tk13
10-18-2004, 01:06 AM
http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/football/nfl/kansas_city_chiefs/9946175.htm
On McCleon Island, there's not much fun in the sun
JOE POSNANSKI
JACKSONVILLE, Fla. — Cornerbacks like to say that they're on an island. Well, on Sunday, Jacksonville receiver Jimmy Smith had himself a little island vacation. Yes, he was drinking piña coladas and sunning on McCleon Island. He might buy a timeshare.
Of course, Jimmy Smith has had quite a few island getaways in his NFL career. He has caught passes for more than 10,000 yards. He has made more than a few cornerbacks look sick. Still, it was hard to watch Sunday. The Chiefs' season, as usual, was on the line. They needed this victory badly. They led with 2 minutes left. The Jaguars had the ball and most of the field to go. And you knew, just knew, that on every single play, Jacksonville quarterback Byron Leftwich was going to drop back, look left and throw at whatever receiver Chiefs corner Dexter McCleon was supposed to be covering.
Usually, that receiver was Jimmy Smith.
“This is life on the corner,” McCleon would say. “Life on the island.”
It already had been a rough day on the island. McCleon had watched helplessly as Smith had caught a perfectly thrown 30-yard pass over him. He had been knocked sideways while trying ineffectively to tackle Jacksonville tight end Todd Yoder. He had been among the Chiefs unable to catch Jacksonville running back Fred Taylor, who raced down the sideline on a 64-yard touchdown catch and run. Also, Mrs. Howell was kidnapped by an ape. No, wait, that's a different island.
Yes, for most of the game, whenever the Jaguars wanted something, they went to McCleon Island and pitched an umbrella in the sand. And then, with less than 4 minutes remaining, Dexter McCleon got his sweet revenge. The Jaguars went for it on fourth and 1, deep in their own end, and Leftwich threw to Smith, and this time McCleon knocked down the pass. “I should have intercepted it,” he said.
Whatever — that looked like the play that would win the game.
“Yeah, I thought it was over,” McCleon would say. “I thought, ‘Yes! That's it!' It didn't happen that way.”
No, it didn't. The Chiefs failed to get a first down. They decided not to go for it on fourth and 1. Lawrence Tynes pushed a 42-yard field goal wide. The Jaguars got the ball on their 33.
And the island dance began.
Bam. Leftwich threw a 6-yard pass to Smith. McCleon made the tackle.
Bam. Leftwich threw another 6-yard pass to Smith. McCleon shoved him out of bounds.
Bam. Leftwich threw a 12-yard pass to Smith. This time, McCleon could not even make the tackle.
“We knew what they were going to do,” Chiefs coach Dick Vermeil said. “We knew they were going to try to line up their big receivers against our smaller corners, like Dexter. We knew that.”
Well, maybe the Chiefs knew it. But they could not stop it. A year ago, McCleon was probably the Chiefs' best defender. Quarterbacks kept trying to beat him deep, and he picked off six passes. But cornerbacks age faster than presidents. And at 31, McCleon is not likely to find that missing step in lost and found.
Seconds later, Leftwich threw a 12-yard pass to another receiver, Cortez Hankton. Again, McCleon was in coverage. This time, he also picked up a holding penalty.
“The thing about being a corner is you can have 80 plays, and on 75 of them you can make a great play,” McCleon says. “But all anyone will remember are those five bad plays.”
Well, I did not see McCleon make 75 great plays Sunday. But the point is right: There can't be a lonelier place in sports than on the corner, when you're not quite right and the quarterback is throwing your way play after play after play. As Eric Warfield says, the receiver across the way from you is making a lot more money than you are. He's supposed to be better than you are. He's supposed to make plays over you.
And there's no place to hide.
“It's not easy,” McCleon says. “But that's the job. That's the life.”
On the next play, Leftwich connected with receiver Ernest Wilford, a play that, remarkably, McCleon seemed to have nothing to do with. But then, finally, Leftwich dropped back, lofted a 14-yard pass to Hankton, a touchdown. The defender would say that Hankton did not get his feet down in bounds, but there was no review.
There was no point. The Chiefs' best hope was to get the touchdown over with.
The defender was Dexter McCleon.
And the Chiefs lost the game. McCleon wasn't the sole reason, by any stretch. A kicker missed a field goal and an extra point. The offensive line and quarterback gave up six sacks to a defense that had a total of five sacks all season. The highest-scoring offense in the NFL the last two seasons managed a measly 16 points. Priest Holmes was not in sync. Dante Hall, last year's X-factor, continues to be this year's non-factor. It has been a trying season for everybody.
Still, when it ended, Dexter McCleon took a long time dressing. He stared off into space for a while. He was hurting. He'd had a bad day on the island.
“Yeah, these are tough nights after games like this,” McCleon says. “You stay up all night thinking about what could have been, what you could have done to help your team win. It will be a long night.”
That's about right: a long night to follow a long, long day.
On McCleon Island, there's not much fun in the sun
JOE POSNANSKI
JACKSONVILLE, Fla. — Cornerbacks like to say that they're on an island. Well, on Sunday, Jacksonville receiver Jimmy Smith had himself a little island vacation. Yes, he was drinking piña coladas and sunning on McCleon Island. He might buy a timeshare.
Of course, Jimmy Smith has had quite a few island getaways in his NFL career. He has caught passes for more than 10,000 yards. He has made more than a few cornerbacks look sick. Still, it was hard to watch Sunday. The Chiefs' season, as usual, was on the line. They needed this victory badly. They led with 2 minutes left. The Jaguars had the ball and most of the field to go. And you knew, just knew, that on every single play, Jacksonville quarterback Byron Leftwich was going to drop back, look left and throw at whatever receiver Chiefs corner Dexter McCleon was supposed to be covering.
Usually, that receiver was Jimmy Smith.
“This is life on the corner,” McCleon would say. “Life on the island.”
It already had been a rough day on the island. McCleon had watched helplessly as Smith had caught a perfectly thrown 30-yard pass over him. He had been knocked sideways while trying ineffectively to tackle Jacksonville tight end Todd Yoder. He had been among the Chiefs unable to catch Jacksonville running back Fred Taylor, who raced down the sideline on a 64-yard touchdown catch and run. Also, Mrs. Howell was kidnapped by an ape. No, wait, that's a different island.
Yes, for most of the game, whenever the Jaguars wanted something, they went to McCleon Island and pitched an umbrella in the sand. And then, with less than 4 minutes remaining, Dexter McCleon got his sweet revenge. The Jaguars went for it on fourth and 1, deep in their own end, and Leftwich threw to Smith, and this time McCleon knocked down the pass. “I should have intercepted it,” he said.
Whatever — that looked like the play that would win the game.
“Yeah, I thought it was over,” McCleon would say. “I thought, ‘Yes! That's it!' It didn't happen that way.”
No, it didn't. The Chiefs failed to get a first down. They decided not to go for it on fourth and 1. Lawrence Tynes pushed a 42-yard field goal wide. The Jaguars got the ball on their 33.
And the island dance began.
Bam. Leftwich threw a 6-yard pass to Smith. McCleon made the tackle.
Bam. Leftwich threw another 6-yard pass to Smith. McCleon shoved him out of bounds.
Bam. Leftwich threw a 12-yard pass to Smith. This time, McCleon could not even make the tackle.
“We knew what they were going to do,” Chiefs coach Dick Vermeil said. “We knew they were going to try to line up their big receivers against our smaller corners, like Dexter. We knew that.”
Well, maybe the Chiefs knew it. But they could not stop it. A year ago, McCleon was probably the Chiefs' best defender. Quarterbacks kept trying to beat him deep, and he picked off six passes. But cornerbacks age faster than presidents. And at 31, McCleon is not likely to find that missing step in lost and found.
Seconds later, Leftwich threw a 12-yard pass to another receiver, Cortez Hankton. Again, McCleon was in coverage. This time, he also picked up a holding penalty.
“The thing about being a corner is you can have 80 plays, and on 75 of them you can make a great play,” McCleon says. “But all anyone will remember are those five bad plays.”
Well, I did not see McCleon make 75 great plays Sunday. But the point is right: There can't be a lonelier place in sports than on the corner, when you're not quite right and the quarterback is throwing your way play after play after play. As Eric Warfield says, the receiver across the way from you is making a lot more money than you are. He's supposed to be better than you are. He's supposed to make plays over you.
And there's no place to hide.
“It's not easy,” McCleon says. “But that's the job. That's the life.”
On the next play, Leftwich connected with receiver Ernest Wilford, a play that, remarkably, McCleon seemed to have nothing to do with. But then, finally, Leftwich dropped back, lofted a 14-yard pass to Hankton, a touchdown. The defender would say that Hankton did not get his feet down in bounds, but there was no review.
There was no point. The Chiefs' best hope was to get the touchdown over with.
The defender was Dexter McCleon.
And the Chiefs lost the game. McCleon wasn't the sole reason, by any stretch. A kicker missed a field goal and an extra point. The offensive line and quarterback gave up six sacks to a defense that had a total of five sacks all season. The highest-scoring offense in the NFL the last two seasons managed a measly 16 points. Priest Holmes was not in sync. Dante Hall, last year's X-factor, continues to be this year's non-factor. It has been a trying season for everybody.
Still, when it ended, Dexter McCleon took a long time dressing. He stared off into space for a while. He was hurting. He'd had a bad day on the island.
“Yeah, these are tough nights after games like this,” McCleon says. “You stay up all night thinking about what could have been, what you could have done to help your team win. It will be a long night.”
That's about right: a long night to follow a long, long day.