The Hall of Disappointment came calling again Tuesday for the Kens, Anderson and Riley. No surprise there. Dog bites man.
Both snubs sting the same. The favored reasons are a little thin: They played their entire careers in l’il ol’ Cincinnati (so what?), they weren’t as household as two players at their positions in the same division (Mel Blount and Terry Bradshaw and so what?) and, in Riley’s case, didn’t make enough Pro Bowls.
Um, Kenny Anderson made four Pro Bowls. His peer Terry Bradshaw made three. Tell me again about Pro Bowls.
We’ve lamented Anderson’s omission at length. Not so much Riley’s. Riley is one of those guys about whom I’d say, “I never knew him, but I wish I had.’’ Modest, giving, gracious. For a decade, the laid-back heart of some very good Bengals teams.
Riley had 65 career INTS, 5th all time. The four players ahead of him – and the three behind him – all are in the Hall.
What’s more, Riley has never even been named a finalist. Every time he has been up for a vote to be up for a vote, he has lost out. That’s partly because the rule says only one Senior Finalist can be considered for the following year’s Hall class. It's a bad rule. Cliff Branch, the great Oakland wideout, was selected this year by a five-person committee made up of HOF voters.
That makes 34 years, I believe, during which Riley has not even been a finalist.
When does Flyover Nation catch a break?
Here’s part of the answer, given by Riley himself, to The Undefeated a few years ago:
“This is my personality,” he said. “It’s the way I was brought up — parents, grandparents, everybody. Let your work speak for itself and be humble. We had a coach on the Bengals, Paul Brown, who felt it was your job to do certain things. If you got an interception, if you got a sack, he’d say, ‘That’s what I’m paying you for.’ He didn’t want superstars.”
Unless said superstar was the head coach.
Ideally, PR should have nothing to do with greatness. The fact that it does in this case reflects poorly on those doing the electing.
Cris Collinsworth on Ken Riley, also to The Undefeated:
“I probably learned more football from Riley than from anyone I played for or against. Everything I did that worked against everybody else never worked against him. But as soon as he would pick off a pass on my route or beat me to a spot, he’d tell me why, explain what I’d done wrong. He wanted me to be better because that made the team better.”
There’s always next year. Already, there have been too many next years. Each one is more disappointing than the one before.
Now, then. . .
BULLPEN BLOWS IT AGAIN. . . An observant and cynical Mobster noted after last night’s 4-7 L at Milwaukee, if MLB played 7-inning games, the Reds would be undefeated. Not quite, but point taken.
DBell played it by the book, removing Mahle after 104 pitches with two outs in the 6th. Lorenzen finished the inning. Reds led, 4-1. Then the Brewers scored four in the 7th off him. With Devin Williams and Josh Hader tossing BBs, it’s tough to rally against them late. And so it goes.
Meantime, San Diego, St. Louis and Philly all lost, so no harm, no foul. The regular season likely will end looking exactly the way it does now, at least when it comes to the playoffs. No matter what the Reds do in Milwaukee the next couple games.
The only consequential happening last night was Tejay Antone’s injury. It looked bad. Any time a pitcher calls for the trainer, say a little prayer.
IF YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS, PLEASE FILL ME IN. . The ACC, Big 10 and Pac-12 have some handshake agreement to form an alliance, for nebulous reasons and with no concrete plans about anything.
“Stability’’ is what the high-ups claim they want. Sure. Forty-one schools coming together on the fly, with no connective tissue. What do Washington State and Rutgers have in common, really?
“What became clear in our conversations is that our institutions share values, interests and the genuine and dedicated commitment to the educational commitments of our world-class institutions,” ACC commissioner Jim Phillips said.
The only thing worse than saying silly things is saying silly things that insult the collective intelligence. This “alliance’’ is nothing more than a reaction to the SEC’s power grab of Texas and Oklahoma. Please don’t pretend it’s about books and classes.
For UC, this means what it meant already. Jobs 1, 2 and 10 for John Cunningham involve getting the Bearcats a seat at the big boy table. The TV money trough. UC’s credentials have never been stronger. Who knows when this craziness will shake out. When the music stops, the Bearcats better have a chair in which to sit.
AND NOW I’M A JERRY JONES FAN. . . The Dallas Cowboys owner said this on a local radio station, while urging people to get vaxxed:
“Everyone has a right to make their own decisions regarding their health and their body. I believe in that completely – until your decision as to yourself impacts negatively many others. Then the common good takes over,” Jones said.
Yessir.
CHARLIE WATTS. . . As with the passing of all well-known people we admire, we grieve as much for ourselves as for those loved ones the departed leave behind. We’re reminded of our own mortality.
“The subtle, stoic heartbeat of The Rolling Stones for almost 60 years’’ was how the BBC described Watts Tuesday, upon his death at age 80. So true. Charlie had his typical, cliched rock-n-roll issues with substance abuse. But he was different. Private, a bigger fan of jazz than rock, a guy who didn’t need the fame and adulation and who didn’t enjoy touring.
Rolling Stone magazine:
“As much as Jagger’s lyrics or Richards’ riffs, Watts’ timekeeping on key Stones songs made them key Stones songs. The loose, almost jazzy feel on “19th Nervous Breakdown,” his groove lock with Richards on “Beast of Burden,” his extraordinary control with a very odd rhythm on “Get Off of My Cloud,” the bounce of “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” his ice-cold snare on “Gimme Shelter” — all of these are masterclasses in serving the song and shaping it at the same time.’’
Joan Jett described him as "the most elegant and dignified drummer in rock and roll" who "played exactly what was needed - no more - no less".
Charlie’s solid-ness allowed Mick and Keith to be Mick and Keith. RIP.
TUNE O’ THE DAY. . . You were expecting the Beatles? I’ve said this before: Gimme Shelter is the finest rock song ever made. Menacing, bruising, a little scary. Merry Clayton’s soaring interlude, Keith’s perfect solo. . . and Charlie’s steady trucking from his drum-kit stool. Deserted Island Tune #1.
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