GRAMBLING, EDDIE ROBINSON, AND ME

Grambling, Louisiana is a small town tucked away in the northern part of the state. It's not
on the beaten path to anywhere and is only relevant because of the college football program
that was built by the legend, Eddie Robinson.

Today, it's in the news because its football players boycotted a game in protest of travel
arrangements, poor facilities, and a coach who was eventually fired. I can't say I'm shocked,
but I am surprised that it didn't happen sooner.

In 1997, I worked as a sports anchor in Shreveport, the closest major city to Grambling
and its university. I must admit, I was anxious to go there for media day in August of that
year, even if it was on a day that was so brutally hot and humid that'd you sweat profusely
from just blinking.

This was Grambling State University, a smaller than smaller football program that had
produced big-time NFL players like Doug Williams, James Harris, Buck Buchanan,
Sammy White, Willie Brown, and Charlie Brown. This was the place where the coach,
Eddie Robinson became an American icon. This was the place where Bruce Jenner starred
in a movie called, "Grambling's White Tiger."

However, this was the place that time forgot.

As I walked to the football facility, I wondered how in the world Grambling recruited
players, much less great ones who would end up in the hall of fame. The place was like a
third-world country, and that's being generous. The grounds were far from the meticulously
groomed ones you see at just about any college in the country these days. High school
football stadiums were better than the one at Grambling and the field resembled that of
a cow pasture.

 

Eddie Robinson, of course, was the main reason any player with an ounce of talent in
the south went to Grambling. He started the football program and coached there for more
than 50 years. He was a man of impeccable character and integrity, teaching his players
more than just football, he taught them about life and gave them the tools and knowledge
to succeed once all the games were over. Robinson was truly special.

After one game, I found myself sitting in his coaches locker room. It was just me and
Eddie Robinson in a room no bigger than a studio apartment in NYC. I have never been
star struck, but I was mesmerized by this 72-year old man and what he had accomplished
in his life.

The grooves in his forehead were like the rings on an oak tree, telling you he had
been around forever and had seen so more than he ever cared to talk about. Robinson
had lived through some hard times as a black man in the south. He had overcome
tremendous obstacles and succeeded in a place where very have before or after him.

Robinson was already a big part of American history, winning more games than any
college coach and I was fascinated. He had slowed down considerably and his mind and
mouth didn't not work in conjunction as they once did, perhaps, it was a prelude to the
Alzheimer's disease he came down with shortly after retiring.

I said to myself, "This is unreal and one of the best moments of my life and career." If
I had a cell phone camera back then, I would've taken a selfie of the two of us. I wanted
something to document this priceless moment of my life. I wanted to show and tell people
that I had a moment with this man. It was one of those times when you say, "I wish somebody
was here to see this."

Just a few days earlier, Robinson had a book signing and I was given a copy as part of
the promotion. I didn't ask Robinson to sign it at the time, I was long past getting autographs.
The last one I ever received was one from Steve Garvey back in 1975. I thought asking
for autographs was ridiculous and it's forbidden as part of a sportscaster job.

But I still had Robinson's book in my bag during our interview and when it was over, I
didn't care about protocol. I wanted this man's autograph. He was history. He was an
icon. He was all things good about college sports. He was truly special.  I asked for his
autograph, Robinson obliged, and I was on my way, stuffing the book back in my bag
so nobody would see it.

I thought about that moment after I heard about the unrest at Grambling this week. I'm sure
the facilities aren't much different from when I was there back in 1997. There are  no
big revenue streams at Grambling and the alumni base doesn't have deep pockets. The
athletic department tries to do their best, but to the players, busing to games 750 miles
away isn't trying hard enough.

I don't think this story is going to end well. When a school cancels a game just days
before the opponent is expecting a big crowd on homecoming, there will be repercussions.
I'm not sure Grambling's football program can survive this. I'm not sure they have the
financial resources to sustain it. And when potential recruits for what is already a
downtrodden program see the unrest at Grambling, they will most likely turn and run
away.

That's a sad thing for a program that was once the little one that could. Now, it's
the little one that can't do anything right.

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13 PEOPLE WHO SHOULD BE ON PLAYOFF COMMITTEE

Condolezza Rice was named as one of the 13 people to sit on the College Football Playoff
committee that will pick the four teams that will play for the national championship starting
in 2014. I admire and respect Rice for her strong background which includes being secretary
of state during  the Bush Administration. Wait a minute, is that really a great accomplishment? Anyway, Rice must have won her office fantasy league pool the last couple of years to get on
this committee. Sadly, this is nothing more than a mindless publicity stunt to get the committee
some attention. If she wasn't on it and there wasn't some controversy, would anybody even know about it?

Also on the committee are: Pat Haden, USC athletic director and former QB, Archie Manning,
college football legend, and Tom Osborne, former Nebraska college legend and A.D. All good
choices. But if I had to pick a team to pick the Final Four of college football, I'd go with this
list.

WILL FERRELL (CHAIRMEN) Unlike Rice, Ferrell really knows his sports. He has played
legends such as Ricky Bobby, Chazz Michael Michaels, and Jackie Moon on the silver screen
and as we saw on "SNL", he is one helluva cheerleader. Ferrell is versatile, intelligent, and
went to USC, a football factory which gives him major credibility.

MIKE DITKA Why "Iron Mike" didn't make the original list is beyond me. Ditka was an
All-American at the University of Pittsburgh and is enshrined in both the College and Pro Football
Hall of Fames. Few are tougher that Ditka, who could break any ties or debates behind closed
doors. Plus, he looks really intelligent with those new glasses he wears on ESPN.

WALTER WHITE Now that "Breaking Bad" is over, White has some free time on his
hands. Who said he was dead? Did you check his pulse? Nothing like a good comeback. The
guy is smart, immoral,  corrupt, and egotistical, which really would make him a perfect fit
for any committee involving the NCAA.

KEVIN PLANK The founder and CEO of Under Armour knows football. He was a walk-on
at Maryland before parlaying his desire for a cotton-free shirt into a sports apparel empire.
Plank is smart, has good sized stones, and has proven that he knows what having a vision is
all about. Plus, the final four teams would be guaranteed to wear the ugliest uniforms in
the history of college football.

SNOOKI If the recently unveiled committee can have Condolezza Rice, why can't Snooki
help choose the best four teams in college football?

BOBBY VALENTINE The guy everybody loves to hate. The man who invented the sandwich
wrap and brought the Red Sox down like the Titanic, was an All-American running back
out of high school and was slated to play football at USC before signing with the Los Angeles Dodgers. He knows everything about everything, including which teams should play for the
NCAA title.

JOHN BOEHNER You say Bay-ner, I say boner, which means he'd fit right in with any
committee affiliated with the NCAA that's in charge of making a playoff system work,
but usually makes a ton of mistakes.

ALEX RODRIQUEZ A-Rod played QB in high school and is a self-proclaimed sports nut.
He's probably going to have some free time on his hands after he loses the appeal for his
suspension for PED's.

PRESIDENT OBAMA His NCAA basketball tournament brackets suck every year, maybe
picking the Final Four in football will be his true calling.

PETE ROSE. Why not?

ROB GRONKOWSKI The Patriots Tight end would be the life of this party. Strippers and
his mantra, "Yo Soy Fiesta" would be the motto of this committee.

POPE FRANCIS You have to have at least one person on the committee with a moral compass
that works.

REBECCA SCHULTE Total dark horse and a big one. The GM of Comcast SportsNet
Baltimore/Washington D.C. didn't do anything to get all the high-ranking positions she
has, which is a talent in and of itself, but she does have some amazing powers, like knowing
what people are doing in a cubicle more than 2,000 miles away.

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WALLY BELL, MAY YOU REST IN PEACE.

It's easy to remember a name like Wally Bell and if you got to know the same one I did,
you'd realize he'd be pretty hard to forget.

Wally Bell passed away on Monday, the victim of an apparent heart attack. He was just
48 years old. Bell lived a good life, spending more than 20 years as a Major League
umpire. getting the opportunity to call a World Series.  When I read about his passing,
I was stunned and saddened because I became  acquainted with Bell during our days in
the Carolina League, he as an umpire with visions of making it to the show, me as a player,
who was just happy as hell to be putting on a  uniform every day that had "Red Sox"
stitched across the front of it.

Back in 1988, Bell was a big, burly kid, with a tremendous presence. I called him the
Buford T. Pusser of the Carolina League. He walked tall and if he carried a big stick, he
definitely would've used it. Bell didn't take anything from anybody. He called them like
hesaw them and kicked you out of the game if you didn't like it.

As a catcher, I was closer to the umpire than any other player on the field. For nearly three
hours every night, you can hear every grunt, groan, and word that comes out of a home
plate umpires mouth. You're so close to them, you can tell what they had for the pre-game
meal and see the stains from the sweat that can drown a man's shirt on those incredibly hot
and humid summer nights in the Carolina League

When Bell was behind the plate, you never had to worry about getting a game that
was called inconsistently. His strike zone didn't waver from game-to-game, or inning-to-
inning, for that matter. The life of minor-league player can be tough, but incredibly brutal
for an umpire. Working in three-man crews, there is not a team bus that takes them from
stadium to stadium in towns that most people don't know existed, and if they did, they
would never care to visit. Instead they have to drive their own cars and sleep in all those
cut-rate hotels that usually have a  6 or 8 on the end of it. Perhaps, one with a red roof if
they decided to splurge.

Bell never took the pain that comes from the miserable life of always being on the road
and living out of suitcases, onto the field. He was professional, powerful, and a person
that you knew had the ingredients to make it to the top of his vocation. Bell was also a
funny man with a quick wit and razor-sharp sarcasm. I remember asking him what the
heck umpires do for fun in the sleepy town of Lynchburg where our minor-league team
was based. "Ah, Lynchburg, Virgina, where the men are men and so are the women,"
I vividly recall him saying. "And the cockroaches at Harvey's Motel are often bigger
than me."

When Bell made it to the big leagues, I was not surprised. And when I heard the announcers
say, ".....and Wally Bell is behind the plate tonight", I would always get a chuckle and say
to myself, "Yeah, he was an umpire in the Carolina League way back when."

When I heard an announcer on ESPN talk about his passing, I was truly saddened. 48 years
old is way to young to die, especially when you're in the middle of a great career as a well-
respected umpire in the major leagues. But I was happy for Wally in that he had done what
so few umpires set out to do while working the "bushes" they call the minor-leagues. It's
a rough road, but Wally Bell made it and he will always be remembered as a great person,
as well as an umpire.

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BOSTON WEAK

Nobody can put doom and gloom into a perfect chamber of commerce day like the fans
of Boston. They live in a world class city, yet sometimes act as if they reside next to Lake
Erie. Their sports teams seem to always play for championships and win most of them, but
they sometimes act as if they've had to watch the Browns, Braves, and Bluejackets their
entire lives.

Living in the moment is as foreign to them as a smile is to the face of Bill Belichick.
They'd rather obsess about the past and complain about the future.

Sunday was a perfect example of all of the above. A day that started like the ball going
through Buckner's legs ended up like one of Adam Vinitieri's kicks sailing through the
uprights as time expired in the Super Bowl.

But in between, Boston fans bitched, moaned, and complained as if the government shutdown
Facebook, Twitter, sports talk radio, iPhones, iPads, and the talent and heart of the Patriots
and Red Sox.

The Patriots were giving for dead against the Saints, especially after their 3-time Super
Bowl winning quarterback threw a terrible interception with under three minutes to
go in the game.

"Tom Brady! WTF? Is it time for the Ryan Mallet era?" tweeted one Boston fan.

"Way to man up, Gronk. If you had played, we would be 6-0.", posted another fan, forgetting
that WE and the Patriots are not one and the same.

Gillette stadium was about about half-empty as fans headed for the exits to beat traffic.

And of course, behind Tom Brady, whose had to throw to receivers smaller than Justin Bieber
and more unreliable than Spicoli, the Patriots pulled off a miraculous comeback, beating
the Saints with five seconds left. Brady to Thompkins was a beautiful thing to watch and that
caused reaction among Boston Strong only when its teams are winning, to change on a dime.

"I'm going to tell my grandkids that Tom Brady is the best QB I ever saw."

"Tom Teriffic! He's the man.",  tweeted that same man who had ripped Tom Brady for throwing
that inexplicable interception.

The Patriots miracle was a prelude to the theatrics at Fenway Park as the Red Sox battled
Detroit in Game 2 of the ALCS. Except there was no battle for most of it. For the second
consecutive  night, the Tigers pitchers were mowing down the Red Sox hitters. Max Scherzer,
like Anibel Sanchez, did in Game 1, took a no-hitter late into the game. Then the tweets started:

"The Red Sox have just run out of gas. It was a good season. At least we still have the Patriots."

Um, the second game of a best-of-seven series isn't through the 7th inning and you think it's
already over? A lot of Red Sox fans did. Even after watching the Patriots comeback and seeing
that a lot of them had left the game early, they did so as well.

Yeah, another Boston Strong fan did:

"In the history of the playoffs, only a few teams after ever lost the first two games at home
and come back to win."

Good, lord. Is everything a stupid stat these days?

Why can't they keep a stat for stupid tweets and posts on Facebook that were made by
Boston fans on Sunday night?

To the fans of the Red Sox, their team was a dead as the Buffalo Bills were when they trailed
35-3 to the Houston Oilers in the 1993 NFL playoffs. They were as dead as the Boston College
football team was to the Miami Hurricanes before Doug Flutie unleashed his "Hail Mary" pass.
They were as dead as the Red Sox were to the Yankees when they trailed 0-3 in the 2004 ALCS.

Boston, hello?!!!

It really is amazing to me that as historical and bright as the fans in Boston are, they seem
to get amnesia about great comebacks when their team is trailing by a few runs in GAME 2
of the playoffs. Game effin 2. The Sox pulled off the greatest comeback in playoff history
that October to a loaded Yankees team and they act like it never happened.

Greatness happened again on Sunday night when David Ortiz, as clutch as any player who
has ever suited up in Boston, tied the game with a grand slam in the 8th inning. The Red Sox
set off pandemonium an inning laser as Jarod Saltalamacchia knocked in the winning run.

What a beautiful moment. What a beautiful day in Boston.

Sunday night was great theatre for baseball and football. Too bad it had to be shared with
fans who live in the past but seem to forget about it.

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TOP 10 THINGS YOU MIGHT FIND IN MIKE NAPOLI'S BEARD

If the Boston Red Sox keep winning, Mike Napoli's beard might grow as long as the ZZ
Top dudes. The thing is starting to look like one of my science projects that got me sent
home in the 7th grade. It's long, it's narly, and to some folks, well, it's just plain nasty. But
it sure seems to be working for Napoli and the Red Sox who are starting to look more like
the boys from the hood in "Deliverance" rather than the "Duck Dynasty.

Here are the Top 10 things you're most likely to find in Napoli's beard.

10. JIMMY HOFFA The FBI has looked everywhere and come up empty in search of

the former teamster's body. Might as well poke around in Napoli's beard for it. Once you
get past the chicken wings and watermelon seeds, you might just discover Hoffa's body.

9.  BILL BELICHICK'S PERSONALITY.  If it's not hiding in Napoli's beard then the

Hoodie's personality may never be found or we just have to come to the realization that he

never had one.

8. THE GUN OF AARON HERNANDEZ.  Well, nobody seems to know where it is,

do they?

7. LANE KIFFIN. Haven't heard or seen Kiffin since he got canned from his job at  USC
in the wee hours of the morning a few weeks ago. I'm sure he'll come out out of Napoli's
forrest when the New York Giants hire him to be their next head coach. The guy ALWAYS
fails up.

6. DAVID ORTIZ' PED'S. Big Papi just seems to be getting better and better as he gets

older and older. It ain't the shoes, Mars, it's ain't the shoes. I think Papi stashes them deep in

the Nappy beard.

5. MANTI TEO's GIRLFRIEND. Don't believe the lies. Lanay Kukua is ALIVE and
she's living comfortably in Napoli's beard.

4. THE MONEY JOHNNY MANZIEL TOOK FOR SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS.
The NCAA looked far and wide and came away with nothing. Should've headed to Boston.
Might've had better lucky finding it underneath the beard made of brillo.

3. BOBBY VALENTINE'S BIKE.  The former manager who brought the Red Sox
down quicker than the Titanic, contacted ownership to see if they could FedEx his bike
to his new digs at Sacred Heart University. No dice. Larry Lucchino couldn't find it. All
signs point to Napoli's beard.

2. THE GOLD MEDALS OF LOLO JONES. What? She didn't win any? Are you
serious?! Well, never mind on that one.

1. CORK AND EMPTY CHAMPAGNE BOTTLES FORM TUESDAY'S CELEBRATION
IN TAMPA BAY.

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'TIS THE SEASON TO CELEBRATE

No athletes celebrate playoff victories like baseball players. It's a time when all the little boy
comes out of grown men and champagne is the most popular drink in the room but hardly ever
consumed. It pops, it flows, and it's sprayed all over each other. It's a moment of jockularity
between a bunch of millionaires who've spent virtually every day of the last seven moments
together. It's a way to let off the stress and steam that comes with playing a grueling schedule
in a pressure cooker.

Victory celebrations are also a time when every baseball player is happy and that alone can be
reason to celebrate for the media gang who covers them day in and day out and have to deal with
a lot of arrogant, petulant, and entitled athletes, and believe me, baseball players are the worst
to be around when things are going good, much less when they are fighting a slump and sports
talk radio is slamming them.

However, as soon as that cork is popped, all is forgotten. Watching Wednesday night's celebration
in the Tampa Bay Rays clubhouse brought back memories of an unforgettable moment for me.
I was there when this downtrodden franchise won the division for the first time back in 2008.
You talk about releasing pent up frustration?! Wow. The Rays celebrated like it was 1999, 2009,
and 2029. They practically blew the top of their visiting clubhouse with a celebration that was
unlike any other I had been around.

No athlete ever says no to an interview whether you're from a network from some po-dunk
television station in market 170. They love everybody at that moment. I was working for
MLB.com when I covered the Rays clinched their first-ever trip to the post-season and I
had a moment that was downright funny as hell.

I was interviewing Evan Longoria, then, a rising superstar and face of the franchise. Longoria
was already a bit liquored up when I started to interview him and he was certainly enjoying
the moment, especially when a few of his teammates ambushed me while I was trying to
conduct the interview.

James Shields, the ace of the staff at the time, started pouring beer down the back of my neck.
It wasn't just any old beer, but beer that was as cold as it could get before freezing. As the song
says, "What's colder than cold? Ice cold!" And it was. You know that feeling you get when you
eat ice cream too fast and you get a brain freeze? Think of that times 1,000.

The interview wasn't live so I could've stopped at any time, but that would've just killed the
moment, which was classic, pure classic. Longoria couldn't keep a straight face as his teammates
continued to drown me in beer and try to throw me off my game. Couldn't do it, though. As
much fun as I was having and as much pain as I was in, I couldn't lose my composure. I wanted
to scream out, "WTF?!!!!!!!" But didn't. It was one of those moments when the joy of what
you were doing overcame the searing pain that was on your brain, thanks to a bunch of players
who were trying to freeze you cryogenically.

It was a hilarious and the video I have of it, will live on long after I've done my final interview
in the business. This is a great time for Major League Baseball. It's a time when grown men
can act like little kids and we can enjoy the game for what it truly is: fun.

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MLB STEROID CHEATS: FANS LOVE 'EM

The fans loves Nelson Cruz in Texas. After serving a 50-game suspension for his role
in the Biogenesis scandal, Rangers fans gave him a standing ovation when he came to the
plate in Monday night's game against Tampa Bay.

They love Marlon Byrd in Pittsburgh. When he was acquired by the Pirates from the Mets
for their post-season run, the fans gave Byrd, who was suspended more than a year for testing
positive for PED's, a standing ovation after he belted a home run in his first game wearing
the black and gold.

They love Jason Giambi in Cleveland. Once a poster boy for steroids and someone who
juiced up to win an MVP and get a $120 million contract, Giambi has been practically
worshipped by Indians fans and his teammates. When he belted a walk-off home run during
the Indians incredible run to the playoffs, Giambi was mobbed by his teammates and given
a standing ovation by the fans.

This just in: Fans don't care really care about steroid-fueled players. As long as those players
help their team win, they could care less who takes a needle in the ass. The media makes
sure that the cheaters wear the scarlet letter for life, but when it comes down to it, nobody
else really gives a hoot.

Nearly every team in the playoffs has players that have been stained in steroid scandals.
Bartolo Colon? Yeah, he got suspended at the end of last year, but the A's re-signed him
and he went 18-6 to help Oakland, which has a tiny payroll win big in AL West. Do you
really think the fans in Oakland care about Colon "tainting" their division title? Hell, no.

Johny Peralta will return to the line-up when Detroit takes the field for the playoffs. He
got outed in the Biogenesis scandal and served a 50-game suspension. If the Tigers go on
to win the World Series, the media will say that the title is "tainted", but do you really think
the Detroit fans, who've been waiting forever for another World Series title, give a flip
about what Peralta did? Yeah, right.

By this point, there have been so many steroid scandals in baseball, fans have become
immune to all the fallout. It's become like the NFL where it's pretty much a given that
everybody outside of quarterbacks and kickers are on something. No defensive lineman
who looks like Arnold Schwarzneggar in his prime and runs a 4.6 forty got that way by
eating steak and eggs for breakfast. Fans don't care. It's a gladiator sport where only the
strong survive.

Thanks to the steroid era in baseball every significant record was shattered by players
juiced up. All the records in the game are meaningless and the fans don't really care about
who is juice up anymore and who is not. And if their team has a player who is and it gives
the team a better chance to win the whole thing, then good for them. It's no skin off the
fans back.

Going back to the late 1980's, nearly every team who won the World Series, from the
Oakland A's to the New York Yankees to the Boston Red Sox, had players who were
on the juice. I've often heard that all the championships those teams have won are "tainted."
People tried to say the same thing about the New England Patriots after the "Spygate"
scandal. Whatever. It's all media driven.

Nobody is tainting a title or taking it away from those who are winning or have won with
players who have cheated.

It professional sports, it's all about winning. For the fans, it always has been and always
will be, no matter who is cheating. And if they are and they can help their team win, the
cheaters will most likely get a standing ovation.

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