John Focke, Behind the mike

Earlier this week the NFL’s competition committee denied Reggie Bush’s request to wear the No. 5 this upcoming football season.

Under the existing

rules in the NFL, running backs can only wear numbers 20-49.

The motion apparently passed without having to be voted on by the owners, but a good guess would be that they too would have denied the dynamic back’s request.

So what is in a number?

Why are running backs forced into those 29

numbers?

If you were to walk into a room randomly during a New Orleans

Saints game and saw Bush gallivanting around in No. 5 would you become confused?

I can just see scores of NFL fans scratching their heads on a Sunday afternoon, staring at their fantasy football rosters saying, &8220;Wait, I didn’t realize the Saints were going to be playing two quarterbacks.&8221;

Or &8220;Why is the kicker running the ball on first down?

Shouldn’t he be kicking the ball, not making everyone on the field miss?&8221;

The NFL is the best, and biggest sports draw in the land right now, but they are starting to get drunk on the gin of their own power.

First, they move a portion of games this upcoming season to the NFL Network, which would be great if it were a network, but it’s not.

That means if you

want to catch all of your team’s games you will need to buy a new package from your cable provider.

Next, they set up a flex schedule, where the powers that be, can move games

from a Sunday afternoon to a Monday night if it will bring in a better television audience.

Well what if you bought tickets a year in advance and

set your whole vacation around said game only to be forced to sell your

tickets because you have to work on Monday?

Then, wanting to live up to their nickname &8220;The No Fun League&8221; the NFL said no more end zone celebrations.

They took the fun right out of the touchdown.

Now I am not one for the Terrell Owens celebrations, or the Chad

Johnson over the top, prop using, choreographed dances, but Steve Smith was creative, and every once in a while it was fun to see the unfettered joy of a guy’s first TD.

Unfortunately, I believe those penalties will be in the back of players minds

when they score and you will see some really awkward not celebrations.

If

we wanted a league of robots I am sure we could get Bill Gates to whip something up.

So while the NFL has become a huge brand I feel it is on the verge of choking on its own power, and size.

Taking the game away from the people who helped make it so great, the fans.

The fact that people get so amped for the NFL Draft is a testament to the

love they have for the league, but that’s because any Tom, Dick and Harry can watch games on network television and not have to pay extra.

That is no longer the case, the beauty of the NFL had been its accessibility, its popularity may be its undoing.

Speaking of the NFL Draft, an exercise in sports gluttony, I caught the NBA Draft Lottery on television earlier this week.

Now this used to be a great televised event.

You had NBA teams sending the luckiest guys to the show (one year a team even sent the owner of Funny Cide, the Kentucky Derby, Preakness winner), they had the ping-pong balls all set up and you had some serious drama.

I remember being at a bar in Ohio watching the ping-pong balls with baited breath as the Cleveland Cavaliers won the No. 1 overall pick marking the beginning of the LeBron James era.

Not the case this year.

The show began with a quick overview of the players who might go No. 1 with Steve Lavin (who’s hair is the reason there’s an oil shortage).

Then a quick interview with NBA Commissioner David Stern followed by a commercial break.

Then it was back for the big drawing (now keep in mind the last time I saw this was three years ago, not realizing they no longer used the actual lottery machine) Dan Patrick introduced the representatives from the teams.

It was during this time the viewing audience learned that JoJo White, former Boston Celtics star, only wears underwear on lottery day and that one of Red Aurbach’s cigars is worth the No. 7 overall pick.

Then the big drawing, or should I say reading.

They put together a half-hour program to watch Russ Granik read off the names of the teams in their draft order!

Where’s the drama, the shots of the ball getting sucked up to reveal the winner, and a shot of an ecstatic Jerry Colangelo jumping up and down, high-filing the obviously disappointed representatives from the losing teams?

I don’t know why they took the fun out of the draft lottery but televising it now seems more ridiculous than the Magic Johnson show.

Whoops gotta go, that’s David Stern and Paul Tagliabue at the door.

Hope I don’t end up sleeping under the new Twins stadium.