Sunday, November 6, 2011

Please Don't Tell Me----The Play Is Under Review


As I watched NFL football tonight, I had a rush of nostalgia.

The referee threw a penalty flag against “Baltimore.”

It made it think about some of the things I remember….that are no-more.

-I remember when the quarterback for Baltimore wore high top black shoes….and had a horseshoe on his helmet….not some funky bird. 

I was really watching the old Cleveland Browns…who moved to Baltimore when Baltimore moved to Indianapolis. And the league (which thought the Cleveland folks got a bum deal) put another team in Cleveland and called them the Browns.  This is evidence that I am getting very old.

Back in the day…

-I remember chipping ice out of my seat in November to watch the St. Louis Football Cardinals. Today the Cardinals played in the desert and beat the “St. Louis Rams.” 

-I remember when the Los Angeles Rams wore classy white uniforms and even classier dark helmets with the horn being a bright white.

-Greatness was defined by extraordinary athletic ability….like the great Gayle Sayers…the rugged power of Jim Brown….the fear instilled by Dick Brutus…and the utter dependability of Jim Bakken.

-Great leaders like Lombardi, Landry, Noll and my personal childhood favorite .Don Coryell defined genius. Lombardi made simple plays, like a power sweep, into a quest for perfection. Landry was the stoic master of the Doomsday Defense. Noll mixed dominant defense with a multi-faceted offense. And Coryell…ahh…Don Coryell was the maestro of the consummate passing game.

-I can still see Larry Wilson, the greatest safety to have ever played the game, make an interception with two broken arms. My memory has captured. his stealthy safety blitz, which has never been replicated with such precision.

 Football is way to sterile today. I visited the new Cowboys Stadium last summer and while it is a magnificent structure----with a video screen that makes you watch it---and not the action on the field---It is way to nice for football. Football should be played on a field where the baseball infield is still apparent. Men need to toil on dirt, not fluffy carpet. Rain and snow need to fall towards the end of the season and linemen need to get dirty.

If I were a professional football player, I’d long for a good rain on real turf.

Real football players don’t get “turf toe.” And if they did, they’d play through the pain.

The football of my youth was pocked with lousy calls by incompetent referees. Today, they blow a call and some buddy in the replay booth has their back. While the digital video is being reviewed-----we get another five Miller Light commercials.

I hate it.

Give me Johnny U. drawing up plays in the dirt.

Give me Jackie Smith dragging five scrawny defensive backs into the end zone.

Oh Lord…. what ever happened to Jimmy The Greek?

Gimme a good, late hit----helmet to helmet----without a flag.

Its no longer a game played by men.

I am going to have to accept that this is just one long beer commercial played by interchangeable parts.

On carpet….

In air conditioning…

By Ravens.





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