9401010158
DETROIT FREE PRESS
940103
Monday, January 03, 1994
METRO FINAL
1D
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1994, Detroit Free Press
LOSING THEIR STAR HELPED THE LIONS FIND THEIR WAY
Willie Green grabbed the water bucket and snuck up behind Wayne Fontes.
Photographers raced over. Fontes must have known. He stood there anyhow,
looking innocently away as the clock ticked down. Whoosh! Green doused his
boss. Fontes yelped.
Wouldn't you know it?
Even when he wins, they dump on him.
"I can't tell you how great I feel," a raspy-voiced Fontes said after the
Lions captured the Central Division, beating Green Bay, 30-20, in the last
game of the regular season. "It shows what you can do when players believe."
He said this with a wet head -- but with no malice, no I- told-you-so
gloating, and that's good, because this is not about I told you so. This is
not about some feud between the Lions and the media or the Lions and their
fans.
No. This is about hanging in, hanging tough, doing your job.
And this is about filling empty spaces. The first is a small space of
rafters above the 300 level seats at the Silverdome, where, regardless of what
happens now, a banner will hang next year: "1993 Central Division Champions."
The second is an empty space in the Lions' locker room, where Sunday the
players celebrated -- not like children, but like men, subdued, happy, and
mature.
The empty space is a locker.
The one marked: "No. 20, Sanders."
Other players shine through
Don't forget that in 1991, the last time the Lions made the playoffs, Barry
Sanders had a sensational year. He gained 1,548 yards, was named NFC player
of the year, was first choice for the Pro Bowl, played in all the Lions games
except the season opener, and had over 100 yards rushing in three of the last
five, a winning streak which zoomed Detroit into the post- season.
Sanders was the offense, and, in many people's minds, he was the team. His
injury this season on Thanksgiving was supposed to be the crippling blow to
this franchise. You need only look at Dallas when Emmitt Smith missed two
games or Miami minus Dan Marino or Philadelphia without Randall Cunningham to
see how losing a star can be the end.
For Detroit, it was just the beginning.
Since Sanders' injury, the Lions have changed their offense, boosted their
imagination, and risen to the occasion. Players like Eric Lynch and Ty Hallock
have come out of nowhere, but players like Erik Kramer, Herman Moore, Brett
Perriman, Robert Porcher, Kelvin Pritchett -- good players who have been here
all along but were sometimes overlooked in the glare of Sanders' spotlight --
well, those players are making a difference.
The Detroit Lions, 1993, are a team.
Which is why they're still playing in 1994.
"If today showed anything, it showed our ability to keep things together,"
said Chris Spielman, who, with the eyeblack on his cheeks and the blood stains
on his uniform, seemed to relish victory more than any player in the room.
"Think of what's happened to us -- the injuries, the quarterback changes, the
(assistant) coaching change, all the media stuff. Those things can really
throw a team off."
Instead, you had Sunday, where the big plays all seemed to be joint
efforts: Porcher batted a Green Bay pass into the air; Tracy Scroggins
intercepted it. Anontio London came charging like a madman on punt coverage
and jarred the ball loose; Ray Crockett picked it up. The offensive line blew
open a hole; Lynch burst through for a five-yard touchdown.
Detroit had four interceptions, each by a different player, and three TDs
by guys who weren't on the team last year.
Barry Sanders -- and Bennie Blades, another 1991 Pro Bowl star -- were in
street clothes.
"You know, I think Barry is probably the happiest guy on the roster,"
Kramer said, glancing at the empty locker. "When he comes back, he's joining
a team that won't put all the weight on his shoulders."
Victory a stranger no more
You looked around that room Sunday, guys like Spielman, Lomas Brown, Kevin
Glover, Jim Arnold -- guys who suffered a long time with a team that was
always expected to lose and who went crazy in 1991 when it finally won. They
were different Sunday. Happy? Sure. But calmer. Winning is not a shock
anymore.
"I feel we can beat anybody out there in one game," Spielman said. "This
Central Division title is great. I'll enjoy it tonight, but come tomorrow, it
don't mean squat."
Earlier, Fontes had spoken about his early days in Detroit, how his first
goal was "to get everyone to spit out the taste of losing," to stop expecting
defeat.
Sunday, as the game and the division title went back and forth, with TDs
and interceptions, Fontes said, "I never had that old feeling that we would
somehow give it away."
This is a huge step. For years, this team has had an embarrassing losing
tradition. Now it has two division titles in three years, and the roster is
young. Maybe next year they compete and they win it again. You see what
happens? People see Detroit as a team that's supposed to win.
The effects of that are endless. It's the difference between free agents
wanting to come here, and lines at the season ticket windows, and nationally
televised games and, well, you get the picture.
The Detroit Lions are not the best team in football -- and they stumbled
some this season, half as often as they shone. But they are a team now, one
that, on Sunday, filled some important empty spaces with a win, a title, and
the splash of a victory bucket. That kind of dumping, they'll take gladly.
COLUMN; DLIONS; FOOTBALL; NFC CENTRAL DIVISION; WIN;Lions