| Are you still not ready for some
XFL-rated football? Apparently, NFL commissioner Paul Tagliabue isn’t. At least
that’s the way Tags made it seem at the recent NFL owners’ powwow in cushy Palm
Beach, Fla., when he once again quickly dismissed wrestling maven Vince McMahon’s
brash new spring football league.
Despite the fact it had just locked up a 12-week "nothing to lose" TV
contract with NBC.
No, the league had much more serious concerns, like deciding to do away with
multiplayer endzone celebrations like the Rams’ "Bob and Weave."
Upon hearing about this ban, McMahon was quick to chide the league’s upper-echelon
stuffed shirts, promising to have fun stuff like the "Bob and Weave" in excess
in his eight-team start-up, with six of the franchises already slated for New York,
Washington, Miami, Orlando, Los Angeles and San Francisco.
McMahon’s new TV network buddy, NBC Sports chairman Dick Ebersol, was equally
quick to second McMahon’s motion.
"I can assure you (the telecasts) always will be on the edge of danger," said
Ebersol, of the games scheduled to begin airing on Saturday night, Feb. 3, 2001, in a time
slot that traditionally draws squat anyway. "We want to always keep the viewers
wondering.
"This is not your mother’s football league," Ebersol concluded.
But it could be your son’s, especially if he’s in the 12-14 age bracket.
A few opinion columns ago, I warned that the XFL could be a viable threat if it managed
to land a TV contract, mostly basing my belief on the scarily addictive nature of
McMahon’s wrestling product in the eyes of young people such as my very own
10-year-old son.
Obviously, the league has a long way to go before it becomes a legitimate threat to the
NFL, especially since it remains to be seen where the players will come from and how many
fans would be willing to actually attend games.
But I can tell you this: If Triple H, Rikishi Phatu, Kane, Road Dog and Goldberg took
turns being guest commentators or made their presence felt on the sidelines as glorified
mascots, you’d have an instantly captive audience, no matter what the caliber of
football being programmed.
Stay tuned.
Regarding other league-meeting matters, I hope the two-hour mid-week brainstorming
session to discuss the growing off-the-field problems of NFL players will end up amounting
to a lot more than just lip service.
One of the best ideas bandied about was the need for more mentors like former drug
abuser-turned-model citizen Cris Carter, the veteran Vikings wide receiver who has taken
character question mark Randy Moss under his wing and kept him on the straight and narrow.
Why not give every rookie who enters the league a designated "Big Brother" on
the same team — similar to the setup at most college fraternities? Why not set up a
designated daily period of time when the rookie and "Big Brother" focus on what
it takes to get by in the real world, working on refining real-life skills without any
"homies" hanging out in the background?
Of course, that might mean fewer trips to the Cobalt Lounges of the world, which could
really put a crimp on what has become the fashionable thing to do among your basic
everyday pro football studs.
It’s just a thought. |
