**The Official 2010 Chargers Thread**
- Thread starter nonfiCKtion
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my man brownie!
come on homie...when a QB can consecutively start damn near 300 games without missing a beat...That IS heart brougham! Even without this season, he still holds that record right? I mean really....you truly believe Favre doesn't have the heart of Phillip "bites off more then he can chew" Rivers??? LOL
come on homie...when a QB can consecutively start damn near 300 games without missing a beat...That IS heart brougham! Even without this season, he still holds that record right? I mean really....you truly believe Favre doesn't have the heart of Phillip "bites off more then he can chew" Rivers??? LOL
^^lol @ you two.
what exactly did this offseason have to do with Favre's heart? Does that take away from all those games he started in a row? NO.
how many games has Rivers started in a row again? until he gets near the Favre line THERE IS NOTHING THAT SAYS RIVERS HAS MORE HEART THEN FAVRE! lol
take off your lightning bolt sunglasses and take a look into some reality.
what exactly did this offseason have to do with Favre's heart? Does that take away from all those games he started in a row? NO.
how many games has Rivers started in a row again? until he gets near the Favre line THERE IS NOTHING THAT SAYS RIVERS HAS MORE HEART THEN FAVRE! lol
take off your lightning bolt sunglasses and take a look into some reality.
what?
there is no talking to you bozos who truly believe Phillip Rivers has more heart then Brett Favre. Anyone with a sense of football knowledge KNOWS Rivers can't hold a candle to what Favre has done throughout his career when it comes to suiting up game after game.
i don't even care for Favre, I just had to put you Charger homers in place with this dumb ass stance ya'll have with Rivers somehow having more heart than any QB in the league...:ermm:
get over yourselves.
there is no talking to you bozos who truly believe Phillip Rivers has more heart then Brett Favre. Anyone with a sense of football knowledge KNOWS Rivers can't hold a candle to what Favre has done throughout his career when it comes to suiting up game after game.
i don't even care for Favre, I just had to put you Charger homers in place with this dumb ass stance ya'll have with Rivers somehow having more heart than any QB in the league...:ermm:
get over yourselves.
cool article on my folks, malcom floyd
glad to see he's gettin' some shine after all of his hard work and patience
It’s like he woke up one morning, the dawn of a summer day between eighth and ninth grades, and he was 6-foot 4. Nature can be so cruel to teenagers, but the view from all that new height wasn’t the hard part of the growth spurt for Malcom Floyd.
“I couldn’t jump,” he said. “Even though I was taller, there were a lot of my friends who dunked before me. I was like, ‘Aw, man, I’m gonna be one of those uncoordinated kids.’ ”
Clearly, he got over it. Way over it.
Floyd’s ability to reach an altitude well above NFL defensive backs — using not only his fully grown height of 6-foot-5, but also his 40-inch vertical leap and basketball-borne knack for beating everyone else to a football that’s up for grabs — has almost become his signature in the National Football League.
“Malcom loves to jump,” said his trainer, Todd Durkin, noting that Floyd has used his lift and wing span to touch a light nearly 13 feet in the air. “His vertical leap is 40 inches, but if a ball’s in the air, he’ll go 42 inches to get it.”
To this point, even while working so high off the ground, Floyd’s managed to maintain a low profile. No more. With the absence of Vincent Jackson, Floyd could be on the verge of a professional growth spurt, a major increase in his stature and role within the Chargers’ high-octane, pass-minded offense.
“I didn’t start to play until the last half of the season, so if I’m starting this regular season, I’ll get more opportunities and see more plays,” said Floyd, who had three receptions for 47 yards in his first-half stint Saturday night against the Cowboys. “There’ll be a lot more attention. Opponents might roll a safety over. But the best thing you can do is focus on your route, beating the guy you’re going against, trying to win all your battles and not focus on any of the other stuff.”
As much as he’s looking ahead to what appears to be his first season as Philip Rivers’ top target in the corps of wide receivers, Floyd isn’t beyond looking back, particularly since that’s where he’s found extra motivation for 2010. He’s clung to the bad memory of the Chargers being upset by the New York Jets in the playoffs, and specifically, his own part in the disappointment.
“I left off on a sour note,” he said. “I didn’t really like the type of playoff game I had. I know it happens, but I thought I played probably my worst game of the season. I had my first penalty of the season, a block in the back on a pass to Vincent. I just really wasn’t able to catch any downfield passes. I could’ve easily had some game-changing plays, but didn’t capitalize.”
The reminder of one play, the pass he most wishes he could have back, is still with him every day. Across the Chargers locker room and line of scrimmage in practice, he sees veteran cornerback Donald Strickland, who was then with the Jets and personally foiled what might’ve been a 30-yard completion to Floyd in the third quarter of that postseason game.
It was a perfect kind of play for Floyd, one in which he was able to get both feet planted for his ascent to the pass. Strickland deftly got a hand up between Floyd’s arms, however, and managed to disrupt the reception.
“We’ve talked about it,” said Floyd, meaning him and Strickland. “I was like, ‘We probably would’ve won the game if you hadn’t knocked the ball away.’ We were both talking about getting Super Bowl rings, saying, ‘This is the year; this is the year.’ I said, ‘I’d probably have one already if you didn’t knock that ball down.’ ”
Making it all the more exasperating, Floyd had done so much throughout the regular season to elevate himself. The Chargers thought enough of his development that, albeit partly for off-field reasons, they gave veteran Chris Chambers his outright release and essentially replaced him with Floyd. With nine starts in the ensuing 10 games, Floyd had 36 catches, just three fewer receptions than Jackson and a better yards-per-catch average, with nine of those plays and 140 yards coming in the season finale against Washington.
Even if he wasn’t missing camp because of a contract holdout — and might be unavailable for the entire season — a suspension would keep Jackson from playing in the first three games. Clearly, a lot of the passes that would have been aimed at him will now be targeted at Floyd,
Floyd’s a different kind of 6-5 than Jackson, the former lithe and nimble, the latter more imposing and overpowering. Reliant on his speed and skills, Floyd goes about his business much more quietly, smooth almost to the point of elegance with his strides and leaps.
How fitting that his receivers coach is Charlie Joiner, possibly the quietest wideout in the Hall of Fame, somebody who Floyd calls “a humble man … a great man.” Theirs is a position with a considerable history of practitioners who constantly scream for more attention, turning end zones into theaters, changing their names mid-career, starring in self-focused reality shows. Outrageousness rules.
“This is not Malcom Floyd, not the person he wants to be,” Joiner said. “He’s not a big-ego guy. Everybody’s got a little ego to him, but Malcom doesn’t show it as much.”
Floyd almost blushed at Joiner’s words.
“Oh, I do have an ego,” Floyd said. “I just try not to use it until the ball is snapped.”
Floyd grew up watching a fairly expressive wide receiver who, not by coincidence, had a name almost identical to his. Malcolm Floyd, with two L’s in his first name, was a prep football star in Sacramento who went on to catch passes from Trent Dilfer at Fresno State and play four years with the Houston Oilers, Tennessee Titans and St. Louis Rams. He has a little brother named Malcom, with one L.
For nine years, Malcolm was the only child of James and Leataata Floyd. In an attempt to pre-empt any sibling jealousy with the approach of a second child, James gave Malcolm the responsibility of naming the newborn. And when Malcolm declared that it’d be nice to have a brother with the same name, the parents obliged, but did change the spelling by one letter.
“I’m 5-11, but I’m Big Malcolm,” said Malcolm the Elder. “He’s 6-5, but he’s Little Malcom.”
Little Malcom got much bigger while Big Malcolm was off in the NFL. Coming home one season’s end, Malcolm noticed the change in Malcom’s height, but it was only at the start of a pickup basketball game on a neighborhood court that he realized the change in his younger brother’s athleticism.
“We were on opposite teams,” Malcolm said. “They checked the ball and threw it in to him for an alley-oop right over me. I’m the professional athlete and my little brother’s dunking on me. I went, ‘Ohhhhh, man.’ ”
Malcom’s the professional athlete now, a seven-year veteran who’s made the gradual rise from undrafted free agent to practice player to special-teams regular to part-time receiver to starter to, perhaps, the ace of the bunch. Malcolm, meanwhile, is now a football coach at his high school alma mater who doesn’t have to think hard about giving his players a role model.
“I’m a lot older, but Malcom was a kid that I wanted to emulate, and still do,” said Malcolm. “As an old man, I say, ‘That’s what a person should be like. That’s what I want to be like.’ ”
glad to see he's gettin' some shine after all of his hard work and patience
It’s like he woke up one morning, the dawn of a summer day between eighth and ninth grades, and he was 6-foot 4. Nature can be so cruel to teenagers, but the view from all that new height wasn’t the hard part of the growth spurt for Malcom Floyd.
“I couldn’t jump,” he said. “Even though I was taller, there were a lot of my friends who dunked before me. I was like, ‘Aw, man, I’m gonna be one of those uncoordinated kids.’ ”
Clearly, he got over it. Way over it.
Floyd’s ability to reach an altitude well above NFL defensive backs — using not only his fully grown height of 6-foot-5, but also his 40-inch vertical leap and basketball-borne knack for beating everyone else to a football that’s up for grabs — has almost become his signature in the National Football League.
“Malcom loves to jump,” said his trainer, Todd Durkin, noting that Floyd has used his lift and wing span to touch a light nearly 13 feet in the air. “His vertical leap is 40 inches, but if a ball’s in the air, he’ll go 42 inches to get it.”
To this point, even while working so high off the ground, Floyd’s managed to maintain a low profile. No more. With the absence of Vincent Jackson, Floyd could be on the verge of a professional growth spurt, a major increase in his stature and role within the Chargers’ high-octane, pass-minded offense.
“I didn’t start to play until the last half of the season, so if I’m starting this regular season, I’ll get more opportunities and see more plays,” said Floyd, who had three receptions for 47 yards in his first-half stint Saturday night against the Cowboys. “There’ll be a lot more attention. Opponents might roll a safety over. But the best thing you can do is focus on your route, beating the guy you’re going against, trying to win all your battles and not focus on any of the other stuff.”
As much as he’s looking ahead to what appears to be his first season as Philip Rivers’ top target in the corps of wide receivers, Floyd isn’t beyond looking back, particularly since that’s where he’s found extra motivation for 2010. He’s clung to the bad memory of the Chargers being upset by the New York Jets in the playoffs, and specifically, his own part in the disappointment.
“I left off on a sour note,” he said. “I didn’t really like the type of playoff game I had. I know it happens, but I thought I played probably my worst game of the season. I had my first penalty of the season, a block in the back on a pass to Vincent. I just really wasn’t able to catch any downfield passes. I could’ve easily had some game-changing plays, but didn’t capitalize.”
The reminder of one play, the pass he most wishes he could have back, is still with him every day. Across the Chargers locker room and line of scrimmage in practice, he sees veteran cornerback Donald Strickland, who was then with the Jets and personally foiled what might’ve been a 30-yard completion to Floyd in the third quarter of that postseason game.
It was a perfect kind of play for Floyd, one in which he was able to get both feet planted for his ascent to the pass. Strickland deftly got a hand up between Floyd’s arms, however, and managed to disrupt the reception.
“We’ve talked about it,” said Floyd, meaning him and Strickland. “I was like, ‘We probably would’ve won the game if you hadn’t knocked the ball away.’ We were both talking about getting Super Bowl rings, saying, ‘This is the year; this is the year.’ I said, ‘I’d probably have one already if you didn’t knock that ball down.’ ”
Making it all the more exasperating, Floyd had done so much throughout the regular season to elevate himself. The Chargers thought enough of his development that, albeit partly for off-field reasons, they gave veteran Chris Chambers his outright release and essentially replaced him with Floyd. With nine starts in the ensuing 10 games, Floyd had 36 catches, just three fewer receptions than Jackson and a better yards-per-catch average, with nine of those plays and 140 yards coming in the season finale against Washington.
Even if he wasn’t missing camp because of a contract holdout — and might be unavailable for the entire season — a suspension would keep Jackson from playing in the first three games. Clearly, a lot of the passes that would have been aimed at him will now be targeted at Floyd,
Floyd’s a different kind of 6-5 than Jackson, the former lithe and nimble, the latter more imposing and overpowering. Reliant on his speed and skills, Floyd goes about his business much more quietly, smooth almost to the point of elegance with his strides and leaps.
How fitting that his receivers coach is Charlie Joiner, possibly the quietest wideout in the Hall of Fame, somebody who Floyd calls “a humble man … a great man.” Theirs is a position with a considerable history of practitioners who constantly scream for more attention, turning end zones into theaters, changing their names mid-career, starring in self-focused reality shows. Outrageousness rules.
“This is not Malcom Floyd, not the person he wants to be,” Joiner said. “He’s not a big-ego guy. Everybody’s got a little ego to him, but Malcom doesn’t show it as much.”
Floyd almost blushed at Joiner’s words.
“Oh, I do have an ego,” Floyd said. “I just try not to use it until the ball is snapped.”
Floyd grew up watching a fairly expressive wide receiver who, not by coincidence, had a name almost identical to his. Malcolm Floyd, with two L’s in his first name, was a prep football star in Sacramento who went on to catch passes from Trent Dilfer at Fresno State and play four years with the Houston Oilers, Tennessee Titans and St. Louis Rams. He has a little brother named Malcom, with one L.
For nine years, Malcolm was the only child of James and Leataata Floyd. In an attempt to pre-empt any sibling jealousy with the approach of a second child, James gave Malcolm the responsibility of naming the newborn. And when Malcolm declared that it’d be nice to have a brother with the same name, the parents obliged, but did change the spelling by one letter.
“I’m 5-11, but I’m Big Malcolm,” said Malcolm the Elder. “He’s 6-5, but he’s Little Malcom.”
Little Malcom got much bigger while Big Malcolm was off in the NFL. Coming home one season’s end, Malcolm noticed the change in Malcom’s height, but it was only at the start of a pickup basketball game on a neighborhood court that he realized the change in his younger brother’s athleticism.
“We were on opposite teams,” Malcolm said. “They checked the ball and threw it in to him for an alley-oop right over me. I’m the professional athlete and my little brother’s dunking on me. I went, ‘Ohhhhh, man.’ ”
Malcom’s the professional athlete now, a seven-year veteran who’s made the gradual rise from undrafted free agent to practice player to special-teams regular to part-time receiver to starter to, perhaps, the ace of the bunch. Malcolm, meanwhile, is now a football coach at his high school alma mater who doesn’t have to think hard about giving his players a role model.
“I’m a lot older, but Malcom was a kid that I wanted to emulate, and still do,” said Malcolm. “As an old man, I say, ‘That’s what a person should be like. That’s what I want to be like.’ ”
