When did players in the National Football League lose their spine?
I know I saw it around here somewhere. It’s the one that was marked “competition without crying”.
No, seriously. When did the NFL players turn into whiny little children?
We need to fire up the wayback machine and get Dick Butkus, Conrad Dobler, Lawrence Taylor, Jack Youngblood and crew on the field and on the sidelines to school these spoiled brats.
Focus, if you will, on the latest instance of this not-so-rare phenomenon. The Falcons-Lions game on Sunday past, or in keeping with the media insistence of everything being tagged with a descriptive and cute sounding sobriquet will now forever be referred to as “Taunt Gate”. Where the Falcons couldn’t just walk in, score a mighty upset, and then depart leaving “Lions Nation” (isn’t every fan base now deemed to be a “Nation”, and does that mean Larry Lucchino gets a kickback every time it’s in print or on a tee shirt?) all believing they were about to be haunted again by the specter of Matt Millen.
Instead we get a thrilling performance from Falcons QB Matt Ryan, who depending on your perspective is every week either fricasseed or fawned over in Atlanta, and a team that may have played it’s first all-around game this season.
And Ryan’s teammates whining about their meal ticket being allegedly (damn lawyers) taunted by at least two Detroit defenders.
Yes. You read correctly. Ndamukong Suh and Cliff Avril, dastardly defensive doers of evil and mayhem that they are, apparently and with malice aforethought, saw Atlanta offensive lineman Will Svitek (please read the following words in capitals in the manner of one stunningly horrified at the mere sight of such a callous act), ACCIDENTALLY STEP ON RYAN’S ANKLE WHILE HE WAS DOWN ON THE GROUND AND HELPLESS, and then took it upon themselves to allegedly (there’s that pesky journalism sneaking in there again) verbally belittle Ryan while he lay writhing in excruciating agony (or at the very least some mild discomfort), exacting some measure of twisted payback for Ryan and the Falcons making the Lions appear more like lost cubs in the wilderness.
This was not the end of this sordid tale. Certainly not. For in what seemed like a blinding flash, (OK, maybe a few hours after the game, which in reality is akin to that flash as the jock thinking process sometimes goes), the Falcons retaliated as only manly men playing a manly game in a manly fashion would even dare consider.
They cried. Oh, the type without tears just to remain manly. But cried none the less.
They whined about Suh taunting Matt Ryan. To the media. Their teammates. The NFL. Snooki. Sponge Bob. Anyone who would listen. Thus cranking up the weekly “Cauldron of Contrived Controversies” the game needs so desperately to take the easily distracted mind of the fan away from the fact the game quite often deteriorates into a morass of mediocrity.
Falcons receiver Roddy White was indignant over “the (colorful language) they were doing when Matt got hurt”. Center Todd McClure was absolutely certain beyond the shadow of any logical doubt (and in the midst of a roaring crowd and the emotional outpouring of the moment) that Suh said “Get the cart and several other things I can’t repeat”.
As of this writing, NFL officials and media investigators have been unable to confirm the unrepeatable parts included the four letter word “nyah” repeated at least half a dozen times.
A later examination of the videotape showed neither Suh nor Avril were even in frame before and after Ryan went down. Ryan was so badly hurt that he stayed out for the remainder of that series and then returned.
Sources tell us that after being told there was nothing to backup their claims about Suh and Avril on the tape, White and McClure demanded an immediate League investigation to ascertain who that person was standing on the grassy knoll adjacent to Ryan. We await the results of said inquest from the NFL’s top investigator, known only as “Mr. Zapruder”.
When did the NFL descend into such screaming madness? When did it become proper for these scholarly athletes to stoop so low as to leave behind a verbal bomb for the respected opposition? How could anyone weighing over 300 pounds, wearing menacing garb consisting of a steel cage surrounding their face, body armor meant to take a few hundred pounds of exerted force upon impact, thick gloves protecting hands better able to deliver and absorb blows, and being able to use parts of their anatomy as weapons of violence and mayhem allow themselves to be party to such a stunning lack of sportsmanship and proper demeanor?
I’ll pause for a moment as you extricate yourself from the maddening lumps of dripping sarcasm now enveloping the audience.
The sour grapes of wrath dribbled forth by members of the Falcons must be neatly shoveled into a well lit room prepared for the bathing and diapering of infants. The stuff of cry babies and sore losers. All true save for the fact the Falcons won the game and made their statement on the field.
I surmise then here in the more genteel and overwhelmingly officiated pro football of the 21st century tattling and using the media to portray petulance is not merely allowed but encouraged.
Of course we are at odds with what actually happened. Suh has taken to the media in defending himself, national writers are expressing indignation with his brutality, the Falcons won’t let it die because they’re ready to milk their defeat of the once-invincible Lions as long as they can to keep their mojo working, and we can only wait for the inevitable “Twitter” war to begin in earnest.
Where did the National Football League go?
You remember the one I’m talking about.
Where players were so heavy into taunting each other before, during and after each play you would wait until the cold weather games seeking to decipher exactly what each frigid breath meant. Where every manner of intimidation within the rules was used in a physical and verbal sense, save for the absolute rule that when it comes to insults you could NEVER use anyone’s Mother anywhere in the taunt. Where players wouldn’t run crying to the media as if their diaper needed changing, choosing instead to keep it private and let it build steam for the next opponent and the hoped-for rematch somewhere down the road.
In other words, when the game was played by athletes with an unwritten code of conduct that didn’t need the media, Facebook, Twitter, carrier pigeon, smoke signals or any other form of self-promotion to make just one thing paramount.
Let your play on the field do all the talking.
Reading some of these self-proclaimed analysts cry about what a “dirty player” Suh is has to be the height of hilarity. I’m certain that at no time during any game played at anytime are their players gouging, slapping, taunting, knuckling or in any other fashion taking a few liberties with their party guests.
If Suh is such a dirty player, then sit back and enjoy the show. Somewhere along the line guys on the other side of that line will be taking a page from Butkus, Page, Singletary, Selmon and their brood to rearrange a few teeth and/or other protruding bodily elements.
Until that time, a few words of sage advice for players who seem bent on helping the over-cautious overlords turning what used to be the most physical game on the planet into something more resembling a turn around the dance floor with Nancy Grace or some other talent-starved mound of molecules.
Put a cleat in it. Stop whining. End the preening. No “man up” necessary. Play the game on the field.
We have a tutu in just your size if you choose otherwise.
(Ed Berliner keeps a cadre of lawyers always close at hand, and heartily recommends NFL faithful of all teams catch their daily NFL news and notes at "Pro Football Masters" http://profootballmasters.com)
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