I wanted to go to South Bend, Ind., two weeks ago for two reasons. One was to cover the Brian-Kelly-to-Notre-Dame presser; the other was to see the hallowed campus of Notre Dame. It was nearly 10 hours of driving round trip, but I got a pretty good story out of it on CBSSports.com and I got some good color of the event, just in case.
Oh, and Touchdown Jesus was pretty cool.
RIO GRANDE, Puerto Rico – It was the week after he broke his arm and a couple days after the Bengals placed him on Injured Reserve. We spotted Chris Henry, arm in a cast, in the locker room, and about four of us reporters walked over to his corner locker to see how things were going.
We asked fairly innocuous questions – did you know the arm was broken immediately; how frustrating is this injury when it comes at a time like this; do you want to be back in a Bengals uniform next year? Like usual, Henry was soft-spoken and pleasant. He wasn’t a great talker – you might have to combine two or three answers together to get a three-line quote for the story – but he was usually agreeable. For a pro athlete, much of the time, that’s all for which you can hope.
But then, just as we were wrapping up an interview that was probably 2 or 3 minutes long, one reporter asked something like this, “Eh, Chris, some people would say that since you’re not going to be around the team on a day-to-day basis, you might fall back into your old ways. What do you think?”*
*Since I’m off the mainland and can’t check notes or tape recordings, this was how I recollect the exchange. It’s not word for word, but the tone of the question is accurate.
This was an interesting query. Henry, as you probably know, was not a poster child for good deeds since the Bengals drafted him in 2005. He had been arrested multiple times, suspended by the NFL multiple times. He once was arrested on gun charges while he was wearing his own Bengals jersey. He had been accused of providing alcohol to minors. He was ticketed for a DUI. A local judge called him a “one-man crime wave.”
He was obviously a troubled soul.
But when the Bengals released him in April of 2008, casting him into unemployment, he apparently began to change. Mike Brown, the Bengals owner who thinks of himself as a redeemer, brought him back to the Bengals squad in August of 2008, over the objections of coach Marvin Lewis, and during the 2009 training camp, Henry seemed poised to play a big role in Cincinnati’s offense. He caught a touchdown pass in all four preseason games, and as the fourth receiver on the squad, he thought he could make a major impact.
The impact was less than major – he recorded a pedestrian 12 catches for 236 yards and two TDs – but his off-the-field transformation was remarkable. That was the word, anyway. He was staying out of trouble, and he was planning to marry his fiancée, make himself into a family man. But then, he broke his arm, and he found himself finished for the season.
The reporter’s question – some people are saying you might screw up again – caught Henry off guard.
“Who’s saying that?” he asked.
“Eh, uh, I guess I am,” the reporter said.
I don’t remember the answer Henry gave, but it was something along the lines of, “Don’t worry about me. I’ve changed. I’ll be just fine.”
That exchange from last month was the first thing I thought about when I saw online that Henry had fallen off the back of a pick-up truck during a domestic argument and was in bad shape. Then I thought: if he hadn’t suffered his broken arm, Henry would still be with the Bengals. He wouldn’t have been in Charlotte arguing with his fiancée. He wouldn’t have jumped onto the back of a pickup truck shirtless and the cast still on his healing arm. He wouldn’t have reportedly threatened suicide. He wouldn’t have fallen off. He wouldn’t have died.
Coach Marvin Lewis called Henry a “beacon of hope.” I’m not sure I agree with those exact words. But here’s what I believe – Henry finally realized he had to make changes and that he was trying to turn his life around. Trying really hard. He was trying to be the best father and the best domestic partner he could be. He made a bad decision during an argument with a loved one, and it cost him his life. The way he died doesn’t make him a bad man. The year leading up to his death showed who he truly was trying to become.
Sadly, we’ll never know the end result. And that’s a shame. He could have really had something to say.
When Sean Miller resigned as Xavier’s basketball coach to take the job at grand old Arizona following the 2008-09 season, I figured Chris Mack – Miller’s right-hand man on the bench – would get a shot at the job Miller was leaving. At first, I didn’t think he’d actually get the job.
I’d covered the Musketeers for three seasons, and I got to know Mack fairly well when he was Miller’s top assistant. I like him.
But I wasn’t sure he was the right guy for the job. I thought Xavier, with two Elite Eight appearances since 2004, could draw in somebody more high profile. A coach who had run his own program before. A coach with more accomplishments. Ultimately, Xavier athletic director Mike Bobinski went with his gut – and the recommendation of Miller – and hired Mack. I’ve questioned Bobinski about the move: are you sure Mack was the guy you wanted, the right guy for the job? And every time, Bobinski – whose judgment I trust tremendously – has been resolute. He’s sure.
For the latest issue of Cincinnati Profile magazine, the editors wanted me to write about Mack. How would he deal with the expectations that continued to filter throughout the Xavier fan base, even as the exhaust from Miller’s jet plane out of town barely had evaporated? How would Mack perform as a head coach?
I sat down with Mack for about a half-hour, and the interview was perfectly fine. But honestly, I had a tough time writing this story. Some stories are like that. Not sure of the lede, I had to work for a way to begin the story. I had to work hard, harder than normal to find the right words. After having just read it, though, I think it comes out pretty well. Mack comes off pretty well* also.
*Enough so where, before a recent game vs. Kent State, Mack spotted me in the hallway outside the Cintas Center media room, stopped in his tracks and said he appreciated the article.
His coaching career hasn’t started so splendidly, though. The Musketeers are 5-3 after putting up an uninspired effort against Kansas State on Tuesday. Yes, in Miller’s first season, his squad went 17-12 and missed the NCAA tournament. Fans blasted him. Mack, I imagine, will begin receiving the same treatment soon if Xavier doesn’t improve. I still like him, but ask me if he’s the right guy for the job, and the only answer I can give is this:
I’m still not sure.
I stole that headline from somebody – maybe ESPN.com – but it tells the story of the Kentucky-North Carolina basketball game from last Saturday pretty well.
The first time I worked a game at Rupp Arena – the first time I’d been inside the building at all – was when I worked at the Red & Black student newspaper and covered the University of Georgia basketball team. The arena, from what I remember, was packed – probably sold out. But as the game began, the crowd wasn’t loud*. The fans weren’t exactly silent, but it wasn’t a great atmosphere. I remember thinking it had been a “wine and cheese” crowd. Since that 2000 contest, I’ve been back to Rupp maybe a half-dozen times. The atmosphere hadn’t changed much since. Still crowded, still laid back.
*That could have been a function of the fact that the Bulldogs, though an NCAA tournament team that year, weren’t exactly filled with superstars and perhaps not as exciting as other squads in the conference.
Last week, though, I covered the Kentucky-North Carolina game for CBSSports.com. The Wildcats were ranked fifth; the Tar Heels No. 10. The place obviously had sold out – more than 24,000 for a new Rupp Arena record. It was loud. Spine-chillingly loud. Awesomely loud. The last time I covered a game in front of a crowd like that was the Mike Tyson-Danny Williams heavyweight fight in Louisville’s Freedom Hall.
It was incredible. And I’ll never think about Rupp Arena in the same way. In a good way.
A few weeks ago, I was handed an assignment by the Associated Press. The news organization wanted to write a story regarding concussions in the NFL and how players in the league thought about them and if they thought they were protected. The AP editors wanted five players from each team to take part in a five-question survey (no anonymous names; everybody had to be on the record) that dealt with their personal experiences with concussions.
Here is the AP story that ran, and it tells of some fascinating results.
This is one of the responses to the story by the NFL Players Association. And this is the story the NY Times ran today regarding how the league will now use independent neurologists while treating players with brain injuries.
It was extremely interesting to hear the answers these players gave me on what has become such an important issue. I actually thought I’d have a tougher time convincing players to submit to an interview, but only one man turned me down. The other five I approached were gracious and thoughtful. Since none of the five were quoted in the AP story (with the sorta exception of LB Rey Maualuga’s sorta quote about speaking gibberish in the huddle), I thought it’d be cool to run those interviews so you could see what the Bengals players had to say about the issue.
Here were the questions I asked:
1. Have you ever sustained a concussion that forced you to miss playing time? If yes, how many and at what level?
2. Do you worry about getting a concussion or not? If so, do you worry about it as much – or more? – than other injuries?
3. Have you ever hidden or downplayed the effects of a concussion?
4. Have you followed the recent developments in the news about concussions and dementia among NFL players, including the recent congressional hearing on the topic? (If so, what are your thoughts?)
5. Do you think the game is significantly safer now than in the past, particularly with regard to the risk of concussions? Or do you think it’s about the same now as it has been? Or is it less safe?
And here were the answers:
Frostee Rucker, Defensive end
1. Yes, I had a concussion last preseason, but I didn’t miss a game. It was a minor thing. I got a little dizzy, and that’s about it.
2. No, I really don’t. There are so many other things to worry about. It’s the game of football, and the thing I worry about is making sure I’m in the right spots.
3. No, I can’t say that I have. We’re all aware of it in the locker room, but we know our training staff will take care of it if that ever come up.
4. Yeah, I have. It’s very interesting. You asked me if I’ve hidden things, but some people do hide things. That’s why certain precautions have to be taken. You have to know your business and with life in the NFL, on and off the field. It’s good for everyone to be aware of what’s going on.
5. It’s about the same. We’re still playing a brutal game. Let’s not sugarcoat that at all. Our staff does a good job making sure we have enough air in our helmets and they’re making sure they’re working on safety each game. We do a good job here. I can’t speak for everybody else, but we do a good job here.
Rey Maualuga, rookie linebacker
1. No, you mean did a concussion made me miss this game or the next game? I’ve had concussions in games, and I wouldn’t know how I got it. I wouldn’t know the play I got it in, but I’d be in there talking gibberish to the other linebackers. Other than that, I never missed any other time. I’ve had four or five in college. I won’t remember anything, but I’ll still be in the game. Or I’ll go out there and talk to the doctor and say, ‘I had a little ding.’ Monday, I’ll do a computer test, and it’d be the same as it was when I did it in camp.
2. It’s something, especially if you play defense, that lingers in the back of your head all the time. We like to be the ones giving the concussions, but sometimes, things happen. The worst thing that could happen would be getting my knees blown out. I worry about that more than I would worry about a concussion.
3. I’ve had one and not told anybody about it. but they’d pretty much know because of the questions I’ll be asking. If I’m supposed to go somewhere and I don’t, they’ll tell me to go and I’ll yell at them, ‘No, you go.’
4. No.
5. I don’t think there’s any difference. Football is football. Football is a contact sport, and everybody is going to be hitting. There has been some safety rules – I don’t know about concussions – as far as the horse-collar tackling and rules on the quarterback and things like that.
Clark Harris, long-snapper
1. No.
2. No, you can’t worry about stuff like that. Maybe sometimes if you get hit in the head, you sit up on the field and worry about it a little bit. But other than that, you can’t worry about getting injured.
3. No.
4. Yeah, it’s hard not to notice the news about how all of that can lead to Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s. It’s something I’ve been following a little bit.
5. Well, I get a new helmet every year, and with all the new technology that comes out, I don’t see how it wouldn’t be safer. I look at the old films with guys playing the old-school style with just the two bars going across their face. I think, with these new helmets, it’s got to be safer.
Andrew Whitworth, offensive tackle
1. No
2. Yeah, I do. But moreso, I worry about guys who don’t understand what a concussion is. I’m more worried about sustaining a head injury that I don’t realize is a concussion. I really don’t know how guys know for sure. But in this game, the realistic part of it is, especially being a linemen, head injuries and feeling pain with a headache is just natural. That’s more my concern. Not knowing if it’s a concussion.
3. No
4. A lot of guys are more conscious about it. They realize that this is something that can affect them later on. It’s something not a lot of guys understand. On this team, you’ve got Ben (Utecht). Not a lot of guys understood what all went into that and what they can expect down the road. I think we’ve learned a little bit from having a guy on our team that went through that.
5. I think it’s the same. You’ve got guys who are playing for their livelihood and for their families. To say that guys aren’t playing through some kind of concussion … guys play through pain every single week – headaches and all that. You just don’t know if guys are entering the field with headaches or head injuries where, if they take the right hit, it could be severe. You just don’t know.
Jordan Palmer, third-string quarterback
1. Yes, I got knocked out my sophomore year in college out of a game. I tried to run the ball, got dazed a little bit and sat out the rest of the game. I was fine to play the next week.
2. I’ve played three preseason games now and I’ve been hit plenty of times. I haven’t really thought about it. If I played more, I don’t think I would think about it much.
3. I think when you get dazed a little bit, you never think you have one. That’s when the doctors come over and say that you do. I think that’s part of it. But I’ve never lied and said, ‘No, no, I didn’t have one last week” when I actually did.
4. I haven’t followed it much.
5. I think it’s the same. In the NFL, I have state of the art cleats and shoulder pads and stuff. But I wear the exact same helmet I wore in Pop Warner. Now, there are other helmets available to me. It’s not the NFL or the Bengals fault, but I wear the same Riddell, filled-up-with-air deal that I wore when I was a kid. It hasn’t changed that much. But then I see Andre Caldwell, who looks like he’s wearing a lacrosse helmet.
So yeah, players are concerned and many of them lie about sustaining concussions. But they know the consequences are real, and if the NFL isn’t concerned when a guy like Rey Maualuga has suffered five of them and has admitted to hiding it in the past from coaches, that’s a real problem. Hopefully, one that will continue to be addressed.
Posted in NFL, Uncategorized
Tagged Andrew Whitworth, Clark Harris, concussions, Frostee Rucker, Jordan Palmer, Rey Maualuga
So, you want to hang out and pick up a signed copy of Bearcats Rising in the process? You have yet another chance. This Thursday, 6 p.m., Barnes & Noble, Newport on the Levee with former Bearcats and current Bengals punter Kevin Huber and former Bearcats/Bengals/Patriots DB Artrell Hawkins.
Come on out. It’ll be good times.
Brian Kelly sees the similarities between Syracuse and UC. He can think back to 2007, his first year at the helm of the Bearcats squad, and he can compare it to this season’s Syracuse squad – in its first year under coach Doug Marrone.
He comes to this conclusion: the Orange of 2009 and the Bearcats of 2007 are more similar than you might think.
“The first thing that stands out is Doug Marrone has done a great job of getting players to play hard for four quarters,” Kelly said. “I told our team this is the first time I’ve seen some similarities to our team in the first year in terms of playing hard. Everybody has been focused on Syracuse’s quarterback situation. (Greg) Paulus did a good job of coming into this year and adding some maturity and stability to the offense.”
Read the rest here.
Posted in Katz on the Cats
Tagged Brian Kelly, Doug Marrone, Greg Paulus, Zach Collaros
Bearcats Rising signing, Colerain, LaRosa’s Pizzeria, Kerry Coombs. With Lonnie Wheeler and John Baskin, who collaborated on Cincinnati Schoolboy Legends. Coombs will sign both books.
Seriously, what could be better? Thursday, Nov. 5, 7-9 p.m.
Come out and meet Coombs in his element. Here. Should be a good time.
Naturally, the topic of the day at the weekly presser was the health of Tony Pike and what would happen if he can’t play Saturday vs. Louisville. The big news was that Pike underwent a procedure this morning on his left arm to repair the plate that was inserted last season and was damaged again last Thursday in the third quarter of the South Florida game.
Pike won’t practice today or Wednesday, and from there, his status for the Louisville game on Saturday is unclear.
“We have to get the swelling out of there first,” Brian Kelly said. “It’s something we have to manage day to day.
Read the rest here.
Posted in Katz on the Cats
A day after Cincinnati beat Baltimore to move to the top of the AFC North Division, a day after showering defensive coordinator Mike Zimmer with hugs and support, the Bengals opened their hearts and talked about family. And about love. And about courage. Hardly anybody talked about football.
Mostly, us reporters asked – and the players talked – about Vikki Zimmer, Mike Zimmer’s 50-year-old wife who died suddenly Thursday. She was a woman who made them cookies on the Mondays after they won a game. She was the mother figure who made newcomer Roy Williams so much more comfortable in his first days in Dallas. She was the one who loved the players and the one who soaked in the gratitude they held for her.
A sampling of the comments from today:
“If you ever did anything nice for her, she wanted to, right away in turn, do something nice for you, which a lot of people don’t do,” Bengals coach Marvin Lewis said. “She wanted to always reciprocate right away. I think that’s what we’ll all remember about her.”
“(When I first got here), I remember coach Zim caught me and said, ‘My wife really wants to meet you. She said you’re her new favorite player,'” defensive tackle Domata Peko said. “She was a sweetheart. Every Monday after a win, we’d come in to watch the film, and she’d make us cookies and snacks. She loved the team so much.”
“She was family,” Williams said. “She was like a mother figure to me. She was always sending me notes, making sure I was OK. She will be missed. I really feel like she was the rock of that family, holding them together. I’m not saying they’re going to fall apart now, but she was the bright spot in Zim’s life.”
That last point is tremendous. She was the bright spot in his life, the mother of his children, the one who made the brownies with the marshmallow frosting that Williams would have to sneak after Zimmer left the room. She died on Thursday. He coached on Sunday. How did he do it? How did he summon the strength to call defensive plays? How did he keep his emotions in check on the sideline? How did he not break down in tears?
When the Bengals discovered the death, they let Zimmer decide his next step, his next path. “I don’t want to be a distraction,” he told Lewis. The Bengals coach assured his friend that he wouldn’t, that he could fly to Baltimore with the team, or later Saturday, or Sunday, or not at all. But a distraction? No. His players love him too much to cast him in that light.
The CBS cameras managed to catch Zimmer a few times on the sideline Sundsay, speaking words into his headset. Vikki, I’m sure, was somewhere in his mind that was trying to process the football game taking place in front of him. At the end of the game, with the Bengals win assured, the cameras zoomed in on him again. He was eaten alive by his team’s hugs, by players saying they had won the game for him and for his family.
“He needed us,” defensive end Jonathan Fanene said. “But we needed him too.”
Then, in the locker room after the game, Lewis awarded him the team ball. For courage, for the inspiration he gave to his players, for the performance of his unit. For, most of all, being braver than most anybody could hope to be.
I still don’t know how he did it.
Posted in NFL
Tagged Domata Peko, Jonathan Fanene, Marvin Lewis, Mike Zimmer, Roy Williams, Vikki Zimmer
Josh Katzowitz - Sports Writer/Author/Editor 