Courtesy of: http://pspgamesandmedia.blogspot.com/

This is merely a drop in the ocean but, after careful deliberation, I’ve decided to delay my purchase of Sony’s new PS Vita. Yes, that feeling is the earth rumbling beneath your feet following this thunderous declaration.

But, to be clear, “delay” means that I intend to wait until the device and its software are fully recognized and established as a worthy investment. I will jump on the bandwagon after it gains a substantial amount of steam, and pretend I was always there.

Now, I’m fully aware of and enticed by the PS Vita’s specs and alleged handheld-gaming innovations. It’s also ranking very high in my sleek and sexy category. So high, in fact, that I’m looking forward to “Saturday Night Live” using the Vita to make technology hump. But I’m still hesitant. Long-time consumers know that this wouldn’t be the first time Sony’s impressed with a tech sheet for an underwhelming final product.

The PlayStation 3 disappointed for approximately two years after its release (and an absurd launch price), and the original PlayStation Portable blazed the trail before it.

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It’s been nearly seven years since Sony released their first PSP and I still tell war stories while pointing to my wallet’s scars from that fateful, hefty, and impulsive purchase. Sony promised a quality gaming experience in 2005 with their PSP, but left me with only a learning experience.

The most basic PS Vita is launching at the same $249 that Sony slapped on the original PSP years ago. But if you were among the early-adopting suckers buyers, then you probably remember how quickly your $249 investment escalated. For me, two new games at $40 a piece and a 1GB Pro Duo Memory Stick, priced at an absurd $129, vacuumed approximately $500 from my wallet in one afternoon.

Funny enough, a 1GB Pro Duo stick is about $5 now on Amazon. The value on technological memory might depreciate quickly and lose its value, but my human memory does not. It’s ripe, baby!

That original PSP is now an ancient paperweight. “Slim” PSP models with new colors and themes for anticipated titles, like God of War and Star Wars versions, kept hitting the market — making my original PSP look like a clunky, impossible-to-carry Zack Morris-esque cell phone.

After a little more than a year with the fat boy, I traded the PSP into Gamestop with a few games for a significant loss. I don’t remember the exact total credited to me, but I’m pretty sure it barely covered the cost of two new console games. That broke my heart.

My decision to part with the PSP happened because I wasn’t actually playing games on the damn thing. The library was dreadful and anyone arguing to the contrary is a liar. God of War wasn’t a thing yet, we were all making due with the Grand Theft Auto titles, and people weren’t pretending to really love Patapon yet, either. It was really just low-quality Madden games for me.

Ultimately, the PSP became an mp3 and video player until I accepted the iPod as a more efficient alternative. Plus, no more need to donate blood for a bigger Pro Duo chip with Apple.

In the end, that was $500 down the drain in a little more than a year.

*****

Then the PSP Go came along, slimmer and fancier with a slightly larger slide-up screen. I was drinking Sony’s Kool-Aid and, about two years ago, convinced the lady in my life to secure a Go for me. She loves me lots.

It was the smaller build and digital-download marketplace that lured me in, because I hated the clunky UMDs. Also, I’m convinced all media will go by way of the digital download in my lifetime so I felt like I was investing in the future. Sadly, the PSP Go was a colossal failure.

And that’s for a lot of reasons, actually. Here are the most significant to me:

• Launch Price: My lady didn’t pay $250, but with slim PSPs going for $200 in bundles, the initial price tag bordered ridiculous and insane. Especially when considering the need to rebuild one’s gaming library with digital copies.
• Missing Titles: Many great games on UMD weren’t readily available in the PlayStation store, continuing Sony’s trend of releasing new products that consumers can’t fully enjoy out of the box.
• Expensive Titles: If the $39.99 price point was defined for shipping costs, packaging, and printing, then why keep it the same for digital downloads? I received no physical manual or hard plastic case with my download. Prices needed slashing.
• VOLUME: This has actually been a PSP issue since before the Go model. The headphone audio quality is a whisper.
• Illogical PSP Go Cradle: The cradle was supposed to let me charge the PSP while I watched movies at my old job, but an illogical design disallowed me from plugging my headphones into the device while it charged. Which leads me to my next point…
• PSP Go Bluetooth Remote: I ordered this Bluetooth remote to hear my movies and now Play-Asia won’t leave me the fuck alone. Their newsletter’s unsubscribe link doesn’t work and they keep breaking through my Spam filter. This is Sony’s fault.

I still use it, though. My lady really enjoys Michael Jackson: The Experience. I think it needed Dirty Diana.

*****

With all that said, and my conscious efforts to be an educated consumer (and responsible adult, too, I guess), I’m still pretty damn stupid. Advertisements are made for people like me because I’m impressionable, impulsive, and frivolous.

Despite my experiences with Sony’s handheld shortcomings, all I need to see is something kinda cool and unique on the new PS Vita — beyond the advertised intents for usage — and I’ll be all in before I reasonably should. Just like my friend Shadow lured me into the PSP with talk of emulators and remote PS3 capabilities, the PS Vita will probably have an easy shot at my heart in a few months.

But I don’t see it being that easy this time around.

Once again, Sony is up to their same old tricks, selling overpriced “Starter Kits” to help us protect and carry our $250 toys from getting scratched. And worse yet, they’re still forcing proprietary memory units on us. Like the Pro Duo of old and the M2 with the Go, Sony has a special 32GB memory stick for the Vita.

This means we can’t use any extra 8GB MicroSD card sitting around the house. No, we must purchase an 8GB PS Vita Memory Card. It all feels too familiar. That $249 for the Wi-Fi only PS Vita becomes $270 once you grab a memory card. But are 8 whole gigabytes really sufficient with games consuming around 1-2GBs? Of course not. Throw two games, two movies, and some playlists on your Vita and you’re full. The 32GB memory card will run you $100.

It’s extortion.

It’s going to take a whole lot more than watered-down experiences with new Uncharted and Call of Duty titles to chip away the ice on my heart. Because when those games get old, and the online multiplayer experience proves even remotely unstable, I know I’ll be right back on line at Gamestop with a PS Vita and my fingers crossed for reasonable buyback value.

Let’s talk again when the slimmer, faster, and multicolored $200 bundles drop around the holidays.

My father and I at the Puerto Rican Day Parade ca. 1990

My memory really shouldn’t be this foggy, but I can’t recall the exact year this picture was taken. Honestly, I should probably utilize these top-notch reporting skills I possess and simply ask my mother to confirm, but I’m winging it instead.

Besides, there’s a context clue here that I want to use so I can feel like a wily detective.

The event and location go without question. It’s definitely the Puerto Rican Day Parade in New York, so I know I’m wearing polyester in June. My gut is settling on 1990 because my father doesn’t have his ponytail. In the 1980s, the Steven Seagal ponytail was all the rage, and my father — looking like the lead singer in TKA — was in that “long hair, don’t care” phase. But when he started working for the Sanitation Department, the locks got chopped because washing it was tedious and disgusting.

So, 1990 it is.

My family and some family friends of old went through the process to get involved in the Puerto Rican Day Parade. Their plan was to dress me as a Puerto Rican Uncle Sam, tossing fake money onto the streets from the backseat of a red convertible my mother rented from Avis. Dressing as Albizu Campos might have been too intense, as I was probably only six years old in this picture.

Letting dollars fly in the wind along Fifth Avenue was the height of luxury back then. Reagan Era, baby! For the longest time, I truly believed I was sending real dollars out into the breeze. Even as I grew older, wiser, and matured enough to better understand the value of money, part of me still believed I was making it rain with small bills during a parade. Kids are dumb.

There’s actually a very revealing psychological dialogue we can begin here about how formidable that experience was for me — especially when considering how frivolously and irresponsibly I still spend my money today. But, wepa! Let’s turn up the C&C Music Factory and think about it later.

I really wish I still had the outfit somewhere. That’s another thing I’ll need to do some reporting on when I remember to interrogate my mother. The only thing that remained years later was the top hat. It was nestled neatly on a shelf in a closet in my great-grandmother’s old apartment. I used to wear it while sitting on her plastic-covered furniture watching Nickelodeon and eating bacalaítos. Damn good times.

Fun Fact: The red convertible my mother rented for the parade was actually stolen that weekend. I suppose she got lost in the concept of showering New York with fake money and forgot that we still lived in the projects. We’ll blame the residual impact of Reaganomics combined with Dinkins era New York for that one.

Oh, just another day in the Los Angeles Lakers locker room. Reporters took notes while the Lake Show prepared for the shortened season with some free throws and rebounding drills.

And then someone decided to ask Pau Gasol an inappropriate question regarding Kobe Bryant’s personal life.

“I have to ask, because we are reporters and this is our job, but there’s a lot of rumors out there — there’s a lot of reports out there — about Kobe’s divorce. Do you know anything about that?” asked the off-camera voice.

An overall great day at work, I’d say. The question and Gasol’s response may not find a place in the sports pages, but at least there’s a camera and a YouTube account to feed that insatiable beast. Because gossip is the new name of the game.

I have to say, because I have a blog and a platform, that the reporter’s preface to that inappropriate question doesn’t justify her reasoning. Divorce is a personal matter, which Gasol should have no comment about, and doesn’t require any kind of inquiry — especially while all the details were just “rumors … reports.”

Is this really what you want to accomplish with your credentials and access? Terrible question, and my compliments to Gasol for doing the best he could in the moment.

We can discuss media ethics in this situation, and any lines the reporter may have crossed in her shallow attempt to manufacture a story with a salacious quote. But the crux of my beef is with the standard we hold athletes to that doesn’t apply in any other facet of our lives.

We all have opinions on divorce, and they likely vary on a case-by-case basis in accordance with our perception of the questioned marriage’s quality. These aren’t opinions we express freely. No one logically volunteers information at the water cooler about why Melissa filed for divorce from Peter — unless they’re vain and foolish.

And therein lies the problem. The reporter assumed Gasol for a fool. Not because it was her job, but because she hoped to catch Gasol speaking without thinking. His facial expression alone shows that she broke the news to him. Or maybe he was shocked that she actually brought it up, as if he could be the typical romantic-comedy friend who devises an intricate plot to reconcile Kobe and Vanessa’s differences.

None of this is to say that there aren’t ways to discuss how Kobe’s personal life could impact his performance and the Lakers who rely on him. But maybe the season could start first? Maybe a columnist can wait for an awful Kobe performance to ask how heavily the divorce is weighing on him?

And then — maybe, just maybe — this reporter can ask Gasol if he thinks Kobe’s head is in the game. That might make a pretty good story if you need to file something that writes itself.

The fact that this clip came from the Los Angeles Times is most disappointing. It’s this kind of questioning that lends credence to TMZ’s style of sloppy reporting and traffic-grabbing headlines. They’re not even giving journalism a chance.

Nike Air Foamposite Pro – Retro Blue: released July 2011, vanished from retail very quickly

I don’t want to point any fingers here (just browsers), but someone doesn’t understand the current climate of the sneaker industry — or they intentionally pressed a panic button, for no reason whatsoever.

USA Today did a great job in exploring a potential trickle-down effect from the NBA lockout, especially given the severe lack of newsworthy items from the owners-and-players meetings. But I don’t understand USA Today’s reason for quoting Marshal Cohen, chief industry analyst at the NPD Group, and then spending more than 600 words to prove him wrong.

Cohen believes the sneaker industry is in danger of losing upwards of $500 million if the 2011-12 season is lost. He’s wrong. While I’m sure he’s absolutely awesome at analyzing and projecting retail trends, I’m not convinced he fully understands the fashion-first sneaker industry.

About 33% of all basketball shoes are purchased to play basketball, Cohen said. That leaves 67% of the sales from consumers going for the association with an endorser such as Nike’s LeBron James— or with the NBA itself, Cohen said.

“The impact would be huge,” he said. ” Out of sight, out of mind. If the players are not on the court, and the kids aren’t thinking about them, they’re not going out and getting their shoes.”

No! Those of us who don’t play basketball will doom the industry. We are the 67%! Occupy Sneaker Stores, sneakerheads!

USA Today spoke to Matt Powell from SportsOneSource, and he confirmed the one point that needed to be made: Jordan Brand dominates the industry, controlling “70% of the business.” It’s been more than eight years since Michael Jordan’s final NBA game, and His Airness is still a juggernaut, commanding nationwide midnight releases for his retro sneakers. I challenge Marshal Cohen to grab his pair of the “Concord” Jordan 11 Retro on its Dec. 23 release date and tell me again that the sales impact is huge.

It’s also been more than a decade since Anfernee Hardaway’s prime, yet his Nike Air Foamposite One (and the Pro version) — in all its unique color schemes, consistent releases, and $190+ price tags — routinely sell out within hours of their release.  The shoes are rarely worn on court, most recently appearing during Magic guard Gilbert Arenas’ 2010 sneaker tour.

The “Retro Blue” Foamposite Pro attached above released well after the NBA season finished, when a long lockout was inevitable, and they sold out at most locations within a day. A “Dark Pine” Foamposite Pro released two months later with a line of customers extending deep into a nearby train station.

Now, let’s say that Jordan Retro sneakers and all styles of the Foamposite are anomalies and only represent a small fraction of the 67% Mr. Cohen claims can impact the sneaker sales. We already know that’s not true, but let’s throw it out for the sake of argument.

Cohen likes LeBron James as the chief endorser of all Nike products, so we’ll stick with the King for right now. Here’s a video from Inside the Sneakerbox, outside Mr. R Sports in Miami for the limited release of the “Cannon” LeBron 9:

For more fun, I encourage you to visit the USA Today link. The article image is a zoomed-in shot on James’ feet while wearing the “Cannon” LeBron 9 at the South Florida All Stars Classic.

There go some of the 67%, lined up outside a sneaker store in the rain, while the NBA should be playing preseason games. Also featured in the video are the “China” LeBron 9, and the “South Beach” LeBron 8. The “South Beach” colorway is a really fun pair to point out because King James never wore them on the court; yet they’re the crown jewel of Nike’s LeBron James signature series. The “South Beach” sold quickly and currently sit at around $800 or better in the resale market.

Powell went on to claim that Adidas would likely be “hit hardest,” but that’s because NBA-licensed apparel might decline — not sneakers. Therefore, the numbers are skewed.

And then USA Today drops this humdinger:

Despite the lockout, Adidas is seeing strong sales from endorser Derrick Rose‘s new signature shoe, the adizero Rose 2, company spokeswoman Stephanie Von Allmen said. Adidas’ basketball business grew 25% in the company’s last fiscal quarter, she said.

So much for that huge impact.

*****

The lockout will redefine the responsibilities an athlete has while under contract with an endorsement deal. When there are basketball games to play, athletes are expected to wear the clothes they’re paid handsomely to endorse. Therefore, while basketball remains locked out, sneaker companies are embarking on unique initiatives to keep their kicks in plain sight.

Rich Lopez, publisher of KixandtheCity.com, discussed that on Twitter recently. Damning those 140 characters, Lopez delivered a series of tweets detailing the creative strategies sneakers brands are using that wouldn’t have been possible without the lockout.

“Brands have done bigger and more creative activations around their launches,” Lopez writes. “The [Derrick Rose] event in Chicago and the [Carmelo Anthony] event in NYC are two prime examples. Neither would have been completely possible without the lockout.

“I am sure that it would have been nearly impossible for [Under Armour] to bring all of their athletes to a swanky event in NYC a week before the season.”

Like any industry, when outside circumstances project doom, it’s in the hands of creative minds to explore new and more efficient ways to maintain a product’s relevance. The sneaker industry is going to be just fine.

The men pictured above (l. to r.) are Kris Hammond, Larry Birnbaum, and Stuart Frankel of Narrative Science, and their hard work is a potential haymaker to the jaws of sports journalists everywhere. They are the evil geniuses responsible for a sportswriting machine profiled in yesterday’s New York Times. And I ain’t even mad.

Their computer program wrote a game brief within 60 seconds for a Big Ten website based on data, developed an algorithm (or whatever) for more human-like writing, and amazed some experts who don’t really know quality sports writing, but are experts nonetheless.

“I thought it was magic,” says Roger Lee, a general partner of Battery Ventures, which led a $6 million investment in the company earlier this year. “It’s as if a human wrote it.”

Experts in artificial intelligence and language are also impressed, if less enthralled. Oren Etzioni, a computer scientist at the University of Washington, says, “The quality of the narrative produced was quite good,” as if written by a human, if not an accomplished wordsmith.

On the bright side, that blockquote contains optimism from biased parties. An enthusiastic investor should marvel, and a high compliment from a scientist is cool, but can he write a 400-word gamer? The computer-powered story Steve Lohr used as an example in his lead is acceptable, but nothing truly remarkable. Now, if only Narrative Science’s supporters can convince the scientists to add more hyperbole to its prose.

The machine’s writing is precise and accurate. It delivers news as information without feeling, pumping out the kind of content human writers often prefer to publish without a byline.

Sports writing programs aren’t a new concept, likely because most sports writing feels programmed on its own. Game capsules for previews and recaps are often a regurgitation of statistics and meaningless history. Such articles usually read as if there’s no human element to the writing (or the game), anyway. A lot of it is pure information in an industry suffering from information overload.

The good thing is that Narrative Science’s work, thus far, isn’t exactly traffic-driving content. It’s a recap people will only see if linked on Twitter, or if they noticed it while already browsing the site. The publisher’s SEO practices likely matter most.

But if Narrative Science teaches the machine to do WAG slideshows, the whole business is in trouble.

Business Week wrote about these guys a year and a half ago, asking if sportswriters were really necessary. It’s a dick question, but  one that’s given credence when most people think sports writers are merely ex-jocks living vicariously through actually talented athletes.

Nonetheless, the idea has been circulating for more than a decade, but was never executed well enough to be considered a legitimate option. Narrative Science believes they’re close to such legitimacy. I’m reserving judgment until the software can attend games and interview players. Human writers might have a place until then.

I’ll say the sky is falling once the program proves savvy enough to aggregate locker room quotes as they appear on Twitter.

*****

As students, we’re trained to write; and then as writers, we watch other writers attain various levels of success while middle-fingering the rules we were taught. The frustration sets in for those of us who straddle this line of compliance while stifling our instincts, only to fall behind and watch those rules get exploited by a computer that computes.

When I started writing, professors and editors nixed entire graphs with a reminder that there’s no room for my opinion, that such words belong in a column and not a straight-news piece. Now, it’s becoming more apparent that there’s actually no room for lengthy, straight-news stories.

I edited Associated Press reports as part of my intern duties in the past, condensing full stories into accurate 40- to 60-word blips, and learned something very important: Pure recaps suck. And they have for a very long time.

There are only so many ways to write ‘this team beat that team because that guy did this.’ The writing was robotic and formulaic way before Narrative Science programmed a motherboard to handle the task. I Tumblr’d about it earlier. Allow me to quote myself:

… this is also an indictment on sports writing and how easily these bland recaps are yawned out.

No one cares about the recap anymore. We have 24-hour highlight shows, YouTube, and apps for that shit — with 140-character Twitter updates to churn out stat lines and snark. And then fans don’t have to care anymore, because the next morning is for thinking about the next game.

The recap has needed more imagination for a long time, because readers don’t want to know what happened as much as why it happened.

I have no choice but to respect Narrative Science, even if they want to Alt+Ctrl+Delete me. I’ve wanted to delete and nuke a lot of the bland sports writing and reporting that’s already killing the field.

Hammond is looking for a Pulitzer from his program within five years. Writers need to think about what we’re going to do before then.

“In five years, a computer program will win a Pulitzer Prize — and I’ll be damned if it’s not our technology.”

It’s time for journalism to evolve and I’m sure of it. There are no definitive answers to the how, but I’m convinced it starts with changing the narrative and twisting up the scientific process.

Nike is working exceptionally hard to make their presence felt in football. The NFL license they obtained, to provide uniforms and other equipment for the league, is a step closer to slapping a gigantic swoosh on the gridiron in 2012. Most players already wear Nike gloves and cleats, so a uniform contract was logical for both Nike and the NFL.

A cynical outlook would be to suggest that Nike’s “The Opening” — a five-day high school football training camp, concert, clinic, and/or all of the above — was an attempt to purchase youth loyalty from elite talents on the fast track to professional careers. But that would be a terribly short-sighted and uninformed viewpoint of the week. Andrew Sharp at SBNation.com shut that down in his recap:

Plenty of folks will see the Nike camp as a breeding ground for corruption, the same way plenty of folks saw Sonny Vaccaro as a predator, exploiting these 17-year-olds for sneaker companies.

But in the end, 7-on-7 promotes players better than summer combines ever could, and camps like The Opening take kids like Deontay out of places like Baltimore to spend a week getting first class treatment from Nike, and getting exposed to some of the best talent—and the best coaching—in the country. For someone like Deontay, it’s a pretty great experience. How is that a bad thing?

Pigskin is undoubtedly at the event’s core. Nike invited 150 of the nation’s top high school talents to Beaverton, some of these kids from unsavory communities, so they could compete in skills drills and a 7-on-7 tournament for trophies, plaques, acknowledgment, and a vital learning opportunity.

Nike 7On trophy unveiled before the tournament began.

The between time was spent enjoying Nike’s hospitality, featuring a monstrous players lounge filled with flatscreen televisions, gaming consoles, and advance copies of EA Sports’ NCAA Football ’12. There were barbers available to the kids, keeping the kids’ hairlines sharp and their unique designs fresh. Some kids shaved the Nike swoosh into their heads, others had their preferred university logo detailed.

Premium facilities and access to NFL stars like the Lions’ Ndamukong Suh, the Chiefs’ Dwayne Bowe, the Seahawks’ Russell Okung and Aaron Curry, the Browns’ Joe Haden, the Ravens’ Ray Rice, former Saints center LeCharles Bentley, and retired Giants linebacker Antonio Pierce, among others, weren’t enough to really call “The Opening” a party, though.

Nike delivered We The Best Music Group/Def Jam recording artist Ace Hood for a 10-minute performance, just to prove how hip and down they really are — in case anyone forgot.

The only thing left for Nike to do was make sure they had media at the World Headquarters to witness, cover, and enjoy (with stone-faced professionalism) the festivities. That’s where my involvement begins.

*****

I was up at 4 a.m., New York time, on July 7 to board a 6:50 a.m. direct flight to Oregon. Didn’t sleep much the night before since I like the rush of last-minute packing. I whispered lies to myself about resting on the flight, knowing full well that it’d be impossible. No way I’d get real sleep on a plane.

My flight touched down a little before 10 a.m., Oregon time, and I was driven directly to Tiger Woods Center on the Nike campus — for football time. Yes, Nike names their buildings after prominent players paid to endorse the brand. That’s a meaningful token of appreciation.

I was thrown a little off my game since I expected to check in at the hotel from the airport, receive an itinerary, and get a moment to freshen up after a cross-country flight. Instead, I was the guy who inadvertently entered the Nike World Headquarters with a Reebok weekend bag.

Yes, I was conflicted about using the bag. It’s kind of a dick move to carry a rival logo on a corporate-funded trip, but it’s what I had. Besides, if I went directly to the hotel, no one would have ever known. Cause and effect, people. (The bag was swapped for a Swoosh before the weekend was out.)

*****

Some members of the media were already at Beaverton for a day or so, enjoying their opportunity to meet former 49ers great Jerry Rice and getting a head start on everything Nike planned. I was limited for the first few hours without a media credential, so I sat in a room overlooking the football fields where these elite high school players, sized like professionals, were running a variety of skill drills.

Linemen darted around bags with purpose and unexpected grace for kids their age. Quarterbacks threw tight spirals to quick and agile receivers making one-handed grabs in stride. I used a 70-300mm lens as a telescope from my vantage point, watching these kids do things I’d only seen at NFL training camps. More media members trickled in where I was waiting, all sharing stories of kids they saw with 40-inch verticals and 4.3 40 speed.

If you played high school football, or even followed it to some degree, then you know how a truly special kid with Divison-1 talent stands out on a field of boys whose playing days will end before they’re 18. At Beaverton, there were two fields filled with 150 kids that possessed that remarkable ability. Most of the kids there were already committed to prominent Division-1 programs.

Remember: That's a teenager.

The entire weekend felt like a preview for the 2014 and 2015 NFL Combines. Some of the kids couldn’t compete in the contact drills because their commitments to specific Division-1 programs forbid such activity.

*****

The 7On tournament is the culmination of the five-day event. The kids are on the Nike campus, getting to know one another, and keeping their skills fresh and sharp before splitting into teams for seven-on-seven games. It’s glorified two-hand touch like you rarely see, because all the participants are fast, agile, and have instinctive ability for live-game situations. Two-hand touch sometimes turned into a mid-air collision, a hard shoulder bump, and shifty moves to evade converging defenders after the catch.

But when I think football, I envision clashing. I hear helmets thumping against one another, the crack of shoulder pads, and the grunts that come with each feat of strength. Football happens in the trenches.

Running backs don’t run, quarterbacks don’t throw, and receivers don’t run routes without the tug of war at the line of scrimmage when there are 22 men on the field. The 7On tournament was the rims and wheels on a fancy vehicle, but the linemen challenge is the grease engine that powers it.

I gravitated toward the linemen challenges, and watched as Suh, Bentley, and Okung directed teenagers and advised them about their techniques. These kids were exceptional athletes — but raw in a lot of ways — and the pros were there to help refine their skills. They had the basics down: Be stronger, get lower. Some of them already had the requisite aggression necessary to be great on the line.

That’s what I like to see.

*****

Part two of my coverage was about the footwear. I hit Dallas in December for Nike’s debut of the Air Zoom Alpha Talon cleats. They sounded innovative then with all the traction technology they threw into the shoe. “The Opening” was my first chance to see them in action.

The Vapor Carbon cleats also came out to play. It’s unknown if the kids were able to choose which cleats they preferred, or if they were simply provided in a Nike duffel bag upon their arrival.

Suh told me he preferred the Alpha Talons for his purposes as a lineman seeking leverage, thinking the low-cut Vapor Carbon would be better suited for “those skill guys to go faster when making sharp, tough cuts.” I didn’t speak to the kids for their preferences. In retrospect, I should have. (/slaps writing hand. Bad journalist!)

Either way, here’s a side-by-side video I put together to detail the differences between the Alpha Talon and Vapor Carbon cleats:

[July 17, 2011] “Ndamukong Suh details his contribution to the Nike Air Zoom Alpha Talon”

PS – Team Alpha Talon won that really cool trophy.