10/28/2003 - Football
How The (Sports) World Turns

How Quickly the (Sports) World Turns

By Bob Socci

Back in the early nineties, when Tiger Stadium still stood at the corner of Detroit's Michigan and Trumbull Avenues, perspective could be gained simply by reading the writing on the wall.

Or, better yet, by heading the words of manager George "Sparky" Anderson.

One of the true gentlemen of his game, Anderson led Cincinnati's "Big Red Machine" to baseball dominance in the mid-seventies and, a decade later, guided the Tigers to one of the greatest seasons of all-time.

A world champion with two separate franchises, representing two different leagues, he obviously knows success. And, more importantly, how fleeting it can be.

No doubt, Sparky Anderson already understood the meaning of the sign that hung in his office.

"EACH 24 HOURS, THE WORLD TURNS OVER ON SOMEONE WHO IS SITTING ON TOP OF IT."

Especially the sports world.

It certainly had for Anderson, whose 26-year managerial career included 2,194 victories and earned him a Hall-of-Fame induction.

Only two years after his Reds won a second straight title he was shown the door out of Cincy. And five years after his Tigers parlayed a 35-5 start into 104 victories the same Detroit franchise suffered through 103 losses.

No wonder then, when the world is turned upside down, like it was for Anderson, there's no point in looking back.

"I've got my faults," he once said, "but living in the past isn't one of them - there's no future in it."

This afternoon, with a steady rain collecting outside on a dreary Monday, I found myself thinking about that sign on Sparky's wall and the saying long ago uttered from his lips.

Not that I was focused on the Reds or Tigers, specifically. Rather, I was thinking about another team in a different sport.

(Forgive me, for in the limited scope through which I view life at large, just about everything somehow, someway relates to baseball.)

Just last Saturday - like the previous three - it seemed the Navy Midshipmen sat atop their own little world in the college football universe.

Entering their Homecoming with a three-game winning streak, with nearly 35,000 welcoming them back to Annapolis on a sun-filled afternoon, the Midshipmen took a 14-0 lead over their guests from Delaware.

The Blue Hens had gained a single yard - in other words, a measly three feet - by running six plays in their first two series.

Meanwhile, in the same number of possessions, Navy ran 11 plays from scrimmage, totaling 129 yards and two touchdowns.

But that's where I must borrow from the game of baseball once more.

Among the many axioms surely expressed by Sparky Anderson and every other manager is one that suggests, "Momentum is only as good as the next day's starting pitcher."

Well, in football sometimes momentum is only as good as the very next play.

On Saturday, it happened to be on Delaware's 11th play of the game, when the Blue Hens faked a punt on 4th-and-2 from their own 40-yard line.

Sean Bleiler took the direct snap, raced 24 yards to a first down and injected new life into his team as well as the fans following them from the 'First State' to the 'Free State'.

UD eventually scored three touchdowns, answered only by a Navy field goal and a last-gasp pass that fell incomplete in the end zone in the final seconds of a 21-17 decision.

Despite such a promising start, the Mids committed three very costly turnovers against a defense - to its credit - that was well prepared for the top rushing offense in Division I-A.

Averaging more than 320 yards per game, Navy finished the day with 180 on the ground. In contrast, the Mids gained 212 yards through the air. Indeed, they were out of character.

And so too were the Blue Hens. They were supposed to strike quickly, but instead consumed enough of the clock to finish with an overall advantage in time of possession.

When the outcome was settled, quarterback Craig Candeto took responsibility for the loss.

"I feel like I didn't do a good job leading the offense today," he said in a post-game press conference. "It's never a one-man show, but I'm going to sit here and take accountability for that."

Just that morning, he was the subject of a glowing article in The Sun. The story's headline referred to the senior co-captain as "Navy's turnaround artist."

Such timing reminds us of what can make athletics so gosh-darn agonizing. Irony can be cruel.

The same guy rightfully being credited for much of his team's success is - hours later - at the podium placing blame squarely on his own shoulders.

Just another example of how games, like life itself, are truly fickle.

With one swing of the bat against the Red Sox, Aaron Boone becomes King of Gotham. With another against the Marlins, he's just another target of the not-so-endearing Bronx cheer.

On the same day he might have been seen on TV delivering Chunky Soup with his Mom, a struggling Dononvan McNabb finds himself the subject of comments that spark a national controversy.

But, here's what makes sport so utterly engaging.

The earth keeps spinning.

Aaron Boone gets to rise from his axis to take his cuts again.

Donovan McNabb can use his legs, arm, heart and head to play his way back to the Pro Bowl.

And Craig Candeto may again meet the press, only to credit his teammates in triumph, rather than accept the fault for defeat.

For the rest of us, what's done is done. No sense in dwelling on Delaware.

After all, there's no future in it.