The Madden Curse is nothing new to NFL fans. It's been a fun conversation piece every time of year that the cover of the new Madden game is nearly announced. Fans playfully hope that their favorite player doesn't grace the cover for fear of injury or decreased production for the next season. I always figured this tradition was more out of fun, but this year, with the Lions' Calvin Johnson having a real chance of being the new cover boy, I've realized people are damn serious about this curse. In a poll at Pride Of Detroit, over two-thirds of Lions fans are voting AGAINST Megatron in hopes of avoiding the dreaded curse. In the comment section, people are being called idiots, wimps and, my personal favorite argument that seems to make it into any football debate ever: "not true fans".
Normally, I wouldn't get involved in petty debates, but when someone questions my fandom because I'm SUPPORTING a player on the team, I tend to get a little cranky. The last straw was when local sports anchor Tom Leyden posted this on twitter:
Now, it's easy to ignore the random internet commenters from trolling the internet, but when a respected media voice is provoking a large set of people, it's incredibly frustrating to the general discourse of sports. I'm not trying to call out Leyden -- I've followed him on twitter long enough to know he's not fully serious--but I bet every single one of the 32 people who retweeted him are extremely serious.
It is probably obvious by now, I don't believe in the curse. It was a fun little harmless thing to believe and participate in for awhile, but now that one of my favorite players is being harmed by its lore, it's time to put an end to the silliness.
One of the biggest flaws of the Madden Curse is that no one seems to agree what it "does" to the player. Does it cause him to get injured? Does it cause his production to go down? Does it hurt the entire team?
The most popular theory is that it causes injury. However, According to Football Outsiders, in 2010 the average teams' starters missed a total of 47 games. In other words, each starter in the entire NFL missed 2.14 games on average per season. The average amount of games a Madden Cover boy lost in his next season: 3.5, including five of 14 players who didn't miss a single game due to injury. The injury curse is hardly noticeable and extremely negligible given the small sample size.
When the injury theory fails, people will extend the Madden Curse to other ridiculous effects. Eddie George was cursed in 2000 because he caused a turnover in the playoffs. Forget the fact that George had his best year statistically with over 1500 yards and 14 TDs (both marks were never met again in George's career). OHHHH, but he was injured later in his career. Because most running backs last forever and never see their production decline nor do backs ever suffer any injuries. Sorry. No more sarcasm.
Ray Lewis was "cursed" in 2004. He broke his wrist and missed ONE game. That curse wasn't enough to appease believers, so most point to the fact that he failed to record an interception all season. Of course, that doesn't sound too bad when you consider Lewis is only averaging 2 INTs per season. Also ignored is the fact that Lewis recorded 146 tackles that year, a total Lewis has failed to match since.
Drew Brees had another Pro Bowl season when he was cursed. Larry Fitzgerald recorded the most TDs in his career the season he graced the cover. But because both teams disappointed in the playoffs, the curse lived on.
Believers will continue to believe, and that's fine. I'm not here to convert you or call you an idiot for believing. It's fun to believe in such curses. It's comforting to think the world isn't random and there's a certain set of rules that govern what will happen next. But please don't question someone's devotion to a team because they see a series of events differently from you. We're all Lions fans, curse-believers or not.
The exterior of Yost Ice Arena can only be described as ancient. Originally built almost 90 years ago as a field house, the arena resembles an old-timey factory building: the crimson bricks, the endless line of long, rounded windows, the protruding chimney. But what I remember so vividly, four years removed from stepping foot in the arena, is grasping the cold iron handles, swinging open the heavy wooden doors of the side entrance and being immediately greeted by the cool breeze of ice, followed soon after by the sweet aroma of candied almonds.
As a kid, I never went to ice hockey practice, nor did I ever properly learn how to ice skate. Had I ever had the experience of waking up a the crack of dawn and stepping into the local ice arena, I imagine it would be strikingly similar to the feeling of entering the hallways of Yost. Take away the swarms of maize and blue sweatered crowds and you're left with a relatively simple interior: A rectangular building with fairly wide hallways speckled with decorated columns along the way. The outskirts of the hallways aren't littered with endless counts of merchandise and concession stands. Instead, you'll find long sections of hallways marked only by Yost's trademarked red brick occasionally interrupted by a display case or two. But Yost's endearing infrastructure is only small part of the equation that makes the gameday experience of a University of Michigan Men's Hockey game not only superior to that of their football program, but one of the best home sporting experiences in the country.
To be clear, I am a football fan first. If the name "Detroit OnLion" isn't evidence enough, I also was a Lions season ticket holder for over 10 years. My passion for college football is almost as strong. I am much more committed to Michigan's football program than their hockey program (this is made infinitely easier by television). But give me the option of going to a football game at the historic Big House or spend a Saturday night watching the hockey team, and I will gladly don my Michigan sweater and head to Yost.
One of the most impressive things about Yost is the intimate feeling of the arena. There is no bad seat in the house. Yost's seating chart only has 21 sections and each section has no more than 25 rows. And, unlike football tickets, if you choose to get season tickets, you are pretty much guaranteed to have a great view of the game. As a four-year football season ticket holder, I never got below row 60 in the corner of the stadium. My first year as a hockey season ticket holder (sophomore year), I was row 10, directly on the away blue line. No upper deck for seating for students. You can literally feel the chill of the ice beneath you. And the entire student section is on the bench side of the ice, meaning no opposing team was safe.
The intimacy of the seating made for an unmatchable game-day experience. Not only are fans treated to a great view of the game, but they are so close that they are actually part of the game. Let me explain. One popular thing among fans is to yell at the refs to check the net when they first take the ice. The idea is that the fans are ordering the refs around, even though the refs are mandated to check the net anyways. Once the ref complies, the student section goes nuts. On several occasions, the refs would tease the crowd into thinking he was about the check the refs resulting in a collective "BOOOOO" from the fans followed by a relieved cheer after the ref finally complied. Lately, this tradition has been taken a step further. Now candy is placed in the netting before the game and when the ref checks the net, not only does he find the candy, but he throws it in the crowd. The playful relationship between the fans and the referees is unheard of and 100% awesome.
In fact, one evening my roommate decided to take his heckling of his favorite (or maybe least favorite) ref to a new level. Once the linesman took the ice, he started shouting "SHEEEEEGOS! PICK YOUR NOSE!" I'll be damned if moments later, Sheegos wasn't playfully sticking his index finger in his left nostral. As a reward for his compliance, next Halloween my roommate dressed as a fellow referee (known only as "Porno Mustache" to the Yost crow). Point being: you're close enough to the action that they can hear you and will occasionally react to you.
Yes, that is me as Prince. No I do not still have that jacket,
and I definitely don't wear it every morning in front of the mirror with no pants on.
When the Yost fans aren't heckling refs, they're getting zamboni kids to dust dirt of their shoulders or harassing the opposing teams' family. Which brings me to one of the best part of the Yost experience: the chants. I've never been a part of so many different, creative chants than I have at Yost (the least of which is the infamous C-YA chant). My favorites being the different variations of the "Warm up the bus" chant. ("warm up the tractor" for MSU, "warm up the sled" for Alaska-Fairbanks). But it was more than chants. Being a part of the Yost crowd was almost like being part of a Maury audience. Each fan was trying to out-wit the other by yelling something clever out at the quietest moment in the game. A successful attempt would result in uproarious laughter, while a miscue would result in a shaming, but deafening silence. All part of the fun.
Then there's the dancing, perhaps Yost's greatest tradition. My sophomore year, the dancing tradition was simple: Once a Michigan victory was all but assured, the band would crank out "Can't Turn You Loose" (the Blues Brothers theme) and the conductor would jirate wildly, sending everyone in a frenzy. However, after getting some terrible PR over the aforementioned "C-YA" chant, the powers that be deemed that this tradition was too unprofessional. Yost's reaction was, at first, denial. They would start yelling for the band to dance, and then boo when their demands were not met. Then they would just chant "Dance!" to no one in particular and everyone would look around hoping that someone would step up to the plate. More often than not, no one did, or someone tried for a few seconds until they got too embarrassed and sat back down in defeat. But the fans would not be denied. Instead, the dancing tradition was handed off to a superfan known only as "Water Buffalo" (seen here doing his trademarked dance). But in the true Michigan spirit, the tradition continued to adapt and improve. Soon, there were dueling dancers. Then, something amazing happened: the father of a Michigan Defenseman Jack Johnson (or JMFJ as fans endearingly call him) joined in and became dancing king of Yost. Here he is dance-battling Water Buffalo:
While his dance moves may have been lacking, his ability to rev up the crowd every second intermission was not. After Jack Johnson headed to the NHL (and was cruelly traded to Columbus), the dance tradition had to evolve again. And as Yost always does, they met the challenge. Now the dance tradition has developed into a full-on choreographed student section dance-a-palooza. Perhaps the best part of this new tradition is that it is clearly influenced by Mr. Johnson's dance moves (a move in which I will call the "double train-conductor"). The dancing tradition is a perfect example of the innovation and enthusiasm that Yost has to offer that is unmatched anywhere else.
Football games have their own traditions and chants. But with a student section hovering around 20,000 fans, creativity and innovation have given way to LOUD NOISES and swear words. Whether it was the recent addition of "you suck" to "Temptation" or the fun, but overdone, "Seven Nation Army" chant, the energy in Michigan Stadium is much more frat party than it is devoted fanatics. The feeling at a Michigan football game is that every drunk student off the street piled into one corner of the stadium. And while that's a win for attendance records and noise levels, it's a loss for creativity, intelligence, and fun.
Where football is hindered by its excessive inclusiveness, hockey excels because of its exclusivity. When you step into the halls of Yost, you are not just attending a hockey game, you are joining a cult. You are witnessing a secret society known only to few. While football is an all-but-mandatory experience for a Michigan student, attending Yost gets you inside one of Ann Arbor's best kept secrets.
It means being one of the few who knows why there's a huge, homemade Swedish flag in the student section, or knowing who "Bork" is, or understanding why screeching "Yip" in a high-pitched voice is hilarious. It's training your ear to catch the occasional faint ringing of a phone somewhere in the building. It's knowing what comes after "you're not a sieve, you're a funnel...". It's hoping that after thanking the PA announcer for telling us there is only one minute left in the period that he will announce "YOU'RE WELLLLLLCOME!" It's reminding the opposing goalie every time he takes his mask off that he is, in fact, ugly, and cheering him when he puts the mask back on.
And then there's the actual...you know...game. While it is easily apparent that the players don't possess the talent of their NHL counterparts, it is equally obvious that these athletes play with a physical abandonment that is hard to find in any sport in these wuss-ifying times. The hits seem harder, the rivals: more hated. And where the NHL suffers in the name of being more "professional", college athletes have no problem wearing their emotions on their sleeves. And don't get me wrong, the Michigan hockey team has a history of great talent. There are currently 17 players in the NHL who spent their collegiate years at Yost, and Michigan has made 21 straight NCAA tournaments, the most by any team ever. The actual product of college hockey is more than enough to satisfy any hockey "purist".
While Yost cannot boast the history and fame of Michigan Stadium, it has more passion per square inch than any sports venue I've ever attended, and it will always remain that secret rendezvous for the pure sports fan in me.
[Michigan plays Notre Dame at Yost in the second round of the CCHA tournament on Friday and Saturday (possibly Sunday, too). If you're a sports fan and near Ann Arbor, grab your Yost guide and get yourself a ticket. You won't regret it]
Those words have become the trademarked slogan when describing the faith Lions fans have in general manager Martin Mayhew. In his three years at that position with the Lions, Mayhew has certainly earned all of the praise he is receiving. He has managed to turn a roster full of the Ernie Sims of the world into a depth chart chock-full of NFL-worthy talent. Mayhew deserves full credit for the Lions' first run into the postseason in over a decade.
But Mayhew had help along the way. In his three years drafting, he had eight picks in the first two rounds (granted, he earned those extra picks by swinging excellent trades, including his career-defining mugging of the Cowboys in the Roy Williams trade). Mayhew also had the fortune of having the best wide receiver in the league already on his roster. Finally, the previous GM (his name must go unmentioned) didn't exactly set the bar too high. Mayhew had nowhere to go but up.
But don't let that take away from the job he has done. Mayhew made the, at-the-time, unpopular decision of drafting Matthew Stafford in the face of a perceived stud linebacker. He also hired a coaching staff who seem to have meshed perfectly with management. And Mayhew continues to make trades that have opposing fanbases scratching their heads in perplexity.
That was all the easy part.
Mayhew no longer has the benefits of low expectations, high draft picks and easily replaceable players. The Lions are expected to not only make the playoffs next year, but to even make a Super Bowl run .The Lions will be picking 23rd overall, their lowest place on the draft board since 1993. And now Mayhew faces his biggest offseason challenge: with four starters (and additional, valuable backups) facing free agency and only an estimated two million dollars of cap room left, Mayhew must tinker with contracts and franchise tags to keep the Lions roster intact.
The Lions have nearly all of the puzzle pieces needed to make a playoff run, but it is getting harder and harder to make those puzzle pieces fit together. At the forefront of this conundrum is Cliff Avril. Avril is coming off his best professional season and many believe he wants to be paid as a top defensive end in the league. Since the Lions have limited cap space, fans are reacting the way anyone does when something they love is threatened to be taken away: widespread panic. Some decide the best coping mechanism for panic is denial: claim that Avril was never that good and the Lions are better without that greedy cap-hog. Others believe the Lions aren't that committed to Avril and will just franchise him.
But lets examine this Avril situation a little closer. First, lets be clear, the Lions are 100% committed to bringing Avril back. Mayhew has said so, Jim Schwartz has said so. When someone as quiet as Mayhew comes out and says forgoing a long-term contract and having to use the franchise tag is almost as bad as losing Avril to free agency, you know that he means business when re-signing Avril.
And then there's the "Avril is selfish" crowd. All of this newly-found hatred towards Avril is sprouted from his comments stating that he may hold out if the Lions decide to franchise him. Now whether Avril is being truthful with this statement or is merely making a negotiating tactic has yet to be seen. But, regardless, Cliff's position is the right one for him. The Lions were relying on him to step up huge last year and Avril did his job. Franchising Avril to a one-year deal after all that Cliff gave them last year would be an insult and a financial disaster for him. For all the sacks, the forced fumbles, the two interceptions they would be locking him up for only one year? You can call Avril's statement selfish, but in a league that can cut a player or pressure them to restructure their contracts at any moment, players must look out for numero uno. A player's career can be over in a flash, so they must lock up their financial future when they can. For Cliff Avril, that time is now.
So the Lions don't want to franchise Avril, and Avril doesn't want to be franchised. Good news, right? Well, mostly. The issue then becomes a matter of locking down a long-term deal that fits within the Lions' limited cap room. And the solution to this problem is not an easy one. But Mayhew appears ready to begin phase one of ensuring Avril is a Lions. This weekend, Mayhew will begin talks with Calvin Johnson's agent in order to simultaneously create more cap room and wrap up Megatron long-term (whose current contract expires after next season).
Mayhew has been successful in the past in restructuring contracts in order to save space for other players. Last year, Matthew Stafford restructured his contract, opening up an estimated six million dollars in cap space. In 2009, Mayhew got Daunte Culpepper to restructure his contract, paving room for the monster contract that Stafford would sign months later when the Lions drafted him. This year, the challenge is more difficult with even less cap space and Avril's presumably giant contract looming.
Mayhew has done an incredible job as the Lions GM for his first three years. But it's not how you start a job that matters, it's how you finish it. Mayhew must face his most difficult offseason this year, but if he can continue working his cap magic and make intelligent draft picks, his legacy will continue.
On Sunday, two teams were crowned Conference Champions. Their tickets to Indianapolis were punched. Their fanbases were sent into a frenzy. A great "rematch" storyline was created. And both games were decided in the final moments. It was an amazing day for football. But I hated it.
Let me begin by stating that I had absolutely no rooting interest in either game. In fact, I didn't particularly like any of the four teams playing. My disdain for both games has nothing to do with the emerging winners. Rather, as a diehard football fan myself, I couldn't help but feel sick for the losing teams and the manner in which they lost.
As you probably know, both conference championship games were basically lost on two gut-wrenching plays. The Ravens lost their chance at overtime when their kicker, Billy Cundiff, hooked a 32-yard field goal wide. The 49ers season ended after their punt-returned, Kyle Williams, turned the ball over for the second time in the game, giving the Giants a chip-shot, game-winning field goal. Two prominent goats. Two players who will have to live with these agonizing moments for the rest of their lives. Two athletes whose reputations may have been written and permanently sealed for the rest of their careers.
And the humiliation of these two players doesn't end with google and youtube searches. Williams has to deal with classless fans on twitter (although a search of @KyleWilliams_10 tweets comes up pleasantly positive this morning). Cundiff has to live with the misery of having that kick be synonymous with his name. As a kicker, your chances at being a hero are incredibly low, and your ability to change your legacy after a blunder like that is extremely limited.
All this leaves the other players on the losing team in an awkward position. Both the Ravens and the Niners played well enough to make it to the Super Bowl, but fate had other plans. So where do you channel all of the hate, anger and shock of the past 24 hours? It's easy to point the blame at the sacrificial lamb of the game, but throwing a teammate under the bus is a despicable act that will get you thrashed by fellow NFL players (just ask anonymous Jets player). For the most part, players are very good at swallowing these tendencies, and they typically say the right things. But you can imagine what some of these players are screaming to themselves when no one is around. How could you not be mad at Cundiff as a Ravens player? How can Niners players not be thinking to themselves how different it would've been if Ted Ginn wasn't injured? How do you think Ginn is feeling right now? I couldn't stop thinking of all the torment that the ending of these two games created, and it ruined both games for me.
And what about the fans? For the first time in twelve years, I felt the stinging pain of a post-season loss. I felt the pit at the bottom of my stomach. I felt the shock of the sudden, bitter ending to the Lions' season. I felt the putrid realization that four months of only draft talk laid ahead. But I can't even begin to imagine what Raven and Niner fans are going through this Monday morning.
Deadspin posted this video earlier this morning of a clearly distraught Ravens fan (NSFW language).
I was there when Michigan lost to Appalachian State. And every bandwagon fan that carelessly shook off the loss and walked out of the stadium with a smile was in serious danger of my nearly unrestrainable rage. When the Lions went 0-16, I fantasized of doing unspeakable things to every Lions fan who thought that it was "a good thing". There is nothing in the world more frustrating than having everything taken from you only to find yourself in a room full of people who don't have the ability to empathize with you.
I guess that's why I wrote this. Baltimore fans, San Francisco fans. Billy Cundiff, Kyle Williams. Ravens and 49ers. I'm sorry. You suffered from unspeakable losses yesterday, and the pain won't ever fully go away. It sucks and is going to continue to suck. Watching the Super Bowl in two weeks will sting beyond belief. But we've all been there. They call us "die-hards" for a reason, and today you have my full empathy.
Finally, the moment I've all been waiting for (maybe you've been waiting for it, too): The Top 10! These are the moments that helped define this magical season. Many of these plays are moments I'll likely never forget. This entire season is one I won't soon forget, not just for the moments in this countdown, but for the strides this team made in such a small amount of time. This was easily my favorite season of Detroit Lions football in my young life, and the last thing I will do is take it for granted. We all know what it feels like to be on the other side. And that's why I made this countdown: so we could bask in the glory of having a good team for a little longer. Okay, sorry, enough jibber-jabber, onto the list...
10. Calvin breaks free on Monday Night Football.
The stage was set. The crowd was pumping. The hype-machine was in full overdrive. But the Lions struggled to match the intensity out of the gate. After a scoreless first quarter, the defense made a great defensive stand, setting up a moment that would propel the Ford Field and the Lions into a frenzy. Of course it was a beautiful pass by Stafford and a great catch-and-run by Johnson that broke the game open.
9. DeAndre Levy saves the Lions season on the last play against the Vikings.
It was all slipping away. The game, the hope, the season were all slowly eroding away at the hands of Joe Webb. The moment before this play was the lowest I've felt as a Lions fan since 0-16. All the promise, all the talk of turning the page, rounding the corner, everything was about to fall apart and we'd be left with what we're all too used to: hope being devoured by disappointment. But Levy wasn't having any of that. As long as the Lions still led on the scoreboard, and the Vikings still had a yard to go, the game and season, weren't over. Many will talk about the missed facemask on this play, but lost in all of that talk was how well the defense played on this snap. The facemask, while obviously illegal, had no bearing on the outcome of the play. The receivers were well covered, the playcall was perfect, and Levy made a huge play.
Just typing those words gives me chills. As you probably know, I was at this game, in the Black Hole, at the endzone in which this touchdown was scored. Months of anxiety for my safety at this game came to a head at this moment. But I didn't feel any of it. All I felt was pure euphoria. My brethren and I were so manic at this moment we couldn't hear the deafening silence around us, nor could we see all of the unwanted attention we were likely drawing. As a Lions fan, I have never experienced this sort of high. (play at 7:20 mark)
7. Megatron's over-the-shoulder grab puts the Lions in field goal range for the game winning score in overtime.
The great comeback in Minnesota would have all been for nought if the Lions couldn't pull the game out in overtime. When you need a play, ask Calvin and he shall receive. What outstanding concentration and hand-eye coordination. (play at 2:47 mark)
6. Jahvid Best breaks free for 88-yards on a national stage.
The Lions were clinging onto a small lead and having trouble breaking free of the Bears' grasp, despite solid defensive play and a roaring crowd. Then this happened. With this play, Best not only wrote his name in the Lions record books (2nd longest run in franchise history), but he gave the Lions the two-score lead that they needed to win the game. Up until this moment, Best's big-play ability was purely a theory for the 2011 season. But afterwards, we all knew how dangerous he can be when healthy. Just look at that speed.
5. Need a game-winning touchdown against the Cowboys? May I suggest a little Megatron?
Another SPOILER ALERT, this game has four (yes, four) plays in the top five. It would seem pretty strange to have the game-winning score ranked the lowest on the list of the four plays, but it will all make sense in a few paragraphs. This play was both the decisive score in the game and an impressive display of the physicality of Calvin Johnson. But the Lions made it look incredibly easy. (play at 12:00 mark)
4. Bobby Carpenter lights the comeback fuse.
The Cowboys game wouldn't have been the amazing game that it was without Carpenter's impressive pick six of Tony Romo early in the third quarter. With everything going the Cowboys way through the first half, it seemed like the Lions were in for a rough letdown and their first loss of the season. Carpenter's interception showed great coverage skills, amazing hands, and even impressive vision as a runner. Though the comeback was anything but certain after the play, the crack in the Cowboy's armor had been made. (play at 0:50 mark)
3. Chris Houston to Bobby Carpenter: "Anything you can do, I can do better."
The comeback still seemed unlikely after the Carpenter INT, but when Houston one-upped Carpenter, it was more than a possibility, it almost seemed certain. Houston's pick got the nod over the Carpenter play for a couple reasons. One, Houston manages to pull this ball in with one hand and a receiver all over him. Also, Houston is somehow able to escape the receiver and take it to the house. While Bobby's pick was the one to start the comeback, Houston's was the one who made it seem really possible. (play at 1:13 mark)
2. Cliff Avril reads, elevates and picks off Philip Rivers.
The game was already over. The champagne had already been popped. The Lions were already in the playoffs. In fact, I was so lost in my thoughts at the time that I hadn't even seen this play happen live. But when I saw the replay, I saw a man...nay...a monster reach for the heavens, snatch the ball with his one, gargantuan hand, glide into the endzone and emphatically stamp "PLAYOFFS" into the history books of the 2011 season. Amazing awareness and athleticism from Avril (and alliteration from me). (play at 12:53 mark)
1. Megatron defeats three intercepticons.
I don't need to justify this. Watch. Then watch again. Then again. Then again.
Alright, let me have it. Where did I screw or? What did I forget? What was your favorite moment?
