<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9502090031
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
951208
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Friday, December 08, 1995
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1C
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1995, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
GREAT SCOTT THE DIFFERENCE IN LIONS' SURGE
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
Let's be honest. Football may be a team game in spirit, but in today's
NFL, one man is often the difference between winning and losing.

  That man is the quarterback.

  It hasn't always been  this way. Once blockers and running backs were more
important than the guy slinging the ball. But today, with teams passing on
what used to be running plays, a hot quarterback is worth four wheels and  an
engine. He's the green light, the Pentium chip, the rudder of the ship. If the
rudder breaks, the ship goes awry.
  Look around the NFL. When Dan Marino went down, the Dolphins wilted. When
Philadelphia  made a quarterback change, the Eagles began to win. Brett Favre
is hot? Green Bay is 9-4. Dave Brown is cold? The Giants are 4-9. Dallas
without Troy Aikman isn't Dallas. Denver without John Elway couldn't  win a
coin toss.
  Which brings us to Detroit, and Scott Mitchell, who, just a few weeks ago,
was hearing boos at the Silverdome. That, of course, was during the Lions'
"losing" period. (The Lions' season can now be broken down like Picasso's
painting career, his "blue" period, his "rose" period -- their "losing"
period, their "winning" period.)
  This happier era began, not coincidentally, when  Mitchell caught fire.
  It will continue as long as he burns.
  "Yeah, it's a little strange," Mitchell says with his Tom Cruise grin when
asked to compare the booing with the cheering. "I can't  lie and say I didn't
hear when they were booing me. I've never been booed in my life.
  "That's why I'm trying to have an even temperament. I like what's happening
now. But I learned last year. Things  can change at the drop of a hat."
  Hmm. Nobody drop your hat.
 
Knowledge is comfort 
 
  This whole streak is perched on Mitchell's shoulders. He is like the king
on a chess board, like a Pac-Man  that gobbles the dots in a video game. Never
mind what Barry Sanders is doing, or how acrobatic Herman Moore and Brett
Perriman can be. If Mitchell is off his game, it all falls apart.
  The reason  the Lions have been able to win four in a row is that Mitchell
has been the threat he was supposed to be when the Lions signed him. Teams can
no longer stack defenders like artillery tanks to stop Sanders;  if they do,
Mitchell simply does as he did all night Monday against Chicago -- fires to a
receiver in single coverage. This is like someone holding down your right arm
while you smack them with your  left.
  Earlier in the year Mitchell, 27, wasn't always delivering the smack. He
would miss people. He would throw to the wrong guy. It is no accident that
during all seven of the Lions' wins this  season, Mitchell completed over 60
percent of his passes, and in their six losses he did it just once.
  "Are you more comfortable now?" he is asked.
  "Yeah, I know the people around me better."
  Mitchell is a big guy, he throws with zip, and he sweats like a
sharecropper. By the first quarter, the back of his neck is glistening, so you
know he's trying hard out there. Yes, he runs like a major  appliance on a
push cart, but everyone knew that. The only question left for his critics is
leadership -- what some call his swagger.
  He may have more than meets the eye.
 
Quiet demeanor deceiving
 
  "Scott isn't one of those 'shut up and listen to me' quarterbacks," says
Perriman. I go to Perriman for quarterback evaluations because not only has he
snagged NFL passes from Mitchell, Rodney  Peete, Erik Kramer, Andre Ware and
Bobby Hebert, but in college he caught Bernie Kosar, Steve Walsh and Vinny
Testaverde.
  "Kosar and Walsh, they're take-charge guys. Real vocal. Testaverde lets his
 talent do the talking. Scott is steady. He only shows his emotion after the
drive is over. Like you can get a 20-yard completion, another 20-yard
completion, nothing. But once you get in the end zone,  he's like 'Yes! yes!'
  "When I caught that pass (a diving reception that set up a touchdown)
against Tampa Bay? Aw, man, Scott went crazy. He came running up screaming,
'What a catch! What an unbelievable catch!' I was like, what's he yelling
about my catch for? He should be saying, 'What a pass!' "
  Mitchell is not a snarler like Dan Marino, the man he worked behind in
Miami. He is not a legend like  Joe Montana, who doesn't even have to speak.
Mitchell is a likable fellow, a former Eagle scout, a graduate of a Utah
college who doesn't curse very often.
  You know what? Steve Young was all those  things. The point with Mitchell
is, he's still in his second year on the job. Forget the four seasons in
Miami, where he played seven games. That was summer stock. He is in charge
here, gaining confidence with each win. He manages to handle Moore, Perriman
and Johnnie Morton telling him they're open on every play. That can't be easy.
  Personally, I'd like to see him throw his weight around a little  more,
but, hey, I come from the city. We do that stuff.
  "I just try to be myself," Mitchell says. "I'm not a rah-rah guy, but I
don't take any crap from anyone."
  He said crap?
  Well. You see  how things change? The Lions are on a terrific roll. I have
no idea how long it will last. I do know when it will end. It will end when
Mitchell has a bad game.
  No one here is in any hurry.
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<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
COLUMN;  LIONS
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
