Reaching For The Lance Briggs Jersey

At one point, ten years ago, it was socially acceptable for a grown man to wear a jersey while going about his everyday life. Not so in 2011. Jersey-wearing has been relegated to either the paying fan in attendance, or (usually football) fan taking in the game at a bar. I'm not sure if I'm alone in this assumption, but I tend to judge people based on the jersey they're wearing. These assumptions are wide-ranging and are based on anything from the player's persona to the age and make of the jersey. For example, a LeBron James Heat jersey warrants a 0 on the 1-10 Respect Scale from me, whereas a Detlef Schrempf Sonics pre-1995 logo change jersey warrants a 10.

I have an issue with men who wear the jersey of a player who has long since played for a particular team. To this day, I spot Cade McNown, Kyle Orton, and Muhsin Muhammad jerseys around Chicago-area bars. I'm sorry, you may be the world's biggest Greg Olsen or Nathan Vasher fan, but those Bears jerseys no longer have any business being worn out in public. There's a few exceptions to the former player rule. First, if a player is retired and his best years were spent with the team on the jersey then it's OK to wear. However, if this former player also spent the twilight of his career, struggling to stay on with a few other teams, these jerseys are unacceptable. If Green Bay fans want to forgive and forget and dust off the ol' Brett Favre number 4, then that's fine. Brett Favre Jets and Vikings jerseys should remain in the back of the closet collecting dust.  Jerseys of a franchise's all-time greats are also acceptable in my book. You'll see a smattering of 34s, 51s, and 89s at Soldier Field this year. It's good to pay homage.

When considering which player's jersey to purchase, I have six simple rules:

1) Don't be fooled by the fan favorite that somehow is beloved even though he sucks at playing his sport. Tony Campana and Brian Scalabrine are better examples than any Bears player.
2) Stay away from the big-contract guy your team just snagged away. This is more of an issue in basketball or baseball where contracts are guaranteed and player productions sometimes falls off once they receive their payday. Julius Peppers is a good football counterexample.
3) Beware of the one-year wonder. These are sometimes hard to identify, but a good bet is on a guy who was drafted in the late-first or second round of the NBA draft, a closer, or a Pro Bowl special teams player.
4) Make sure the player in question will be with your team for at least three more years -- there's nothing worse (in the jersey purchasing world) than ponying up 80+ dollars for a jersey of a player who is traded or leaves as a free-agent a year later. It is almost impossible to predict trades, but age, production, contract situation, team needs, and how close or far away a team is from contending are good indicators. If there's even a hint of a player testing the free-agent waters, hold off on his jersey purchase.
5) If a player how gotten into even the slightest bit of off the field trouble, reevaluate the jersey purchase. This is the hardest point to adhere to, mainly because an athlete's character is often misunderstood or overblown to move along a slow news day.
6) Under no circumstances should you buy a LeBron James Heat jersey.

Lance Briggs is the only NFL jersey I have ever owned. I always wanted an NFL jersey to wear on Sundays. As luck would have it, my girlfriend and my anniversary was/is a week before the start of football season. She needed a gift idea and I was more than happy to suggest a Bears jersey. I wrote last year about the general lack of excitement surrounding the Bears before the start of the season. At the time, Briggs seemed to be the only Bear worthy of a jersey purchase.

I proudly wore my Briggs jersey during every game last year. Little did I know, I broke rule number 5 on my list. Lance Briggs hasn't had any pressing off the field issues -- unless you want to count the time he crashed his Lamborghini on Edens Expressway and left the scene under mysterious circumstances. It's kind of amazing this didn't draw more ire than it did.

Briggs does however have a reputation for being a bit of headcase. After being hit with the franchise tag in 2007 to prevent him from becoming a free-agent he demanded a trade, and, among other things said, "I've played my last snap for them. I'll never play another down for Chicago again." The Bears caved and Briggs received a 6-year deal worth up to 36 million before the 2007 season and is currently looking for a new deal.

I understand the lack of guaranteed contracts combined with football's inherent injury risk places players in a difficult situation. They feel they should be compensated relative to what the next guy with similar production is getting. They can be cut or suffer a career ending injury at any time, lose guaranteed millions and most people won't blink an eye. There's a sense of urgency from NFL players to get paid NOW, and there has to be. I understand, but how many contract squabbles are too many?

To tie everything together, since I believe everything comes back around, I wonder: how will people judge a man in a Lance Briggs jersey? Not warmly, I presume. Especially if Briggs' contract talk, or lack thereof, seems to have an impact on the season. Briggs has not played a down of preseason football due to injury. Just as the man wearing the LeBron James 6 navigates his way through life constantly being shot sideways glances, I too am prepared for a potential Lance Briggs backlash. If wearing his jersey means I'll be looked at as a whining, insecure, money grabber who needs to be coddled and reaffirmed of his place in the world, then so be it. The jersey fits, after all.

Throw It Down, Big Man!

Here is a list of the Top 10 things I miss the most about the NBA:

1. Michael Jordan
2. The NBA on NBC theme song
3. Bill Walton (The Commentator)
4. High Top Fades
5. Broken Backboard Dunks
6. Lil' Penny Commercials
7. The Washington Bullets Logo
8. Detlef Schrempf
9. The Charlotte Hornets
10. The 2000-01 Sacramento Kings (RIP Sacramento, by the way)

In all seriousness, the Top 5 are very dear to me. Their loss has been a little easier to cope with because every few years, one of the Top 5 threatens to make a comeback. Jordan already came back once and is practicing with the Bobcats again. Bill Walton occasionally calls Celtics and Kings games. Brandon Jennings reintroduced the NBA to the high top fade for a short time last year. The NBA on NBC is never coming back, but the NBA on ESPN/ABC theme song is flying under the radar. It's no NBC, but pretty good nonetheless. The current group of youngsters will look back fondly on the ESPN/ABC theme like we do the NBC.
The age of broken backboards however, isn't coming back. I suppose that's a good thing. Raining glass can be pretty dangerous. The NBA also saves time and money -- two of the League's biggest assets at this point.
We all know that the rims and backboards are made sturdier nowadays, but how exactly do they work? Arthur Ehrat is credited with the invention of the breakaway rim as we know it today. Not a fan of basketball himself, Ehrat was contacted by his nephew, an assistant basketball coach at St. Louis University in 1975, about creating a rim that could withstand forceful slams. After a couple failed attempts, Ehrat struck gold -- in the form of a John Deere cultivator. He found that the spring was strong enough to not only withstand missed shots, but dunks as well.
Ehrat's new rim debuted in the 1978 Final Four. Dunking had been illegal since 1967 in the college game, but recently reinstated in 1976, due in large part to the popularity of Dr. J and the rest of the ABA's high-risers.
The NBA followed suit, introducing the breakaway rim in 1979 as a response to Darryl Dawkins, who shattered two backboards that year. While the new rim proved to be more successful than its predecessor, players were still bringing backboards down.
That changed in the early 1990s. NBA rims are now attached directly to the arm extending beyond the backboard. The arm, coupled with the springs on the breakaway rim absorb the force that the glass backboard used to. The video below contains a nice visual of this process, in addition to a disheartening experiment for those still hoping to see another broken NBA backboard in their lifetime. 



In 1992, Shaq became the last player to shatter a backboard in an NBA game. The once famous trend lasted for 46 years but will never be seen again, at least in the NBA anyway. In memoriam, I conclude with this:

An Unlikely Luc Longley Sighting

Last weekend I found myself in a retro bowling alley. Everything, and I mean everything, from the bowling balls, to the bar, to the employees, were aged at least sixty years. The left corner of the alley was doused with a touch of modernity in the form of fifteen year-old pinball machines. My favorite of which was NBA Fastbreak, a ditty from 1997, featuring Nick Van Exel, Clyde Drexler, Luc Longley, Jerry Stackhouse, Penny Hardaway, Jason Kidd, and Detlef Schrempf. One of these things is not like the others.
To recap: by 1997 standards, we have one future Hall of Famer (Drexler), two perennial All-Stars (Van Exel and Schrempf), two up and coming superstars (Kidd and Stackhouse), and Nike's latest prodigal son (Hardaway). Then there's the lonely Aussie, who looks to be playing help defense on Drexler, and primed to end up on a poster.
Before I get to Longley, I feel that Van Exel, Stackhouse, and Schrempf aren't nearly talked about enough for the right reasons. Van Exel doesn't receive enough credit for dispelling the myth that left-handers were incapable of playing the point guard position. Don't remember that myth? Just take my word for it, the 1990s were filled with some truly reprehensible people. As far as I'm concerned, without the trailblazing efforts of Van Exel and Derrick Coleman, players like Brandon Jennings and Josh Smith wouldn't exist.
In the mid-90s, Stackhouse was dubbed as the next MJ. Sure, he flew through the air like young Jordan, and attended North Carolina, but the similarities pretty much ended there. Stackhouse provided plenty of highlight reel dunks during his first two years in a 76ers uniform. All pale in comparison to the two-piece he hit Jeff Hornacek with during a game his rookie year.
I hated Jeff Hornacek as a kid. Him and Stockton made up the dirtiest backcourt I've seen to this day, except nobody acknowledged this at the time because they wore bowl cuts and didn't have tattoos. The Bulls played the Jazz in two straight Finals, so the nuances of that Utah team got on my nerves. Especially the way Hornacek used to rub his cheek before attempting every free show. The gesture was dedicated to his wife and kids, to show that he was still thinking of them. Spare me. For some reason, this makes me even angrier now than it did then.
Even if Stackhouse's punches appear unprovoked, I feel pretty comfortable with my belief that they certainly were not. My opinion of Hornacek hasn't changed in thirteen years, and no one can tell me different.
I spent a year and half of my prime childhood years trying to figure out what Detlef Schrempf was. Not who he was, but what he was. I was convinced he was a genetic cross between an iguana and Ivan Drago, created for the specific purpose of embarrassing American basketball players. Schrempf had one of the prettiest jumpers I've ever seen and shot a remarkable percentage for someone who took as many outside shots as he did.
Schrempf also has an entertaining blog: Det's Ramblings, that I suggest you read.

Now for the difficult part: what to say about Luc Longley. I watched almost every one of his games for four years of his career and am still at a loss for words. I think this Longley highlight reel, 95 percent of which is made up of dunks and layups does the trick:   



To truly appreciate Luc Longley, you have to look beyond what he did on the basketball court. As the video shows, what Longley did on the court was far from spectacular. He won three championships with the Bulls, was limited offensively, but was not expected to contribute much other than solid defense and smart passes within the triangle offense. Luc Longley is more interesting when stripped from the context of basketball. Here's some Longley anecdotes:
1) Longley was known as a gentle giant. According to Longley's back-up, Bill Wennington, "[Longley] was just a fun kid. He tried to do his best on the basketball floor, but he really just wanted to have fun. He never wanted to hurt anybody. He actually seemed to love everybody he knew on the team." You can imagine how well his attitude went over with Michael Jordan, who was a tad more unforgiving on the court.
2) During a November west coast trip with Chicago, Longley and teammate Jud Buechler went bodysurfing on their day off. Longley was picked up and dropped by a wave and ended up separating his shoulder. He had to wear a shoulder pad for the next few weeks and his teammates joked that he looked like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Why do we not have side-by-side pictures of a crippled Longley and the Hunchback of Notre Dame? I wish we had today's version of the Internet back then.
3) In 2009, Longley won a 2,900 dollar eBay bid to name a newly discovered shrimp off the southwest coast of Australia. He named the shrimp after his 15 year-old daughter.
4) While playing for the Suns, Longley was stung twice by a scorpion while sifting through the CD collection in his home.
5) He once backed down from a game of one-on-one against a drunk 60-year-old Lithuanian with a 4-inch vertical leap. Story.

When my confidence as a writer and human being wavers, I think of Luc Longley -- who despite averaging 7 points and 5 rebounds in his 12-year career, won three championships and one of the seven coveted spots on NBA Fastbreak. Anything is possible.