Tom Talks

Manning: Pressure's an eighth-grade drama

Peyton Manning says he doesn’t feel pressure to win football games. Asked the most pressure he’s ever felt in his life, he says that in eighth grade, he wanted to get out of computer class and switch to musical theater. After he switched, he learned that everybody in the class had to perform in a play. Suddenly computer looked good, but the school wouldn’t let him switch again.

He appeared in "The Boyfriend," and in one scene he was forced to dance the tango. He wore black pants, a ruffled red tuxedo shirt and a yellow cummerbund. He didn’t mind performing Friday in front of the school.

But Saturday, he had to perform in front of his family. His two brothers would be there.

"That was pressure," says Manning. "But I did it. I studied up."

He adds: "There’s video, but don’t look for it. It’s deep in the Manning vault I assure you."

Maseratis are far more South Beach than South Charlotte

  I saw two Maseratis Wednesday afternoon in Miami Beach. In the county in which I live, I have never seen a Maserati. Both of the Miami Maseratis were yellow.

   I can't fathom driving a yellow car -- look at me, I'm  a canary with wheels -- but I could make an exception. You imagine parking a Maserati in your driveway and looking at it and knowing it's yours?

  Come on, you didn't grow up wanting to drive a giant SUV. It just happened. Your neighbor bought one and your brother-in-law did and so did two co-workers and a good friend. It was big and comfortable and you just got caught up in it.

   Now you have two choices. You can buy an even bigger SUV, which means it will have a greyhound painted on the side. Or you can buy a Maserati.

   Please do the right thing. And let me borrow it.

Super Bowl: Where women really are on a pedestal

   Went to a party for the media Tuesday night and the first thing I saw inside was a pedestal on which a woman wearing high heels and a bikini danced. Some of you probably think I write about such subjects too often.

   But if you want into a party and the first thing you see was a woman in high heels and a bikini dancing on a pedestal, wouldn't you notice? It's not as if that happens when I come home after work. The woman had to dance on a pedestal because the surface of the party, an outdoor park in South Beach, was sand.

   The thing about the woman, and the other women on the other pedestals, and the bikini-clad women bouncing a little beach ball around and the other bikini-clad women playing beach volleyball, is that they did what they did with grace and class.

   And since I didn't know they'd be there, they were not the reason I wrote a column Tuesday night in 17 minutes.

There's Proehl and Metzelaars and ...

Walk into a tent along the water to talk to the Indianapolis Colts Wednesday morning, and it's like being back in Charlotte. Except for the panoramic view of the beach and the water and the balmy temperature and the sunshine shimmering off the gentle waves, it's like being back in Charlotte is what I'm trying to say.

There's receiver Ricky Proehl, the former Carolina Panther. There's center Jeff Saturday, the former North Carolina Tar Heel. There's assistant head coach Jim Caldwell, the former head coach at Wake Forest. And there's former Panther tight end and former Charlotte Christian and Wingate assistant coach Pete Metzelaars.

Pete - I'm tired of looking up his vowel-collection of a last name to make sure I spelled it correctly - is Indianapolis' offensive quality control coach, and I must say that this season he has controlled the offensive quality of the Colts exceptionally.

He played in four Super Bowls with Buffalo, so this is his fifth. Since he played for Buffalo he's 0-4. And you think there's pressure on Peyton Manning to win one.

Any connection between Charlotte Christian and Wingate and the Super Bowl XLI Colts?

"Probably not really, other than being willng to do whatever you have to do," says Pete. "I used to have to line fields and do laundry and collect the stuff and pass out equipment, so whatever I have to do I'm willing to do that."

Pete scored the first touchdown in Panthers history.

"It always will be," he says.

Remember it?

"I think it was a corner route, I want to say it was a Z-spot," says Pete. "The wide receiver ran a hook and I ran a corner route from the 12-yard line and it was the first drive of the regular season, and we just drove down the field, doink, doink, doink, touchdown pass."

You remember every touchdown you ever scored?

"No," says Pete. "Well, there weren't that many."

He scored 29.

Does your historic touchdown for the Panthers come up much?

"Historic, yup, yup," says Pete. "Not very."

Worst QB in Super Bowl history? Grossman a contender

   I don't if Rex Grossman is the worst quarterback in Super Bowl history. He's a contender, but the competition is strong.

   Minnesota's Joe Kapp was a tough guy. No matter how hard you hit him, he got up. He had the mentality of a linebacker. He also had the passing ability of a linebacker. Kansas City beat the Vikings 23-7 in Super Bowl IV.

   David Woodley, who is known as the Miami quarterback before Dan Marino, hit Jimmy Cefalo with a 76-yard pass to open the scoring in Super Bowl XVII. Miami's only other touchdown came on a kick return. Washington beat the Redskins 27-17.

   New England's Tony Eason was terrible against Chicago in Super Bowl XX, but against lesser defenses he was merely bad. Chicago had the best defense I've ever seen, and the Bears beat Eason and the fellows 46-10.

   San Humphries of San Diego was not very good. He did, however, throw a touchdown pass in Super Bowl XXIX to cut San Francisco's lead to 49-26.

   Folks who contend that a good quarterback is not necessary to win the Super Bowl love to invoke Baltimore's Trent Dilfer. The Colts beat the New York Giants 34-7 in Super Bowl XXXV, and with that defense, all Dilfer had to be was a caretaker. But he was a good caretaker. I'll take him over the other quarterback in the game -- New York's Kerry Collins.

   Grossman, meanwhile, is only 26 and has been injured most of his career. And he did play for Steve Spurrier at Florida. So he could grow up to become good.

  But he might not. A great fallacy is that he played well in the NFC Championship Game against New Orleans. He was 3-of-12 at the half for 37 yards. His team was winning because the Saints kept giving up the ball.

   Grossman didn't show up until late in the third quarter, and in the fourth quarter his 33-yard touchdown pass to Bernard Berrian was a jump ball.

   If worst Super Bowl quarterback of all time comes down to Grossman and Kapp, I say Grossman is at the bottom. Kapp was a better tackler.

Robots vs. idols, and Idol rejects

   A radio guy invites a player at Dolphin Stadium to join him at his table, instead of talking to the player, they put little robots on the top and fight each other with them. Right now the radio guy's robot is fighting the robot operated by the Chicago Bears' Mark LeVoir.

  Media day usually is sappy, but not Tuesday. Face it. We've all wondered what would happen when a radio guy's robot fought a robot operated by a tackle on Chicago's practice squad, and now we have the answer. The radio guy's robot wins.

   There is other serious journalism being practiced, and one of the journalists doing the practicing is Warren Sapp of the NFL Network and the Oakland Raiders.

   Sapp wears a long lime green shirt that hangs out. Although he appears to have lost weight, he still looks like a putting green.

   Some reporters get more attention than Sapp. One is a woman from TV Azteca who, well, stands out. Although lean, she stands way out. Players, journalists and even a team physician get their picture taken with her.

   But the reporters who collect the most attention are the two guys, Jonathan and Kennith, I think their names are, who were eliminated from American Idol after the judges first attempted to humilate them. They have since appeared on Jimmy Kimmel. They're stars.

   On Tuesday they walk up to a player and ask him to join them in a rendition of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame." And some of the players do.

   "Do you watch American Idol?" the blond Idol reject, either Jonathan or Kennith, asks Indianapolis receiver Marvin Harrison. Harrison, who is known for running great routes and having no sense of humor, starts to say no, and then sees the questioners.

   "I know who you are," Harrison says. "I saw you on Leno."

   Let's give the kids credit. You don't have to have a journalism degree, a green shirt or a fighting robot to find the truth. You only have to ask the right question.

   "What's your favorite sport?" the kid asks Harrison.

Super Bowl highlight so far: Police escorts

  Here's how we start Super Bowl XLI week. We get on a Greyhound bus, pull onto the Miami Beach street and are joined by motorcycles ridden by police officers. Red and blue lights flash, radios are talked into and we're on our way to Dolphin Stadium for Media Day.

   I've never liked police escorts because only other people get them. But I changed my mind. Police escorts are very fair. With cops at your side. you'd be amazed how much more quickly and smoothly you handle Tuesday morning rush hour traffic.

   Envision the road as a stream. Envision the motorcycles as a dam. They stop road traffic and freeway traffic and every other kind of traffic as we float lazily to the stadium. The drivers who are stopped look up at the bus, which has tinted windows, to see who the important people are inside. Fooled you. It's only us.

   The sign that says, TOLL VIOLATIONS $100 PENALTY does not pertain to us. Toll roads do not pertain to us. We just scoot through, the wind perpetually at our back, the road consistently down hill. Man, would I love this escort heading home from downtown on I-485 or Rea Rd. or Providence Rd. during rush hour back in Charlotte.

   As we approach a hospital Tuesday morning, drivers attempting to merge are stopped. I look to see if anybody in the cars is in pain. If a passenger or driver in a stopped car is in need of an emergency appendectomy, I think he should be allowed to pass.

   This might sound terribly unselfish, but I believe surgery is more important than media day. Alas, what can one man do other than sit back and enjoy the ride?

Duke conspiracy? What conspiracy?

I don’t believe in most conspiracies, and I don’t believe there’s an ACC or NCAA conspiracy to favor Duke.

Now, I know what you Duke haters are going to tell me. You’re going to tell me about the 2000-01 Final Four game against Maryland. There were a few questionable calls that favored thte Blue Devils, but it’s not as if there were 100 of them. At most, Duke got 12.

You’ll tell about the Florida State game last season that Duke won in overtime. And you’ll talk about the strange technical foul officials called against the Seminoles for which three officials later were suspended.

Then you’ll go all grassy knoll about the extra two seconds officials gave Duke on Thursday against Clemson, seconds that enabled the Blue Devils to squeeze off the winning shot in regulation and avoid overtime.

You’ll tell me that the clock moved slower than rush hour traffic, moved slower than the story your uncle Ned tells about, well, nobody knows what the story is about, moved slower even than Monday afternoon.

The only thing your examples prove is that Duke gets an occasional break when it plays an ACC team from another state.

Boxing trainer Dundee still dandy, and now I have his number

  H.A. "Humpy" Wheeler, president of Lowe's Motor Speedway and boxing fan extraordinaire, grabbed me by the forearm at Fight Night for Kids Thursday and pulled me to a bar. He said I looked as if I needed a drink and that there was somebody at the bar I needed to meet. There was -- Angelo Dundee.

   Dundee trained some of the greatest boxers in history, among them Muhammad Ali and Sugar Ray Leonard. He was brilliant, one of the very best. He still loves the sport and loves to talk about the sport, and we talked for at least 10 minutes.

    He talked about heart and courage, and said if you don't have that, you have nothing. He talked about a former fighter of his, a huge man and a superior athlete, who should have been a champion. But the man lacked courage, and therefor never came close to being a contender. Asked which of his fighters had the most courage, Dundee said what you would think he would say -- Ali.

   As we talked, I looked around at the guys in tuxes whose companies had bought a table for Fight Night, and suspected that several of them had heard of Dundee and perhaps even recognized him. I apologized to Angelo for monopolizing his time, and thanked him the time he gave me.

   "No, thank you," Dundee told me. "I mean it. How many sportswriters care about boxing anymore? How many want to even write about it? If you ever need anything, call me."

   He handed me a business card and with a black pen wrote his telephone number on the back. Here I am, some guy Dundee has never heard of, and he's thanking me for my interest.

    This was not the first time I left a gathering with a telephone number (a few of which actually worked).

    But the others were not nearly as significant. This one I will save and savor.

    Thanks, Angelo.

Psst, I need a secret assist

You know how when you’re a kid you have clubhouses with secret passwords and secret code names and secret places where you hide secret stuff? I still have secret places where I hide secret stuff, but I remember them only if I write them down and if I write them down how secret are they?

A secret place is no big deal. What I want is a hidden compartment.

When police confiscated Atlanta quarterback Michael Vick’s water bottle at Miami International Airport last week they found a hidden compartment. That’s what I want. But where do you buy one? When was the last time you saw an advertisement at Target or Wal-Mart for water bottles with hidden compartments? Excuse me, sir, but could you direct me to the water bottles with hidden compartments department?

I really want one. I could put regular liquids in the water bottle and legal, but secret, liquids in the hidden compartment. Would I be the envy of my friends or what?

Friend: "Say, Tom, is that by any chance a hidden compartment in your water bottle?"

Me: "Yes it is."

Friend: "Where’d you get it?"

Me: "Can’t talk about it unless – do you have the secret password?"

Friend: "No."

Me: "Sorry."

If anybody comes across one, please send me an e-mail. Use the code word Ron Mexico.