A Lesson Learned

Chris Harris had his best game of the season Sunday afternoon in the Bears' 38-34 victory over the Jets. He recorded 11 tackles, 10 of them solo, recovered a Santonio Holmes fumble in the 1st quarter, and then picked off Sanchez with less than a minute left to clinch the game for Chicago.

To most people, Harris is known as the Bears' hard-hitting safety. To a smaller number of us, he's @ChrisHarrisNFL, his Twitter account, where he interacts with fans and critics alike almost daily. In fact, Chris Harris is one of the most accessible modern athletes. Between Twitter and his blog, he's established a unique way of using social media to showcase his personality and enhance his brand.
Athletes on Twitter often give away tickets to games, usually holding some kind of contest to determine who wins them. On Christmas night, Harris did just that. He had four pairs of tickets for the Jets game and asked four questions about himself. The first person to correctly answer the question would be given a pair of tickets.
I normally don't get caught up in these sort of things because I start convincing myself I have a great chance of winning. This usually leads to disappointment -- that I could have avoided. But I decided to give this contest a try. It was Christmas night and I was Christmased out. The alternative to taking part in a contest to win Bears tickets was watching one of one of four Christmas movies I'd seen ten times a piece, or listen to one of 250 Christmas songs I'd been listening to for the entire month of December.

First question from Harris (all of which I'm paraphrasing, by the way): What was the name of my school mascot?

Google is my friend. Now there's two ways of going about this question. Look up where Chris went to school (Louisiana-Monroe), and either hope the mascot is in the title, or then do another Google search for the mascot. This approach takes too much time. It's a race against anyone else who may be answering, some of who probably didn't need to look it up.
I decided to go all in and typed in "Chris Harris School Mascot." To my surprise, an interview of his with WGN was the second result, and it contained the answer, "War Eagles." I was a little hesitant at first. What if I responded and was wrong? How stupid would that look?
I wrote back. I was right. I was too slow. Someone else won. Next question I would just have to pull the trigger. I decided to leave the tab of the interview up. I thought he might ask another question that could be answered from that page.

Second question: What number did I originally wear as a freshman in college before switching numbers before my sophomore year?

This was a tough one. I thought it might be on the tab I already had up but it wasn't. I immediately realized that this wasn't an answer I or anyone else could simply Google search. It was going to take a little bit of detective work and luck. I typed in "Chris Harris College Number" and clicked on an ESPN.com link. Each year listed him as number 5. I figured that was the number he had switched to after his sophomore year, seeing as the information was so widely available.
I don't remember how I got there, but eventually ended up on Louisiana-Monroe's program for the upcoming 2003 season, Harris' junior year. The article didn't mention Harris' number, but when I scrolled all the way down, there was a picture of a number 20 making a tackle, with the name Harris on the back of his jersey. The caption read: FS Chris Harris. That was my break. I was convinced I had the information others didn't. I was going to be the first to get this question that others were too stupid to figure out. They all probably thought the answer was 5.
I responded to Harris with my answer and patiently waited. I thought I had a great shot. My heart began beating a little faster. I started refreshing the page every ten seconds. About ten minutes later I found out I didn't win. That was my best chance, I thought, and I just wasn't quick enough.

Third question: What was my favorite football team growing up?

The answer was the Dallas Cowboys. It was on the WGN tab I had left open. The same tab everyone else responding was probably consulting as well. I was beat out again.

Fourth and final question: Who is my favorite NFL safety of all time?

Let me preface this question by saying, I had spent the last five minutes memorizing the answers to all of the WGN questions. Two of the three questions were from that list, so I decided to go with the odds and assume the fourth one would come from there. The WGN question was: Favorite player growing up? And the answer was Steve Atwater.
Atwater's name immediately popped into my head. "Write it down," a voice inside my head shouted. "You'll win." Another voice said, "You memorized his name, but you don't know what position Steve Atwater played, you idiot." And I didn't. I had to Google Steve Atwater, saw he played safety, and responded to Harris with the answer. I knew I'd be too slow, and I was. The couple seconds it took to Google Atwater's position were what cost me.

The saying "showing your age" is usually referring to old age. Not in this case. Atwater's name sounded familiar, but I was downright embarrassed when I saw that he retired in 1999, when I was 12 years old. No excuses for not knowing him.
To be fair, on a scale of one 1 to 10, my knowledge of football history is probably about a 3. Basketball is about a 7, and baseball around 5. I blame this disparity on two things:
1) The Bulls won their sixth championship in 1998. I was completely enamored with basketball at the time. I delved into every NBA book I could find and knew more about the NBA than most 12 year-olds.
2) 1998 was also the year that Mark McGwire and Cubs slugger Sammy Sosa rewrote the record books by belting 70 and 66 home runs, respectively. That sparked my love for baseball, and baseball statistics in general. I became pretty familiar with records and players from different eras around that time.
The Bears went 4-12 in 1998, finishing last in what was then the NFC Central. That was their second straight year finishing last in the division and they would finish last for two more years. I wasn't as interested in football as a kid because my team wasn't any good. If they were, I'd probably know the history a little better.
Anyway, I started reading up on Steve Atwater after losing out on the tickets. He played ten of his eleven seasons with the Denver Broncos and was selected to the Pro Bowl eight times. I was especially interested in the way Wade Phillips, who was Denver's defensive coordinator at the time, used Atwater. He played him close to the line of scrimmage, basically as a fourth linebacker.
As a result, Atwater was able to total more than one thousand tackles in his career, an astonishing number for a safety. Atwater is probably best known for a hit he put on Chiefs running back Christian "The Nigerian Powerhouse" Okoye, shown in the video below.




I've always been interested in the way different athletes rise to fame, and especially how certain athletes are inextricably linked through out time. For those who witnessed the hit, Atwater and Okoye will always share a place in NFL history together.
Okoye's story is pretty fascinating as well. Once one of the most dominant power runners in football before injuries and disinterest curbed his career, Okoye established a reputation as a gentle giant and Tecmo Super Bowl legend. Here's a pretty good video on Okoye during his prime, although a bit cringe-worthy during some parts compared to the Politically Correct standards of today.



I didn't win the tickets, but got a nice history lesson in exchange. That's a pretty good consolation prize in my book. Best believe I'll be ready for any Steve Atwater related questions in the near future.

Favre Always Did Have A Flair For The Dramatic

What is it about Brett Favre and Monday Night Football? For a player that has always seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, Favre certainly seems to crank it up a notch on Monday night.
We can all remember back to December of 2003. Favre was scheduled to play the Raiders on Monday night, only a day after the death of his father. Favre suited up and threw for 399 yards and four touchdowns en route to a 41-7 beatdown of Oakland.
That game became a defining moment of Favre's career. The mistakes that plagued him early in his career seemed to be swept under the rug. Instead, the media propped Favre up to the iconic status he already enjoyed amongst the people of Wisconsin.
A year later his wife Deanna was diagnosed with breast cancer. The Packers had started off the 2004 season slow, with a 1-4 record at the time of Deanna's diagnosis. In typical Brett fashion, he played through the grief. Throwing for over 4,000 yards and 30 touchdowns on the year, he led the Packers to a Wild Card berth.
Favre could do no wrong. He'd dealt with some of the worst news imaginable and still managed to play. And not just take the field, but play at a Pro Bowl level.
While Favre's yearly "Should I stay or should I go," retirement contemplations have rubbed most of us the wrong way for the last three years, he's successfully been able to repair his public image.
By no means do people think of him as a Saint, or even like him for that matter, but he's still been a far cry from the womanizing, pill-popping alcoholic of the early 90s. 
Or so we thought. At least for one third of that Axis of Evil, anyway.

You've all heard the story by now regarding the pictures and voicemails that Favre allegedly sent two years ago while playing for the Jets. While the timing is certainly suspect, and the Favre allegations are just that, allegations, this story still needs to see the light of day.
Cheating to me is a lot like holding on the offensive line. It happens often, it's just a matter of getting caught or not. That doesn't make it right, but that's the harsh reality.
So should Favre be punished for pursuing a sexual relationship? If the allegations are true, I'd have to say yes. The woman was employed by the Jets. Therefore, her and Favre were technically coworkers, and sexual harassment amongst coworkers, by law, shouldn't be tolerated at any workplace.
Whether or not anything happens to Favre, tonight's game will be another defining moment of his career. Imagine if Favre plays well and the allegations turn out to be false. There's Brett again, playing through adversity.
Now imagine if Favre plays poorly and the allegations turn out to be true. The little reputation he has left will be shot.
This story is a big deal. Think of all the other things we could be talking about. The return of Randy Moss, who will eventually team up with the injured Sidney Rice to form the most freakishly athletic pair of receivers this league has ever seen on the same team.
Santonio Holmes comes back from his four game suspension and finally gives the Jets the number one receiver they've been missing all year.
Moss and Revis square off again. Hopefully this time for the entire game.
Adrian Peterson tries his luck against Jets vaunted front seven.
Maybe this speaks to the sensationalism we favor in our news. Sex sells and all that. But we can also chalk up this sex scandal trumping every other storyline to the aura of Favre.
Tonight is another significant chapter for Brett Favre the player. Brett Favre the person? I don't think we'll ever know.