Cru Jones Society

“Oh God, not this guy…”

That’s what you think when you see certain guys staring across the line at your favorite team. These are the guys you fear more than any other, and are the guys that can turn the game in the blink of an eye.

Over the last few weeks watching the Avalanche and Broncos, three athletes have stood out to me more than all the others. Patrick Kane of the Chicago Blackhawks seems poised to become the next Eric Lindros (hopefully for him, minus the concussions) with the way he overpowers defenders and seems to find every puck in traffic. Even though the Avs won that game, I was terrified every time Kane had the puck. Ed Reed of the Baltimore Ravens spent the evening two weeks ago separating Bronco receivers’ heads from their bodies and destroyed McDaniels’ candy ass game plan. Same goes for Troy Polamalu of the Steelers who is an absolute force of nature. Polamalu looks like he’s moving at Bo Jackson speed from Tecmo Bowl while everyone else moves like Jonah Hill.  

But since I’m older now, none of these guys scare me the way the most intimidating athletes from my youth did. Let’s take a look at the 5 Most Intimidating Athletes from E Dagger’s youth.

5. John Smoltz, Pitcher, Atlanta Braves

As I grew up in the 1980s and developed my consciousness about baseball, I always wondered two things about baseball on television. 1) Why were we able to see almost every Chicago Cubs game in Denver, and more importantly, who cares? It’s the Cubs! Hooray! 2) Why were able to see almost every Atlanta Braves game in Denver, and more importantly, who would want to? The Braves stink!

Here’s how the Braves finished between 1985 and 1990: 66-96, 72-89, 69-92, 54-106, 63-97, and 65-97 either in last place or next-to-last place every year. Whenever I saw them on the schedule against the Cubs during those years, I always mentally penciled in a victory because let’s face it, outside of Dale Murphy, the Braves were sucking the meat missile with the gusto of a 2-bit harlot on payday.

Then in 1989 something funny happened and I became deeply, deeply afraid every time the Cubs played the Braves. I was two years early because it wasn’t until 1991 that the Braves began their 15 year divisional dominance over everyone and subsequently bored the bejeezus out of everyone, but I remember 1989.

The Cubs were killing the dick out of the Braves as usual, but in the late innings they panned over to John Smoltz sitting in the dugout by himself staring waywardly onto the field. Harry Caray’s normally jovial tone shifted to ominous as he described who the Cubs had to face the next day. His voice took the tone of a Florida weathercaster discussing the impending hurricane approaching the coastline, and 8 year-old E Dagger sat at attention.

Harry described Smoltz’s dominance against the Cubs as he ran down his arsenal of pitches: A 98 mph fastball, a mystifying slider, and a back-breaking split finger pitch that would keep the Cubs off-balance for the next 15 buttloving years. Then he gave the most terrifying stat of all: John Smoltz was only 22 years old, and along with teammate Tom Glavine, would form 2/3 of one of the most dominant pitching rotations ever assembled. I watched every Smoltz start against the Cubs from there on out, and it looked like a man playing with boys. Sure, Glavine was probably more consistent, and Greg Maddux was one of the best 15 pitchers ever, but with Smoltz’s overwhelming power and steely-eyed stare, he was definitely the most frightening. Besides, who gets intimidated by a left-handed junk baller and a guy who looks like he’s refurbishing a TRS-80 in his parents’ garage, even if it is Greg Maddux? Scary guys have beards, and John Smoltz had a serious one!

Even though the Braves lost 97 games that year, Smoltz finished a respectable 12-11 with a 2.94 ERA, and went to his first All-Star Game. This was also the first year I learned to hate the Braves, which coincided nicely with 4 years later when the Rockies came into existence and went like 3-27 against them in their five seasons. And yes, Smoltz was a big reason for this too. Even though he’s broken down, I still get nervous every time he’s on the mound.

4. Sergei Fedorov, Center, Detroit Red Wings

I just spent the last 20 minutes reliving the Avalanche/Red Wings rivalry on YouTube. I can barely put into words just how much I hate the Red Wings. There are four things to clarify in this rivalry, so let’s get that out of the way first:

1) The very first thing they teach you in hockey is to never, ever put your head down near the boards. Why? Because if someone checks you into the wall, your face is getting the Picasso treatment. If Kris Draper had kept his head up like he was supposed to and not turned around to look down at god knows what, he would have absorbed Claude Lemieux’s hip check no problem, and Detroit fans wouldn’t be allowed to feel all the righteous indignation they do.

2) Speaking of which, let’s not forget that before that allegedly “dirty” hit, Detroit sent two Avalanche players to the hospital that season with questionable hits into the glass of their own. Mention this to any Red Wings fan, and they conveniently forget this fact.

3) For as much flack as Claude Lemieux gets for being a dirty player, no one ever seems to mention the outright thuggery and cheap shot artistry of noted punk Darren McCarty. If I were to list my favorite players of all-time, I think the list would look like this: 1) Joe Sakic; 2) Adam Deadmarsh; 3) Adam Foote … 99,998) Dino Ciccarelli; 99,999) Vladimir Konstantinov; 100,000) Darren McCarty

4) The reason Red Wings fans go to Avalanche games is because Detroit is a dump. No Avalanche fan would ever go there unless by court order or something. Your city sucks. We win.

Getting back to Fedorov, and I can tell you with supreme confidence that none of Detroit’s bruisers scared me in the least. McCarty, Konstantinov, Larionov – none of ‘em fazed me. I knew Foote or Deadmarsh or Severyn or whoever could handle those punks. The only from the Red Wings that scared me was Sergei Fedorov.

In the year the Avs won the Cup the first time, Fedorov had 107 points in 74 games and won the Frank J. Selke Award for his defensive prowess. There was nothing he couldn’t do as illustrated by this brilliant Nike commercial. For those of you who can’t see it, Fedorov squares off against approximately 12 players, outfoxes all of them (including notable dekes against superstars Jeremy Roenick and Keith Tkachuk), fires a slapshot at 5 goalies defending one net, gets the rebound, wraps around the goal, and scores. He then gets hit by a nefarious goalie who blindsides him with a zamboni. It’s the best 30 second encapsulation of how good Fedorov was, and probably the best hockey themed commercial of all-time.

Fedorov intimidated because he was so dazzling. Steve Yzerman was definitely the better player overall for the Red Wings, but Fedorov was more explosive. It’s a lot like how Joe Sakic always came through, but Peter Forsberg gave you more “wow” moments. I kept hoping someone would hit Fedorov with a zamboni like in that commercial, but then he held out during the 97-98 season for more money, married Anna Kournakova for a short while (allegedly), and was never the same. But damn if he wasn’t frightening in his prime.

3. Bad News Brown, WWF Wrestler, late 1980s

Remember when you were a kid how you believed your dad could beat up anyone? I always knew my dad could beat up Jake the Snake, the Million Dollar Man, and even Andre the Giant if he had to. But I remember watching Bad News Brown and thinking, “This guy would kick my dad’s ass and then kill me just for fun.” Bad News was just…so…mean.

To put this in perspective, Bad News was essentially Stone Cold Steve Austin 10 years earlier. He didn’t give a crap about anyone, he didn’t have any friends, and he was totally ruthless with anyone that stood in his way. And at the time, he had the best finisher in the WWF. It was called the “ghetto blaster” and was basically just a big ol’ kick to the back of the head. It seems tame now, but considering Hulk Hogan used to win championships with a horrible looking legdrop, a move that might actually hurt, like getting kicked in the back of your brain, looked all the more impactful and added to the mystique of the character.

And speaking of Hogan, Bad News got a shot at Hogan on a 1989 edition of Saturday Night’s Main Event. Every big oaf Hogan fought always had false bravado going into the fight, but Bad News looked genuinely pissed off. He took it to Hogan even before the bell and the two spilled onto the floor. Skip to about 9 ½ minutes in on this clip, and you’ll see Bad News miss a right hand decking the steel ringpost making him even more pissed off. So he grabs a chair to level Hogan with, but Hogan gains control of it, and whacks Bad News in the head. This only enrages Bad News further, so he picks the chair up, hits himself a few times with it, and returns to the locker room. What’s he getting? After watching someone stand up to Hulk Hogan like this, I had no clue at 8 years old. Some buddies from Harlem? A switchblade? His gat? Anything was possible at this point.

So he comes back with a giant shovel, which I admit looks comical now, but at the time was unheard of. No one ever ventured beyond the realm of a steel chair, so Bad News breaking the rules had added cachet. He didn’t get to use it unfortunately, and the match continued. Bad News ended the night looking up at the lights like every Hogan opponent, but he definitely made a statement that night.

Bad News was one tough son of a bitch, and his run in the WWF was nothing short of mesmerizing. I recently finished Bret “Hitman” Hart’s autobiography, which includes several stories of Bad News. Apparently he was one rough pecker in real life too. And since he’s dead, I’m actually glad to know that now.

2. Larry Walker, Right Fielder, Montreal Expos

In the early 90s, it seemed like the Cubs spent an inordinate amount of time playing the Montreal Expos. Every other game that didn’t have John Smoltz pitching against us, we were playing the goddamn Expos. You know you’re watching a good team when it feels like you’re playing them all the time. That’s how I felt with the Dodgers this year. You look at the lineup and go, “Jesus – Kemp, Loney, Blake, Ramirez, Hudson… there isn’t a single easy out in this lineup.” That’s how the lineup of the early-90s Expos teams felt, and the biggest cog in that machine was Larry Walker.

I remember when the Cubs would be retired to end an inning, and the little “Due up…” box popped up on the screen, it said, “2. Grissom 3. Walker 4. Alou” I always remember hoping the Cubs’ perpetually awful bullpen could keep those guys from destroying us, and almost always was I let down. Larry Walker was just such a beast in the middle of that lineup. He could hit to all fields, seemed like he could hit it 600 feet with the flick of his wrist, and had a dull Canadian expression which I mistook in my youth for that of a cold-blooded killer.

When the Rockies signed him in 1995, I could hardly believe my eyes. He’s ours? This guy – this man I’ve feared for the last four seasons is actually playing for my team. Unbelievable! I remember the first game I saw him live in action. A base hit breezed through the right side of the infield, Larry charged the ball hard, my dad (sensing what Larry was thinking) shouted “Get him at one!” Larry fired an absolute cannon shot to Galarraga, and the batter was out. I’d never seen such power come from one man’s arm, I sat staring at him mouth agape for the next 10 minutes. This guy actually played for us! It took me a good three seasons to reconcile this fact in my brain. It was like getting the school bully to not only stopping shaking you down for lunch money every day, he was now doing your bidding and beating up all the other bullies just for your benefit. A truly stunning turn of events for me in my baseball life.

1. Bruce Smith, Defensive End, Buffalo Bills

Of all the athletes on this list, Bruce Smith was the only one I thought capable of actually killing someone. I realize what I said about Bad News Brown, but in my heart of hearts, I always knew wrestling was fake. Fedorov was never a bruiser, and Smoltz and Walker played baseball, a sport that doesn’t reward raw intensity. But Bruce Smith played so furiously and with such force that I was worried one time we has going to sneak around the Broncos’ right tackle and hit John Elway so hard that Elway would just explode into a fine blue and orange cloud of dust.

This isn’t to say Bruce Smith was a malicious psychopath or a craven lunatic – by all accounts Bruce Smith is one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet – but I defy you to find a more fearsome sack specialist from this era that inspired more terror in quarterbacks. OK, I’ll give you Reggie White and maybe Derrick Thomas (a runner-up on this list, and someone I almost wrote about, but didn’t want to bum myself out since he died so young), but beyond those two, name anyone else. Bruce Smith compiled 200 sacks, had 14 ten-sack seasons, was an All-Pro 9 times, and made my feet sweat watching him lurk around John Elway approximately 75,000 times. There was simply no stopping him.

I remember watching Smith blast through double teams like he was playing Red Rover against a group of 3^rd graders. I watched him plant Steve Sewell on his ass in the playoffs more times than a drunk chick falling down after too many lemon drop shots. He owned that Broncos’ offensive line, and while this is an exaggeration, I feel like he got approximately 150 of those 200 sacks against us. I read an interview with Ron Jaworski one time where he shared that he still had nightmares about Lawrence Taylor breaking through the line and lighting him up, even 20 years later. Do you suppose John Elway has those same dreams about Bruce Smith?

 I don’t think I could ever handle seeing a picture of Elway and Smith together today. I’d be too worried about Smith just taking him out right then and there even though each guy is in his 40s, they didn’t even play in the same division, and their knees are likely completely shot to hell. But that’s the beauty of athletics. Any time I ever need a jolt of good old fashioned childhood fear, I just hop on YouTube and watch Bruce Smith light suckas up.

“Oh God, not this guy…”

Makes you feel alive.

edagger@crujonessociety.com