Basura: Lengthy lonely laments from a long-suffering Lions lover

As I write this, the Detroit Lions have not yet played the New Orleans Saints on Monday night. I hold out hope, still.

Will my wife be treated to my lovely (?) singing voice, unaccompanied, belting out “Another Lion Vic Tor EEE”? Perhaps not. And, if they do win, I will tone down the volume, in consideration of the lateness of the hour.

I find I now watch very little football, and, in fact, my viewing is mostly restricted to the weekly Lions games. I had high hopes for this year. Quarterback Matt Stafford throws the ball very well. Calvin Johnson can be a dominant receiver, and deserves mention as one of the best of all time. When he’s not playing on a sore ankle. Golden Tate is a fine player. Ameer Abdullah is exciting. Ezekial Ansah is terrific. Darius Slay has been outstanding.

But this year has been quite a disappointment.

Growing up in what is charmingly known as Downriver Detroit, I watched with my dad as the Lions won it all in 1957. I was 10. It was their fourth and last championship. They’ve had some good years since then, but that was the last NFL championship. The Super Bowl came into existence nine years later.

I remember that the Lions, like most or all NFL teams, blocked out TV coverage of their home games in the Detroit area, to encourage game attendance. My father came up with a solution to this problem that didn’t involve buying tickets.

During high school, I would climb onto the roof of the house a little before kickoff. TV reception then was by not by cable or Internet, but by antennae. My job was to make slight adjustments to the antennae, mounted on the chimney at the top of the roof. My dad would tune the TV – this was before remote control – to Channel 6, which broadcast from Lansing.

Dad would call instructions to my sister, who would station herself on the front porch, and relay the messages to me. “Turn it more,” my dad would say. “Turn it more,” my sister would call to me. I would turn it more. “Too much,” said my dad.  “Too much,” said my sister. “Back, but just a little bit.” “Now the other way, but just a little bit.”

In this way, with some patience, we’d get a somewhat hazy black and white picture of the game, usually in time for the kickoff. On snowy days I was extra careful, as my dad urged me, on the roof. After the game, I got back up on the roof to get the antennae back to normal.

In these many years, I watched some great Lions players, and some good ones. Of course, I saw the legendary quarterback Bobby Layne. I remember the incredible Lions defensive units that featured Night Train Lane, Dick LeBeau, Gary Lowe and Yale Lary in the defensive backfield. Dick “Night Train” Lane was noted for his brutal tackling, said to be akin to being hit by a fast moving locomotive. Wayne Walker and Carl Brettschnieder were outside linebackers, with Joe Schmidt in the middle. Bill Glass and Darrin McCord were the defensive ends, with big Roger Brown and Alex Karras were at defensive tackle.

One year, 1962, the Green Bay Packers went 11-1 for the season. Their only loss, 26-14, came at Tiger Stadium in Detroit. My sister and I went to that game. She bought the tickets as a gift she knew I would like. I did.

I don’t know what the future holds for the Lions (I never use the “us” or the                  “we” pronouns). But, as I said, they have some good players. And next year they’ll pick early in the draft.