Hel'n
09-27-2004, 10:15 AM
JOE POSNANSKI
http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/9768794.htm
Priest Holmes saw that man Marcus Coleman running away from everyone, running to the goal line, and instinct took over. Holmes was at least 10 yards behind, maybe 20, but that did not matter. He had one thing on his mind. He had to catch Marcus Coleman.
In a way, this play represented everything. This play was Priest Holmes' season, his values, his astounding and yet ultimately dissatisfying career in Kansas City. This play said it all. Priest Holmes saw Coleman, a Houston Texans defensive back, intercept Trent Green's pass in the Texans' end zone and take off for the Chiefs' end zone. Coleman was moving too fast. Green could not catch him. The receivers could not catch him.
Everyone had given up on the play.
Everyone, that is, except Priest Holmes.
He was, as always, trying to save the Chiefs' season.
How many times have we written this story? But yet, what other story is there? Barely 5 minutes earlier, Priest Holmes set the Chiefs' all-time rushing record. That was a nice moment. He passed Christian Okoye. It had taken Holmes 30 fewer games.
There was a message on the scoreboard. The crowd stood and applauded. The referee stopped the game and tossed the football to the sideline for safekeeping. Priest Holmes has never had any problem at all rolling up numbers in Kansas City. His first year with the Chiefs, he led the NFL in rushing. His second, he led the NFL in total yards — and if he had not been hurt the final 2½ games, he might have had the greatest season in NFL history. He was on that kind of pace.
Last year, of course, he scored more touchdowns in a season than anyone ever.
None of these things satisfied him, though. Holmes has wanted to take a team to the Super Bowl. His team. He has always believed that's the best way to measure a running back. That's why Holmes valued things other than numbers. He does not fumble. He catches the ball. He blocks blitzing linebackers. He credits his linemen.
He chases after defensive backs long after everyone else has given up hope.
Sunday, he chased Coleman. He did not want this season to die. Holmes knew: If the Chiefs lost this game, they would be 0-3. That means a dead season. Since 1978, the year that the NFL expanded the season to 16 games, there have been 278 playoff teams. Four — count 'em, four — started 0-3. You don't dig yourself out of huge holes in the NFL. The season's too short. Teams are too closely matched. An 0-3 team is more or less doomed.
That's why Holmes had played in the first place. Last Sunday, after the Chiefs lost to Carolina, he felt OK.
“I'm hurting a little,” he said. “But nothing that time can't heal.”
By midnight, though, he could not walk. His ankle had swollen. On Monday, he was on crutches. The Chiefs thought he was out. Privately, though, Holmes made a different decision. He would play on Sunday.
“I didn't want to miss out,” he would say.
But it's something more than that. A running back, perhaps more than any other athlete in sports, can hear that clock ticking. The average NFL running back has a career span of 2.5 years. You have to be a fatalist to play this game. You have to know that at any moment, your knee might twist wrong, your hip might pop out of place, your toe could bend back, and then there's the chance that your will might give out, you might not get to the hole fast enough, your offensive line might disintegrate. A million things can go bad.
No one knows this better than Holmes.
“My feeling is, I'll be out there unless I can't walk,” he says.
Last week, he did not practice Wednesday or Thursday; he practiced lightly on Friday. But on Saturday he had that look.
“I could see it in his eyes,” his fullback and friend Tony Richardson said. “I knew that Priest was going to give his all.”
In the end, Priest Holmes carried the ball 32 times, the most carries he has ever had as a Chiefs player. He ran for 134 painful yards through a defense that seemed to have only one goal — stop Priest Holmes. They stacked the line, sent waves of linebackers and safeties into the gaps. They stopped Holmes on fourth down once and at the goal line another time, two critical plays. Other times, though, Holmes willed the Chiefs' offense down the field. It's impossible to believe that his ankle was not killing him.
But the play that mattered most was the interception. The Chiefs were leading 14-6. They seemed about ready to put the game away. Green stepped back and made a poor throw. Tony Gonzalez, the target, was out of position. Coleman intercepted. And he ran.
Holmes chased Coleman. And chased. And chased. When Coleman was at the 40, Holmes was still a good 10 yards back. At the 20, he was only 5 yards behind. He kept running. He saw the ball. Holmes had one thing in mind: He would strip the ball from Coleman as countless linebackers had tried to do to him.
Look at it. Could you imagine Randy Moss chasing a defensive back for 100 yards? Clinton Portis? Michael Vick? Edgerrin James? No, this man is a different breed. He's from another time. And, any way you look at it, the Chiefs have squandered him. In Holmes' time, the Chiefs have not won one playoff game. The defense has been shaky. The offense has never found a real deep threat. They have, for numerous reasons, never taken the championship step.
Sunday, Holmes did catch Coleman. It was amazing. He reached out and smacked the ball. He seemed to dislodge it — but only for a second. Coleman held on. He tumbled into the end zone. Touchdown. Houston would win the game. The Chiefs would be 0-3.
Another Priest Holmes season squandered.
After the game, reporters would ask Priest Holmes how it felt to be the Chiefs' all-time leading rusher. He answered as best he could. Holmes said he was proud of the record but devastated by the loss. That's the story of his time in Kansas City. Proud but devastated. It's not the legacy Holmes has wanted. But there's only so much one man can do.
To reach Joe Posnanski, columnist for The Star, call (816) 234-4361 or e-mail jposnanski@kcstar.com.
He's No. 1
On a 7-yard carry in the third quarter Sunday, Priest Holmes became the Chiefs' career leading rusher. The top five:
Player Yards Career
Priest Holmes 4,941 2001-pres.
Christian Okoye 4,897 1987-92
Ed Podolak 4,451 1969-77
Abner Haynes 3,837 1960-64
Marcus Allen 3,698 1993-97
http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/9768794.htm
Priest Holmes saw that man Marcus Coleman running away from everyone, running to the goal line, and instinct took over. Holmes was at least 10 yards behind, maybe 20, but that did not matter. He had one thing on his mind. He had to catch Marcus Coleman.
In a way, this play represented everything. This play was Priest Holmes' season, his values, his astounding and yet ultimately dissatisfying career in Kansas City. This play said it all. Priest Holmes saw Coleman, a Houston Texans defensive back, intercept Trent Green's pass in the Texans' end zone and take off for the Chiefs' end zone. Coleman was moving too fast. Green could not catch him. The receivers could not catch him.
Everyone had given up on the play.
Everyone, that is, except Priest Holmes.
He was, as always, trying to save the Chiefs' season.
How many times have we written this story? But yet, what other story is there? Barely 5 minutes earlier, Priest Holmes set the Chiefs' all-time rushing record. That was a nice moment. He passed Christian Okoye. It had taken Holmes 30 fewer games.
There was a message on the scoreboard. The crowd stood and applauded. The referee stopped the game and tossed the football to the sideline for safekeeping. Priest Holmes has never had any problem at all rolling up numbers in Kansas City. His first year with the Chiefs, he led the NFL in rushing. His second, he led the NFL in total yards — and if he had not been hurt the final 2½ games, he might have had the greatest season in NFL history. He was on that kind of pace.
Last year, of course, he scored more touchdowns in a season than anyone ever.
None of these things satisfied him, though. Holmes has wanted to take a team to the Super Bowl. His team. He has always believed that's the best way to measure a running back. That's why Holmes valued things other than numbers. He does not fumble. He catches the ball. He blocks blitzing linebackers. He credits his linemen.
He chases after defensive backs long after everyone else has given up hope.
Sunday, he chased Coleman. He did not want this season to die. Holmes knew: If the Chiefs lost this game, they would be 0-3. That means a dead season. Since 1978, the year that the NFL expanded the season to 16 games, there have been 278 playoff teams. Four — count 'em, four — started 0-3. You don't dig yourself out of huge holes in the NFL. The season's too short. Teams are too closely matched. An 0-3 team is more or less doomed.
That's why Holmes had played in the first place. Last Sunday, after the Chiefs lost to Carolina, he felt OK.
“I'm hurting a little,” he said. “But nothing that time can't heal.”
By midnight, though, he could not walk. His ankle had swollen. On Monday, he was on crutches. The Chiefs thought he was out. Privately, though, Holmes made a different decision. He would play on Sunday.
“I didn't want to miss out,” he would say.
But it's something more than that. A running back, perhaps more than any other athlete in sports, can hear that clock ticking. The average NFL running back has a career span of 2.5 years. You have to be a fatalist to play this game. You have to know that at any moment, your knee might twist wrong, your hip might pop out of place, your toe could bend back, and then there's the chance that your will might give out, you might not get to the hole fast enough, your offensive line might disintegrate. A million things can go bad.
No one knows this better than Holmes.
“My feeling is, I'll be out there unless I can't walk,” he says.
Last week, he did not practice Wednesday or Thursday; he practiced lightly on Friday. But on Saturday he had that look.
“I could see it in his eyes,” his fullback and friend Tony Richardson said. “I knew that Priest was going to give his all.”
In the end, Priest Holmes carried the ball 32 times, the most carries he has ever had as a Chiefs player. He ran for 134 painful yards through a defense that seemed to have only one goal — stop Priest Holmes. They stacked the line, sent waves of linebackers and safeties into the gaps. They stopped Holmes on fourth down once and at the goal line another time, two critical plays. Other times, though, Holmes willed the Chiefs' offense down the field. It's impossible to believe that his ankle was not killing him.
But the play that mattered most was the interception. The Chiefs were leading 14-6. They seemed about ready to put the game away. Green stepped back and made a poor throw. Tony Gonzalez, the target, was out of position. Coleman intercepted. And he ran.
Holmes chased Coleman. And chased. And chased. When Coleman was at the 40, Holmes was still a good 10 yards back. At the 20, he was only 5 yards behind. He kept running. He saw the ball. Holmes had one thing in mind: He would strip the ball from Coleman as countless linebackers had tried to do to him.
Look at it. Could you imagine Randy Moss chasing a defensive back for 100 yards? Clinton Portis? Michael Vick? Edgerrin James? No, this man is a different breed. He's from another time. And, any way you look at it, the Chiefs have squandered him. In Holmes' time, the Chiefs have not won one playoff game. The defense has been shaky. The offense has never found a real deep threat. They have, for numerous reasons, never taken the championship step.
Sunday, Holmes did catch Coleman. It was amazing. He reached out and smacked the ball. He seemed to dislodge it — but only for a second. Coleman held on. He tumbled into the end zone. Touchdown. Houston would win the game. The Chiefs would be 0-3.
Another Priest Holmes season squandered.
After the game, reporters would ask Priest Holmes how it felt to be the Chiefs' all-time leading rusher. He answered as best he could. Holmes said he was proud of the record but devastated by the loss. That's the story of his time in Kansas City. Proud but devastated. It's not the legacy Holmes has wanted. But there's only so much one man can do.
To reach Joe Posnanski, columnist for The Star, call (816) 234-4361 or e-mail jposnanski@kcstar.com.
He's No. 1
On a 7-yard carry in the third quarter Sunday, Priest Holmes became the Chiefs' career leading rusher. The top five:
Player Yards Career
Priest Holmes 4,941 2001-pres.
Christian Okoye 4,897 1987-92
Ed Podolak 4,451 1969-77
Abner Haynes 3,837 1960-64
Marcus Allen 3,698 1993-97