You Can't Make This Stuff Up

Louisville has fessed up, kind of, to receiving plays from Wake Forest radio commentator Tommy Elrod, about which I wrote about earlier today. 

But it wasn't that many plays, and Wake didn't run any of them, so apparently it's okay.

Plus, get this, Louisville is offended that it has to address these issues because it has a bowl game to win.  Stop distracting us.

Seriously.

The statement from Louisville reads in full:

Lonnie (Gallaway, Louisville's offensive coordinator) received a call from Elrod during the week of the wake Forest game, and some information was shared with him that week.  Among the communication [sic] were a few plays that were sent and then shared with our defensive staff. None of the special plays were run during the course of the game. Our defense regularly prepares for similar formations every week in their [sic] normal game plan. Any other information that may have been discussed was nothing that our staff had not already seen while studying Wake Forest in their preparations for the game and the material was not given any further attention. I'm disappointed that this issue has brought undue attention to our football staff as we prepare for our upcoming bowl game.

So, in sum: "yes we cheated, helped by a traitor from the team that we were about to play, but hey, no harm no foul. Stop bothering us while we address the truly important issue, which is winning a bowl game, not sportsmanship or fair play. Nothing to see here. Move along."

Never mind the fact that the timing of "the issue" is due solely to Louisville's failure to report the contact at the time that it occurred. Or that regardless of whether or not it benefitted from the cheating, it cheated.

To all of which I say:

1. If Louisville plans on having Gallaway as its offensive coordinator for the bowl game, or any game in the immediate future, I hope that the ACC quickly disabuses it of that notion;

and

2. Petrino better be coming up with a better story than the time he told one looking like this:

photo from espn.com

"Get Stuffed"

You may have heard about the NFL's plan to auction off the right to entertain at halftime at the Super Bowl. The latest edition of the game will be held this coming February in Phoenix.

It's Super Bowl XLIX, if you're scoring at home (or even if you're alone, as Dan Patrick used to say), slightly less unwieldy but more optically jarring than last year's XLVIII edition. Do we really care which Super Bowl it is? They don't number the World Series, or UEFA Champions' League finals. 

Yep, you got it. Roger Goodell, in all his wisdom, has decided to make artists pay to entertain.

While having avoided the embarrassment of either being forced to move XLIX or hold it in a host state with an overtly discriminatory law, the NFL still has a lot of other issues on its plate that would seem more pressing. Like the fact that one of its franchises has an overtly racist nickname that is coming under increasing derision. And concussion lawsuits. 

Nonetheless, Goodell has blithely pressed on with his main mission: to make NFL owners lots and lots of money.

The latest well of cash to be fracked is the Super Bowl halftime show. The NFL has reportedly asked the three "finalists" (Rihanna, Katy Perry, and Coldplay) in contention to perform to pay for the right to. While even seemingly sympathetic news sources have questioned the idea, it's the reaction of the music industry that interests me more.

They're not very fond of it. 

The halftime show is undeniably a marketing boom for the performer that gets the gig (Madonna and The Who both saw huge bumps in the purchase of their music after recent appearances). Some agents have acknowledged that there may be some benefit to up-and-coming artists to have the spotlight in front of 100,000,000 viewers, but that need hardly seems to be the case for the three finalists.

But there's just something, well, smarmy about the whole idea of making artists pay to play. Not to mention the fact that the kind of artists the NFL wants (those who will keep fans glued to their sets and halftime commercials) both have the least need for the exposure and likely the biggest egos to be offended by the demand to pay.  

One thing is fairly certain. Arcade Fire will not be headlining at the University of Phoenix stadium at XLIX next year, and probably not at any Roman numeral in the future. Their agent, David Viecelli delightfully summed up his response to the NFL's attempted extortion when he said that he hopes "that everyone tells them to get stuffed."

Not coming to a Super Bowl near you. (photo from Spin)

A lot of us feel that way.

We Make the Rules

"We must picture Hell as a state where everyone is perpetually concerned about his own dignity and advancement, where everyone has a grievance, and where everyone lives the deadly serious passions of envy, self-importance, and resentment."

C.S. Lewis

An open letter from the Miami Dolphins:

Jonathan Martin didn't get it. And neither do you.

It's not that we're above the law. It's that we make the law, we are the law. An entirely different ethos applies here -- we decide what's wrong and what's right, even what's black and what's white. Envy, self-importance, resentment? Those are the qualities we were told we should build our lives around, ever since we were recruited to play college ball starting in the ninth grade, since we lost or won our first big game.

That you will never understand is a given. You in your comfortable La-Z-Boy, watching us risk our health every Sunday, not knowing if the next hit might end our careers. We gave up on you a long time ago. Sure, we depend on you to watch so that we can earn what we do playing a game, but we don't live in your world or live by your rules, and don't want you meddling with ours.

Jonathan, he could have been different from you. He had the ability, the physique, the strength to be a part of our world. But he wouldn't follow our law. He didn't join in the locker room pranks. He wouldn't help pay for a trip he didn't go on. 

And so Richie got the word (even though he probably didn't need it) to come down hard on Jonathan. To bring him into the fold. 

But Jonathan still wouldn't give in. Sure, he nodded his head and smiled sometimes, hoping Richie would stop. He may have even made a half-hearted attempt at joining in some dirty jokes or playing along with some racist comments. But he still wasn't one of us.

Even when he decided he had enough and left, in the middle of the season, we might have let him come back. We'll let outsiders hang around for a while, if they're really good or we really need them. But then Jonathan broke the biggest rule of all: never, ever, let anyone in that world know what goes on in this one.

Jonathan at the NFL combine, back when he thought
he wanted to be part of our world. (photo from thescore.com)

And by doing that, maybe Jonathan, for the first time, understands the rules. Crap stays in-house, no matter what. If you have a problem, you work it out by fighting the guy who's causing it, even if he too weighs over 300 pounds and has a long history of "character issues" up to and including the possibility that he is a sociopath. 

You don't go running to your agent or to the media. Even if you can't take it anymore. 

Because, once you do, you're never, ever getting back in. Because, once you do, you will understand the lengths we will go to to protect our code, our rules, our world. Even if it means our black players  explaining that Richie is really more black than Jonathan. Or that everyone under 40 uses the n-word all the time now; that it's not derogatory any more, it's a term of affection. Kind of like "Bro" or "Dude" in your world. Or easier stuff like that Jonathan never fit in, was stand-offish and quiet and not quite as manly as the rest of us.

It hasn't been easy to do, especially that whole Richie as an honorary black guy thing. But we did it because if we didn't there'd be no end to it. No end to your trying to impose your rules in our world.

The only funny thing these past few weeks (well, other than that honorary black guy thing)? When Jonathan's agent said that he's looking forward to playing football again. Not in this universe, pal. Not in Miami or the 31 other locker rooms. We live by our rules, not yours, not your agent's.

And our rules say welcome to Hell Jonathan.

The Best Team Doesn't Always Win

Watching the United States' men's national team hit a cross bar and two posts during the first half of its match against Jamaica, I started to hear a voice.  My own, to be precise.

"Maybe this is going to be one of 'those games'," the voice said.

I can't remember if I've written this before, but I've said it many times, and believe it's true: soccer is the one sport among all in which a clearly dominant team can play well and still lose, or at least not win.

Maybe it's the size of the playing field, or the number of players, that allows a true underdog, in ability and physical skill, to have "a shot" more than other sport. I tend to think it's because of the nature of the game and its running clock. 

In basketball, a vastly outgunned team used to be able to stall the game and at least stay close, if not have the opportunity to pull a huge upset. With the advent of shot clocks at the college and pro levels,  that ability no longer exists. Given the relative lack of merit in watching a 12-10 basketball game, not many would argue with the rule, although it does limit an underdog's ability to slow the game.

In American football, the constant stoppage of play means that a certain number of plays, and therefore scoring opportunities, are guaranteed. 

This isn't to say that "upsets" don't happen in basketball or football. They clearly do, and the disinterested observer almost always roots for them.

But I'm not talking about upsets here. What can happen only in soccer, I believe, on more than a very rare occasion, is when one team is clearly outplayed on the field during a contest, and still wins, or at least doesn't lose. That is one of the reasons that I believe that soccer is the most compelling of all sports.

In my time as a coach, I was on both ends of results in which the obviously better team did not win. I can still remember my son's travel team dominating a match in the West Virginia Open Cup, only to lose on a fluke goal that bounced over our keeper's head. But I can also remember several victories in which we were outmanned and outplayed, but found a way to win.

Our high school team lost at least two games in my tenure as assistant and head coach in which we dominated possession, but couldn't push that ball across the line or under the bar. The worst was in sectional play, against our biggest rival, in which we controlled the game, lost our best midfielder, kept fighting, endured a lightning delay, and lost because the other team converted its only real chance to score (at least, that's the way I remember it).

But I also remember the Regional Final in 2009, when we outplayed our AA-A rival, but headed into overtime, then the second overtime, then the third, then the fourth, tied at 0-0. And I can remember, as clear as if it happened last night, our graceful forward scoring in the last minute of the fourth sudden death overtime to send us all into a frenzy.

It's that build-up, that anticipation, that frustration, that makes soccer great.

And the U.S.? It scored in the 55th minute on a free kick and made its path to the final round of World Cup qualifying much safer. And those crossbars and posts and great saves by the keeper made it all the sweeter.

The U.S. celebrates Herculez Gomez's goal against Jamaica.

Sometimes, the best team does win.

But that voice in my head didn't stop whispering until the final whistle blew.

Civics 101

Okay folks, let's get something straight that I thought should have been clear after my post about Ryan Braun.

Most of us likely first learned this in 8th grade Civics class and since then have forgotten, misunderstood, misconstrued, or just plain ignored it. And it is this: "not guilty" does not mean "innocent."

I've been following the criminal trials of sports figures in Pennsylvania and DC with considerable interest over the past few weeks. I would assume that most lawyers, even those with limited criminal law experience (like me) saw the verdict in the Roger Clemens trial coming. The decision to take the Clemens case to trial, in the wake of the debacle of the Barry Bonds trial, was questionable to begin with. That the "star" witness of the government, Brian MacNamee, was a slimy, lying personal trainer/drug dealer didn't help.

The first trial ended by mistrial due to prosecutorial shenanigans that could have ended the case right then and there. Whether by mistake or a conscious decision, the prosecutors showed the jury a video tape that contained testimony that the Judge had already, clearly, ruled was not admissible. If it was a mistake, it was one that, in the words of the presiding Judge, "a first year law student" wouldn't make. If it was intentional, then it evidenced the desperateness with which the prosecution viewed its case. Either way, it wasn't a good sign.

When the Judge ruled that double jeopardy did not attach to the first trial, that the prosecution decided to take a second shot at Clemens was not surprising, but troubling. After seven weeks of laborious testimony the jury found Clemens not guilty. According to one of the jurors interviewed after the trial, the jury didn't believe MacNamee. Surprise!

Predictably, the Clemens verdict was announced as a complete exoneration. Surprisingly, the declaration came not from Clemens (who perhaps has at least learned something about prevarication through this process and merely said that he was grateful to the jurors and glad it was over) but from his grandstanding attorney, Rusty Hardin. After the verdict Hardin proclaimed: “I hope those in the public who made up their minds before there was a trial will now back up and entertain the possibility of what he (Clemens) has always said -- using steroids and HGH is cheating and was totally contrary to his entire career." 

Sorry Rusty, but the bit about steroid use being "totally contrary" to Clemens' career is simply absurd. Everything about Clemens' career, and particularly the dramatic, inexplicable improvement in his performance in his mid-to-late 30's (for example, his ERA at age 33 -- in the 1995 season-- was 4.18; at 34, 2.63; at 35, 2.05; and at 36, 2.65) screams PED use.

The decision of the government to try Clemens not once but twice on a case with flimsy physical evidence (cotton swabs in a beer can? Seriously?) and a reprehensible star witness likely gives Clemens ammunition to proclaim his innocence when staking a claim for election to the Baseball Hall of Fame, something that would likely be unimaginable (see, McGwire, Mark, and Sosa, Sammy) if his lying to Congress had merely been ignored.

Clemens posing with wife Debbie.
She admitted to being injected with HGH. 

Which, of course, may be the other problem. As an officer of the court, I firmly believe that oaths should be taken seriously and those who lie under oath should be punished. But can anyone in the general public get all that worked up about lying to Congress, particularly since people in much higher postiions (i.e., President, Supreme Court Justice) have done it and gotten away with it in the past? And don't even get me started with the propensity of politicians to lie -- there's an entire cottage industry devoted to fact-checking political ads for heaven's sake.

To be honest, my interest in the Roger Clemens perjury trial waxed and waned with its interminability, while that in the Jerry Sandusky case did not, as the prosecution wrapped up its case in less than four days of testimony. The prosecution undoubtedly could have called more witnesses and introduced more physical evidence but likely thought they ran the risk of numbing the jury to the gruesome and overwhelming testimony against Sandusky.

Some were surprised that the jury took as long as it did in deliberation and expressed concern that they might actually be considering a not guilty verdict. I thought at the time (and news articles afterwards have seemed to bear this out) that the jury was simply doing what the judge had instructed them to do: carefully consider the evidence with regard to each and every crime with which Sandusky was charged.

That the jury found Sandusky not guilty on three of the 48 counts against him speaks volumes of the care with which the jury considered the evidence and the charges, and likely makes any potential appeal by Sandusky much more difficult. That one of those counts was one against the unnamed and unidentified child that former Penn State assistant coach Mike McQueary testified about is also damning, as the jurors found his testimony particularly helpful in their overall deliberations, and yet apparently decided that there was not sufficient evidence of a sexual act in that case.

Both in the Clemens and Sandusky trials our system of justice was served. In Clemens case, it probably never should have gotten to that point. But while Sandusky was guilty, over and over again, Clemens was not found innocent. Don't let anyone tell you differently.

An Awkward Day for Coaches

Three events regarding American coaches were revealed on Thursday were so surreal I can't let them pass without offering a word about each.

In the NFL, the release of audio tape of Greg Williams, the former New Orleans Saints defensive coordinator, and now in all likelihood a former coach in all respects, presumably sealed not only WIlliams' fate but also that of his former bosses, the Saints and head coach Sean Payton, with regard to the fines and suspensions placed on them by the league in the wake of the bounty program that Williams installed and Payton not only tacitly allowed but actively tried to cover up.

Meanwhile, in the NBA, Orlando Magic head coach Stan Van Gundy had apparently decided enough was enough and outed his superstar, Dwight Howard, who has been working behind the scenes to get Van Gundy fired. In the height of awkward moments, immediately after Van Gundy had completed his comments to the media about Howard, Howard appeared at the press gathering and put his arm around Van Gundy.

And, finally, news came from Arkansas that the University's football coach, Bobby Petrino, hadn't been as forthcoming as Van Gundy in his recent dealings with the press. Petrino informed the press on Tuesday that he had been involved in a motorcycle accident Sunday. What he didn't tell the press (and in fact lied about) was that there was another rider on his bike. A 25 year-old female employee (and former volleyball player) at the school, with whom he was, according to the school which has now suspended him, engaged in an "inappropriate relationship."

Petrino at his press conference. One can only assume
that the neck brace and scrapes are from his accident,
not what his wife did to him when he got home.

If one were to pick one word to describe each of the three coaches and their unusual circumstances, the word I choose for Williams is arrogant. Stupid and evil would work too. While NFL players and commentators debate whether what Williams said in his "pep talk" went beyond the bounds of decency, or at least normality where the NFL is concerned, there's something more simple at play in my mind. 

Williams knew, or should have known at the time that he made the speech, that he and the Saints were under investigation for their bounty program. He knew that they had been told to stop offering money to defensive players for injuries to the opposing team. And Williams knew that there was an individual from outside of the team (filmmaker Sean Pamphilon, who was making a documentary on Saints player Steve Gleason) present during his speech.

All of which has to lead one to conclude that Williams thought he was above the law. After all, he had gotten away with his antics for years before, first with the Buffalo Bills, then with the Saints. It was pure arrogance that led Williams to conclude that it was business as usual when it came to his the defensive tactics his Saints would employ against the San Francisco 49ers. That arrogance will surely cost him any chance to ever coach again. And rightfully so.

Good riddance Mr. Williams

My word for Van Gundy is honest. Coaching and honesty don't always go hand-in-hand, and sometimes it is almost inevitable that the two cannot coexist. In preparing a team for a game a coach will often have to stretch or ignore the truth, whether to convince his or her team that they have a chance, or that the other team has a chance. It's the same in dealing with the media, when coaches often have to defuse tension within the team, or not say what's really on their mind ("the referees didn't cost us the game" comes to mind as a statement that is often the exact opposite of what a coach is really thinking).

Yet Van Gundy chose to confront a question about Howard in a straightforward and honest manner. He could have chosen to plead ignorance, simply ignore the question, or shoot the messenger, but he gave an honest answer and then an honest assessment of the situation. And he was absolutely right. Many of us don't particularly care for some of the people we work for or with, but it doesn't, or shouldn't, stop us from doing our jobs as best we can.

Slimy has to be the word for Petrino. Not because he was apparently engaged in an inappropriate relationship with a woman half his age with a wife and four kids at home (history is littered with men and women much better than Petrino who have done the same or worse). Not because he abandoned his previous employer, the Atlanta Falcons, in mid-season.

But because he lied about the accident, first to his boss and then to the media, and then by all appearances made an appearance that was meant to draw sympathy to him (or attention away from the circumstances that surrounded his mishap). And asked a Good Samaritan who drove by the scene of the crash not to call 911. And because the week before his companion was hired as his team's "student-athlete development coordinator."

Head football coaches, especially those at big state universities, expect to and can get away with a lot when they win. But the way Petrino handled this situation, in an apparently calculating manner from the moment it happened, can only be seen as the acts of a selfish, and, yes, slimy man.

One day, three unusual and awkward moments for three coaches, who can be described in three words. How can a blogger be so lucky?