Osgood Ready To Go — i.e., Ready To Bounce Back (Again)

“Osgood, I believe, will be named the starting goalie when the playoff drama begins in April. And, I think he will once again bounce back and keep that job, for as long as the Red Wings survive.”

It’s not like Chris Osgood hasn’t been down this path before.

There was 1994, when as a 21-year-old rookie, playing in the playoffs only because of the incompetence of veteran Bob Essensa, Osgood sat in front of his locker and weeped, after his blunder cost the Red Wings Game 7 of their series against the heavily-underdogged San Jose Sharks. He bounced back.

There was the debacle of the 1996 playoffs, when the league-leading, record-setting Red Wings struggled in every series and eventually lost in the Conference Finals to the Colorado Avalanche, with Osgood and Mike Vernon both unable to stop pucks consistently. Osgood bounced back.

There was the tragic-comedy of the 1998 Stanley Cup run, when Osgood had the propensity for letting in shots from the blue line and beyond. After each occurrence, Osgood bounced back. The Wings won the Cup.

There was the stripping of his Wings when the team went and acquired Hall of Famer Dominik Hasek in 2001. Osgood was banished to the New York Islanders, of all places, and ended up with the St. Louis Blues, wallowing with mediocre teams and playing almost with the same level of mediocrity. Osgood bounced back.

There was the return to the Red Wings in 2005, only to have to sit and watch helplessly as Manny Legace gagged terribly in the 2006 playoffs. Osgood bounced back.

There was the relegation to backup goalie to Hasek in 2008, who was in his third tour of duty with the Red Wings. Then Osgood was called upon to jump in, cold, after Hasek stumbled through the first four games of the first round. Osgood responded, big time, and the Red Wings advanced to the Cup Finals.

There was the huge disappointment of allowing a game-tying goal with less than 30 seconds remaining in Game 5 of the Finals, the Stanley Cup polished and waiting in a nearby hallway. Osgood bounced back and played brilliantly in the clinching Game 6.

Now there’s this — battling regular season demons to the tune of being among the worst goalies, statistically, in the entire NHL. The playoffs fast approaching. A very public and potentially humiliating ten-day “break” having been served. Questions, again, surrounding the Red Wings’ goalie situation. The ever-popular backup goalie — this time it’s Ty Conklin — waiting in the wings, just in case. The familiar cry to “put HIM in, instead!”

Osgood, it says here, will respond. Again. Just like he always has.

“I just needed some time to figure things out,” Ozzie told the papers this morning as he prepared to return to game action. “I feel real good now. I feel like I’m ready to go.”

Probably is.

A couple weeks ago, Osgood shrugged off his struggles. He pointed to his resume.

“The thing is,” he said firmly, “is that I know how to win playoff games.”

That he does.

Osgood, I believe, will be named the starting goalie when the playoff drama begins in April. And, I think he will once again bounce back and keep that job, for as long as the Red Wings survive. It’s been his trademark — to rise like a Phoenix. They’ve been writing Chris Osgood off for years. Let ‘em keep writing.

Osgood is coming back to the Red Wings after his “break”. He says he feels fine. He reminds us that he knows how to win playoff games.

I think we should probably believe him. He’s earned that.

Defense At The Expense Of Offense? That’s OK, When It Comes To Inge And Everett

“Me? I’m willing to take my chances with the gloves of Inge and Everett and put more pressure on the other seven hitters in the lineup to produce.”

It’s an old baseball adage: that the third out, often times, is the toughest one to get, in any given inning.

No disagreements here. I’ve seen many a rally linger and fester, all with two outs already in the books. It is, indeed, difficult to get that third out on occasion.

So you can imagine how hard it is to get four outs.

Yet that’s what the Tigers’ pitchers were forced to do on too many occasions last season — get four outs in an inning that only requires three.

The culprit, of course, was the overall team defense, which was far too leaky to qualify the Tigers as legitimate playoff contenders. And they weren’t; they finished in last place.

The left side of the infield was a top offender. Third base was initially manned by Miguel Cabrera, but he never found a comfort zone. Carlos Guillen gave it a shot, and he wasn’t all that much better. It wasn’t until Brandon Inge found some adequate playing time at 3B that those problems at third leveled off. At shortstop? Well, let’s just say that Edgar Renteria is the Giants’ problem now.

The outfielders were OK, but not great. But most of the fourth outs were courtesy of the Tigers infielders. Make no mistake.

This year, Inge is shackled to third base, and that’s a good thing. No more catching for Brandon, with Gerald Laird and Matt Treanor around. At shortstop, it’s Adam Everett, slick with the glove.

Ah, but here’s the rub — the trade-off, if you will. Will the defense of Inge and Everett — with their ability to eliminate a lot of fourth outs — be enough to offset their demonstrated weakness at the plate?

That is the question, indeed.

Me? I’m willing to take my chances with the gloves of Inge and Everett and put more pressure on the other seven hitters in the lineup to produce. Clearly, last year’s arrangement didn’t work. And it’s not like Renteria made up for his lack of range with his bat, anyway.

There will be much talk, as there should be, about the Tigers’ pitching — both the starters and the bullpen. There’s no question that if the Tigers don’t pitch, they won’t win. But let’s say the pitchers DO pitch, and those guys who were either hurt or underachieved, or both, bounce back and have decent seasons (see Verlander, Justin and Zumaya, Joel). Then the focus will be right back on the defense — specifically the infield defense and its success rate at preventing the dreaded fourth out from being necessary.

The Tigers need Brandon Inge and Adam Everett to run a tight ship left of second base. They can make like Eddie Brinkman with the bat, as far as I’m concerned, as long as they channel Steady Eddie with the glove, too.

It’s True: Iverson Not Championship-Worthy

“The only way I can see Iverson hoisting the Larry O’Brien Trophy over his head is if he does so as an aging, journeyman benchwarmer whose playing time was incidental, his contribution minimal and in spurts.”

They’ve said it about some of the greatest players in team sports. Sometimes it’s been whispered, other times it’s been blared, in bullhorn fashion. The accusation, fair or not, has dogged some of the biggest names in sporting history.

(Insert name here) cannot win.

It was used against Wilt Chamberlain in his head-to-head battles with Bill Russell. Though Wilt did win a championship. But not nearly enough of them to silence the critics. So Chamberlain, forever, was banished to being less of a player than Russell.

They said it about John Elway, until Elway filled their mouths with dirt and turf in Super Bowls XXXII and XXXIII. They said it about Danny Marino.

Locally, it was even said about Steve Yzerman — if you can imagine such a thing now.

The Pistons are finding out now, in the only way possible — that being the hard way — that what they’ve long said about Allen Iverson is, unfortunately, true.

Allen Iverson cannot win. Thus, you cannot win with Allen Iverson.

I’m afraid to report that it’s true. It really is. I was a proponent of the Chauncey Billups-for-Iverson trade, when it happened in November. I thought that it was about damn time that the Pistons have a ball-hogging, take-the-big-shot guy on their roster. I wrote that the old way of doing things in Pistons-land — the way that says there is no true superstar — was proven to be the wrong and futile way. So I pumped the Iverson trade as not only coming around to the reality of the NBA, but doing so in one of the grandest ways possible — with Iverson, a sure-fire Hall of Famer who was hungry for his first ring.

I was wrong. And all those folks who warned against acquiring a famously selfish player — and selfish isn’t always a bad thing in the NBA, by the way — like Iverson, who said that you cannot win with AI, were absolutely, spot-on correct.

You really cannot win with Allen Iverson, after all.

Actually, AI, it’s been “thumbs down” on your Pistons Era

There are many culpable folks whose hands are bloody during this God-awful Pistons season — one that appears to careening out of control at the speed of sound. But I’m sorry — it comes down to the moment Iverson arrived in Detroit.

The Pistons were 4-0, don’t forget, when Iverson joined the Pistons. They are 23-28 since.

Instead of Iverson being the spark plug, being the missing ingredient, being, ahem, “The Answer”, he instead was the first domino whose fall knocked down a bunch of other dominoes. Which led to the Pistons’ freefall.

Iverson’s arrival changed the way the Pistons played, but that was hardly a surprise. But in addition, it changed the way rookie coach Michael Curry substituted, strategized, and ultimately, his starting lineup and his bench people. And none of it for the good, really.

You cannot win with Allen Iverson. It’s official.

Iverson came to Detroit beaming, telling everyone that this was the most talented roster he’s ever played with, and that a championship was all that was left to, in his mind, validate his career. He couldn’t wait to get started.

Oh, he got started alright. Iverson slowly, methodically, soiled the Pistons with the very things that I had exulted about him: his ball-hogging, his out-of-control way of providing offense, and, to my chagrin, his failing to put his money where his mouth is when it comes to sacrificing in order to win a title. That was a good one, a real knee slapper.

You cannot win with Allen Iverson. Spread the word. It’s true.

The only way I can see Iverson hoisting the Larry O’Brien Trophy over his head is if he does so as an aging, journeyman benchwarmer whose playing time was incidental, his contribution minimal and in spurts. The announcers will say, “Well, AI finally got his ring,” but it will be in an almost charitable way.

The Pistons have a decision to make on Iverson. He’s in the last year of his fat contract — a nice, juicy, fat contract that will come off the Pistons’ books this summer, should they choose to part ways with him. I have a feeling that that decision has already been made.

You cannot win with Allen Iverson. Pass it on.

The DH: A Bad Idea Then, A Bad Idea Now

“Sure, pitchers were weaker hitters, but so what? Kickers are poor tacklers; do they run off the field in football so that a “designated gunner” can run on and inflict extra punishment?”

Roric Harrison’s mark on the game of baseball is, I’m afraid, totally safe. Barring something highly unusual, that is.

Harrison was the last American League pitcher to hit a home run in a game featuring two AL teams. He did it on October 3, 1972, while playing for the Baltimore Orioles in Cleveland. The dreadful Designated Hitter Rule arrived the next year.

The DH was originally intended to be a three-year trial. The traditionalists held out hope that after the trial, the mucky-mucks in MLB would realize the error of their ways and abolish it, forever. An experiment gone horribly wrong.

No such luck.

The DH was ratified for good beginning with the 1976 season. It was the end of baseball as we knew it.

If you ever want get a rousing game of “Yes, it is/no, it isn’t” going, there are few, if any, hot button topics in baseball that are better stimuli than “Is the DH good for baseball?”

No it isn’t, by the way.

Roric “Home Run” Harrison

I guess I look at it this way. What did baseball ever do to the stuffed suits that caused them to so drastically change the way the game is played? Was there a crusade for the elimination of the pitcher actually stepping to the plate?

I feel where the stuffed suits were coming from, I really do, when they unleashed this wacky rule change on baseball in ’73. MLB was coming off a decade — the 1960s — in which pitchers dominated. The first try to stem this tide came in 1969, when baseball lowered the pitcher’s mound, on the heels of Denny McLain’s 31-win year, and Bob Gibson’s 1.12 ERA season in 1968.

But that wasn’t enough, apparently.

A player designated as the “hitter” for the pitcher!

Why?

For over 100 years, baseball seemed to be humming along just nicely with nine guys fielding, nine guys hitting. Sure, pitchers were weaker hitters, but so what? Kickers are poor tacklers; do they run off the field in football so that a “designated gunner” can run on and inflict extra punishment? No — because that’s one of the natural quirks of the game. Kickers don’t work on their tackling, and they’re physically smaller. Pitchers don’t work on their hitting.

You’ve heard the rest of the arguments before — whether you agree with me or not. The DH’s removal of a significant amount of strategy, for one. The lack of discretion for the AL manager when it comes to waving pitchers in from the bullpen, since they have no place in the batting order.

Has the DH been handy, even convenient? Sure. In the matter of the aging, the hurt, the infirm. And it has, granted, enabled some players to display their hitting acumen for us longer than had the DH not been an option. Agreed. But some good coming from a bad idea doesn’t make it a good idea.

I’m unashamed and unabashed in my dislike of the DH. It’s just not the way the game was meant to be played. And the change was uncalled for to begin with.

Oh, and to those who crow that the DH saves them from witnessing the pitcher coming up to the plate to simply strike out and walk back to the dugout?

Close your eyes.

Tiger’s Almost Back — And So Is The PGA

“Woods was holding the PGA hostage while he recovered from his injuries, but he didn’t do it with any malice. It was just the way it was.”

Do they still hold pro golf tournaments? Is the PGA still in business, or did it take a hiatus?

Answers: They’re about to again, and, yes — it’s on hiatus.

You remember the PGA, don’t you? The Professional Golfers Association? In case you were wondering, the PGA hasn’t dissolved. It hasn’t held a massive auction on eBay to get rid of all of its tees and flags and “Shhhh” signs.

But there haven’t been any tournaments lately. Not for quite some time. If the PGA was a retail outlet, it would have a sign out front that reads, “Closed for remodeling.”

Yet there is hope, for the golf fan. The PGA is about to re-open — but there might not be all that much new to see.

Tiger Woods, they say, is getting closer and closer to returning, following knee surgery and the birth of another child, for which he showed his fatherly support.

The PGA is back in business.

Think I’m being facetious and smarmy?

Quick — name me some PGA tour winners over the past six months or so.

Woods is just about back, and so is golf.

I’m sorry, but Tiger Woods IS the PGA. There — it’s about time someone said it. The PGA, minus Woods, is like one of those inflatable characters you see on front lawns during the Christmas season, but deflated. You’ve seen how pathetic and sad those things look when there is no air being pumped into them? Face first on the grass; splayed out. But now here comes Tiger Woods. The inflatable PGA is about to be plugged in again. The air is about to be flowing through it again.

Why argue this? Why bother trying to purport that there is actually genuine interest in any golfer other than Woods? Why should there be, anyway?

Tiger Woods is pro golf. Has been for years. Will be for many more. And there’s no shame in that.

Sorry, Phil Mickelsen fans. Hate to break it to you, Vijay Singh enthusiasts. All you Davis Love the Third zealots and Corey Pavin rooters from the old school, give it up.

Tiger is the man, and that’s just the way it is.

I’ve long said that it’s OK for golf, or tennis, or any individual sport, to have a dominant figure. The proof is in the excising of that individual.

Was golf on your radar while Woods convalesced?

All you die-hard fans — the ones who’ll golf no matter what — all you folks take a step backward. I’m speaking now to the casual-to-moderate fan. The ones who wonder what golf would be like without Woods to preside over it.

Well, wonder no longer.

Woods was holding the PGA hostage while he recovered from his injuries, but he didn’t do it with any malice. It was just the way it was.

So soon we can all get back to watching Woods dominate and wonder if any of the other poor saps can give him a run for his money for any length of time. There’s also the curiosity factor re: Woods’s repaired leg and whether it will allow him to continue to keep all the Lilliputian golfers at arm’s length from him. But I’d bet that the answer to that question will be a resounding YES, and will be proven in short order. Like maybe with the first major in which Woods appears.

Tiger Woods is just about back. Golf has been re-inflated.

Leyland Anything But Lame, No Matter What You Read

“I wrote that Jimmy Leyland should, instead, have thanked his lucky stars that he still had a job, much less crab that his contract was too short.”

The next person to call Walter Alston a lame duck will be the first. And the last, for Walt’s ghost won’t have any of that nonsense.

Alston was the longtime manager of the first Brooklyn, then Los Angeles Dodgers, from 1954 to 1976. For twenty-three seasons, Alston ruled the roost, wearing Dodger Blue. He won 2,040 games filling out lineup cards and signaling for the hit-and-run and summoning that guy from the bullpen. But it’s the calling card of the length of the baseball season that Alston also managed to lose 1,613 games – proof that the lineup and the hit-and-run and that guy in the bullpen didn’t always work the way Walt thought.

But he was no lame duck.

Here’s how Alston’s arrangement with the Dodgers went. He’d manage the season. Sometimes the Dodgers went to the World Series, sometimes they didn’t. Regardless, Alston put in his year’s work and then waited for his contract for the next season to arrive in his mailbox, sometime that winter. He’d sign it and mail it back, then presumably head back for the golf course, or the nearest billiards hall.

That was it. For twenty-three straight years.

But he was no lame duck.

You’re going to hear that terribly misplaced and overused term, “lame duck”, in reference to Tigers manager Jim Leyland. A lot. Some of the ink-stained wretches in town just can’t seem to use it enough to suit them.

Jim Leyland, lame duck. Get used to it.

It’s also a bunch of baloney.

Apparently, you can’t have a coach or a manager who’s not signed beyond the current season without also having a lame duck coach or manager. That’s what those miscreant ink-stained wretches would have you believe.

They’ll tell you – over and over, trust me – that Leyland is the dreaded lame duck because the Tigers have the audacity to send him off to battle without a contract beyond the 2009 season.

Lame duck!!

Their “reasoning” goes like this. Since the Tigers players know that the manager has no pact for 2010 and beyond, then he is, in a baseball sort of way, a eunuch. Emasculated, because his arrangement to manage potentially ends with the final pitch of the ’09 campaign. In other words, why should the players listen to and respect and obey a man who isn’t signed long-term?

My goodness, are the Tigers that fragile?

If they lose a few, are they really going to look at Leyland, twirl their mustaches, and “Muwah-ha-ha” in some sort of group effort to undermine him?

Funny, but no one did that to Alston – he of the twenty-three straight one-year contracts.

It should be added here that it was Alston, not the Dodgers, who insisted on the year-by-year thing. His logic? If I don’t do a good job, then I shouldn’t be asked back. If I do a good job, there’ll be another contract for me in my mailbox this winter.

And you would argue with that?

The ink-stained wretches screaming “lame duck!” sure would seem to find issue with such impenetrable reasoning.

Leyland, within the past month, summoned Alston’s words.

“If I do a good job, I’ll keep my job,” he said. “If I don’t, I won’t. Simple as that.”

Indeed.

But it was Leyland himself who needed to come around before channeling Alston.

Shortly after the dreadful 2008 season had mercifully ended – the Tigers a hugely disappointing 74-88 – it was revealed that the front office wasn’t going to extend Leyland’s contract beyond its current length, which was through 2009.

The manager whined and pouted about it.

Leyland went to the papers and told the ink-stained wretches all they needed in order to place the “lame duck” tag on him. He publicly, and foolishly, I believed, called out owner Mike Ilitch, complaining that he – Leyland – had done enough since becoming Tigers manager to warrant some faith and trust. Jim Leyland wanted to be signed past 2009 – but putting his owner on the spot in the newspapers was a funny way of showing it, I thought.

Leyland, it says here, will be ranting on the Tigers’ behalf next year and beyond

Besides, Leyland didn’t earn a look past 2009. Other managers have found themselves in the unemployment line after presiding over the unexpected diarrhea that was the Tigers’ 2008 season. I wrote that Jimmy Leyland should, instead, have thanked his lucky stars that he still had a job, much less crab that his contract was too short.

The ink-stained wretches took another tack.

They endorsed an extension for Leyland – sort of. They went for the “pee or get off the pot” approach: if you want Leyland, sign him past 2009. If you don’t, fire him – forthwith.

Sheesh!

I went on the Internet and told anyone who cared to know, all about Walter Alston and his twenty-three consecutive one-year contracts. I pointed to the Dodgers’ record from 1954 to 1976 and safely argued, I thought, that the franchise had enjoyed a pretty darn good run with Alston receiving contracts in his mailbox each winter.

If it was good enough for a Hall of Fame manager like Walt Alston, then it should be good enough for Jim Leyland. Right? Wrong, according to the Chicken Little sportswriters in town.

Lame duck!!

I was disappointed in Leyland, when he fed into this horsepucky with his public boo-hoo act last fall. I thought he was better than that.

But he seems to have gotten it out of his system.

Leyland won’t talk about his contract anymore, except to say that he’s confident that it will all work out in the end. And he’s absolutely right.

The Tigers, I say, will prove that 2008 was nothing more than a bad dream. With players dotting the roster who are destined to have better years, whether because of good health or otherwise, it’s hard for me to believe that the team won’t be vastly improved.

Which means Jim Leyland will get his precious extension, after all. Probably before the season is much more than halfway old. And no more lame duck talk.

Not that he was one to begin with.

Right, Walt?

25th Best Team In Baseball? The Tigers Are Loads Better Than That

“…the Tigers had an awful lot of bad happen to them in 2008. It was borderline ridiculous. So to look at them and place them 25th out of 30 teams makes me seriously question the credibility of such an assessment.”

With apologies to Neil Armstrong, here’s a possible scenario for the Tigers.

2008 was a small step back, and 2009 will be a giant leap ahead.

It’s a nice thought, anyway.

One thing is for certain, though. Those goof balls at Fox Sports have got it all wrong.

They came out with their Power Rankings this week, and you have to keep scrolling down, down, until you come across the Tigers — at no. 25. Out of 30 teams.

Does Fox really think that the Tigers are better than only five other teams in baseball?

My goodness, there are five teams who barely belong in the big leagues, let alone who should be ranked at all.

It all goes to show that the expectations, nationally, for the Tigers after 2008′s disaster are exceedingly low. USA Today has the Tigers no better than 9th in the American League and fourth in the AL Central.

Well, here’s someone who has quite high expectations: Me.

The Tigers have a ton of players who have “bounce back” written all over them. In fact, the Tigers have more bounce back potential than a room full of super balls.

It all adds up, I figure, to a 90+ win season. That should place them a tad higher than 25th overall, I believe.

Here’s a quick look at the super balls:

1. Justin Verlander: the kid’s too good NOT to bounce back. 2008′s debacle (11-17, 4.84 ERA) might be good for him, in the long haul. I bet that he’s back to form in ’09.

2. Gary Sheffield: Sheff says he’s healthy, and that’s good enough for me. Sheff is not known to say things that he doesn’t really mean. At age 40, he feels he has something to prove. That makes me smile — a lot.

3. Carlos Guillen. Another one who should be healthier in 2009. Guillen didn’t play after late August due to a pinched nerve. The team’s new left fielder shouldn’t have as much wear and tear on his body this year.

4. Joel Zumaya. Again, healthy. Says he feels great, and a part of the team again. Manager Jim Leyland is also duly impressed thus far. I shouldn’t have to tell you what THAT can mean to the Tigers.

5. Dontrelle Willis. I’m putting my faith into the notion that 2008 was a grotesque blip on Willis’s screen and nothing more. Admittedly, this is the crossroads season for him — he’s either nearing the end, or last year was a fluke. I’m banking on the latter.

6. Nate Robertson. I’d like to think that Robertson is better than the 6.00+ ERA guy he was in 2008. History says so. Maybe it was more of a mechanics thing.

Lest us not forget that the Tigers pitchers might get a boost from new pitching coach Rick Knapp. Another bounce. Oh, and the arrival of closer Brandon Lyon won’t hurt, either.

Will ALL of the above-mentioned players have terrific seasons? I don’t know. But the point being, the Tigers had an awful lot of bad happen to them in 2008. It was borderline ridiculous. So to look at them and place them 25th out of 30 teams makes me seriously question the credibility of such an assessment.

The Tigers just might win their division in 2009. Think I’m nuts? Place their roster against those of their competitors. Do you see a measurable difference?

The Detroit Tigers, 25th-best team in baseball? Maybe at the end of last year. But this isn’t last year. Somebody ought to change the calendars over at Fox.

Dumars: The Pistons’ Landlord Who Should Live In His Own Mess For A While

“I just have this gut feeling that if Dumars were to take over, the Pistons would be a better basketball team. It’s not like he hasn’t given the other way a fair shot.”

In the movie “The Super”, Joe Pesci played an unscrupulous slumlord named Louie Kritski who was, by the courts, sentenced to live in the squalor that he had overseen with such arrogance and callousness.

Joe Dumars is not arrogant. He’s not callous, that I know of. But right now he’s a bad landlord.

It’s tempting to call for the ziggying of rookie coach Michael Curry, with the Pistons 27-26 and an unsightly 14-15 at home, including 2-10 in their last twelve at The Palace. It makes sense, in a way, to look at the arrival of Curry and the onset of the Pistons’ decline and figure that it’s more than just a coincidence. And it might be. This was never an easy bunch to coach to begin with, and when you place “rookie” in front of the title “coach”, it’s that much tougher.

But it’s Dumars who placed Curry in this position. And it’s Dumars who has given him this roster and said, “Have at it.”

It says here that Dumars should, indeed, can Curry, but with one caveat: that Dumars himself take over as coach. He should be the Pistons’ Louie Kritski.

It would be both a sentence of judgement levied against Dumars, as well as the satisfying of a curiosity that I have: whether Joe Dumars is the only coach out there who can truly coach the Pistons for longer than the usual two-to-three seasons.

San Antonio Spurs coach Gregg Popovich is considered one of the best in the game, and with good reason. In fact, he’s so good and has accomplished so much as a coach that it’s easy to forget that during the 1996-97 season, Popovich was a President/GM like Dumars, before he decided to fire his coach, Bob Hill, and take over on the sidelines himself. Popovich continues to hold the dual title of coach/President of Basketball Operations. He’s won four NBA titles as coach.

Dumars should give that tactic a try in Detroit.

Dumars might be the best coach out there; only one way to find out

Since taking over in 2000, Dumars has hired and fired four coaches. Curry is number five. That’s an unusually high number of coaches, considering the Pistons’ current (and soon to end) streak of appearing in six straight conference finals. So it can be argued that Joe D’s fetish for changing coaches has worked, to a degree. This is the first real dropoff in performance the Pistons have encountered since the 2000-01 season.

It doesn’t appear that Curry, with just one year as an assistant under his belt, has the acumen to be a successful NBA head coach. Perhaps that’s an inaccurate assessment, but we don’t have much to go on, do we?

Dumars should give it a whirl. Coaching, I mean.

Frankly, I’d love to see it, but more out of eagerness than out of a desire to punish. Everyone knows that Dumars might lean toward the micro-managing style of GM-ing. There’s been a sneaking suspicion for several years (at least with Flip Saunders) that Dumars has more influence than most GMs over who plays and who doesn’t. So why not give Dumars the coach’s seat, too, and see how he fares?

Dumars might be the only one to possess the ingredients that he never seems to find in his coaches. There’s always something missing with somebody. Usually, it’s been accountability –whether for the coach (Larry Brown Era), or the players (Saunders Era). Sometimes it’s toughness (Saunders) or compassion (Rick Carlisle).

I just have this gut feeling that if Dumars were to take over, the Pistons would be a better basketball team. It’s not like he hasn’t given the other way a fair shot. You might disagree with all the coaching changes, as it doesn’t provide for consistency, but you can’t say that if Dumars were to make himself coach, that he’d be doing so impetuously. He’s been the top dog in the front office for nine years now.

Of course, the only person who can truly do that, aside from owner Bill Davidson, is Dumars himself. And if he hasn’t done it by now, then maybe he doesn’t have such a move in him.

But it sure would be fun to see.

The Pistons are coming upon a crossroad in their journey back to the NBA Finals. That elite free agent class of 2010 is sure to send shockwaves throughout the league. Dumars is sure to be a big player at that table.

It’s another unsolicited opinion from another bottom feeding blogger and ink-stained wretch, but here it is: let Curry finish this season, give him maybe half of next, and if there’s still no improvement, Dumars should ask the coach to step aside and say, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, I guess.”

Joe Dumars — the next Gregg Popovich?

I’d love to see it.

Stafford’s High School Irrelevant, But Don’t Tell That To Lions Fans

“Fantastic — as if the kid needs anymore pressure; now they’d heap this Curse Breaker status on him? Just because of the high school he attended?”

 

It’s come down, now, to a reliance on some sort of spiritual hope of fait accomplit.

That’s what Lions’ fans are reduced to, when it comes to their team’s quarterback situation.

But since they appear to want to believe in curses, then fair is fair: let them believe in a reason why such a curse has a way of being broken, right?

You now have about two months left to keep hearing about the Bobby Layne Curse, and the young man who just might be able to break it — like some sort of football Messiah.

Matthew Stafford is the kid QB from the University of Georgia who figures to be the likely draft choice of the Lions, No. 1 off the board, in the 2009 NFL Draft this April. Just being a young, talented quarterback with the goods to be a franchise savior isn’t enough in Detroit, though. You have to be a curse breaker, too.

The Curse in question is the one that the legendary Bobby Layne supposedly placed on the Lions franchise shortly after being traded in 1958. The trade was, granted, rather odd. The Lions were coming off a championship, and while Layne wasn’t the one under center (he was hurt and Tobin Rote took over late in the season), he was back to starting status when the ’58 season began.

Shortly after the season began, though, Layne was traded, to the Pittsburgh Steelers, and not only was the move surprising, it was abrupt. Just like that, the greatest QB in Lions history was gone. And there is no shortage of theories as to why.

Layne was involved with gamblers. He owed money. He had crossed the line off the field with his playboy-like behavior. His drinking, also legendary, had finally pushed to envelope too far. Whatever. Bottom line was, he wasn’t a Lion anymore. On his way out of town, Layne allegedly uttered these words, or something similar: “The Lions won’t win for at least fifty years.”

That was 50 years and five months ago.

So now there’s this: Stafford, as fate would have it, happened to attend the same Dallas high school that Layne and another Lions legend, Doak Walker, attended.

Cue the proponents of karma.

Bobby Layne, the pride of Highland Park High in Dallas (as if that matters)

The drafting of Stafford will be, to the point of ad nauseam, portrayed as the move to make because, how can you go wrong by drafting a kid who went to the same high school as Layne and Walker?

Forget that the Lions have probably, throughout their history, drafted countless players who attended the same high schools as other, more famous (and better) players.

But this is an understandable crutch the Lions fan is almost sure to use to keep himself propped up, mentally if nothing else, as the Draft approaches.

50 years. A nice, round number. The length of the supposed Curse. And now Stafford happens on the scene, right on cue.

It’s all hogwash, of course. But don’t tell the Lions fan; let him (and her) play with this bone for a couple months. Or longer, if the Lions actually do draft Stafford.

Fantastic — as if the kid needs anymore pressure; now they’d heap this Curse Breaker status on him? Just because of the high school he attended?

For now, at least, Stafford sounds confident and eager to take on the challenge. For sure.

“I don’t know if it’s destiny, but I’d love to have the opportunity to be a Lion, for sure,” Stafford said. “I think it’s a great opportunity for me. It could work out in the end, for sure.”

Sure it could.

You should know, before you give Stafford too many points for being upbeat, that all kids entering the draft utter such confident words. It’s cute, really, how naive and non-cynical they are at this age. Give him a few years and check back.

I remember how bright and confident Joey Harrington was when he breezed into town in 2002. His upbeat ‘tude even earned him the derisive nickname of “Joey Blue Skies.” How DARE he look at the Lions’ glass and find it half full!

I remember Andre Ware raising his fists — both of them — in triumph as the ESPN cameras caught him at home, moments after being drafted by the Lions in 1990.

“Run-n-shoot, baby!,” Ware yelled, referring to coach Wayne Fontes’s new offensive scheme, one that Ware himself ran at the University of Houston.

So Stafford is wearing his Honolulu Blue-colored glasses as he talks bravely of wanting to be the one to break whatever it is that has been dogging the Lions.

You want to know what’s been cursing the Lions?

Bad drafts. Bad trades. Bad coaches. Bad management decisions. Bad ownership, of course.

Not bad luck. Not some sort of make believe curse, levied on a team by a bitter, emotionally wounded quarterback on his way out of town.

So this talk of Stafford and his connection to Dallas’ Highland Park High? Silly, plain and simple.

But it makes for something that weary Lions fans can hang their helmets on. As Stafford would say, for sure.

Whether Matthew Stafford can save the Lions won’t have a lick to do with what high school he attended. Won’t have anything to do with Bobby Layne or Doak Walker or some make believe curse. If the kid is good enough, and he gets enough good coaching and blocking and support around him, then he has a shot. If not, then he’ll be another bust — another huge disappointment.

For sure.

Therrien Gets The Ziggy, And An Old Axiom Is Re-proved

“The league has been especially brutal on its coaches this season. We should have seen it coming, when Chicago fired Denis Savard about a week into the campaign. It started then, and hasn’t really let up.”

 

Fire the coach!

When all else fails — or even when just a little bit fails.

The Pittsburgh Penguins are the latest NHL team to render the ziggy. Michel Therrien got it Sunday, barely eight months after leading his team to the Stanley Cup Gosh Darn Finals, no less.

If that’s what happens to a Cup Finalist less than a year later…

It’s easier, they say, to can the coach than change all the players. Even though, ironically, it’s probably the players who are the cause for the coaching change to begin with.

Therrien was too tough on his players, it’s been theorized. Too strict with the discipline. Too rigid in his insistence that everyone — EVERYONE — play defense. Well, the nerve.

Time to change the messenger.

Former football coach Bum Phillips said it best.

“If they want to fire you, they’ll think of a reason. You’re too nice. You’re too mean.”

And this: “There’s two kinds of coaches: them’s that have BEEN fired, and them’s that are GOING to be fired. And I’ve been both.”

Therrien’s dismissal was accompanied by the usual excuse: his players were beginning to tune him out. Now, Therrien has only been on the job in Pittsburgh since midway through the 2005-06 season, when he took over for Eddie Olczyk, who now gabs into a microphone (and quite nicely, I might add) for network TV hockey coverage. So this was Therrien’s third full season — and the last one of those, as I said, featured a berth in the Cup Finals. Yet three years is like dog years: it might as well be 21, if you’re talking about the patience GMs and owners exhibit with their coaches.

Fire the coach!

So that’s what you can look forward to, if you’re a coach in the NHL. You can look forward to making it to first runner-up, and still end up getting canned less than a year later anyway.

The league has been especially brutal on its coaches this season. We should have seen it coming, when Chicago fired Denis Savard about a week into the campaign. It started then, and hasn’t really let up. Tampa Bay gave Barry Melrose about a month. And that after luring him from his broadcast lair, making a big show of it.

Therrien will be replaced by someone named Dan Bylsma, who was minding his own business, coaching the Pens’ top minor league affiliate, when Pittsburgh GM Ray Shero called him up to The Show. The replacement of Therrien with the minor leaguer Bylsma is a repeat of how Therrien himself came to be the Penguins’ coach; he was coaching in the minors when Olczyk was ziggied. Bylsma, 38, is a former NHL player and assistant coach, and a little research revealed that he was born in Grand Haven, Michigan. Fancy that.

Bylsma immediately started saying things that sounded just like a new coach who’s trying to make an immediate imprint, which he is, of course.

“With the strengths we have, we should be able to go into buildings and make teams deal with the quality of players we have at every position,” Bylsma was quoted on ESPN.com. “I look at a group that can win games right now, and we need to do that. We can do this, but the players have to believe we can do this.”

Yadda, yadda, yadda — right?

And, as scripted, Shero played the role of anguished executioner thusly: “I didn’t like the way, the direction, the team was headed. I’ve watched for a number of weeks and, at the end of the day, the direction is not that I wanted to have here. I wasn’t comfortable, and that’s why the change was made.”

“I can’t quit, you fired me!”

For sure, the Penguins have struggled, especially lately. The straw that broke Therrien’s back was a grisly 6-2 loss in Toronto on Saturday — a game in which the Penguins led, 2-1, going into the third period. Last week I wrote of how feeble the Penguins’ effort was when the Red Wings manhandled them in Pittsburgh on national television. So it’s not like the Penguins don’t have their troubles, because they do. No question. They’re having an awful time of it this season, trying to regain that mojo, and the playoffs are beginning to edge further and further from their grasp. Therrien, I’m sure, can’t be judged an innocent, either. The buck has to stop somewhere.

It all just serves to re-prove a time-worn axiom — one succinctly stated by former Pistons coach Earl Lloyd, shortly after becoming coach following Butch van Breda Kolff’s self-ziggy way back in 1971.

“It’s funny,” Earl said. “But when you sign on to become coach, you’re also signing your own termination papers.’”

Fire the coach!

It can’t hurt…right?