Tracking The Really Big Game

By Tony Kornheiser

Sunday, January 25, 1998; Page D01 

SAN DIEGO—Right here. In the lobby of my hotel, where rolling beer
carts are crammed into every square inch of available floor space, where
hundreds of people are parading back and forth in their Super Bowl finery
like teenagers cruising up and down the main drag. Right here, in the
carpeted lobby, where every huddled conversation is about selling or
buying tickets. Right here, where everyone is brandishing a cell phone like
a badge, and trying desperately to look more important than they really
are. Right here may be the only place in the country where anybody is
focused on this Super Bowl. Right here may be the only place where
people are still concentrating on Brett Favre's formidable arm and Mike
Shanahan's frightening stare.

Here it's Bill Romanowski.

Every place else it's Monica Lewinsky.

(No, not Tara Lipinski -- she's on thin ice in a couple of weeks.)

Actually, the, ahem, affairs of state have reached here. Even Shanahan,
who is wound so tight that there is always the chance that if you brush up
against him he will uncoil like a spring, admitted he managed to tune into
CNN for a peek into the mushrooming presidential scandal. He probably
didn't stay long, though -- you know how coaches are about "distractions."

The Real World has intruded into this Super Bowl the way it did during the
Iran hostage crisis and the Gulf War -- much to the chagrin of the NFL,
I'm sure, which would rather have everybody concentrate on the size of
John Elway's teeth and the end of the cone of silence from Denver's
Orange Hush.

I have no idea what the players are saying about what may or may not
have happened in the White House. But I was heartened to know that it
was at least a topic for discussion. Tommy Jackson, who used to play for
Denver and is now a commentator for ESPN, said he was certain the
players would find the gossip irresistible, even though the coaches would
rather they confined their chats to the game plan. "I know when I was
playing I would always bring up current events in the locker room,"
Jackson said. "The public has this view of football players as blocking
everything out but the game -- but I wouldn't want to play on the same
team as anybody who didn't care about this."

Admittedly, the scandal was a little late in reaching us out here. I might not
have known about it at all if not for a phone call I got from Washington on
Wednesday urging me to turn on CNN. Prior to that I was in my typical
Super Bowl hotel cable TV mode -- which means the only channels I
watch all week are ESPN I, II, III, IV, VIII and MCMXI. And of course
the Great Super Bowls of The Past Channel, the NFL History Channel
and the Former NFL Players Now Doing Infomercials Channel.

And believe me, I'm not alone in my tunnel vision. Here is, verbatim, the
conversation I had on Wednesday night with my dear friend and colleague
(you guess who I'm talking about; hint: My kind of town, Chicago is . . .)
as we were about to go to dinner:

Me: What do you think about the president?

Him: What do you think about the Damon Stoudamire trade blowing up?

Me: Forget that. What about Clinton?

Him: What happened with Clinton? Is he going to be traded for
Stoudamire?

Me: Haven't you been watching TV?

Him: ESPN, baby. Me and every other sportswriter in this hotel.

By Thursday, though, all of us were up to speed. And the speed is
dizzying.

Usually, when I go away from Washington some coach gets fired. It was
bad enough to be 3,000 miles away from the Chris "Can I Put You On
Hold, I'm Being Arrested" Webber story. (My friend Kevin says that
Webber is forming a new rap group, Salt N Peppa Spray.) But the last
thing I expected was to turn on the TV Wednesday and see Wolf Blitzer
saying the word, "impeachment," when I expected to see Mike Holmgren
saying "encroachment."

From that point on, my life became a steady diet of Kenneth Starr instead
of Bart Starr, and Mike McCurry instead of Ed McCaffrey. (I had Dan
Quayle on the radio on Friday, and I was tempted to ask him how to spell
"subpoena.")

Again, I'm 3,000 miles away from the action -- is that the right word? --
but I can say this with certainty: As long as we've got a president trying to
find the narrowest possible definition of what constitutes a sexual
relationship, he can count on the professional athlete vote. He's their hero.
(By the way, how many women is Kenneth Starr going to be allowed to
bring in to testify about their relationship with Bill Clinton? Do I have to
fear for my friend Nancy back home?)

What is going on with secret tapes in this country? Gennifer Flowers tapes
Bill Clinton. Linda Tripp tapes Monica Lewinsky. Frank Gifford gets
caught on tape with some floozy. Why am I buying IBM stock? Shouldn't I
be buying stock in TDK?

The most laughable thing I heard was the suggestion that perhaps the
Super Bowl should be postponed in light of the uncertainty about the
presidency. Ha! The NFL played through the hostages and the Gulf War.
They're not stopping for another bimbo eruption. If they did, they'd have
had to stop this game every year since 1992.

The frenzy over this has swamped the usual frenzy over the Super Bowl.
All the TV stations are going with news rather than their usual hour-long
specials on the coin toss. The other day, HBO's "Inside The NFL" did a
segment on Vernon Jordan, complete with his height, weight and time in
the 40. The NFL is trying desperately to turn the publicity machine away
from the White House, and back to Gilbert Brown's daily caloric intake.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. I hear Paul Tagliabue might
authorize the release of photographs of all NFL interns.

Being a veteran sportswriter, I would normally be using this space to pose
relevant questions about the game. Will Terrell Davis be able to run against
the Packers? Will Brett Favre throw a pass so hard it cracks Antonio
Freeman's ribs? Does Reggie White's mom put on that cheerleader's
get-up often? But those serious football questions have been
overshadowed by a more political sort: Is Bill Clinton lying? Is Monica
Lewinsky going to get immunity? Who straightened Linda Tripp's hair?

There are two games in town.

The one with four 15-minute quarters is going to be over Sunday night.

The other one doesn't have a game clock. Pull up a chair. Sit down. We're
all going to be here a while. 

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