One of the amazing things about this blog is meeting Lions fans from all over the world. Fans who can’t attend games, watch local TV, or listen to local radio can use the same Internet that everyone in southern Michigan can! Displaced Lions fans can follow all the news and analysis like they never left—and new fans from around the world can get up to speed like a local.
DirecTV is holding an Ultimate Displaced Fan contest. Entries can be an essay, photo, or (ideally) a video explaining why they are the ultimate displaced fan. There are some ridiculous prizes: a trip to the super bowl, a media tour with one of your favorite Lions, and a chance to play in the nationally-televised celebrity Beach Bowl.
I know this blog’s readership contains some ridiculously creative people. The last time I held a contest, I asked people to write about their greatest moment of Lions pride. Here’s the intro paragraph of the contest winner:
There I was, in the body of a Lions fan at 18,000 feet. Oil covered my windscreen -- my lifeless Merlin engine on fire. My canopy could not be budged - I was locked inside an aerial coffin. I watched, transfixed, as my altitude evaporated like rubbing alcohol in the noon-day sun. Paralyzed by fear and anxiety, suffocating under the weight of knowing I would be obliterated in a matter of moments when my stricken Spitfire met the hard, dusty surface of the Libyan desert below. The trim, sand-colored little Messerschmitt, my destroyer, spiraled away to celebrate his kill. A life snuffed out in a flash. A momentary blip on a radar screen only the gods will ever see. Oh, the humanity!
He eventually got around to the Lions thing.
Last year’s winner made a little tutorial video on how to win this thing, and I’d LOVE one of you to go out and win it. So, if you’re a huge Lions fan and you need at least a hotel and probably airfare to see a game in person, enter the Ultimate Displaced Fan contest—and win it for all of us.
What’s the opposite of a raving, team-color-bleeding homer who can’t ever go to the stadium? One guy who goes to all of the stadiums. Paul Swaney of StadiumJourney.com goes to—and reviews—basically every stadium in every sport. He recently attended the Chiefs game and reviewed Ford Field.
The review was fair and accurate, giving top marks for the food, and above-average ratings for everything else. The “fans” rating was especially intriguing:
It is certainly human nature for a fan base that has endured what Lions fans have endured to be down on their team. There is no doubt though, that a new aura of hope is almost tangible as you walk through Ford Field, and sit in the stands amongst the loyal supporters.
Fans don Lions jerseys more often than not, and they can get very, very loud when they want to. Still, this is a group that seems to responsive to the noise meter on the scoreboard than any instinctual reaction to the play on the field. The Lions still have trouble selling out many games. Again, this is understandable given the lack of success year after year.
It will be interesting to see if the Lions can begin to produce consistent winners with the young core of talent they have assembled. You can certainly feel the optimism in the air, but for now, this fan base seems so-so compared to many others.
Now if he'd come on Monday Night . . .
Honestly though, I think Paul was spot-on with the feeling and atmosphere. In my very first post, I called Ford Field a “hollow jewel” because of the lifeless, shrink-wrapped, sterile feel of the stadium. I don’t think that’s the case now—but remember that at the Chiefs game (when Paul attended), many still weren’t sure how “for real” this year’s Lions team was, so the quick Chiefs start sucked some of the life out of the building—and the sudden blowout flipped the switch to the other extreme: having a blast without necessarily paying rapt attention to the game. Still, Paul could sense what’s building within the fanbase:
Time will tell if the Lions can become contenders, and if they do, then this could easily become a raucous stadium to watch the NFL. Do yourself a favor and visit Ford Field in the near future. Better yet, sped your Thanksgiving at Ford Field, an NFL tradition going back to 1934 when the Lions moved from Portsmouth, Ohio to the Motor City.
So do yourself a favor and read the official Stadium Journey review of Ford Field. Many thanks to Paul for coming to Detroit and checking our team.
Excitement was building, quickly. Tension hung in the air. Some cheers, a burst of applause—then 28,205 people gasping in expectation as Jozy Altidore put it on net. Canadian goalie Lars Hirschfeld stumbled, and Ford Field exploded as the USMNT went up 1-0. Meanwhile, the other four people in attendance had just arrived, and were going up the escalator to the club level.
Yes, we were a little late. Fortunately, we caught the replay on the monitors:
The American Outlaws were in full voice as we took what we thought were our seats. We had an excellent view all by ourselves in the club level, relaxing in the gray leather-ish seats. With nobody else nearby, we got some great time just watching and dissecting the action.
It’s true that the crowd wasn’t quite up to anticipated levels. However, given the cost of the tickets (minimum with Ticketmaster fees was nearly $30; they ranged up into the triple digits), the total lack of TV/radio promotion (that I saw), and the fact that it was a late Tuesday night during the school year, it’s actually pretty impressive. In fact, the Ford Field crowd last was the largest to attend a Gold Cup group-stage match since 2003! A loud, excited soccer crowd 28k strong, with two vibrant supporter sections might not look impressive spread out over a 60,000-seat stadium . . .
. . . but they certainly sounded great. USMNT head coach Bob Bradley picked an excellent lineup, with a nice blend of youth and experience. Several players whose form had been in question looked fantastic in the first half—Altidore, for one, and midfielder Michael Bradley in particular. It’d be an exaggeration to say the US did to Canada what Spain did to the US this past weekend—but the US controlled the midfield, the ball, and the game for the first half, and much of the second.
My only criticism of the USMNT’s play was that it was almost too “beautiful.” Often, there’d be a sequence of linked passes dancing around the box, and several opportunities would open up—but while waiting for the perfect opening, they’d eventually miss a pass, or a defender would get a toe on the ball, and the whole possesion would go to waste. When the opposing keeper is struggling with routine shots, just shoot the ball on net!
At the half, we made the trek from section 214 to 241, our actual seats. There was a mix of excitement and trepidation; a 45-minute throttling is great, but coming away with a 1-0 lead left no margin for error. If the Yanks hadn’t picked up where they left off, all if it could have been for naught. Fortunately, when play resumed, the US offensive pressure continued.
A little way in, Clint Dempsey showed exactly why he’s my favorite player on the planet. As a deflected ball came across the middle, Clint tried a very rare “scorpion kick,” something so crazy that I didn’t know there was a name for it—and actually, neither did he:
People ask me why I got so hooked on soccer so fast, and it’s moments like this: pure physical creativity. Incredible feats that stretch the bounds of human reaction time, athleticism, and coordination. When it happened I looked over at my still-soccer-skeptical wife, like “Did you see . . . ?” and was already shooting me a sly grin while slowly nodding her head.
At full speed, it looked like the kick just missed—but look at the third replay on the clip there. The shot was on-frame, and the goalie was out of position; it just bounced off the face of a Canadian defender. The miss was spectacular enough to draw an ovation; I can only imagine what would have happened if the shot weren’t blocked. Actually, I can imagine it, because Clint struck home just minutes later:
We had an amazing view of this goal—the same angle as the scorpion kick—and it was all I could have hoped for. Going to an international soccer match wanting desperately to see the guy you came to see score . . . it’s kind of a longshot. Yet, I’m thrilled to be 2-for-2, lifetime. Me, my wife, my kids and I all came to see the USMNT win convincingly, and maybe see Deuce put one in net. They did, and he did.
Though the US wisely switched some youth and offense out for experience and defense across the end of the second half, they put it a little too far into the cooler. Canada got some great looks in the last fifteen minutes or so, and elite US goalie Tim Howard had to come up with a couple of stunning saves, each bringing the crowd to their feet.
Speaking of which, I have to hand it to the American Outlaws, and the Motor City Supporters. The US supporters’ section brought it, hard, all game long. Songs, chants, cheers, thunderous foot-stomping . . . it was really an awesome display. We could hear them clear as a bell when we were over on the Canadian side of the stadium. Speaking of which, I tip my hat to the Canadian supporters’ section, too:
Though our friends from just across the river didn’t turn out in droves, they did turn out in spirit. They cheered hard for 90 minutes, and endured “WE CAN’T HEAR YOU *clap* *clap* *clap clap clap*” taunts from the Yankee fans. One of the coolest moments of the night came after the game: some Canadian players slowly walked over to that section, and the fans went crazy cheering for them after a tough loss. Good show by the Voyageurs.
After the game ended, I tried to photoblog the corridors and mezzanines of Ford Field, but it was all too much. There was lots of cheering, lots of singing, and lots of clapping. Many thanks to anyone and everyone who turned out. On the day Triple Sports and Entertainment submitted Metro Detroit’s bid for an MLS franchise, every single fan in the stands made an impact. Honestly, though—as much as I hope the crowd last night impressed upon MLS just how much they’re missing out on by not being in this market, I hope last night proved to some non-soccer-loving Michiganders they’re missing out on an incredible experience.
A a kid, I didn’t get to go to many games. My mother truly enjoys watching sports, but attending them has never been her thing. Despite my burning passion for the Lions, I didn’t go to a game until I was old enough to get to the Silverdome myself. I turn 30 this year—but as a committed father of three with a 90-minute drive to Detroit, season tickets aren’t yet within my grasp. I make it to a just couple of Lions and Tigers games a year, plus a smattering of Michigan State contests. So, there’s still a special excitement, a zinging flutter, that comes with buying tickets, with holding tickets, with waking up on a gameday morning and knowing I’ll be there.
Today, my nerves are electrified. Me, my wife, and our two elder kids are going to see the USMNT play a real live game that matters tonight, live and in person, and I can hardly believe it. All of my favorite soccer reporters and bloggers are in the Motor City today. All of the usual match previews I devour are tinged with Detroit flavor—and knowing I’ll actually be seeing the game they’re previewing live, not my laptop, not tape-delayed, not in Spanish, and not on ESPN 8: The Ocho or Fox Soccer Channel Plus .TV—makes them doubly delicious.
The crazy thing is, at this time last year, I didn’t care. I’d been vaguely aware of the USMNT’s incredible run to the finals of the 2009 Confederations Cup, including an incredible 2-0 defeat of Spain, the best team in the world. I sensed a lot of buzz building around last year’s World Cup, and I discovered that many of the sports bloggers I admire most—Brian Cook of MGoBlog, Spencer Hall of EDSBS, Dan Levy of On the DL Podcast—are huge USMNT fans (all of those links go to exceptional content, especially Hall’s piece on the meaning of being a USMNT supporter. Click them).
So . . . I tuned in. I watched. I found that much of what I loved the most about hockey—the winding and unwinding of tension, the cat-and-mouse game of possession, the desperate anxiety of a centering pass, the anguish of a whiffed opportunity, the relief of an amazing save, the physics-defying feats that leave your eyes wide and jaw slack—it was all there in soccer, too. Soon, I cared. I really cared. I found myself wrapped up more and more in the success and failure of our national team—and with this moment, I was inexorably hooked:
After the end of the World Cup, I posted a piece called “Time Wonderfully Wasted,” the story of my WC2010 experience, and my blossoming soccer fandom. It had lain dormant within me, a seed planted when I attended a World Cup match as a child. I’d supported Italy throughout that tournament—partly because I come from an Italian-American family, and partly because in the soccer world, Italy was totally way awesomer than America. Those reasons weren’t really reasons, and my support of Italy lasted only as long as that tournament did.
“Choosing” a team to root for has never felt right to me; I’ve been a true-blue Lions fan since before I can remember. “Deciding” to care about a team I haven’t always lived and died with seemed impossible. But the USMNT? Their support was literally my birthright, and donning red, white, and blue once felt like always.
Tonight, my wife and kids will be wearing their colors, too. We’ll be in the Ford Field stands at 8 o’clock tonight, supporting our national team live for the very first time. The American Outlaws will be there, the Motor City Supporters will be there, and if you snag some tickets you can be there, too [Ed.: use promo code “GC11”]. I hope it’ll be an amazing experience, one that will plant a seed of fandom inside them . . . and maybe, just maybe, they won’t have to wait sixteen years for for it to sprout.
Last August, the new owners of the Lions’ old hunting grounds turned heads with a radical proposal: tear the roof off the Silverdome, build a field at the club level, and convert the upper deck into a world-class open-air soccer facility. This would provide the dedicated stadium required to lure the MLS to Detroit. The proposal created a lot of buzz, as did the “Match of the Titans” exhibition between top European club teams AC Milan and Panathinaikos F.C.
Recently, GQ UK wrote about the Sons of Ben, the Philadelphia Union supporters group who basically willed their MLS franchise into existence. The article wasn’t particularly flattering, which is why GQ UK invited Match Fit USA’s Jason Davis to respond. The whole controversy got me thinking about my friends, the Motor City Supporters, and their efforts to will our MLS franchise into existence . . . and what’s going on with that whole Silverdome renovation plan, anyway?
I went right to the source: The Triple Group’s President of Sports, Steve Apostolopoulos. “When we made the deal, some said, ‘Soccer? In Detroit? Really?’” He laughed, but it was clear that he and his family are serious. “Some thought it was just a real estate deal, but we have no intentions of ‘flipping’ the Silverdome.” He believes they’re investing in the right community. “If you ask me, ‘Is there room for another pro sports franchise?’ the answer is definitely yes. But, you’ve got to put the product on the field.” He spoke passionately about his company’s dedication and commitment to building a quality soccer organization from the playing ground up.
Mr. Apostolopoulos’s company has literal construction to do, too. In another life, I was a structural steel estimator; I have a basic understanding of how buildings are put together. What they envision for the Silverdome borders on the fantastic. “Nothing exactly like this has ever been done before,” he admitted—but in the same breath, he noted that Madison Square Garden is also a multi-level, multi-use facility. If a large theatre, expo hall, and dual-purpose NHL/NBA arena can sit on top of a train station, maybe this new ‘Dome isn’t so outlandish.
“We’re going to split the ‘Dome in half, vertically and horizontally,” he said. The club level will be removed and become a service area, with locker rooms and other facilities. Below the club level will be a multi-use concert/expo hall, and an indoor sports arena. That arena sounds perfect for basketball, and the Silverdome team is already negotiating with professional lacrosse leagues. Above the ceiling of the arena will be the centerpiece: a soccer field, surrounded by the renovated upper deck, and open to the sky.
There will be seating for twenty to thirty thousand fans, with a canopy to cover the fan seating areas. “It will have a feel,” said Apostolopoulos, “like Red Bull Arena,” citing the beautiful new home of the New York Red Bulls:
But even if they build it, will anyone come? Steve told me a story, illustrating how important he thinks it is to build relationships with fans: “A friend of mine once built a skate park. It was really nice, a great facility, but no one was using it. He asked me what I could do, and I said, ‘You’ve got to make connections, you’ve got to pound pavement.’” That’s exactly what Apostolopoulos has been doing in Detroit. Shortly after purchasing the Silverdome, he called up Motor City Supporters President Andrew Kruz.
“It was the most surreal moment of my life,” Kruz told me. “My phone rang and he was like, ‘Hi, this is Steve . . . and I own the Silverdome.’” Kruz spoke enthusiastically about the potential Detroit MLS owners, and their active engagement with the fan community. “I think that they are doing an excellent job,” he said, “and we are doing anything we can do to help them make Detroit the 20th team in MLS.”
Ah, but ours is not the only bid for that 20th spot. MLS Commissioner Don Garber has been frank about wanting to place a second team in New York City, and give the Red Bulls a turnpike rival:
"Our attention is very focused on a 20th team as we speak. We'd like that team to be in New York City representing a second team in the Tri-State area," Garber said. "The Red Bulls are very supportive of that and believe that rivalry will help grow the popularity of the sport in the New York metropolitan area. So we're going to work hard and try to get something done perhaps as early as 2013."
One year ago, the Lions concluded their 2009 regular season. I said in that day’s Three Cups Deep:
The Lions' season is officially over. Their 2-14 campaign fell just short of media expectations, and well short of fans’ hopes. For what it’s worth, I believe that if Matthew Stafford had been able to play all 16 games at 100%, the Lions would have won several more—but at this point, that’s completely meaningless.
What an incredible difference a year makes. The Lions’ 6-10 campaign met—or slightly exceeded—media expectations, and met—or fell just short—of fans’ hopes. For what it’s worth, I believe that if Matthew Stafford had been able to play all 16 games at 100%, the Lions would have won several more—but at this point, that’s completely meaningless.
What matters today is that when I go to http://www.nfl.com/standings, and scroll down to “NFC North,” the Detroit Lions appear above the Minnesota Vikings. I’ve made a mountain out of this particular molehill, but it’s a massive leap forward for the Lions. They’ve pulled themselves up out of the cellar of the league. They’ve pulled themselves up out of the cellar of the division. Having, for the first time, cracked Peter King’s Fine Fifteen, the Detroit Lions are looking down on half of the NFL, at least in terms of national perception.
Two weeks ago, Michael David Smith of the Wall Street Journal’s online edition wrote that the Detroit Lions may be the unluckiest team in NFL history. Despite, at the time, outscoring their opponents, the Lions had won only 2 of 9 games. Certainly, Lions fans expected better—and hoped for much better. Infuriatingly, the Lions seem much improved, but there’s been no change in the bottom line. However, it’s hard not to consider Bill Parcells’ famous line, “You are what your record says you are.” Many fans, bloggers, and media pros subscribe to this idea: no matter how much more competitive the Lions look, they are not actually better until they have more Ws next to their name.
Well, the Lions have more Ws next to their name, to be sure--and the rush of opening eyes and changing minds has been amazing to behold. People that were damning the Schwartz tenure as a failure are suddenly glowing with joy at the progress! People that were saying "nothing's changed since Millen" just a few weeks ago are now saying that anything other than playoffs in 2011 will be a huge disappointment.
What games have they been watching? This is the same team from last week, from two weeks ago, from two months ago. They do the same things well, and the same things poorly. The team that lost to the Packers by two points in Lambeau is the same team that beat the Packers by four points at Ford Field. There's been no metamorphosis, no grand reshaping of what the Lions are. They haven't "learned how to win." The ball just started bouncing their way--and they effectively fed off of the resultant momentum, building confidence and maintaining focus.
The Lions simply showed up and took care of business on Sunday, protecting their house from a divisional underdog. There was not a lot of drama at Ford Field--indeed, it may have been the quietest sold-out Lions game in history! It sounds boring, but THAT is the difference between these Lions and the Lions of the past two seasons. An unspectacular "show up and win" effort against a divisional rival is just what we Lions fans need to brave the winter: proof that this team is on the right track. Proof that they have a corps of young difference-making talent, standing at the doorway to the playoffs. Proof that the coaches and executive staff were the right hires. Proof that Lions fans are going to have an awful lot to cheer about next season.
That’s the only word to describe it. In just over twenty four hours, the roof of the Metrodome collapsed, the Lions held the 25-point-per-game Packers offense to a field goal in a 7-3 victory, and Ford Field sold out of free tickets to the re-located Vikings/Giants game in just 90 minutes.
Turk McBride led the Lions with two sacks, as the Lions’ defensive line won the game almost by themselves. The Lions’ 190 team rushing yards outstripped their team passing yards by the length of a football field. Nearly as many Lions, 7, had at least one rushing attempt as had at least one reception, 8. Greg Jennings not only didn’t put the team on his back, his bobble was the difference between a 75-yard touchdown and an Amari Speivey interception. Drew Stanton, after an appalling game throwing the football, was flawless on the game-winning drive. It must be said: the Lions won as they have lost—improbably, incredibly, nerve-shreddingly, and with more than a touch of surreality.
Jim Schwartz has given the players the day off today, which is a fitting reward. Those hearty souls who waited outside in the freezing cold of the wee small hours were rewarded with tickets to tonight’s Vikings-Giants game—which the Lions’ staff has truly pulled out all the stops to accommodate. Kevin Seifert detailed the Lions’ efforts to make their division rivals feel at home, which includes stadium sounds, scoring their mascot Ragnar a Harley, and scrubbing off the Lions wordmark and logo from the turf, and painting the Vikings’ logos on the field instead.
I’m incredibly proud of Lions fans, and the Lions organization, for putting together this incredible effort. With just over a day’s notice, the Ford Field staff and the city of Detroit will give the nation a Vikings-Giants environment nearly indistinguishable from the one that had been scheduled for months. This is a tremendous achievement, one that should be worn as a badge of honor by Mr. Ford, Tom Lewand, everyone in the Lions organization, the people of Detroit, and all Lions fans everywhere.
If you're lucky enough to go, a list of acceptable TLiW modes of rooting:
Wear Vikings gear and root Vikings. They're our NFC North neighbor, after all, and having them avenge the Giants loss would be nice. Besides, if we're replicating the real home field experience for them, why not be truly committed?
Wear Lions gear and root for a good game. Hey, it’s a free NFL game in Detroit! Let’s just make it classy and memorable for everyone.
Wear Lions gear and boo the hell out of the Vikings, because screw the Vikings.
Now, all that having been said . . . I can’t wait until they scrub that Vikings crap off our field. It’s making me itch.
Here are some more cool pictures from the game on Sunday that I didn’t work into the Three Cups Deep.
Walking to the stadium. Here’s where I initially spotted the tremendous XXXXXXXXXXL Germane Crowell home authentic . . . but check my man over on the right. Is that a Kelvin Pritchett away replica tucked into belted Wranglers? With a Lions hardhat? Awesome. Moving on from the “vintage” rack, we have a couple nice selections from the “so fresh and so clean” department:
That Stafford away authentic looks gorgeous. The Suh home authentic looks . . . forgeous. Look at the number patches . . . not quite right (compare the “9” in the Suh to the “9” in the Stafford). Also, the sleeves are straight-cut, not banded like authentics. Honestly, I didn’t spot this until afterwards, though—the Chinese knock-off stuff is getting better and better.
Megatron away authentic. Honolulu Blue on white just looks so good. Excellent choice, sir.
“No pictures, please.” Note the knitted Lion hat.
My son handing his first Lions ticket to his first Lions ticket-taker to enter Ford Field to see his first Lions game. Sniffle. Ticket-taker, please don’t sue me for likeness rights. TIA.
To quote a wise and learned scholar (Xzibit), “This is what happens when determination meets a broke-assed motherf****er.” Only a matter of time before my man turns that “3” into a “4” and that “SMITH” into a “BEST.” Oh, and check out David Sloan at the front of the line! He was Dallas Clark before it was cool to be Dallas Clark, supposing Peyton Manning were Scott Mitchell and Dallas Clark had knees made of Velcro.
Indoor fireworks! Excellent. I think this was Stafford’s introduction but I’m not positive.
Somehow I set “blur” to “ON” at some point, but here’s my little boy watching the Jets fans congregate, post-game. This part was hard. Note his little Lion tail, drooping.
Like I said . . . this part was hard.
It’s cool, though, because we got in the line to run onto the field and score a touchdown. the looooooooooong line.
Okay, this is terrible. This kid is wearing a “wolverinehead,” like a cheesehead, except it’s a wolverine snout. Dad is wearing a U of M cap. That would all be fine, I guess, except little dude is rocking a LaDanian Tomlinson Chargers jersey. Look, neither the Michigan Wolverines, nor the San Diego Chargers, were playing in that game. LaDanian Tomlinson was in the game, but playing against the team they came to root for. I was so grumped out by this compound attire foul, the out-of-place Zetterberg didn’t even faze me.
Tough to see, but that sign says “I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT NEW YORK,” with ‘No Smoking Sign’ circles with lines through them drawn around every major New York City sports franchise’s logo. I was so impressed with the craftsmanship, and the seething hatred, I almost took it home.
He hit the Ford Field turf running.
They gave every kid a miniball, and then lined ‘em up on the 30-yard line. They ran ‘em in batches of howevermany. Chaos.
After scoring his touchdown, he looked up at the goalposts, reared back, and threw his miniball over the crossbar . . . and over my head. It bounced off the rail on top of the wall—inches from actually going in the stands.
“Dad, I told you they were gonna let me on the field. I told you I was gonna need my cleats.” I get a certain perverse joy out of being a Stupid Old Dad.
On the way out, a major jersey win: a little dude rocking a Vanden Bosch home. I did not see much jersey love for KVB, but that kid brought it. Well done.
This week, the bloggers of the Schwartz cloth recite the most treasured of the Ford Field parables. Though few in number, and dimmer in glory, than those tales of the Silverdome Testament, there yet is much entertainment and enlightenment to be gained from them. So, get ye to the Roar of the Lions, and partake of the Lions Congregation's learning!
On my way to Ford Field, stuck in traffic on I-96, my finding/parking/walking/set-up time melting away before my eyes. The radio’s pumping pre-draft hype, my heart is pumping Taurine and B-vitamins where my blood used to be, and my mind is racing trying to figure out how I'm going to get there, get set up, and join the Mlive.com NFL Draft live blog before the Lions draft Ndamukong Suh. I hope.
Passing the accident, racing my GPS, hastening the ETA minute by minute as I make time faster than Sprint Navigation thinks I can, thanking God for Detroit drivers as I hurtle down a "55 mph" road at 75 while getting passed on both sides.
Racing through the parking garage, approaching the entrance, praying word got from the Lions’ staff to the security people that I was coming with a laptop. As I enter, a security staffer asks to see my bag. I hold by breath, open the bag . . . and she says, “Are you Ty?” I avoid the temptation to answer, “ . . . YES I AM,” and instead just say yes. I’m directed to someone who tells me to head to the fifty-yard line, and someone will meet me with WiFi credentials. As I race down to the field, the commissioner appears, and tells us the St. Louis Rams are on the clock.
As I see the setup, I desperately want to be small again. Bouncing on the bouncy things, jumping on the jumpy things, running around like a maniac on the Lions’ home turf, it all looks like so much fun. Instead, I sit down at the fifty-yard line, take out my laptop, and get to work. Double-fisting the Internet with my cell phone and laptop, I try to deliver my Twitter followers and Mlive friends a full dose of the happenings. Within seconds, Commissioner Goodell took the podium:
The excitement is electric, the buzz spine-tingling, the thrill unanimous. Despite annual bluster about needing to take a left tackle because OMG Jeff Sackus, as the Lions went on the clock, we all hoped for one player, the best player in the draft, one of the best defensive line prospects ever: Ndamukong Suh. A little of my excitement started to turn to fear.
The vibe I’d been catching from Tom Kowalski, and others, was that if the Lions could find a deal to move down, save money, and add picks in one of the deepest drafts in years, they would. In the middle of this crowd, if the Lions traded down—or worse yet, didn’t take Suh—I would want to be anywhere but where I was. Suh is shown on the phone, and a cheer goes up . . . but then, the commissioner takes the podium, and we hold our breath:
Jubilation. Exultation, adoration, grown men and women acting like children; children also acting like children. Hugs, high fives, clapping, cheering—and SUUUUUUUUUUH. Lots and lots and lots of SUUUUUUUUUUH.
I’ve never been tempted to take up photography; I have no eye, no instincts, no talent for the art whatsoever. I’ve always preferred to be the center of attention, rather than the chronicler of it. But, that moment of anticipation was magical, and I’m glad I was there as much to observe as to participate.
Thousands of men, women, children, from all walks of life, from all races, creeds and colors, from miles around, were all decked out in Honolulu Blue, and all gathered together, united completely in that moment. Every eye focused skyward, every ear straining to hear, every fan’s heart desperately wanting the same thing: hope.
In that moment the commissioner spoke, those timeless few seconds, the blue flame flickered and stirred, like a puff of breath on the flame of a candle. When the name of Ndamukong Suh rang out, the fire ROARED. For a few seconds, we beheld the glorious joy that is still yet to come. That day when every Lions fan wears their gear with pride. When every casual fan, former fan, or not even really a fan picks up a Lions hat or T-shirt while they’re at the mall, because it’s cool. When every empty suit, talking head, and pillar of hair on TV sings the praises of the Lions and their management, and when winning is not a faint and distant someday but a weekly expectation.
On the field, It’s hard to explain exactly how much Ndamukong Suh means to this franchise. After a decade of swinging and missing on high draft picks in an attempt to build a high-powered offense, building instead the worst NFL defense of all time, Suh is something different entirely.
Suh, the breathtakingly powerful keystone of a rebuilt defensive line, gives us hope that the Lions will no longer bleed to death in the fourth quarter, surrendering game-winning drives when pluck and effort crumble at the hands of power and strength. He gives us hope that the Lions will not be Kleenex on third down—no more containing an offense twice, only to helplessly allow their march to the end zone to continue. He gives us hope that finally, finally, the Lions defense has a player that can disrupt an offense, and force them to adjust to us.
After the rapturous joy had subsided into thousands of permanent grins, I decided it was time to stop observing and start experiencing. I'd already had the pleasure of seeing several people come stand and pose on the leaping Lion. But these two dudes, in Cory Schlesinger and Chris Spielman jerseys, arrived and started WORKING IT. Seriously, these guys were naturals. After they took turns doing pose after pose, I asked them if they wanted to be e-famous. They said, “Sure!” and went to work:
They just did this, I didn’t direct them or anything. Amazing work, fellas; drop me a line if this was you. Next up, I attempted a field goal. I debated about using the straight-ahead style, or soccer style . . . I dimly recalled an old Jason Hanson interview where he said that novices should always use straight-on, but I decided to attempt it soccer-style. It went up, and straight, and end-over-end, but not very far. I’d put my plant foot short of the ball, and so my kicking foot bounced off the turf before going up into the ball. Ah well. Next up . . . heading into the tunnel.
This was kind of unreal. I couldn’t believe the Lions opened up the tunnel and the locker room for fans—but, as the fellow guiding the tour, Don, pointed out, the Lions are actually only in Ford Field twelve times a year. It’s not as though any deeply personal stuff is kept in the locker room; the vast majority of the Lions’ working time is spent at the Allen Park facility. Apparently, you can rent out any space in the Ford Field building . . . even the locker rooms . . . even for weddings.
Here’s the visitors’ locker room. I complimented these gentlemen on their jersey purchases. Fellas, comment if you see this. Next up, the home locker room:
It's impressive. It’s also about five times the size of the visitors’ locker rooms—and, according to Don, this room’s showers work. By the way, in case you doubt the NFL’s commitment to cracking down on blowing up ‘defenseless’ players, check it out:
There are posters and signage like this all over the locker rooms, like the full uniform code and a graphic detailing what is appropriate and what will be fined. But this one jumped out at me:
The NFL takes the sanctity of the game very, very seriously. Finally, the brief tour ended, and I headed back out onto the field. With the event nearly over, people were streaming out, and the field was nearly empty. The draft was approaching pick #20, and I had to get my laptop packed up. I realized the moment would be wasted if I didn’t strike my own pose:
. . . and with that, I left. The fine folks at Ford Field put on an excellent event. The fans went home pleased and fulfilled. A couple of guys were hollering, “SUUUUUUUUUH” in the parking garage and letting it echo and echo and echo . . .
Good night, Leaping Lion. Good night, FieldTurf. Good night, goal posts, and good night, signs. Good night, jumpy things, and good night, bouncy things. Good night video boards, and good night Commissioner. Good night Ford Field, and good night staff. Good night Lions fans everywhere.
Yeah and then while I was driving home they traded back up into the first and took Jahvid Best. @#$%#*@$@%#*$#@$*&@^^#&#**!^^$*$((&$^#&^$&*#(#&$*$(#@&#(#*&&!!!!
Some are complaining about the trade up; the Lions surely could have waited to see if he fell? But the Lions were waiting on the best available runningback or cornerback, and every other RB or CB with a first-round grade was gone. The dropoff from Jahvid Best to Toby Gerhart or Chris Cook is really, really significant—and with a whole night to sleep on it, the risk that a team could trade up and leapfrog them was extreme. No, Best was the only way the Lions get two instant-impact starters out of this draft, and I commend them for putting those seventh-rounders to work.
The Lions got much, much better last night; the offense now looks truly dangerous. The amount of talent at each position is orders of magnitude above where it was two years ago, and much greater than at this time last season. I am pleased; Best will be a good feature back until Kevin Smith is ready, and they’ll be a tremendous combination once he’s full speed again. Ndamukong Suh, along with Sammie Hill and Corey Williams, will form one of the biggest and most athletic defensive tackle rotations in the NFL.
I wonder if the Lions don’t have more up their sleeve; they desperately need a corner who can compete for a starting job. Chris Cook is still out there, but likely won’t last to the third round, and the pickings get even slimmer after him. I’d like to see the Lions dip in to next years’ picks; this draft is one of the deepest I’ve ever seen, and there are still players with excellent grades still on the board. If they could move back up into the second, without sacrificing their third, I think it’d be a truly outstanding draft.
It took me longer than I meant to to get my draft plans figured out, but it’s now settled: I’ll be attending the creatively-named Draft Night Event at Ford Field. I’ll be seeing the sights and talking to people beforehand, and recording video live from the event. I’ll be trying to upload them and link to them as the night goes on. Hit me up on Twitter if you’re there—and if you aren’t camera shy, you might even get to be “famous”!
And by "famous", I mean you will get to be on the Internet. Which like, you probably already are. But you know, more on the Internet.
Also, if my laptop isn’t confiscated and the WiFi holds up, I’ll be part of the Mlive.com NFL Draft Live Blog, along with Phil, Killer, Schottey, and the rest of the gang. I’ll be posting up the video links there, too, so if you’re following along, you won’t miss out. Failing that, I will of course be Tweeting the everlovin’ love out of it @lionsinwinter.
The fourth round of my quasi-mock will be up before the afternoon is out, but I’m not going to do the seventh. Besides being a massive effort, with so many selections and too many players to scout, there’s nearly zero chance that the Lions stand pat throughout the fifth and six rounds while they have four seventh-rounders burning a hole in their pocket. I anticipate that those picks will be used as trade lubricant, and the draft board will start changing rapidly come Saturday.
I love making the pilgrimage to the stadium, there's really nothing like it. Connecting with the fans, hearing the cheers, feeling the excitement, spotting jersey fails, and spotting jersey wins—like the old guy in an authenic Lem Barney throwback I saw last year. Paying like $13 for a Labatt and a Kowalski, soaking in the tepid rays of the Detroit sun, even indoors . . . it’s awesome. I can’t wait to capture the moment when they draft Ndamukong Suh on video—and I can’t wait to share it all with you!
A couple nights ago, I was down in the basement, hunting for an old CD. While I was rooting around in a box of such stuff, I found a small treasure: my 1995 Sports Illustrated Detroit Lions Video Yearbook. The old-school VHS tape—still in its shrinkwrap—chronicles the last great campaign of the Detroit Lions. No, you read right; I’ve never watched it. When I was younger, it was merely the recent past. I figured, “Eh, what’s the point? I’ve just seen it live!” To top it off, the hideous, embarrassing, wasn’t-as-close-as the-scoreboard-suggested 58-37 dismantling of the Lions by the Eagles was such a disastrous finale; it poisoned my feelings of the entire season. Tragic, because it was the kind of fairy tale we annually wish for--but these days, are never granted.
It started off as a typical Lions season: three straight losses to the Steelers, Vikings, and Cardinals, all by a total of just 16 points. Then, a thrilling 27-24 win over the defending Super Bowl 49ers was followed by a bye week of basking in the glory. A rout of the Browns got the Lions almost back to .500. But then came a 31-20 loss in Lambeau, followed by an OT heartbreaker on the road--against Martin Mayhew and the Redskins. The Lions did get the Packers back at home, 24-16, but then dropped the next one in Atlanta, 34-22.
The Lions sat at 3-6, all but eliminated from the playoffs. The calls for head coach Wayne Fontes’s head roared from all corners of Lions Nation: “Now, finally, please, Mr. Ford! Isn’t this enough? 3-6, doubtlessly heading for another 5-11 or 6-10 season? Surely, even you can admit that it’s finally time to bag the Big Buck.”
No, of course not. Nothing doing. Amazingly, Fontes and the Lions weren’t having any of it either. After coming out and beating the Buccaneers, the Lions tore through the Bears, Vikings, and Bears again to make four straight division wins. After beating the Oilers, they routed the hapless Jaguars (in their inaugural season) 44-0. Needing a win to, incredibly, secure a Wild Card berth, they waltzed into Tampa Bay and waltzed back out with a 37-10 victory.
It bears going over just how incredible this season was from a statistical perspective. Scott Mitchell had, by far, his best season as a pro. He threw for 4,338 yards, threw 32 TDs to only 12 INTs, rushed for another 4 scores (!), and achieved a passer efficiency rating of 92.3%. Herman Moore set the all-time single-season receptions record with 123 (the record stood until 2002). Brett Perriman, the Lions’ stalwart #2 wideout, hauled in 108 catches, too—the first time in NFL history that two receivers from the same team both caught over 100 balls in the same season. Barry Sanders toted it 318 times for 1,500 yards and 11 touchdowns; it was his 7th consecutive 1,000-yard season. He also had 48 catches for 398 yards and another score. Sanders, Moore, LT Lomas Brown, and C Kevin Glover all made the Pro Bowl. Interestingly, Scott Mitchell set a Thanksgiving Day record with 410 passing yards.
After the Lions had completed the feat—run the table from Week 11 in—the national media really turned their heads. I remember relishing the Sports Reporters on ESPN the following Sunday; Mitch Albom barely containing his glee when Mike Lupica interjected, “I’m sorry, but does anyone want to play the Detroit Lions right now? No!” Of course, there was a little talk about how the Lions didn’t beat any other playoff teams during that seven-game streak--but in the NFL, closing out a season like that is practically unheard of. Lomas Brown went so far as to assure the media in Detroit that they would go on to handle the Eagles in the first round. It didn’t quite happen that way.
After the Eagles intercepted Mitchell on the opening drive, they ran it in to draw first blood. Mitchell recovered with a beautiful 32-yard bomb to tight end David Sloan. Somewhere in Holt, MI, a 14-year-old geek jumped, hollered, and fist-pumped his way around his living room. It was a very short dance. Former Lions quarterback Rodney Peete lead the Eagles to 44 consecutive points to make it 51-7. The attic door slammed shut on Cinderella, and Drizella rolled out in the Prince’s carriage.
Mitchell was pulled after his fourth filthy INT. Backup QB Don Majikowski did some good things in relief—like hit Herman Moore for a 68-yard TD strike—and made the final score look almost respectable: 58-37. It remains the highest total points scored in any NFL playoff game; it made for the Lions’ third straight first-round playoff loss. We Lions fans thought it was the bitterest agony: to be so close to glory, but fall flat time after time after time. However, in the next thirteen seasons, we would taste that exquisite agony but once.
Tomorrow is the annual extravaganza down at Ford Field; thousands of fans—including Clan TLIW—will commence with the pilgrimage to Ford Field for autographs, face painting, hot dogs, pop, beer—and, oh yes, Detroit Lions football. That’s right, the new Lions in the new uniforms in Ford Field with full contact, full drills, and a full 11-on-11 scrimmage. Do you understand?! NEW! FULL! LIONS! I can scarcely believe it!
My eldest child, who turns 5 next month, is old enough that she’ll definitely remember this. She’ll meet some Lions, and get some stuff signed, see some football, hear the crowd--and maybe she’ll fall in love with this team the way I did. My son’s appetite for sports is already insatiable—but he roots for the teams I root for, because I tell him about them and we watch them on TV. For all the HDTV and Internet and CrackBerry and Twitter and all that junk—and hey, I’m a blogger, I’m all about “all that junk”—I remain convinced that the soul of sports is young fans, in the stands, in awe of the wonder and the spectacle. The imposing size and complexity of the stadium structure, the seemingly infinite swath of green field and white stripes. There’s nothing like it; thousands and thousands of fans, all wearing the team colors, all cheering the cheers. Watching teams play live; that’s where kids become fans, and fans become kids.
Will I show my kids that tape? Should I show them the Lions I grew up rooting for? The last time the Lions could hang their hat on their wins and losses? Do I want to show them what it was like the last time the Lions tore through the NFL? The last time the Lions could strike fear into the hearts of opponents? The last time Lions fans could truly roar with pride? Eh, what’s the point? They’re just about to see it live.
“Dad, I told you they were gonna let me on the field. I told you I was gonna need my cleats.” I get a certain perverse joy out of being a Stupid Old Dad.
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