Tackling the fine line of expressionism in today's NFL

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By HUBERT MIZELL

© St. Petersburg Times,
published July 22, 2001

Art can be tricky. Just ask Rudy Giuliani.

This season, the NFL plans to tinker with American expressionism. Some of the new strokes, I'm sure, will make many of us cheer, as pro football's zebras, as decreed by King Paul, will work at diluting taunting, eliminating sack dances and halting end-zone spikes and dances while bringing more decorum to a violent, immensely popular game.

Rambunctiousness can be disgusting, even obscene. To some, I mean. It is, after all, supposed to be sport.

But, without question, the potential for overzealousness among game officials is a concern.

Draw the line, but where?

How tight can anti-showoff harnesses become before 15-yard penalties diminish creative passions, like with Tampa Bay's blustery Warren Sapp?

How happy will a TD-scoring fellow and teammates be allowed to become, say after reception of a 60-yard tipped pass to steal a 34-32 game as the clock hits 00:00? What if such a play is called back by a yellow flag?

Can we possibly reach September before critics are bellowing "NFL: No Fun League!" at unprecedented decibels? Might this pursuit of more gentlemanly football result in commissioner Paul Tagliabue hearing murmurs about racism? I mean, who doesn't think this is a ploy aimed most of all at the exotic creativity of African-American players?

Control should be upgraded, but with care.

TONY AWARD: Among the reasons Tony Gwynn should be a unanimous first-ballot Hall of Famer in 2007: 18 consecutive seasons a .300 batter, 33 hitting streaks of 10 games or more, .338 lifetime average, eschewing free-agency megawealth to spend all his 20 seasons with the Padres, 5 consecutive 200-hit years with averages of .350-plus and a mere 427 strikeouts in 9,234 career at-bats (1 in every 21.6). Nobody in history has received all baseball-writer Hall votes in a first chance, but Gwynn and Cal Ripken absolutely merit it, though we can count on at least one press-box knucklehead being a holdout.

UPPERCUTS: Can't you imagine middle-school recruiting trickery going on in Jacksonville, where 7-footer Jason Bennett is about to enter eighth grade? He's 13. Still growing. Did anybody see coaches Billy Donovan or Tom Izzo on a Duval County sidewalk? Has the NBA ever drafted a high-school freshman? ... Anthony Munoz has to be undergoing fatherhood agony, as gifted 300-pound son Michael, a University of Tennessee football sophomore, has a second knee surgery in six weeks. Dad was maybe the best NFL offensive tackle ever, but will the kid ever get his chance at such excellence? ... Nepotism is healthy NFL sport. Malcolm Glazer's three sons, all Bucs executive vice presidents, are mere kinship also-rans to Chicago Bears heirs, where franchise pooh-bahs include seven McCaskeys, and likewise the Steelers, with four Rooneys in the operation.

READER'S SHOUT: Letter from Dave Query says:

"I couldn't believe your column boosting Jose Canseco for the Baseball Hall of Fame. This guy is a big stiff. He can't really play baseball. If it weren't for the DH rule, he'd be where he belongs, the minors.

"He's not the only player whose credits I question. Another is Reggie Jackson. He hit a lot of homers but was a mediocre outfielder and struck out five times for every home run."

POSTCARD: Deep-breathing Middle America oxygen, spending a cool summer night at Gypsy Hill Park, near Woodrow Wilson's birthplace in Staunton, Va., hearing the Stonewall Brigade, a band with 18th century roots, delivering marches and nostalgia, bringing smiles to scores perched on a lawn, with Star-Spangled Banner finale, as little children kept chasing lightning bugs.

HERE'S WHATEVER: Word from Chuck Deckle informs that recent whatever happened? subject Renee Richards, short-lived tennis personality who was Dr. Richard Raskin before sex-altering surgery, has quietly passed a 40th year as a New York pediatric ophthalmologist. ... And, re another whatever, former Dodgers pitching flash Fernando Valenzuela: the Mexican-born left-hander lives not far from Dodger Stadium but refuses all invitations to games, celebrations or reunions, Dallas Morning News columnist Blackie Sherrod says. He still apparently is miffed that the Dodgers ditched him in 1991 just two weeks before a $2.5-million bonus was earned.

Whatever happened to Dave Concepcion?

- Hubert's e-mail address: mmizell02@earthlink.net. By mail, it's P.O. Box 726, Nellysford VA 22958.

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