Coach's Corner
By Andy "Coach" Cotton, Fri., Dec. 22, 1995
Since the Seventies, when athletes were freed -- for good or ill -- from the shackles restricting their ability to move from team to team, the debate has raged: The big fish will swallow the guppies in the open market where, in theory anyway, the teams with the most money (the biggest markets) would be able to buy the best athletes. The salary cap was created to address this issue. 1995 has clearly demonstrated team owners pay as much attention to the cap as Austin drivers do to stop signs. The unexpected and surprising fact is that big market teams dominating and destroying the meek and the lame doesn't seem to have any basis at all. In San Francisco, the 49ers, with two teams competing in a relatively small market, have dominated the landscape of pro football for longer than I can remember. The league created two new teams in sleepy Jacksonville and Charlotte. Businessmen paid $40 million dollars for these teams. Someone thinks they can succeed. The Oilers and Browns are leaving respectable markets for much smaller ones. This year's NBA final featured Houston vs. Orlando. Not exactly New York-Paris. Baseball has a long history of small-market teams competing quite successfully; St. Louis, Minnesota, Oakland, and Cleveland, to name only a few recent World Series participants. In fact, spending huge goobers of money has never proved to be a reliable gauge or guarantee of success in the world of sports. Ask the '95 Dolphins. In the end, the basics are true: Successful teams are -- with the notable exception of the megalomaniac up in Dallas -- well-run, staffed with professionals who understand their business and make wise, not flashy, decisions with their money.
It's been an odd, though not particularly stimulating, season in the NFL; the collapse of Miami (my Super Bowl selection), the rise from the dead of the Bills (the quintessential example of a successful small market team), the shocking slippage of the Cowboys. No one has called Bill Parcells a genius since the bizarre disappearance of the Patriots. What strikes me most though, is the lack of interesting games. Sure, Pittsburgh still plays Oakland. But you know what? It's not really Pittsburgh and Oakland anymore. It's just guys in the same colored uniforms -- impostors really -- mucking about. Sundays once held the promise for at least one sexy, violent encounter between talented, passionate rivals. Today, the scores may be close, but the games are boring, completely devoid of drama.
The unkindest criticism of athletes is that if they don't have a championship ring on their finger, they are somehow flawed. The year began with a class act, Steve Young, emerging from the shadow of Joe Montana to win a Super Bowl. This forced the ravenously perched media vultures to flee to another still-warm carcass. Look out, Charles Barkley.
How can a loyal fan exist in a fickle, deceitful climate, where not only are your favorite players likely to be playing for your most bitter rival next year, but your team can and will be moved at the whim of a cash-poor owner? This year has witnessed long-entrenched teams leaving Los Angeles, Cleveland, and Houston. Even original NFL charter members the Chicago Bears will likely be playing soon in Gary, Indiana... Gary, Indiana, for Christ's sake! My advice, though I never take it myself: If you insist on falling in love, you'd better protect your heart.
A couple of years ago, a reporter asked Bobby Knight about his point guard. Knight, being his normal obnoxious self, replied, "What's a point guard?" For about 95 years, since James Naismith invented the game in 1891, you had your guards, forwards, and centers. I can understand that. Then, getting hip in the age of techno-babble, we had the point guards, which so perplexed Knight. Soon to follow, off guards, small forwards, and power forwards. Still, I was there. Today's hoop-speak has "advanced" to something about "ones" and "twos" and "fours". This new coachspeak leaves me in the dust. I don't know what or who they're talking about -- an example of basketball coaches pretending they're NASA scientists. My vote for the most remarkable player in the NFL? The Chiefs' Marcus Allen. Playing a position, running back, where the average career span is about three years, Allen, still fast, productive, and tough, is in his 14th season.
Hey, thanks for all the nice things you say when you meet me and thanks for getting this far down in the column. Have a happy and healthy new year. May at least one-third of your wishes come to pass. See you next year. Write me: coach@auschron.com
