9102150753
DETROIT FREE PRESS
911209
Monday, December 09, 1991
METRO EDITION
1C
Photo JULIAN H. GONZALEZ;DUANE BURLESON
:
Barry Sanders has too much speed for free safety Lonnie Young
en route to a 51-yard touchdown run.
A sprained knee fells nose tackle Jerry Ball in the first
quarter. He was hit on the right knee by fullback Brad Baxter.
Ball called it a cheap shot.
MITCH ALBOM
SEE ALSO METRO FINAL EDITION, Page 1C
Copyright (c) 1991, Detroit Free Press
BALL WANTS REVENGE FOR KNEE;
LIONS' VICTORY GETS IT FOR HIM
Jerry Ball wanted somebody dead. He knew what had happened, he'd seen it a
million times, only this time it had happened to him, this nasty football
trick, one guy holds you up, the other chops you low, and now it was his knee
that was throbbing and his turn to sit on the motorized cart that would drive
him off the field and into his street clothes and damn it, he wanted no part
of this. Better a crane should lift him through the roof than to ride off like
some wounded soldier in front of the enemy with its cheap trick garbage.
Helpless, he turned like a caged beast, maddened with this sudden inability
to run or to even kick somebody and he banged a fist down on the back of the
cart and I swear you could hear it reverberate in the upper deck.
That was a call to arms, a declaration of war, and for the next three
hours Sunday, that's what it was out at the Silverdome, bloody mayhem. You
might have sworn the building was on fire, so much noise, so many stretchers,
so many injured and hobbling. There were cramped muscles and twisted knees
and the kind of vicious hits that, were this a musical, would be underscored
by cymbal crashes. Sacks. Fumbles. Players disconnected from the ball and
then their senses. In the end, when the bombs stopped falling, the Lions would
learn the meaning of character. But it cost them dearly. They would lose one
of their top two defensive players, most likely for the rest of the season.
And now Jerry Ball wanted revenge. Retribution. Satisfaction. Somebody
dead. Something. The game was just about over now, and he had done something I
had never seen before, he had planted himself on a folding chair in the
tunnel where the players exit. He was in a gray sport coat and black shirt,
his new crutches by his side, even as photographers and reporters raced back
and forth. He glared down the tunnel as the players began to trickle in.
"You waiting for (Brad) Baxter?" someone asked, referring to the running
back who had chopped Ball at the knees in the first quarter.
"I ain't waiting for Baxter," he barked. "I want Coslet."
Bruce Coslet is the coach of the Jets.
"Damn chop block," he said. "Completely illegal. They know it."
The first Jet player to pass him was cornerback James Hasty.
"You all right, big fella?" Hasty said, from under his helmet.
Ball sneered. "Yeah, I'm . . . nah, I ain't all right."
He didn't even look at the guy.
Hasty moved on.
Confrontation afterward More players converged in the tunnel, their cleats
clomping on the concrete floor. Jets defensive tackle Bill Pickel spotted
Ball, and came over.
"Hey, you OK?"
Ball glared. Pickel moved on.
Now came Baxter, the guy whose helmet went right into Ball's knee on that
second-and-five play in the first quarter, a play in which Ball was completely
engaged in a standing body lock with center Jim Sweeney. That's supposed to be
illegal. Nothing was called. Ball went down and knew his season was done.
Baxter saw Ball afterward and trotted right to him. Big mistake.
"Yo, I was just trying to block someone, baby, you know how it is,
everybody got to block somebody, I was just doin' my job."
"Hey," Ball snarled, leaning into him. "That was a f--- up play. You know
it."
"I was just trying to block."
"That was f----d up."
"Let's go over here and talk, man."
"I can't walk!" Ball yelled.
Baxter slid away into the crowd of players.
"Where's Coslet at?" Ball said. By now the crowd was thick, players,
cheerleaders, referees, cart drivers. In the middle, Ball spotted some green
jackets, and across the way he saw Coslet. He couldn't get to him, but he
lifted a crutch in the air and he yelled, he yelled above the echoes and above
the engine noise and above the screams and blaring music from the field.
There was no mistaking the voice of Jerry Ball, a big man cut down.
"YO!" he screamed after Coslet. "IT WASN'T WORTH IT! 'CAUSE YOU STILL GOT
YOUR A-- KICKED!"
Coslet looked over his shoulder, then turned away and was swallowed by the
sea of his team. And he was gone.
Injuries everywhere In the end, that will be all the retribution coming to
Jerry Ball this season, that and the fact that his team, which for so many
years had lacked a winning instinct, much less a killer instinct, now managed
to find both. You can circle Sunday on your calendars if you are a Detroit
football fan, because it was the day the Lions learned just how tough they
have become.
This was George Jamison making a crushing sack on third- and-one, and Dan
Owens making a crushing sack on third-and- two and Melvin Jenkins making a
crushing sack that separated quarterback Ken O'Brien from the ball. This was
William White slamming so hard into running back Freeman McNeil you could
hear his bones rattle. This was Barry Sanders being treated like a dish rag,
thrown into the Jets' sideline whenever they got a chance, yet managing to
burn them for 114 yards.
This was injuries and more injuries, Ray Crockett carried off the field
by four of his teammates, Bennie Blades carted off, Tracy Hayworth flat on the
sidelines, as doctors worked on him. There was even a fan who fell from a
railing. He was taken off on a stretcher.
"I haven't seen so many stretchers in any game I've ever played in here,"
Kevin Glover admitted, after the Lions held off the Jets, 34-20, in a
furious, desperate and brutal 3 1/2- hour game. "We had to suck it up and win.
And we did. We made a promise before this season. Don't think playoffs when
you're out there. Don't think record. Just think win."
He looked around the room. Eric Sanders had his knee wrapped in ice and
crutches under his arm. Jamison was hobbling, Chris Spielman was hobbling.
Toby Caston pulled off his uniform and just stared out.
"That was the nastiest game I've played in since I was playing for the
Houston Oilers. And we played some dirty football down there. . . .
"But what they did to Jerry was wrong, it was a cheap shot. And we had to
come together for him."
It seems that this team is doing that every week, doesn't it? Coming
together for a fallen Rodney Peete, for a fallen Mike Cofer, for a fallen
Mike Utley, now for a fallen Jerry Ball. You wonder at what point the fallen
exceed the material needed to come together.
Apparently not yet.
"Why did you stick around here?" Ball was asked after the game was over.
"You could have dressed and gone home. Was it just to yell at the Jets?"
Ball pushed down on his crutches and stared. "That's not what it's about,"
he said. "I wanted to let them know what they did, yeah. But mostly I wanted
to be with my teammates after this win. We're in this together, you know.
Wherever it goes."
You can bang on it.
FOOTBALL; DLIONS; INJURY; JERRY BALL; COLUMN;Lions