Bleacher Report - Articles by Todd

Always Controversial, Terrell Owens Truly Is "The Anti-Player"

Todd — Sat, 13 Dec 2008 20:56:25 -0500

Call me a purist.

Yep. That’s what it must be. That must be why I feel as strongly as I do about the game of football. Why I’m compelled to add my two cents to a topic that has received more attention than it’s worth. A topic that seems small in the majestic history of football, and even smaller in the wake of the challenges our nation faces.

Maybe it’s naiveté. Or a sincere passion for this game that has enriched my life and probably yours.

Whatever the case, you, noble reader, are my release. And I can only hope you can bear with me.

Yep. I’m the guy who prefers college football to its professional step-son, the National Football League. I got more of a thrill watching Boise State’s “Statue of Liberty” play in its miracle win over Oklahoma than watching Eli Manning and David Tyree’s unbelievable play in last year’s Super Bowl.

I’m the guy who watches the Army-Navy game each year—loyally. And has convinced himself that those slower, smaller guys represent real football players.

I’m the guy who believes that football is a microcosm of life—a testament to the power of mankind when he bands himself to another for a common cause. I believe that even in a world that emphasizes the accomplishment of individuals the game of football is evidence that a team is not merely a sum of its players—it’s a manifestation of their common effort.

Now you may not agree with me on all that.

And that’s fine.

You might be saying to yourself, “This guy’s got problems.”

And I do.

But I think we can all agree on one thing.

Terrell Owens has bigger problems.

Let me posit for you now a disclaimer. Life has taught me never to judge a man’s character. Each of us is a victim and beneficiary of our own experiences and each is endowed with our own strengths and weakness.

So in keeping with that, I attempt to explain my opinion of the player and not the person. And in my opinion, Owens is "The Anti-Player."

That’s right, The Anti-Player.

He might be one of the greatest athletes on the face of the earth. He may be a physical freak of nature. But the man just simply isn’t a football player.

I’m a young guy. But even as one born in a generation with an alleged over-emphasis on “self,” it’s hard to find any character in public life as uncontrollably narcissistic as Mr. Owens seems to be. The recently exposed Governor of Illinois should be referred to as the “Terrell Owens of politics.”

Owens' recent tirade against fellow teammates Tony Romo and Jason Witten is perhaps one of the most incredible acts of selfishness in sports and is a stain to the game of football. The allegation that his teammates are conspiring against Owens to marginalize his role is laughable. It suggests that Owens believes his failure as a player is so important to his teammates that they would sacrifice their own interests out of spite.

Now, in truth, it’s not as inconceivable as some proclaim. Football players are human. And humans have done worse things out of spite.

But Owens' argument is delegitimized by the fact that allegations such as these seem to follow him everywhere he goes. It was there in San Francisco. It was there in Philadelphia.

Now, it’s Dallas.

Okay, let me come clean. I’ve been a Washington Redskins fan for as long as I can remember. So the recent unhinging of the Dallas Cowboys brings with it a sadistic glee that only a 'Skins fan could enjoy.

But as an admirer of the game, I feel for Owens’ teammates.

And I even feel for Owens.

What’s unfortunate is that in his endless pursuit of relevance, Owens is on a constant march toward insignificance. His insatiable thirst for highlights and statistical dominance serves only to leave him a footnote in the noble annals of football history.

Owens could be one of the most triumphant figures in sports; a remarkable athlete from Alabama who emerged out of the little-known University of Tennessee-Chattanooga to become an NFL legend. Instead, he squanders that opportunity with every team he unravels.

Owens doesn’t yet understand that concept of team I described above. He doesn’t understand that greatness on the field is defined not by the number of touchdowns one scores, or yards one gains—but by one’s contribution to the game. It’s one’s legacy, not his stats that will define him, just as it is each of our legacy, not our successes, that will define our lives.

And what will be T.O’s legacy?

He can’t say how many teams he helped lead to Super Bowl victory. Instead, he can only point to those he’s left in his wake.

He can’t argue he was a unifying force—a leader, because the path he takes is always toward conflict and spite.

He can’t suggest he was the hero, because no matter how spectacular his catches, he’ll be the guy we use to exemplify how not to play the game.

Unfortunately at this rate, all Owens will have is his stats and his pay stubs.

Look, I’m one who truly believes professional football players deserve to get paid. They sacrifice their bodies week-in and week-out for our collective amusement while some rich club owner gets a little richer. But with that wealth we should expect football players to conduct themselves with an appreciation for the game...our game.

Football doesn’t belong to one player, or a team, or even the NFL’s owners. Football belongs to the people that fill its bleachers week after week—and it’s the players...the real players—who recognize that.

Unlike many, I don’t believe it’s too late for Owens to renew his legacy. But until he understands that his contribution to the game of football goes beyond his presence and stats, his legacy will forever be defined by what he destroyed rather than what he accomplished.

Until then, he is and will remain, The Anti-Player.

Army Black Knights Fire Stan Brock: Can a New Coach Renew the Football Program?

Todd — Sat, 13 Dec 2008 16:24:51 -0500

West Point teaches its cadets that in war, one must learn the lessons of the past. The question for those who follow its football program is: Will the Academy take its own advice?

West Point’s Athletic Director, Kevin Anderson, announced on Friday that Army Head Football Coach Stan Brock was fired after just two seasons on the Hudson.

But as the debate emerges about whether Brock (6-18) had adequate time to turn the program around; one thing should be clear to Army football fans:

The turn of events that culminated in Stan Brock’s dismissal began nine years ago on a Philadelphia street corner.

It was there, as the legend goes, on Dec. 5, 1999, one day after the disappointing 19-9 loss to Navy, that then-Army Athletic Director Rick Greenspan fired Head Coach Bob Sutton.

With that, the Young-Sutton era came to an end at West Point.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that the era was the end-all-be-all of Army football, nor did (as some speculate) Bob Sutton’s firing represent the loss of the Black Knights’ “last best hope” of being competitive.

But the termination started the program down a path of regression and lost identity that has plagued West Point ever since.

Sutton’s tenure at the Academy was by no means flawless. In nine seasons, he led the Black Knights to a pedestrian 44-55-1 record and had only two winning seasons (1993 and 1996).

Yet, Sutton understood the nuances of coaching at the Academy. He understood that unlike most I-A (now FBS) teams, the institution defines the football program at West Point rather than the football program defining the institution.

His teams reflected the tenacity, discipline and selfless service one would expect of a West Point football team. And though often outperformed by their more athletic opponents and maybe occasionally outcoached, they were notoriously competitive.

Enter Coach Todd Berry.

Despite just a 24-24 record at Illinois State, Berry succeeded Sutton as the 32nd head football coach at Army.

After all, Berry had just led the Division I-AA (now FCS subdivision) Redbirds to an 11-3 record in 1999 (its second consecutive winning season), and it was apparent to Rick Greenspan that Berry could lead the Black Knights of the Hudson out of the quagmire of mediocrity.

Young, clean-cut, and charming, Berry represented a fresh face and new ideas. He promised to abandon the triple-option that had been the cornerstone of the Young-Sutton era.

Instead, he implemented the single-back, pro-style offense he had employed at Illinois State. Additionally, he slashed the roster to focus on developing the team’s best athletes.

Yet, Berry’s tenure proved a huge disappointment. Midway through his fourth season in 2003, he was fired after a 0-7 start. Army would go on to lose more games that season than any in NCAA I-A football history, with a record of 0-13.

Many argue that it was his refusal to keep the triple-option that led to the failure of his program. But the problem with Berry’s reign on the Hudson was bigger than that. In Greenspan and Berry’s plan to modernize Army’s program, they had forfeited those elements which defined it.

It wasn’t that Berry should have kept the wishbone because it was the only system that could work at Army. He should have kept it because it is a system that Army can actually run better than other programs.

The tenacity, discipline, selflessness, and intelligence fostered at the service academy give its teams a distinct advantage in operating the triple-option and its intricacies. By abandoning this system, Berry forfeited this advantage.

It wasn’t that cutting players to concentrate on the most talented athletes was a far-fetched idea. But the real question is why?

West Point is one of the few college programs where all of its players are on an academic scholarship. Without the need to worry about athletic scholarship limitations, why arbitrarily limit the pool of athletes the team can field?

I digress.

After Berry’s dismissal and the inconceivably terrible 2003 season, West Point’s athletic department faced incredible pressure from alumni to find a big-time football coach to right the program.

Enter Bobby Ross.

A legend in many ways, Ross was an interesting fit for the academy. He was a VMI graduate who had served as an Army officer in the early-70s. He began his head coaching career at another military school, The Citadel.

In the ‘80s he had great success leading Maryland and then Georgia Tech. With the Yellow Jackets, he won the National Championship in 1990 and the Bobby Dodd Coach of the Year award.

Yet when Army approached him in 2004, Ross had been retired for four years and hadn’t headed a collegiate program in 13.

In many ways, his decision to leave retirement to coach at Army seemed more an act of pity than confidence in the program’s resurgence.

This attitude would haunt the program’s most recent regime. He seemed exhausted before his first season began at West Point.

Still, it was Bobby Ross.

The Bobby Ross who had taken Georgia Tech from a 2-9 record in his first season to a National Championship in his fourth; the one who went on to lead the San Diego Chargers to the Super Bowl in 1995. Certainly, he could turn the program at Army around.

But despite making some slow progress, Ross could not get the program on the right track. Initially, he too shrugged off any notion of reinstating the triple-option (though in his third season, he added an I-formation-based triple option to the playbook).

His teams struggled mightily on offense: relying on a tough but vanilla running game and a primitive passing scheme in Ross’ “balanced” attack.

The defense on the other hand, made steady albeit marginal improvement under experienced defensive coordinator John Mumford.

Still, it wasn’t enough to compensate for the team’s poor offensive showings. After three losing seasons, Ross retired due to exhaustion in January 2007 with a record of only 9-25.

It was the timing of Ross’ departure that perhaps most influenced the hiring of Army’s next head coach. In the midst of recruiting season, Athletic Director Kevin Anderson quickly appointed Ross’ offensive line coach, Stan Brock, to lead the team.

Brock never stood a chance.

When Brock was selected as the head coach at Army, he had a grand total of three years of collegiate coaching experience, having served all of it under his mentor Bobby Ross.

Like the three Heisman Trophies that are displayed in Army’s stellar athletic center, his prolific 15-year NFL playing career was perhaps more symbolic than relevant in guiding the undersized squad of overachievers to success on the football field.

Sure. His experience with Ross’ system and the few years at the Academy were valuable. And he was no doubt a very effective and likeable offensive line coach.

But for anyone to coach at Army (one of the most difficult coaching jobs in all of college football), it requires an extraordinary blend of experience and creativity.

Unfortunately for Brock, he lacked the former and couldn’t develop the latter.

His teams fell victim to the ultra-conservative mindset that was born in the Todd Berry years and institutionalized under Bobby Ross. It was as if each coach resolved themselves to what their players couldn’t do on the football field.

They tried, each in their own way, to avoid anything unique or risky for fear of the daunting athleticism of their opponents.

They played it safe, relying on what they called “fundamentals” to disguise their lack of faith in their own teams’ ability to compete.

And in doing so, they were defeated before their teams stepped foot on the field.

Brocks’ open-mindedness in bringing back the triple-option spoke volumes about the coach’s willingness to adapt.

Yet the “Brock-bone,” as ESPN commentator Shaun King anointed it, soon became a manifestation of the mentality described above. It was safe, non-dynamic, and ineffective.

One CBS commentator revealed during this year’s disastrous Army-Navy game that Brock admitted to spending only about “eight minutes” on the passing game in practice.

And it showed.

We’ll never know whether Brock would have been able to improve his system. The problems with the scheme went far beyond the athletic limitations of his players as some suggest.

Yes. Speedier halfbacks would have been wonderful. But it doesn’t matter if they never get the ball.

A quicker quarterback with a better knack for the option would have been fantastic. But it’s irrelevant if he can’t make the right reads.

A bigger, faster, stronger offensive line would be great. But even the best O-line would have problems beating nine defenders in the box, especially when you can’t stretch the field vertically with a passing game.

Army’s football players were often outplayed athletically this year, but the team was more often outcoached.

And that’s unfortunate.

From all the sources I’ve seen, Stan Brock is a good coach, and a better man. His demeanor and compassion for the Corps of Cadets and his players will undoubtedly be his greatest legacy.

When most would have passed on the job of coaching at West Point, he took it. When others would have simply spoken of the challenges his players faced every day, he volunteered to experience it himself.

He is an example of everything Army fans might have wanted in a coach except for one thing:

He couldn’t stop Army’s sad sojourn down the road it began all those years ago in Philadelphia.

Like those who have recently come before him, his teams played not to lose. And in doing so, his tenure failed to reflect the essence of West Point and everything captured in that simple phrase spoken by MacArthur and reiterated by West Point’s Superintendent, Lt. Gen. Hagenbeck:

“There is no substitute for victory.”

Army’s next coach must build a team that reflects that sentiment. Alums and fans don’t expect the team to win every game. They just want the team to play like they can.

And as the Academy considers its coaching options with great care, they must look beyond the sum of any coach’s Super Bowl appearances, National Championships, miracle seasons, or pure nostalgia.

There are a number of good candidates in the running, including: the earlier mentioned Bob Sutton; his former assistant and current Kansas University offensive coordinator, Ed Warinner; former Army defensive back and New York Giants wide-receiver coach Mike Sullivan; Navy offensive coordinator and Paul Johnson disciple, Ivin Johnson; South Florida offensive coordinator, Greg Gregory; and Wake Forest’s offensive coordinator and former Air force lineman Steed (Lobo) Lobotzke.

I disagree with those who argue that candidate must have a strong academy background to be viable. Paul Johnson’s exemplary career at Navy supports my theory.

Instead, the best candidate is one who can assess the program’s strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats (yes business methods work for football too), and creatively devise the team’s systems around them.

Todd Berry and Bobby Ross came to the Academy with the idea that their systems could work anywhere, and in doing so they were shocked to find that they couldn’t.

Additionally, the candidate must be one willing to take bold action.

No. I’m not talking about going for it on fourth-and-five on your own 33-yard line. I’m talking about someone who isn’t afraid of trying new concepts in recruiting, such as leveraging Army’s nation-wide following to train and build a network of state and local recruiters.

Or by building an offensive scheme that might be a bit different than what they’re used to.

Or having the gumption to demand excellence from players from whom society already demands so much.

For these very players have each chosen to become cadets, warriors, and leaders because they believe in what they can accomplish.

They want a coach that believes the same.

Black Night for the Black Knights: Army's Poor Debut Reveals Key to Success

Todd — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 22:12:35 -0400

Whether or not you think Army is still relevant in college football today, one thing is for certain: West Point is still one of the best sporting venues in the country. Pregame on the Hudson remains a combination of pride, patriotism, and sheer mania as cadets, fans, and a general officer or two come together for some of the best traditions in college football.

Cannon blasts, military parades, skydivers, helicopters, American flags, and a sea of uniformed servicemen and women speckled with zany costumes greet fans and foes alike.

Combine all of that with the hope of a new season and the return of the much-anticipated option offense, and the excitement surrounding last Friday’s game against Temple was palpable. Yet the game that followed the festivities on Aug. 29 was anticlimactic, as the visiting Owls routed the Black Knights of the Hudson by a score of 35-7 in what was clearly a disappointing showing for the home team.

Perhaps most frustratingly, Army seemed to beat themselves with atrocious special teams play and a mistake-prone offense that was ineffectual at best.

What about that so-called “new option offense”? A unique combination of the flex-bone, traditional wishbone, and the spread offense, the Hudson Valley Express couldn’t get the train on the right track early in its debut.

Third year starting quarterback Carson Williams didn’t look comfortable and often had trouble making reads, which led to missed opportunities and an occasional fumble (one of which was returned by Temple for a touchdown).

Fullback Collin Mooney displayed the toughness and tenacity we have come to expect from a West Point fullback. The senior bruiser was the workhorse last week with 26 carries for 81 yards, mainly because of the offense’s inability to get the ball to the outside and into the hands of talented running backs Patrick Mealy and Tony Dace.

The passing game was similarly impotent, as Williams couldn’t find the open receivers underneath and forced passes upfield (one of which led to an interception).

Poor quarterback reads and bad exchanges aside, second year head coach Stan Brock is probably more disturbed by the subpar blocking of his charges. The offensive tackles were constantly jammed on their all-important releases to linebacker row. This was in part responsible for Williams’ miscues, as he couldn’t adequately determine if the jamming end was cracking down on the fullback or keeping contain on the quarterback.

Probably less obvious was the lack of blocking by Army’s halfbacks. In a scheme known for its devastating cut blocks by runners that are half-men/half-ballistic missiles, Army’s tandem seemed lost trying to decide who to block and often didn’t find anyone at all, which contributed to a lackluster outside running game.

As insufficient as the offense seemed last Friday, it still offers hope for a team that hasn’t crossed the .500 mark since 1996. Brock and his staff were wise to turn back to the option during the offseason.

Former coach Todd Berry’s decision to trade in the triple-option for a one-back spread offense proved disastrous, and Bobby Ross’ balanced, pro-style attack only showed marginal improvement. Brock’s scheme displays the uniqueness and creativity that may, in time, turn the Black Knights into a perennial winner.

But no scheme can replace sound fundamentals. To so many West Point fans, last Friday’s defeat looked awfully similar to last season—and the year before that, and the year before that.

It was the same turnovers that plagued Todd Berry’s reign. The same play-not-to-lose conservatism we saw under Bobby Ross, and the same promise of a team on the brink with renewed confidence and preparedness to win.

That promise fell short.

It was on a Carlos Santiago muffed punt in the first quarter of last Friday’s game against Temple that I heard that all-too-familiar phrase, “Here we go again,” echo in my head like those pre-game cannon blasts. But as I looked at players, coaches and other fans, I knew.

I knew they were thinking the same thing.

It was validated in the Black Knight’s performance. Miscues, conservative play calling, and the gradually emptying seats confirmed, in my mind, the real problem with Army football.

This team and those who support it feel that the Black Knights have to be perfect to win.

It’s like a mistake is a death sentence to the Black Knights, a condemnation of the team’s imperfection—a glaring statement of the Black Knights' “lack of athleticism, size and speed.” Army football hasn’t had a winning season in 11 years because they don’t believe they can overcome.

Well, guess what, Black Knights. You aren’t perfect! But football, like war, is about overcoming adversity.

If Army is going to ever achieve a winning season, they’ve got to have enough confidence to know that they are going to make mistakes and can win in spite of them. Players, coaches, and fans need to believe not just in what the Black Knights stand for and represent—we must believe in what they can do.

We’ll get that chance tomorrow when Army hosts the University of New Hampshire. When the Black Knights make that inevitable mistake, let’s replace “Here we go again” with “Here we go, Army. Here we go!”

Go Army! Beat New Hampshire!