Bill Callahan called his team the “dumbest team in America” after a 22-8 loss to the Denver Broncos on Sunday. No truer words have ever been spoken.
Several Raiders players were offended just the same, which can only mean one thing: They haven’t been paying attention.
“Don’t blame us for our dumb mistakes,” they seem to be saying. “Hey, man, don’t point the finger at me.”
Dennis Erickson took a different approach. He told his players he blamed himself for the 49ers’ demoralizing 44-6 loss to the Baltimore Ravens. He repeated the same to the media minutes later. The 49ers coach deserves some of the blame, no question, even if he wasn’t the one dropping passes, throwing interceptions and missing tackles. But he does not deserve it all.
Callahan has been blistered in the media for being candid and holding his players accountable. Erickson has avoided criticism by using spin control in an attempt to shield his players from the criticism they so richly deserved.
That’s the way it usually is in sports these days. With few exceptions, coaches refuse to publicly criticize their players. Maybe it’s something they learn at coaching school along with whistle maintenance and cliche management.
It makes you wonder if they are unwittingly contributing to the culture that seems to permeate the industry, a culture where fewer and fewer athletes seem willing to accept responsibility for their own failures.
It’s never about them. If a receiver isn’t productive it’s because he’s not getting the ball, not because he’s not getting open. Basketball players complain about their role and the lack of minutes and quality shots.
Baseball players complain about not being in the everyday lineup when it’s often their lack of production that keeps them tethered to the bench.
That’s why people who cover and work within the professional sports industry find that Budweiser commercial such a hoot. You’ve probably seen it. A TV reporter is interviewing a star player named Leon in the locker room after a loss. He asks the player if his four fumbles contributed to the defeat.
“Not if one of those guys had jumped on the ball,” Leon says, incredulous. “Once again, Leon can’t do everything.”
The reporter, in perfect deadpan, concludes that there’s no “I” in team, at which point Leon mutters: “There ain’t no `we’ either.”
The commercial appeals to media insiders because they know that attitude not only exists but is increasingly representative of modern athletes.
It’s a players’ game. Every coach in every sport will tell you that. They’re the ones performing on the field. But when they fail to perform, it’s often the coach who tries to protect them from what we all know is true.
These postgame diatribes have become commonplace and insult our intelligence. Callahan’s comments were refreshing by comparison. He simply said what everybody who has followed the Raiders this season knew to be true.
Callahan was truthful and candid, something that has become a rarity. Anyone who has watched his team perform during this wretched season knows that its losses are often the result of mindless play.
If Raiders players don’t believe that, if they are offended by Callahan’s remark, they are either hopelessly naive or bordering on delusional. They are the dumbest team in America, or at least in the NFL, until proven otherwise.
Callahan should be admired for his statement even if, as the coach of the team, he is guilty by association. Instead of lashing out at their coach, Raiders players should take a long look at themselves. There’s no “I” in team, all right. Apparently, there’s no “we” either.
