Mel Gray and Barry Sanders Ruined The Lives of All Detroit Lions Fan

When most fans remember the Detroit Lions of the early 1990’s, one name comes to mind.  I say name because in order for an image of Barry Sanders to come to mind, one would need the memory of a high-speed video camera.  Sanders was unquestionably the most electrifying offense player of his era.  The scary thing for opponents was that he may not have been the most exciting player on his team. 

Melvin James Gray came to Detroit the same year as Sanders, 1989.  In their six years together, the pair combined for 10 Pro Bowl appearances.  Like the Hall of Fame running back, Gray was short (5’9”) and lacked breakaway, top end speed.  Together, the pair proved they did not need to be faster than the opponent going vertically of they could not catch them going horizontally.

As a 7-year-old Michigan native, it did not take much convincing to be drawn to a colorful (literally, not figuratively like the Dallas Cowboys) team with the two most exciting players in football.  Before I understood the concept of wins and losses, playoffs, and Pro Bowls, I understood excitement.  The Lions had it.

Every time Rodney Peete dropped back to pass, I was confused.  He could get sacked, or throw an interception, or worse, an incomplete pass (I’ll explain in a bit).  Sanders could not be tackled.  He got five yards every time he touched the ball.  Well, more accurately, he got -3 yards, -1 yard, and 19 yards, in succession.  Never-the-less, the law of averages suggested that a guaranteed first down was to be had (I was a gifted 7-year-old that understood averages.)

An incomplete pass meant that not only had Barry Sanders failed to touch the ball, but the “bad guys” would also be less likely to score on the next play, which would delay Gray’s entry onto the field. 

When the opposition had the ball, I rooted for them to kick-off.  I did not so much want them to score; I just wanted the Lions to not stop them.  Luckily it was 1992 and the Lions had the No. 20 scoring defense in football.  I got to watch Mel Gray a lot. 

The Lions followed up their most successful season of the modern era (1991’s 12—4 year, which included a playoff win!), with a Lion-like 5—11 year.  To me, it could just as easily been 401, the pairs combined touches, to zero, the combined other plays I cared about.

This naïve attitude didn’t last long and I soon learned the magnitude of wins and losses.  Gray’s departure to Houston after the 1994 season left me with my first bitter sports memory.  (note: Grant Hill plummeting to the third pick in the NBA draft would count, but I was too elated he would be joining my Pistons to care that the skill-less pair of nobodies, Glenn

Robinson and Jason Kidd, were taken ahead of him.  Also, Chris Webber's time-out occurred before I understood wins and losses.)

Still, even without Gray and without wins, Sanders kept me glued to the Honolulu blue enough to become an embarrassed a masochistic a proud Lions supporter.  Being a Lions fan means that 5—11 is a success, both on the football field and in the game of life.  I'm not sure that is a good thing.