Philippi Sparks
(by BILL BARNWELL)
Growing up a fan of the Giants in the
mid-nineties was a tough gig. Now, I understand that a lot of teams run
through cold spells and don’t really have much to offer in the way of
success. That’s okay. I could’ve easily fallen for a crappy team. Those
Giants, however, were doubly unfortunate – not only did they suck, but
they managed to be the blandest suck that ever sucked. While Rippa, I’m
sure, will be happy to wax nostalgic about the halcyon days of Rodney
Hampton gaining eight yards on three downs before the Giants so
mercifully punted, there was a lot to utterly despise.
After the retirement of Phil Simms, the Giants wavered between the
three-headed quarterback hydra of Dave Brown (mmm..supplemental draft),
Kent Graham, and Danny Kanell – as if having a pasty quarterback with
no arm strength would lead them to two Super Bowl victories or
something. Oh – right. Sorry Ed. The Giants were also kind enough to
grant this gathered mass of mediocrity with a group of receivers whose
lack of competence absolutely boggles the mind. Chris Calloway – whose
assassination I am sure Rippa is still plotting – technically led the
group, but to describe him as a #1 receiver is to imply some sort of
superiority or skill which I can only attempt to dissuade by mentioning
his inability to perform anything related to football in what I would
describe as a fashion suitable to that of a #1 receiver. In short, he
was a #1 receiver like Todd Pinkston was last year. He wasn’t joined by
much either – after the Giants let Ed McCaffrey go, they didn’t develop
a reliable #2 receiver until drafting Ike Hilliard. I’m looking at you
in anger, Thomas Lewis. With the Giants not doing much on offense, they
were kept in games by that traditional Giant mode of attack – no, not
rape – defense. And the pillar of the defensive backfield for those
Giant teams was cornerback Philippi Sparks. 
Now, even at this very young age,
I could generally tell whether a player was good or not – judging from
performance, what the announcers thought of him (which obviously has
been removed from my repertoire), and video game ratings. The latter
played the biggest role. Somehow, I have never been able to figure out
whether Philippi Sparks was actually good or not. I am inclined to say
yes, but I really have no evidence to offer you beyond the fact that I
want to believe that he was good for a period of time. I suppose I
could point to the ’93-’97 Giants, when Sparks was the team’s top
corner (i.e. before the Jason-Sehorn-can-play era), the team finished
12th, 7th, 4th, 14th, and 27th (well, not every analysis is perfect) in
passing yards against. Maybe something with that had to do with
Philippi Sparks. I’m not sure. I only really wrote this because I was
happy that I could spell Philippi right on the first try.
But OH my, what has Philippi been
doing since he left football? Well – first off – he is selling you
Labrador puppies. For anywhere from $600-$800, YOU can own a legitimate
offspring of Tahoe and Nomi Sparks. If you want to name it Conrad
Hamilton, I imagine Mr. Sparks wouldn’t take too kindly to it. Second,
Philippi’s daughter, Jordin, is a bit of a princess. She was the
featured vocalist at Pat Tillman’s Memorial Service at ASU (where
Sparks and Tillman attended college), and her happiest moments were
“…making my first CD and getting my braces off!”. Her album drops soon.
Finally, Philippi and his wife are now shilling “Tahitian Noni”, which
is apparently a panacea. I’d advise you check out all the links and
discover for yourself the marketing monolith that is Philippi Sparks.
Jordin Sparks is a diva
Phillippi Sparks sells Labrador puppies
I’m not even sure what relates to this
but it’s a Philippi project