Now its Manning vs. Father Time

First appeared on January 21st, 2016
in The Lebanon Reporter


We watch the NFL Playoffs for the exhilaration of an incredible play. This mixed with the world’s strongest men trying to avoid the finality of elimination. Iron faced warriors who, in the face of a crushing defeat, are often reduced to sniveling jellyfish.

After handing the NFL’s all time leading passer a clipboard just a few weeks before, Bronco Head Coach Gary Kubiak had no choice but to bring Peyton Manning out of early retirement Sunday. Despite posting a few dazzling seasons in Denver, Manning has suddenly become nothing short of average. Gone is both the zip from his fastball and killer look in his eyes.

Somehow you expect him to be there year after year having shown absolutely no signs of aging. How soon Father Time’s undefeated record is forgotten. He’s Michael Jordan in a Wizards uniform or Joe Montana as a Chief. And yet, as with Jordan and Montana before, you can’t bring yourself to root against him.

Your break up was incredibly difficult and, in many ways, Manning is that crush you just can’t shake. You’ve seen him at his best and worst and discovered multiple shortcomings, but still some part of you simply won’t let go. You no longer want your current signal caller, but you’re not a Broncos fan and you’re not a bandwagon jumper, which means you’re forced to long from afar.

Watching and wondering how perfect life would be if only he were your quarterback. You’ve tried everything short of therapy to get this crush out of your head. You ordered War and Peace off Amazon and fought your way to page 75. You signed up for a spinning class but soon decided you were getting nowhere and so you quit and joined a gardening club only to discover it’s dormant until Spring; which leaves only football.

So you wound up in front of the television Sunday as Denver met up with Pittsburgh convinced you were watching your crush playing his last game. He was the wounded wildebeest and Pittsburgh would play the swift and powerful lion. This wouldn’t take long. One quick swipe of a fore paw and Manning would be down, never to rise again.

And as one duck after another flew forth from his hands, Manning looked increasingly shell-shocked as the Broncos sputtered into the Fourth Quarter trailing. But then, just as the Steelers appeared ready to pounce and the beat writers were preparing his obit, Manning stood tall on a 3rd and 12 to deliver an absolute strike to Bennie Fowler for a 31 yard gain. To this point it marks the play that saved Denver’s season.

I still remember where I was when Kirk Gibson hobbled up to the plate and homered in the World Series against Oakland. Father time having stolen his luster and both knees. It was an ordinary moment sharing pizza with a brother who’d just returned from Germany until Gibson’s improbable home run burned it forever into my brain.

The smell of that pizza and grease on my fingers remain fresh thirty years later. That’s where we are with Manning. He’s Kirk Gibson struggling to the plate, a shell of what he was. No longer the imposing slugger, Manning still remains as good once as he ever was (thanks Toby) and he’s more than capable of offering up a forever moment.

And that’s why we watch. We hang on for those moments, be they good, bad or indifferent. Sunday has all the markings of a game that will undoubtedly provide such a moment. What remains to be seen is can Manning stave off Father Time for one more chance, or is this the end of the line for your old flame?

© 2016 Eric Walker Williams

The race for a Big Ten Title is on!

First appeared on January 8, 2016
in The Lebanon Reporter

The Big Ten men’s basketball season is upon us. Let us rejoice together. Let us sing for joy and shout it from the mountaintops. Let us speak with the voice of a Trump so that all may hear, no matter where they are and no matter if they really don't want to hear it at all.

The gates are down and the horses are off. There’s Bucky Badger, usually a heavy favorite, limping his way into turn one. Bruised and beaten, Bucky has lost his jockey, a normally fiery taskmaster who chose to jump ship in midrace. Bucky came so close to the winner’s circle last year, so close the taskmaster went all Brett Favre on the college basketball world. I’m done, I’m back, I’m done again.

Meanwhile, after many years reigning king over the middle of the pack, Purdue Pete was an early favorite until he stubbed his toe at home Saturday against Iowa. And this was no run of the mill, dark house, middle of the night toe stubbing. No, this one came after amassing a seventeen point halftime lead on the day the school honored the most iconic Boilermaker of all time. Nice timing Pete.

Compounding matters for the Black and Gold, Purdue’s sworn nemesis, the Hurryin’ Hoosiers of Indiana, are in a full gait, galloping out to a 3-0 start in conference play. Largely a product of the scheduling gods, Indiana’s fast start has them sitting atop the standings with four other unbeatens.

Unfortunately the Hoosiers fortunes turned bleak when news of talented scorer James Blackmon Jr.’s season ending surgery broke. This, coupled with Indiana’s reluctance to enter into a committed relationship with the defensive end of the floor, will make it hard to win consistently. In fact, Tom Crean’s Hoosiers competing for a Conference Title this year would be a lot like a Presidential candidate openly bad mouthing women, slandering an entire religion and masterfully deflecting attention away from every question he’s ever been asked. I mean, no chance, right?

So the Hoosiers knock off the Badgers in one of the ugliest games since the birth of the shot clock and you decide that was so bad you're swearing off basketball; if only you could turn the channel. Lying on the couch, your arm extends for a remote that lingers just out of reach and a small part of you fully believes that, if you concentrate long and hard enough, the force will allow you to raise it up and bring it into your hands. The talking heads in their sharp cut suits and ridiculous ties bloviate unabashedly about Michigan State. “They’re 14-1 for a reason”, “They’re the best team in the conference and the country!” No matter where you turn, it would seem you simply can’t escape Sparty.

Throngs appear on the television, screaming for more. They wear his tee-shirts and stand in long lines waiting for him, all the while refusing to acknowledge there are other teams in the conference. Other teams that may be just as good and just as qualified, perhaps some more so, but Sparty drowns them out every time.

Let the late night guys drag him through the mud like a tractor pull sled, Sparty will march on undaunted as the crowds swell, clamoring for more. Poor Minnesota and Rutgers can barely get people through the door as Sparty is busy playing to a packed house every night.
And with Sparty jet-setting his way through the college basketball world, you’re left stuck in the muck and mire of post game analysis, wondering if Sparty isn’t just a product of media hype as the remote remains in the middle of the coffee table, thumbs in its ears and tongue sticking out. Disgusted with the world, you’re left to roll over, turning your back on that elusive remote and all this incessant Sparty talk.

© 2016 Eric Walker Williams