Nick Bakay's Manly House of Football

Doomsday101

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(Jan. 17, 2007) -- Creepy is your co-pilot ...
Much ado about the conference championships further down the page. First up, some musings on immortality ...

This year's Hall of Fame finalists have been whittled down, and like many of you, some of the names resonate with me in a hugely personal way ... while other names barely kick up a flicker. Either way, I'm going to put my cards on the table and confess I'm not one of these ball busters who think Hall passes should be doled out in a cruel and excruciating fashion. I lean more towards the "Let 'em all in" school.

Year after year, we hear the other side state its case: It just isn't a Hall of Fame unless those bronze busts are doled out parsimoniously. Let's make the great ones sweat, starting with the absurd premise that some guys may deserve to get in, but not in their first year of eligibility.

Don't get it, never got it -- if you're Hall of Fame good, you should get in fast. I don't care if that means there are years when 18 dudes all pile onto that stage, sweating through their yellow blazers in the Canton sun.
Part of this is just pure respect for anyone who played the game, let alone those who toiled long and hard enough to make it to the list of Hall finalists. I hate the idea that great warriors are forced to chase the depression of a youthful retirement with the heartbreak of a slow and mysterious election process.

Exhibit A: Art Monk
I don't even like the Commanders. Don't care about them in the least, but Monk was a fantastic player. He played on winners, he played forever, and his stats were great before league rules and philosophies changed and all of a sudden they look merely terrific. Monk should have been put in the Hall years ago, because if he does finally get enshrined all these years later, it will smack of a begrudging move that entailed winks, nods and side deals promising votes for other lost causes. It's the same way the Hall voters did Harry Carson wrong. I didn't always dig Carson's petulance on the subject, but the more I thought about it, the more I found myself agreeing with where he was coming from: If I'm good enough to get in, let me in and stop skull-banging me.

It's downright creepy, but when writers are appointed judge and jury, creepy is your co-pilot.

Trust me on this one, because I know what I'm talking about. Doesn't matter if you're the beat man sloggin' out your weekly coverage for the Penny Saver or a big-time Hollywood show runner banging out your third syndicated series -- writers are a bitter lot.

Schadenfreude is the word of the day, every day.
By now we're all too familiar with the hacky justifications of why beat writers are embittered by the jock experience. The huge inequity in wages multiplied by the boorish behavior they are subjected to in locker rooms from coast to coast -- all valid. Sniffing out quotes is no fun on a good day. On the days after you print something negative about a player, you can look forward to chills of epic proportions. Amortize all that bad blood over decades and it's completely organic that voting day becomes the Big Payback. A decade of dissing can yield medieval results: You made me suffer every time I stood in front of your locker with a notebook in my hand? No sweat, I have a long memory and I'll still be working this gig long after you hang it up.

Okay, we get it, but it has no bearing on the really big question: Why are writers the gatekeepers in the first place?

Most of 'em never played the game. So the reality is they can't have any real concept of what it's like to play it on the ultimate level of competition. They don't need to. Knowing how to generate good headlines has very little to do with actually knowing which blocker had what responsibility on a play. Full exemptions for the guys who actually break down film, play by play -- the Dr. Zs and K.C. Joyners are a rare breed indeed.

Frankly, I'll never understand why the Hall vote isn't in the hands of the legendary evaluators: The personnel men who consistently built great teams with a jeweler's eye for talent and a profound understanding of the game. Do you think you'd ever have the guts to question the process if Hall of Famers were selected by a small group headed by Ron Wolf, Bill Polian and Jimmy Johnson?
Yeah, me neither.

But since we're stuck with the results of scribes filibustering for 12 hours down in Miami, I thought I'd take a shot at making the case for every single one of this year's candidates. It started out as a joke, but then it turned out to be pretty damn easy ... starting with the punter!

Ray Guy:
Just look at the playoff games last Saturday -- Adam Vinatieri single-handedly beats the mighty Ravens, including a shtoinker that hit the cross bar and landed just good from 51 out. I think it's safe to say he was the best free-agent signing of '06. (In the same breath, I think it's also safe to say that T.O., the big-splash free agent, is no longer a game changer.)
Then there's Gostkowski filling Adam V's mighty big capezios in New England, cool as ice, 3 for 3, including the clutch game winner. On the other side of the ledger, Nate Kaeding failed to convert a mighty long one ... though just a shade longer than Vinatieri's.

How about watching Saints punter Steve Wetherford turn a sure-blocked punt into an improvised first down? Or Robbie Gould icing Seattle following a bad 'Hawk punt?

Hey, this is the manly house, and over the years no one has more fun with the entire concept that is "kicker" than yours truly, but this week I have to praise them like I should -- and that brings me to the coolest kicker of them all:

There's a reason Ray Guy is the only punter who ever gets serious Hall consideration. He remains the only punter who was, well ... exciting.
I appreciate what a quality punter can add to the battle for field position. Brian Moorman is the Bills' only true Pro Bowler for a few years now. Magnificent, but exciting? Not so much. Leave it to the great Raiders of the '70s to get that one right. Even their punter was a loose cannon! Guy was lithe and cool. The man skied his kicks so high, he was dogged by rumors the Raiders pumped his balls full of helium. He hit the ceiling in a dome, he also served as their kickoff specialist, booming 'em into the end zone regularly enough to inspire the league to move the tee back 10 yards. Ray was even listed as a wide receiver on their depth chart!

If you weren't around for it, you'll just have to take my word for it -- every time Ray punted, it was an event. Everyone knows that punts are merely foreplay to a commercial break. That being said, in 1975, you refilled your drink after Ray launched one. I have no doubt we have Ray Guy to thank for one of life's great, simple pleasures -- the punt hang-time clock! Bottom line? -- SHOULD HAVE BEEN ELECTED FIRST BALLOT! Moving on ...
So how do I top making a convincing case for a punter? How about the administrator category? I know, I know, never hit anyone on the field, blah blah blah -- but the way I see it, this year's ballot has another slam dunk, and it's simple as can be when you look at the game from a fan perspective: Paul Tagliabue is a first-ballot guy.

Some of his moves may have irked you over the years, but the bottom line? From 1989-2006, the league had no work stoppages. Can't be said of Major League Baseball -- they called off the World freakin' Series! The NHL cancelled a whole year -- turned out to be pretty good for the game, but still -- if you're a fan (and I am) major withdrawal symptoms! Even David Stern couldn't stop the NBA from shuttin' her down back in 1999.

That's right, over the same span of time, every other game broke your heart. What more proof do you need of the magnitude of this accomplishment? A hat tip to Gene Upshaw, but he's already in the Hall as a world-class player.

Thurman Thomas:
EXHIBIT "A" OF MY FIRST BALLOT OR BUST ARGUMENT: How does this man have to wait a year? Permit me to vomit. Admittedly, I bleed Buffalo-bias, but I don't have to be a homer to point out that no other player led the league in yards from scrimmage over four consecutive seasons. 'Nuff said. I love Thurman Thomas so much, I forgave him for dressing in that fey Dolphin turquoise in his twilight. This year it gets done, and all is as it should be.

Andre Reed:
See my feelings for Thurman, then hold a mirror up for 'Dre. He may not have matched Irvin's Super Bowl wins, but he surpasses him in every other number that counts. Seven Pro Bowls, and he did it all -- got open for the bombs, turned the intermediate catches into game breakers with the sweetest RAC you ever saw, and never got shy over the middle. You get the sense that this is another fantastic player these mottled, grumpy, wide-hipped electors are going to toy with for years and it makes me want to track them down at their duplex rentals and beat them silly.

Art Monk:
Think I already made my case here. As a footnote, let the record show I made the case for Monk and Harry Carson even though they both helped beat my Bills in Super Bowls. Which brings me to ...

Michael Irvin:
For some reason, I get e-mail flack about spending too much time pumping up Dallas in the column, which makes me snort Ketel One right up the old left nostril. I'm from Buffalo -- the only thing that makes me burn with anger more than the Cowboys might be the fact that Bret Hull is, was, and will always be in the crease! That being said, it's pretty academic here: The triplets fueled the 'Boys, and the 'Boys won three rings -- 'nuff said. Although if he gets in before Andre does, that's wack.

THE LINEMEN:
Russ Grimm
Bruce Mathews
Gary Zimmerman
Bob Kuechenberg

Who the hell other than Paul Zimmerman is going to actually sit there and tell me they know what the hell any of these guys did better than the other blockers on the list? This one's simpler than the plot to an Olsen twins movie: Any lineman who was good enough to make it this far should be in the Hall.
THE DISRUPTORS

Fred Dean: You don't win Lombardi Trophies without the big pass rusher, and Dean brought the big fear from San Diego to the Bay area in time for two of them.

Richard Dent: see Dean, only "Chicago style."
Andre Tippett: Great player on average teams, 100 sacks, let him in.
Derrick Thomas: Another no-brainer -- he changed the game plan every time he lined up to attack the QB, and who knows what the final numbers might have been had he not checked out so tragically.

Roger Wehrli:
Let me make this really simple for you: Here's a guy who is getting serious consideration all these years after having played for some of the most forgettable teams in Cardinals history -- and that's saying something. We all know the Cards haven't ever done anything truly meaningful, but at least these days they try: They hire Denny Green, they draft Matt Leinart, they fire Denny Green. ... Well, there was a time when the Cards didn't even do that. They just sucked, day in, day out, with no hope of even being remotely interesting -- and here's a guy who played for them in those dark days and still is a Hall contender? MY GOD, HASN'T HE SUFERED ENOUGH? HOW CAN ROGER WEHRLI BE LESS THAN PHENOMENAL TO HAVE EVEN GARNERED AN OUNCE OF ATTENTION PLAYING FOR THE WORST FRANCHISE IN NFL HISTORY?!

For the love of god, give the man a bronze likeness!!!
SENIOR COMMITTEE CANDIDATES:

Gene Hickerson (1958-1973)
Look, I don't have a clue here, but I'm not sure I need one: Hickerson qualifies under the aforementioned any lineman who gets this far must have been awesome rule, plus he sprung Jim Brown and Leroy Kelly into the Hall, and spanned two completely different eras and styles -- that's all I need, I'm done, where are we eating lunch?

Charlie Sanders
This one is a little touchy, since we have a senior candidate, yet I remember his game vividly. I don't know why Charlie hasn't been in the Hall for years now. For all you kids at home, think Antonio Gates ... if he could really block. I mean he could kill people -- as the game of his era demanded. Today, teams have two tight ends -- a big grunt who can operate like an extra tackle when blocking is required, and a finesse player who can operate like a third wide receiver -- Charlie was both. Awesome, stretched the field, could bust the big ones right down the middle of the field -- a dead heat for my all-time favorite Detroit Lion with teammate Lem Barney.

*Side note: the classic Sports Illustrated poster of Lem, shoes taped ankle-high, waiting under a descending punt remains the gold standard. There, I said it.

http://www.superbowl.com/news/story/9937253
 
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