PatsWin2002
08-14-2006, 10:55 AM
Being 39 I definitely appreciated this commentary.... :strong:
Besides, I had to break up all the Lelie threads. :~ohyah!:
http://profootballweekly.com/PFW/Commentary/Columns/2006/rivers2103.htm
Peaks and valleys
Sustaining athletic prime is a challenge for all players
By Reggie Rivers
Aug. 14, 2006
Do you recall the athletic peak of your life? This would have been before you got old, before you gained weight, before you got married, before you had kids. Back when you were young, fit, skinny and capable of just about anything.
Can you think back to the exact moment that you knew you were as athletically good as you were ever going to be? Maybe your peak came during the middle of your senior year in high school when you were on varsity, and you finally knew how to play your position.
You were as fast, as strong, as quick, as flexible, as healthy and as athletically confident as you were ever going to be. Maybe your peak lasted for a full season. Maybe it was a single game. Maybe it was one brief moment — one play when everything seemed to coalesce and you made an incredible throw, catch, tackle, shot or save. And when you reminisce about your playing days, this is the play that keeps popping up in your mind because this was your moment of brilliant athletic clarity.
Of course, your peak didn’t last. It couldn’t. Eventually something happened. You graduated from high school or college and couldn’t play anymore. Or maybe you got injured, or moved to a new school and ran up against a coach who didn’t like you, or got stuck on the depth chart behind a slightly better player.
You couldn’t live at your peak for years and years — that’s why it’s called a peak, not a plateau.
Can you remember the decline? Can you remember the moment that you realized that you weren’t quite as fit, as quick, as strong, as fast or as good as you had been a day, a week, a month or a season earlier?
My peak came at age 26. All the way through junior high, high school, college and the first couple of years in the NFL, I got gradually better every season. I was one of the best players on my high school team, but I improved in college. I was one of the better players on my college team, and I improved in the NFL.
My third year in the NFL was the most amazing year of my life athletically. I believed that I could block anyone, catch any pass, find any hole or beat any coverage. On kickoff coverage, I felt unblockable, and I led my team in special-teams tackles. That year, my teammates voted me special-teams player of the year, and I thought my peak would last forever.
Of course, it didn’t.
The following year, I started to decline. It wasn’t immediately obvious to the casual observer, but I could see it when I watched myself on film.
The previous year, I’d raced down the field on kickoff coverage, effortlessly shedding blockers to get to the ballcarrier. The following year, I didn’t race with quite the same fluidity, didn’t shed the blockers quite as effortlessly or put my helmet on the ballcarrier as easily. I was still performing well, but I was working a lot harder to do it.
The next year, my performance started to fall off, and two years later, I was out of the league. When I got cut, I was still a very good football player. I just wasn’t good enough for the NFL. I was like a world-class high-jumper who maxed out at 7-foot-5, in a league where 7-foot-6 was the minimum height to qualify.
Peaking is a reality that will have an acute, and very public, impact on every player selected in the first two rounds of the draft. For many of them, we have to believe that their best moment is behind them.
Getting drafted in the first two rounds means that you’re better than virtually every other college player at your position, and it probably means that you’re better than many current NFL players at your position.
To achieve this lofty status, you’ve got to be at, or near, your peak in college. For example, it’s unlikely that Reggie Bush is only an eight on his personal scale from one to 10 and that he’ll improve to a 10 now that he’s in the NFL. To perform the way that he has performed, he’s probably already a 9.8 or a 9.9 in the range of his own ability. He’s at such a high level, it’s impossible for him to get much better than he is right now. The question for Bush and all his talented peers is: How long can they sustain it?
Some of them will hold it for a decade, and some will see their skills decline this year. When one of these first- or second-round picks does slide back to normalcy, we shouldn’t call him a bust. That’s too harsh a label to pin on a guy who’s merely experiencing the same inevitable decline that every one of us has experienced.
Sure, his peak was higher than ours, and his was timed to earn him millions of dollars. But eventually, he’s as human as we are, and his skills will erode just the way ours did.
__________________________________________________ _____
Reggie Rivers played for the Denver Broncos from 1991 to ’96. His Web site is located at http://www.reggierivers.com.
The above content is featured from our Pro Football Weekly print edition — Issue 03 — and has been updated.
Besides, I had to break up all the Lelie threads. :~ohyah!:
http://profootballweekly.com/PFW/Commentary/Columns/2006/rivers2103.htm
Peaks and valleys
Sustaining athletic prime is a challenge for all players
By Reggie Rivers
Aug. 14, 2006
Do you recall the athletic peak of your life? This would have been before you got old, before you gained weight, before you got married, before you had kids. Back when you were young, fit, skinny and capable of just about anything.
Can you think back to the exact moment that you knew you were as athletically good as you were ever going to be? Maybe your peak came during the middle of your senior year in high school when you were on varsity, and you finally knew how to play your position.
You were as fast, as strong, as quick, as flexible, as healthy and as athletically confident as you were ever going to be. Maybe your peak lasted for a full season. Maybe it was a single game. Maybe it was one brief moment — one play when everything seemed to coalesce and you made an incredible throw, catch, tackle, shot or save. And when you reminisce about your playing days, this is the play that keeps popping up in your mind because this was your moment of brilliant athletic clarity.
Of course, your peak didn’t last. It couldn’t. Eventually something happened. You graduated from high school or college and couldn’t play anymore. Or maybe you got injured, or moved to a new school and ran up against a coach who didn’t like you, or got stuck on the depth chart behind a slightly better player.
You couldn’t live at your peak for years and years — that’s why it’s called a peak, not a plateau.
Can you remember the decline? Can you remember the moment that you realized that you weren’t quite as fit, as quick, as strong, as fast or as good as you had been a day, a week, a month or a season earlier?
My peak came at age 26. All the way through junior high, high school, college and the first couple of years in the NFL, I got gradually better every season. I was one of the best players on my high school team, but I improved in college. I was one of the better players on my college team, and I improved in the NFL.
My third year in the NFL was the most amazing year of my life athletically. I believed that I could block anyone, catch any pass, find any hole or beat any coverage. On kickoff coverage, I felt unblockable, and I led my team in special-teams tackles. That year, my teammates voted me special-teams player of the year, and I thought my peak would last forever.
Of course, it didn’t.
The following year, I started to decline. It wasn’t immediately obvious to the casual observer, but I could see it when I watched myself on film.
The previous year, I’d raced down the field on kickoff coverage, effortlessly shedding blockers to get to the ballcarrier. The following year, I didn’t race with quite the same fluidity, didn’t shed the blockers quite as effortlessly or put my helmet on the ballcarrier as easily. I was still performing well, but I was working a lot harder to do it.
The next year, my performance started to fall off, and two years later, I was out of the league. When I got cut, I was still a very good football player. I just wasn’t good enough for the NFL. I was like a world-class high-jumper who maxed out at 7-foot-5, in a league where 7-foot-6 was the minimum height to qualify.
Peaking is a reality that will have an acute, and very public, impact on every player selected in the first two rounds of the draft. For many of them, we have to believe that their best moment is behind them.
Getting drafted in the first two rounds means that you’re better than virtually every other college player at your position, and it probably means that you’re better than many current NFL players at your position.
To achieve this lofty status, you’ve got to be at, or near, your peak in college. For example, it’s unlikely that Reggie Bush is only an eight on his personal scale from one to 10 and that he’ll improve to a 10 now that he’s in the NFL. To perform the way that he has performed, he’s probably already a 9.8 or a 9.9 in the range of his own ability. He’s at such a high level, it’s impossible for him to get much better than he is right now. The question for Bush and all his talented peers is: How long can they sustain it?
Some of them will hold it for a decade, and some will see their skills decline this year. When one of these first- or second-round picks does slide back to normalcy, we shouldn’t call him a bust. That’s too harsh a label to pin on a guy who’s merely experiencing the same inevitable decline that every one of us has experienced.
Sure, his peak was higher than ours, and his was timed to earn him millions of dollars. But eventually, he’s as human as we are, and his skills will erode just the way ours did.
__________________________________________________ _____
Reggie Rivers played for the Denver Broncos from 1991 to ’96. His Web site is located at http://www.reggierivers.com.
The above content is featured from our Pro Football Weekly print edition — Issue 03 — and has been updated.