ESPN

by Steve Wulf

  Newspaper articles, box scores, and artifacts, many of them dating to pre–Civil War days, are displayed on the exclusive tour. The game’s newest inductees can view baseballs from the 1850s; team pictures, including an 1889 photo of Chicago’s National League club on a tour of Egypt; and the earliest known player contract, signed by Levi Meyerle in February 1870 for a team in the National Association.

  Baseball and politics are on display—this 1860 Currier and Ives lithograph depicts Abraham Lincoln in a victorious pose at home plate as he and his former rivals use common baseball terms to describe the just-completed presidential election.

  Equally memorable are the VIP tours at the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio, created by the NFL in 2008. Suggested by former Dallas Cowboys receiver Michael Irvin to commissioner Roger Goodell in 2007, the tours are attended by all NFL draftees and rookie free agents and have a similar goal of connecting today’s players to football’s past. The rookies are accompanied on the tours by football Hall of Famers and Joe Horrigan, the football museum’s VP of communications and exhibits.

  One of the featured artifacts is known as pro football’s birth certificate, a one-page accounting sheet from November 12, 1892, which indicates that William “Pudge” Heffelfinger accepted $500 to play one game of football, thus making him the first known professional.

  Oakland Raiders players walk through the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio, on May 28, 2008.

  Completely white footballs like this one were used for night games in the NFL in the early 1950s.

  The players get to see old leather helmets and the first face masks—invented not just to protect a player’s face but also to conceal his identity during pro games so that he could continue to play as an amateur on the collegiate level. Another marvel is a white football, used for early night games, when lighting was less than ideal.

  A highlight of the tour is a pair of 1946 Cleveland Browns player contracts signed by Hall of Famers Bill Willis and Marion Motley. Willis and Motley were two of the four African American players (the L.A. Rams’ Kenny Washington and Woody Strode were the other two) who ended the sport’s color barrier one year prior to Jackie Robinson’s signing with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947.

  Horrigan often relates stories told to him by Willis and Motley about late hits and the other forms of abuse they endured through the early years of their careers, none of which were flagged for unnecessary roughness. The impression made the first time a flag was thrown for a late hit was so vivid that Motley never forgot the name of the referee: Tommy Hughitt.

  FACE VALUE

  A WSOP WINNER ON HOW TO HIDE YOUR EMOTIONS

  It’s the final table at the 2003 World Series of Poker—top prize, $2.5 million—and the 27-year-old accountant Chris Moneymaker is playing heads up against poker professional Sam Farha. Moneymaker has nothing after the flop. Still nothing after the turn, but when Farha bets $300,000, Moneymaker raises him $500,000 on a stone-cold bluff. Farha calls. Gulp.

  The river card is no help to Moneymaker, but he confidently pushes in all his chips and waits. And waits. Farha, who holds the winning hand, stares him down. “You must have missed your flush, huh?” he asks. No answer. After another tense minute, Farha, the pro, lays down his cards, conceding the $1.8 million pot. So yeah, Chris Moneymaker knows something about keeping a poker face.

  “When he said, ‘You missed your flush?’ I felt it in my throat,” Moneymaker recalls. “But I tried not to move a muscle. I tried to go to sleep.”

  That is the key to Moneymaker’s poker face: He clears his mind of all thoughts. He may not literally try to fall asleep in a pressure poker situation, but he is visualizing himself on a calm beach somewhere. As anyone knows who has seen Rounders or watches the WSOP, poker is not about playing the cards but rather about playing your opponents. And the ability to keep a poker face—a face that lacks any interpretable expression—is the greatest skill a player can have. Of course, it’s not just the face that can give away information; you must also mind your hands, feet, heart, and the rest of your body. Here are Moneymaker’s tips for how not to give it up:

  Wait until the action is yours to look at your cards. When it’s your turn, take a deep breath and look at the two cards together. Players who look at their cards one at a time often pause in between if they like the first one. “They may squeeze an ace,” Moneymaker says.

  Do not be fazed by the cards you have. “In my younger days, I would get excited with pocket aces,” Moneymaker says, “but I’ve been beat on them so many times that I know they’re not a winner yet. Nothing is.” Stare straight ahead and think only about how you will act in different situations.

  If you make a bet and someone is trying to get a read on you, use visualization to remove yourself emotionally from the game. You can stare your opponent in the eyes (it’s easier to actually stare at the bridge of his or her nose), or if you’re not comfortable with that, you can close your eyes. You can also wear reflective sunglasses.

  Remember, it’s only a game. “You can always win and you can always lose,” says Moneymaker. “Keep that in the back of your mind. I have a picture of my kids. It keeps it in perspective and makes it a lot easier.”

  Chris Moneymaker at the table during the WSOP No-Limit Texas Hold’em World Championship Event in Las Vegas, Nevada, on July 31, 2006.

  10 COMMANDMENTS

  A DECALOGUE OF SPORTS SINS

  Every sport has a written set of rules (law) and an unwritten set of rules (justice). Breaking the former will get you penalized. Breaking the latter will get you a fastball under the chin or a clothesline across the neck. Because codes of conduct are often lengthy, let’s restrict this list to ten commandments, one per sport:

  Baseball. Thou shalt not steal with a big lead.

  Football. Thou shalt pull your starters with a big lead in the fourth quarter.

  Hockey. Thou shalt not give the opposing goalie a snow job.

  Golf. Thou shalt not walk across a player’s putting line.

  Tennis. Thou shalt not use the warm-up as practice.

  Soccer. Thou shalt kick the ball out of bounds when an opposing player gets injured.

  Auto racing. Thou shalt not bump-draft in the turns.

  Basketball. Thou shalt not use a full-court press with a big lead.

  Lacrosse. Thou shalt not request an equipment check as a ploy.

  Boxing. Thou shalt not bite off part of your opponent’s ear.

  The longest golf course in the world is the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain Golf Club in Lijiang City, China: 8,450 yards at an elevation of 10,000 feet in the Himalayas.

  Evander Holyfield grimaces after his ear is bitten by Mike Tyson in the third round of their WBA heavyweight championship fight in Las Vegas, Nevada, on June 28, 1997.

  BIG FLAP

  HOW NOT TO TROT AROUND THE BASES

  Perhaps the biggest sin in baseball is to call attention to yourself after hitting a home run. Yielding the round-tripper is embarrassing enough—there’s no need to rub it in. Kirk Gibson pumping his fist as he rounded the bases after hitting a home run to win game 1 of the 1988 World Series—that was OK. But flipping your bat, standing at home, taking your time, or otherwise showboating in a meaningless regular-season game will invite scorn and retribution—heaped upon you or the guy coming up after you. As ESPN’s Tim Kurkjian points out, “When Erubiel Durazo was new to the Diamondbacks, he took a long time rounding the bases after a home run. His teammate Matt Williams confronted him in the dugout and told him, ‘That’s not how we do it around here.’”

  The most respectful trot belongs to the Blue Jays’ Scott Rolen, who just puts his head down. Some players, though, can’t help themselves. The most notorious offender was Jeffrey Leonard, a 1980s All-Star outfielder whose nicknames were Hackman and Penitentiary Face. Somewhere along the way, he came up with four different home run trots, all involving the way he held his “flaps,” or arms. “One flap down” meant he would jog slowly around the bases with h
is inside arm straight out and angled down and his outside arm alongside his body—like an airplane banking to the left. He hit four homers for the the Giants in the 1987 NL Championship Series to earn the series MVP honor, but his “flap down” trot was cited as the prime motivation for the victorious Cardinals.

  Then there was Willie Montanez, a colorful first baseman (1966–82) who made the most of his 139 career homers. Before he got to each base, Montanez would do a little stutter step, and he would take a really big turn around first base. Recalls Tommy Hutton, a former Expos teammate who now announces for the Marlins, “He hit a home run one night off Fergie Jenkins and did his usual act. He came into the dugout and said, ‘I know that SOB is going to knock me down next time.’ The next time up, boom, Jenkins hit him. But Willie kept doing it.”

  Scott Rolen knows the right way to do it.

  IN FOCUS

  SO YOU WANT TO BE A SPORTS PHOTOGRAPHER?

  Joe Jurevicius of the New York Giants catches a pass for a touchdown against the Minnesota Vikings in the NFC Championship game on January 14, 2001.

  Advertisements for new cameras often carry come-ons like “Shoot Like a Pro.” Well, thanks to digital technology, action photography has become easier over the years, even for amateurs. But if you really want your photos to look professional—well, it takes more than equipment. Here, Rob Tringali, who is a photographer for ESPN The Magazine and has shot 19 Super Bowls, 12 World Series, and 5 Olympic Games, shares his tips.

  Shooting sports requires good instincts, patience, and—this never hurts—a little luck. You can help that luck by eating right and drinking right. I can recall working a 14-inning playoff game in Fenway that lasted five hours. News flash: They aren’t going to wait for you to get back from the bathroom.

  You should also dress right: comfortable shoes and clothes for all occasions. I don’t care if there are blue skies when you leave your house—always bring rain gear.

  As for camera gear, remember that in most sporting venues, you are a good distance away from the action. So the go-to lens for most photogs is a standard 400-mm 2.8 lens. But you should also have a medium lens for action somewhere in the middle and a wide-angle for the action that ends up in your lap. Since you never know where and when the action will take place, carrying three camera bodies is a necessity.

  Get to the game early; battling crowds and traffic will get you off to a bad start. Make sure your equipment is all there and working: charged batteries, flash cards, backup pieces, etc. Have a game plan for your day’s assignment. What’s more likely, an offensive or a defensive game? This can help out in your positioning. Look around the stadium for cool angles that no one else has sorted out yet, or cool backgrounds that would make a good photo, or maybe an interesting place to hang a camera remote for another unique look at the event. Notice your backgrounds: A security guy with a green neon jacket can ruin a great frame.

  Bud Grant never won an NFL championship in his 18 years as a coach with the Minnesota Vikings. But he did win an NBA title as a backup forward on the 1950 Minneapolis Lakers.

  Stay alert. Just when you think the game is boring and there hasn’t been a picture yet, boom—something immediately happens. And it could happen to you: Today’s athletes are big and fast, and they will hurt if they hit you. Baseballs and hockey pucks travel at high speeds and can send you to the hospital—I’ve seen that happen quite a few times. Since you’re so close to the action, all you can do to stay out of harm’s way is depend on your experience. Should I keep kneeling down on the football field and get a cool frame, or should I get up and let it go? It often comes down to split-second responses. For the beginner, I would say get up and leave; for the experienced photographer, you probably know how long you can hang in there.

  Remember, there are no second chances in photography. And rest assured, if you don’t get the shot, one of your talented competitors will, and you’ll probably see it all over the place, reminding you of how unprepared you were that day.

  One last thing. You’re a professional just like the athletes you’re shooting. So act like one.

  MIGHTIEST GAME (FOOTBALL)

  HAIL MARY, FULL OF GRACE

  After the game, the father of the winning quarterback said, “There’ll be a million people who will say they were here for this.”

  On the face of it, the game should not have been a big deal: Boston College (7–2) at the University of Miami (8-3) on November 23, 1984. There was no national championship at stake; B.C. had already committed to the Cotton Bowl; the Heisman Trophy votes for Eagles quarterback Doug Flutie were already submitted.

  But Flutie, the 5′9″ senior, was going up against another storied QB, 6′4″ sophomore Bernie Kosar, and somebody at CBS had had the prescience to move the game in the Orange Bowl, originally scheduled for September 29, to the Friday after Thanksgiving. (The network had to pay Rutgers more than $80,000 to bow out of a November 24 game with Miami.) So a lot of people with holiday time on their hands were watching.

  What they saw was amazing: 15 scoring drives, none less than 55 yards; 1,273 yards of total offense, 919 of it in the air; 11 passes from Flutie to his roommate, Gerard Phelan; 92 points. Flutie threw 11 straight complete passes to start the game and stake B.C. to a 14–0 lead. Kosar rallied the Hurricanes with 11 straight completions in the second quarter. A 96-yard drive by Miami to start the second half tied the score at 28-all. Back and forth they went, toe to toe. With 3:50 remaining in the game, Flutie led an 82-yard drive that gave B.C. a 41–38 lead. Kosar took the Hurricanes right back down the field to give them a 45–41 lead.

  Flutie had 80 yards to go in 28 seconds. Two complete passes and a penalty put the ball at the Miami 48 with just 6 seconds left. At this point, just as B.C. did, let’s have Flutie take over:

  The last play of the game we called was 55 Flood Tip. Everybody lined up out to the right…. I decided I was going to drop back, try to buy some time, roll to the right, let the guys get there, and throw a jump ball…. I just let it heave to Gerard….

  It’s so funny to watch the tape of Gerard just chugging down the field with his head down. He didn’t even bother turning around and looking until he got to the end zone. Because I was rolling right and the DBs kind of froze, he got behind them at about the 10-yard line. At the five-yard line he turned and kind of backpedaled as he saw the ball coming toward him…. Gerard said he tried to catch it in his stomach, but the ball slipped down and he trapped it against his thigh and fell into the end zone. When he landed he saw there was writing on the ground underneath him and knew he’d scored. Then he showed the referee he had the ball.

  Officially ruled a 48-yard pass, the ball actually traveled some 65 yards in the air. As Flutie later wrote (with Perry Lefko) in his eponymous autobiography:

  The amazing thing for me was I didn’t even know who caught the ball. I saw the ball fall over the heads of the two defensive backs and thought it fell incomplete. A second or two later I saw the official’s arms in the back of the end zone go up and rule it a touchdown. I started shaking my head and laughing…. A good five minutes later, I made it to the locker room and asked our strong safety, Dave Pereira, who caught the ball. He told me Gerard did, and I kind of shook my head and said, “That figures.”

  Flutie may have laughed about what would become the most famous Hail Mary pass in college football history, but some people had a very different reaction. At the time of the game, Tom Coughlin was with the Philadelphia Eagles as their wide-receiver coach, but he had been Flutie’s quarterback coach the year before at B.C. Here’s his recollection of The Pass:

  I came home from practice and opened the door and my wife and my four children were sitting there in the family room crying, and I thought, “Oh my God, what’s happened here? Has there been some kind of tragedy that I’m not aware of?” I said to my wife, “What’s the matter?” She looked at me and said, “He did it again. He did it again.”

  Doug Flutie is held up by brother Darren after B.C.’s victory ov
er the Miami Hurricanes.

  MASKED MEN

  MEET THE PATRON SAINT OF GOALIES

  Given the heft of the hard rubber puck and the speeds at which it can travel after coming off a stick, it’s hard to believe that goalie masks did not come into common use until 1959. Actually, Clint Benedict of the Montreal Maroons devised a crude leather mask in 1930 after a shot by Howie Morenz of the crosstown Canadiens broke his nose, but he abandoned it after two games because it impaired his vision.

  The father of the modern mask is Jacques Plante, and the birth date is November 1, 1959. That’s when Plante, then with the Canadiens, was hit in the face with a shot from Andy Bathgate of the New York Rangers. Plante left the ice to get stitches and returned carrying an experimental fiberglass mask he had been using in practice. Ridiculed as a coward when he continued wearing the mask, Plante said, “If you jump from an airplane without a parachute, is that considered an act of bravery?”

  Plante’s mask, which resembled the one worn by Jason in the Friday the 13th slasher flicks, soon gave way to other innovative masks: the pretzel style worn by Ken Dryden, the Lefty Wilson models made by the assistant Detroit Red Wings trainer for Terry Sawchuk and others, hinged masks and caged masks that offered greater protection to the neck and head of the goalie. In 1976, Islanders goalie Chico Resch brought art to his mask by allowing a friend to paint it.

  Today’s masks bear little resemblance to Plante’s pioneer model. But modern goalies still owe Plante a debt of gratitude for their well-being, not to mention their teeth. At the same time, they should lift their masks in recognition of Andy Brown. The journeyman for the Pittsburgh Penguins was the last goalie to play without a mask, on April 7, 1974. He and the Penguins lost, to the Atlanta Flames, 6–3.