I
have four children. I love
them all very much. Of this quartet, only two are concerned with the early
start of school. The youngest, my idiot son
Floyd, is big as an ox, gentle as a lamb, and stupid as a stone. My boy is far
too learning-impaired to educate. This is okay; Floyd’s a dog. My eldest
daughter, the vicious, cigar-chomping Roxanne aka Roxy, would, without
doubt, be in reform school now, just beginning her life of incarceration within
our penal system. Roxy, born under the unsettled sign of Scorpio, is a bright
girl who clearly has not gotten in touch with her inner puppy. She exhibits a
lifelong, disturbing propensity towards psychotic, mindless violence. People
would remark how a girl with such a shiny fur coat could be so mean. Roxy is
also a dog. Both are boxers, to be precise. They don’t know the school year is
supposed to signal the start of fall. They don’t care summer means school is,
thank god, over. As I said, they’re dogs.
My two human children, however, are bothered – as am I, their father – by the
vagrancies of the premature school year. My eldest, The Boy, missed the first
three days of school. He was still in summer camp, his parents ignorant of his
costly education starting a few days after July 4th. My human daughter is, by
far, the most even-tempered, cheerful person in our odd family. I’m certain,
one day in the future, she’ll tell her therapist how she always had to be the
“good child.” For now, she’s happy as a clam to be able to ride her bike to
school.
It’s too early for school
and it’s too damn early for football. These things are supposed to remind a
person autumn is just around the corner. But it’s not. It’s not even close. My
clearest football thought and action was a conscious decision not to go, for
the first time, to the plebeian spectacle at St. Edwards University. Why
anybody in their right mind would spend hours on that solar blast field
watching football practice is beyond me, but we’re talking Cowboy fans here,
so, enough said. I simply refuse to add a single unnecessary sentence to the
gazillion words of arcane Cowboyana, as it were, already recorded. I’d sooner
visit Dante’s Hell than have that job.
Anyway, I have a task, so let’s start my third annual fall pro-football
preview in the NFC West, home of the World Champion – oooh that feels
sweet – 49ers… Good news/bad news for those who root against the 49ers. The
good: San Francisco will be an 8-8 team or worse within three years. The
bad: 8-8 would win this weakest of pro football’s divisions.
San Francisco: All teams need luck. Luck evens out over time.
Great organizations recognize good fortune and put it to good use. Would Jerry
Rice, for example, be Jerry Rice had he played in Houston? Finding Joe Montana
late in the third round of the ’79 draft was pure luck. Picking up Steve Young
from horrid Tampa Bay in ’84 was smart; his development to a superstar was good
luck. You heard it here first. This team is on the downhill slide to average.
Montana is long gone. Young is 34, Rice and Taylor are both ancient by NFL
standards.
Atlanta: Falcons were the best 7-9 team ever to be, well, 7-9.
They held 12, yeah I said 12, fourth-quarter leads last year, only to, somehow,
lose nine games. Offense scored only 43 fewer points than 49ers. QB, Jeff
George, finally developed. Bobby Hebert, a good backup. Receivers are first
rate. Guess where the problems are? Five of the Falcons first six draft picks
went to defense. Atlanta is the sleeper, (I say that every year) of the
league.
Saints: Saints also were 7-9, but they really are 7-9 and they’ll
be 7-9 again this year because they suck. Saints made the playoffs, 1990-93,
playing stifling defense and safe, boring offense. The defense wore out. Now,
they have nothing left.
Carolina: Panthers, in their first NFL season, will not be that
bad. Wisely, they passed on the NFL garage sale of dogs in the expansion draft
(“Bad players with bad attitudes and big contracts,” said one pundit) and
instead splurged in the free agent market. UT rookie Blake Brockermeyer should
start, protecting old Frank Reich and rookie Kerry Collins who’ll provide
Carolina better quarterbacking. Still, with ex-Oiler/underachiever Lamar Lathon
anchoring the D, Carolina will be lucky to win five games. That will be more
than the…
Rams: Do you know this once-proud franchise has won fewer games
in the Nineties – 23 to be exact – than any other team in the league? Rams have
absolutely nothing. Zero. Zip. Zilch. A dizzy, concussion-battered QB, no
running backs, no receivers, no defense. I have friends in St. Louis, which
basically sold the city to “lure” this dreck from L.A., who are season ticket
holders. Georgia Frontiere’s team, the league’s worst owner (yes, Houston,
way worse than Bud Adams), will make my pals yearn for the good old days
of the second-worst owner, Dollar Bill Bidwell. On the other hand, a city that
proudly promotes “Busch on Tap,” gets what it deserves. n
Write me: coach@auschron.com
This article appears in August 25 • 1995 and August 25 • 1995 (Cover).