I’ve wanted to make the trip to Lambeau Field for a long time and it seemed a natural to take in the Jaguars/Packers game in August to accomplish that. I know it’s not the entire “experience” of the “frozen tundra” but it was special nonetheless.

I flew to Milwaukee and drove the two hours up to Green Bay. All interstate, it’s a pretty easy drive and I was a few hours early so traffic wasn’t much of a problem. I did stop on the way for a few minutes at a Holiday Inn and was pretty amazed to see a bunch of people milling around the lobby wearing their Packer green and gold. Obviously they were headed to the game.

Once in Green Bay I was surprised at the size of the town. Although it is an outpost along the shore of the lake, it’s not a one-horse town by any means. But it wasn’t hard to find the stadium. It looms in the distance as a true landmark. I was traveling with my friends Rob and Keith so as we got closer we were all pretty surprised at all of the fans hanging around the stadium and all of the homeowners near Lambeau who were parking cars in their front yard.

It was clean with wide parkways and neatly trimmed lawns, something you’d see out of a Rockwell painting if he’d ever attended an NFL game. We parked and looked for a place to get something to eat. The atmosphere around the game was much like Florida/Georgia at home with out the majority of people being over-served. But it was festive with bands playing and people really enjoying themselves. All of this for an exhibition game! We ate across the street, ordering the local fare, butter burgers and cheese curds.

Lambeau was renovated in 2000, so the structure itself is new-looking brick and glass. It seats over 70,000 but there’s no upper deck. It’s all in the lower bowl with great sight lines from every seat and the luxury boxes and press box perched above the seats. The vibe was excited and friendly with people milling everywhere, just about everybody in some kind of Packer jersey. If you weren’t wearing green and gold, you stood out like a sore thumb.

One end of the stadium has an expanded building, housing the Packer Hall of Fame. If you’re any kind of NFL fan, it’s great, starting with a 12-minute video chronicling the history of the team followed by memorabilia from Packer greats over the years. If you played in the NFL and were lucky enough to play for Green Bay you’re a hero forever in that town.

They also have an Atrium at the end of the stadium where they have a variety of eateries and drink carts adding to the overall experience. We ordered Bloody Mary’s’ and I saw the most complete condiment cart for Bloodies I’ve ever seen! You name it as a possible add-on for your drink it was there. You could have virtually a whole salad in with the vodka and the mix. They had some of the best horseradish ever on that cart as well.

We took in the view from a variety of seats around the stadium and even though we found three together in the club section the stadium was virtually full. One thing the club section had was a flip card roster for every seat, something the Jaguars could add to their repertoire.

Packer fans were, as expected, very knowledgeable and had high expectations. They weren’t disappointed by their first team (as opposed to the Jaguars fans at the game) and knew what they were looking for when the back-ups got in the game.

If you have a chance to ever go to a Packer game, go. It’s well worth the trip. Maybe my next one will be in December when they say the real “experience” happens.

I’d have written this earlier but I’ve been tied up answering and deleting all of the hate email that has filled up my mailbox since the Pro Football Hall of Fame vote was announced. There are confidentiality rules that come with the honor of being one of 40 selectors on the committee so there’s only so much I can say. But I can tell you this: It was a long, sometimes contentious, very conscientious, well thought out meeting on Saturday where we reviewed the 17 finalists who had made it to the final list.

From 7:30 until 2:15 with a couple of short breaks, we met in a room at the Miami Beach Convention Center and meticulously went over the credentials, careers and achievements of all 17 eligible for discussion.

The order of discussion is rotated every year by position, so they guys who are on the table at 8AM aren’t forgotten by 2PM. The list is whittled down to 10 (11 this year because of a tie) and then down to 6 as the candidates compete against each other for one of the final six spots. Once the final six are chosen, each gets an up or down vote.

I’ve been on the committee for 12 years and have come to the conclusion that if a player makes the final six, he should get in. Some of the other members of the committee deride that attitude and one in his national column called it an “ill-advised” plea to put all six, no matter who they are, in the Hall. But I happen to agree with that philosophy now, even if I didn’t before.

Not voting for a player who gets to the final six is either an act of personal vendetta or arrogance. Especially if he’s a player recommended by the Senior Committee. If a player is brought to the full commit from the Senior meeting in August, he’s been closely inspected and more scrutinized than anybody else on the ballot.

Seniors are pulled out of the morass of hundreds of players who some how “slipped through the cracks” (some of my fellow committee members hate that expression.) But it’s true, they either got caught up in a numbers game or the social pressures of the time when they were eligible (see Bob Hayes) didn’t allow their induction. So if a guy makes it to the final six, it means that a vast majority of your fellow committee members think that he’s Hall of Fame worthy.

So you’re the only smart one among the bunch? You’re the one who’s going to keep him out although some of the top people in your profession sitting in that room, listening to the same arguments think he should get in? I have to say that it doesn’t surprise me that some of the people on the committee have that attitude because that’s how they conduct themselves on a regular basis. But I have a lot of respect for the process and if a guy gets to the final six, he’s getting my vote.

I didn’t want to vote for Michael Irvin but he made the final six so I gave him a “yes” even though in my personal “Hall” he’s not a Hall of Famer.

The reduction to 11 didn’t surprise me even though just retired Commissioner Paul Tagliabue didn’t make the first cut. We spent 57 minutes talking about Tagliabue. Some of it was heated, with his proponents pointing out the legacy he left and the growth of the league while his detractors brought up examples of just the opposite. I think Tagliabue will eventually get into the Hall. He was part numbers game part incomplete career in terms of not getting more consideration.

When the vote got down from 11 to 6, I could have easily made a case for the five who didn’t make the final cut. They all have Hall of Fame credentials. I am surprised by the lack of support for Gary Zimmerman. As his presenter pointed out, he was the only player of the 17 on the ballot to be a two-time all-decade performer in the league. The best in two different decades but not in the Hall of Fame? Could have also been a numbers game with the plethora of offensive linemen on the ballot.

Again, I was disappointed that Art Monk didn’t get to the final six. Some of his detractors in the past publicly said they were changing their vote, so I thought he might have enough support this year. But it might have been a numbers game as well. Or it could be a backlash against the non-stop email campaign from Monk’s supporters among fans who harangue me and the other voters for not having already put Monk in the Hall. I guess they’re not different than the Cowboy fans who wrote after Rayfield Wright and Troy Aikman were in the same class that I had some kind of anti-Cowboy bias.

Bob Kuchenberg belongs in the Hall, but there is a sentiment that Jim Langer and Larry Little are already in and that’s enough offensive linemen from that Dolphins team. That’s baloney; he’s a Hall of Famer.

Putting Roger Wehrli in was long overdue. As one of my fellow selectors said it was a “sophisticated pick.”

As a member of the committee, I don’t have a say in the process, but we were able to give our opinions to several of the Hall’s Board of Trustees. As a group, the selectors would like to see the initial process of paring down the list changed and we’d like to see the class bigger, especially with the addition of another Senior Candidate. Don’t be surprised if next year, the class could grow to seven.

Other than that, I can tell you it’s a serious process with a lot of work done by members of the committee. Make fun of the process, call the whole thing silly if you like but I can tell you first-hand, in that room, it’s serious business.

It’s a very different Super Bowl week for a lot of reasons. The two teams, Indianapolis and Chicago are just 200 miles from each other in the Midwest. While the Bears have a national following, one player, Peyton Manning, defines the Colts.

Can he win the big one?

Can he take the Colts to the Super Bowl?

There’s no controversy, there are no “Bad Boys” on either team (figuratively of course. Tank Johnson would qualify in a literal sense).

It seems that there are 300,000 people headed to Miami and South Beach for the weekend just to be a part of the atmosphere. The last time the game was in Miami was 1999. Miami has become “hot” since then with TV shows and nightlife that glorifies the party scene. It’s the place where many NFL players head right after their games on Sunday to get in a party on Sunday night and through Monday before they have to get back to work on Wednesday. Some charter jets, others (from the Jaguars and the Bucs) jump on Southwest to Ft. Lauderdale to get there ASAP.

There also seems to be a pent up demand from corporate America to get something going at this Super Bowl. Right after September 11th, most corporations cut back on their entertainment spending, drying up a lot of the big dollars that they spent on clients to send them to big events like the Super Bowl. Add that to the fact that the game has been in Houston (ho-hum), Jacksonville (too little) and Detroit (too chilly) and all of the sudden folks are coming out of the woodwork to get to Miami and be part of the scene.

One columnist in Miami wrote it best when the headline on his Tuesday article said, “Today, the circus comes to town.” It really is a traveling circus, and the people who come to the Super Bowl are attracted to what Miami has to offer. Nightlife, strip clubs, cocktails and restaurants. The promise that you might see a celebrity or get invited to somebody’s party is a strong attraction for the Super bowl set.

Tickets?

Who needs tickets?

The game is an ancillary part of the week. The Maxim, Playboy, SI and ESPN parties are the big tickets people are trying to scam.

I think this is my 25th Super Bowl, and the whole thing has changed. In fact, it seems to change every year. Sometimes for the better, sometimes, not so much. This year the league has designated certain parts of South Florida as official “Super Bowl Zones.” But make no mistake about it. If it’s not happening in South Beach, it might as well not be happening at all.

You thought it was plausible. That’s why there was a firestorm of speculation and information when it was reported that Terrell Owens had attempted suicide. Owens is wired different, is a publicity hound, loves the spotlight and appears to have a screw loose. So, taking his own life? I can see that, you thought.

Or perhaps you thought it was a publicity stunt, which most people figured to begin with. Or, very darkly, you thought he was going to do away with himself because of some deep, dark secret that was going to be revealed.

But Owens said none of that is true. Just a mistake, a misunderstanding, a mixture of his supplements and some pain medication put him in an “unresponsive” state, and his publicist called 911. The police report said he admitted to trying to harm himself, but Owens said he was “out of it” and didn’t remember saying that.

“He was taken advantage of,” his publicist, somewhat oddly, said at a press conference in Dallas.

In this era of a 24-hour news cycle, we saw this one develop in front of our eyes. And only because it was Owens did it become big news. If it was Terry Glenn, very little would have been said. But Owens has his own PR machine, like it or not, and he was splattered all over television and the internet for a full 24 hours.

I didn’t buy into the sensationalism of it all, thinking it was, in fact, an allergic reaction, but also wondering if it was a suicide attempt, that getting him help, and not shoving a camera in his face, should have been the first priority. But that’s not what the news business is about these days, and Owens has figured it out.

Maybe he’s telling the truth, maybe he’s not, but either way, he knows exactly what to do once given the opportunity to get his face in front of the public in the most dramatic way. He wanted to hold a press conference in his front yard again, but the Cowboys told him no. So he showed up at the Cowboy facility and was a part of the process of explanation.

Head Coach Bill Parcells didn’t know anything, and told the media just that. But when Owens took the podium, he did so with his own personal support group, including his own publicist. By way of explanation, every NFL team, including the Cowboys, has a PR staff that churns out all kinds of information and publicizes the players every move. So for Owens to bring along his own publicist, is a little out of bounds. But obviously agreed to by the Cowboys.

But have you noticed that the Cowboys have gone from one crisis to another since Owens joined the team? Do you think Parcells will put up with that for long? He refers to Owens as “the player” for now, so can his patience running out be far behind.

Maybe Owens is bipolar. Maybe he’s just kooky or maybe he’s just wired differently from everyone else, leaving us to constantly wonder. But this latest escapade is evidence that no matter what he does, we’ll buy into it.

At least for a while.

It was just a quick little blurb when I first saw it. President Bush in South Florida, having dinner at Joe’s Stone Crabs with a bunch of well-known Floridians. Nick Saban, Head Coach of the Miami Dolphins declined the invitation because he was “too busy with training camp.” It struck me as amusing, but not weird, that’s how coaches act and I’ve been conditioned to expect it.

Since that “blurb” everybody’s had their shots at Saban and have run his decision into the ground. Of course it’s weird and wrong, but I’m sure Saban can’t figure out what the fuss is all about. In fact, anybody in the coaching profession is probably totally perplexed with the reaction. Coaches coach, that’s what they do. The ones that are “so-called” successful think that out-working the competition puts them a little ahead of the rest of the world.

Dick Vermeil and Joe Gibbs were the first over the top workers. Sure you can go back to Vince Lombardi and a few others, but Vermeil is the first celebrated self-proclaimed “burnout” while Gibbs stepped away from the game when he realized he was missing his whole life. He even tells a famous story about himself going home early one night to tuck his son into bed and realizing his son had a goatee and was 220 lbs! His wife used to record dinner table conversations among his family and send them to Redskins Park hoping Gibbs would get a chance to listen to them.

Vermeil was famous for sleeping at his office in order to not waste the time driving back and forth to his house. We’ve seen that first hand in Jacksonville with Tom Coughlin. He’s a famous over-worker and several coaches left or turned down jobs with the Jaguars because of Coughlin’s famous over-working habits.

Right after September 11, 2001, Paul Tagliabue declared a moratorium on working one day that week, mandating that the league be shut down. Coughlin ignored Tagliabue’s directive and came to work anyway, his car the only one in the stadium parking lot.

So that kind of bizarre behavior doesn’t seem strange to me. Anti-social, tunnel vision, call it anything you want. It’s weird, but acceptable in that profession, even lauded. If a guy doesn’t work enough (see Steve Spurrier) he’s criticized for letting things get away from him.

Gibbs does have three Super Bowl rings, and Vermeil finally got his, but not before he realized life was passing him by. Saban’s team won it’s last six games last year and is the trendy pick to be a contender this year. But it doesn’t matter. Even if the Dolphins win the Super Bowl this season, Saban will always be known as the coach who picked two hours of film over two hours with the President of the United States.

I hope when he’s 80 and nobody remembers he was a coach he can remember the plays he researched. I hope they work.

As much as the NFL owners are portrayed as a fraternity of like-minded, chummy associates, when it comes to money, their relationship is about business. That was very apparent in the final day of the meeting/negotiating session in Dallas as the owners were trying to hash out revenue sharing among themselves and a deal with the players union.

At one point over the two-day session, Jim Irsay of the Indianapolis Colts said, “We need the ghost of Wellington Mara to appear.” Mara, the long time owner of the New York Giants who died last year, is generally credited with giving the NFL life when he agreed to revenue sharing with the other owners instead of piling up the big bucks as an owner in the largest market in America.

Because of the worth of the teams, more than half of the owners have bought their clubs in the last 15 years. That means they don’t know anything about the labor problems of the league in the ‘80’s or the competition they faced from the AFL in the ‘60’s, followed by the USFL two decades later. The Raiders Al Davis was convinced that a rival league would have spawned had the NFL not made a deal with the players. “It would have been out there,” Davis said after the proposal was approved 30-2. “A ten team league would have been easy to put together to rival ours. It would have been anarchy. I know, I’ve lived it.”

Apparently a blending of a couple ideas was approved by the ownership with the top 15 high revenue teams contributing money to a pool that would be distributed over the other 17 teams in the league. “There are a lot of people giving a lot of money away,” is how Pittsburgh’s Dan Rooney characterized it. It was a true compromise with plenty of give and take.

Guys like Jerry Jones of Dallas and Daniel Snyder of Washington got on board, accepting the idea that some money made in the future because of the size of their market could be shared for the good of the league. “We got moving,” Jones said, “when some of the smaller revenue teams realized that some of the concerns they had just weren’t going to be addressed.”

Whoa.

Wouldn’t you like to have been a fly on the wall in that meeting when Jones, Snyder and some of the other big market guys just stood up and told those other owners that what they wanted just wasn’t going to happen? When was the last time anybody told an NFL owner no about anything? It’s the bazillionaires telling the skillionaires that they can’t have what they want.

It is a deal that keeps the league going in the direction it’s going: up. Even though they’re in business together, what’s a few million among friends?

You could only chuckle when the reports about Detroit hosting the Super Bowl started coming in. The game was awarded to the Motor City as a nod to the car manufacturers, William Clay Ford the owner of the Lions, Roger Penske and as a reward for building a new stadium.

Detroit’s like any other “Old World” city. Industry has come and gone, jobs have come and gone, people are trying to move out and the town is dark and gray in the winter. Unless you’re in the car business, nobody’s moving to Detroit. But like any of the established cities in the US, there are nice places to be found.

Gross Pointe, Bloomfield Hills, Troy, they’re all suburbs, just like suburbs anywhere else: nice neighborhoods, good places to live and raise kids. There are hockey leagues everywhere and they celebrate their cold weather as part of the culture. In fact, people are proud of their ability to endure, to overcome the things that are part of living in a place that has snow, sleet, and cold temperatures.

Detroit is the hometown of sportswriter Mitch Albom (he also wrote Tuesdays With Morrie) who wrote a touchy-feely piece about warmth of character of the people of Detroit. His point was that there’s some nobility in working two jobs to make ends meet. He compared his town to Orlando and Disney World saying that’s a fabricated world and Detroit is real.

And I don’t disagree with any of that.

If you’re living in Detroit either you have to or you want to. There’s no in between. Either you can’t leave or you really want to stay. That’s not the case is most of the cities hosting the Super Bowl, including Jacksonville. Nobody has to live in Jacksonville. They’re not tied to the company store, the job at the mill or the mine. People live there because the living is easy and nice. And there’s plenty of “warmth of character” among the people who live there as well.

I’m over all of the shots the media took at Jacksonville last year. I’ve always said you have to let the city reveal itself to you instead of it slapping you in the face as soon as you get there. But I’m still a little frosted about the continued snide comments from poorly dressed, over-fed, ill-informed, self-important hacks who spent four days there and all of the sudden became experts.

One writer wrote the 16 reasons the Super Bowl is ok in Detroit. Reasons #2 and #14 were “It’s not Jacksonville.”

Detroit is getting nice reviews for their “hospitality” and the people have been nice. Kind of standoffish, but nice. Motown does have casinos, something most people I’ve talked to didn’t know. But the people who are visiting have figured that out right away. Maybe that’s why Detroit is getting a little bit of a pass. That, and everybody knew the weather was going to be a factor (bad).

So Jacksonville suffered from; 1) nobody knew what to expect, 2) no casinos, 3) not enough hotel rooms and 4) no strip joints. At least that’s what seems to be the general consensus of those who are in Detroit this week. It is Detroit after all.

“There are a lot of things I think about every day,” said Philadelphia Eagles owner Jeff Lurie, “but that’s not one of them.”

Lurie was responding to a question about a possible renegotiation of Terrell Owens’ contract. “It’s not an issue,” the Eagles owner continued. “It’s a non-issue.”

That’s about as straight forward as you can be. The guy with the money telling the guy who wants more that he can’t have it. “He’s getting destructive advice from his agent,” Lurie told a reporter in his office in Philadelphia.

And the saga continues.

Owens had rehabilitated his image somewhat in his first season with Philadelphia. He produced at a high level. He worked hard to come back from an injury. And his remarkable comeback and performance in the Super Bowl nearly earned the Eagles a world championship. He seemed like a bright, dedicated if somewhat self-centered elite athlete.

All this was after spewing venom in San Francisco, especially at quarterback Jeff Garcia.

Owens forced a trade out of the Garnet and Gold, so they sent him to Baltimore. But that’s not where he wanted to play. So the Ravens accommodated him and shipped him to Philadelphia. All was supposed to be great. Owens playing with Donovan McNabb, where he wants to play and making $49 million over the next seven years. His new contract was worked by the Eagles, and Owens promised Head Coach Any Reid that he was happy with the money and wouldn’t make any off-season waves.

But he lied.

Despite the rehab, it turned out that Owens is actually the epitome of the self-centered, me first professional athlete. In point of fact, he’s probably right that as the elite receiver in the league, he’s not paid what that receiver should get. But he signed the contract. He’s the one who promised Andy Reid.

But he was faking.

It seems the real Owens just can’t help himself. He needs more, more and more. Money that is. As Lurie said “At this level of money, it’s no longer about the money. It should be about winning championships.” At least McNabb acknowledged that when the said, “We’re going to be good whether T.O. is here or not. He should stop the squabbling and get back here.”

His promotion with ABC for Desperate Housewives was supposed to cast him as a sympathetic and smart figure. And it was the talk of the NFL He walked right up to the edge of full accepted stardom, but couldn’t make that final step. That step that puts somebody, something, or in this case, some team before you.

But he couldn’t do it.

And the shame of it al

Never one to give the media any credit, or a break, Ravens coach Brian Billick asked the media to “get all of the facts” before passing judgment, “although I know you won’t,” he added. Billick started his career in the NFL in the PR department so he thinks he knows how to manage the news he wants out on his team. The problem is, Billick hasn’t dealt with that many criminals in purple and black. He did have his Ray Lewis experience, but somehow, Lewis’ culpability in the Atlanta murder hasn’t taken the shine off his star in the league. Maybe he’s reformed, maybe he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the general lingering impression is that he got off.

It’s been widely reported that running back Jamal Lewis will accept a plea bargain this week that will carry 4-6 months in jail for possession of drugs with intent to distribute. Lewis allegedly committed this crime in the time after he was at Tennessee and before he joined the Ravens. The original charge carried with it a potential of a ten year prison sentence. With that hanging over his head, and the publicity a trial would bring, Lewis decided to accept the jail time and get it over with.

Somehow, in a twisted way, some people think that makes his crime OK.

But it doesn’t.

If in fact Lewis does plead guilty to the crime, he should face serious punishment from the NFL. He’s supposed to serve his time in the NFL’s off season. How does that make it any better? IF he had a regular job, would it be waiting for him when he returned? I don’t know the answer to that question, but the league’s punishment should send a strong message throughout the NFL. There’s talk of a four or six game suspension, but that’s just not enough.

I couldn’t help but think about that while watching the Kansas City/Baltimore game on Monday night. Here’s a guy who’s a major star in the league. One of only five players to gain more than 2,000 yards in a season. He’s celebrated as one of the examples of what a good football player should be: big, tough and fast. But how can the league allow him to continue to play this year as a convicted felon and hold him up as an example of who fans should pay to come see? Paul Tagliabue needs to sit him down until after he serves his time. I’m a believer in bringing guys back into society after they’ve served. Once that happens, let him be judged on his merits. But to allow him to play the season while waiting to go to jail would be ridiculous. Even Ravens fans couldn’t cheer with a straight face.

This year’ Pro Football Hall of Fame class is strong with John Elway, Barry Sanders, Bob Brown and Carl Eller. Elway and Sanders made it into the Hall in their first year. The discussion was minimal about both during the selection process. Elway is one of the top five or so quarterbacks of all time in the league, capping his career with two Super Bowl Wins. Sanders retired early at age 31, but ten times he broke the 1,000 yard rushing mark in a season, and his impact on the game made it easy to vote for him.

Brown took a while to get into the Hall, and was brought to the full selection committee by the veterans committee. Eller got caught in a numbers game during his eligible time, but finally the dynamic of the committee changed enough to get him in. But this class is incomplete.

One of the finalists, the last six who are put in front of the committee for a yes or no vote was Bob Hayes. Past his eligibility as an active player, Hayes was also brought to the main committee by the Veterans committee. After being pulled out of the morass of players who have slipped through the cracks of the process, Hayes then survived three rounds of voting by the full 38 member committee to become a finalist. As the late Jack Buck once said before the final vote, “I’m here as a selector to put guys in the Hall, not keep them out.” I agree and was pretty irritated when Hayes didn’t make the final cut.

One of the selectors favorite sayings is, “It’s the Hall of Fame, not the Hall of the Very Good,” and he, along with a couple of other selectors kept Hayes out of the Hall. It’s a shame, because those guys have a bias against Hayes that’s unreasonable. Whether it’s his performance in the “Ice Bowl” where he was no factor in the -13 degree weather in Green Bay, or his off field problems after he retired, those guys don’t think Hayes is a Hall of Famer. But if you use their own criteria, the criteria they used to get Lawrence Taylor in the Hall, Hayes is a slam dunk. His yards per catch, his touchdowns per catch and his overall impact on the game, similar to Barry Sanders warrant election into the Hall.

Those guys who kept Hayes out, they know who they are, and perhaps they have that right. Perhaps they consider themselves guardians of the gates of immortality, and carry themselves, particularly during football season, as some kind of sages with no peer. They’re mistaken. Sometimes swimming against the tide to make a stand is important. But you’ve got to know when to pick your battles. This time they won the battle, but no matter how many battles they win in the future, they’ll never win the war. They don’t deserve it.

I was stunned, but not overly surprised when Bob Hayes didn’t make it into the Pro Football Hall of Fame this year. As a member of the selection committee, I was in the room and part of the discussion about Hayes’ credentials when his name was presented in front of the full committee. The Senior Committee selected Hayes and offensive lineman Bob Brown as the two senior candidates this year, culling them out of a long list of deserving candidates who’s career’s ended more than 25 years ago.

“Some guys just slip through the cracks, “ is how committee member Paul Zimmerman explained it to me years ago.

The voting procedure doesn’t allow just a blanket vote on everybody’s who’s eligible. As the rules are now, a maximum of six can be elected into the Hall each year (it used to be seven). So if there are a bunch of offensive linemen, or a couple of slam dunks, like John Elway and Barry Sanders this year, some guys get pushed to the side. Eventually, their eligibility runs out, and they have to come out of what has been described as a “morass” of old-timers.

Hayes had never made it to the final selection phase before, so his credentials had never been discussed in front of the whole committee until Saturday, 29 years after he played his last game. In the league for 11 years, Hays averaged 19.9 yards per catch and still holds the Cowboy record for most touchdowns at 71. He scored a touchdown about one of ever five times he touched the ball. Pretty impressive numbers, but not enough for some of the selectors.

“I just don’t think he has the numbers to be in the Hall,” one selector told me after the vote. “There are 25 other guys who are more deserving in that senior mix.”

A real analysis of his stats shows that Hayes had some spectacular years, and some ordinary ones and no production in the post season. “He wasn’t brilliant all the time, like the great ones are,” another selector told me. “He didn’t make one big catch in one big game, and that’s the difference for me.” Perhaps true, but didn’t he change the game? Didn’t he cause defensive coordinators to invent the zone defense?

One voter put it this way: “It’s been said that you can’t write the history of the NFL without Bob Hayes in it. And that’s true, but that alone doesn’t qualify you for the Hall of Fame.” I disagree, and said so at the meeting, rather vociferously. I agree that Hayes’ career numbers don’t jump out when you dissect them, but as a career, it’s hard to ignore 71 TD’s and nearly 20 yards a catch. Plus if you “change the game” then you do deserve a spot among the immortals. Hayes’ nomination was the most discussed in the meeting and even though there were some negatives, I thought the tone was generally positive.

The voting procedure starts after all of the candidates are discussed. The 39 voters are asked to vote for their top 10 out of the original 15, eliminating five of the candidates. When Hayes made that cut, I thought the arguments for getting him in had had an effect. Next we’re asked to cut down to six, which was, and always is the hardest part of the voting. Guys have gotten out of the main pool, into the final list and past the first cut are great players, all with credentials worthy of consideration. Now we have to eliminate four of them before the final vote.

When Hayes made it to the final six I thought he was definitely in. Jack Buck once told me, “I came here to put guys in the Hall, not keep them out.” And I agree. If a player has gone through that process and there has been that much support for him among the other electors, why should I keep him out? So with a rare exception, I vote yes for the guys who make it to the finals. Once the final six are announced, we’re asked to vote yes or no on each candidate. With 39 selectors, it takes 8 “no” votes to keep somebody out of the Hall. So apparently the negative feelings about Hayes’ career and his post season numbers were strong enough to sway at least 8 votes to the no side.

I do think the vote was very close, but it won’t put Hayes any closer to the Hall. He has to come out of the senior committee again, and there’s no reason the committee should bring him before the same committee members just to have the same 8 guys vote no again. “It’ll be 5 or 10 years before Hayes is back before the committee,” I told Zimmerman in the hallway after the vote was announced. “At least,” he sighed.

Bob Hayes was wronged in that room, I really believe that. If you’ve got the support of so many committee members that you make it to the final six, it takes some kind of grudge or quirk of personality (as in I know things that you don’t) that allow you to vote “no.” That’s strange to me, but it’s the dynamic of the committee. And until that changes, until most of the committee will think of Hayes as an historical figure, his chances of getting in the Hall are slim. The committee does change, but some what at a glacier pace. The average age is 57 years old, so it’ll be a few years before Bob gets another chance.

Going into Super Bowl XXXVII the main question was, Can the Bucs score? The answer, of course, is an emphatic yes. In fact, the Bucs were not only the best team in the playoffs but also the hottest, leaving San Francisco, Philadelphia and eventually Oakland in their dust.

After a tentative first quarter, Tampa Bay made a couple of adjustments, started to gain some yardage on the ground and started to dominate the game. Michael Pittman and Mike Alstott provided a nice 1-2 punch out of the backfield, and the accuracy of Brad Johnson’s passes made the Raiders defensive backs no factor.

So what happened to Oakland?

The Bucs are what happened to Oakland.

Tampa Bay was better on paper, better prepared, executed better, brought more emotion to the game and “would not be denied” according to many players in the post-game locker room.

After trading away much of the future for John Gruden, Malcolm Glazer looks like a genius (a dweeb genius, but a genius none-the-less). This from a guy who headed an ownership group in Baltimore during the 1993 expansion and was denied because the league thought he wasn’t a “good fit.” The owners are smart, at the top of the NFL’s food chain, and weren’t about to hand over a $200 million franchise to somebody who wasn’t a “good fit.” But Once Glazer bought into the league by purchasing the Bucs (for substantially more than $200 million) they’ll all have to follow their lead in building a Super Bowl Champion.

How many owners would now trade two number one’s, two number two’s and $8 million for a Super Bowl championship? John Madden rhetorically asked during the 4th quarter Sunday night. All of them is the answer.

The Bucs built their team piece by piece, some through the draft, some through trades and some through free-agency. They used the Patriots success from a year ago as a model, snapping up mid-level free-agents like Keenan McCardell and Ken Dilger to fill some key roles. Not high-impact players, but solid role players who don’t put a big dent in the salary cap and could contribute all year long. Once again, the theory paid off with a title.

Jon Gruden is hoping he’ll be able to keep most of the team together and add to it as well. He even started recruiting right after the game. “We’ve got some money to spend and we’ll be interested in some free-agents in the off season. So if you’re a free-agent interested in Tampa, you can expect a call,” is how Gruden put it, slyly on Monday. It appears he likes the feeling of winning it all.

A bunch of people asked me on Saturday, “Hey, who won that game last night?” Some of them just had a passing interest in what was going on (since neither Florida nor Florida State were playing) and others just went to bed before the game went into overtime. Either way, as sports fans, they missed a riveting, if not a well-played game. This game to determine a national champion had the highest of highs and the lowest of lows for both teams, collectively and individually. As a team, Miami felt the ecstasy of winning and the despair of losing within ten minutes of each other. Their kicker did what all kickers hope to do: kick the game winning/tying field goal on the last play of the game. Their star running back was beginning to dominate the game when in the flash of an eye; his season was over, his career in jeopardy. Ohio State had the same emotions as a team; going from thinking they had lost to knowing they had won, one right after the other. Their quarterback couldn’t do much in regulation, yet completed a 4th-and-14 pass to keep his team’s hope alive.

With the flurry of action at the end of regulation and in overtime, the focus on the interference call in the end zone and Willis McGahee’s injury, one play might get lost in the memory of this game, but it’s the play this game will be remembered for years from now. The Buckeyes were about to score a touchdown to go up 21-7 when Miami’s Sean Taylor intercepted the ball in the end zone and headed the other way. Instead of a two-touchdown lead, the game was about to be tied and thrown into a frenzy. As Taylor was headed down the sideline, Ohio State’s freshman running back Maurice Clarett caught him from behind, made the tackle and stole the ball all at the same time! The physical ability to make the play and the mental presence to execute it and change the outcome right on the spot is a rare combination for any athlete, let alone a true freshman playing in the national championship game. Clarett spent the week bashing the athletic department in Columbus for their lack of understanding, so his motivation was in question as the game approached. Even though Miami did a good job keeping him in check, that one play, and his subsequent touchdown run in overtime raised his profile equal to his hype.

It wasn’t a clean, well-played game, but rather the kind of game Ohio State hopes to be in every week. It was tough, it went down to the wire, it had all kinds of strategy and turnovers and it turned into a test of wills.

“They couldn’t match our talent,” Hurricane tight end Kellen Winslow said after the game, “But sometimes it takes more than that. I guess we learned that tonight.”

Many sports fans also learned a lesson: don’t go to bed too early.

Growing up in Baltimore in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s you were a Colts fan. There wasn’t a lot of choice in the matter. Everybody followed the Colts. Even if you moved to Baltimore from out of town, you might have kept your allegiance to some other team, but you did it quietly. On the outside, you were a Colts fan.

I didn’t know any other football teams really. The Redskins and Eagles were teams we beat all the time. The Browns were occasionally good. The Giants had been in decline, and the Packers were the team we hated the most. We talked about the Colts; our parents, teachers, friends and even our priests talk about the Colts. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they were among the best teams in the league at that time, and had some of the best players to ever play the game wearing the blue and white.

And they had Johnny Unitas.

There were the Colts, the guys who played on Sunday and wore the Colts uniforms, and then there was Unitas, the guy who, in our minds invented football. If football players are larger than life, Unitas was some kind of sports deity. Being cut by the Steelers and acquired by the Colts through a sixty-cent phone call, Unitas was perfect for Baltimore. Maybe it’s because it’s a port town, and maybe because it’s always been working class and full of immigrants and ethnic neighborhoods, Baltimore has always seemed to be full of people who tried harder. It’s always had that second-city identity, and Unitas was embraced as one of us. He wasn’t the biggest or fastest, but he usually was the smartest guy on the field. In an era where the quarterback called the plays, Unitas had a knack for always calling the right one.

In 1998, the NFL had a 40th anniversary celebration at the Super Bowl of the 1958 NFL Championship game between the Colts and the New York Giants known as “The Greatest Game Ever Played.” All of the big names from that game were there. Except Unitas. He said he had a previous engagement, but actually he was angry with the NFL and their medical benefits coverage for players of his era. Still, he was the topic of conversation among Lenny Moore, Art Donovan, Frank Gifford, Sam Huff and the others. “Unitas just picked us apart,” Huff said when asked about the Colts’ drives at the end of regulation and in overtime. “He was the best,” the Hall of Fame linebacker added.

In a crowded room of reporters I asked if they were anticipating the match up again in 1959 title game. “Nah,” Huff dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand, “they still had Unitas and we didn’t. He was the difference. We knew it would be the same.”

Unitas defined what a quarterback was supposed to be: talented without being showy, smart without being a know-it-all and confident without being cocky. He wasn’t just in the game; he was part of the game. He knew where everybody was supposed to be on the field at all times. All 21 other players. Some of his teammates, and many of his competitors thought Unitas to be too cocky. He scoffed at that idea saying, “Conceit is when you’re bragging. Confidence is when you know you can get the job done. And you let those other guys in the huddle know they can get the job done too. Without them, I’m nothing.”

He was probably right about the 1970 Super Bowl where Don Shula (then the Colts Head Coach) put him in too late to do anything. The Jets, 16-7, upset the Colts, the first win for the AFL. Asked if he would have made a difference if he had started Unitas offhandedly said, “it wouldn’t have taken that long.”

In the shifting American culture of the late 50’s through the early 70’s, Unitas was “old school” before anybody heard of “old school.” The sloped shoulders, the single bar helmet and the trademark black high tops. Running around in my front yard we were always, Tarkenton, Jurgensen or even Dr. Frank Ryan. Nobody was Unitas. He was too revered. It never was even a question. We were not worthy. Nobody wore 19. That was Johnny U’s number. Period. You just didn’t wear 19. Sure, when you were playing catch you could emulate that two handed, shoulder-shifting, seven-step drop with a perfect over-the-top delivery, but never in the street game. You’d be ridiculed. “What? You trying to be Unitas or something?”

Intensely private, Unitas stayed out of the spotlight after his retirement, even when he went back to work out of football after some failed investments. He worked with a friend of my father in the import/export business for a while. It was hard to believe that you could call a business and they’d put you through to Johnny U. “Unitas,” is how he answered the phone when my Dad put in a call after some prodding from his friend. “Uh, uh, uh,” were the first three things my Dad said until Unitas interrupted him and said in a calm and very friendly manner, “I get this a lot. Just relax and tell me how I can help you.” Once composed, my Dad and John Unitas had a pleasant, short conversation.

We should have known something about the Irsays when they allowed Unitas to finish his career with San Diego. Unitas did go over 40,000 yards passing in a Chargers uniform, the first quarterback to do so. And he taught Dan Fouts how to be a quarterback.

He wanted his stats deleted from the Colts record book once they moved to Indianapolis. If they weren’t from Baltimore, they couldn’t possibly be the Colts. (I’ve always been somewhat chagrined that there was no loud cry for a new team in Baltimore when Irsay moved the Mayflower vans out under the cover of darkness in 1984. When Modell moved the Browns, you’d have thought a national crime was committed, but when the Colts were stolen, there wasn’t a peep outside of Baltimore.)

So it always seemed strange to me when Unitas adopted the Ravens when they moved to town. But there he was, standing on the sidelines during most home games, just lending his aura, his connection to tradition, to the newest immigrants in Baltimore.

I saw John Unitas last year at the Jaguars/Ravens game. Waiting for an elevator, the doors opened, and standing there in a khaki windbreaker and a young p.r. intern at his side was Johnny U. I stood there for a second, and when we made eye contact it gave me that “are you getting on” look. I really didn’t want to bother him, but somehow I did want him to know what a positive influence he’d been on my life. So I just said, “Hi,” and mentioned that I grew up in Baltimore and had been a Colts fan in his playing days. “Yeah, those were great times,” he said, as I’m sure he’d said a million times before. But he said it with that trademark self-deprecating smile as the doors opened and we walked toward the field.

I thought about that two-handed, shoulder shifting, seven step drop with the perfect overhand delivery as he stepped onto the field.

“What? You trying to be Unitas or something,” I heard my boyhood friends shouting in my memory.

Yeah.

Shouldn’t we all?

All of the little sayings turned out to be true. Third time’s a charm, defense wins championships, and they didn’t become sayings because they’re not true. In their third trip to the Super Bowl, the New England Patriots became champions, relying on the defense to get the job done. It’s not the biggest upset in Super Bowl history, but it’s up there. The Rams were considered unbeatable with an unstoppable offense and an improved defense.

Going in, the Patriots knew they had to accomplish several things to give themselves a chance to win. They had to create turnovers and turn them into points. They had to keep the Rams from getting the big play. They had to force the Rams to kick field goals when necessary, they had to control field position and they needed solid special teams play. They knew they had to do it, and they went out and did it.

It’s hard to tell if the Rams were a little off or if it was because of what the Patriots were doing. Either way, when Adam Vinitieri trotted onto the field with seven seconds to play, there was no doubt he was going to make the kick. By the way, when are coaches going to figure out that a soft defense that keeps the ball in front of you gets you beat? No time outs and just over a minute to play, the Patriots dinked the ball downfield, just enough to get in position for the winning kick. Pressure the quarterback and if you get beat, you get beat. The Rams will stay together for at least one more year, and perhaps it’s fitting that a team named the Patriots reigns as Super Bowl Champion this year.

With commercials costing “just south” of $2 million each to air on the Super Bowl broadcast, I thought they might have been a bit more creative. The Budweiser spots were pretty good. I especially liked the “Mini-Fridge” one at the beginning and the Clydesdales bowing to New York City was a nice touch. The promotion of halftime with football player looking guys dressed in frilly costumes didn’t go anywhere. The Dockers ad comparing the pants to a “little black dress” was mildly amusing. All in all, they were OK, but nothing to rave about.

Security at the Super bowl was very tight. The Secret Service was in charge of the area around the Superdome, and they were on top of everything. Uniformed, armed (M-16’s) guards were at every checkpoint. To get to any destination, even the media compound, you had to pass through several metal detectors, have your bags searched, have your credentials checked, get new credentials, get “wanded” and even patted down at least once. Every guard was cordial and professional but you had to add about an extra hour if you were going anywhere near the Dome.

At the Morial Convention Center, the site for just about every event outside of the game, the security was equally as tight. The league changed the credential procedure, and even issued two different credentials; one for the week and one for the game. Running the Super Bowl is a massive operation and the NFL knows what they’re doing. New Orleans was hosting their ninth Super Bowl, more than any other city. Even the Big Easy has changed how they do things over the years. The Convention Center is a new addition as a host site. More than 1.2 million square feet of contiguous meeting space, it housed everything from Paul Tagliabue’s state of the game address to the NFL Experience. Without a spot like that, any city has to be very creative when hosting the game.

Jacksonville’s Host Committee for Super Bowl XXXIX chose a new leader during their meeting in New Orleans. Mike Kelley, who worked on the Super Bowl in Tampa last year, will now serve as the host committee’s chief operating officer. Mike Weinstein is leaving that job in July in order to run for mayor. Kelley says that the similarities between Tampa and Jacksonville’s geography give him a head start. He plans to incorporate all parts of North Florida and South Georgia, including the beaches, to host a variety of events. The host committee received several lessons in security and planning while at the game in New Orleans.

Is anybody else sick of parity in the NFL? I know I am. Everybody’s calling it a “crazy” year in the league but it’s not crazy it’s just mediocre.

Really.

When Dallas beat Washington on Monday Night Football a couple of weeks ago, everybody thought it might be the Cowboys’ only win of the year. Instead, they’re just a game and a half out of first in the NFC East, with two wins.

A couple of weeks ago I was doing the weekly picks on the Lex and Terry Radio Network and went 11-2. Thinking I had it figured out, I expected the same next week, only to have 4 right, including “out on a limb picks” like Cleveland over Baltimore and the Redskins winning their fist game. At least I thought they were out on a limb.

It’s apparent the draft and the salary cap have caught up to just about everybody, making it a league full of possible 8-8 teams.

Does anybody really like that? I mean even the league can’t like the fact that instead of everybody looking like they’re good, everybody looks like they’re average. Why are players like Lonnie Marts and Tom McManus out of the league? Not because they can’t play, but because as veterans, their minimum salary is too high to warrant keeping them because of their knowledge weighed against a rookie’s potential, and cheap price. The middle year veteran player has been squeezed out of the league, leaving teams with a dozen or so high priced “playmakers” and the rest of the roster filled out with minimum salary rookies and free agents.

So what wins with that formula in the NFL?

Muscle.

Plain and simple, you’ve got to spend your left over money after you pay your stars on muscle. You can’t afford to have extra skill players around. If you don’t pay the price now, it will catch you in a year or so and you’ll have to dismantle, like the Buffalo Bills or the Redskins. You’ve got to have muscle among your middle and late round draft picks, and you can’t miss on many of them. Guys picked after the 3rd round have to come in a play a role on your team.

I subscribe to the dominant team theory. If the Rams are on television, I’ll watch that game because right now they’re the closest thing to a dominant team in the league. Plus they have fun; they throw it around, on-side kick at any time, and don’t mind what people think.

Over the years Green Bay, Dallas, Chicago, San Francisco, Washington, Oakland and others have been dominant teams. Fans like that. They want to see somebody climb to the top of the mountain and claim it as their own for a while. It gives other teams something to shoot for. Right now, everybody’s looking at 9-7, and that will get some team in the playoffs every year.

Yawn.

I’m with Wayne Weaver on this one. The NFL owners should have blown the whole thing up and started over. Even Weaver’s idea of 16 teams in each conference playing one game against everybody else and one game against the other conference sounded intriguing.

Wild, but intriguing.

Instead, the owners opted for the “old” rivalries, ones that have been around, in some cases, since the league started. With the league’s current parity and the salary cap, rivalries aren’t a real part of the game for very long anyway. Everybody’s going to be average, with one or two road wins determining what teams get into the playoffs.

I brought this up to my friend Tom, the Redskins fan, who scoffed at the idea of leaving Washington in the East and moving Dallas to the West, where they belong.

“You guys won’t want to play the Cowboys. For a while, they’re going to stink,” I explained. “And that’s just how we like it,” Tom quickly responded with glee.

There are some divisions that make perfect sense. The new AFC North has Cleveland, Cincinnati, Baltimore and Pittsburgh. They can all lament about bad weather, how they get a bad rap, how they play real football, blah, blah, blah.

The NFC South has a real regional flair. Tampa Bay, Atlanta, New Orleans and Carolina. I like that division. They can all drive to each other’s towns and say how much better they are then each other (behind their backs of course).

The rest seem fine except for the AFC South, where the Jaguars have been placed. Tennessee is a real rival, on the field and geographically. Houston could turn out to be a glamour team. New owner, Dom Capers as their coach, expensive stadium, large television market. As an expansion team, they have to go somewhere, and it’s a non-stop plane ride from Jacksonville.

Indianapolis? I mean Indy? What are they doing in a division with Jacksonville? Indianapolis has as much in common with Nashville, Houston and Jacksonville as, well as just about nothing. Domed stadium, not really Midwest, not really Northeast, it’s not a good fit for the division in any way. The only factor for Indy’s placement was the Irsays’ refusal to be in the same division with the Ravens, saying they didn’t want to have a trip to Baltimore every year. Talk about weenies. They moved out of Baltimore, Baltimore didn’t throw them out. If they wanted a real rivalry, they’d have demanded to be in a division with the Ravens.

New rivalries will develop quickly and fans will get to see all kinds of teams come through their towns every year. The preseason games will spice up the schedules and everybody will make money. They had a chance though. A chance to really excite a lot of people, but instead, stayed the course.

Occasionally, I wish they would stray off course.

Just a little.