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Leaf

The David vs. Goliath story, plucky underdog that overcomes all odds to emerge victorious is part of our nation mythos. We like to think of ourselves as farmers and mountain men who defended the British Empire, a self-made country of Davey Crocketts, Abraham Lincolns, Andrew Jacksons, Daniel Boones, who had none of the advantages of wealth and elitist European culture. We conquered the frontier, overcame the Great Depression, saved the world in two wars, and landed a man on the moon. Never mind that the Redcoats made a Vietnam-like decision that the cost of victory was more pricey than staying in the field against people who fought like terrorists, that there were already people living in harmony with nature in this “wilderness,” that the frontier was tamed through the broken backs of slaves and low cost, abused labor that we imported, the last industrialized nation to grudgingly give up owning Africans, that we have more often been the big bully on the block. We are the nation that broke treaties with those who put their trust in us, took land by force from Mexico, have used military force against forces of freedom in Central and South America when they threatened our economic interests, that hung signs that said “Irish need not apply,” economically beat up the poor and impoverished across the world to make a buck, and lost to a bunch of pajama clad peasants in a country that most Americans cannot still find on the map. U-S-A, U-S-A!

Yet, even when the facts differ from our perception of ourselves, we still like to see ourselves as a mutt in a pure breed world. During the Great Depression, Americans saw themselves in an undersized horse named Seabiscuit, an overweight hitter named Babe Ruth, a broken down fighter named James J. Braddock, and aviator Charles Lindbergh. Ethic groups identified with fellow immigrants and sons of immigrants like Rocky Marciano, Joe Louis, Rocky Graziano, Jack Dempsey, Willy Pep, and Max Schmelling. If they could make it, be champions, then some kid who looked like them could too. It is little wonder that the underdog sports film is so popular. Hence, when Ronald Reagan asked Knute Rockne to “Win one for the Gipper” it stirred something deep within the American soul. There is a reason why historians seriously talk about how the film “Rocky” helped overcome our 1970s malaise. (It is why I am 100 percent certain that at some point there will be a Kurt Warner biopic. Hy-Vee stock boy to NFL MVP, complete with handicapped child, it just screams box office gold.)

These films make us feel good, but for every underdog that makes good, there is a top dog who does a face plant. I truly believe that the more interesting story is always in the losing locker room. I do not know if you want to pay to see a glossy Tinseltown epic involving these stories, but they are always more interesting and informative of the human condition. The bigger the bust is often the better the story. Arrogant linebacker Brian Bosworth becomes a doormat for running back Bo Jackson to run over. The superhuman Georgetown basketball team leaves the court with their heads hanging after Villanova schooled them. The self-destruction of baseball players Darryl Strawberry, Billy Martin, and Steve Howe is legend. The Ali phantom punch takes down Sonny Liston. Legendary 65-year-old Ohio State coach, Woody Hayes, slugs a Clemson linebacker in the Gator Bowl in a fit of rage. The suicide of relief pitcher Donnie Moore haunts us. Gimp-kneed Boston Red Sox Bill Buckner booting a routine ground ball and a World Series in one move. Hall of Fame wide receiver Jackie Smith dropping the game winning catch for Dallas in Super Bowl XIII. Bartman, as a Chicago Cubs fan, that is all I need to say. The Black Sox, say it ain’t so, Joe.

But what player is the biggest bust in sport’s history? The steroid-ridden Hulk-like offensive lineman Tony Mandarich who was featured on the cover of Sports Illustrated and was drafted with the 2^nd pick in the 1989 draft by the Green Bay Packers, with the likes of Barry Sanders, Deion Sanders, Andre Rison, and Derrick Thomas still on the board, and was to anchor their line for years to come. The former Outland Trophy winner was colorful with his three seasons in cheese-land with his Guns N’ Roses tattoo, public drunkenness which often caused him to miss scheduled public appearances, and challenging Mike Tyson to a fist fight, but he never did anything on the field. It would not be until Mandarich had left that the real savior of the franchise, a quarterback whose former coach had so little faith in him that only way he would get into an NFL game was if there was “a plane crash,” Bret Favre, came to town. Some might claim that Favre’s replacement in Atlanta, Jeff George, the 1^st pick in the 1990 draft, a quarterback with a cannon-like arm and 50 cent head who had the amazing ability to get fans to turn against him in 7 NFL franchise cities.

The New York Yankees have had more than their fair share of candidates who could claim that title including 5 tool prospect Ruben Rivera whose time in the Big Apple ended when his own teammates voted him off the team after he stole Derek Jeter’s glove and bat, Japanese pitching phenomenon Hideki Irabu who the owner called a “fat pussy toad,” or pitching prospect Brien Taylor who tore his labrum in a bar fight. Maybe “Iron Mike” Tyson who was supposed to save boxing but turned it into a sideshow or David Beckham who was going to have every American boy bending a soccer ball and marrying has-been Euro-trash, but as of last check, soccer is still the sport of over-protective mothers and kids with almost no athletic talent in this nation. Perhaps Sam Bowie, the man who will only be remembered for being taken by the Portland Trail Blazers ahead of some guy named Michael Jordan. A potential hall of shame would not be complete without troubled running back Lawrence Phillips, Todd Van Poppel, Tim Couch, Todd Marinovich, Steve Chilcott, Stephon Marbury, and David Clyde, but it would be hard to argue that quarterback Ryan Leaf does not deserve the top spot. Selected with the 2^nd pick in the 1998 draft after Peyton Manning by the San Diego Chargers who gave up two 1^st round draft picks, a 2^nd round pick, a three-time Pro Bowler, and a reserve linebacker to get him.

The 6’5, 240 pound Leaf was given a $31.25 million contract and a $11.25 million signing bonus and proclaimed that he planned on having a 15 year career, a couple of Super Bowl rings, and a parade through downtown San Diego before he was done. Fined for skipping a symposium before the season ever began, the quarterback was awful on the field and even worse in the locker room where he quickly alienated teammates and the media. Not a good thing for the “face of a franchise.” With several potential fist fights narrowly avoided, there seemed to be no way that he could do worse in his second season, but he did. He spent the entire next year on the disabled list and got in a shouting match with his boss, general manager Bobby Beathard and one of the assistant coaches. He then skipped a practice, claiming a hand injury, and was discovered playing golf. Suspended for four games and supposedly nursing a shoulder and wrist injury, he was found playing flag football on a nearby California beach. The team claimed Leaf’s conduct was a breach of contract and filed a grievance to get back some of hi signing bonus. Yet, the quarterback was able to survive through the 2000 season before being cut. For $42.5 million dollars, Leaf had just 4 wins in three years to show for the Chargers faith in him. From there he bounced around the league as a backup for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, Dallas Cowboys, and Seattle Seahawks who were all willing to give him a chance because of his talent. All quickly got rid of him. At 26, the quarterback of the future’s career was through.

The former quarterback has become so associated with failure, that sportswriters and ESPN speculate every year on who will be the “next Ryan Leaf.” But Americans want a happy ending, even for someone like Leaf, and writer/director Tim Carr thought he had it. In 2006, it appeared that Leaf had gained a bit of redemption, surfacing as the quarterback’s coach at little West Texas A&M and a year later was named as their golf coach. The media swept down on the Texas town to tell “this bad boy turned good” story and Carr knew a feel good story when he heard it. One little problem, reality does not fit in the nice little boxes we like to put it in. In November of last year, Leaf was suspended and later resigned from his coaching position when he asked one of his players for a pain pill.

Verdict: A Sad Documentary