Arrow-right Camera
The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Woodson A Gimmick Candidate

Bernie Lincicome Chicago Tribun

The swell of support for Michigan’s Charles Woodson for the Heisman Trophy is astonishing.

Not since Steve McNair has there been anything like it. Or maybe not since Gordie Lockbaum, who not only played both ways for Holy Cross, but actually finished third with as much anti-Heisman vote as there may be.

The arguments for Woodson, a big-time, big-name, big-school player, are the same as they were for McNair and Lockbaum, small-school, small-time, small-name players: The Heisman should go to a gimmick.

The Heisman is the most celebrated and debated trophy in sports, and often it is given to the wrong person, not that Gino Toretta or Desmond Howard will be giving theirs back.

The Heisman is the only award that has its own thermometer. Peyton Manning is up. Peyton Manning is down. Ryan Leaf is rising. Tavian Banks is falling.

The NFL has no comparable prize. What would it be, Man of the Year? The Jim Thorpe Trophy? The Bert Bell Award? Just who is the front-runner for the Bell this year?

The NBA has the occasional argument about its MVP (the Podoloff Trophy), which ought to be changed to MVPOTMOC, Most Valuable Player Other Than Michael, Of Course.

However, I have yet to see anyone, after the winning shot, even Charles Barkley, strike an MVP pose. Does anyone know what the pose looks like?

Only the Heisman can, by just the mention of its name, divide or unite or infuriate complete strangers, not so unlike Dennis Rodman in that regard.

Halfway through my column on the Michigan-Ohio State game, I am tapped on the shoulder. One of the rules, respected in press boxes everywhere, is no interruptions on deadline, for any reason, pizza, beer and kudos excluded. Michigan curiosity breaks the rule.

“Who has your Heisman vote?” is the question asked. “Are you voting for Woodson?” is the question unasked.

My response, absently, between paragraphs, was, “The quarterback.” Maybe he thought he heard “cornerback” and will include me on his pro-Woodson list. Or maybe assume some quarterback other than Manning. I understand there is one at Washington State. I didn’t care to be more clear.

The next day, at the Chicago Bears game, I find myself arguing against Woodson, someone I had not given a great deal of thought to for the Heisman. Woodson does not play a Heisman position, except maybe once or twice a game.

Woodson has to make maybe three big plays for his team, as he did against Ohio State. Not subtracted from this total is the touchdown pass he gave up, nor the other one he would have given up had the pass not been 10 yards over David Boston’s head, nor the two passes Boston dropped outright, though Woodson’s presence may have had something to do with that.

Why do running backs or quarterbacks always win the Heisman? Because they play the most essential positions, snap after snap of the ball. They have the greatest influence on a game, have the most demanded of them and have entire defensive game plans designed to stop them.

Randy Moss of Marshall can catch 83 passes for a record-tying 22 touchdowns, and not one of them is worth as much as Woodson’s single catch against Ohio State or his touchdown catch against Penn State.

Woodson is a contrivance, a very, very good one, but he is not the best player in college football. He gets noticed because he does something other than his job. He catches a pass, returns a kick, once a game, once a month. Woodson has touched the ball 15 times on offense all year.

If Woodson is not a good enough cornerback to be voted for the Heisman - and the way all of us watch football will have to change to make that true - then he should not get the Heisman for being an incidental offensive tactic.

It’s Manning for me, and it should be for the Bears if they have to face the same choice on draft day.

The following fields overflowed: CREDIT = Bernie Lincicome Chicago Tribune