9601300349
DETROIT FREE PRESS
960923
Monday, September 23, 1996
METRO FINAL
1D
MITCH ALBOM Free Press Sports Writer
Copyright (c) 1996, Detroit Free Press
JOHNNIE GETS HIS TURN ON THE SPOT
Receivers are like puppies, they all want to play with the ball. When they
don't get it they yap. And they keep yapping until they do.
Johnnie Morton yapped. He said he was frustrated with his lack of
catches. He joked that maybe he should wear Herman Moore's number. Or at least
Brett Perriman's number. After all, he was behind two Pro Bowl receivers on a
team that also had the best running back in football.
Remember Gale Sayers' book, "I Am Third"? Sayers was referring to God and
family. Morton, using those criteria, would call his book "I Am Sixth."
But needy puppies will get attention eventually --especially if they know
how to catch and run -- and Morton has always known how to do that. Heck, he
was a major star in college, an All-America at Southern Cal, everybody's first
choice at the receiver position. He just got in the slowest line at the toll
booth.
On Sunday, he found the fast lane.
"It was good to feel like a receiver again, instead of some kind of
wingback," said a smiling Morton, who had seven catches and 174 yards, his
best day ever in the NFL. "I've been waiting for this feeling for a long
time."
You had to know it was Morton's day when the first two passes he caught
were for touchdowns. On No. 1, he saw Scott Mitchell scrambling, scooted
across the middle, took a pass in stride and went 15 yards to the end zone.
The second was even prettier. Morton blew down the sidelines, saw
Mitchell scramble then uncork a long floater, which Morton pulled in smoothly,
just as his defender, Kevin Miniefield, fell down, facefirst.
See ya. Sixty-two yards. Morton high-stepped to the end zone as if
leading a marching band down Main Street.
"That's the most fun I've had in the NFL," he said.
Every dog has his day.
Be patient, the quarterback says
Now, until Sunday, Morton had six catches on the year. Moore had 26. So
you could understand Morton's frustration. Here was a college superstar -- who
once caught 15 passes in a single game -- in the rarest of situations in
today's NFL, buried because of too much depth. All you hear is how every team
is thin at talent. And here was Detroit with two 1,000- yard receivers last
year -- and then Morton. What's a guy to do?
"They all just have to wait and be patient," said Mitchell, who had a darn
good game himself. "This is a talented group. We'll get around to everyone."
Sunday was Morton's chance to stand out. It was as if he were wearing
shocking pink and everyone else was wearing gray. This is the same guy who
just a few weeks ago, said of Mitchell, "if he wants to throw me the ball he
will. Even one pass would be cool."
I guess Sunday was super-cool.
Now, speaking of Mitchell, we need to address this newfound love of
scrambling. There have been many times in this season when Mitchell felt like
running away. Perhaps we should have let him.
Mitchell had his most effective game of the year Sunday, and many of his
big plays had this in common: He was running for his life when he made them.
Hmmm. In the first quarter, the Bears came after him, he broke free,
rolled out, sidearmed a beautiful pass to Perriman, who stretched like
something out of a comic book and kept his feet in bounds for a first down.
Not long after, Mitchell scrambled again, and found Moore open for a
15-yard gain.
Feet, don't fail him now.
In the second quarter, Mr. Roll Out scrambled away from a would-be
tackler and found Morton on that first touchdown. And on the second, the
62-yarder, Mitchell was chased again.
At this point, I'm thinking the offensive lineman are saying to one
another, "I don't know about you, baby, but I'm letting my man go past me."
"I hear ya. We could win by 30."
Scott Mitchell, Happy Toes.
Mitchell? Speed? Hah!
Now, when you see Mitchell, you don't immediately think "speed."
Actually, you think "lounge chair." Mitchell has a thick frame, a slow manner,
and a measured way of talking, none of which suggests a track star. And in
truth, he's not going to shock any JUGS guns out there. But quarterbacks don't
have to be fast, they just have to be elusive, and if Mitchell cultivates the
ability to slip defenders, this team becomes twice as dangerous.
"Is Scott Mitchell the next Steve Young?" someone jokingly asked Brett
Perriman.
To say he rolled his eyes would be an understatement.
"Running is not his forte," Brett said.
"Well, once he starts to scramble, how much time do you figure you have?"
Perriman laughed. "About two seconds."
Hey. You can do a lot in two seconds. And let's salute Mitchell on a
stellar game. He went 24-for-36 for 336 yards and four touchdowns. I'd say
that's a star performance, wouldn't you?
Of course, there is a limit to all this footwork. Mitchell used the
quarterback sneak for the Lions' fourth touchdown, and he came out of the pile
like a fullback, waving a fist, his pads sticking out of his shirt.
Next thing I knew, there were five minutes left and he was running on
third down with a 19-point lead.
Whoa. Calm down, Carl Lewis.
Ah, well. There are worse problems. For now, the Lions improve to 2-2,
they rekindle the furnace of their offense, and life is looking up. Of
course, they have a nine-game winning streak at the Silverdome, and a
three-game losing streak on the road. Off to Tampa now, to see how these dogs
play outside.
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
FOOTBALL; LIONS; JOHNNIE MORTON