A Quick Reminder to the Lake Orion Dragons

Before the Lake Orion High School varsity football team boards the bus and heads to Clarkston for their second meeting with their bitter rivals in as many weeks, hopefully these reminders will provide some perspective for Coach Bell and his team.

Perspective cannot be found in last week's cyber-bullying at the hands of the 9-0 Wolves. What Clarkston did in their 42-13 soaking of the fire-snuffed Dragons on their soggy faux turf was extract demons. Demons of frustrated seasons past.

Last season at Lake Orion, the Wolves' were treated as such, held to a mere seven points until a late touchdown closed the margin of defeat. Instead of wrapping up a league title, their dreams were shattered, and their season ended a week later in round 1 of the playoffs.

And in 2006, two weeks after upending the Dragons on their home field for the for the OSA league title, they hosted their rivals again. This time for the district championshiop. The Dragons coasted to a healthy lead before Clarkston mounted an all-out assault in the fourth quarter, melting the lead away and putting the game in the hands of their prolific offense. Victory and a spot in the district title gam was in their grasp, until. Until fourth and one at midfield with two minutes left, they were denied, stoned for no gain and Lake Orion moved on.

In fact, Lake Orion has moved on to the district finals each of the last three seasons, losing to Macomb Dakota in '06 and '07, then stunning Stevenson in the single greatest high school game I've ever witnessed last season on their way to Ford Field.

But those demons are dead. Tonight we see if they still have gas in the reserve tank. Because there's one thing about Chris Bell's teams. They don't take losing lightly. Especially within their own league, where they hadn't lost in two seasons before last week.



If they want to repeat 2006 and pay back Coach Kurt Richardson's Wolves on his own field, Lake Orion needs to do two things.

First, shut down their talented quarterback, Tyler Scarlett. The senior had his way with the Dragon defense the entire game last week, doing everything but picking the score. The senior signal-caller is the engine that makes that team move. He doesn't have the rifle arm of the Dragon's Sean Charrrette, but he can see the field as well as any QB in the Detroit area. He reacts to the defense, all night long. He needs pressure. Constant pressure. He needs two people on defense with the sole purpose of following #10 on every play. Even if he dishes the ball off or tosses a quick timing pattern pass, that kind of defensive mentality will still pay off in making opportunities. Fumbles, penalties, broken up passes. Maybe even a pick six, being that he loves throwing in the flat. Quarterbacks aren't as productive when they're constantly rushed, it's a fact. The Dragons need to make that happen or it's over.

And second, CONTROL THE BALL. It doesn't have to be pretty. All it has to do is move chains and run time off the clock. The longer Scarlett stands on the sidelines, the more pressure he'll be under to score every time he touches the ball. Pressure on Clarkston would be good.

If they are to move on in the playoffs beyond tonight, both of those objectives must be accomplished. I have a funny feeling the Clarkston Wolves aren't all that impressed with Lake Orion based on last week's debacle. And I have a sneaking suspicion they'll be in for a big surprise. Defending district and regional champions do not disappear easily. Especially when they're under-estimated. Go Dragons!

Doin' The Hater Chop

How much do I loathe everyone's number-one college football team? How much do I throw up in my mouth every time I hear some hackneyed reporter belch out one of their pre-scripted "you can't help but cheer for these guys" cliches about America's supposed darlings, the Florida Gators?

Let's put it this way. After today I will channel any and all available resources, human or otherwise, to make sure Florida doesn't reach the BCS championship game, much less win it. I'll drink the blood, sacrifice the appropriate fowl, what have you. Whatever it takes.

The Anointed Ones were tied with Arkansas 13-13 midway through the fourth quarter on Saturday when Razorback quarterback Ryan Mallet (remember that name, Michigan fans?) tossed a perfect pass to Greg Childs. The sophomore wideout caught it in stride, cut across field and scored on an electrifying 77-yard touchdown pitch-catch-and-run. Childs was hit as he crossed goal line, jarring the ball loose and knocking him to the ground. However he managed to jump back up, crawl across the end zone to fall on the ball. So even if he didn't score on the reception, he scored recovering his own fumble.

Yet the veteran CBS announcing team of Verne Lundquist and Gary Danielson must have spent the previous commercial break scoring hallucinogens on a Gainsville street corner.

They gasped when the officials called for a review of play, each telling the nation how important a call this may turn out to be. Oh really? Is it really important to determine whether Childs gets credited with a TD catch or a fumble recovery for a TD? Frankly I don't know why the play was even reviewed, since it would have led to the same result in either scenario.

But tell that to Verne and Gary. The pair were either conjoined in some form of dual brain lock or busy doing a quiet Gator chop gesture in the press booth. Still immersed in self-created contraversy, Verne--a man with nearly a half century of sports broadcasting experience under his belt - suggested that the play may be ruled an incompletion. An incompletion! Childs caught the ball at the midfield, crossed the width of The Swamp to the other sideline, fought off a tackler at the 15, picked up a key block at the 10 and lost the ball upon reaching the goal line. That was one hell of a bobble, eh Verne?

Not to be outdone, Gary--who starred at Purdue before moving into the booth for ABC back in the 1980s--threw out this "possibility": should the refs determine that Childs fumbled before crossing the goal line, they may just rule the ball dead at the point of the fumble.

HUH?????? How can that possibly be? When is a play ever dead at the point a ball is fumbled? The closest I can come to the mid-fumble-whistle theory is a situation where a player either loses the ball and it travels backwards and out of bounds (whereupon the point he fumbles is also his forward progress)... or intentionally fumbles it forward, typically in an act of last-minute desperation. Neither applied to what Danielson runaway train of thought. The only situation here was one of two wishfully thinking announcers grabbing at straws. No matter how much you wish it to be, sometimes it just can't be.

As it turned out, the officiating crew led by Marc Curles ultimately confirmed the ruling on the field, giving Arkansas the touchdown. Had they reversed it, it would have given Arkansas a touchdown. Oooh such suspense.

The officials weren't finished. On the Gators' ensuing drive they flagged the Razorbacks for two phantom 15-yard penalties. The first was for pass interference on a defensive back who did nothing but play his position. The second, an undefined personal foul on defensive tackle Malcolm Sheppard. All he did was put a hit on charging Florida lineman Marcus Gilbert.

How bad was THAT call? Even Danielson couldn't help but rip the refs for it. It wasn't after the whistle had blown. It wasn't at the head or knees. It was a chest-on-chest block against an on-rushing Gilbert. Gilbert was the one who was knocked to the ground, however. And in Gainsville, apparently, Gators aren't supposed to hit the ground. So Arkansas was given a personal foul for a really good hit.



The two gifts gave Florida 26 yards of its drive to the tying touchdown. Then in the final minutes NCAA-dream-date quarterback Tim Tebow (the dude with scripture on his cheeks) drove the Gators downfield again, as everyone expected him to do, for the winning field goal. The misty-eyed mediots have already started calling it Tebow's "Heisman Moment"--even though the kid hasn't thrown for 800 yards all season. Happy Sweetest Day, Timmy! Ur the gr8st, Urban! Love... the SEC, the BCS, the NCAA... heck, everybody!

I'll just say it: both calls were bullshit. In fact they weren't merely bullshit. They weren't simply two blown calls. These refs didn't miss anything. That would be excusable. They saw things happen that didn't happen. Which can't help but leave you with a how-come-I-had-a-straight-flush-and-still-got-beat feeling. It's as if there was a higher power involved. Maybe the BCS gods were summoned. Gee, ya think?

So everyone wants the Gators to win it all again huh. Well fine, then I'll be the one who doesn't. I think Florida is a bully. A football program that couldn't wait to pound their mighty chests the minute they dropped Miami and Florida State off their schedule. (Imagine Michigan ending their rivalries with Ohio State and Notre Dame because these opponents are deemed too "competitive".) A school so badass they haven't played a single regular-season football game outside of SEC territory in over a quarter century. A poseur of a team with a cry-baby a coach and an altar-boy do-no-wrong quarterback. Yes I'm admittedly biased, nonetheless I think they leap-frogged over #2 Michigan in 2006 by whining incessantly until enough voters dropped the Wolverines--whose season had already ended--to third in the BCS rankings. (The Wolverines have never lost to the Gators, beating them twice in Florida bowl games... and I'll never miss a chance to bring up this fact when it's relevant.)

They're a team that gets phantom calls on the field and cheerleader-worthy support in the booth because there's just too much at stake in December and January. Florida is the SEC flavor of the month so they have to be there till the end. And no upstart, upset-minded Arkansas team can change That Which Must Be.

Then fine, I say. Give Tebow the Heisman right now. Give Florida a free pass to the BCS title game, right now. But don't force this on us under the guise of legitimacy. Don't force us to listen to network apologists make up rules. Don't force us to watch as referees make up penalties. Have a little respect for the intelligent, objective football viewers out there--the ones who aren't wearing alligator heads.

There must be a few of us out there, right?

FOLLOW-UP: Since my blog post the SEC has officially suspended Marc Curles and his entire officiating crew. The league said there was no video evidence to support the personal foul on Arkansas defensive lineman Malcolm Sheppard in the fourth quarter as the Gators were rallying to overcome a 20-13 deficit. Florida scored on the drive and eventually beat the Razorbacks, 23-20.

As it turns out, last weekend's Arkansas-Florida debacle is the crew's second controversial call of the year.
The same group worked the LSU-Georgia game earlier this month, in which the conference ruled an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty late in the contest should not have been called. This is the first time in SEC history that the league's front office has publicly suspended a football crew.

"A series of calls that have occurred during the last several weeks have not been to the standard that we expect from our officiating crews," SEC commissioner Mike Slive said Wednesday. "I believe our officiating program is the best in the country. However, there are times when these actions must be taken."

The SEC says Curles' crew will be removed from its next scheduled assignment on October 31 and will not be assigned to officiate as a crew until November 14. The league said the crew's bowl assignments could also be impacted. Link to the complete story: http://sports.espn.go.com/ncf/news/story?id=4583642

Manager Of The Yerrrrrrrr Outta Here!

If ever a man could be asked to leave his own wedding reception, it would be Jim Leyland.

Seriously, what is it with this guy? He stirs this hybrid emotion in the Detroit Tiger faithful that toes the line between astonishment and despondence like some masochistic field sobriety test. He's the five stages of death all rolled into one. One big long nicotine stick of addiction, obsession and reckless abandonment, lit ablaze at one end and sucked on at the other.

Leyland took a team picked to finish sixth in the five-team American League Central Division and worked them like a rosin bag. By the end of Spring, this squad sprung to life as if touched by Geppetto himself. Pitchers acquired for utility infielders became All-Star worthy. Arms that lost 17 games the previous year were on a tear to win 20. Powerless infielders were adjusting their stances and putting up anabolic numbers.

This man took a pitching staff and--with a heavy hand yet a helping hand nonetheless--crafted it into one of the best IN THE MAJORS. Counting pitches, measuring tendencies, playing game #161 like game #16... all the things that make those who turned the turnstiles at Tiger Stadium gargle with their own bile, he done did.

The Tigers jumped into first place before we were halfway through May, and have stayed there, alone or tied, ever since. That's a span of over four and a half months. Why they can't fill Comerica Park without mentioning the word "bobblehead" is as much a mystery as the skipper himself. The Lions can't show you four and a half months of first place without pulling out VHS tapes of Billy Sims. Yet week after water-tortured week they sell out despite their failure.

So WHAT keeps our opinions vacillating between AL Manager of the Year and "Fire His Ass"? Is it that scent he wears, a mix of musk and dog chaser? What so intrigues and repels the push-me-pull-you in us? Furthermore, what makes me delve so deeply into this psyche for the ages right now? (It's more Unhealthy Obsession than Detroit Sports, that's for sure!)

I'll tell you what keeps me rubbernecked. The feeling I get that the guy's got another great big inexplicable surprise waiting for us.

The feeling I have that tomorrow he'll be turning the Metrodome into a hospital zone. I don't know what he's got up his sleeve besides a crinkled pack of reds. But by the seventh inning whatever it is may just have 50,000 once-screaming fans quietly reading Twin Trivia in their game programs. And none of this Miguel Cabrera nonsense will enter into it. (And I'm one of the only writers in this town who won't talk about it.) In fact, the distraction may help the rest of the team focus and play better. They may actually prefer not being in Detroit right now.

Call it a feeling. Call it vicarious detox tremors. Call it that numb sensation immediately after you strike your index finger with your hammer. But oh it feels good.

Maybe just call it Leyland's modus operandi: that which is earned is best earned when all else is lost. Remember the Marlins? [And no I don't mean some feel-good movie about football-playing fish.] Remember that ramshackle team he led to a most improbable World Series victory over the heavily favored Cleveland Indians? This is the guy who made a PERENNIAL PLAYOFF REGULAR out of the Pittsburgh Pirates, for crissakes.

Just look back three years. Remember what stood between the 2006 Tigers and a Banner-Raising Ceremony? I'll remind you: a weekend series with the lowly Kansas City Royals at home. A Tiger (Woods) tap-in. So what'd they do? They surrendered 29 runs in those three games, that's what! The Twins passed them (who'd've thought?) and claimed the title Detroit had been missing since the Reagan years of 1987.

And with the Twins' Central Division title came a comparably so-totally-easy ALDS with the Oakland A's, for which they would have home-field advantage. Detroit on the other hand had to regroup somehow and travel to the Bronx to face a Yankee lineup that all but literally awoke the Yankee lineup of '27. Despite taking the Tigers to their first playoffs in 19 years--in his first season as manager mind you--Leyland was suddenly in the hot seat.

So how'd that seat work out? The A's routed the Twins in straight sets. The Tigers brought a youngin named Zumaya to Yankee Stadium who threw a seventh inning of 102- and 103-mph heat that blew up the Yankee bats, and they finished the pinstripes off in four games. Then they swept Oakland and entered their first World Series in more than two decades. As it turned out they didn't need home field, playing equal amounts of both during the run. And Jim Leyland became a folk hero.

Well my stories are like arrows, they may be long but there is a point at the end of it. And the point here is that Leyland seems to thrive when nobody expects it. There's no more "let's win early so we can rest our pitchers" mentality. They're 1-0 so far in games they're playing with their last life. And right now everyone in the entire city of... wait, cities of Minneapolis are writing the manager and his team off. JL himself said about the one-game playoff, "Nobody will think we've got a chance. So let's just see what happens."

I'm getting visions already, coach. Visions of a victory, and not a close one either. Hey, I predicted the Tigers would beat the Yankees in four games no less back in '06. And how many others were by my side then? [Hint, it was a very, very small number.] I can't shake the image of Rick Porcello taking a few shots but otherwise stifling the Twinkies through seven. Or the image of Tiger lumber cracking the ball into those monstrous gaps in the outfield, leading the kitties to a resounding win--despite Cabrera, despite the "collapse", despite everything.

Or the image of their stoic manager when it's over and the division's been won, looking just like... well, just like he does on any other day. Dude's a freak job, remember?