Detroit Free Press

Chuck Daly stood at center court, the applause wild, the spotlight caressing him. He held the microphone. He grinned. For a minute I thought he would break into a snappy rendition of "Mack The Knife." Ah-one, ah-two, ah-three . . . Show biz.

EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. -- You can take all your game plans, all your playbooks, all your film and your chalk and your clipboards -- and toss them in a garbage can. Pour on some lighter fluid, throw in a match, and let a couple of bums down in the Bowery have a warm night for a change.Might as well, if you're the New York Jets and you're going to get knocked out of the playoffs by a what's-his-name who picks up a ball that everyone thinks is dead and runs it in for a touchdown. Hey, why bother with all the paperwork, right?

Those of us who predict the NFL are very superstitious. The slightest little thing can upset our whole routine. And what does this newspaper do?They move us from Sunday to Saturday.In the middle of the season!I'm sorry. I can no longer be held responsible for my picks. If I get every game wrong, you can blame my boss, and I will be happy to provide you with his home phone number. On the other hand, if I get them all right . . .Thank you very much.And now this week's picks . . .

BASEBALL CITY, Fla. -- On the one hand, we have Joker Marchant Stadium in Lakeland, where the paint is peeling. On the other hand, we have Baseball City, where the roller coaster can be seen between pitches."We've got artificial turf, network lighting and six fields, all of major league configuration," says the guide walking me through this new baseball wonderland. "Plus we have the log flume.""The log flume?" I say.

You have been waiting for him. I have been waiting for him. It has become the thing to do here in Detroit, waiting for him."When, Chuck, when?" we ask."Soon, folks, soon," we are told. His teammates have been waiting for him. His coaches have been waiting for him. All season long, they have watched him with anticpation."When, Chuck, when?' they ask."Soon, men, soon," they are told.

Listen, I have this idea. Let's call Minnesota and Cleveland and Kansas City and the rest of those teams and say, guys, hey, sorry, can't make it, maybe next year. And then the Tigers and Yankees can play each other the rest of the season.Every night. Tigers-Yankees. Don't you agree? Don't you? Wasn't Thursday night the way baseball is supposed to be? Huge crowd, lines at the bathrooms, bleacher fans engaged in "TASTE GREAT!" vs. "LESS FILLING!" debates.

Let me get this straight. Jerry Ball is complaining about his salary. Again. After he renegotiated a few months ago.And let me get this straight. Bennie Blades, who does more fist-waving than intercepting, and Lomas Brown, who is a member of Detroit's internationally famous offensive line, figure, hey, if Jerry can do it, we can, too. So they're complaining about their salaries and talking about renegotiating.

I was ready to take Jerry Holmes apart. And I wouldn't be the first. All day long, he had been flat-out humiliated by the Chicago Bears, whacked, smacked and stacked. They threw long on him so often, he needed his own ZIP code. Watching him chase the receivers was like watching an elephant chase the Concorde.Up it goes, down it comes, touchdown. Up it goes, down it comes, touchdown. It was a simply awful display of defensive football that snuffed out, believe it or not, an exciting Detroit offense, and brought the Lions to their knees for the third straight time this season.