9709020145
DETROIT FREE PRESS
970829
Friday, August 29, 1997
METRO FINAL
1C
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1997, Detroit Free Press
SANDERS WON'T SAY IT, BUT HE'S THINKING BIG
This is how you stop Barry Sanders. You cut off his lanes. Give him nowhere to
go. Make him plow right into you and then try to hold on.
I am talking about interviewing him.
This explains why I was standing by myself outside the trainer's area in the
far back corner of the Lions' locker room Thursday. I know Barry. I have run
this drill before. I knew he was in that room. I knew he had to come out. I
strategically placed myself between the corridor and the meeting rooms --
where he had to go next -- and waited for the inevitable collision.
Of course, I looked a little aimless, all by myself, as if waiting for a bus.
"Hey, Mitch, whatcha doin' just standing there?" Herman Moore said.
"Oh, you know," I said, shuffling my feet.
"Yeah, I saw you standing there, too, didn't even recognize you," Johnnie
Morton said.
"Oh, you know . . ." I said.
They shrugged. But I did not move. I would not surrender this spot. I know
Barry. This is how it gets done. You go where he goes. You shadow. You wait.
Forget his locker. You wait by his locker, you end up interviewing his socks.
Besides, it was this elusiveness that I wanted to ask Barry about in the first
place. He was pretty much incommunicado during his whole contract thing. And
since he rejoined the team, I hadn't seen a whole lot of quotes.
For example, I read Sports Illustrated's preview on the Lions, and not a word
from Sanders, the most important player on the team. Same with several other
periodicals. TV people I know claim they wait hours in vain for a Barry sound
bite. And he has this habit of scooting out the back door after games.
It all seemed kind of strange, given that Barry, in his ninth season as a
Lion, gets more and more familiar. You would think he'd become more talkative,
not less.
Barry's typical day
So when Sanders emerged from the room, I dug in my heels, cut off his angles
and applied the journalistic tackle.
"Barry," I said, pulling out the notepad.
He raised his eyes. He hadn't seen me in a good while, but he looked as if
he'd just left me a minute ago.
"Is it my imagination, or do you seem even more reclusive this preseason?"
Barry grinned and said, "Hmmph."
(This, by the way, is a paragraph for Barry. "Hmmph." Many times, he simply
says "Hmm," which I consider a Barry sentence. It's the extra "ph" that makes
it a paragraph.)
"Nah, man, I'm here," he continued. "I'm here every day, 8:30 to 4:30."
"You're not making yourself scarce?"
Again a grin. "Nah."
"Then why so few quotes? Why so few interviews?"
"I dunno. Maybe some of your colleagues haven't had much to ask me."
He smiled and rolled his eyes, and we were back to the same quixotic Barry
Sanders that this remarkable athlete has always been. Barry is humble about
his talent, but I have never believed his silence was shyness or intimidation
or even sweetness.
I believe Barry is quiet because he's smart.
And because he is smart, I think inside he's champing at the bit to get this
new season started. Why?
Well, to paraphrase a presidential campaign slogan, "It's the fullback,
stupid."
It's not Wayne's World
For the first time since arriving in Detroit, Barry Sanders, the greatest
improviser since Miles Davis, will actually have a backfield mate whose job is
to create holes for him.
"From a common sense point of view," Sanders admitted, "it is an idea that
might have been tried a little earlier."
Write that down, folks. Because it's as close as Sanders will ever come to
saying Wayne Fontes misused him during his tenure. There were times in the
last eight years that Sanders took the handoff and could've brushed the teeth
of eight defensive players, all looking to clobber him. It was up to Barry to
wiggle out of trouble.
At least now, there will be one backfield guy whose job is to spring a little
more daylight for the fleet-footed Sanders. Besides, under Bobby Ross' altered
offensive scheme -- more use of tight ends -- there should be blocks where
there weren't blocks before, and plays that work because of holes, not because
Sanders sprinkled pixie dust. This is why some experts are predicting record
yardage for Sanders in 1997.
"With Wayne, it was different, this was his first head coach job," Sanders
said. "Coach (Ross) has a lot of experience. He's been to a Super Bowl. And he
likes to get up and talk."
"Talk?" I said.
"Yeah, man. He talks about everything."
What a concept, Barry! Talking! But don't be fooled. Sanders is listening.
Ross's Super Bowl experience means a lot. So does the new scheme. I asked
Barry whether, at age 29, he felt like "finally, I have the coach and system
to make me shine and win."
Barry smiled. "I don't know, things have worked out pretty well for me so
far."
Classic Barry. And end of today's conversation. He pulled a juke move to the
left, and slid toward the meeting room door.
Never mind. Two more days until the season opener, and this is what I believe.
I believe Barry thinks this is the year he's been waiting for.
Whether he says so or not.
To leave a message for sports columnist Mitch Albom, call 1-313-222-4581.
Mitch will sign copies of his new book, "Tuesdays With Morrie," tonight, 7-8,
Media Play in Clinton Township; Saturday, 11 a.m.-noon, Webster's in Okemos;
and Sept. 5, 7-8 p.m., Little Professor in Ann Arbor.
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
COLUMN; BARRY SANDERS; INTERVIEW