Sooner boomed too soon

This past Saturday fans and foes said goodbye to one of the greatest running backs in college football history.

Adrian Peterson, the sensational junior running back for Oklahoma, was all over the national news this week and for all the right reasons. Adrian had never been able to play a competitive game, either in high school or college, in front of his father who was only recently released from prison. And, in a tragic twist of irony, dad's first game was his son's last. Peterson broke his collarbone after diving into the endzone for his second touchdown of the day against Iowa State.

Peterson had been running roughshod over the Cyclones defense all day long, putting the Sooners in front 34-9. But his day, his season, and his career at Oklahoma ended in the fourth quarter of an anti-clicmatic conference game.

No Heisman. No national title.

This caps off a forgettable football season for the Sooners who, without a doubt, had one of the hardest luck campaigns in recent memory.

Peterson, in spite of his team's shortcomings and his latest injury, is the best college football player I have ever had the pleasure to watch. He possesses a truly unique blend of speed and power that will make him millions in the NFL--where he will undoubtedly be playing next year.

Find me a college football player at any position who was the best at his position every single season he laced-up his cleats. There are only a scant few. Peterson finished second in the Heisman voting as a freshman, and was well on his way to winning it outright this year.

In short, college football lost the kind of player that is all but impossible to replace.

The only consolation for Sooners fans is this: AD left Oklahoma from roughly the same placed he started--in the endzone.

Bless you boys, redux...

What has gotten into my beloved Tigers? All of the sudden the 'D' is alive again; and, who would have ever thought that the breath of life would have come from the nostrils of the Motor City Kitties?

Certainly not me.

Tonight, in front of a capacity crowd at the COPA, the Tigers defeated the evil empire in convincing fashion, 8-3, to win the five game American League Divisional Series series in four. Not since the days of Kirk Gibson and Jack Morris has this organization so captivated a city.

I remember as a kid having an old poster of the Detroit Free Press with an exuberant Kirk Gibson, arms raised, under the headline: Bless You Boys. Well, the boys are back in town; only this time, you've never heard of them.

The Tigers' roster reads like a B-movie filmography. Who? From where? What?

Players like Marcus Thames, Curtis Granderson and Craig Monroe all came from relative obscurity only to find themselves starring on what now must be considered America's team--this is the moniker given to the latest team to beat the hated New York Yankees.

No one, including me, believed the Tigers had a chance of beating the Yankees in a five game series and we were dead wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, money truly cannot buy championships. With that in mind, I may have to find another reason to hate the Yankees. (Oh wait, they have a 200 million dollar payroll, more than twice that of the hometown boys. That should hold me over.)

The Tigers advance to the American League Championship Series where they will face the hard-charging Oakland A's who most recently swept the Minnesota Twins in their divisional series.

I won't bet against the Tigers again, I promise.

See you at the Series.