RAMSEY: AFA needs general Lee, like BYU's Cummard

Air Force needs a leader. Air Force needs a Lee Cummard.

Cummard is the undisputed boss at BYU, and his teammates followed him to a 71-50 stomping of Air Force on Tuesday night at Clune Arena.

Give the Falcons credit. They did, for a few minutes, make it interesting.

With 11 minutes left, Air Force grabbed a 45-43 lead and Clune fans began to roar.

This brief slice of happiness made sense. Fans had waited a long time for something - anything - to cheer about.

But all the Falcons rally did is grab Cummard's attention. When the Falcons caught the Cougars, Cummard gathered his teammates and commanded them to "get aggressive."

Cummard, a 6-foot-7 senior, and the Cougars rampaged for the next 10 minutes. BYU sprinted to a 26-3 run and buried the Falcons.

For the Cougars, it was a dazzling rally. For the Falcons, it was a devastating collapse.

On the night, Cummard scored 12 points, grabbed 10 rebounds and shared three assists. (He deserved at least another three assists.)

He's not an imposing physical presence. Cummard, skinny to the extreme, looks more nerdy than mighty.

But he can play. He was named the Mountain West Conference's co-Player of the Year in 2007-08. He beats you in so many ways. He's a superb shooter, rebounder, passer and defender.

Yet his most effective weapon is his competitiveness. His teammates say they've never met a player who hates to lose more than Cummard. They admire the nasty, must-win attitude he brings to the most trivial of basketball chores.

Cummard is not so great at making friends on the road. At halftime of Tuesday's game, I talked with several Air Force fans, and they all griped about Cummard.

He's pushing, they said. He's grabbing. He's whining to the refs.

But here's the thing to remember about Cummard: He expertly employs all his irritating traits to seize victories.

Used to be, Air Force boasted a wealth of players in the Cummard mold. Jake Burtschi made few, if any, friends on the road during his four-season career with the Falcons.

Burtschi knew all the tricks. He flopped to earn charging calls. He messed with his opponents' brains. He inspired thousands of fans to boo him. It was a lot of fun to watch.

He thirsted for victory so much he would do anything within the legal limit to avoid defeat.

Those were the days. This edition of the Falcons is too restrained, too polite and, well, too likeable. When the Falcons take their act on the road, fans don't despise them. They pity them.

It's late in the season, and I'm getting the feeling the Falcons won't be traveling to the NCAA Tournament.

But it's not too late to play with a renewed sense of rage.

It's not too late to quit playing friendly basketball and start playing with the always irritating, and always effective, ruthlessness of Lee Cummard.