Is your name Johnson? If so, the NFL would like to speak with you.

Calvin Johnson’s catch
For an organization with as much collective intelligence as the NFL, its rules-makers sure are stupid when it comes to what constitutes the simple act of catching a football.

It seems we, fans and media, are in universal agreement that Calvin Johnson, who landed in the end zone with both feet, with two hands securely around the ball, then hopped and landed on those same two feet, then fell on his butt, then rolled onto one knee, then placed the ball on the ground, and then let go of the ball as he got up to celebrate, made a game-winning touchdown catch for the beleaguered Lions last Sunday. Hell, I say he made the catch four times, first for the two feet, then for the second two feet, then for the bum and finally for the knee.

Most have said the NFL applied the rule correctly, they just hate the rule. I’ll go further. I also hate the rule, which states that a player making a catch while going to the ground must maintain possession of the ball “all the way to the ground.” Johnson did that, and then some. He just didn’t see the need to continue to hold the ball for the act of getting up.

Let’s now make this even simpler. Two 8-year-olds playing catch in the yard with a football know what is a catch and what is not. What do you supposed they’d say about the play? Something along the lines of “Gimme a break” with an exaggerated eye rolling is my guess.

Bowling ball shot guy in Buffalo
The NFL just loves to hear itself talk. If the previous item does not demonstrate this clearly, maybe this will: the NFL has banned the tailgating practices of one Ken Johnson, a Bills fan who for 20 years has presided over a popular and delightfully wacky tailgate party. In addition to grilling meat directly on the heated hood of a 1980 Ford Pinto (what the hell else are you going to do with a 1980 Ford Pinto?), Johnson offers passers-by a shot of cherry liqueur out of the thumbhole of a bowling ball.

Apparently, this is all too much non-sanctioned fun for NFL commissioner Roger Goodell. The league, which apparently holds some jurisdiction over Ralph Wilson Stadium parking lots, has banned the practice. Johnson has gracefully agreed to move his tailgate party to a farther-away lot, though he has occupied the same space for two decades.

Have there been complaints? Have police been called to quell rowdy fans, normally docile sorts who raise hell when lubed up with a shot of fruity schnapps? If the answer is no, then I wish Johnson would steadfastly refuse to relocate, and that hardy Bills fans would band together with him. I'm sure he'd end up losing, but I'd love for him to fight this. This story needs to stay in the forefront for a while, for fans' sake.

Cowherd’s take on it
I am a big fan of ESPN Radio talk show host Colin Cowherd, mostly because he always tries to offer an angle that’s a little different than what everyone else is knee-jerkedly saying about an issue in sports. I could not, however, agree with his take on Ken Johnson’s tailgate. Cowherd seized upon a quote from Johnson, who said “You wonder how many people go to the games because of characters like me. I think I add to the experience.”

Cowherd compared Johnson, for this quote, to the guy at the comedy club who heckles the comedian, thinking his own humor adds to the comedic experience; to the loudest guy at a table at a steakhouse, telling the loudest jokes, laughing at his own jokes, thinking he’s the life of the party; and to the drunk fan at the stadium who thinks he adds something.

Colin, Ken Johnson is not these guys. At worst, he adds nothing to the experience of attending an NFL game but certainly doesn’t take anything away from it. But, nearer to the truth, the collective Ken Johnsons of the sports world make it fun to go to games. All these new stadiums have priced out so many fans, all in the name of providing comfy luxury boxes for wealthy “fans,” and “family entertainment” for people who attend the game with children. You know what? That is not enhancing the NFL experience for anyone who is supposed to matter. You want to entertain your kids? Take them to an amusement park. You want them to watch football? By all means, take them to the game, but let them watch football, not climb a pirate ship. You want to entertain corporate clients? Take them on a junket to Grand Cayman.

Cowherd suggested people like Johnson are the reason people are choosing to stay home and watch in HDTV. No. People are choosing to stay home because the NFL is making it clear true fans like Ken Johnson, who enjoy a little good clean fun before and after the game, people who have provided us great memories of trips to the stadium in addition to the football memories we have, are being told they are not wanted. And by the way, with what it costs just for the privilege of parking your car in a lot, I think fans should be allowed a little Ken Johnson-type fun. One fruity shot is not the reason a crowd goes from family-friendly to drunk and disorderly. It’s just damn fun. And people do come out for that guy. If you don’t believe me, check this out. http://espn.go.com/blog/afceast/post/_/id/384/example-a-why-buffalo-bills-fans-rock.

Wanna be a reporter? Then dress like one!
Everyone, it seems, has an opinion about the Ines Sainz flap.

Sainz, in case you hadn’t heard, is the drop-dead gorgeous reporter from Mexico’s TV Azteca who claimed last weekend she was subjected to whistling and “catcalls” from Jets players when she entered the Jets’ locker room to interview quarterback Mark Sanchez, a Mexican-American.

To all those who plan to opine further on this story, I have just one thing to say: I will read your opinion if, and only if, you have seen what Sainz wore to the interview.

“She asked for it” and “she had it coming” and “what did she expect” are no longer acceptable explanations of sexual harassment, and never should have been. But I’d like each of you to ask yourselves this: If Ines Sainz showed up at your workplace and interviewed for a job there dressed the way she was dressed, would you and your co-workers not have gotten together and shared a good chuckle over the bimbo who thinks this is how you dress for work?

Female reporters deserve equal treatment in the sports media. None should be treated differently because she is beautiful, or because she has breast implants, as some have suggested Sainz has. I don’t care. Anyone is free to alter his or her body how he or she sees fit.

Just don’t show up dressed like a hoochie mama, with high-heel boots and jeans that were spray-painted on your body, and expect to be taken seriously.

Suppose the Jets' PR director intercepted Sainz on the way to the locker room and told her that she needed to change into more appropriate clothes before she'd be allowed in. That would have solved everything. Don't you get the feeling she'd have felt equally aggrieved?

Carl Crawford’s cardinal sin
Tampa Bay’s Carl Crawford made the final out of Tuesday night’s game against the Yankees trying to take third base on a fly ball. He was skewered in the media for it. He shouldn’t have been.

It is true that making the final out of any inning at third base is just about the worst mental error a ballplayer can make. You are already in position to score a run – in this case the tying run in the bottom of the ninth – on nearly any base hit to the outfield. Advancing to third base with two outs gives the runner so little extra chance to score, it is not worth the risk of being thrown out. Hence, the unwritten rule is this: don’t try for third unless you are absolutely sure you will make it.

It’s a good rule. Here’s the problem: nobody can ever be absolutely sure of making it, in a literal sense. One can only be pretty darn sure. When we see a player make it safely to third, we say, “well, he took a risk, but he made it, so it was a good risk.” How ingenious – hindsight.

Nonsense. Carl Crawford is one of the fastest players in the sport. He tagged up on a fly ball right on the rightfield line, medium-deep. He was thrown out on a sniper-rifle throw from a September-call-up outfielder, Greg Golson. If I’m Carl Crawford, I’m absolutely sure I’m going to make it. About as sure as one can be without hindsight.

Let’s put it this way: When I saw Golson settling under the ball, as a Yankee fan, my thought was, “OK, so we’ve got two outs; Crawford will be at third, but who cares?” I’m pretty sure this was a reasonable thought, shared by many. Golson’s throw was as shocking to me as it surely was to Crawford.