It's Not the Tryptophan, It's the Detroit Lions

Thanksgiving is a day of traditions: watching your high school alma-mater play their gridiron archrival, listening to Arlo Guthrie's “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree,” and, of course, gorging on as much turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie as possible. But like an annoying relative, there is one Thanksgiving tradition desperately worth avoiding—the Detroit Lions.

Beginning in 1934, and annually since 1945, the Lions have hosted a Thanksgiving Day game. And nearly every year since their last championship in 1957, Detroit has cranked out putrid football teams with assembly-line efficiency. To wit, the Lions haven’t had a winning season since 2000 and have entered the fourth Thursday in November a combined 31-72 this decade.

It’s telling that the Lions most memorable Turkey Day moment in the last dozen years occurred when referee Phil Luckett misheard the Steelers’ Jerome Bettis during a coin toss.

There are no good excuses for this failure. This isn’t Major League Baseball, where both New York teams and Boston can outspend small-market teams like Pittsburgh, Kansas City, and Milwaukee. Rather, the salary cap has democratized the NFL, allowing Green Bay, Wisconsin (population: 100,000) to compete on a par with New York, New York (pop: eight million).

No, the Lions are a punchline because owner William Clay Ford has driven the team off a cliff. Ford and his staff hired Matt Millen—last seen entering the Betty Ford Clinic to treat his addiction to drafting wide receivers—and kept him on the job too long.

Detroit has hired bad coaches, like Marty Mornhinweg, who once infamously elected to kick off after winning an overtime coin toss (What is it with the Lions and coin tosses?). Naturally, such bad management led to poor player selection—Mike Williams, Charles Rogers, Joey Harrington, etc.

Now some may argue that Detroit deserves a Thanksgiving game because “it’s been that way forever.” There is certainly something to be said for tradition, particularly one that dates back to a time when pro football was less popular than the college game.

But the sport has evolved and grown. Why, there was a time when leather helmets were the norm, forward passes were the exception, and the games were not televised. Most football fans would agree the sport is more enjoyable in its present state.

So here’s the proposal—spread the wealth to more consistent winners like Pittsburgh, New England, Indianapolis, Denver, New York (Giants), Green Bay, and Philadelphia. It’s the fair thing to do. The Cowboys, by the way, can keep their annual game because they have been a winning team more often than not and have a national following of lovers and haters.

This is not to suggest that Detroit can never host a Thanksgiving Day game again. The Lions can, but like the other teams in the league, they have to earn the national spotlight. And with Matthew Stafford under center, the Lions may be turning things around. They have won two games—baby steps—and will undoubtedly have another top-five pick in April’s draft to bolster production.

Until Detroit is legitimately competitive, however, the NFL needs to look elsewhere for Thanksgiving games—and considering the Lions' victory over the Browns Sunday, the league can rule out Cleveland.