It's no secret that Fox baseball analyst (and former all-star catcher) Tim McCarver is not hugely popular among fans of the San Francisco Giants. Either that, or it's simply that my esteemed colleague Stan Bunger has complained so much about McCarver, for so many years, that I've concluded he speaks for the majority of his fellow Giants' season ticket holders.
I, on the other hand, have no particular axe to grind with Mr. McCarver. He's not my favorite TV baseball analyst, by any means, but I don't wince in the slightest when I see that McCarver is in the broadcast booth for a network game I'm about to watch.
Having said that, McCarver made so many interesting observations--some actually true--particularly during the first few innings of game 2 of the National League Championship Series, that I decided to chronicle those observations, and perhaps come to some conclusion afterward.
Top of the first: After Matt Holliday's controversial slide over second base (he actually started the slide beyond the bag), in a successful effort to take out the Giants' Marco Scutaro and prevent the double play, McCarver immediately said that Holliday's slide was an inappropriate slide, if not technically illegal. McCarver said that breaking up the double-play is as old as baseball itself, but that one is supposed to begin one's slide before reaching the bag, not after. Sounds obvious, I'm sure, but almost instantly after the bang-bang play, seeing Scutaro on the ground in obvious pain, it was reassuring to hear from McCarver that what I had just seen was not the way the game is supposed to be played.
Bottom of the first: As Angel Pagan was rounding the bases, after belting a leadoff homer, he was congratulated by third base coach Tim Flannery, after which he saluted his teammates in the Giants' dugout. McCarver incorrectly observed that Pagan had just saluted the Cardinals' dugout, perhaps in response to the Holliday slide. Oooops! McCarver's play-by-play partner Joe Buck eventually corrected him, but not before leaving him out to dry for a minute or so.
Chris Carpenter gave up only the one run in the first, but labored to the point of throwing 26 pitches, during which McCarver noted that he was off three-to-four miles on his fastball. Good piece of information, and a sign that this might not be Carpenter's night.
As the Giants were continuing to bat in the last of the first, putting runners at first and second, with two out, McCarver noticed Ryan Vogelsong pacing in the Giants' dugout, and said that Vogelsong was doing so because he was excited about the rally, and hoping that the Giants would keep the inning going as long as possible. In fact, as anyone who is familiar with Vogelsong knows, the Giants' right-hander was thinking about only one thing, and that was how he was going to pitch to the Cardinals in the second inning. Vogelsong has often said that he would prefer to take the mound as quickly as possible after each half inning in the dugout, that he has no control over how many runs the Giants score, and that the one and only thing he can control is shutting down the opposing team. So that is the only thing he is focused on while he's still in the game.
Top of the third: Before the inning began, three or four umpires were conversing in the outfield, including the crew chief Gary Darling. McCarver immediately speculated that they might be discussing what their response should be in case the Giants retaliate against Holliday for the slide. Good call. I was wondering what they were discussing, and McCarver brought up a good possibility.
Top of the fourth: As the discussion of the Holliday slide continued, McCarver suggested that the only way to firmly discourage such a slide would be to immediately eject the player from the game. A more common reaction by umpires in such a situation would be declare the hitter out, completing the double play, which they did not do after the Holliday slide, much to my surprise. But McCarver was saying that in addition to that, throwing the offending player out of the game would be much more effective in the long run.
Bottom of the eighth: After Gregor Blanco was nearly doubled up trying to get back to first base when Brandon Crawford lined out to center, the Cardinal infielders were yelling at umpire Bill Miller that first baseman Allen Craig had tagged Blanco out on the shoulder. It was obvious that is what they were saying because of their gestures. And yet, McCarver said the Cardinals were arguing that Blanco should have been called out for running out of the imaginary base line.
Overall, McCarver made a few mistakes, but that's inevitable for anyone who spends three hours in a broadcast booth, announcing a baseball game. I know, from experience. Should he make fewer, given his many years of experience? Perhaps. But McCarver made enough cogent observations so that I was able to further appreciate and understand some of the nuances of this particular game that I might not have been able to otherwise.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Sunday, July 1, 2012
ABSURD
I hope the San Francisco Giants are proud of their collective efforts to stuff the ballot box. Pablo Sandoval has been named the National League's starting third-baseman for the upcoming all-star game, over the Mets' David Wright. This, despite the fact that Wright has nine homers, 50 RBIs and a .355 average, compared with Sandoval's 6-25-.307. Not even close. Yes, I know it's nothing more than a ballot-stuffing popularity contest. But it shouldn't be. The fans who love baseball will watch the all-star game, whether they cast any votes or not. I should know. I was one of those fans as a kid, when the fans had no such vote. Guys like David Wright should be rewarded with their first-half achievements by being in the game's starting lineup.
At least Brandon Belt and Brandon Crawford (with all due respect) failed to beat out Joey Votto and Rafael Furcal, respectively, at first and at short. I guess the Giants should have done more. Belt and Crawford only finished second, in contrast to Freddy Sanchez, who finished fourth in the voting at second, even though he hasn't played in a single major league game all season. Isn't that a clue, in itself, that something is wrong here?
When I was a kid, players, coaches and managers picked the starters. Nobody was a bigger fan of the game than I was, and I was fine with their selections, mainly because the selection process was fair and square, and it was hard to argue with the selections.
Prior to that, though, the fans actually did the voting, long before the internet. In fact, fans were given the vote as far back as 1947, but lost it after seven members of the Cincinnati Reds were voted to the starting lineup, leaving Stan Musial as the only non-Reds starter. The culprit, it turned out, was not the team itself, but rather the Cincinnati Enquirer, which printed pre-marked ballots and distributed them in their Sunday newspapers. The result was that over half the ballots cast in the National League came from Cincinnati. Major League Baseball immediately stripped the fans of the vote, beginning in 1958, and gave it to the players, coaches and managers. But in 1970, in a brilliant pandering...err, marketing ploy by MLB, the vote was returned to the fans. And this is the result: Instead of the players, coaches and managers picking the starters, the biggest contributors are those with enough free time on their hands to be able to submit hundreds and hundreds of ballots for their hometown heroes. In other words, people with no lives. I'm not being cruel here--those are the exact words of a caller to the Giants' flagship radio station, who admitted he voted over 800 times for Brandon Belt, because (and I'm paraphrasing here), "I live alone, have no life, and love the Giants." Wonderful! It's great when our beloved institutions appeal to the lowest common denominator.
Personally, I wish Brandon Belt and Brandon Crawford had made it as starters, just to further illustrate the folly of this. Maybe then, MLB (and the Giants) would be embarrassed enough to think twice about what it has created. Then again, probably not.
At least Brandon Belt and Brandon Crawford (with all due respect) failed to beat out Joey Votto and Rafael Furcal, respectively, at first and at short. I guess the Giants should have done more. Belt and Crawford only finished second, in contrast to Freddy Sanchez, who finished fourth in the voting at second, even though he hasn't played in a single major league game all season. Isn't that a clue, in itself, that something is wrong here?
When I was a kid, players, coaches and managers picked the starters. Nobody was a bigger fan of the game than I was, and I was fine with their selections, mainly because the selection process was fair and square, and it was hard to argue with the selections.
Prior to that, though, the fans actually did the voting, long before the internet. In fact, fans were given the vote as far back as 1947, but lost it after seven members of the Cincinnati Reds were voted to the starting lineup, leaving Stan Musial as the only non-Reds starter. The culprit, it turned out, was not the team itself, but rather the Cincinnati Enquirer, which printed pre-marked ballots and distributed them in their Sunday newspapers. The result was that over half the ballots cast in the National League came from Cincinnati. Major League Baseball immediately stripped the fans of the vote, beginning in 1958, and gave it to the players, coaches and managers. But in 1970, in a brilliant pandering...err, marketing ploy by MLB, the vote was returned to the fans. And this is the result: Instead of the players, coaches and managers picking the starters, the biggest contributors are those with enough free time on their hands to be able to submit hundreds and hundreds of ballots for their hometown heroes. In other words, people with no lives. I'm not being cruel here--those are the exact words of a caller to the Giants' flagship radio station, who admitted he voted over 800 times for Brandon Belt, because (and I'm paraphrasing here), "I live alone, have no life, and love the Giants." Wonderful! It's great when our beloved institutions appeal to the lowest common denominator.
Personally, I wish Brandon Belt and Brandon Crawford had made it as starters, just to further illustrate the folly of this. Maybe then, MLB (and the Giants) would be embarrassed enough to think twice about what it has created. Then again, probably not.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
So Close
It hit me after the second Kyle Williams turnover that Ted Ginn Junior might have been the MVP of the NFC Championship game loss to the New York Giants. After all, if Ginn hadn't been unavailable because of a knee injury, Williams would not have been returning punts, and who knows what the outcome would have been?
It's highly unfortunate for Williams that he has to live with the knowledge that he, more than anyone else or anything else, cost the 49ers the game. But the fact remains that Ginn is a better player, and the Niners would have been better off if he had been able to play, even without the turnovers. Ginn was third in the NFL this season in kick returns, averaging 27.6 per. And he was fourth in punt returns, averaging 12.3 He also was fourth on the Niners in receptions, with 33, averaging 11.6 a catch.
Interestingly, Ginn was the MVP of the 49ers first game of the season, when he returned a kick 102 yards for a TD late in the 4th quarter against Seattle, and then returned a punt 55 yards for another TD 59 seconds later, clinching a 33-17 win.
If not Ginn, it was the 49er defense. Ranked number one in the NFL against the run, allowing an average of just 77 yards per game, the defense was such a threat against the run that in the playoffs, the Saints' Drew Brees and the Giants' Eli Manning combined for an astonishing 121 passes. That's unheard of. Completely.
The Niners' D was on the field for 58% of the game against the Giants, who ran 93 plays, compared with the NFL average per team of 69. The Niners sacked Manning six times, and hit him seven times, according to Pro Football Focus.
The Giants had eight possessions in the second half and overtime, and punted six times. The other two possessions followed the Kyle Williams' turnovers, deep in 49ers territory, resulting in the Giants only 10 points after halftime.
The Niners hadn't had a special teams turnover until the NFC title game. They led the NFL in turnover differential during the season at +28, and in fewest turnovers allowed, with 10.
They came oh-so-close to forcing three Giants' turnovers, but two seemingly inevitable interceptions didn't come to pass when the Niner defensive backs ran into each other, late in the game. And an Ahmad Bradshaw fumble, at the Giants 21, with barely two minutes left in regulation, recovered by the 49ers, was negated by a quick whistle.
The Niner offense, meantime, couldn't measure up to its defense. The Niners were 1-for-13 on third-down conversions, and the only one they converted was a meaningless 29-yard pass on the final play of the fourth quarter. Their final three possessions of the fourth quarter and overtime (other than that meaningless first down) were three-and-out.
And given that Alex Smith completed only one pass to a wide receiver, for three yards (compared with 16 completions to NY receivers), I couldn't help but wonder more than once, couldn't Braylan Edwards have helped, if the Niners hadn't released him, before their regular season finale at St. Louis? Even then, I wondered, why release him then? What if they needed him in the playoffs? Turned out they did, after the injury to Ted Ginn Junior.
It's highly unfortunate for Williams that he has to live with the knowledge that he, more than anyone else or anything else, cost the 49ers the game. But the fact remains that Ginn is a better player, and the Niners would have been better off if he had been able to play, even without the turnovers. Ginn was third in the NFL this season in kick returns, averaging 27.6 per. And he was fourth in punt returns, averaging 12.3 He also was fourth on the Niners in receptions, with 33, averaging 11.6 a catch.
Interestingly, Ginn was the MVP of the 49ers first game of the season, when he returned a kick 102 yards for a TD late in the 4th quarter against Seattle, and then returned a punt 55 yards for another TD 59 seconds later, clinching a 33-17 win.
If not Ginn, it was the 49er defense. Ranked number one in the NFL against the run, allowing an average of just 77 yards per game, the defense was such a threat against the run that in the playoffs, the Saints' Drew Brees and the Giants' Eli Manning combined for an astonishing 121 passes. That's unheard of. Completely.
The Niners' D was on the field for 58% of the game against the Giants, who ran 93 plays, compared with the NFL average per team of 69. The Niners sacked Manning six times, and hit him seven times, according to Pro Football Focus.
The Giants had eight possessions in the second half and overtime, and punted six times. The other two possessions followed the Kyle Williams' turnovers, deep in 49ers territory, resulting in the Giants only 10 points after halftime.
The Niners hadn't had a special teams turnover until the NFC title game. They led the NFL in turnover differential during the season at +28, and in fewest turnovers allowed, with 10.
They came oh-so-close to forcing three Giants' turnovers, but two seemingly inevitable interceptions didn't come to pass when the Niner defensive backs ran into each other, late in the game. And an Ahmad Bradshaw fumble, at the Giants 21, with barely two minutes left in regulation, recovered by the 49ers, was negated by a quick whistle.
The Niner offense, meantime, couldn't measure up to its defense. The Niners were 1-for-13 on third-down conversions, and the only one they converted was a meaningless 29-yard pass on the final play of the fourth quarter. Their final three possessions of the fourth quarter and overtime (other than that meaningless first down) were three-and-out.
And given that Alex Smith completed only one pass to a wide receiver, for three yards (compared with 16 completions to NY receivers), I couldn't help but wonder more than once, couldn't Braylan Edwards have helped, if the Niners hadn't released him, before their regular season finale at St. Louis? Even then, I wondered, why release him then? What if they needed him in the playoffs? Turned out they did, after the injury to Ted Ginn Junior.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Fiesta Bowl Epilogue
Watching the Fiesta Bowl was akin to enjoying a fabulous piece of Kobe beef, only to suddenly regurgitate at the end of the meal because of some unexpected cause of indigestion.
Fourth-ranked Stanford never trailed through four quarters against third-ranked Oklahoma State, and yet failed to win the game, eventually losing 41-38 in overtime.
The Cardinal led led 14-0, but the Cowboys tied it at 14. Stanford led 21-14, 28-21, 31-24 and 38-31, but OSU came back to tie it three more times. And then Stanford had the ball for one final drive, 80 yards from the endzone, with two-and-a-half minutes remaining. What a perfect, storybook scenario for quarterback Andrew Luck. Certainly, most Cardinal fans, including head coach David Shaw, envisioned Luck leading Stanford down the field, climaxing one of his best collegiate games ever with one final drive, giving Stanford the Fiesta Bowl win. What could have been better than that?
Sure enough, Luck completed five straight passes, for 50 yards, sandwiched around one running play, resulting in a first down at the OSU 25, with 52 seconds remaining. What could possibly go wrong? Luck was 15-f0r-15 in Stanford's five touchdown drives. He threw only four incompletions all night, and none since the second quarter. He hadn't thrown an interception in the red zone all season. But it was at this point that Coach Shaw took the ball out of Luck's hands, and instead give it to his freshman kicker Jordan Williamson. Two running plays got eight yards, and then Shaw let the clock run down to the final three seconds before calling a timeout.
If you were watching on TV, you may have noticed Williamson sitting on the sideline before the timeout, head down, eyes closed, probably trying to calm his nerves. Then he took the field for a 35-yard field goal attempt, but before he got the chance to kick it, the Cowboys called time out. Williamson again closed his eyes. He breathed deeply again. And then came the indigestion. Williamson badly hooked the kick. And then he missed a 43-yard attempt in overtime, after missing a 41-yarder in the first quarter, before booting a kickoff out of bounds early in the fourth quarter. Keep in mind that Williamson suffered a torn groin muscle in late October, missed three games, returned for the Cal and Notre Dame games, kicking a 35-yarder, but missing his other two kicks, from 33 and 49 yards.
He was hardly on a roll heading into the Fiesta Bowl. By contrast, Andrew Luck was money. He nearly won the Heisman Trophy. He will probably be the first pick in the NFL Draft in April. He is the guy that Shaw has often called the greatest college quarterback he's ever seen. And yet, with the game on the line--the biggest bowl game Stanford had played since the back-to-back Rose Bowls in 1971 and '72--Shaw felt Stanford had its best chance of winning the game with a hardly invincible freshman kicker, from 35 yards out, with Andrew Luck watching from the sideline. I just don't understand it.
Please don't get me wrong. I think David Shaw is a great coach. I love the job he did in his first season with Stanford. I think he was the perfect choice to succeed Jim Harbaugh. I like him personally very much. He has been great with KCBS, giving us one-on-one interviews every Tuesday during the season, and giving us very thoughtful answers in the process. It's just that with this one particular decision, I think he made a grave mistake, and I'm far from alone in that thought. Furthermore, I think if he left the ball in Luck's hands, and if Luck failed to get the win, it would have been far easier for everyone associated with Stanford to live with. Go with your best, and let the chips fall where they may. Again, this wasn't a chip shot field goal attempt. And this wasn't a collegiate-version of David Akers doing the kicking. At least not yet.
After the game, Shaw insisted his strategy was sound. He said Stanford's strength was its running game, as evidenced by the team's 243 yards rushing. He's right, although let's not forget that Luck finished a remarkable 27-of-31 for 347 yards, and did not throw a single interception in the red zone all season. But if you want to stick with the running game, at least go for the first down on 3rd-and-two, instead of letting the clock run down to the final three seconds. You've averaged nearly five yards a carry all evening. Get a first down, then use at least a couple of more plays to get closer. Do that, and that poor freshman kicker might be looking at a 20 or 25-yarder than a 35-yarder. That would have done wonders for his confidence.
By contrast, after Williamson's third and final miss, to begin the overtime, when OSU had a second-and-10 at the Stanford 25, head coach Mike Gundy went for the jugular. His quarterback Brandon Weeden hit Colton Chelf over the middle for 24 yards, and that decided the game.
Again, I have nothing but respect and admiration for David Shaw, both for the human being he is, and for the head coach he has become. I just think he should have left the ball in Andrew Luck's hands, with a win in sight, at the end of regulation. I've seen too many last-second field goal attempts go awry, particularly that middle-distance kick. But I haven't seen many college quarterbacks like Andrew Luck.
Fourth-ranked Stanford never trailed through four quarters against third-ranked Oklahoma State, and yet failed to win the game, eventually losing 41-38 in overtime.
The Cardinal led led 14-0, but the Cowboys tied it at 14. Stanford led 21-14, 28-21, 31-24 and 38-31, but OSU came back to tie it three more times. And then Stanford had the ball for one final drive, 80 yards from the endzone, with two-and-a-half minutes remaining. What a perfect, storybook scenario for quarterback Andrew Luck. Certainly, most Cardinal fans, including head coach David Shaw, envisioned Luck leading Stanford down the field, climaxing one of his best collegiate games ever with one final drive, giving Stanford the Fiesta Bowl win. What could have been better than that?
Sure enough, Luck completed five straight passes, for 50 yards, sandwiched around one running play, resulting in a first down at the OSU 25, with 52 seconds remaining. What could possibly go wrong? Luck was 15-f0r-15 in Stanford's five touchdown drives. He threw only four incompletions all night, and none since the second quarter. He hadn't thrown an interception in the red zone all season. But it was at this point that Coach Shaw took the ball out of Luck's hands, and instead give it to his freshman kicker Jordan Williamson. Two running plays got eight yards, and then Shaw let the clock run down to the final three seconds before calling a timeout.
If you were watching on TV, you may have noticed Williamson sitting on the sideline before the timeout, head down, eyes closed, probably trying to calm his nerves. Then he took the field for a 35-yard field goal attempt, but before he got the chance to kick it, the Cowboys called time out. Williamson again closed his eyes. He breathed deeply again. And then came the indigestion. Williamson badly hooked the kick. And then he missed a 43-yard attempt in overtime, after missing a 41-yarder in the first quarter, before booting a kickoff out of bounds early in the fourth quarter. Keep in mind that Williamson suffered a torn groin muscle in late October, missed three games, returned for the Cal and Notre Dame games, kicking a 35-yarder, but missing his other two kicks, from 33 and 49 yards.
He was hardly on a roll heading into the Fiesta Bowl. By contrast, Andrew Luck was money. He nearly won the Heisman Trophy. He will probably be the first pick in the NFL Draft in April. He is the guy that Shaw has often called the greatest college quarterback he's ever seen. And yet, with the game on the line--the biggest bowl game Stanford had played since the back-to-back Rose Bowls in 1971 and '72--Shaw felt Stanford had its best chance of winning the game with a hardly invincible freshman kicker, from 35 yards out, with Andrew Luck watching from the sideline. I just don't understand it.
Please don't get me wrong. I think David Shaw is a great coach. I love the job he did in his first season with Stanford. I think he was the perfect choice to succeed Jim Harbaugh. I like him personally very much. He has been great with KCBS, giving us one-on-one interviews every Tuesday during the season, and giving us very thoughtful answers in the process. It's just that with this one particular decision, I think he made a grave mistake, and I'm far from alone in that thought. Furthermore, I think if he left the ball in Luck's hands, and if Luck failed to get the win, it would have been far easier for everyone associated with Stanford to live with. Go with your best, and let the chips fall where they may. Again, this wasn't a chip shot field goal attempt. And this wasn't a collegiate-version of David Akers doing the kicking. At least not yet.
After the game, Shaw insisted his strategy was sound. He said Stanford's strength was its running game, as evidenced by the team's 243 yards rushing. He's right, although let's not forget that Luck finished a remarkable 27-of-31 for 347 yards, and did not throw a single interception in the red zone all season. But if you want to stick with the running game, at least go for the first down on 3rd-and-two, instead of letting the clock run down to the final three seconds. You've averaged nearly five yards a carry all evening. Get a first down, then use at least a couple of more plays to get closer. Do that, and that poor freshman kicker might be looking at a 20 or 25-yarder than a 35-yarder. That would have done wonders for his confidence.
By contrast, after Williamson's third and final miss, to begin the overtime, when OSU had a second-and-10 at the Stanford 25, head coach Mike Gundy went for the jugular. His quarterback Brandon Weeden hit Colton Chelf over the middle for 24 yards, and that decided the game.
Again, I have nothing but respect and admiration for David Shaw, both for the human being he is, and for the head coach he has become. I just think he should have left the ball in Andrew Luck's hands, with a win in sight, at the end of regulation. I've seen too many last-second field goal attempts go awry, particularly that middle-distance kick. But I haven't seen many college quarterbacks like Andrew Luck.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
No Faith!
First, this reality: I'm not a Monday Morning Quarterback. I subscribe to the John Madden philosophy that you can't second-guess a coach's, manager's or player's decision on the playing field, after the fact. But if you question it, as it's happening, then you deserve to be heard. So hear me out on this one.
The 49ers were leading Dallas this afternoon 21-14, when David Akers kicked a 55-yard field goal with 11 minutes remaining in the game. The Niners had a 10-point lead. However, the Cowboys' Keith Brooking was flagged for "leverage," which would have given the Niners a first down at the Dallas 22, if Jim Harbaugh were willing to forsake the field goal, in exchange for the first down. In my mind, it was a no-brainer: Accept the penalty, go for the touchdown (and a 14-point lead), while also eating up the clock. If you can't get the TD, then kick the field goal (again), and you'll have the 10-point lead you would have had earlier anyway, but with less time remaining for Dallas to score twice. Yes, it was something of a risk. What if Alex Smith threw an interception, or fumbled the ball away on a sack? I suppose that's why Harbaugh took the 55-yard field goal and a 10-point lead.
But what message did that send to his offense? It told the offense that the head coach had little faith in its ability to get the job done with the game on the line.
To reiterate: WIth a first down at the Dallas 22, one of the following would eventually happen:
1. The 49ers would score a touchdown, while eating up time on the clock.
2. The 49ers would settle for a field goal, while eating up time on the clock.
3. The 49ers would fail to score.
If you, as a head coach, have any faith in your offense, you will assume that you'll come away with either a TD or a field goal, in which case you'll be better off than you would have been by declining the penalty, and taking the original 55-yard field goal, because you'll be ahead by 14 instead of 10, or you'll be ahead by 10, either way with less time remaining on the clock.
Vernon Davis said that he was surprised Harbaugh took the field goal, and declined the penalty. He wasn't the only one. On the Fox telecast, former Baltimore Ravens head coach Brian Billick started explaining why Harbaugh was going to take the penalty, rather than the automatic three points. But he had to stop, because Harbaugh took the points instead. And I suspect many other 49er players were surprised as well. And disappointed.
In fact, though, Harbaugh would demonstrate another case (albeit less controversial) of a lack of faith in his offense early in the overtime, not to mention very questionable judgement. The Niners won the coin toss and picked up a quick first down at their own 32. Frank Gore then ran up the middle for seven yards, giving them a second-and-three. Now, what would you do with a second-and-three at your own 39 in overtime? I would run the ball on second down, and possibly on third, if necessary, to gain the three yards. Get the first down, and you're about 20 yards away from a potential game-winning field goal attempt.
But Harbaugh called for a pass, and Smith was sacked. Now it's third-and-11. Smith then hit Ted Ginn Jr for 10, creating a fourth-and-one, at their own 41. What did Harbaugh then do? He brought on his punting team. Now, don't get me wrong. I think, in some cases, when your defense is dominating, when you're winning the battle on the line of scrimmage, you're completely right in punting the ball from your own 41, on fourth-and-one. But the Niners defense was sagging, having already given up 400 yards of Dallas offense. Put another way, if you're a 49ers fan, and you were watching the game at that point, did you really think the Niners D could stop Tony Romo, once you punted the ball away? I didn't think so.
As it turned out, the 10-yard pass to Ginn was reversed, because replays showed he didn't have possession. So it became fourth-and-11, and a moot point. And, of course, Romo threw a 77-yard pass over the middle to set up the game-winning 19-yard field goal on the very next play. Game over.
After an extremely conservative offensive showing in the 49ers' season-opening win over Seattle, I totally expected Harbaugh to open things up against Dallas. But he really didn't. Gore averaged just 2.4 yards per carry, and is under three yards per, for the season. Smith passed for 179 yards, but when one includes the six times he was sacked, the Niners' totaled just 132 yards of passing. Overall, they barely topped 200 yards of offense for the game, as they also did against Seattle. By contrast, Dallas totaled 472 yards. Again, did you really think the Niners defense was going to stop Romo, once the Cowboys got the ball back in overtime? Of course not.
When we all thought it was fourth-and-one, I wanted Harbaugh to go for it. If it failed, and the Niners lost, I would not have second-guessed him in the slightest.
For this fan, his conservative approach is very disappointing. I'd rather see him take risks, even if it means losing. Today, I think his failure to take the necessary risk, early in the fourth quarter, helped cost his team the game.
Is this the same daring, creative and imaginative Jim Harbaugh, who coached Stanford to a 12-1 record, and a number-four national ranking last season? Yes, of course it is. I think Harbaugh just doesn't have enough faith in this 49er offense to use any goodies in his bag of tricks. How unfortunate.
The 49ers were leading Dallas this afternoon 21-14, when David Akers kicked a 55-yard field goal with 11 minutes remaining in the game. The Niners had a 10-point lead. However, the Cowboys' Keith Brooking was flagged for "leverage," which would have given the Niners a first down at the Dallas 22, if Jim Harbaugh were willing to forsake the field goal, in exchange for the first down. In my mind, it was a no-brainer: Accept the penalty, go for the touchdown (and a 14-point lead), while also eating up the clock. If you can't get the TD, then kick the field goal (again), and you'll have the 10-point lead you would have had earlier anyway, but with less time remaining for Dallas to score twice. Yes, it was something of a risk. What if Alex Smith threw an interception, or fumbled the ball away on a sack? I suppose that's why Harbaugh took the 55-yard field goal and a 10-point lead.
But what message did that send to his offense? It told the offense that the head coach had little faith in its ability to get the job done with the game on the line.
To reiterate: WIth a first down at the Dallas 22, one of the following would eventually happen:
1. The 49ers would score a touchdown, while eating up time on the clock.
2. The 49ers would settle for a field goal, while eating up time on the clock.
3. The 49ers would fail to score.
If you, as a head coach, have any faith in your offense, you will assume that you'll come away with either a TD or a field goal, in which case you'll be better off than you would have been by declining the penalty, and taking the original 55-yard field goal, because you'll be ahead by 14 instead of 10, or you'll be ahead by 10, either way with less time remaining on the clock.
Vernon Davis said that he was surprised Harbaugh took the field goal, and declined the penalty. He wasn't the only one. On the Fox telecast, former Baltimore Ravens head coach Brian Billick started explaining why Harbaugh was going to take the penalty, rather than the automatic three points. But he had to stop, because Harbaugh took the points instead. And I suspect many other 49er players were surprised as well. And disappointed.
In fact, though, Harbaugh would demonstrate another case (albeit less controversial) of a lack of faith in his offense early in the overtime, not to mention very questionable judgement. The Niners won the coin toss and picked up a quick first down at their own 32. Frank Gore then ran up the middle for seven yards, giving them a second-and-three. Now, what would you do with a second-and-three at your own 39 in overtime? I would run the ball on second down, and possibly on third, if necessary, to gain the three yards. Get the first down, and you're about 20 yards away from a potential game-winning field goal attempt.
But Harbaugh called for a pass, and Smith was sacked. Now it's third-and-11. Smith then hit Ted Ginn Jr for 10, creating a fourth-and-one, at their own 41. What did Harbaugh then do? He brought on his punting team. Now, don't get me wrong. I think, in some cases, when your defense is dominating, when you're winning the battle on the line of scrimmage, you're completely right in punting the ball from your own 41, on fourth-and-one. But the Niners defense was sagging, having already given up 400 yards of Dallas offense. Put another way, if you're a 49ers fan, and you were watching the game at that point, did you really think the Niners D could stop Tony Romo, once you punted the ball away? I didn't think so.
As it turned out, the 10-yard pass to Ginn was reversed, because replays showed he didn't have possession. So it became fourth-and-11, and a moot point. And, of course, Romo threw a 77-yard pass over the middle to set up the game-winning 19-yard field goal on the very next play. Game over.
After an extremely conservative offensive showing in the 49ers' season-opening win over Seattle, I totally expected Harbaugh to open things up against Dallas. But he really didn't. Gore averaged just 2.4 yards per carry, and is under three yards per, for the season. Smith passed for 179 yards, but when one includes the six times he was sacked, the Niners' totaled just 132 yards of passing. Overall, they barely topped 200 yards of offense for the game, as they also did against Seattle. By contrast, Dallas totaled 472 yards. Again, did you really think the Niners defense was going to stop Romo, once the Cowboys got the ball back in overtime? Of course not.
When we all thought it was fourth-and-one, I wanted Harbaugh to go for it. If it failed, and the Niners lost, I would not have second-guessed him in the slightest.
For this fan, his conservative approach is very disappointing. I'd rather see him take risks, even if it means losing. Today, I think his failure to take the necessary risk, early in the fourth quarter, helped cost his team the game.
Is this the same daring, creative and imaginative Jim Harbaugh, who coached Stanford to a 12-1 record, and a number-four national ranking last season? Yes, of course it is. I think Harbaugh just doesn't have enough faith in this 49er offense to use any goodies in his bag of tricks. How unfortunate.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Another Umpire Blunder; Another Call for Instant Replay
If you saw the finish of the Pirates-Braves game last night in Atlanta, you know exactly why there is no rational argument for putting off the expanded use of instant replay in baseball any longer. And yet, if you are a close follower of the National Pastime, you know that this will likely never happen as long as Bud Selig remains the game's commissioner. Fortunately, he promises that he will retire after the 2012 season. That gives all of us who want to see the use of replay expanded some hope.
For those who did not see the end of the game, the Braves won 4-3 in 19 innings--at about 2am Eastern time, after six hours and 49 minutes of baseball--when Pirates catcher Mike McKenry tagged out Atlanta's Julio Lugo at home plate, on a one-out grounder to third-baseman Pedro Alvarez. Actually, McKenry tagged out Lugo in front of home plate. About three feet in front of home plate. He blocked the plate, and got Lugo with a sweep tag, allowing himself time to get out of harm's way, even though Lugo was not approaching home plate with any particular head of steam. In fact, Lugo knew he was about to be tagged out and seemed to pull up at the last instant.
Furthermore, the Braves' hitter was reliever Scott Proctor, who fell flat on his face as he was leaving the batter's box, so McKenry immediately turned toward first base, after the tag, to complete the unusual double play. Except that home plate umpire Jerry Meals called Lugo safe. McKenry, needless to say, was beyond stunned. He kept screaming--pleading--at Meals, "I tagged him! I tagged him!" To no avail, of course. The call had already been made. The Braves won. The Pirates lost. And every Pirates fan, and every Pirates player, and everyone watching the game who did not have a vested interest in seeing the Braves win felt cheated, particularly those who spent nearly seven hours watching the entire 19 innings.
Is Meals a bad umpire because he blew the call? No, of course not. Is he a good umpire who made a bad call? Yes, he is. In fact, he admitted after the game, after having watched the replay in the umpire's dressing room that he apparently made the wrong call. This reminds me of Jim Joyce, who similarly realized he blew the unforgettable call in Detroit that cost then-Tigers' pitcher Armando Gallaraga a perfect game. Jim Joyce said shortly thereafter that he wished expanded replay had been in existence that afternoon so that he could have corrected his mistake. I guarantee that Jerry Meals feels the same.
Instead, Meals' family has been harrassed and threatened, just as Joyce's family, by a group of goons who aren't fit to see the light of day. But the greater point here is that while Commissioner Selig claims that there is no significant support within baseball to expand the use of replay, he is conveniently forgetting that the umpires themselves, perhaps to a man, all want to see replay expanded. They want to see it to ensure that the right calls are made. And they want to see it so that they don't have to live with the kind of nightmare that Jim Joyce has had to live with ever since he cost Gallaraga an historic perfecto.
In fact, MLB's executive vice president for baseball operations Joe Torre acknowledged today that Meals made the wrong call, said "no one feels worse than him," and and said he hopes that instant replay can be expanded in the not-too-distant future so that similar blown calls by umpires--in these two particular cases, calls that ended games--can potentially be reversed.
Ex-Raiders coach and former NFL TV analyst John Madden has told us many times on KCBS Radio that he supports the expansion of instant replay. He says "once the cat is out of the bag, you can't put it back in." In other words, thousands--perhaps millions when all is said and done--will have seen the Meals blown call on TV, and online. In such an occasion, it's only fair to the Pirates and to Jerry Meals, and to the integrity of baseball, to get the call right.
Come to think of it, Joe Torre would make an excellent successor to Bud Selig.
Steve Bitker is the Morning Sports Anchor at KCBS All-News Radio in San Francisco (740AM; 106.9FM), the Backup Radio Play-by-Play Announcer for the Oakland Athletics, and author of the book, "The Original San Francisco Giants; the Giants of '58."
For those who did not see the end of the game, the Braves won 4-3 in 19 innings--at about 2am Eastern time, after six hours and 49 minutes of baseball--when Pirates catcher Mike McKenry tagged out Atlanta's Julio Lugo at home plate, on a one-out grounder to third-baseman Pedro Alvarez. Actually, McKenry tagged out Lugo in front of home plate. About three feet in front of home plate. He blocked the plate, and got Lugo with a sweep tag, allowing himself time to get out of harm's way, even though Lugo was not approaching home plate with any particular head of steam. In fact, Lugo knew he was about to be tagged out and seemed to pull up at the last instant.
Furthermore, the Braves' hitter was reliever Scott Proctor, who fell flat on his face as he was leaving the batter's box, so McKenry immediately turned toward first base, after the tag, to complete the unusual double play. Except that home plate umpire Jerry Meals called Lugo safe. McKenry, needless to say, was beyond stunned. He kept screaming--pleading--at Meals, "I tagged him! I tagged him!" To no avail, of course. The call had already been made. The Braves won. The Pirates lost. And every Pirates fan, and every Pirates player, and everyone watching the game who did not have a vested interest in seeing the Braves win felt cheated, particularly those who spent nearly seven hours watching the entire 19 innings.
Is Meals a bad umpire because he blew the call? No, of course not. Is he a good umpire who made a bad call? Yes, he is. In fact, he admitted after the game, after having watched the replay in the umpire's dressing room that he apparently made the wrong call. This reminds me of Jim Joyce, who similarly realized he blew the unforgettable call in Detroit that cost then-Tigers' pitcher Armando Gallaraga a perfect game. Jim Joyce said shortly thereafter that he wished expanded replay had been in existence that afternoon so that he could have corrected his mistake. I guarantee that Jerry Meals feels the same.
Instead, Meals' family has been harrassed and threatened, just as Joyce's family, by a group of goons who aren't fit to see the light of day. But the greater point here is that while Commissioner Selig claims that there is no significant support within baseball to expand the use of replay, he is conveniently forgetting that the umpires themselves, perhaps to a man, all want to see replay expanded. They want to see it to ensure that the right calls are made. And they want to see it so that they don't have to live with the kind of nightmare that Jim Joyce has had to live with ever since he cost Gallaraga an historic perfecto.
In fact, MLB's executive vice president for baseball operations Joe Torre acknowledged today that Meals made the wrong call, said "no one feels worse than him," and and said he hopes that instant replay can be expanded in the not-too-distant future so that similar blown calls by umpires--in these two particular cases, calls that ended games--can potentially be reversed.
Ex-Raiders coach and former NFL TV analyst John Madden has told us many times on KCBS Radio that he supports the expansion of instant replay. He says "once the cat is out of the bag, you can't put it back in." In other words, thousands--perhaps millions when all is said and done--will have seen the Meals blown call on TV, and online. In such an occasion, it's only fair to the Pirates and to Jerry Meals, and to the integrity of baseball, to get the call right.
Come to think of it, Joe Torre would make an excellent successor to Bud Selig.
Steve Bitker is the Morning Sports Anchor at KCBS All-News Radio in San Francisco (740AM; 106.9FM), the Backup Radio Play-by-Play Announcer for the Oakland Athletics, and author of the book, "The Original San Francisco Giants; the Giants of '58."
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Al Davis: Way Over the Hill
Seems like just the other day that Al Davis was presiding over a standing-room-only news conference to announce the hiring of Tom Cable as his new head coach, although Big Al spent the heavy majority of that news conference blasting the man he had just fired, Lane Kiffin, whom Davis called a liar.
And now we have Davis president over another standing-room-only news conference to announce the hiring of Hue Jackson as his new head coach, although he spent the heavy majority of it (an hour-and-a-half) blasting the man he just fired, Tom Cable, whom Davis called a liar.
Oh, there were differences in the two news conferences. Davis fired Kiffin with one year left on his contract, saying he had no intention of paying him the balance (over $2 million) because (he claimed) Kiffin violated terms of the deal. On the other hand, Davis fired Cable, while fining him $120,000 over the final six weeks of the season, allegedly because of two lawsuits hanging over the organization--one from a former assistant coach who claims Cable broke his jaw, the other from one of Cable's ex-girlfriends, who claims he assaulted her.
Kiffin filed a grievance with the NFL to recover lost wages. He lost his case (one of the few times Davis has had reason to celebrate over the past decade). Cable has also filed a grievance with the NFL to recover lost wages. The guess here is that Davis will lose this one. It's for much less money, Davis knew about the accusations long before this past season even began, and he made the decision to keep Cable as his head coach until the season was over.
The point here is this: I know that Al Davis is in the Hall of Fame (inducted in 1992), but the truth is that the Raiders were great in the late 60s, and into the early 80s. But even in those days, they lost six straight AFL/AFC championship games. And they haven't done jack since, except for one great run after the turn of the century, which ended with a thud, when Jon Gruden's Bucs took them to the woodshed and beat the crap out of them.
In fact, I just checked out the Raiders' won-lost history over the years. Get this: The Raiders were 81 games over .500 in the 1960s and 70s. And they were two games under. 500 in the 80s, 90s and 00s. Put another way: If you total the Raiders wins and losses, and divide by 51 (their total years of existence), their average won-lost record is 8-7. Not exactly brilliant.
Incredible, huh? I am constantly amazed at the reverence shown by Raiders fans, in particular, toward Al Davis, like he's some kind of 50-year NFL legend. Yes, I know what he did for the old AFL. Yes, I know the Raiders were great during the period I cited above, despite the six straight title game losses. To be sure, when Davis was voted into the Hall of Fame, I did not object. But that was nearly 30 years ago.
Al Davis has become a charicature of himself, a living Howard Hughes if you will. His news conferences are packed for one reason only: People are fascinated with how bizarre he has become.
Here's hoping that Hue Jackson succeeds, in a similar fashion as Jon Gruden. Have a great season or two, and then get the hell out.
And now we have Davis president over another standing-room-only news conference to announce the hiring of Hue Jackson as his new head coach, although he spent the heavy majority of it (an hour-and-a-half) blasting the man he just fired, Tom Cable, whom Davis called a liar.
Oh, there were differences in the two news conferences. Davis fired Kiffin with one year left on his contract, saying he had no intention of paying him the balance (over $2 million) because (he claimed) Kiffin violated terms of the deal. On the other hand, Davis fired Cable, while fining him $120,000 over the final six weeks of the season, allegedly because of two lawsuits hanging over the organization--one from a former assistant coach who claims Cable broke his jaw, the other from one of Cable's ex-girlfriends, who claims he assaulted her.
Kiffin filed a grievance with the NFL to recover lost wages. He lost his case (one of the few times Davis has had reason to celebrate over the past decade). Cable has also filed a grievance with the NFL to recover lost wages. The guess here is that Davis will lose this one. It's for much less money, Davis knew about the accusations long before this past season even began, and he made the decision to keep Cable as his head coach until the season was over.
The point here is this: I know that Al Davis is in the Hall of Fame (inducted in 1992), but the truth is that the Raiders were great in the late 60s, and into the early 80s. But even in those days, they lost six straight AFL/AFC championship games. And they haven't done jack since, except for one great run after the turn of the century, which ended with a thud, when Jon Gruden's Bucs took them to the woodshed and beat the crap out of them.
In fact, I just checked out the Raiders' won-lost history over the years. Get this: The Raiders were 81 games over .500 in the 1960s and 70s. And they were two games under. 500 in the 80s, 90s and 00s. Put another way: If you total the Raiders wins and losses, and divide by 51 (their total years of existence), their average won-lost record is 8-7. Not exactly brilliant.
Incredible, huh? I am constantly amazed at the reverence shown by Raiders fans, in particular, toward Al Davis, like he's some kind of 50-year NFL legend. Yes, I know what he did for the old AFL. Yes, I know the Raiders were great during the period I cited above, despite the six straight title game losses. To be sure, when Davis was voted into the Hall of Fame, I did not object. But that was nearly 30 years ago.
Al Davis has become a charicature of himself, a living Howard Hughes if you will. His news conferences are packed for one reason only: People are fascinated with how bizarre he has become.
Here's hoping that Hue Jackson succeeds, in a similar fashion as Jon Gruden. Have a great season or two, and then get the hell out.
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