Haunted By Hope: The Ghosts of Lions Past

So here’s the headline on Tom Kowalski’s latest mailbag:

Three reasons why the Detroit Lions have 'real' hope this year

Those quotes express life as a Lions fan. When has our hope been real? When have the Lions truly been building something worthwhile? When has it all been a fraud? What’s the tipping point between being sure success is right around the corner, and living in a fantasyland?

History sees only the scoreboard; many insist it’s the only real metric. In this respect Jim Schwartz’s Lions have yet to eclipse Rod Marinelli’s, or Steve Mariucci’s. In fact, of the eight non-interim Lions head coaches in my lifetime, only Marty Mornhinweg and Daryl Clark failed to notch at least one 6-win season. At this point, the 2011 Lions are no different than the 2008 Lions, or the 2005 Lions, or 1998, or 1996, or . . . All rode on waves of exceeded expectations from the year before, all were full of reasons to hope, and all took a unexpected step back—or an unimaginable plunge into the abyss.

It’s hard to forget these hopes, these expectations; it’s the unexpected flipside of my role as the Flamekeeper. My constant vigil and long perspective allows me to accept harsh disappointment, internalize it, and keep cheering. Yet, when I’ve been convinced the Lions were on a forkless Yellow Brick Road to success, and they’ve failed, it’s stuck with me. These collapsed Lions teams, these unmade dynasties-in-the-making, they haunt me like ghosts.

In the NFL, success and failure balance on the edge of a knife. I’ve pointed before at October 2, 2005 as the day Mariucci’s Lions were undone. When five years of kitting the Lions’ roster together by the 49ers’ pattern unravelled:

It was Harrington’s first signature comeback drive, an efficient 81-yard march ending with a well-placed 12-yard touchdown pass—that got taken away by review. Despite the play being ruled a touchdown on the field, and the ball being in Pollard’s hands while he was in bounds, the ref overturned the call, and the Lions’ season momentum evaporated.

Obviously, Joey Harrington was not then, never became, and likely never would have become a great NFL quarterback. But flip that one bit from “0” to “1”, and instead of the Thanksgiving Day loss to the Falcons sealing Mariucci’s fate, it’d have been the first time the Lions dipped below .500. Yes, that’s right: if that touchdown doesn’t get called back, the Lions carry a .500 or better record into Thanksgiving.

Instead, it all fell apart. With fans publicly, and teammates privately, incensed with Harrington’s subpar play, Mariucci didn’t support his quarterback. Instead, he made plain his frustration with Harrington, and propped up Jeff Garcia at every opportunity. Mariucci’s failure to groom Harrington into a winner—and by extension, failure to make Millen look good—cost Mooch his job.

In an alternate universe somewhere, the Mariucci Lions worked. Charles Rogers’ collarbone held together, Roy Williams remained a terrifying big-play threat, and Mike Williams developed into a stalwart possession receiver [Ed.—Heck, that happened in this universe]. Joey Harrington became the triggerman for an offense bristling with diverse weapons. Space was opened up in the front seven for Kevin Jones to work his magic. A solid scoring defense, and exceptional special teams units, rounded out a team you could rely to win about 59.1% of its games—just as Mariucci did in San Francisco.

I loved that team. The hometown coach, the star wideout I partied with in college, cerebral, misfit quarterback I always said I’d be were I born into a 6’-4”, 240-pound body with a rocket arm. I believed that team was on its way—just as I believe this team is, too. I had more doubts in 2008 and 2005 than I have in 2011, but I knew the Lions were on the path to success. For every nice thing an analyst has said about Jim Schwartz, I can someone citing Mariucci’s track record, or claiming they’d run through a brick wall for Marinelli after interviewing him. We can wax philosophical until we’re blue in the face, and we can cite Statistical Great Leaps Forward—but if the Lions go 5-11 this season, all of the optimism this offseason will seem just as ludicrous as me claiming Mariucci was a bad call away from taking the Lions to the promised land.

Look, I know the Lions are doing it right this time. I know Jim Schwartz was an excellent hire. I know the Lions are going to make the playoffs this year. But don’t forget, Joey Harrington once knew he could play in this league . . . I and knew he was right.

“The Young Guns of The NFL.” Drew Brees, Michael Vick, and Tom Brady, all getting second billing to Joey Ballgame—it makes us shake our head now, but it made our heads spin then. Was it madness to hope the Lions were building something great? Foolishness? To borrow a phrase, audacity? Or was it something real, something true, unjustly undone by the pernicious whims of fate and a razor-thin margin for error?

I can’t mull this over without considering the reverse: what if the Lions are successful this year, and it’s not for real? What if fortune and variance smile on the Lions, and they make a deep playoff run—followed by years of mediocrity? What if this is all the prelude to another Fontes era, where tantalizing tastes of glory are chased with bitter failure, year after year after year? How cruelly will that Lions team haunt us?

As we speak of madness and fantasy worlds, let me quote the great Albus Dumbledore who said “It is our choices that define us, Harry, far more than our abilities.” It’s our choice to make of the Lions what we will. The battle between Optimists and Pessimists has raged on Lions message boards since there’s been an Internet, and it rages still. Anyone can point to any number of reasons to hope, just as anyone can point to any number of reasons to believe it “when they see it.” I choose to hope, and so that hope is real.

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The Watchtower: Lions At Cowboys

For the first time in the illustrious not-very-long history of the Watchtower, I have the rare privilege . . . and infuriating chore . . . of analyzing a team whose head coach has been fired midseason.  The Dallas Cowboys finally put poor Wade Phillips out of his misery, and put me squarely into mine.  Offensive coordinator Jason Garrett takes over, which would be fine and all, except . . .

Jason Garett vs. Gunther Cunningham

Ornk

PpG

YpA

YpC

Gun

Drnk

DPpG

DYpA

DYpC

PTS

PTSΔ

YpA

YpAΔ

YpC

YpCΔ

2010

DAL

19th

21.6

7.45

3.61

DET

20th

22.4

6.80

4.68

Jason Garrett hasn't ever faced Gunther Cunningham, which isn’t surprising since Garrett’s only been a coordinator since 2007, and Gunther was out of work in 2007, and the Cowboys didn’t play the Lions last year.  On first blush, Garrett doesn’t come from any specific coaching tree, either.  However, Jason was NFL quarterback for over a decade—including a long stint in Dallas where he held the clipboard for Cowboy coordinators Norv Turner and Ernie Zampese.  It’s then when Garrett learned the tenets of the Air Coryell offense.

It's the father of many offenses in the NFL—a major reason the Bears could transition coordinators from Ron Turner (Norv’s brother) to Mike Martz in one season without a wholesale change in terminology.  Timing routes and a modular route-numbering system allow for the easy construction of devastating pass route combinations.  Whether it’s paired with a power running game, a la Norv’s Cowboys and Chargers, or a crazy singleback-who-flexes-to-WR approach like Martz’s, Don Coryell's passing system is still potent.

The Cowboys don’t feature lots of four and five wide like Martz does—tight end Jason Witten is too potent to be shelved—but the running game has been a largely ineffective platoon of Felix Jones, Marion Barber, and Tashard Choice.  Barber, especially, has been a shell of his former “Barberian” self, averaging just 3.3 yards per carry.  Without an effective running game, the Cowboys’ passing attack has been keyed on by opposing defenses—still, the talented targets the ‘Boys boast have been enough to muster 21.6 points per game (19th-best in the NFL).  Despite the one-dimensionality of their offense, they’ve been averaging 7.45 YpA through the air, which is excellent.

The Lions have faced several offenses that branch off of the late Don Coryell’s coaching tree, including all of the above.  They currently boast the 20th-ranked scoring defense in the NFL (the best they’ve been ranked since I started doing this), allowing 22.4 PpG.  These two units are very, very equally matched, so any systemic advantage could be a huge one.  There isn't any data for Jason Garrett, but let's go barking up his coaching tree for a substitute, shall we?

Arguably, the implementation closest to Garrett’s would be Norv Turner’s—and in a prior Watchtowering of Ron Turner, I examined Norv as a Ron equivalent:

IF we consider Ron and Norv Turner interchangable—and we don't—then given greater, equal, or lesser talent, Gunther Cunningham's hyperagressive 4-3 appears to match expectations versus a Turner Bros. Coryell-style downfield passing offense (albeit while generating very high sack and turnover numbers). That is to say there is no systemic advantage or disadvantage for either team.

The task now should be to do that thing I do with the averages.  However, the Cowboys seemed to “wake up” in a big way after Garrett was handed the keys: the 1-6 Cowboys went into Your Company Name Here Stadium and whooped the Giants, 33-20.  Has Garrett catalyzed the Cowboys’ considerable talent? Are the 2-7 ‘Boys are going to be a tough out the rest of the way?  Well . .  . maybe.  It’s true that the offense looked more competent through the air—but seven of those 33 points were scored on an interception return, and the Cowboys were already averaging nearly 22 points a game—the big difference was in how the defense played, not the offense.  Therefore, I’m not going to inflate the Cowboys’ offensive expectations beyond their season averages to this point.

Given no systemic advantage or disadvantage, Jason Garrett’s implementation of the Air Coryell offense should meet expectations against Gunther Cunningham’s aggressive 4-3, scoring 21-24 points, averaging 8.0-to-9.0 YpA, and 3.5 to 3.75 YpC.  I have low confidence in this projection.

Mitigating/Aggravating Factors:

Well, first, I could be wrong about the whole “catalyst” thing.  Maybe Garrett shoved Wade out of the drivers’ seat, mashed the pedal to the floor, and now the Cowboys are rocketing down a windblown Texas highway, Phillips choking on dust and burnt rubber.  Then again, maybe last week was a one-off Perfect Storm of motivation and execution for their new coach, and they’ll settle right back into their averages from here on out.  Then again, maybe Williams and Kitna have vengeance on their mind?  In the other direction, the Cowboys’ pass protection could break down—the offensive line has youth and ability, but never both in the same body—and the Lions’ pass rush could tee off.  I suspect, though, that if I’m wrong on this projection, I’ll miss low.

Scott Linehan vs. Wade Phillips

Lin	Ornk	PgG	YpA	YpC		Drnk	PpG	DYpA	DYpC	PTS	PTSΔ	YpA	YpAΔ	YpC	YpCΔ
MIN	6th	26.0	7.60	4.75	ATL	30th	26.4	5.23	4.48	35	35%	9.96	31%	4.37	-8%
MIA	16th	19.9	5.94	3.69	SDC	13th	19.5	6.35	3.49	23	16%	10.4	75%	2.73	-26%
STL	10th	22.9	6.69	4.26	SDC	7th	18.9	5.97	4.18	24	5%	8.18	22%	4.81	13%
STL	28th	16.4	5.63	3.78	DAL	13th	20.3	5.87	4.17	0	~	4.77	-15%	2.95	-22%
STL	30th	14.5	5.67	3.95	DAL	18th	22.6	5.11	4.24	34	134%	9.05	60%	5.28	34%
DET	11th	23.9	5.87	3.43	DAL	29th	28.0	7.57	4.34

Again, I feel a little odd Watchtowering a coach who's not coaching.  Newly-minted DC Paul Pasqualoni was the assistant with the most experience in the 3-4 alignment the Cowboys run—obviously, the scheme will not change drastically from what was in place.  There is a solid bit of history here between Linehan and Phillips, though, so I’ll go over it briefly.

In 2003, the 6th-ranked Vikings took on Phillips’ 30th-ranked Falcons (after Phillips had ascended to interim head coach midseason); the Vikings scored 35%  above their usual 26 points per game—right in line with expectations.  In 2005, the Dolphins—with Jason Garrett as quarterbacks coach!—were the 16th-ranked offense, going up against Wade’s Chargers, ranked 13th.  The Fins actually exceeded expectations a tiny bit, scoring three more points than their season average against a slightly-above-median defense—but nowhere near enough to suspect a systemic advantage.

In 2006, the Rams were ranked a solid 10th in the NFL in scoring, at 22.9 PpG.  The Chargers were even better, ranked seventh and allowing just 18.9. Surprisingly, the Rams managed to score 24 points, five percent about their season average.  They did it while rushing and passing at effectiveness levels above their year’s average, as well.  Unfortunately, here is where the happy times stop.

In 2007 the Rams were 28th scoring offense, averaging 16.4 points per game.  However, they were without Steven Jackson, and the Cowboys shut them out.  Wade’s D held the Rams to just 2.95 YpC, and 4.77 YpA, while the offense scored exactly zero points (Dante Hall did notch a punt return TD).  The next season, two weeks after Linehan had been fired, the Rams and their anemic 14.5 point-per-game offense hosted the 18th-ranked Cowboys and . . . scored 34 points?!

Yup, they sure did, and were sixty and thirty-four percent more effective through the air and ground, to in the process.  What caused such an outburst?  No clue.  According to Pro Football Reference, it was 72 degrees, windless, on FieldTurf, and all the starters played . . . the Rams just had the Cowboys’ number that day.

It looks as though the Linehan offense has a decided advantage over Wade Phillips’ 3-4 when the passing game is working early—passing to set up the run, as it were.  I’m therefore comfortable concluding that Scott Linehan balanced offenses have a mild systemic scoring advantage against Wade Phillips 3-4 defenses, especially when the passing game works well early.

Even given last Sunday’s wretched performance, the Lions still boast the NFL’s eleventh-best scoring offense, averaging 23.9 points per game.  Dallas’ defense has been putried, though—even last week’s surprising limitation of the Giants’ offense to 20 only lowered their season average to 28 points per game.  They’re allowing 7.57 yards on every pass attempt, and 4.34 yards on every carry.  The defense simply hasn’t been the unit we’ve seen in the Big D over the past few seasons, and that’s been their downfall as much as anything.

Expectations would hold that the Lions score better than their season average against the Cowboys, and that the Cowboys allow slightly more than usual against the Lions.  There, theoretically, is a mild scoring advantage for the Lions, but the defense did play markedly better in its first game under Pasqualoni—so I’ll call those two factors a wash.  I project the Lions’ offense to match expectations against the Cowboys, scoring 25-to-30 points, averaging 6-to-7 YpA, and 3.75-to-4 YpC.  I have medium-to-high confidence in this projection.

Mitigating/Aggravating Factors:

It's the Lions on the road.

Conclusion:

I cannot believe I’m about to do this after the past two weeks.  I projected the Lions to beat the Jets, and they blew a 10-point 4th-quarter lead and lost in overtime.  I projected the Lions to handle the Bills, and they completely failed to show up.  If the Lions are the Lions we saw all year up until last Sunday, they’re a better team than the Cowboys and should win.  If the Lions are the Lions we saw all decade, forget about it.  Interestingly, though, I think the shoes from last week are on the other foot: the Cowboys are fresh off a fantastic performance, feeling their oats, thinking they're way better than the lowly Lions they're about to face--even though both teams have putrid records.  After mailing it in last week, the Lions ought to be revved up to prove they are who we thought they were.  All that aside, though, the numbers show these two teams to be very evenly matched, but with a definite offensive edge for the Lions.

Hesitatingly, gulpingly, and with an extreme chance of heartbreak, I declare that the most likely outcome of the game is a 27-24 Lions win.  Heaven help me.

Technorati Tags: nfl,detroit lions,dallas cowboys,wade phillips,jason garrett,jim schwartz,gunther cunningham,scott linehan,paul pasqualoni

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The Miseducation of Roy Williams

Roy Williams is a joke.  At least, that’s what they think in Dallas, according to Jason Cole of Yahoo! Sports:

As much as Cowboys fans love to celebrate the Herschel Walker trade in 1989 that launched the great run of the 1990s, Williams is almost the antithesis of that deal. No, Williams didn’t cost as much as Walker gained, but Williams has fallen so far short of expectation that it’s a joke.

Just three years ago, Roy Williams was coming off of an 82-catch, 1,310-yard, 7-TD season.  In the words of a very-different-sounding Yahoo! Sports Roy Williams article from 2007: 

One season removed from his first Pro Bowl appearance, Detroit Lions wide receiver Roy Williams has firmly established himself as a star in the NFL.  What few outside of Detroit know is that he's also one of the most entertaining voices in the league.

Roy certainly was entertaining.  In Detroit, he came across as intelligent, funny, and famously stingy with his dollars—but not with his praise for teammates.  I always found Roy easy to like.  Seriously, a superstar NFL wideout who’s also a music-loving homebody?  That’s music to my ears.

Robinson: Not a lot of people know this about you, but you're a pretty musical guy. You play sax, piano and guitar, right?

Williams: Yeah. Hearing the sax when it's in jazz, it can really chill you out. That's one of the things when I retire – I want to move back to Odessa and buy a house once I stack that paper and learn the drums. I want to play the drums.

Upon reading that article, my wife happily christened Roy her Favorite Lion.  Her first Lions jersey was a home Williams #11.  Of course, besides all the awesome off-the-field stuff, Roy made a habit of doing on-field stuff like this:

Roy was on his way to being a superstar in Detroit—and when the Lions added Calvin Johnson, it seemed as though the Lions would have one of the best WR duos ever assembled.  But Roy took a step back in ‘07.  Shortly into the 2008 season, Roy’s role was that of the second fiddle, and his heart was elsewhere.

Clearly, he wasn't a great fit for Mike Martz's timing offense, preferring to use his physical tools to improves and dominate, rather than be exactly on a mark at exactly the right time.  Clearly, the losing bothered him.  Clearly, he didn’t enjoy drawing coverage so that Mike Furrey and Corey Bradford could catch balls in the margins.  From Nick Cotsonika’s piece in the Freep ($):

"I feel that if I'm not involved in the game and we lose, I'm (ticked) off," Williams said. "But if I'm not involved and we win, hey, it's a great job. And I've been like that since I've been here. I just feel like I can make some plays, as well. ... Three balls a week, that's not going to cut it."

Even though that article is titled “MAD MEN: ROY WILLIAMS,” I didn’t think he was angry.  He seemed . . . vacant.  Empty.  Whatever magic, whatever spark he possessed, it was gone.  Gone, as if he was just waiting get out of Detroit.  Gone, as if he’d already left.  Gone, as if he was already back in Texas.  From the Grand Rapids Press:

The one thing you learn about Williams very quickly is that he loves Texas and would love to return to his home state. Williams is a Texas guy and mentions it in nearly every interview and flies back to his home in Odessa to see his young child every chance he gets. If the Lions get two consecutive days off, Williams bolts for Texas. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that, but it shows where his heart is.

Well, Roy got his wish: he was traded to the Cowboys, he donned the star, he returned as the prodigal son.  But oddly, whatever went missing . . . it didn’t come back.

Watching Roy in Dallas, he plays like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders.  Actually, scratch that, it looks like he’s got the weight of the world in his hands.  He never possessed Herman Moore-soft hands—in fact, he’d garnered a bit of a reputation for dropping the easy ones.  But a man who made impossible catches seem routine suddenly couldn’t catch a cold.

Watching Roy attempt to catch a football these days is painful.  You can see him get open.  You can watch the ball come his way.  You can see him extend his hands, watch it all the way in, and then . . . FLUFFERNUTTER!  It shouldn’t happen with an NFL-caliber wideout, let alone one as gifted and well-compensated as he is.  I've speculated before that it might be his vision. Former Jaguar receiver Jimmy Smith struggled to catch the ball until his vision was corrected with surgery; it’s a wonder Roy can see anything through his trademark limo-tint visor.

Whatever it is—vision, malaise, a case of the yips—it can’t be that he’s just working because he needs the money.  When the Cowboys pay him the thirteen million dollars they owe him for this season, he’ll have earned fifty million in his career.  Agent Ben Dogra said, during a meeting with Roy and his family:

Let’s have a plan so he can achieve greatness, do what you have to do to be a great player. Roy can walk away from the game right now. He has all the money he needs, but this is about what’s inside of him, what he wants to be.

Well, that’s the question: what is inside Roy Williams?  What does he want to be?  For all his unfulfilled potential, for all of the millions of Lions-fan dollars he collected, for everything that his drafting, failing, and departure represents, I still want him to make good.  I can’t believe that Lions football was tainted, so cursed, that for a decade, no amount of talent, effort, or luck could make anyone who passed through this organization successful.

Get out there, Roy, and show the doubters they’re wrong.  Prove to them, to the spoiled Cowboys fans, and to us, that you really would have been successful.  Take your rightful place amongst the best and brightest in the NFL.

Technorati Tags: nfl,detroit lions,dallas cowboys,roy williams

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throwing down the gauntlet

Maybe it’s a generational thing.  There are a lot of football fans I know—especially those over 40--who won’t buy or wear jerseys.  The typical line goes something like, “What kind of limp-wristed pansy wears a jersey with another man’s name on the back?”  Others simply don’t like the look, or won’t spend the money.  No matter your age, most put off buying a jersey because they're deathly afraid of being That Guy:sadly mothballing the jersey of the bust/flameout/druggie/woman abuser who looked so good a season or two before.  Or worse, being THAT That Guy, walking around repping the loser anyway, maybe even getting enshrined on Straight Cash Homey.

Fans my age, 27, were growing up when wearing the jersey of your favorite player became legitimately fashionable. The “throwback” craze hit just as my generation was discovering the wonders of summer jobs and disposable income.  It’s only natural that when I, a rabid Lions fan, reached college in 1999, I began my unintentional quest to be The King Of That Guy.

It started with a home Charlie Batch replica--right before Millen came in and changed the jerseys.  Shortly thereafter, I added a Duce Staley (Eagles) home replica.  After both players flamed out and went to the Steelers, I was desperately in need of a new jersey—both to rep a current player, and to get one of the new jersey style.  My fellow Spartan, and acquaintance, Chuck Rogers happened to go #2 overall in the draft to the Lions--the question of who to rep had been answered.  My then-girlfriend (now wife) surprised me on my birthday with an away “C. Rogers” #80 replica.  It's still one of the best gifts I've ever recieved, even if it didn't turn out so hot.  After we married, I picked up a home replica of her favorite Lion, Roy Williams, and a kids-size Kevin Jones home replica for our first daughter.  When my son was born, we picked up a youth Mike Furrey home replica for my daughter, and my son inherited the Jones.

At this point, I desperately needed a new jersey, but wasn’t quite ready to take the plunge on a current Lion.  I’d been planning on going big-time with an Ernie Sims authentic, but it was a pretty big investment on a player who took a pretty big step back after his rookie season.  After winning a fantasy championship partially on the back of Chad Johnson, I went to a Reebok outlet sale and snagged a Bengals “Johnson” #85 home replica on the cheap.  So, to review: as of Friday morning, I myself had four jerseys, my wife had one, and my kids had two.  Of all of these jerseys, only one player has not left their depicted team in disgrace—and that guy HAS SINCE CHANGED HIS LAST NAME.

At the open practice tomorrow, the new-look Lions take their home field for the first time--all decked out with their new uniforms and new logo; I knew I couldn’t trot out the Chuck Rogers, or the peeling-numbered Batch “throwback”.  As the Flamekeeper, the torchbearer, the self-appointed philosopher king of all true diehard Lions fans, I knew there was only one player I could in good conscience come bearing the livery of: Matthew Stafford. As much as I like Megatron, Kevin Smith, Julian Peterson, Cliff Avril, all those guys, Stafford is the franchise.  He’s the quarterback, the field general, the spokesman, and the lynchpin of the entire organization.

Sure, there are a lot of naysayers, a lot of doubters, and a lot of obstacles to his success.  But forget that. I’m throwing down the gauntlet. I’m investing my fandom—and my hard-earned jack--in this wunderkind.  I said before the draft that if he’s the pick, we fans have  got to support him the way we never supported Joey—and I’m not only going to support him, I’m picking up the banner and running.  I hope that people see me, hand-in-hand with my wife and three kids, rocking the authentic Stafford, and think, “Wow, that guy must really believe.”  And, maybe, possibly, then think “maybe I should, too.”

When I had this epiphany, I first obtained the blessing of my incredible (and incredibly understanding, and incredibly forgiving) wife.  Then, I went to a Michigan-based collectibles chain called Legends Sports & Games, calling first to reserve one in my size.  The employee working behind the counter, by appearances in his mid-40s, seemed almost bemused by my eagerness to score this shirt.  He asked if I was a Lions fan, or just thought maybe they’d turn it around this year.  My reply kicked off a nice little conversation about being a Lions fan, my blog, and the proper sizing of an authentic (the shoulders are cut to accept pads; going too big will have an effect not dissimilar to “princess sleeves”).

I asked him if he was a fan too, and he replied that he was--but after all the years of frustration, he was finding it hard to even try anymore.  He looked at me and said, “Just give me something.  Please, tell me these guys are going to do something worth watching this year.”  I didn’t hesitate to reply in the affirmative, specifically that the defense will be incredibly aggressive.  He smiled, said he hoped I was right, and proceeded to cut me a great deal on the jersey.  That put a smile on my face, and—I hope—stoked the little blue flame in his heart.

I likely won’t be posting again this weekend, but I do plan to be Tweeting updates from Ford Field all day long.  So, if you aren’t coming, stay tuned to @lionsinwinter for live firsthand reports.  If you are planning to be there, email me at thelionsinwinter@gmail.com, and maybe I’ll see you there.

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