The Toy Department

Rex Ryan backlash well underway in Big Apple

2012-01-04T17:32:21Z

Well, here's a big upset: Rex Ryan is no longer the big media darling of New York.

In fact, the Jets' head coach -- and former lovable defensive coordinator of the Ravens, you'll remember -- is getting killed in the tabloids and on talk radio for his team's disappointing 8-8 season and three straight losses to the Eagles, Giants and Dolphins to close it out.

He's also getting bashed for his team's boorish behavior and the sense that the Jets were out-of-control in recent weeks.

Jets fans were already disgusted by Santonio Holmes' sulking in the final game against the Dolphins, during which Holmes was called out by teammates for quitting and eventually benched -- apparently without Ryan's knowledge -- by offensive coordinator Brian Schottenheimer.

(And Holmes was one of the team captains! Appointed by none other than -- ta-daa! -- Rex Ryan.)

This was followed by another devastating PR blow for Gang Green: linebacker Bart Scott, the former Ravens, gave the finger to photographers as the Jets cleaned out their lockers Monday.

OK, everyone knows New York's a tough town. Well, maybe everyone except Ryan, who had an extended honeymoon period with the media and fans after guiding the Jets to the AFC Championship game two years in a row.

But now comes the predictable backlash, made even harder on Ryan because of his swagger and his mouth and his larger-than-life personality.

Some sample headlines from the tabloids today:

"Rex becomes punch line as Jets turned into a joke."

"Oh, those classy Jets! LB makes obscene gesture at photographers."

"Jets issues go deeper than captains."

Ouch. Looks like a long, ugly off-season for Ryan and his team. And that's the price you pay when you talk a good game, rather than play it.

Catching up with ... Roy Hilton

2011-12-29T20:54:12Z

At 68, Roy Hilton still enjoys fooling people. "They come up to me and think I'm an old basketball player. I like that," said Hilton, who, at 6-foot-6, was one of the tallest Baltimore Colts of his day. He fooled people in other ways, back then. The Colts' 15th round draft pick in 1965, Hilton surprised everyone by making the team at defensive end and lasting 11 years in the NFL. And in Baltimore's 16-13 victory in Super Bowl V, he surprised Dallas by roaring past its All-Pro tackle, Ralph Neely, and sacking Cowboys' quarterback Craig Morton twice before halftime. Then, in the fourth quarter, with the Colts trailing 13-6, Hilton charged the Dallas passer again. Tossing Neely aside with a head slap (it was legal then), Hilton rushed a hurried Morton and forced an interception that led to the Colts' tying touchdown. "After the game, Mac (Colts coach Don McCafferty) came over to me, shook my hand and just said, 'Thanks,' " Hilton said. "That was the highlight of my entire career. "See, I was fired up for the Super Bowl because, beforehand, Dallas had switched Neely from one side of its offensive line to the other. They wanted to get him away from (Colts' All-Pro defensive end) Bubba Smith. I guess they thought I was easy pickings for Neely, and it ticked me off." Smith, who died in August, had been the first player selected overall in the 1967 draft, out of Michigan State. Hilton, who attended Jackson State, had been chosen No. 210. So it was no surprise which end got all of the ink. "Bubba was something," Hilton said. "If he got mad and decided he was going to get the quarterback, they simply could not stop him. He was that good. He was bigger (6-foot-7) and stronger than me, though both of our legs looked like toothpicks. I had a phobia about that. During games, I wore socks all the way up to my knees, to make my legs look bigger. Even now, when I go down the street for a walk, I do the same thing." Hilton, who lives in Randallstown, has paid for his rough play. The left knee has been replaced twice; the right one is next to go. He suffers from gout and arthritis and takes more than 10 medications a day. But you won't hear complaints from the man who played nine seasons in Baltimore during the Colts' golden era. "I've been blessed," said Hilton, married 46 years to his high school sweetheart. "We've got six grandchildren, all of whom keep me going." One, Brandon Copeland (Gilman), is a junior defensive end at Penn, where he has twice made the All-Ivy League first team. Another, Marquis Sullivan (Spalding), starred in basketball at Loyola. Having raised three daughters, Hilton now has six grandsons and dotes on every one. He attends every Penn home game and tutors Copeland in the nuances of the sport. He also goes to all Ravens' home contests with his neighbor, Lenny Moore, the Colts' Hall of Famer. Hilton retired in 2007 from his job as security officer at Johns Hopkins University, a post Hilton held for 20 years. He still exercises regularly "to keep the body parts functioning" and takes brisk walks daily. "When I go out in the rain, my wife, Marie, tells me what a goof I am," he said. "I may drop dead, working out, but I feel like I've got to do it." At 225 pounds, he's lighter than his playing weight (238). There's good reason for that, Hilton said: "When I left football, I had to start paying for my own meals."

Catching Up With ... former Colts RB Norm Bulaich

2011-12-15T20:41:00Z

He had a funny name, a Texas drawl and churning legs that chewed up yardage. Remember Norm Bulaich, the Baltimore Colts' star running back in their run to the January 1971 Super Bowl? He turns 65 on Christmas. Bulaich can't believe it, either. When he signed up for Medicare, he told the clerk: “I don't feel 65. Will you check it out?” She did. He was. The Colts' top draft choice 41 years ago, Bulaich caught on quick: He led Baltimore in rushing as a rookie. Bulaich (rhymes with goulash) sparkled in the playoffs, gaining 187 total yards in successive victories over the Cincinnati Bengals and Oakland Raiders. Then came Super Bowl V, where the Colts defeated the Dallas Cowboys, 16-13, on a field goal with five seconds left. “I carried the ball twice, to run down the clock, right before Jim O'Brien's kick,” Bulaich said. “In the huddle, I got some dirty looks from our linemen, who worried that I would mess up. “They said, ‘Don't fumble, Bulaich. Don't gain or lose any ground. Just move a little to the right.'” Bulaich hung on to the ball and gained 3 yards, setting up the winning 32-yard kick. Afterward, in the champions' locker room, the rookie thought, Hey, this wasn't that hard. We can do this every year. “Obviously, that wasn't the case,” he said. But Bulaich's best day was yet to come. In the Colts' 1971 season opener, against the New York Jets, he punished coach Weeb Ewbank's team for a club-record 198 yards in a 22-0 victory at Memorial Stadium. Moreover, he rushed 22 times with an ankle that he had sprained early in the game. The Jets were stunned. One of Bulaich's runs was for a 67-yard touchdown. “Nobody's ever run like that against this team, nobody,” New York quarterback Joe Namath said. “[Bulaich] didn't stop with second effort — hell, he went all the way to fourth, that's how hard he was running.” His effort broke the Colts' previous single-game mark of 194 yards, set by Alan Ameche in 1955. Late in the game, with Bulaich closing in on the record, coach Don McCafferty pulled him aside. “I'll give you two carries to break [Ameche's] mark, then I'm taking you out,” McCafferty said. Bulaich nodded and plowed ahead. His franchise record stood for 29 years, until 2000, when it was broken by Edgerrin James of the Indianapolis Colts. “For that, the club held a ceremony, where I got to meet James,” Bulaich said. “I told him, ‘Edgerrin, that record was all I had left, and you took it away from me.' “Do you know what he said? ‘I'm sorry, Mr. Bulaich.'” Three years is all he spent in Baltimore. Slowed by pulled hamstrings, he was traded to the Philadelphia Eagles and, two years later, to the Miami Dolphins, where “Big Boo” was reunited with coach Don Shula, who had drafted him out of Texas Christian for the Colts. Bulaich retired in 1979 after taking a forearm to the face that broke his jaw in three places. He left, having rushed and caught passes for more than 5,100 yards. Married 40 years, he lives in Hurst, Texas, and works as an executive for a waste management company. Bulaich has two children, four grandchildren, a 14 handicap in golf and good health. At 200 pounds, he's lighter than his playing weight (220). And he's free of the prostate cancer that rattled him five years ago. Though he didn't play here long, Bulaich has fond remembrances of his time with the Colts. “Are you kidding? Starting, as a rookie, in a lineup with [Johnny] Unitas, [John] Mackey, [Bill] Curry and [Tom] Matte? Oh, my gosh, I had to pinch myself,” he said. “I cherished the friendships with all of those guys. You couldn't have written a better script. “It was a privilege for me to play in Baltimore. I wasn't a great player, but I hope I contributed to the sport.” In his game room hangs a photograph of Unitas handing Big Boo the ball. “I tell folks, ‘I'm number 36 in that picture. I'm nobody,” he said. “But that other guy, number 19? He's somebody.” 1971 Baltimore Sun photo of Norm Bulaich

Waiting for T-Sizzle is a post-game sitcom

2011-12-12T16:40:08Z

There's no show on Earth quite like the one Terrell Suggs puts on before he meets the media after a Ravens game. But yesterday, after his great three-sack, three-forced-fumble performance in the Ravens' 24-10 demolition of the Indianapolis Colts, Suggs was at his zaniest.

The guy came bouncing out of the showers like he was ready to play another 60 minutes of football.

He shouted something to a teammate -- loudly and hysterically profanely -- about a hip-hop song. He shouted to another to make sure the guy gave him his cell phone number before he left. Then he wandered into the knot of media types interviewing Torrey Smith and pretended to be fascinated with the pearls of wisdom emanating from the rookie wide receiver.

Finally, he made his way to his locker, where a large group of reporters waited for him. And as soon as he got there, he grabbed the cell of another teammate and loudly announced: "I don't want to tell you my number. Lemme punch it in so these (very bad hyphenated word, often used to describe the media) don't call me."

And at this point, clad only in a towel, Suggs turned to the assembled media and announced he wouldn't be talking until he got dressed.

Since Suggs, like his idol Ray Lewis, tends to dress like something out of "Guys and Dolls," complete with sharp-looking pin-striped suits and fedoras, waiting for him to dress tends to take a while.

But with suit jacket on and tie perfectly knotted, Suggs was ready to hold court.

To his credit, Suggs deflected a lot of the praise thrown his way by reporters and credited the terrific all-around performance by the Ravens defense.

He talked about whether he was having a career year ("I don't know. It only counts if we get to Indy and the confetti drops.")

He talked about the energy level at M&T Bank Stadium during the game. ("You see when we're out there having fun and M&T is rocking, we're a very tough team to beat.")

And he talked about building momentum for the playoffs. Because perhaps more than anyone else in the Ravens locker room, Suggs focuses on the importance of the Ravens keeping their eyes on the Super Bowl prize and not being satisfied with late-season wins.

"We just have to keep it rolling because, as you've all seen through the years, championship teams, they don't settle for what's happening right now," Suggs said. "Every week, they try to get better, and they try to continue to go and find ways to get on a roll, like we're doing.

"We're doing a lot of things good. but we have to correct things and get better at the things we're not doing so well. We've still got work to do. ... We're still not satisfied. This team is hungry."

And a few minutes later, with a final trademark salute, Suggs was gone, slipping out a side door, presumably headed to a post-game celebration of some sort.

It's the best post-game locker room show in the NFL. And it never disappoints.

Getty photo of Terrell Suggs by Larry French / Dec. 11, 2011

Catching up with ... Corey Harris

2011-12-08T21:56:59Z

Four years ago, Corey Harris did the unthinkable. He sold his Super Bowl ring. Strapped financially, saddled with business debts, the former Ravens’ starting safety had no choice.

“I was struggling,” said Harris, who played on Baltimore’s 2000 NFL champions. “I was at a place in my life where I needed to sell it. I’d made mistakes. Call it immaturity, ignorance or being distracted by the wrong things. Some people have to hit bottom before they can focus again. That happened to me.”

Now Harris, 42, wants to keep other athletes from doing the same. In Nashville, his hometown, he has established a sports education training program for youths from third grade on up. He gives them football, plus a playbook on life skills.

“We’re going to partner with banks and businesses, to expose kids to money, credit and investments,” said Harris. “These are arenas where they need instruction, even if they’re not going to play pro ball. And I feel like I’m a teacher, at heart.”

It’s paramount, he said, for athletes to learn to choose their associates wisely.

“Problems like mine happen when you have people whom you trust, but who aren’t qualified (to help), or people who are qualified, but whom you don’t trust,” Harris said. “Those are bad fundamentals.”
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Harris juiced the crowd that day by returning kickoffs for 55, 49 and 47 yards.

“What I remember was that, on every return, I think, I was tackled by the (Colts’) kicker,” he said. “The guys liked to kid me about that.”

A standout on special teams, Harris started several games at safety during the Ravens’ march to the Super Bowl. In the 34-7 title win over the New York Giants, he threw two key blocks to spring Jermaine Lewis on the latter’s 84-yard kickoff return for a touchdown.

“The crazy thing was, I’d slept through most of the team meeting the night before the Super Bowl,” Harris said. “I woke up in the hotel in Tampa Bay and ran downstairs, with my heart beatin’ fast. (Defensive coordinator) Marvin Lewis just looked at me and asked, ‘You OK?’ There was no yelling. He showed true concern.

“Those were the kind of men that I’m proud to say I went to battle with.”

Few Ravens dressed sharper than Harris, whose flashy wardrobe wowed his teammates. One day, he’d wear platinum pants with a see-through sheer shirt; the next, it would be a red leopard print coat with mink-topped shoes.

“I never said I was the best-dressed guy on the team, only the most eclectically-dressed individual,” he said. “My clothing and my hair showed my entertainment side. I dyed my hair blond before the 2000 playoffs and kept it, until we won the Super Bowl.”

Then, the atmosphere in the Ravens’ locker room was perhaps the most relaxed in football, thanks to Harris’ efforts.

“I was ‘The Music Man,’” he said. “I’d get there four hours early, set up my portable Sony speakers and get my playlists together.”

Once, Harris ran late, prompting coach Brian Billick to walk past his locker with furrowed brow.

“He didn’t hear anything, and he thought something was wrong,” Harris said.

A full-time starter in 2001, he left Baltimore that winter when the Ravens let him slip into free agency. Harris played two more years with the Detroit Lions and retired to Nashville, home of Vanderbilt, his alma mater.

Life was good. He ran a sports bar, a jazz club and a youth performing arts center. He established an independent record label and wrote a self-published novel, “S.L.O.W. (Secret Lives of the Wives),” based loosely on his private life as an NFL player. Harris has been wed three times.

Then misfortune struck, a time he calls “the fire in my life.”

What went wrong?.

“I didn’t stick to the plan,” said Harris, who left it at that.

He now lives in Brentwood, Tenn. with his wife, Stacie, whose ex-husband, Chris Sanders, played for the Tennessee Titans. Harris’ stepson, C.J. Sanders, is a high school football star and onetime child actor who played the young Ray Charles in the 2004 film, “Ray.”

“I’m at a good place in my life,” said Harris.

And the Super Bowl ring? Would he ever seek to reacquire the keepsake ?

“I could get a replica made, if I wanted to,” he said. “But it’s not about the ring itself. It’s about the championship that we won, and the intangibles that it took to get there.”

mike.klingaman@baltsun.com

This just in: No. 52 is a (yawn) game-time decision

2011-12-06T17:03:30Z

Please, can we stop this dog-and-pony show with Ray Lewis?

News flash: the Ravens' All-Universe middle linebacker won't suit up against the Indy Colts Sunday. You know that (OK, most of you.) I know that. The American people know that.

But for weeks now, the Ravens have played this little head-game with the media over Lewis and his turf toe. We ask the same questions at the Castle every week: is the injury improving? What's his status? Will he play this week?

But from the Castle, you get more disinformation than the Kremlin sent out at the height of the Cold War.

Every week, John Harbaugh says the same thing. Ray's making progress. We don't know exactly how close he is to coming back. It'll be a game-time decision as to whether he plays.

Naturally, we media saps dutifully report this, even when Ray hasn't practiced in what seems like an eternity. And every week, we look like chumps. Every week, instead of seeing no. 52 in the lineup, we see him on the sidelines, waving a towel and cheering on his team.

Enough with this nonsense. He'll play when he plays. It won't be this week because the Ravens don't need him. They should beat the Colts by at least three touchdowns. The Indy team bus will be warming up at halftime for the trip back to BWI-Marshall.

OK, I get why the Ravens wouldn't want to let a quality opponent know Lewis' status. The Ravens want every edge they can get. If the 49ers or the Bengals have to spend time game-planning to face no. 52, that's just fine with Harbaugh and his coaching staff.

But is all this secrecy over Ray's status necessary when the Ravens are playing back-to-back crappy teams like the Cleveland Browns and the Colts?

I don't think so.

Let's all agree that Ray-Ray probably returns a week from Sunday for a key game against the Chargers in San Diego, when the Ravens might actually need him.

And let's not worry about the big guy 'til then.

Turgeon might want to rein in comments about Nick Faust

2011-12-05T17:52:34Z

Let me begin by saying I love Mark Turgeon's candor. It's way too early to know for sure if he's the right coach for Maryland's men's basketball team in the post-Gary Williams era (although I happen to think he is.) But no matter how well Turgeon does, you've got to love the fact that he tells it like it is.

Having said that, I offer this bit of advice: go easy when talking to the media about Nick Faust's confidence.

I've seen coaches do this sort of thing before. And sometimes it gets in the player's head and makes things even worse.

To recap, Turgeon made his comments about Faust after Maryland's 71-62 loss to Illinois in the ACC/Big Ten Challenge.

The highly touted freshman guard had just suffered through a tough 2-for-11 night shooting in front of the home crowd at Comcast Center.

"The poor kid, he's lost his confidence," Turgeon said. "He's air-balling shots. He's a young kid."

Turgeon didn't say it to be mean or overly critical of a kid who is expected to play an important role with the Terps the next few years.

And this isn't to suggest that Faust, the former City standout, is an emotional piece of bone china who shatters at the slightest criticism.

But Faust is a proud and sensitive kid who's still learning what big-time college basketball is all about. And as we all know, so much of shooting a basketball is all in a player's head. So as a coach, you might not want to be questioning a kid's confidence when the kid himself might not even see it as an issue.

In other words, Faust might simply have chalked up his poor shooting against the Illini as one of those nights. Same thing with his 1-for-5 from the floor and 3 points in the Terps 78-71 win over Notre Dame Sunday in the BB&T Classic in Washington.

No need to plant a seed in his head that he's lacking confidence this early in the season.

All evidence indicates the kid will be back. He's too good a player to stay in a shooting slump for long. He was a terrific scorer at City and he's only played in seven games on the collegiate level.

Give him time. He'll find his stroke again. No need to put any more pressure on him than what he's already feeling.

US Presswire photo of Nick Faust / Dec. 4, 2011

Edsall's first move should be hiring Penn State's Johnson

2011-12-03T06:11:45Z

Finally, Randy Edsall and Kevin Anderson seem to be in same time zone as Maryland fans -- real time. Edsall, backpedaling his way out of a 2-10 season faster than any of his cornerbacks did the past four months, admitted to a Washington Post columnist Thursday something he had not said since taking over for Ralph Friedgen last January: that he made some mistakes along the way. Anderson, trying to retain the smallest shred of a tattered fan base that had not yet abandoned the Terps since their opening-game win over Miami on Labor Day night, told my Baltimore Sun colleague Jeff Barker Friday that a "top to bottom" appraisal of the football program will be done, starting with a face-to-face meeting with Edsall Saturday night. With the expectation that changes will be made on the coaching staff, here's the first move Edsall should make: offer longtime Penn State assistant Larry Johnson the position as defensive coordinator. And here is the first move Anderson should make: give Johnson the title of associate head coach. It would help solve two issues: it would give the Terps the type of respected defensive presence on the sideline, or in the coaching box, that they lacked when Don Brown left last spring for Connecticut, Randy Shannon didn't come up from Miami (after being fired himself as the Hurricanes coach) and Todd Bradford, who had been hired as linebackers coach, was promoted to defensive coordinator. If anyone should be the scapegoat for this season's collapse -- culminating with the Terps giving up 35 points in the fourth quarter of their 56-41 season-ending loss last Saturday at N.C. State -- it is Bradford. More importantly, hiring Johnson would be a significant boost for recruiting, especially in Maryland. That should only be the start of the overhaul of Edsall's staff. Based on early projections, this could be Maryland's lowest-rated recruiting class in recent memory. The next move is something Edsall should have done when he was hired last winter. He needs to hire a recruiting coordinator to help lock down the state's top prospects, as well as many of those coming out of Washington. The next offer should go to former Dunbar (D.C.) coach Craig Jefferies, who was hired by Mike Locksley at New Mexco right before Edsall came to Maryland. Locksley was fired early in the 2011 season and Edsall would be wise to bring Jefferies back from Albuquerque as quickly as possible. And here's one more suggestion: I don't know what Gary Crowton's contract situation is, but I assume he received a multiyear deal when he left -- or was pushed out of -- LSU. Given Maryland's economic woes when it comes to the athletic program, paying off yet another coach would not be feasible. Bring Crowton back, but have him change the offense to suit Danny O'Brien, something that should have been done last spring before ignorance and arrogance got in the way. Unlike defensive end David Mackall and tailback D.J. Adams -- both of whom announced this week that they are leaving Maryland -- the sophomore quarterback seems willing to wait before making a decision about his future. Help make it for him. These moves are not going to turn the Terps into a 10-2 team, or even an 8-4 team. It might not even help the Terps get to 6-6. But they would certainly change the conversation coming out of College Park these days, and perhaps give fans a reason to start paying attention -- and help pay the bills -- if Maryland slowly begins to move back in the direction Edsall, but very few others, believes they are going. Don't worry about the fact that Johnson is coming from a program that has gone from being revered to reviled. Just as Anderson did last season after firing Friedgen, Anderson and Edsall have to move quickly. They are now living in real time, and the clock is ticking.

Catching up with ... Gary Collins

2011-12-02T01:05:51Z

By Mike Klingaman

At 71, but Gary Collins won’t slow down. Drive through Hershey, Pa. in summer and you'll find the Maryland football great mowing lawns and mulching trees to help with his son's landscaping business.

Passersby don’t know that the oldtimer pruning shrubs and planting roses was a consensus All-American receiver for the Terps, a first-round NFL draft pick and the star of the Cleveland Browns' 27-0 upset of the Baltimore Colts in the 1964 title game. Nor does Collins toot his horn.

“I don’t wake up in the morning and think, ‘Geez, I was a really good football player, and we shut out the Colts for the NFL championship, and I ought to be in the Hall of Fame,’” Collins said. “All of that ego stuff is gone. Why mow lawns and whack weeds 10 hours a day, five days a week? I’m helping my son. Plus, it keeps me in shape.”

Has it been 50 years since Collins, then a two-way end and punter, carried Maryland on his back? Week after week, he found ways to win games for the underdog Terps, who went 18-12 during his three varsity years (1959-61).

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The Terps’ Tom Nugent called Collins “the finest player I’ve ever coached. He produces in the clutch and has never failed me whenever I asked him to do something special.”

Against North Carolina State, Collins (1) picked off a Roman Gabriel pass, (2) landed a punt six inches from the goal line, and (3) blocked an enemy punt, in the end zone, that a Maryland teammate fell on for a score. And in a 22-21 upset of Syracuse, Collins made a spectacular catch of a two-point conversion to win it. Earlier, on defense, he’d twice stopped All-American Ernie Davis on consecutive plunges at the Terps’ one-yard line.

Though violently ill against Penn State, Collins responded by leading Maryland to a 21-17 win in 1961, the Terps’ only triumph in their 37-game series. Double-teamed all day, he had six receptions, including one on which he dragged defenders for three yards to the end zone. On defense, he saved a Penn State score by running down a ball carrier from behind. Collins also punted six times, against the top-rated team in the East, for a lusty 46.5-yard average.

“I was sicker than a dog in that game,” Collins recalled. “I’d go onto the field, do something, and then come out and barf. Afterward, a Penn State player told me, ‘You’re a good player, but do us a favor and quit all of that acting on the sideline.’ “

It wasn’t his choice to play both ways, Collins said, but platooning was not yet in vogue.

“I didn’t like playing defense, but in the old days, you played 59-1/2 minutes,” he said. “Compared to now, the game was inhumane. Players speared you when you were down, and hacked at your head even after you were out of bounds.

“Conditions were prehistoric — and unsanitary. Clemson had no bathroom facilities at halftime; you stayed by the field and went in your pants. And when you wanted water, everyone drank from a ladle that had snot and boogers hanging off of it.

“Nowadays, every time guys come out of the game, someone squirts Gatorade into their mouths. Players don’t even have to squeeze the bottle.”

A native of Williamstown, Pa., Collins wore No. 82 in college, a nod to his role model, the Colts’ Raymond Berry.

“I copied his style of running pass patterns,” he said. “I was a bigger, slightly faster version of Raymond. Both of us could separate (from defenders), and both of us could catch.

“When I got to Cleveland, Berry found me after an exhibition game and told me how I’d improved on the style that he’d started. I felt pretty damn good about that.”

The fourth player selected in the 1962 NFL draft, Collins thrived in Cleveland, despite deferring to Hall of Fame runners Jim Brown and Leroy Kelly. He played in two Pro Bowls, led the league in punting in 1965 and still holds the Browns’ record for career touchdown receptions (70). He caught 331 passes and knows exactly how many he dropped.

“Seven,” he said. “And three of them were in a sleet storm.”

Baltimore fans remember Collins for having whomped the favored Colts in the 1964 championship. Three times in the second half, he caught TD passes from Frank Ryan to turn a scoreless tie into a rout.

His last reception (51 yards) was a dilly: The 6-4 Collins caught the ball at the 15, with the Colts’ Bobby Boyd draped on his back, then shed the 5-10 defender and scored.

“The Colts were the better team, but not that day,” Collins said. “They’d probably have beaten us 8 of 10 times. We played a near flawless game.”

He drove off in a bright red Corvette, given to the game’s Most Valuable Player.

Collins retired in 1971. Since then, he has coached briefly at Lebanon Valley College (Pa.) and in the World Football League, run a sporting goods store near Hershey, done some broadcasting and sold life insurance. Married 31 years, he has two sons and six grandchildren, one of whom wears his old Maryland jersey at times.

Three months ago, Collins phoned Art Modell, former owner of the Browns and Baltimore Ravens. The two men hadn’t spoken in years and, answering the call, Modell broke down.

“Art started crying,” said Collins. “He said, ‘You were my first draft pick when I became Browns’ president (in 1961).’ Then he invited me to a Ravens’ practice.

“I said, ‘Art, I don’t know if that would look good in Cleveland.’

“But maybe I’ll go, anyway.”

mike.klingaman@baltsun.com

Palmeiro resigned to another Hall of Fame snub

2011-12-01T17:50:18Z

The 2012 baseball Hall of Fame ballot was sent to voters this week, and one former great who won't be agonizing over the balloting is Rafael Palmeiro.

Under ordinary circumstances, Palmeiro, 47, would be a shoo-in for the Hall. But he knows he has no shot of getting in this year -- and maybe not for years to come.

Over a brilliant 20-year career -- including seven seasons with the Orioles -- Palmeiro amassed 569 homers, 3,020 hits and 1,835 RBIs and won three Gold Gloves as a slick-fielding first baseman.

But late in the 2005 season, just days after he got his 3,000th hit and six months after he'd famously wagged his finger in front of a Congressional sub-committee and denied using steroids, news broke that he'd tested positive for stanozolol.

Palmeiro insisted the positive test was a result of a tainted B-12 shot given to him by teammate Miguel Tejada. But no one really believed him. And after a 10-game suspension, Palmeiro retired from the game in disgrace and went back to Texas, bitter and depressed about the damage done to his reputation.

I caught up with him a couple of months ago, when he was in town to do a big sports memorabilia show at the Hilton Hotel in Pikesville.

Palmeiro spoke openly about testing positive for a banned substance and the emotional pain it caused him. And he still maintains it was a tainted B-12 shot that caused his downfall.

But he won't be surprised if Hall voters still don't believe him and fail to put him on their ballots this year. And he said he wasn't surprised he was snubbed last year, when he received just 11 percent of the vote, far shy of the 75 percent needed for induction.

"Honestly, I didn't expect [to get in] because of what had happened to Mark McGwire the year before," Palmeiro told me in October, referring to a similar snub by Hall voters of the former A's and Cardinals slugger. "So I was thinking: 'It's not going to happen.' I thought I'd get more votes. I thought 11 percent was low. But it is what it is.

"I didn't worry too much about it. It was painful, but I never played baseball to be a Hall of Famer."

Still, whether self-inflicted or not, it's a sad footnote to a terrific major league career.

When the Hall balloting is concluded, Palmeiro won't be sitting by the phone, anxiously awaiting one of the happiest calls of his life.

He probably won't be in Cooperstown anytime soon. And he lives with that depressing reality every day of his life.

AP photo 2005

For Maryland to be successful, Edsall needs to reinvent himself

2011-11-24T18:58:10Z

Listening to Randy Edsall dissect his team’s latest defeat last Saturday night, watching his body language as he sat at a table inside a room at BB&T Stadium after Maryland’s 31-10 loss to Wake Forest, I couldn’t help but think of the line about the old, crusty ballplayer who warmed up to his teammates and the media right before he retired. “He learned to say hello when it was time to say goodbye,” someone wrote. Edsall is not going anywhere after the Terps finish their dismal season Saturday at North Carolina State, likely with another loss and a 2-10 record that would equal the most defeats in a season in school history. But like the old ballplayer, I wonder if it’s too late for Edsall to repair the damage from the past few months. With the expected departure of several of the most talented players from this year’s team – including defensive end David Mackall, tailback D.J. Adams and possibly quarterback Danny O’Brien – and the prospect of a mediocre (if that) recruiting class, the Terps are going to be ACC bottom-feeders again next season and probably for a while. Edsall has talked about how what he did at Connecticut will help him in College Park. Edsall continued the building process in Storrs begun by Skip Holtz; at Maryland he now has to rebuild a program that he tore apart in less than one season. He has always sounded as if he was rebuilding a mess left by his predecessor. But Ralph Friedgen revived the Terps from a dismal 2-10 season in 2009 to a 9-4 season last year that culminated with the Fridge being named ACC Coach of the Year and Maryland being ranked No. 23 in the final poll. Now Edsall is faced with rebuilding a team that has few impact players left on its roster and a fan base that has eroded rapidly. So what can Edsall do to change his image that has now been cast as a rigid, self-righteous control freak who only begrudgingly took responsibility for the way things imploded this season? What can Edsall do to have any chance for future success? Start by apologizing to Friedgen’s supporters, if not to The Fridge himself, for saying that the players he inherited had no accountability before he arrived. And apologize for criticizing the rest of the fans who didn’t show up in an October snow-shower to see Maryland play Boston College. Start taking accountability yourself for your player’s actions, and your team’s performance. Admitting your errors go a long way to being given a second chance. Being humble doesn’t hurt either. Edsall should look to see how his counterpart in the basketball program – first-year coach Mark Turgeon – is being treated because of the way he has treated others, including Gary Williams. Turgeon is tough on his players, but it’s the kind of discipline that doesn’t come off as heavy-handed and driven by ego. More importantly, Edsall should also bring in a group of the team’s veterans, perhaps even a few of the players with whom he had problems, and ask them for input on how to change the us-against-him mentality that has pervaded the Gossett Team House, or Gossett Team Penitentiary, as some players refer to it on Twitter. In your my-way-or-the-highway world, the highway appears to be approaching gridlock. Maybe even change some of the rules, understanding that, as the father of two college-age kids, these are still college kids you’re coaching. Start with putting their names back on the back of their uniforms. Fans are also not happy with the fact that the Terps have become an endangered species on the new uniforms, and the players aren’t buying into it either. Not to say that Edsall isn’t trying. It is obvious that someone has reached Edsall about his relationship with the media. After the Wake Forest game, and during his regular Tuesday session before the N.C. State game, he was honest, engaging, even emotional rather than secretive, standoffish and robotic. He also seemed worthy of a little sympathy. I know of many coaches over the past 30 years who were cut some slack by the people who covered them because they were accessible, and didn’t just give the kind of coachspeak answers that became the norm this season. It would have been nice to hear from the two coordinators, Gary Crowton and Todd Bradford, to get their take on what went wrong, rather for them to be off-limits since August. Many people who I’ve talked to this season who have known Edsall in the past say that he’s a nice guy and a good coach. You wouldn’t know it by how he operated during his first season in College Park, but it’s not too late to try and turn this around. It’s going to be challenging, because not many will be showing up for games until the team starts winning again and not made blue-chip players are going to be buying into your approach either. Unless you’re walking away from a contract that will pay you $2 million a year over the next five years, you’re stuck with the players, fans and media that you alienated. Doing it your way – or at least the way you did it this season – won’t work. Even your mentor, Tom Coughlin, changed when it looked like he was going to get fired by the New York Giants. All his team did was win the Super Bowl. One more thing: think about some of the comments you make before you make them. You said last week that reading comments by New England Patriots owner Robert Kraft reinforced what you are trying to do in College Park. His franchise has won three Super Bowls. Your team will probably not even win three games.

Catching up with ... Lenny Moore

2011-11-23T23:48:09Z

By Mike Klingaman
The Baltimore Sun

The photograph hangs in Lenny Moore’s club basement, amid the hundreds of trophies, plaques and keepsakes that chronicle the life of the Baltimore Colts Hall of Fame running back. But few treasures mean as much to Moore as the black-and-white snapshot of him and his mentor, former Penn State football coach Joe Paterno, with their arms draped around one another.

Were the two to meet today, Moore said, they would again embrace. Never mind Paterno’s recent dismissal in the wake of child sex abuse charges brought against onetime Penn State assistant Jerry Sandusky.

Paterno’s firing was a bum rap, said Moore, who remains fiercely loyal to the man who, as an assistant coach in the mid-1950s, helped shepherd him through a rocky college career. When Moore flunked out of Penn State as a junior, Paterno was among those who helped him see the light.

“What do I think of Joe? Same as before,” Moore said this week. “Penn State made a mistake in axing him.This is eating me to pieces, because I know what Joe is about. He’s a helluva guy who tries to open doors for his players, just like he did for me.”

In the Sandusky case, Moore said, Paterno “did what he was supposed to do — he reported it to the folks above him and then went back to his coaching. It’s not his job to call the cops. And now they’re talking about removing his statue from outside the stadium? C’mon!

“I’m going to call and tell Joe, ‘You’re my man, just like I was your guy when I was there. If there’s anything I can do, well, it’s done, believe me.’ “

It has been a hectic week for Moore, of Randallstown. He has delivered Thanksgiving goodies to dozens of needy families, knocking on doors in East Baltimore and handing turkeys to folks who have no idea that their greying benefactor was the NFL’s Most Valuable Player in 1964.

“That’s not important,” he said. “What matters is bringing families together.”

Moore’s mercurial, high-stepping moves, often elegant and always electric, led the Colts to successive world championships in 1958 and 1959. Five times All-NFL, he once scored touchdowns in 18 straight games, a record that stood for 40 years.

And now?

“I’m just trying to keep this body and mind together,” said Moore, who turns 78 on Friday. Married 35 years, he has four children and eight grandchildren. He remains free of the prostate cancer he fought in 2001, the same year that Moore’s son, Les, 43, died of scleroderma, a rare autoimmune disease.

Moore retired last year from his job with the Maryland Department of Juvenile Services where, for 26 years, he traveled to middle and high schools, mixing and mingling with at-risk children and trying to set them straight.

“It was something I would have done anyway,” he said, “so I figured that I might as well do it and get paid.”

A Ravens fan, he often attends home games and will watch their game with San Francisco Thursday night with heightened interest. It was in a furious 35-27 comeback victory against the 49ers that the Baltimore Colts clinched the Western Division championship in 1958. Moore and his teammates have long claimed that contest was superior to the Colts’ 23-17 sudden-death overtime win against the New York Giants for the title.

“We trailed, 27-7 at halftime,” Moore said. “We were so twisted, we didn’t know what to do. The 49ers had three Hall of Famers in the backfield (quarterback Y.A. Tittle, fullback Joe Perry and halfback Hugh McElhenny). How do you stop those guys?

“But (coach) Weeb Ewbank said, ‘Fellas, we’re not out of this. Defense? Shut them down. Offense? Go to work.’

“When we went back out there, everyone was tuned in, and Johnny (Unitas) went to war.”

Moore did his part, racing 73 yards for a TD in the fourth quarter, a dizzying sprint in which he changed direction three times.

More than half a century later, there’s growing interest among Baltimoreans to honor Moore with a bronze statue. A group of business leaders will meet Friday to discuss it.

Does Moore deserve a sculpture? He hems and haws and stares at the floor.

“If they think I’m worthy of it,” he said.

mike.klingaman@baltsun.com

Torrey Smith keeps getting better and better

2011-11-21T15:56:31Z

Here's something that has to hearten the Ravens after they watched Torrey Smith light up the Cincinnati Bengals in Baltimore's 31-24 win Sunday: the kid has only just begun to scratch the surface of his enormous potential.

His day against the Bengals was huge: six catches for 165 yards and a touchdown, a career high in catches and receiving yards. And his 590 receiving yards in 10 games is a new Ravens rookie record.

Will he lose his trademark dreadlocks after Bengals corner Adam Jones tackled him from behind by his hair and nearly pulled his head off?

Smith says no, although I have a feeling Ravens coach John Harbaugh may try to talk him into visiting a barber soon.

But dreads or no dreads, it's been a joy to watch Smith improve by leaps and bounds this season.

"Looking at film from when I first came into camp to now, it's a big difference," he said after the game yesterday. "(Wide receivers coach Jim Hostler) and Anquan (Boldin), they would talk a lot to me about technique and just preaching that I can run ... I am able to get open fast and separate, and that's pretty much credit to Coach Hostler."

He's nowhere near a finished product, however.

The Ravens will tell you his route-running needs to be crisper. And they'd like him to focus more on catching with his hands than using his body to trap the ball against his chest.

But those are technique issues that can be practiced and refined over time.

What you can't teach a rookie wide receiver is speed. And not only does Smith's blazing speed give the Ravens a legitimate home-run threat down the field, it opens up the middle as opposing corners and safeties play deeper to keep Smith from flying by.

Which he's done. Quite a few times.

"My receivers coach ... is always like 'You don't understand how rare it is to get behind someone.' So when it happens, you have to take advantage of it."

The Ravens plan on doing just that the rest of the way. For a team bent on going to the Super Bowl, Smith is improving by leaps and bounds at exactly the right time.

McClatchy-Tribune photo of Torrey Smith by Doug Kapustin / Nov. 20, 2011

Catching up with ... Priest Holmes

2011-11-18T03:42:34Z

In midweek, the Ravens’ coach beckoned the third-string running back into his office and delivered the news: He would make his first NFL start that Sunday, against the Cincinnati Bengals.

Priest Holmes nodded, excused himself and hurried to the men’s room.

“I had to say a prayer,” Holmes said, recalling that day in 1998. “I thanked God for the opportunity. I knew I had a work ethic to compete with anyone in the league.”

That’s how one of football’s famed runners got his foot in the door – and the end zone. His debut, on national TV, was a dandy: Holmes, an undrafted free agent from Texas, rushed for 173 yards and two touchdowns in a 31-24 victory over the Bengals.

“I didn’t expect him to do so much,” Ravens’ coach Ted Marchibroda confessed afterward, adding, “I think we’ve found our halfback.”

Seven games later, Holmes exploded for a club-record 227 yards and a TD in a 20-13 win against Cincinnati. Again. It was the telling start of a stellar career for Holmes, who spent four uneven years in Baltimore before finding his niche in Kansas City.
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All of that would be a pipe dream, had he chosen to stay put.

“I have no regrets (about leaving town),” said Holmes, 38, now retired and living in San Antonio. “But the Ravens helped launch my career, and I do wonder, sometimes, what if I had stayed in Baltimore, after we won the Super Bowl? What kind of success would have come of that?”

He’d known his future was iffy in 1999, when Brian Billick became coach.

Said Holmes, “Billick called me into his office and said, ‘Priest, you’re just not the guy I imagine coming down the tunnel. In this league, we have big, intimidating backs, like Corey Dillon and Jerome Bettis.’ “

Holmes is 5-feet-9 and 205 pounds.

“I said, ‘Coach, I can’t get any bigger. But I’m willing to do what it takes to help the team win.’ “

“I can work with that,” the coach said.

Inside, however, Holmes said he was “devastated” by Billick’s assessment, as he’d gained more than 1,000 yards the year before.

“Some players couldn’t carry that burden, but I decided to take a different route,” he said. “When Jamal arrived — and he was an excellent pick — I thought, how can I help this young man get us to where we want to be? So, every Thursday night, all of the running backs would go to Jamal’s house, eat barbecue, watch game tapes and talk.

“It made Jamal a better player and me, a more complete one.”

A neck injury sidelined Holmes for good in 2008. He still experiences “some tingling and numbness” in his extremities, but it hasn’t stopped him from working three jobs. Holmes runs a business consulting firm, a chain of barber shops and the Priest Holmes Foundation, an organization he started in 2005 which provides college scholarships for students in San Antonio, and incentive programs for at-risk kids in both his hometown and Kansas City.

“To combat truancy, we offer students limousine rides with me, or lunch with me and the school principal,” he said. “We also provide free haircuts, and tips on becoming a barber.”

Holmes enjoys speaking to disadvantaged youths and sharing tales of having overcome his own failures.

“I tell them how, at 9, I wanted to be a singer, like on American Idol,” he said. “There I was, at church choir rehearsal for the Easter play, when the director stopped the music and said, ‘Somebody’s messing up.’

“He asked each of us to sing our parts and when I did, he shook his head.

“ ‘Priest,’ he said, ‘on Sunday, I just want you to rock, left to right, and move your lips — but let nothing come out.’

“I tell kids that story so that when they think they can’t do something, they’ll move on to something else, like I did — to football.”

It was as a rookie in Baltimore, Holmes said, that he swore to make something of himself in retirement.

“[Former Ravens running back] Earnest Byner told me that there are two types of people in the NFL — football players and professional players,” Holmes said. “Football players will live it up and enjoy their experience to the max, while pro players will utilize that time as a platform to strategically launch them into what they will do for the rest of their lives.

“I really took hold of that message.”

Holmes said he also vowed not to be among the majority of NFL retirees whose lives are said to hit the skids when they quit the game.

“We’re told that, within three years, 78 percent of former players will either be divorced, bankrupt or unable to keep their house,” he said. “Well, I just celebrated my third year in retirement, and I’m determined to stay in the ‘other’ 22 percent.”

Though he rarely returns to Baltimore, the Ravens will be in Holmes’ thoughts Sunday when they play Cincinnati. Thirteen years ago, in the contest prior to his 227-yard rampage against the Bengals, the Ravens abandoned the ground game in a 14-13 loss to the San Diego Chargers. Holmes managed six carries that day, while quarterback Jim Harbaugh passed 33 times.

After that defeat, offensive tackle Jonathan Ogden approached Marchibroda and told the coach that the Ravens needed to run the ball more. The team heeded Ogden’s words. In beating Cincinnati, Holmes rushed 36 times; Harbaugh threw half that many passes. Game won.

“I took the whole offensive line out to dinner, after that,” Holmes said.

mike.klingaman@baltsun.com

Penn State coaches have strong Maryland ties

2011-11-11T15:09:02Z

With defensive coordinator Tom Bradley taking over for Joe Paterno as head coach at Penn State for the final three games, Ron Vanderlinden and Larry Johnson will serve as co-defensive coordinators for the Nittany Lions.

Vanderlinden, linebackers coach at PSU, was head coach at Maryland from 1997-2000, going 15-29 before being fired. Ralph Friedgen replaced him. He joined Penn State's staff after his dismissal at Maryland.

Before being named head coach for the Terps, Vanderlinden was defensive coordinator at Northwestern. He also coached at Colorado, Ball State and Michigan. At Penn State he oversaw the development of NFL linebackers Navorro Bowman (49ers), Sean Lee (Cowboys), Dan Connor (Panthers) and Paul Posluszny (Jaguars). While defensive coordinator at Northwestern Vanderlinden coached current Wildcats head coach Pat Fitzgerald.

Johnson, Penn State defensive line coach, was a high school coach at McDonough in Pomfret, Md., winning three state titles. He is often credited with helping Penn State attract some of Maryland's top high school players to State College, Pa. Johnson reportedly declined a chance to interview to be defensive coordinator at Maryland for Randy Edsall earlier this year.

Vanderlinen photo by The Baltimore Sun, 2000