49ers 34, Lions 31. A crushing end to the season.

The Lions lost a heartbreaker yesterday and I'm pretty devastated...well, as devastated as one can get from the result of a sportsball game.

Consider this a particular blog post a therapy session. My own private therapy session in which I vent to nobody in particular. Read at your own risk.

I may need to resign myself to the real possibility that the Detroit Lions will never go to a Super Bowl in my lifetime. I need to make my peace with this. (And you may need to take everything I write with a grain of salt because I'm despondent and simply venting).

I am honestly surprised and a little embarrassed that I'm taking this loss so hard. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with how great the team looked in the first half (24-7 lead) and how utterly abysmal they played in the second half (outscored 27-7; lost 34-31). The Lions dangled the Super Bowl carrot in front of us fans before quickly pulling it away.

I don't have anything else to say about this game, so this will likely be my only post about it. 

Detroit Lions thoughts heading up to their next big game

We are rapidly approaching the day (Sunday, January 28) when the Detroit Lions play against the San Francisco 49ers for a spot in that big game with the initials S.B. That special game that I am too jittery and superstitious to refer to by name.

I'm old enough to remember when the Lions were in this same position but came up short, so I'm trying not to get my hopes up. If the Lions win on Sunday, it will be one of the top five sports moments of my life, maybe even top three. Hell, it might be number one. I honestly can't even measure it at this point because I can't even imagine how it will feel. Suffice to say it will be tremendous, and for that reason I feel compelled to temper my enthusiasm for now.

Whatever happens on Sunday, it's been a great season for the Lions: a season in which the franchise has already exorcized a few demons. They won their first division title in 30 years and won their first playoff  game in 32 years. In fact, the Lions have, thus far, won two playoff games. That's the first time they've won multiple playoff games in a season since 1957.

I feel a bit disappointed that I didn't make it to a game this season, but I was at least at Ford Field in 2022 when there were inklings that the Lions might finally be turning things around. That season, players like Alex Anzalone, Amon-Ra St. Brown, rookie Aidan Hutchinson, and Penei Sewell (to name a few) gave me hope that the Lions could at least be competitive. After a terrible start last season, the Lions were the hottest team in the NFL in the second half and finished the year with a winning record of nine wins, and eight losses. They narrowly missed the playoffs.

This year, rookies Jahmyr Gibbs (running back) and Sam LaPorta (tight end) have made significant contributions. It's heartening and exciting that the Lions' front office is finally making smart draft choices. Consistently bad personnel moves were yet another failure of this organization for decades, with only a few exceptions. Finally, the organization has become more savvy.

In Dan Campbell, the Lions finally have a coach who knows what he's doing. The players all seem to love him and play hard for him. Even though "Dan Gamble" does tend to get a bit too reckless with his on-field coaching decisions, he has tempered that a bit recently.

That leads me to perhaps the single most important reason the Lions have been successful the last few years: Sheila Ford Hamp. When long-time Lions owner William Clay Ford died in 2014, his widow Martha Firestone Ford assumed control. Unfortunately, the organization continued to tread water at best. It wasn't until daughter Sheila took over in 2020 that, at long last, the Lions made smart decisions. Sheila Ford Hamp hired general manager Brad Holmes and coach Campbell. And now, here we are.

The Lions might be ahead of schedule. I never would have guessed they'd  be playing for a chance to play in that big final game that shall remain nameless for now. I hoped they'd make the playoffs, and they've already far exceeded my expectations.

The Lions beat the Buccaneers

(Apologies for the font and font size. It's a bit "off" in this post).

The Detroit Lions won their second consecutive playoff game yesterday, beating the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, 31-23.

Before the game started at 3:00 PM, I was compelled to go out and burn off a little steam with a two-mile run. I got back home just in time for the kickoff.

The Lions' win was partially powered, on my end, by Metallica's Master of Puppets.

When my anxiety and total annoyance with game color analyst Cris Collinsworth reached its breaking point, I turned the volume off on the TV and popped in Metallica's Master of Puppets album to "soundtrack" the game. It was partially in honor of Lions coach Dan "Dantallica" Campbell, noted enthusiast of the band. I figured he'd approve. "Welcome Home (Sanitarium)" was playing when the Lions scored the go-ahead touchdown in the 4th quarter to make the score 24-17. Somehow, the lyrics of that song somewhat matched my mental state at that point in the game.

I'm sure most Lions fans can identify with this: I'm not quite sure how to handle myself in this playoff run. Sure, I've watched the NFL playoffs since I was a kid in the late '70s, but it's almost always been other teams playing or going deep into the playoffs. I've rarely had any emotional investment. This year feels like uncharted territory. Yes, we Lions fans had the 1991 season, but that was so long ago and was quickly extinguished when Washington destroyed the Lions the week after the Lions beat Dallas. It was over before it really started.

With this Lions win, I can't help but think of my Aunt Anne, who is no longer with us. She passionately loved the Lions and the Red Wings. Every Sunday, she'd proudly fly her Lions flag outside her house in the U.P., in the thick of Packer country. She would have been so thrilled by all of this. 

I can't allow myself to think about that big final game that has the initials S.B. You know, the one the Lions have never played in. It's the pinnacle that all Lions fans have dreamed of, but it has always seemed way too out of reach. When I dared think it was a possibility after the Lions beat Dallas on January 5, 1992, that dream was quickly snuffed out at RFK Stadium on January 12. I won't get my hopes up in 2024--or at least will try not to.

Still, the Lions have a legitimate shot. Sure, they are a flawed team, but every team--with the possible exception of the Baltimore Ravens--is a bit flawed this season. 

So, who knows?

Detroit Lions Win Their First Playoff Game in 32 Years!

(Erich Schlegel/The Dallas Morning News photo)

On January 5, 1992, I was 23 years old and working as "Christmas Help" at Schuler Books in Okemos, Michigan. It was a part-time job that would eventually morph into a full-time job, but I digress.

After my Sunday shift ended at 6:00 PM, I tagged along with co-workers to the venerable watering hole the Peanut Barrel to watch the last hour or so of the Detroit Lions' 38-6 walloping of the Dallas Cowboys in the National Football League playoffs. I should add that the Peanut Barrel was the unofficial bar of Schuler Books, as there was significant intermingling and crossover of Barrel and Schuler employees. There were Schuler people who had a long history with the Peanut Barrel. One of the little-known secrets of the book business is that they like to knock a few back afterhours, probably more than most other folks in the workforce (with the exception of the hard partying food industry folks).

So we gathered at the Barrel that long ago early Sunday evening and regaled in the Lions wrecking the Cowboys. Little did we know that this would be the Lions' greatest moment until yesterday, January 14, 2024. 32 years and nine days passed until the Detroit Lions won another playoff game. In the immediate aftermath of that Lions/Cowboys game, the teams headed in different directions. The Cowboys, led by Troy Aikman and Emmitt Smith, went on to win Super Bowls in 1992, '93, and '95. The Lions, on the other hand, could never capture the magic of that 1991 season...until now.

I watched all of yesterday's game in the comfort of our living room. Years of Lions disappointment have taught me to never have lofty expectations. In fact, it's best not to have any expectations whatsoever. I knew that it might be best for me to constructively work off my nervous energy, so I walked on our treadmill for the entire first half of the game, occasionally yelling out my trademark "Are you fucking kidding me?!!", "Jesus Fucking Christ!!" and "Yes!! Go! Go! Go!". Those expressions comprise about 3/4 of my Lions watching repertoire of verbal responses.

Last night's game was closely contested. I finished on the treadmill at halftime and retired to the couch. When the game got especially tense in the final five minutes of playing time, I had to stand up in front of the television. I have no idea why standing in front of the TV makes those anxious moments more bearable, but it does.

(Nic Antaya/Getty Images)

When Lions quarterback Jared Goff connected with wide receiver Amon-Ra St. Brown for a first down with under two minutes left, the Lions' win was sealed. The Los Angeles Rams were unable to stop the clock, and all the Lions had to do was go into the tight, protective "victory formation," snap the ball a few times, and run out the clock. All of this happened, and I was overwhelmed with a warm happy sensation that surprised me. I'd think by this age, I'd be over this, but I'm not. I know the players are multi-millionaire young athletes who have no idea who I am, but I connect with that blue-and-silver uniform with "leaping lion" logo that captivated me as a kid and has variously thrilled and crushed me for almost half a century. The players may change, but the emotional connection never breaks.

(Above: ridiculous but fun AI-generated picture; Below: my mini-helmet collection)

Speed Racer and the Mach 5

I saw this picture posted on Facebook and I had an instantaneous visceral reaction. It was the warm glow of immediate recognition and the loving embrace of childhood nostalgia.

For the uninitiated, this is Speed Racer and his car, the Mach 5. Speed Racer (aka Mach GoGoGo) was a late 1960s Japanese anime that made its way to the United States at about the same time. I, however, did not see it until at least 1973 or 1974. I remember WKBD Channel 50 in Detroit aired it. (To be quite honest, I might be wrong about it being on Channel 50. It could have also been WXON Channel 20, which also showed stuff like the old 1960s animated Spider-Man, Thor, and Incredible Hulk shows). 

Like many loves and obsessions from childhood, I can't remember the precise circumstances of how they entered my life, and this is certainly true of Speed Racer. I assume it went a little like this: I had a kindergarten/1st grade friend named Claude, who went by the nickname "Scooter." After school, I'd frequently go to his house where we'd watch TV in their semi-finished basement. The viewing was the forementioned Spider-Man, Hulk, and Thor and I am damned near positive Speed Racer was included.

I was immediately drawn to everything about the show: Speed Racer's youthful earnest enthusiasm, the spunk of his girlfriend Trixie, Chim-Chim the mischief-making chimpanzee companion, and the mysterious Racer X, Speed's long lost brother. But most of all, I loved the exciting, spine-tingling races with their spectacular fiery crashes, and most of all Speed Racer's car the Mach 5. The Mach 5's design was beautiful, and I STILL think it's beautiful. Of course, I would not have described it thus as a six or seven-year-old. Maybe I would have just said it looked "neat". Of particular noteworthiness were its downward facing headlamps and it's curvaceous--dare I say "feminine"--outline. (It's hard to believe the elementary-age me was responding to this, but who knows?). In addition to its design, the Mach 5 could do an astounding array of tricks, all from buttons arranged around the center of its steering wheel. For example, all Speed Racer had to do was press a button and enormous saw blades would appear and cut away whatever obstacles were in the Mach 5's way. Or Speed could press another button and the Mach 5 would leap over boulders, fallen tree trunks, or other race cars.

Decades later, I discovered that there as a 1:18 scale model of the Mach 5, and of course I had to fork over the $39.95 to buy it. I still have it in a place of honor alongside another favorite fictional vehicle from my childhood, the 1966 Batmobile. It was so exciting to find these precise diecast replicas, because they did not exist when I was a kid. My poor mom tried so hard to find a toy car that looked like the Mach 5, but none of them matched my exacting specifications. (I was such a little shit. Sorry, Mom!).

In conclusion, it's fascinating how just a quick view of an image from the past can instantly release a flood of warm nostalgic emotion, and this was definitely the case with the illustration of Speed Racer and the Mach 5.