End

I walked into the park hoping not to hear the siren call: “there’s always next year.”

We were so close yesterday; down four to two in the bottom of the ninth and runners on first and second with two out. The center fielder lines a shot down the first base line and into the corner. One run scores. The third base coach waves the next runner home, trying to score from first. He is thrown out at home. Game over.

We came into this final weekend in control of our own destiny. Win two and we take the division. One win and a loss by Windy City, and we make the playoffs.

So far, no good. Game one of the series wasn’t that close. Game two ends at home plate. Windy City wins their games. Now it is very simple: we need help. The last game of the season is a must win, and our arch rivals have to lose for the season to continue.

Unfortunately, “there’s always next year” is exactly what I’m expecting to hear.

Okay, so it isn’t the big leagues. Our Southern Illinois Miners are only three years old and play in the Frontier League, a small independent league with teams around the Midwest and Great Lakes region. There are no television contracts, no coverage on ESPN, and little attention paid outside of the communities where the teams play. But that doesn’t matter to the fans.

The game is exactly the same as it is in the majors: 60 feet from the pitcher’s mound to home plate, 90 feet between bases, three strikes and you’re out, three outs per inning, nine innings per game excepting a tie. It’s the same game mythology says Abner Doubleday set the rules for in Cooperstown.

In some ways, perhaps the game is better. Not better in the quality of play or in the level of athlete perhaps, but more personable. This brand of baseball is perhaps a throwback to an earlier era. It is not a game played by multi-millioniare prima-donnas but by guys playing for the love of the game. Guys who may have dreams of making it to the big leagues one day, or who realize the sun has set on the big dream but want to keep playing as long as they can nonetheless.

Things are not looking good by the time our game starts. Windy City has already jumped out to a big lead early in the game.

Even in a small minor league stadium like this, the baseball park is a special place. There is the sound of the crowd; a thousand conversations going on at once, pausing as the pitcher lets the ball fly and resuming when the ball hit’s the catcher’s mitt. Unless the bat makes contact with the ball, of course. Or the pitch was an important one. Or the umpire’s call was questionable; and sometimes even if it wasn’t.

“What game are you watching, ump?!?”

The beer guy makes his way through the stands, his voice bellowing:

“Peanuts!!! Cracker Jacks!!!”

The crowd joins in.

“Ice cold BEER!!!”

The chorus roams throughout the stands as he makes his rounds.

There is the crack of the bat hitting the ball, and a foul ball sails back over the crowd and out of play. From the stadium speakers comes the sound of breaking glass and a pitch for The Glass Doctor.

“The Glass Doctor will fix your panes.”

The Miners take a one run lead in the first inning. The Rascals respond with a run in the second, and the Miners reply in kind. In the third, the Rascals tie the game. Then the Miners jump all over the Rascals’ pitcher and score four more in the bottom of the third, and follow that up with five more in the fourth.

It doesn’t matter. By the fifth inning, we know this game is our swan song. Windy City has won over Rockford, 10 to 6. No matter what we do, the season ends tonight.

I sigh in my seat overlooking third base. This is the last time I’ll be here this year. I look around and take in the atmosphere of the park. A fragrant cloud of smoke hangs over the Buffalo Bar-N-Grille on the concourse above the right field foul line. Stronger and more alluring yet is the Philly Cheese Steak someone just sat down with a few seats over. Tempting, if I hadn’t already eaten.

Down in the corner by the left foul pole, groups of kids are running around and playing. They are also hoping to have a shot at the ball if a homer or a long foul comes their way. Behind them and beyond the fence that guards the edge of the park is a pond that may well have once been dug by an old strip mine. A sign on the left field fence proclaims that seven homers have splashed down in the pond this year. Another comes close to joining it but hooks foul and toward the crowd of playing kids, who scramble for a souvenir that might just end up with a few signatures on it after the game.

The starting pitchers come out of and both managers start to rotate players into the game, getting the bench players some playing time in this last game of the regular season. Some of them may be back next year, some may not.

After exploding with 11 runs in the first four innings, our bats quiet down. The Rascals manage a few runs, but never mount a serious threat. As the third out is recorded in the bottom of the 8th, the reality hits that we have likely just seen the last Miners’ batter of the year. Several minutes later, a Rascals batter flies out to left field for the final out of the game. We end the season on a positive note, but there is the melancholy feeling that the season is over and we let it get away. The Rascals will play again this year; they clinched the division when they beat us last night.

The players shake hands with each other. Some of them head to the locker room and some stick around as fans begin to pour out and onto the field. Players find themselves surrounded by fans young and not quite so young; some posing for photos with the players and some with souvenirs to sign. These guys may not be big leaguers, but they are still heroes to scores of adoring fans. How many of them will be back in the black and white of the Miners next year?

I step out and onto the field. It’s softer than I expect, and I think it would be fun to play on. I walk around and see several of the players; thanking them for the good show they put on this season. We may have come up a game short, but it was still a fun ride. These are our guys, and we love them for it.

After several minutes, the field lights dim and a fireworks show puts an exclamation point on the night. The show goes on for several minutes, capped off by a spectacular grand finale. Then the lights come back on and the crowd begins to filter toward the exits.

I make my way up the stairs and out the front door. The sign still looks inviting even as I leave following the last game of the season. I’ll be back to Rent-One Park when the games start again.

There’s always next year.

Author’s Note: I was not planning on doing photography at the game; photos were taken on a cell phone. Please excuse the quality. Thanks.

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Mary Rae McPherson