Category: Sports

The legendary Larry Munson, the radio voice of the University of Georgia football, is celebrating his 40th anniversary behind the Bulldog mike this year. The occasion has received a lot of national attention.

I first heard his raspy drawl when I lived in Atlanta in the ’90s. His reputation had preceded him, so I checked out Munson even though I was hardly a UGA fan.

It was a dumbfounding experience. Granted, he was colorful and down-home, but I had never heard an announcer describe the home team as “we” before. As in “‘We’ were stopped just inches short of the goal.” Or “‘We’ just burned our second time out.” Or “‘We’ score! ‘We’ score!”

I understand home team announcing and, as a fan, I’m all for it. It’s part of the collective rooting experience. It’s part of identifying with your team. But the “we” stuff is just over the top.

And, yes, that’s also the style of Gene Deckerhoff, the voice of Florida State University football and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. But whether it’s the other team’s guy or it’s ours, it’s still bush league.

Sorry, fellow FSU and Bucs fans, it just is. We deserve better.

Chris Simms, fortunately, is out of intensive care. The Bucs, alas, are not.

Score one for the marketplace.

Selling tickets for more than face value in Florida is now as legal as charging a lot more for a hotel room on college football weekends. They are both a function of what the market will bear.

Also call it a concession to common sense. The police at Bucs’ games, for example, can now spend more of their time watching for, say, counterfeiters, pickpockets and assaultive drunks, none of whom are associated with victimless crimes.

“Swagger.”

It’s one of those terms that, once it worms its connotative way into the parlance, establishes a beachhead. But unlike “edgy” or “snarky” coinages, this one trumps trendy. Negatively so.

After the University of Miami suffered that humiliating 40-3 Peach Bowl defeat to LSU last season and began this year with a loss to Florida State, fans and – especially – pundits immediately zeroed in on the reason. The ‘Canes, it was determined, had lost their “swagger.”

Say what? One would have thought that deodorizing a strutting, insolent air was worthy of approbation. Are people actually nostalgic for braggadocio and bluster? For Exhibit A of America’s dysfunctional black culture?

Let’s face it, watching Miami with “swagger” is like looking at looters. Maybe that boorish, in-your-face genie can’t be totally re-bottled, but if class means anything, it should be worth settling for less swagger and a few more losses.

Jim Leavitt is the only head coach that USF, now in its 10th year of intercollegiate football, has ever known. He is obviously more responsible than anyone for putting the Bulls on the map, into the Big East and in a bowl game within a decade. He has surpassed most expectations for the program.

But not all.

Back in the mid-’90s when the program was created, there were naysayers. Football is expensive, it was pointed out. Most programs don’t operate in the black. And the pressure to compete can also lead to easily compromised standards.

The latter argument prompted two USF presidents, Frank Borkowski and Betty Castor, to underscore a unique opportunity. USF didn’t have to undo anything. Nothing needed fixing. It had the chance — and the charge — to build a program the right way. With legitimate student-athletes – not academic misfits or societal miscreants.

Affiliation with the BCS Big East will continue to help on the financial side – as will winning and scheduling teams that will draw well at Raymond James Stadium. As to being an exemplar program, that hasn’t happened.

USF has been no stranger to suspensions, arrests, academic shortcomings and transfer-itis. It tends to come with the territory of high-pressure, 1-A football, but it was hoped the virgin terrain would be different with a start-up program.

It hasn’t been.

Moreover, the relationship of Leavitt with the media seems to be eroding. A couple of weeks ago Leavitt put in a cameo appearance at a regional media event that unnecessarily alienated many of the very people whose job it is to cover USF. TV interviews at the McNeese State game were terse to rude.

Granted, the media – shorthand for a bunch of geeks who never played the game at this level – can be bothersome, especially if things aren’t going well. But Leavitt needs to remember the media’s role and impact. It’s a de facto , gratis publicity machine that can criticize as well as compliment. Working with it is a necessary part of a very public job that pays $1 million a year.

Sure, the media can be blamed for intrusive behavior and inane questions.

But it can’t be blamed for academic non-qualifiers, positive drug tests, last season’s coaching meltdown at Connecticut or the recruiting of Carlton Hill.

What is it with those published point spreads and NFL pre-season games? Do people actually use them as a basis for bets? These are exhibitions featuring cameo performances by frontline players and lots of playing time for those not good enough to line up on regular-season Sundays. The only thing real is the ticket price.

Justin. Floyd.

Enough.

Granted, we live in a society where everyone’s birthright seemingly includes a “Get Out Of Jail Free” victim card. But wouldn’t it have been refreshing if these athletic elites – Justin Gatlin, the Olympic champion and co-world record holder in the 100-meter dash and Floyd Landis, the winner of this year’s Tour de France – had better explanations for their failed drug tests.

Gatlin has resorted to the “disgruntled masseuse” defense. He says he was rubbed the wrong way by a masseuse with a grudge. Hence those elevated testosterone levels in his system.

As for Landis, he’s backed off the defense that his own system produced the skewed testosterone ratios. That’s because the drug charge now includes synthetic testosterone. Landis’ latest theory: Those with “agendas,” whatever that means. We don’t know, because Landis isn’t saying any more than that – even to Jay Leno the other night.

Maybe the better explanation would be: “I did it. I’m sorry I did it, and I’m really sorry I got caught doing it.

“When you’re an elite athlete your universe is different from others’. The drive to succeed to the point that you are the best in the world at something is unfathomable for most people. The pressure is enormous – but the rewards incredibly enticing and enriching. And the likelihood that your competition isn’t pristine makes rationalizing easy.

“And yet you still have to train like a demon and outwork everybody. You just want that extra edge that separates the very good from the great. It’s incredibly tempting. I am talented enough and dedicated enough to be a world-class athlete, but I wasn’t strong enough to withstand that temptation.

“I apologize to everyone I have disappointed. And to those still tempted: ‘Don’t do it. It’s not worth it.’ Getting that ‘extra edge’ is a nice way of saying ‘cheating.’ And there’s nothing nice about that.”

Sometimes you just have to throw yourself a change-up. Alter the dynamics. Get out of the office.

Especially if your place of business is the office of current events, which is shorthand for everything that goes wrong.

So, enough for now of the plight of Lebanon, the grief of Baghdad and the mortality of Castro. Out, damn spotlight on neocons and Nancy Pelosi. A break from partisan polemics on stem-cell research and a minimum-wage hike.

A TV timeout from Vipir and Doppler and Vixen and Dominatrix.

A hold, however brief, on ranting, raving or just musing about impact fees, insurance premiums, the condo market, Katherine Harris, the mayor’s salary, campaign cheap shots, Gulf drilling, a spate of homicides and Xbox killers with unhappy upbringings. And a temporary embargo on pondering the empathetic rationale for chasing and killing someone who threatened to kill you and the judicial frustration of searching for a sufficiently clueless jury pool to accommodate the trial of a monster.

So it’s off to Disney’s Wide World of Sports to abuse a press credential and take in a Bucs’ pre-season practice. On the lam from that other world. Some observations:

*Oops. Orlando in early August is a Bessemer blast. However, the main grandstand, which holds about 3,000 fans, is covered and there are plenty of tents for media and VIPs. But no one has ever called the shady parts of the Sahara comfortable.

*The packed grandstand is a study in red. As in Buc-jersey red . The most popular: Brooks and Alstott. Also sighted: a couple of Lynches and one Jurevicius. But no Sapps or K. Johnsons.

*Familiar face: Tom Izzo , the Michigan State basketball coach was on hand as an invitee of Jon Gruden. Likely enough, an indoor sport never looked so good.

*Practices as precision pieces: They run on Mussolini time. The scoreboard countdowns keep everyone apprised. Whistles and horns, like something from Pavlov’s playbook, direct players to their various stations. It’s perversely appealing to see millionaires at the beck-and-call of air horns.

*Impressive: The sheer number of very large people. That said, 370-pound Toniu Fonoti still stands out. Probably popular too. On the field, he’s the next best thing to cloud cover.

* Hydration helpers: Gatorade is everywhere. Even in the press tent. No cramping over a laptop.

*Scrimmage: Some things apparent even to the non-sports scribe. Cadillac Williams is noticeably and notably quick and slippery. Good eyes, fast feet, excellent balance. Fun to watch if you’re not an overmatched defender.

*Now hear this: Gruden knows he has no depth behind starting QB Chris Simms. As a result, he’s paying a lot of attention to promising rookie QB Bruce Gradkowski . Most of that attention comes in the form of raspy yelling. And the language is a lot saltier than “Jiminy Christmas.” But he needs this guy to be good. In a hurry.

*The couple: Among the fans this day is a 60-ish couple from Auburndale, Don and Debbie Quantermus. It’s their annual visit. They’re in the special needs section. Debbie is in a wheelchair, clutching a football that was autographed last year by Ike Hilliard. Her left side is paralyzed from a stroke.

“I enjoy being here,” says Debbie, “although Don still has to explain what’s going on. Being this close makes it personal. We watch all the games on TV. But when I’m here, it’s a reminder that I’m not confined. That’s important.”

When asked for a prediction for the upcoming season, Debbie defers to Don, a Walgreen’s manager. “I’d say 11-5 or better, if everybody stays healthy.”

*The VIP: Sipping an orange juice, munching a granola bar and enjoying an unobstructed, shady view of the scrimmage is Fred Mills. The Orlando resident is a friend of Bucs’ receivers coach Richard Mann and is a scout for the Saskatchewan Rough Riders of the Canadian Football League. Back in the 1960s he had been a wide receiver at the University of New Mexico.

He likes the Bucs’ corps of receivers. He’s been especially impressed with the early work of veteran David Boston and the rookie from Notre Dame, Maurice Stovall.

“Boston still looks explosive,” observed Mills, “and Stovall has good hands and runs good routes.”

His prediction: “I see this team going deeper into the playoffs – if the quarterbacking holds up.”

*The mascot: That would be 48-year-old Mike Parisi, a short, stocky, heavy equipment operator for the Port Richey public works department. When in character, the native New Yorker goes by the name “Bone Shaker.” And he’s in character – and costume. From his modified Hell’s Angel helmet with a bone on top to long skeleton earrings to loops of beads in the shape of skulls to lots of red and white and black war paint. Kind of a poor man’s “Big Nasty.” He’s a Bucs’ fan to his marrow and a season-ticket holder. He’s been showing up to games as “Bone Shaker” for the last five years.

“It’s a fun way to cheer,” he says in a still-vintage, Queens accent. “And I think it’s fun for the crowd too. It’s how I show my full support.

“But it’s not for everybody,” he concedes. “You do hear all kinds of stuff, and not all of it is complimentary. But most of it is.”

*The cheerleaders: Let’s be honest. Who cares what they have to say? They are cheer providers.

*The talk show host: Dan Sileo does a morning drive-time, talk-radio show on WDAE, 620-AM in Tampa and is also heard (740) in Orlando. He’s a former lineman for the University of Miami and the Bucs. He’s a ratings’ magnet in his time slot and is here with his remote set up for the duration of camp.

“Any time you get out of your comfort zone, in my case the studio, it changes things,” he explains. “The biggest challenge is timing. This morning I missed my 15-second cue (for commercial break). Things are a lot looser on remote, but people are also more forgiving.”

That’s because those listeners know they’re getting some first-hand, insider stuff from someone who has played the game.

“How could I talk about it – and criticize it – unless I was here seeing for myself?” he asks rhetorically. “Training camp is where you make your credibility. Practices are closed when the season begins.”

Some early Sileo takes:

^”(Top draft pick) Davin Joseph doesn’t look very agile. Doesn’t appear to have the good feet.”

^”Maurice Stovall looks like a steal in the third round (of the draft). He reminds me of (former Miami teammate) Michael Irvin.”

^”It’s apparent Cadillac Williams understands the offense more. I think he needs 400 touches (carries and receptions). You don’t want him on the bench chewing ice on third down.”

^”In this league, you make money with your ability, and you earn it with your effort. Look at Tom Brady or Peyton Manning. They don’t take snaps off.”

*Media and Gruden: The still boyish-looking, 43-year-old head coach is especially adept at rhetorically feeding the press. He’s hardly sound-bite challenged.

He has off-the-shelf material that can be inserted anywhere (“We’re very pleased with some aspects, but we have a long way to go” and can punctuate remarks with deprecating humor (“I think Fonoti’s head weighs 185 pounds”) which helps when the Q & A is as predictable as the heat index.

Direct media questions deal almost exclusively with individuals. How’s Davin Joseph doing? What’s with all the yelling at Gradkowski? What about Fonoti? Is the tailored (reduced) practice schedule for Joey Galloway still working?

Gruden knows his comments can also be read by players. He responds accordingly.

^”Davin Joseph is working harder, getting better.”

^”We’re pleased with Gradkowski. As a passer and as a manager of our running game. But he does need a kick in the butt sometimes

*Amid the countdown to football season, it’s easy to lose focus on other late summer and fall sports. But USF has high hopes for its (men’s) soccer team. The College News’ Pre-Season Poll has USF listed 11th – ahead of such perennial powers as Indiana, Clemson and Notre Dame.

*Sign of the times: At the recent Atlantic Coast Conference football media day, the shop talk wasn’t limited to pre-season ACC predictions, gamesmanship and whether Terry Bowden would return to coaching. Players owning firearms was also a hot topic.

Miami’s head coach Larry Coker: “I don’t really want our players to have firearms. I’ll address it and discourage it.”

At Florida State, players are required to register their hunting guns, but there’s no small firearms policy in place.

Rockne. Leahy. Parseghian. Leavitt.

OK, it’s a stretch, but it’s what can happen when you share a marquee, and reportedly USF and Notre Dame could be squaring off in a home-and-home series within the next decade.

To anyone who’s been around awhile, this is still very heady, barely believable stuff. A decade ago USF was still that “commuter school” better known for quantity than quality. Now it’s an archetypical metro, community-partner, research institution that also happens to be among the top 20 largest universities in the country.

It also has a major college football program, calls the finest facility in the country its home field, plays in the prestigious Big East Conference, has been to a bowl game and has already played the likes of Penn State, Miami and Alabama and beaten the likes of Pittsburgh, Syracuse, Southern Mississippi and Louisville.

Notre Dame? Shake down the thunder – here come the Bulls.