Sometimes football games can’t help themselves — they’re football games. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Last night’s was a throwback number. We could’ve been watching on a black and white Philco.
Consider this: The game was loaded with hard but clean hits. The first of two personal fouls for trying to hurt someone wasn’t called until 47 seconds was left in the third. Even James Harrison tackled from the waist, down.
And almost no showboating.
Only one replay challenge, and that with 25 seconds left in the third quarter! And that was a waste of time. FOX even kept the silly graphics down (although after posting Aaron Rodgers’ passer rating, the next noted that the Packers had dropped four of his passes. Geez!).
What we saw was what we got: An NFL-style game, circa 1960-75. Good for the NFL, good for us. Even before Pittsburgh made it exciting, it was interesting.
FOX’s Troy Aikman recognized the good old stuff, early, noting, on successive plays, that Steelers tight end David Johnson lined up as a blocking back, then led running back Rashard Mendenhall off right tackle for good gains (and he didn’t say “positive yardage”).
Coulda been Jim Taylor leading Paul Hornung or Franco Harris followed by Frenchy Fuqua.
Say, why did the Steelers abandon that play?
Even the injuries — legs, knees, shoulders, as opposed to heads, brains — seemed like the residue of a Fran Tarkenton scramble.
FOX had some strong story-telling moments. Instead of Jerry Jones, it keyed on injured Packer DB Charles Woodson, emoting — and wincing — from the sideline.
And Joe Buck just told the story, and told it well, without trying (too hard) to make his mark. Aikman was unusually strong, no more so than late, when he used a replay to correct himself.
Just a good game attached to some good TV. Hey, it happens.
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Potpourri: National Anthem? Apparently, Christina Aguilera
was unfamiliar with the song. The commercials? Too many of the young wise-guy variety, more naughty — sex, sex, sex, sex, sex — than clever or funny. But that’s the bag we’re in.
At halftime, the Black Eyed Peas
were very good, but since when does an Usher
work without a flashlight?
Analysts must admit sticking foot in mouth
If I were King, the first rule of my Rule would be that game analysts plainly admit when they’re wrong. Never allow your audience to believe your ego comes before their good senses. Never tell an audience, let alone insist to one, that they should disregard what they see and instead believe what you tell them.
Late in CBS’ St. John’s-UCLA, Saturday, St. John’s senior Justin Brownlee
, trying to work the ball inside, very clearly dribbled it off his foot, out of bounds. It was hard to miss.
But analyst Greg Anthony
saw it as the result of strong, swat-away defense by UCLA center Joshua Smith
. OK, if Anthony missed it, no big deal. And if a replay appeared he’d see he missed it, then make good on it.
A replay appeared. Brownlee dribbled the ball off his foot; Smith, backing up, played almost no defense, likely to prevent fouling with UCLA leading by five, late. But Anthony not only stuck with his story, he walked us through the play, carefully noting what happened — although nothing close to what he described happened.
“This is a perfect example. . . . He gets in with the reach-in . . . excellent play by the big fella.”
Credibility killer.
The baloney distribution didn’t end there. On Versus, where UNLV was playing BYU, a thumbnail of Brice Massamba
, who is 6-foot-10 from Sweden, was given. “He went to Findlay Prep in Las Vegas,” said play-by-player Tim Neverett
.
Hmmm. As look-harder fans know — UNLV, Sweden, Vegas Prep school — now, there’s a yellow light.
“And what a great program that is,” chirped analyst Blaine Fowler
. “They’ve had a lot of foreign players come in there, right there by UNLV, where they can evaluate talent.”
Red light.
Great program?
No doubt; it wins national titles. But what kind of school
is Findlay? Recruiters, local journalists and fans know it as a basketball warehouse, another netherworld front for a college-feeder basketball team. Findlay exists — barely — as a dubious adjunct of another Vegas prep school.
Howard’s opinions get ugly
Two guys talking sports: That Phil Simms-Desmond Howard
collision at the Super Bowl seems as foolish as it was ugly.
1) Howard was off from the start. Sure, he’s entitled to and paid for his opinion. But you don’t trash any teenaged athlete, certainly not on national TV. One can express himself in a more humane and delicate manner, call Matt Simms
“disappointing,” rather than among the SEC’s “worst.”
That’s harsh, unnecessary. If Howard doesn’t regret what he said, he should.
2) Simms made it worse by confronting Howard. He could hear much worse from adults about his son sitting in the stands on game day. As Simms must know by now, it comes with big time college ball — University of Tennessee — and it comes with the position: quarterback.
And who, besides Simms, if they heard Howard, even remembered what he said about his kid? If Simms doesn’t regret approaching Howard on it, he should.
3) For Howard to have immediately started tweeting about it seemed an exercise in the worst kind of new-age attention-grabbing. And it makes him a very unsympathetic fellow if and when someone sees him in a bad moment then immediately starts spreading the word.
If Howard doesn’t regret his all-in instant messaging, he should, because he will.
Hey, when my dad used to hear bad stuff about me he’d say: “You don’t know the half of it.”
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Those who attended the Devils-Rangers game on Feb. 3 likely held a ticket with a Subway sandwich offer — “Get a Sub for Your Stub” — on the back. The offer’s expiration date: “12/31/10.”
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Yes, that was Washington, school colors purple and gold, playing in their Nike-issue black uniforms at Nike-owned Oregon, on MSG, Saturday.