Dwight White, RIP

Steel Curtain's 'Mad Dog' dies

Dwight White shook off pneumonia to star in Super Bowl IX

Half the Steel Curtain gone in the last six months.

Praising the Greatest Generation

Here is an article by the always thought-provoking David Gelernter:

Too Much, Too Late

Baby boomers heap insincere praise on the "greatest generation."

The campaign is especially intense among members of the 1960s generation who once chose to treat all present and former soldiers like dirt and are willing at long last to risk some friendly words about World War II veterans, now that most are safely underground and guaranteed not to talk back, enjoy their celebrity or start acting like they own the joint. A quick glance at the famous Hemingway B.S. detector shows the needle pegged at Maximum, where it's been all week, from Memorial Day through the D-Day anniversary run-up.

A great example in support of Gelernter’s critique shows up clearly in the treatment of Cowboy’s coach Tom Landry. For most of his career, he was mocked as Robo-coach. His stoic demeanor was completely out of step with the Swinging 60s and the Me-Decade 70s. For many reporters it was evidence of a flawed personality. Landry, it was said, (and said and said) had a computer where his heart should be. He showed no emotion because he lacked passion and empathy.

It was glib and easy to repeat. That it was not true was of little concern to the new breed of sportswriters and TV men.

Cowboy great Bob Lilly understood the Landry manner because he had seen it before. He understood its roots. It was the way that men of that generation acted, especially after they came back from the war.

Landry served in the Army Air Force in World War two. He flew 30 bomber missions over Germany. His brother Robert, also in the AAF, died in a B-17 crash in 1943.

George MacDonald Fraser, who served in Slim’s army in Burma, described the attitude of the veteran soldier:

the resolve to conceal emotion which is not only embarrassing and useless, but harmful, is just plain common sense.

He could have been writing about Tom Landry, man and coach. Of course, no one in American sports media was perceptive enough to write like that about Landry when he was coaching.

Draft day and maximum football happiness

I am not obsessive about the NFL draft. I do not spend weeks listening to Mel Kiper, Jr. announce which offensive tackle the Vikings will select win the fourth round. I certainly do not participate in any mock drafts.

ESPN’s coverage of the NFL represents the worst aspects of modern journalism. Speculation is piled upon speculation. Talking heads argue over questions that can only be clarified by the passage of time. We will not know if the Giant’s had a good draft until 2011, so why argue about it today?

I like draft weekend because it marks the annual peak in collective happiness for NFL fans. On Monday morning, fans of every team can look at their roster and start some concrete dreaming:

That guard from Texas could really solidify our o-line. Maybe our running game will be effective this year.

Two new fast receivers. Good. We will finally have some big plays in the passing game.

That nose tackle is an absolute beast in the middle. If our all-pro end bounces back from his injuries, our run defense will be stellar.

Woo-hoo! We traded for Chad Johnson. We finally have a pro-bowler on offense.

Woot! We got rid of Ocho Conco. Now our locker room won’t have that train wreck distracting everyone.

Well, it’s not the worst draft Matt Millen had.

From this point forward, it is down hill. First there is the slow attrition of rookie holdouts, training camp injuries, and pre-season jitters. Then, of course, the regular season is a zero-sum game when it comes fan happiness.

But all that is in the future. On Monday, we NFL fans are united in our optimism. (Except of Eagles fans who seem to maximize their happiness by seeing the dark lining of every silver cloud.)

America’s Game

I feel sorry for people who don’t get the NFL network. How do they handle the football off-season? All they have is ESPN with its yapping about the Sawks and Yankees, college softball, the NBA, and poker.

The NFL network has its share of fluff (although it is football fluff). They also have the best sports series ever created: America’s Game, a history of the teams that have won the Super Bowl.

Each episode mixes game footage with interviews from three or four people from the team. These interviews are a nice blend of superstars and role-players. We hear from Starr, Namath, and Staubach, but we also hear from Randy Grossman and Chuck Mercin.

There is poignancy to many of these interviews, especially those for the first dozen or so Super Bowls. The players, superstar and role-player alike, are old men and have had decades to reflect on their shining moment. Dwight White reminds us that when Time magazine put the original Steel Curtain on its cover it was putting four black faces on real estate that was a white preserve at that time. My favorite Cowboy--Bob Lilly--hearkens back to another era when he confesses his embarrassment at throwing his helmet when Dallas lost upper Bowl V.

The film highlights and interviews recover history from the tyranny of the stats tables. When commentators talk about great running backs, they rarely mention Franco Harris anymore. His numbers look unimpressive today. But in America’s Game the viewers can see the Franco who was a marvel: a 235 pound bull going up the middle and, then, past the line of scrimmage, breaking into that long, gliding stride that made him a fullback with something extra.

In volume 10 we see the essential Franco. On a frozen field covered by icy artificial turf, Harris takes the ball against Oakland. The play is designed to go inside but there is no hole. He reverses field and breaks outside. Al Davis still whines that the Steelers iced the field that day to negate the Raiders’s team speed. Yet, there goes Franco down the sideline for a 25-yard touchdown.

The greatest Steeler, Joe Greene, give props to his old teammate. The Steelers, he notes, never won anything before Franco. But with Franco, “all we did was win.”

Winning, obviously, is the common theme to all the episodes. Despite all the changes in the game, the keys to winning remain constant. One week we see Bill Belichick in 2004 exhorting the Patriots to play “fundamentally sound football.” The next week Randy Grossman admits that Steelers football was not flashy; Chuck Noll just stressed the fundamentals, each day, every day, for years. Of course, there is Lombardi and the Sweep, refining fundamentals down to the elemental in the blast furnace of his personality and the practice field.

The two volumes on the Dolphins are notable for their insight into the alchemy of victory. The players are, rightfully, proud of their group achievements, especially the perfect 17-0 season of 1972. Yet they emphasize selflessness as the key ingredient for their success.

Larry Csonka marvels at Bob Griese play-calling in a victory over the Vikings. With the game on the line and the Dolphins driving on Minnesota’s 3 yardline, Miami used a play-action pass to score the go-ahead touchdown. Csonka, the greatest power back of the Super Bowl era, shows as much satisfaction with this play as he does for any of the times when his number was called to seal the victory. He is happy to be the decoy while Jim Mandich catches the winning score. All that mattered is that the Dolphins walked away winners.

America’s Game makes an interesting counter-point to the ESPN’s documentary “Third and a Mile.” Two of the stars of the ESPN production played on the Dolphins and Steelers. To William C. Rhoden and the WWL, Joe Gilliam and Marlin Briscoe were victims. They are, simply, black quarterbacks who were denied a chance to play that position because of their race. With America’s Game, we get context. Larry Csonka avers that that he would not have traded Bob Griese for Joe Namath. Griese’s field generalship was the key piece of the Miami machine. It was not skin color that kept Briscoe at wide receiver with Dolphins; it was Shula’s masterful orchestration of his available talent. Griese was the man who could keep the machine running without a hiccup.

When Joe Greene is asked about the quarterback controversy in 1974, he is forthright about his belief at that time that Bradshaw, not Gilliam, was the man who could best help the Steelers win.

Rhoden told his story looking only through the prism of race. He ignored the complex alchemy of winning and created a fake history. America’s Game, thankfully, rescues “the ultimate team sport” from the tyranny of the highlight clip and the falsity of ideology. It shows us what football success is all about.

How good is Big Ben?

Ben Roethlisberger just signed the biggest contract in Steeler's history and one of the largest in the NFL. Yet, based on the numbers, he is a bargain.

Mock drafts, what am i missing?

Exactly what is the point? Why try to guess what player Jacksonville will choose? What does it mean if you get it right?

On the temporal parochialism of sports yakkers

So Brett Favre retires and ESPN and sport radio is trying to figure out where he rates among the all time greats.

That’s what they say. What the yappers mean is “where does Favre rate among the great quarterbacks I saw play.”

The list seems to start in 1981 with Montana and go from there.

They give short shrift to Bart Starr who won five championships (Montana “only” won four). They never mention Roger Staubach who won two and came close to winning two more.

Was Favre “the toughest quarterback ever”? He was certainly durable. But he had the advantage of playing in an era when QBs were protected by the rules.

Check out some of the old NFL footage of games in the 1960s or early 1970s. The QBs were pounded on almost every pass. Today the refs would call it roughing the passer. Heck, in SB X they’d have ejected half of the Dallas and Pittsburgh d-lines for repeated, flagrant fouls. In 1975 it was just football.

For my money, Staubach gives Favre a run for his money on “toughness”. All those fourth quarter comebacks he engineered came after he was beaten and battered for the whole game. The defense was licking its chops knowing he had to pass. And yet, he calmly cut them to pieces time after time.

To see Staubach operate with the game on the line is something you don’t forget. The milk-drinking church-going all-American boy turned into a heartless killer, stone-cold killer.

Hit him. Knock him down. It did not matter. The ball was already on its way to Billy Joe DuPree, or Tony Hill, or Drew Pearson. You could force him out of the pocket, you could chase him all over the field, but you could not rattle him. It was toughness as cool calculation.

It’s the sort of thing you can’t find in statistics like you can find 214 consecutive starts or 50 touchdowns or 4,500 yards passing. But it was the quintessence of playing quarterback.

Myron Cope, RIP

Legendary broadcaster Myron Cope dies at 79

Cope's voice-- that unmistakable, nasal Pittsburgh voice-- is the essential soundtrack of the Steelers's dynasty. It shot out of the radio during the games-- excited, goofy, yet also astute and erudite.

He was a homer. He grew up in Pittsburgh. He pulled for the Steelers. He suffered when they lost and exulted when they won. Yet, he did not hesitate to point out poor play during the game.

Yoi, we didn't block anyone on that play!

He was a homer, but he was not blind. And he was happy to tell us what he saw.

He invented the Terrible Towel and gave away the rights. All the proceeds now go to charity.

Cope liked players. He was not the type to rip a guy just to create controversy and build ratings. He was the antithesis of the loud shock jocks who dominate sports radio today.

Any fool can argue and insult. It takes real talent to hold an audience by being informative, insightful, and interesting. For three decades in Pittsburgh Cope held his audience doing just that.

Before he went into radio Cope was a sportswriter. Actually, he was one of the best. His profiles of Muhammad Ali and Howard Cosell stand up well after forty years and still make it into anthologies. The writing sparkles and the insight still shines through. Here is a bit of the Cosell profile that ran in Sports Illustrated in 1967:

''Oh, this horizontal ladder of mediocrity,'' sighs Howard Cosell, ruminating on the people who make up the radio-television industry, which pays him roughly $175,000 a year. ''There's one thing about this business: There is no place in it for talent. That's why I don't belong. I lack sufficient mediocrity.''

Cosell fondles a martini at a table in the Warwick bar, across the street from the American Broadcasting Company headquarters. Anguish clouds his homely face. His long nose and pointed ears loom over his gin in the fashion of a dive bomber swooping in with fighter escort.

''This is a terrible business,'' he says.

It being the cocktail hour, the darkened room is packed with theatrical and Madison Avenue types. A big blonde, made up like Harlow the day after a bender, dominates a nearby table, encircled by spindly, effete little men. Gentlemen in blue suits, with vests, jam the bar.

A stocky young network man pauses at Cosell's table and cheerfully asks if he might drop by Cosell's office someday soon. Cosell says certainly, whereupon the network man joins a jovial crowd at the bar.

''He just got fired,'' Cosell whispers. ''He doesn't know that I already know.''

The man, he is positive, wants his help, but what is Cosell to do when there are men getting fired every week?

''This is the roughest, toughest, cruelest jungle in the world,'' Cosell grieves.

A waiter brings him a phone, and he orders a limousine and chauffeur from a rental agency. He cannot wait to retreat to his rustic fireside in Pound Ridge up in Westchester County.

It is Monday evening, barely the beginning of another long week in which he, Howard W. Cosell, middle-aged and tiring, must stand against the tidal wave of mediocrity, armed only with his brilliance and integrity.

Fear and loathing in Arizona

Until this season, I was not a Patriot-hater. To the contrary, I found a lot to admire in the way they played and how they won. They were smart and flexible on defense. One week they could shut down a high-powered passing offense like the Colts and then the next week they would stuff a physical running team like the Steelers. No team was better at halftime adjustments. Few teams hustled more or executed as crisply.

All of this is still true, but now it is overshadowed by the baggage. Or, to be blunt about it, the cheating and the Patriots’s arrogant response when they were caught.

Videogate is a big deal. To me, it did taint the Patriots legacy. It was a big illegal edge that is especially important in light of the narrow winning margin New England racked up in their first three Super Bowls. It was supremely relevant to Belichick’s ability to beat teams the second time around.

Sadly, the NFL blinked when they confronted the issue when they confronted the issue. While they dished out some fines, they also moved quickly to sweep the matter under the rug and to destroy the evidence.

Sports media played along. Instead of investigating the matter, jock-pundits assured us that “everyone steals signals” and it was no big deal. (If it was no big deal and if the Patriots did nothing wrong, then why even bother with the fines?)

The “every one does it” defense of the Patriots stands to in stark contrast to the on-going crusade by sportwriters against Barry Bonds. To be fair, shouldn’t they admit that his home run mark is A-OK because pitchers were juicing too?

The Patriots response was telling. Belichick churlishly refused to admit that he did anything wrong. He just copped to an inaccurate interpretation of the rules. Right after the fines were levied, his boss gave him a big raise and contract extension. His bank account never felt the pain of his “punishment.”

This is in keeping with the Patriot way. Belichick does not like the NFL’s injury reporting requirements. So he makes a mockery of it by listing Tom Brady on it by for over 50 straight weeks (4 seasons). In that time, Brady never missed a start. Belichick does not like the coaches game day dress code, so he manages to comply while at the same time looking like a tramp.

The NFL, to its shame, has tolerated this willful defiance. The new commissioner was John Wayne when it came to players and their off-field behavior. When Roger Goodell has to go nose to nose with Robert Kraft or Bill Belichick the tough talking lawman turns into Barney Fife.

This official cowardice makes its way onto the playing field. In big games, the Patriots get to push the envelope. TMQ has made this point many times but the problem continues.

Once again, not only did the weather (stiff winds died down just before kickoff) seem to be under Belichick's control, but so did the officials. Disciplined teams commit fewer penalties, and Belichick teams are disciplined -- but there's a difference between discipline and seeming to get a free pass from the officials. A few years ago, New England won an AFC championship when repeated obvious pass-interference penalties by the Patriots against the Colts went uncalled in the fourth quarter; that year, New England won the Super Bowl without ever being called for pass interference or offensive holding in the postseason. On Sunday, the Pats were flagged just twice, for 19 yards. With 11 minutes remaining and San Diego driving, Richard Seymour, after the whistle, shoved Philip Rivers to the ground directly in front of referee Jeff Triplette -- no flag. During a play, linebacker Mike Vrabel spun around his blocker, then leg-whipped Rivers, causing him to fall and throw an interception -- no flag. Reader Jacob Robertson of Rock Hill, S.C., writes, "Tripping is a penalty in the NFL, yet not only was this not called, the announcers praise New England linebackers when they cheat."

I fully expect the Patriots to win SB XLII. That will make them the greatest team in the Super Bowl-era. I’m just sorry that an extraordinary season comes with so much baggage.

Ernie Holmes, RIP

Ernie Holmes, part of Steelers Steel Curtain, dies

Ernie Holmes, a defensive lineman and member of the famed Steel Curtain for the Steelers in their dynasty years in the 1970s, died last night in a traffic accident in Texas.

He was one of my favorites from the 70s Steelers.

Not to whine or anything

But i think these guys are right

Steelers Notebook: Lack of penalties has LBs outraged

I watched the replay several times and Jax got away with a couple of blatant holds on Garrard's 32 yard run.

That said, i think the coaches lost the game. On the Steelers's next to last drive, they needed a first down to really milk the clock and lengthen the field for the Jags. Instead, they called three unimaginative plays that forced a punt before the two minute warning.

One more example of playing it safe (read predictable) and losing.

Good teams know that the Steelers will play that way and they stop us with regularity.

That is a problem for next season. Right now, i am a Jaguars fan. It will be a glorious football season if they beat the Pats next week.

UPDATE: Apparently, i'm not the only one who feels this way.

Fear and dread in Steeler Nation

So the Steelers are 10-5 and won their division. They are in the play-offs for the third time in four years. Yet, we fans are worried and cranky. If you didn't know better, you'd think the team was 6-9.

Part of the reason is that the five losses were ugly. Good teams dominated us (Jax and the Patriots) and we made bad teams look good (Denver and the J-E-T-S- Jets Jets Jets). Not much glory in being a paper champion who makes the playoffs and then gets bounced in the first game.

I think the larger reason is that the team that wins does not look like the Steelers teams we are used to watching. No longer do we pound the ball on the ground and play suffocating defense. Now our victories are keyed to big plays in the passing game and a desperate hope that the defense can make a couple of stops. Classic Steerlers football was a 20-7 game that never felt close. This years version is perfectly captured by the second Cleveland game and the win over the Rams. No lead felt safe because no lead was safe.

What makes this concern especially worrisome is that the defense lacks young players who have shown promise. Our good players are mostly old while our recent draft choices have failed to make an impact. The defensive problems could get worse before they get better.

This is a high holiday in Steeler nation

Thirty-five years ago, Franco made the Immaculate Reception and a dynasty was born.

Facts don't lie

From Cold Hard Football Facts

Icy Issue: How come nobody talks about Ben Roethlisberger as an elite NFL quarterback?

Icier Response: Apparently people just can't believe it's possible to be so good so young.

Peter King is an idiot

Sports Illustrated actually pays him to write this garbage:

None of those items, however, was the story of the day. Ben Roethlisberger was. When I watched Roethlisberger last year, I thought, "Flawed quarterback.'' When I watched Roethlisberger on Sunday, I thought, "Franchise quarterback.''

I didn't like his lackadaisical decision-making last year, or his declining accuracy, or what I'd heard his teammates say about his work ethic. Maybe it was right, and maybe it wasn't. But Roethlisberger wasn't the most popular guy in his own locker room last year, and he needed a change. He got it.

Gee, i wonder if it occurred to him that Roethlisberger's poor 2006 performance might have something to do with a NEAR FATAL MOTORCYCLE ACCIDENT? Think that might be enough to throw him off his game?

The fat poseur ignores that elephant in the living room. Instead, he spins a grand theory out of locker-room gossip.

He also ignores a highly relevant comparison:

Peyton Manning in four post-season games (2006)

70.8 QB rating
3 Touchdowns
7 Interceptions


Ben Roethlisberger in four post-season games (2005)

101.7 QB rating
7 Touchdowns
3 interceptions

Confusing ends and means

Vic Carucci on NFL.com

I was as impressed as anyone with the way Ben Roethlisberger moved and threw his way to a franchise-record five touchdowns. But that's what a good quarterback with above-average receivers should do against a team missing both starting cornerbacks. I was as impressed as anyone with the very convincing Jack Lambert imitation that James Harrison gave in the first half. But that's part of what the league's top-ranked defense should do against an offense, and especially a quarterback, that can't out of its own way. What troubled me was seeing the Steelers' No. 2-ranked rushing attack struggle to move the ball on the ground, even if it didn't have to.

Why should a team beat their head against a wall. The Ravens sold out to stop the run and left their inexperienced DBs exposed. The Steelers made them pay for that. (Big time).

What, exactly, would be gained by running the ball into the teeth of the defense? The Steelers were already reaping the benefits of a running game.

Clash of titans

The barbarians are at the gates in Indy. All of us who believe in Truth, Justice, and the American Way are Colt's fans this week-end.

The NFL: The Big Four and the other 28

The truth is that, for more than a decade now, the NFL has been dominated by the AFC and, more specifically, it’s been dominated by the modern Fearsome Foursome: Denver, Indy, New England and Pittsburgh.

RTWT at Cold, Hard Football Facts.

"Quality fade" hits TMQ

It's not just Chinese manufacturers who dilute their product. This week's Tuesday Morning Quarterback spends more time on the gas mileage of cars, crazy over-priced restaurants, and Sci-Fi movies blunders than it does on football.

Patriots-gate

David Halberstam’s book on Belichick makes for interesting reading in light of recent events:

Damon Hack, a writer for the New York Times, noted that since Belichick had come to the Patriots, there were fourteen occasions when Belichick had had a seconde shot in a season against a given team. His record in these second-chance encounters was a striking one: fourteen victories, no defeats.

That seems like circumstantial evidence for the effectiveness of the Belichick method.

In the short-term, this also hurts Tom Brady’s image. His coolness under pressure was a marvel. Now, we know he had help.

Does this mean Charlie Weis isn’t quite the offensive genius we thought he was? Wonder if Notre Dame boosters are having second thoughts?

What about Alabama? Nick Saban was a Belichick acolyte. Think any SEC teams are going to be extra-security conscious this season?

Long-term, I don’t think this affects the Patriot “legacy”. The Raiders of the 70s were outlaws and cheapshot artists. There is no asterisk on their Super Bowl wins. John Madden coached them and then slid easily into a long television career.