Open season on Tomlinson
Injured star is victim of hurtful cheap shots
UNION-TRIBUNE
January 22, 2008
I am beginning to feel LaDainian Tomlinson's pain. Not the pain in his knee, but the ache that must be taking hold in his heart.
The greatest Charger of them all is being recklessly, ridiculously and ignorantly impugned by people who presume to know how much pain another man is experiencing and how much he ought to be able to bear.
NELVIN C. CEPEDA / Union-Tribune
The Chargers' LaDainian Tomlinson has faced criticism since sitting out most of the AFC Championship Game with a sprained ligament in his left knee.
This is dumb on so many levels that it barely deserves discussion, except for its potential to inflict undeserved damage. It is illogical. It is irresponsible. It is hurtful. It is wrong.
It needs to stop now.
Tomlinson participated in only four plays in the Chargers' 21-12 AFC Championship Game loss at New England. The injury he sustained in Indianapolis – which the team characterized as a hyperextended left knee and Tomlinson says was diagnosed as a sprained medial collateral ligament – was aggravated during the Chargers' first series of plays and, oddly enough, did not heal instantaneously.
LT left the game before five minutes had elapsed, and watched most of what followed solemnly seated on the sideline. He said that he lacked the “burst” to be an effective running back and that returning to the field would have hurt his team rather than helped it.
And for this he is being pilloried on the air and in the ether as a malingering mope. Doubtlessly fueled by the half-cocked commentary that passes for analysis at some media outlets – notably that of Deion Sanders of the NFL Network – yesterday's e-mail included separate but similar complaints concerning Tomlinson's “lack of toughness,” his “negative impact,” his “childlike demeanor,” his being a “spoiled brat” and his having “no heart.”
AdvertisementEssentially, the criticism falls into two categories: 1) That Tomlinson's pain threshold was too low for a game with Super Bowl implications; 2) That LT could have contributed by cheerleading if not by ball-carrying.
The first point is preposterous. There's no way of knowing the level of Tomlinson's discomfort without inhabiting his body, and there's no way that a running back can operate effectively if he can't accelerate or cut. A running back at 60 percent is, in reality, a jogging back, and not of much use in the National Football League.
Nevertheless . .
“I have expectations, and when you don't meet my expectations, you open yourself for us to try to guess,” Sanders said. “Now what's the problem? You're a big-time player. And big-time players must play big-time games.”
Sanders says Tomlinson's injury would have to require surgery “for him to get a pass on this one.” Those are pretty bold words for a former cornerback who avoided contact as if it were a contagious disease or personal subtlety.
“He's never been a running back and had a sprained MCL,” Tomlinson said yesterday. “You tell me what running back has played with a sprained MCL and been effective. You might go out there and try to limp around and play, but it's not going to happen. I don't know how information gets passed on, but until you talk to the source of the problem, what's going on with me, I think it's ridiculous when people make comments like that.”
That Chargers quarterback Philip Rivers was willing and able to compete in New England with a matching pair of bad knees was impressive, but irrelevant. A quarterback with knee problems operates at a disadvantage, but he relies more on his arm and his judgment than his mobility.
A running back's sprained knee is roughly equivalent to a quarterback's separated shoulder. Each job has a different joint fundamental to football success. Emmitt Smith was able to win the 1994 NFL rushing title with a bum shoulder, but the brilliant career of Gale Sayers came to an abrupt end because of a 1970 knee injury.
Maybe Sayers wasn't tough enough. Maybe it was merely his misfortune to incur catastrophic knee injuries before arthroscopic surgery made them mendable. Maybe modern medicine has advanced to the point where the sports world has come to expect miracles at a moment's notice. Or maybe the sports world has become conditioned to commentators who speak first and think infrequently.
“The response has been curious, plus disappointing and foolish,” Chargers tackle Marcus McNeill told the Union-Tribune's Bill Center yesterday. “People on LT's back today haven't got a clue about LT or football. It makes you wonder about people.”
If there's a valid issue arising from Tomlinson's conduct Sunday, it would concern his disengaged decorum on the sideline. One of the more common criticisms that has been lodged involves LT's alleged “sulking” on the bench, behind his tinted visor and away from the action.
Given a preexisting reputation for pouting, LT's conduct is open to interpretation. But when you consider the cold, its adverse impact on his knee and the possibility that then existed of a Chargers' Super Bowl berth, it's hard to fault Tomlinson for saving his energy and seeking warmth.
Yet even if Tomlinson were simply indulging in self-pity, depressed at being denied the strength to perform on the biggest stage of his career, how hard is that to fathom or to forgive?
Does anyone suppose that Tomlinson preferred to sit than to chase his dream of a Super Bowl? Does anyone imagine his or her own disappointment to be any more keen than his?
“We all know that what happened was hurting more inside than whatever he was feeling physically,” said Chargers defensive end Luis Castillo. “What is being said is wrong. And anyone saying it should be embarrassed.”
Anyone who believes it does not know LaDainian Tomlinson