Peyton Manning is Not Superhuman, and I'm Okay With That

All my sports heros from my childhood are gone. Chipper Jones and John Smoltz have retired, Reggie White has passed away, and Brett Favre’s mind is starting to betray him. My last connection to watching sports as a kid is Peyton Manning, but every game gets a little more bittersweet to watch.

Manning, by every conceivable measure, is having the season of his life. But have you watched him play? Have you seen his face during a game? He looks tired and worn down, like a farmer after decades of fighting nature. His eyes are sunken and faded. The man looks old.

Like every other East Tennessee kid around my age, I have lived believing Peyton was mythic. Super-human. Now, even in his success, he seems exposed. Watching him play these last two weeks in New England and Kansas City was like reading “The Death of Superman” or the final scenes of Beowulf. It’s difficult for me to grasp there will be a time he won’t be playing football, but it looks so inevitable now.

However, maybe it’s for the best I see him this way. Not as a fading superhero, but as a man. When I accepted that my dad wasn’t the character I’d created him to be, I grew to appreciate who he was. So much of my devotion to Peyton was built around what he did for me as a fan, but maybe it’s better to see him as a no more of a man than I am. Sport is at its best when we as fans are compelled to be great because we see greatness in athletes. The best thing I’ll ever gain from watching Peyton is to be as amazing in my life as he was on the field.

Still, something in me will change when he’s gone. That connection to my 12 year old, football obsessed self will seem a little more distant, and I’ll be a little bit older. But until then, I’ll watch every snap I can. I’ll get sappy and nostalgic and tell my wife stories about where I was when he did something I’d never seen before, because it's a hell of a lot of fun to feel like a kid.

We Need to Stop Celebrating Nick Saban

In high school, I was the worst player on my baseball team that was winless for two years. 

I’m not exaggerating. I could not throw, hit, field, or run the bases well. I was an excellent encourager.

To my coach, my inept abilities on the field embodied our team’s inept abilities to come within ten runs of the other team. He went particularly ballistic on my failures, and berated me during games in front of my teammates. The upper-classmen followed suit, and I was the butt of most of their jokes.

I’m a grown man now. I’ve got a wife, two kids, a dog, a mortgage, and all the other normal things grown men have. But I still think of what happened when I was 17, walking off the field at Maryville College with my coach screaming in my ear because I didn’t run to third when I had the chance. I can still see the look on his face, enraged by what I couldn’t do.

Will West’s (WNML) rant about Nick Saban brought me back to that moment on the field. Back to that dehumanizing moment, like I might as well be the shit on the bottom of his shoe. Men like Saban don’t need to be celebrated and worshipped. They need to be stopped. His verbal abuse of players is no different than Mike Rice at Rutgers. It’s just as hurtful, if not more so.

We need to stop accepting this type of behavior as “tough love”. It’s not. It’s abuse of athletes who do not have the ability to speak up for themselves. 

In Defense of Tom Crean

We give up certain things in adulthood, like driving all night to (insert random city) or going to Taco Bell at 2 am. The list is longer if you're in a leadership position. It's even longer if your leadership position is the head coach of a major college basketball team.

So when Tom Crean went ballistic on Michigan assistant and former Indiana assistant Jeff Meyer after the Hoosiers’ win Sunday for his role in the crippling sanctions handed down on IU in 2008, Crean of course got the “you should have been the adult” treatment from writers and analysts (most notably by ESPN’s Dana O’Neil). He later apologized publicly, calling it a "professional misunderstanding", and said he called Meyer to apologize on his way back to Bloomington.

IU fans should have greeted him at the airport like a conquering hero.

Crean did everything you could ever want from a coach. While most in the profession more closely resemble mercenaries than father figures, Crean did a very adult act and stood up for IU the same way a dad stands up for his child that's been shoved on the playground. He stood up for Christian Watford and Jordan Hulls who bought into the program when in it was 6-25 and had one conference win. He stood up for the administrators who patiently stood by him while he struggled his first three years. He stood up for the fans that kept showing up at Assembly Hall.

If I'm a recruit, this speaks volumes of Crean’s commitment to the team and tells me he will come to blows if he must in my defense.

He might be the new coach everyone loves to hate, but if I’m a Hoosier fan, that’s a black hat I’ll wear any day. College basketball could use more Tom Creans.

Kentucky's Struggles and Why College Basketball Might be Okay

On the eve of last year’s Final Four, Chuck Klosterman wrote one of my favorite articles of 2012, titled “Kentucky’s Death March”. It declared college basketball, as we know it, was ending because John Calipari’s evil genius empire of stud players who should have gone straight to the NBA meant the sport was now professionalized, that the traditional, power programs would adapt, and college basketball would become “a niche sport for people like me (Klosterman)- people who can’t get over the past.”

At the time, his fears seemed plausible, if not inevitable. Fast forward 12 months, however, and his fears seem a little overstated.

(I’m not bashing Klosterman in the least. Hindsight is the easiest way to troll a writer who puts out a bold statement. Years from now he could end up being right.)

Kentucky has struggled with a collection of freshmen who have, well... played like freshmen. The team has lacked leadership and looked downright sloppy in a mediocre at best SEC. So much so it may miss the tournament all together.

Kentucky in the NIT? Think of how shocking that is. Sports writers (like any other fan) tend to exaggerate, but UK forever dominating with one-and-dones seemed like such an inevitability. Today, they’re in the “First Four Out” with Southern Miss and Alabama.

So at least for the moment, the basketball purists can breathe easy. Gonzaga may finish the season number one, the Player of the Year and Defensive POY will likely be upperclassmen (Victor Oladipo and Jeff Withey), and only two freshmen have a remote shot at being a first team All-American (Ben McLemore and Marcus Smart). Kentucky will still turn its freshmen into first round picks (even if one has a torn ACL), and this lamenting might start all over again when Cal brings in his next round of superstars. But for now, this season is for the old school.

Unless the NBA becomes altruistic and decides to change its rules, the one and done player is as much a part of college hoops as irrationally hating Duke. But UK’s struggles have at least brought us back to reality that the sport isn’t on its death bed. As exciting as this season has been, it seems far from it.

Let’s Just Scrap the Top 25 in College Basketball

I'm serious. The best argument to get rid of it is to ask for a reason why we shouldn’t. The so called “number one team” has lost so many times that Gonzaga is about to claim the top spot going into the final week of the season.

Does anyone outside the Northwest believe the Zags are the best team in the country? Of course not, but they’ll be called “Number One Gonzaga” for the rest of the season by announcers and analysts who don’t for a second believe what they’re saying.

So why do we do this? Aside from “It’s always been done”, the only reason the college basketball world holds onto this obsolete tradition is the same reason the NCAA holds onto its obsolete “amateur” label: money.

If the NCAA and conference commissioners want to keep ESPN and CBS happy and shelling out millions, then they better provide every marketing tool possible. Can you imagine this commercial for the Duke/Miami rematch without a number attached to their names? Because it’s #3 vs #5, it validates why you should spend your Saturday evening in front of the TV.

But after this season especially, shouldn’t we as fans be smarter than this? Is it necessary for a bunch of AP sports writers to affirm my decision to watch Miami and Duke, or would it make a difference if they were ranked 13th and 15th? Are ratings for Gonzaga games going to go throw the roof because our arbitrary system says they're number one?

I’ll throw it out there again. The best argument to scrap it is to ask, “Why not”?

Ignore the NCAA? It's More Possible Than You Think

I’ve devoted a significant amount of my posts on this blog criticizing the NCAA. Admittedly, the organization is an easy target, and its hypocritical policies strike a sensitive chord for me as it does anyone else who loves college sports more than they probably should.

But after this most recent revelation in the ongoing case against Miami and NCAA President Mark Emmert’s “pass the buck” attitude, I’m beginning to wonder what would happen if member schools finally said enough and started ignoring the NCAA.

Seriously. Think about it for a sec ........................ What would happen if Miami President Donna Shalala called up Emmert’s office in Indy and said, “Screw you guys,” and removed themselves from the NCAA completely? What would happen if they convinced the Florida schools or ACC schools to join them? Or if Penn State, USC, UCLA, and Ohio State all joined in after they went through their own garbage investigations? With mega-conferences an inevitability, is it really that far fetched?

Schools are NCAA members by choice. I don’t understand the legality of the agreement between the two entities (and I don’t pretend to), but I do understand no one is forcing any of these member institutions to go along with NCAA by-laws. The organization exists because universities allow it to exist, which makes all this uproar about the Miami case all the more ironic.

P.S. In the mood for more frustrating, hypocritical irony? Check out this little gem on the NCAA attacking academic freedom.

What it Means to be Great in College Basketball

LeBron James and Dwayne Wade were at the Miami-UNC game.

Think about that. @KingJames and Wade (who would have never considered playing for the Hurricanes as 18 year-olds) were sitting court side wearing glasses they don’t actually need to see the U play an unranked UNC. It was an incredible show of validation for the hottest thing going in college basketball.

Miami has two bad losses, one against Florida Gulf Coast in just the second game of the season and the other in overtime against Indiana State on Christmas Day in Hawaii in a game I’m sure no one wanted to play or watch. But since, the Canes have been on an absolute tear, winning on average by nearly 14 in conference play. They are 10-0 in the ACC. They’ve routed both UNC and Duke. They're currently the favorite to earn the number one overall seed in the tournament.

So why is it, with a team playing as well as anyone in any season, are sports writers, analysts, and fans (myself included) continuing to lament the end of great, legendary teams in college basketball?

It's time we all changed what it means to be great.

In my generation, the sport has been dominated by four programs: Duke, UNC, Kentucky, and UConn. Combined, they’ve won 13 titles since 1991. Florida, Kansas, and Michigan State have had great, Final Four teams during this time as well, and they’ve all produced top level, pro talent. Just off the top of my head, I can think of ten NBA All-Stars and two sure-fire Hall of Famers (Grant Hill and Antwan Jamison).

As a fan of one of the 200 or so other D-1 schools, this is very, very boring.

In sports, parity can be an incredible asset and the lack thereof can be a debilitating weakness. (The contrasting trends in popularity between the NFL and MLB is a perfect example.) When more teams have a shot, more fans watch. March Madness is the biggest “any team can win” tournament in American sports, and its television ratings were at an 18 year high in 2012 (even with Duke and UConn losing in the first round). Even when VCU and Butler made the Final Four in 2011, ratings were tied for the highest since 2005. That period includes the 2008 tourney when all four top seeds made it to the final weekend

Miami doesn’t look the part of a traditional powerhouse program, but, ironically, it has so much that basketball romantics romanticize. The team is mostly upperclassmen, the best player is a senior (Durand Scott), and all five starters average nine points or more. If the Hurricanes can win at Cameron on March second, this team has a legit shot to go undefeated in conference play. (Something the ’05 and ’08 Tar Heels couldn’t do.) The only difference between this team and the “great” teams before is Miami is winning without consensus All-Americans or lottery picks. And isn’t that more exciting? And more impressive?

College basketball has problems, but problems shouldn’t be confused with change. The game is different than it was in 1973, ‘83’, ’93, and ’03, so why would it not continue progressing in 2013? Rather than singing dirges of what’s been lost, why not embrace that the sport has become wide open with can’t miss excitement every night? Baseball would kill for something like that. Especially in Miami.

Thoughts on Ray Lewis and Why God Probably Won't Help You Pass a Drug Test

I’ve wanted to write a post on Ray Lewis since the win over the Broncos. Partly out of spite since watching Peyton Manning lose was a little devastating for me, but mostly because I find his misuse of scripture so infuriating. Claiming “No weapon formed against me shall prosper” as God’s promise to make your blitzes against Denver’s O-line more effective takes disrespect to another level.

But I admit, I set my sensibilities aside Sunday. I cheered for the Ravens because I like the elder Harbaugh, I think Flacco and Rice are criminally underrated, and I can’t stand the egotistical attitude of the 49ers (“Kapernicking”, Jim Harbaugh’s tantrums, everything about Michael Crabtree, etc.). I chose to forget about Lewis and enjoy the game in blissful ignorance.

And I did enjoy it. It was an amazing game, and I had as much fun as I’ve had in weeks with friends I too often fail to spend time with. It was everything you could want from a sporting event, which is both its beauty and downfall. We want so badly to see athletes do something amazing and transcendent that we’ll set aside our personal and moral beefs long enough to get what we want. My brother-in-law jokes he has to check his brain at the door before watching college football because of the rampant corruption and blatant BS going on in recruiting and in the NCAA, and I know I did the same thing on Sunday evening. It’s incredibly easy to do, but incredibly difficult to defend.

But after reading Bill Simmons’s article on PEDs, defending my blind eye just got a lot harder.

The article goes into the utter absurdity of Lewis coming back from a torn tricep in just two months when it typically takes at least six months to recover. The fact that he did it at 37, and had two of his best games in frigid temperatures (Denver and New England) make it even more inconceivable, giving validity to the claims he used PEDs (deer antler spray) to speed up his recovery. He goes on to say how frustrating to watch the sports media skate around this possibility (himself included) because of the damning ramifications of even remotely hinting at a player’s PED use without solid proof (i.e. a friggin’ syringe or something).

It was a bold and passionate article, and it made me remember why I can’t stand Ray Lewis.

Sports fans, like anyone else, want something incredible. Something unbelievable. It’s what made Lewis’s story so amazing at first and seem so fake now. It’s like Lance Armstrong; overcoming incredible adversity to become a champion, only to be outed as a fraud. Lewis, however, brought God into his deception, manipulating the faiths and beliefs of his audience. As my friend Matt put it, “it demonstrates at best an incredibly immature faith and at worst an understanding that playing the God card is a pretty good way to end any particular line of questioning.”

If guilty of taking PEDs, Ray Lewis using God as his source of superhuman strength to conceal his drug use is along the lines of fake pastors who claim healing powers while preying on those desperate to believe in something. It’s calculating. It’s scheming. It’s despicable.

Simmons concluded his article by saying, if given the choice, he’d rather see Lewis pee in a cup than watch Beyonce at halftime. While I understand the sentiment, maybe it’s time to look elsewhere for our sports heros. I’m starting with this guy.

The Drag of Swag: Marshall Henderson Needs to Get Over Himself

I assume I’m like most people when I say there is something about arrogance that is so irresistible. Extreme confidence. It sucks me in. I find myself rooting for or against teams or players based solely on their level of humility shown. It’s an asinine rationale since I’m coming to this conclusion of who these athletes are as people by what I can see on my 19 inch screen, but it happens almost every time I watch sports.

For this reason, Marshall Henderson has drawn more attention to Ole Miss than anyone not named Manning for both his 19 PPG and his apparent desire for an opposing student section to throw batteries at him. He’s so totally contrary to the humble, soup kitchen volunteer, athlete long glorified by the NCAA that his divisiveness has risen to Carmelo Anthony levels.

But Tuesday night was when Henderson’s extreme belief in himself came to a screeching halt. Against ultra-arrogant John Calipari and ultra-arrogant Kentucky, Henderson was a complete non-factor. He finished with 21 points, but in the same way Allen Iverson used to score in the 30s or 40s. He was just 5 of 19 from the floor, including 2 of 11 from range. It was one of those games you wish Bob Knight was announcing so he could rip apart what missing 14 shots can do to a team.

Bravado aside, Henderson is in reality a very mediocre shooter. He’s just 35 percent from the field in conference play, which is just slightly below his season average of 38 percent. He consistently misses double digit shots, and in the now infamous Auburn game, he was a putrid 26 percent from the floor. A performance hardly worthy of the performance he gave after the game.

But it was that show of cockiness to the Auburn student section that drew the national spotlight on Oxford last night, and left Ole Miss exposed as a team that’s not ready to join the nation’s elite. On how his team could handle Henderson, Calipari said he told his players:

“Oh, I’d like us to lose our composure. That’s what I’m looking for. Like, lose your composure. Get mad. Get angry. Be mad to be great. (Pretends to be moping, then getting bumped by someone) ‘Oh, sorry.’ What? Be mad. And if he talks to you, talk back to him. I mean, just be mad. Compete, fight, battle, toughness, swagger. It’s hard to have a swagger when you’re ducking and you’re running. You gotta dig your heels in. That’s why I’m saying all this stuff is good for our team. If we’re going to get it, it’s competing in games like this and learning and growing.”

This is what the Rebels can expect every game. Elite athletes hate to be shown up, probably more so than any other group of people, and Henderson has unfairly and selfishly put this target on his team. Ole Miss has great potential to do something special this season, but it will continue to underachieve unless it’s lead scorer learns to get over himself.

The NCAA has Become a Joke, Which Makes Them Even More Dangerous

To this day, Joaquin Phoenix’s portrayal of Caesar in Gladiator is my favorite villian. He’s got everything in that role; equal parts powerful and bat-shit crazy. At any moment, he could either embrace you or rip off your ears, and both would be completely believable.

The NCAA is the non-murderous version of this. (unless you’re a Penn State or SMU fan, then they are definitely murderous.) While claiming to be the savior of the purity of college sports, President Mark Emmert could easily jump between statements like (concerning the Miami investigation) “I am deeply disappointed and frustrated, even angry about these circumstances,” and “AM I NOT MERCIFUL?!?!?!” It wouldn’t be that far of a stretch.

Emmert and Co. have been taking it on the chin for a while, and they’ve responded by puffing their chest and coming down even harder to prove they’re in charge (i.e. Penn State and USC). This is a frightening position for Miami, considering all the backlash might propel the NCAA to fight even harder and punish stronger to assure its control (like a dictator squashing a rebellion). Dan Le Batard of the Miami Herald said on The Herd;

“You don’t know whether to laugh at them or fear them,”... “These people have to justify their existence. They have to justify the time, money, and resources spent on the investigation over a couple of years, and it’s always scary when you’re looking for fairness from people who have to do this.”

But even with all this uncertainty hanging over them, you gotta love Miami’s “F--- you” message while blowing out Duke, the NCAA’s golden calf. Classic Hurricanes.