I am not going to be posting for the next several weeks. I'll be working for the Milwaukee Bucks during the NBA Playoffs so there will be no posts from me until the season ends. The other bloggers can post at their own leisure and topics may get off the mantle of sports.
Thank you for your endless support and we look forward to seeing you in the future.
The best of everything,
Nick
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Realizations
Take Me Out To The Slow Lane
It’s April in America, which must mean one thing. Yep, sports highlights all over the country are about to get extremely boring and repetitive. It’s baseball season, AGAIN. At the risk of alienating myself from my fellow columnists more than I already have, (I still don’t see the problem with urinating on a public street during the day) I must let my thoughts be known.
Baseball is not sophisticated, it is not exciting and just because I don’t enjoy it, doesn’t mean I “don’t get it”. I don’t like Chinese food, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get it. I don’t have many friends who would claim baseball as their favorite sport. I suppose that could be true for a number of reasons, but mainly because I favor those who are not drawing social security or who don’t have to rely on Depends whenever leaving the house. My closest friends who do claim baseball as their favorite sport are without a doubt, Cubs fans. This is not a coincidence. It gives me an advantage in their lives. There is nothing I could ever do to disappoint them.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy attending a baseball game every now and then. Any place that will bring me a beer without me having to actually exert any energy or wait in any sort of line is a good place to me. No, my main problem with baseball is the people that run it and the fans who think that because they know what a double-switch is, it somehow makes them intellectually superior to the rest of the universe. The fans who recite batting averages and team era like it validates the fact that their sport requires a “stretching session” just to make sure that the people in the ballpark are still awake.
Bud Selig? Really? Could he have done a worse job? Please do not feed me this nonsense about how he has become an innovator for the sport. Bud did not create the Wild Card. Last I heard, playing copy-cat to the NFL does not qualify you as some sort of creative genius.
The All-star game now dictates which league has home field advantage in the World Series. What a complete joke. A game Bud once upon a time let end in a tie, now virtually punishes a team who could realistically have the best record in baseball. But, I digress.
Baseball is boring. Baseball is slow. Baseball does not have as much strategy as purists would like non-purists to believe. I refuse to be fascinated by the fact that with two outs and a full count, the runners will be put in motion. Wow, I can’t wrap my brain around that. They have less to lose than my grandma playing penny slots on Fremont Street.
I must let the cat out of the bag and admit that I was not born and raised in a city or state that has a professional baseball team. Perhaps this has a lot to do with my lack of interest. I was not force-fed baseball as a kid. I played little league like everyone else, but was not anywhere near the level of CTB with the sunflower seed chewing or the mom schmoozing. I made a few trips a year to visit my Aunt and Uncle in Akron, Ohio. Enough to call myself an Indians fan from visiting Jacob’s Field. I don’t recall the new corporate name of the ballpark… remember, those people are losers.
Baseball fans, I’m okay with you as long as you keep from trying to explain yourself. Bring yourself back down to earth. You are not what you once were, but there is nothing wrong with that… just as long as you don’t pretend that you are. Enjoy your sport. I salute you, as long as you leave me alone.
It’s April in America, which must mean one thing. Yep, sports highlights all over the country are about to get extremely boring and repetitive. It’s baseball season, AGAIN. At the risk of alienating myself from my fellow columnists more than I already have, (I still don’t see the problem with urinating on a public street during the day) I must let my thoughts be known.
Baseball is not sophisticated, it is not exciting and just because I don’t enjoy it, doesn’t mean I “don’t get it”. I don’t like Chinese food, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get it. I don’t have many friends who would claim baseball as their favorite sport. I suppose that could be true for a number of reasons, but mainly because I favor those who are not drawing social security or who don’t have to rely on Depends whenever leaving the house. My closest friends who do claim baseball as their favorite sport are without a doubt, Cubs fans. This is not a coincidence. It gives me an advantage in their lives. There is nothing I could ever do to disappoint them.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy attending a baseball game every now and then. Any place that will bring me a beer without me having to actually exert any energy or wait in any sort of line is a good place to me. No, my main problem with baseball is the people that run it and the fans who think that because they know what a double-switch is, it somehow makes them intellectually superior to the rest of the universe. The fans who recite batting averages and team era like it validates the fact that their sport requires a “stretching session” just to make sure that the people in the ballpark are still awake.
Bud Selig? Really? Could he have done a worse job? Please do not feed me this nonsense about how he has become an innovator for the sport. Bud did not create the Wild Card. Last I heard, playing copy-cat to the NFL does not qualify you as some sort of creative genius.
The All-star game now dictates which league has home field advantage in the World Series. What a complete joke. A game Bud once upon a time let end in a tie, now virtually punishes a team who could realistically have the best record in baseball. But, I digress.
Baseball is boring. Baseball is slow. Baseball does not have as much strategy as purists would like non-purists to believe. I refuse to be fascinated by the fact that with two outs and a full count, the runners will be put in motion. Wow, I can’t wrap my brain around that. They have less to lose than my grandma playing penny slots on Fremont Street.
I must let the cat out of the bag and admit that I was not born and raised in a city or state that has a professional baseball team. Perhaps this has a lot to do with my lack of interest. I was not force-fed baseball as a kid. I played little league like everyone else, but was not anywhere near the level of CTB with the sunflower seed chewing or the mom schmoozing. I made a few trips a year to visit my Aunt and Uncle in Akron, Ohio. Enough to call myself an Indians fan from visiting Jacob’s Field. I don’t recall the new corporate name of the ballpark… remember, those people are losers.
Baseball fans, I’m okay with you as long as you keep from trying to explain yourself. Bring yourself back down to earth. You are not what you once were, but there is nothing wrong with that… just as long as you don’t pretend that you are. Enjoy your sport. I salute you, as long as you leave me alone.
Monday, April 13, 2009
AMusings
I know that I wait 6 months every year for baseball season to make its grand return. It then takes approximately 24 hours for me to hate everyone associated with the sport. Fans, players, reporters, fans, coaches, fans, owners, umpires, fans, etc. Just within this first week of baseball I have seen and heard the following things that have lead me to believe that either the baseball gods hate me, or that everyone who is involved in the great American pastime possesses an IQ below 10:
- An ESPN segment on the “biggest surprises so far”. This took place on Friday morning. Most teams had played 3 games. 3 games. How surprising can you be with 159 games left to go? More so, doesn’t Tim Kurkijan have anything else to do than tell me what he’s surprised about after one series of baseball?
- A caller call in to a radio show here in Chicago telling the hosts that he hopes “the Cubs can just win 2 out of every 3 games this season”. For those of you who may not have your abacuses nearby, that would be a final record of 108-54. Isn’t that a little unrealistic? If you’re rooting for your team to win 108 games, why not just root for 162-0? If every team had the ability to win 108 games every year, why have only two teams done it in the last ten years?
- When Jim Thome hit the game winning home run on Tuesday for the White Sox, I saw no less than 6 facebook statuses that read something like “haha Cubs, White Sox win” or “White Sox win, I hope the Cubs lose”. Listen, I’m a Cubs fan, but I don’t care what the Sox do. Why would you, as a “fan” of a certain team, care what another team does? I don’t know if this is something that only goes on in the windy city, but I will never understand it.
- Several people either on the radio, on the internet, or in person tell me that Kevin Gregg is no good as a Cubs closer after blowing the save Friday in Milwaukee. He has blown one save. One. Anyone looking at the National League central is probably picking the Cubs to win, and not by a close margin either. One blown save will not amount to a problem. Give him time. How much time? Maybe more than a week.
Here’s all I’m trying to say to you baseball fans out there; baseball season is 6 months long. Every team has the opportunity of playing 162 games. This is not football. 1 loss does not make a difference. Every game is not the end of the world. Please, if you have any sense of decency or the ability to think, start thinking about what you’re saying before you say it. I know everyone is excited about the game returning, but relax. You’ll never make to October if you’re having heart attacks in April.
- An ESPN segment on the “biggest surprises so far”. This took place on Friday morning. Most teams had played 3 games. 3 games. How surprising can you be with 159 games left to go? More so, doesn’t Tim Kurkijan have anything else to do than tell me what he’s surprised about after one series of baseball?
- A caller call in to a radio show here in Chicago telling the hosts that he hopes “the Cubs can just win 2 out of every 3 games this season”. For those of you who may not have your abacuses nearby, that would be a final record of 108-54. Isn’t that a little unrealistic? If you’re rooting for your team to win 108 games, why not just root for 162-0? If every team had the ability to win 108 games every year, why have only two teams done it in the last ten years?
- When Jim Thome hit the game winning home run on Tuesday for the White Sox, I saw no less than 6 facebook statuses that read something like “haha Cubs, White Sox win” or “White Sox win, I hope the Cubs lose”. Listen, I’m a Cubs fan, but I don’t care what the Sox do. Why would you, as a “fan” of a certain team, care what another team does? I don’t know if this is something that only goes on in the windy city, but I will never understand it.
- Several people either on the radio, on the internet, or in person tell me that Kevin Gregg is no good as a Cubs closer after blowing the save Friday in Milwaukee. He has blown one save. One. Anyone looking at the National League central is probably picking the Cubs to win, and not by a close margin either. One blown save will not amount to a problem. Give him time. How much time? Maybe more than a week.
Here’s all I’m trying to say to you baseball fans out there; baseball season is 6 months long. Every team has the opportunity of playing 162 games. This is not football. 1 loss does not make a difference. Every game is not the end of the world. Please, if you have any sense of decency or the ability to think, start thinking about what you’re saying before you say it. I know everyone is excited about the game returning, but relax. You’ll never make to October if you’re having heart attacks in April.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Friday Night Lights
A Cold Day in Minnesota
Ahhh, birds chirping, sun shining, days getting longer, young love in the air, local bookmakers avoiding the IRS and its April 15th henchmen. Springtime is here, which means that baseball season is upon us. By us, of course, I mean residents of the West Coast, the Sun Belt, and south Florida. While baseball season may have arrived in the Midwest and Northeast, baseball weather is a couple weeks away.
Teams like Milwaukee and Toronto with the foresight to put roofs on their modern-day cold-weather cathedrals should be commended. The Cubs can be forgiven – retractable roofs weren’t exactly en vogue at the turn of the century. Less sympathy should be extended to the Indians, who were outplayed in their chilly, and fairly new, outdoor venue by a scrappy Marlins squad of mercenaries who took the World Series title home to Miami about a decade ago.
But what advice do you give to a team in a colder climate than all of the above, a team that plays under a Teflon roof and is currently constructing a new open-air stadium sans cover?
Well, you address the Minnesota Twins with, “typical.” Or “standard,” depending on your choice of vocabulary.
The 2009 season is the last campaign of domed goodness in Minnesota. In 2010, the club will relocate a mile down 5th Avenue in downtown Minneapolis to Target Field, a new stadium built almost adjacent to Target Center, and yes, right down the street from Target’s headquarters. In an ironic twist of fate, both the baseball team and the mega-corporation have encouraged their customers to “Expect More” while “Pay(ing) Less”.
Fans “expect more” of a game-day atmosphere in June, July and August with the new palace, an edifice which is at least fifteen years in the making. Unfortunately, former owner (and formerly alive) Carl Pohlad decided to “pay less” and let taxpayers shoulder the majority of the bill for construction of his ballpark. Excesses were removed and sacrifices were made in constructing this downtown diamond, which will have no roof, retractable or otherwise. The stadium is being erected on the smallest site in Major League Baseball (smaller than Fenway or Wrigley) – there simply isn’t enough space for the roof to be added.
At this point, it’s probably time to start examining the tradeoffs we make in order to have baseball in the heart of the city. Minnesota is a cold, cold place – I’ve seen snow in May – but climate trends make for dreary, cool Aprils. When the weather warms up, massive thunderstorms come along for the ride, and threaten the Heartland until August. September can be the perfect month, until October approaches and Canada gifts us cold air masses.
Basically, we live in a year-long weather nightmare. The short-sightedness of the urban planners and the team in accepting a stadium without a roof will have short-term and long-term repercussions. Games will be rescheduled, then rescheduled, and rescheduled again. Fans will turn out in droves from May 15 to September 15, but two months of home dates will have far fewer fans than would attend competition in a stadium with a roof. The “hearty Midwesterners” the team is banking on are fewer and further between, replaced by transplants from places like Texas and Georgia that will find better things to do in our cosmopolitan metropolis than freeze in a downtown stadium conveniently located next to a regional trash incinerator.
So what do you say to the team? Well, maybe it’s a good thing they haven’t torn down the Metrodome already.
Ahhh, birds chirping, sun shining, days getting longer, young love in the air, local bookmakers avoiding the IRS and its April 15th henchmen. Springtime is here, which means that baseball season is upon us. By us, of course, I mean residents of the West Coast, the Sun Belt, and south Florida. While baseball season may have arrived in the Midwest and Northeast, baseball weather is a couple weeks away.
Teams like Milwaukee and Toronto with the foresight to put roofs on their modern-day cold-weather cathedrals should be commended. The Cubs can be forgiven – retractable roofs weren’t exactly en vogue at the turn of the century. Less sympathy should be extended to the Indians, who were outplayed in their chilly, and fairly new, outdoor venue by a scrappy Marlins squad of mercenaries who took the World Series title home to Miami about a decade ago.
But what advice do you give to a team in a colder climate than all of the above, a team that plays under a Teflon roof and is currently constructing a new open-air stadium sans cover?
Well, you address the Minnesota Twins with, “typical.” Or “standard,” depending on your choice of vocabulary.
The 2009 season is the last campaign of domed goodness in Minnesota. In 2010, the club will relocate a mile down 5th Avenue in downtown Minneapolis to Target Field, a new stadium built almost adjacent to Target Center, and yes, right down the street from Target’s headquarters. In an ironic twist of fate, both the baseball team and the mega-corporation have encouraged their customers to “Expect More” while “Pay(ing) Less”.
Fans “expect more” of a game-day atmosphere in June, July and August with the new palace, an edifice which is at least fifteen years in the making. Unfortunately, former owner (and formerly alive) Carl Pohlad decided to “pay less” and let taxpayers shoulder the majority of the bill for construction of his ballpark. Excesses were removed and sacrifices were made in constructing this downtown diamond, which will have no roof, retractable or otherwise. The stadium is being erected on the smallest site in Major League Baseball (smaller than Fenway or Wrigley) – there simply isn’t enough space for the roof to be added.
At this point, it’s probably time to start examining the tradeoffs we make in order to have baseball in the heart of the city. Minnesota is a cold, cold place – I’ve seen snow in May – but climate trends make for dreary, cool Aprils. When the weather warms up, massive thunderstorms come along for the ride, and threaten the Heartland until August. September can be the perfect month, until October approaches and Canada gifts us cold air masses.
Basically, we live in a year-long weather nightmare. The short-sightedness of the urban planners and the team in accepting a stadium without a roof will have short-term and long-term repercussions. Games will be rescheduled, then rescheduled, and rescheduled again. Fans will turn out in droves from May 15 to September 15, but two months of home dates will have far fewer fans than would attend competition in a stadium with a roof. The “hearty Midwesterners” the team is banking on are fewer and further between, replaced by transplants from places like Texas and Georgia that will find better things to do in our cosmopolitan metropolis than freeze in a downtown stadium conveniently located next to a regional trash incinerator.
So what do you say to the team? Well, maybe it’s a good thing they haven’t torn down the Metrodome already.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Cousin Bink's Country Beer Jamboree
Volume 1, Issue 8
When I imagine going to a Major League Baseball game I picture the sun shining. I picture having to take out a small business loan to get a few cold refreshments. I picture coming home with a little sunburn on my arms and legs. I plan on witnessing a live chicken being sacrificed so Jobu will let the Cuban hit a curveball.
What I don't enjoy is thinking about going to baseball games where I'll have to decide how many stocking hats I should wear, not whether or not I should wear one. That is what happened this week on Opening Day as two games had to be canceled for a day due to the weather, while many games were played in cold and wet conditions. Let's take a closer look at these games, shall we:
Push the start of the season back a week? Well, considering that would push the playoffs back a week and the World Series had to be postponed for 2 days this past year that wouldn't work. But looking at the weather for opening day, there is a solution. We'll do this by league, starting with the senior circuit. There are 5 teams in the west, but Colorado's a bit iffy this time of year, so we'll say we have four teams. Houston and Milwaukee have domes, so that makes 6. Moving onto the east where we have Florida, Atlanta, and I guess you'll have to hope for Washington to have some nice weather. That makes 8 teams that should have good weather so for the first 2 weeks have these cities host home games.
Moving to the AL you have the four teams in the AL West. In Minnesota, Tampa and Toronto you have domes and once again we have 7, which is all we need for 14 teams and you can do the same thing, starting the first two weeks in these cities.
Now this is in noway a full-proof plan. I went to a game last year on April 26th that was delayed for 3 hours due to cold weather and a snow/rain mix, but this is just a way to improve Opening Day, not to get rid of delays completely.
When I imagine going to a Major League Baseball game I picture the sun shining. I picture having to take out a small business loan to get a few cold refreshments. I picture coming home with a little sunburn on my arms and legs. I plan on witnessing a live chicken being sacrificed so Jobu will let the Cuban hit a curveball.
What I don't enjoy is thinking about going to baseball games where I'll have to decide how many stocking hats I should wear, not whether or not I should wear one. That is what happened this week on Opening Day as two games had to be canceled for a day due to the weather, while many games were played in cold and wet conditions. Let's take a closer look at these games, shall we:
- Kansas City at Chicago- Game postponed 18 hours before game due to forecasts of snow and freezing temperatures.
- Tampa Bay at Boston- Postponed for rain.
- New York (N) at Cincinnati- 37 degrees and light rains throughout.
- Cleveland at Texas- 49 degrees and sunny
- New York (A) at Baltimore- 56 degrees with light rain
- Colorado at Arizona- 80 degrees with roof closed
- Detroit at Toronto- 66 degrees with roof closed
- Washington at Florida- 90 degrees and partly cloudy (now that's more like it)
- Pittsburgh at St. Louis- 42 degrees and cloudy
- Seattle at Minnesota- 69 degrees, in a dome
- Oakland at LA Angels- 75 degrees and clear
- Cubs at Houston- 68 degrees with roof closed
- LA Dodgers at San Diego- 75 degrees and sunny
Push the start of the season back a week? Well, considering that would push the playoffs back a week and the World Series had to be postponed for 2 days this past year that wouldn't work. But looking at the weather for opening day, there is a solution. We'll do this by league, starting with the senior circuit. There are 5 teams in the west, but Colorado's a bit iffy this time of year, so we'll say we have four teams. Houston and Milwaukee have domes, so that makes 6. Moving onto the east where we have Florida, Atlanta, and I guess you'll have to hope for Washington to have some nice weather. That makes 8 teams that should have good weather so for the first 2 weeks have these cities host home games.
Moving to the AL you have the four teams in the AL West. In Minnesota, Tampa and Toronto you have domes and once again we have 7, which is all we need for 14 teams and you can do the same thing, starting the first two weeks in these cities.
Now this is in noway a full-proof plan. I went to a game last year on April 26th that was delayed for 3 hours due to cold weather and a snow/rain mix, but this is just a way to improve Opening Day, not to get rid of delays completely.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Smoke Break
When I first fully immersed myself in baseball, the biggest concern was getting a good number for your Little League jersey. I wore jersey number 9. Now the number 9, as in a 9 p.m. start for west coast games upsets my sleep schedule for the rest of the week.
It’s funny how your perception of a certain sport changes over time.
Growing up, the Oakland Athletics were the lead villains in the theatre of the diamond. Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco were the sluggers getting big on the same workout routine, prayer sessions and Flintstone Vitamins that Hulk Hogan used to create his chiseled frame.
Now I know Canseco and McGwire were injecting some of those Flintstones Vitamins into their Bedrocks. The vitamins might have helped them Bam-Bam the ball, but those injections also shrunk their Barney Rubbles.
Pudge was a nickname given to a great all-around catcher. The man behind the plate had a rocket for an arm (don’t confuse that with Jay Buhner) and one with a direct line to the baseball gods. How else could anyone wave a homerun ball into fair territory?
Given the nickname “Pudge” as a twenty-something baseball fan and you should probably take more swings in the batting cage and less Sliders in the dugout.
Randy Johnson has been “The Big Unit,” throughout my entire life. In intermediate school he was an intimidating, dominating pitcher whose greatest asset was his fastball, followed by his presence on the mound.
He still remains an intimidating pitcher, but now I realize he won’t have to go on the card show circuit when he retires. Royalties from the use of his nickname in adult movies will make him a rich man for a long time.
Slump busters…well slump busters still mean the same thing.
Chris Berman was this neat big man who cleverly mixed “Three Stooges” sound effects in when anyone would bobble a ball in the infield. How fun it was to see this red-faced man, busting with excitement and high cholesterol work into a fervor and yell, “Back, back bac, bac bac, back,” as someone hit a homerun.
Now Chris Berman is the obnoxious big man who refused to leave the ESPN Never Land of the mid 1990’s and still uses the same folksy catchphrases. I later learned his face is not red from excitement over McLemore, Mark but Maker’s Mark. Leather, you’re still with him.
The Ryan Express explained the dominance of Mr. Nolan, the greatest strikeout pitchers of all-time.
Today, I venture to guess that Mrs. Ryan was undoubtedly late even if she jumped on the Ryan Express at the right time.
Even amidst shifting perceptions of baseball, there are some things that still hold true after all these years. John Kruk is fat, Vin Scully is the best voice of the game and Ron Santo chooses to ignore the importance of paying attention. It hasn’t changed my love affair with the game. It’s always good to see an old friend.
Welcome back baseball.
It’s funny how your perception of a certain sport changes over time.
Growing up, the Oakland Athletics were the lead villains in the theatre of the diamond. Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco were the sluggers getting big on the same workout routine, prayer sessions and Flintstone Vitamins that Hulk Hogan used to create his chiseled frame.
Now I know Canseco and McGwire were injecting some of those Flintstones Vitamins into their Bedrocks. The vitamins might have helped them Bam-Bam the ball, but those injections also shrunk their Barney Rubbles.
Pudge was a nickname given to a great all-around catcher. The man behind the plate had a rocket for an arm (don’t confuse that with Jay Buhner) and one with a direct line to the baseball gods. How else could anyone wave a homerun ball into fair territory?
Given the nickname “Pudge” as a twenty-something baseball fan and you should probably take more swings in the batting cage and less Sliders in the dugout.
Randy Johnson has been “The Big Unit,” throughout my entire life. In intermediate school he was an intimidating, dominating pitcher whose greatest asset was his fastball, followed by his presence on the mound.
He still remains an intimidating pitcher, but now I realize he won’t have to go on the card show circuit when he retires. Royalties from the use of his nickname in adult movies will make him a rich man for a long time.
Slump busters…well slump busters still mean the same thing.
Chris Berman was this neat big man who cleverly mixed “Three Stooges” sound effects in when anyone would bobble a ball in the infield. How fun it was to see this red-faced man, busting with excitement and high cholesterol work into a fervor and yell, “Back, back bac, bac bac, back,” as someone hit a homerun.
Now Chris Berman is the obnoxious big man who refused to leave the ESPN Never Land of the mid 1990’s and still uses the same folksy catchphrases. I later learned his face is not red from excitement over McLemore, Mark but Maker’s Mark. Leather, you’re still with him.
The Ryan Express explained the dominance of Mr. Nolan, the greatest strikeout pitchers of all-time.
Today, I venture to guess that Mrs. Ryan was undoubtedly late even if she jumped on the Ryan Express at the right time.
Even amidst shifting perceptions of baseball, there are some things that still hold true after all these years. John Kruk is fat, Vin Scully is the best voice of the game and Ron Santo chooses to ignore the importance of paying attention. It hasn’t changed my love affair with the game. It’s always good to see an old friend.
Welcome back baseball.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Realizations
One Shining Moment
There are three things that make me openly cry whenever I watch them on TV. The first being the final episode of Saved By The Bell when Zack must participate in the Bayside Ballet in order to obtain his final credit for graduation. Hugging Mr. Belding at the end and thanking all of his friends, it touches my soul. The second thing that makes me cry every time I watch it is when I see Mufasa get trampled by the stampede of wilderbeast in the Lion King. Forcing poor baby Simba to take on his evil uncle Scar all by himself… tragic. The third and final thing that makes me cry every time I watch it is taking place tonight (last night for you readers). One Shining Moment. The anthem of college basketball. Every year at the conclusion of the tournament, CBS puts together a highlight reel from tournament and sets it to the music of One Shining Moment. Written by David Barrett and performed by such artists as Teddy Pendergrass and Luther Vandross, the song One Shining Moment symbolizes everything that is good and right about sports.
The song debuted in 1987, the year Keith Smart was left open on the baseline and the Hoosiers added banner number five to the rafters of Assembly Hall. Ever since then it has been the staple of the NCAA Tournament. Clips of kids diving for loose balls, sulking in agony after being defeated at the buzzer and celebrating with incredible joy after pulling off an epic upset. Every kid openly admits to wanting to be in that video.
The majority of the athletes that have competed in this tournament and all of the tournaments in the past do not go on to become professionals. There are no shoe contracts, no commercials and no V.I.P. treatment at local restaurants and clubs. This is their one moment to be a part of history. This is their One Shining Moment.
College sports will forever be my favorite over anything professional. The reason is quite simple. Every time I watch college athletics I am reminded why sports became such a big part of my life in the first place. Kids giving everything they have for one reason, the pure love of the game they play. Representing their schools and showcasing them to entire nation. One Shining Moment gets it. It is a snapshot of everything great about sports and competition. No one is mailing it in because they just inked their big contract or because they want to secure their spot at the top of next year’s draft lottery.
Maybe I’m getting older, losing some of my energy or maybe I’m just now realizing that when it comes down to it, I am not a big fan of people. Whatever the case may be, the fact remains that I am losing interest in the logistics of sports, the business side and everything negative that comes with it. Some people take pride in being able recite contract figures, who has what agent and the correct corporate names of stadiums and arenas around the country. I call those people losers.
This year more than ever I am going to let the song sink in as I watch the highlights. I am in denial that almost every player in college athletics is younger than me. Sam Young could get the senior citizen discount at my local golf course if he showed up for a tee time. But, it is this same reflection that is forcing me to take a much more enjoyable approach to my sports watching.
Make it pure. Make it fun. Work your butt off on the court and on the field. May the best team win and shake hands after it’s over. Show emotion and passion. I am not naïve enough to think that the business of sports is not important. Money must exchange hands in anything successful. But, for four minutes every year I will allow myself the pleasure of getting back to the basics. Getting back to the love of the game and the love of sports. It makes me feel like I’m alive…
There are three things that make me openly cry whenever I watch them on TV. The first being the final episode of Saved By The Bell when Zack must participate in the Bayside Ballet in order to obtain his final credit for graduation. Hugging Mr. Belding at the end and thanking all of his friends, it touches my soul. The second thing that makes me cry every time I watch it is when I see Mufasa get trampled by the stampede of wilderbeast in the Lion King. Forcing poor baby Simba to take on his evil uncle Scar all by himself… tragic. The third and final thing that makes me cry every time I watch it is taking place tonight (last night for you readers). One Shining Moment. The anthem of college basketball. Every year at the conclusion of the tournament, CBS puts together a highlight reel from tournament and sets it to the music of One Shining Moment. Written by David Barrett and performed by such artists as Teddy Pendergrass and Luther Vandross, the song One Shining Moment symbolizes everything that is good and right about sports.
The song debuted in 1987, the year Keith Smart was left open on the baseline and the Hoosiers added banner number five to the rafters of Assembly Hall. Ever since then it has been the staple of the NCAA Tournament. Clips of kids diving for loose balls, sulking in agony after being defeated at the buzzer and celebrating with incredible joy after pulling off an epic upset. Every kid openly admits to wanting to be in that video.
The majority of the athletes that have competed in this tournament and all of the tournaments in the past do not go on to become professionals. There are no shoe contracts, no commercials and no V.I.P. treatment at local restaurants and clubs. This is their one moment to be a part of history. This is their One Shining Moment.
College sports will forever be my favorite over anything professional. The reason is quite simple. Every time I watch college athletics I am reminded why sports became such a big part of my life in the first place. Kids giving everything they have for one reason, the pure love of the game they play. Representing their schools and showcasing them to entire nation. One Shining Moment gets it. It is a snapshot of everything great about sports and competition. No one is mailing it in because they just inked their big contract or because they want to secure their spot at the top of next year’s draft lottery.
Maybe I’m getting older, losing some of my energy or maybe I’m just now realizing that when it comes down to it, I am not a big fan of people. Whatever the case may be, the fact remains that I am losing interest in the logistics of sports, the business side and everything negative that comes with it. Some people take pride in being able recite contract figures, who has what agent and the correct corporate names of stadiums and arenas around the country. I call those people losers.
This year more than ever I am going to let the song sink in as I watch the highlights. I am in denial that almost every player in college athletics is younger than me. Sam Young could get the senior citizen discount at my local golf course if he showed up for a tee time. But, it is this same reflection that is forcing me to take a much more enjoyable approach to my sports watching.
Make it pure. Make it fun. Work your butt off on the court and on the field. May the best team win and shake hands after it’s over. Show emotion and passion. I am not naïve enough to think that the business of sports is not important. Money must exchange hands in anything successful. But, for four minutes every year I will allow myself the pleasure of getting back to the basics. Getting back to the love of the game and the love of sports. It makes me feel like I’m alive…
Monday, April 6, 2009
AMusings
Welcome to opening day! Many people say that Christmas is their favorite holiday, others enjoy the fourth of July, some even vote for Thanksgiving. Not I. My favorite holiday is today. It is the beginning of a new baseball season. 6 months of unadulterated bliss are ahead of us. Every major league team (even my Pittsburgh Pirates) are in the running.
What we do know from experience is that all of these teams will not remain in the running for too long. As a matter of fact, I heard Dusty Baker and his Cincinnati Reds are already planning for next season. However, in the interest of showing off my psychic abilities, and crushing the hopes of all of you Royals fans, I am going to predict the finishing order of every division in Major League Baseball. It’s kind of like the old Johnny Carson segment “The Great Carson-i” except I wear that hat every day.
AMERICAN LEAGUE
A.L. EAST
1st Place- Boston Red Sox
I am aware that the Red Sox are older and slower, but I think my close personal friend PAPI will be back on his game in 2009.
2nd Place- New York Yankees (Wild Card Winner)
I like Joe Girardi. Some might even go as far as calling him “a good guy” (and those people can borrow Natasha Richardson’s skis anytime they like.) I don’t think Girardi going to be able to lead the Bronx Bombers to an AL East title this year though.
3rd Place- Tampa Bay Rays
I know they are the defending AL champions, but I think they have really upset the two teams above them in these standings, and while I don’t think their run last year was a fluke, I do think the Red Sox and Yankees of least year were.
4th place/5th place- Does it matter? If you live in Toronto or Baltimore just buy the MLB Extra Innings Package and pretend to enjoy the other teams.
A.L CENTRAL
1st Place- Minnesota Twins- It’s finally time for Peter Gammons’ babies to do it.
2nd Place- Cleveland Indians- After a disappointing season last year, I fully expect Cleveland to bounce back. They’re better than they showed in 2008.
3rd Place- Chicago White Sox- They won the division last year, but I think that was the definition of getting hot at the right time. I’m sorry South Siders. Not this year.
4th Place- Detroit Tigers- Based solely on how disappointed everyone was with them last year, I’m not rooting for them anymore.
5th Place- Kansas City Royals- Bad baseball. Bad, Bad, Bad.
A.L. WEST
1st Place- Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim and Northern California on the West Coast of the United States of America in the Western Hemisphere- That’s all you need to know for the AL West. The rest of the teams, which include the baseball juggernauts of Texas, Seattle and Oakland will not compete, and the Angels will be making playoff plans by Labor Day.
-Off topic prediction- Nick’s blog at Milwaukee Bucks. Com will be declared the greatest blog ever. A close second will be PerezHilton.com (AMusings will come in at number 592, right behind CTB’s doppelganger, Rosie O’Donnell.)
NATIONAL LEAGUE
N.L. EAST
1st Place- New York Mets- In my opinion, they have everything going for them. They have a new ballpark, the best pitcher in the National League (and probably all of major league baseball) and the best batting stance in history, Gary Sheffield.
2nd Place- Atlanta Braves- Bobby Cox (who looks frighteningly like Pope John Paul II) will not be happy to receive this news, but he’s not winning the division this year. Chipper Jones can only hold the offense for so long.
3rd Place- Philadelphia Phillies- This one I’m not too sure on. Ryan Howard is very good, very, very good, but in the words of a friend of mine “He’s too strike-outy”.
4th Place- Florida Marlins- This will not be one of those years where the Marlins come out and surprise everyone. They have too much competition at the top of the division to do that. They’ll be a solid baseball team though. I put them around 80 wins.
5th Place- Washington Nationals- Ugh. Not good.
N.L. CENTRAL
1st Place- Chicago Cubs- That right there…that you can bet your house on. They will win this division by 15 games. Even if they have to battle the “June Swoon” or battle injury, they will still win by 5 games.
2nd Place- Cincinnati Reds- Why not? They have some great young talent, the unfortunate coincidence is that their manager doesn’t know what to do with them. He’s only comfortable bossing Mac Newton around.
3rd Place- Milwaukee Brewers- I love watching the Brewers. They are absolutely one of my favorite teams to watch, but with only Gallardo on the pitching staff, they won’t be able to compete.
4th Place- St. Louis Cardinals- Old. Bad. Angry. Old. Not fast. Not good. Old.
5th Place- (My) Pittsburgh Pirates- The Pirates haven’t been above .500 since their last playoff appearance in 1992. This year will be no different.
6th Place- Houston Astros- God help the people of Houston.
-Off topic prediction- CTB will get so tired of hearing about Jay Cutler, he will become a Packers fan just for spite.
N.L. WEST
1st Place- Los Angeles Dodgers- MANNY! MR. MANNY! The fact they will have Manny playing at his highest ability, combined with Joe Torre, there shouldn’t be too much trouble winning this division for Vin Scully’s boys.
2nd Place- Arizona Diamondbacks (Wild Card Winners)- Everyone gets excited by Brandon Webb and Dan Haren, and rightfully so, but I have no idea who their 3, 4 and 5 are. Their lineup also leaves something to be desired.
3rd Place- Colorado Rockies- I like their pitching staff. It won’t matter though, because you could hit a homerun in Denver using a toothpick.
4th Place- San Francisco Giants- Better than last year, but not good by any stretch of the imagination.
5th Place- San Diego Padres- They will be a good team until Mr. Peavy makes bye bye’s and then it’s going to be real bad news.
Playoff Predictions? Sure why not.
NLDS- Cubs d. Diamondbacks
NLDS- Mets d. Dodgers
NLCS- Cubs d. Mets
ALDS- Yankees d. Angels
ALDS- Red Sox d. Twins
ALCS- Red Sox d. Yankees
World Series- Red Sox d. Cubs (I’m sorry.)
There you have my predictions. You can feel free to place money on these things based on what I have said, but I wouldn’t suggest it.
What we do know from experience is that all of these teams will not remain in the running for too long. As a matter of fact, I heard Dusty Baker and his Cincinnati Reds are already planning for next season. However, in the interest of showing off my psychic abilities, and crushing the hopes of all of you Royals fans, I am going to predict the finishing order of every division in Major League Baseball. It’s kind of like the old Johnny Carson segment “The Great Carson-i” except I wear that hat every day.
AMERICAN LEAGUE
A.L. EAST
1st Place- Boston Red Sox
I am aware that the Red Sox are older and slower, but I think my close personal friend PAPI will be back on his game in 2009.
2nd Place- New York Yankees (Wild Card Winner)
I like Joe Girardi. Some might even go as far as calling him “a good guy” (and those people can borrow Natasha Richardson’s skis anytime they like.) I don’t think Girardi going to be able to lead the Bronx Bombers to an AL East title this year though.
3rd Place- Tampa Bay Rays
I know they are the defending AL champions, but I think they have really upset the two teams above them in these standings, and while I don’t think their run last year was a fluke, I do think the Red Sox and Yankees of least year were.
4th place/5th place- Does it matter? If you live in Toronto or Baltimore just buy the MLB Extra Innings Package and pretend to enjoy the other teams.
A.L CENTRAL
1st Place- Minnesota Twins- It’s finally time for Peter Gammons’ babies to do it.
2nd Place- Cleveland Indians- After a disappointing season last year, I fully expect Cleveland to bounce back. They’re better than they showed in 2008.
3rd Place- Chicago White Sox- They won the division last year, but I think that was the definition of getting hot at the right time. I’m sorry South Siders. Not this year.
4th Place- Detroit Tigers- Based solely on how disappointed everyone was with them last year, I’m not rooting for them anymore.
5th Place- Kansas City Royals- Bad baseball. Bad, Bad, Bad.
A.L. WEST
1st Place- Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim and Northern California on the West Coast of the United States of America in the Western Hemisphere- That’s all you need to know for the AL West. The rest of the teams, which include the baseball juggernauts of Texas, Seattle and Oakland will not compete, and the Angels will be making playoff plans by Labor Day.
-Off topic prediction- Nick’s blog at Milwaukee Bucks. Com will be declared the greatest blog ever. A close second will be PerezHilton.com (AMusings will come in at number 592, right behind CTB’s doppelganger, Rosie O’Donnell.)
NATIONAL LEAGUE
N.L. EAST
1st Place- New York Mets- In my opinion, they have everything going for them. They have a new ballpark, the best pitcher in the National League (and probably all of major league baseball) and the best batting stance in history, Gary Sheffield.
2nd Place- Atlanta Braves- Bobby Cox (who looks frighteningly like Pope John Paul II) will not be happy to receive this news, but he’s not winning the division this year. Chipper Jones can only hold the offense for so long.
3rd Place- Philadelphia Phillies- This one I’m not too sure on. Ryan Howard is very good, very, very good, but in the words of a friend of mine “He’s too strike-outy”.
4th Place- Florida Marlins- This will not be one of those years where the Marlins come out and surprise everyone. They have too much competition at the top of the division to do that. They’ll be a solid baseball team though. I put them around 80 wins.
5th Place- Washington Nationals- Ugh. Not good.
N.L. CENTRAL
1st Place- Chicago Cubs- That right there…that you can bet your house on. They will win this division by 15 games. Even if they have to battle the “June Swoon” or battle injury, they will still win by 5 games.
2nd Place- Cincinnati Reds- Why not? They have some great young talent, the unfortunate coincidence is that their manager doesn’t know what to do with them. He’s only comfortable bossing Mac Newton around.
3rd Place- Milwaukee Brewers- I love watching the Brewers. They are absolutely one of my favorite teams to watch, but with only Gallardo on the pitching staff, they won’t be able to compete.
4th Place- St. Louis Cardinals- Old. Bad. Angry. Old. Not fast. Not good. Old.
5th Place- (My) Pittsburgh Pirates- The Pirates haven’t been above .500 since their last playoff appearance in 1992. This year will be no different.
6th Place- Houston Astros- God help the people of Houston.
-Off topic prediction- CTB will get so tired of hearing about Jay Cutler, he will become a Packers fan just for spite.
N.L. WEST
1st Place- Los Angeles Dodgers- MANNY! MR. MANNY! The fact they will have Manny playing at his highest ability, combined with Joe Torre, there shouldn’t be too much trouble winning this division for Vin Scully’s boys.
2nd Place- Arizona Diamondbacks (Wild Card Winners)- Everyone gets excited by Brandon Webb and Dan Haren, and rightfully so, but I have no idea who their 3, 4 and 5 are. Their lineup also leaves something to be desired.
3rd Place- Colorado Rockies- I like their pitching staff. It won’t matter though, because you could hit a homerun in Denver using a toothpick.
4th Place- San Francisco Giants- Better than last year, but not good by any stretch of the imagination.
5th Place- San Diego Padres- They will be a good team until Mr. Peavy makes bye bye’s and then it’s going to be real bad news.
Playoff Predictions? Sure why not.
NLDS- Cubs d. Diamondbacks
NLDS- Mets d. Dodgers
NLCS- Cubs d. Mets
ALDS- Yankees d. Angels
ALDS- Red Sox d. Twins
ALCS- Red Sox d. Yankees
World Series- Red Sox d. Cubs (I’m sorry.)
There you have my predictions. You can feel free to place money on these things based on what I have said, but I wouldn’t suggest it.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Friday Night Lights
Grades Bad, Settled for a Juco
"I could hoop yo, all-American my age group yo
Grades bad, settled for a juco"
-- Cam'ron
Amid the excitement of, you know, the other four college basketball teams still vying for a national championship, word came out of Milwaukee yesterday that Marquette University signed junior-college transfer Darius Johnson-Odom, an explosive combination guard out of Hutchinson (Kansas) Junior College. To be sure, self-coronated recruiting guru Buzz Williams and his staff need to find viable replacements for the terrific trio of Dominic James, Wesley Matthews, and Jerel McNeal, and there's no doubt that Johnson-Odom can play, averaging over 22 points per game while battling tough competition at his level.
But oh, that level. For all of his faults, not least of which was the manner he departed the school, former coach Tom Crean primarily recruited four-year players who earned their degrees after their time at Marquette. Rarely did Crean take risks on junior college players (one of his jucos, Mike Kinsella, actually played at academically impossible Rice prior to injuring his ankle and going the juco route), and rarely were there more than two on the roster at any one given time. This strategy dovetailed nicely with Father Robert Wild tightening admissions standards, making MU-rah-rah far more selective in the process. All outward appearances, and NCAA graduation rates in the nineties, pointed to one conclusion: Tom Crean ran a team that was truly comprised of scholar-athletes.
Fast-forward just one year and one day from Crean's early April, 2008 departure to Indiana. Williams has now brought six junior-college players into the program. First, there was the Tyler tandem of Joe Fulce and Jimmy Butler. The former was hobbled by knee injuries for most of the season, yet he did turn in an energetic performance at Providence that helped the team to perhaps their best road victory of the season. Butler was a solid contributor all year, pulling down key rebounds and making strong drives throughout the Golden Eagles' stretch run.
Milwaukee natives Dwight Buycks and Monterale Clark were added to the roster as Buzz's tenure progressed, Buycks for the 2009 season, and Clark for the 2010 campaign. Canadian Liam McMorrow entered the fold as well, eligible for the 2009 season provided that his health improves. Then came yesterday's signing of Johnson-Odom. 2010's roster will feature at least six junior college players, quite the sea change for the humble Midwestern program.
For those that are unfamiliar with the reputation problems plaguing players that hail from junior colleges, the New York Times does a pretty good job of explaining, as does the AD at Blinn College, a noted juco in Texas:
Why does it matter? Well, I suppose in the grand scheme of things, it's not all that important, though the requirements mentioned by Blinn's AD can be easily met by even below average students. But I'll try to explain. Some alumni brag about their school' s postseason record, despite the fact that their alma mater is a diploma mill on the order of, say, the University of Wisconsin. Others like to talk up academic records -- "Well, we may not win, but we play the game the right way." Under the tenure of Tom Crean, and during the season immediately following his, with his core group of players, Marquette was both. It's an honor shared by very few teams. We won and we played the right way.
Perhaps we'll still win. Perhaps these jucos will prove me wrong; they could be academic all-stars who wanted to take a shot at high-major programs after a year or two of refinement. Just count me as an alumni who hopes for the best interest of his alma mater, on and off the court.
"I could hoop yo, all-American my age group yo
Grades bad, settled for a juco"
-- Cam'ron
Amid the excitement of, you know, the other four college basketball teams still vying for a national championship, word came out of Milwaukee yesterday that Marquette University signed junior-college transfer Darius Johnson-Odom, an explosive combination guard out of Hutchinson (Kansas) Junior College. To be sure, self-coronated recruiting guru Buzz Williams and his staff need to find viable replacements for the terrific trio of Dominic James, Wesley Matthews, and Jerel McNeal, and there's no doubt that Johnson-Odom can play, averaging over 22 points per game while battling tough competition at his level.
But oh, that level. For all of his faults, not least of which was the manner he departed the school, former coach Tom Crean primarily recruited four-year players who earned their degrees after their time at Marquette. Rarely did Crean take risks on junior college players (one of his jucos, Mike Kinsella, actually played at academically impossible Rice prior to injuring his ankle and going the juco route), and rarely were there more than two on the roster at any one given time. This strategy dovetailed nicely with Father Robert Wild tightening admissions standards, making MU-rah-rah far more selective in the process. All outward appearances, and NCAA graduation rates in the nineties, pointed to one conclusion: Tom Crean ran a team that was truly comprised of scholar-athletes.
Fast-forward just one year and one day from Crean's early April, 2008 departure to Indiana. Williams has now brought six junior-college players into the program. First, there was the Tyler tandem of Joe Fulce and Jimmy Butler. The former was hobbled by knee injuries for most of the season, yet he did turn in an energetic performance at Providence that helped the team to perhaps their best road victory of the season. Butler was a solid contributor all year, pulling down key rebounds and making strong drives throughout the Golden Eagles' stretch run.
Milwaukee natives Dwight Buycks and Monterale Clark were added to the roster as Buzz's tenure progressed, Buycks for the 2009 season, and Clark for the 2010 campaign. Canadian Liam McMorrow entered the fold as well, eligible for the 2009 season provided that his health improves. Then came yesterday's signing of Johnson-Odom. 2010's roster will feature at least six junior college players, quite the sea change for the humble Midwestern program.
For those that are unfamiliar with the reputation problems plaguing players that hail from junior colleges, the New York Times does a pretty good job of explaining, as does the AD at Blinn College, a noted juco in Texas:
“We provide an opportunity to those kids who don’t meet N.C.A.A. academic requirements, to enable them to continue academic careers. Whether right or wrong, a lot of them wouldn’t go to college if athletic avenues weren’t available to them.”
Why does it matter? Well, I suppose in the grand scheme of things, it's not all that important, though the requirements mentioned by Blinn's AD can be easily met by even below average students. But I'll try to explain. Some alumni brag about their school' s postseason record, despite the fact that their alma mater is a diploma mill on the order of, say, the University of Wisconsin. Others like to talk up academic records -- "Well, we may not win, but we play the game the right way." Under the tenure of Tom Crean, and during the season immediately following his, with his core group of players, Marquette was both. It's an honor shared by very few teams. We won and we played the right way.
Perhaps we'll still win. Perhaps these jucos will prove me wrong; they could be academic all-stars who wanted to take a shot at high-major programs after a year or two of refinement. Just count me as an alumni who hopes for the best interest of his alma mater, on and off the court.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Cousin Bink's Country Beer Jamboree
Volume 1, Issue 7
I've been a Chicago Bears since birth. I remember little details from 1992 season. I asked Mark Carrier who is favorite teammate was as an 8 year old on the Dave Wannstedt Show (it was Big Cat Williams). And since I've been watching the Bears have never had a decent quarterback for more than a year. Sure Erik Kramer had a good year in 1995 and Rex Grossman looked like an MVP for the first six games in 2006, but then bad Rex came out.
And now the Bears, and most Bears fans seem satisfied with Kyle Orton. Why? Is it because he's a good "game manager"? When's the last time some one called Peyton Manning or Tom Brady a "game manager"? You don't because it's code for not a good quarterback, like saying a baseball player is a great utility player, which means they're not good enough to start anywhere on the field. Is it the love of Orton's neck beard clouding Bear's fans judgement? I would hope Bear's fans would be a bit more sophisticated, seeing as how the Bears are the oldest team in the NFL. But then every time there's a below zero weather game I see shirtless idiots who have the "original" idea of spelling out B-E-A-R-S on their chests I question the sanity of Bear's fans the world over.
The Bears don't need a game manager, unless they want to go 7-9, 8-8, or 9-7 every year. And for once an option is out there that doesn't involve signing away other team retreads (read Jeff Blake, Brian Griese, Kordell Stewart, Chris Chandler). No, Jay Cutler wants out of Denver in the worst way and it's well known. What would it cost the Bears? A first round pick and maybe a few second day picks? Well, looking at Jerry Angelo’s track record for first round picks (Chris Williams, Cedric Benson, Michael Haynes, Rex Grossman, Marc Columbo, and David Terrel) I don't see that as that big of a sacrifice.
Common Bear's fans arguments against getting Cutler:
1. He hasn't been exposed to Bear weather and wouldn't be able to handle the harsh December Bear's games.
Counter-Argument: He's played in Denver for 3 years. It's snowing in Denver mid-way through October, unlike mid-late October in Chicago.
2. He's a cry-baby and would be a team cancer.
Counter-Argument: He only raised an argument after his new coach tried to trade for Matt Cassel and none of his teammates have ever complained about him.
3. He doesn't play "Bear-style" football and wouldn't hand the ball off in cold weather (Bear-weather).
Counter-Argument: This one's actually true. He'd be able to pass the ball for a win if needed.
So c'mon Jerry and Lovie. Get the Bears fans something they deserve, a quarterback. Jay Cutler may not be a "game manager" or "field general," he'd just be the Bears most talented quarterback since, well ever.
I've been a Chicago Bears since birth. I remember little details from 1992 season. I asked Mark Carrier who is favorite teammate was as an 8 year old on the Dave Wannstedt Show (it was Big Cat Williams). And since I've been watching the Bears have never had a decent quarterback for more than a year. Sure Erik Kramer had a good year in 1995 and Rex Grossman looked like an MVP for the first six games in 2006, but then bad Rex came out.
And now the Bears, and most Bears fans seem satisfied with Kyle Orton. Why? Is it because he's a good "game manager"? When's the last time some one called Peyton Manning or Tom Brady a "game manager"? You don't because it's code for not a good quarterback, like saying a baseball player is a great utility player, which means they're not good enough to start anywhere on the field. Is it the love of Orton's neck beard clouding Bear's fans judgement? I would hope Bear's fans would be a bit more sophisticated, seeing as how the Bears are the oldest team in the NFL. But then every time there's a below zero weather game I see shirtless idiots who have the "original" idea of spelling out B-E-A-R-S on their chests I question the sanity of Bear's fans the world over.
The Bears don't need a game manager, unless they want to go 7-9, 8-8, or 9-7 every year. And for once an option is out there that doesn't involve signing away other team retreads (read Jeff Blake, Brian Griese, Kordell Stewart, Chris Chandler). No, Jay Cutler wants out of Denver in the worst way and it's well known. What would it cost the Bears? A first round pick and maybe a few second day picks? Well, looking at Jerry Angelo’s track record for first round picks (Chris Williams, Cedric Benson, Michael Haynes, Rex Grossman, Marc Columbo, and David Terrel) I don't see that as that big of a sacrifice.
Common Bear's fans arguments against getting Cutler:
1. He hasn't been exposed to Bear weather and wouldn't be able to handle the harsh December Bear's games.
Counter-Argument: He's played in Denver for 3 years. It's snowing in Denver mid-way through October, unlike mid-late October in Chicago.
2. He's a cry-baby and would be a team cancer.
Counter-Argument: He only raised an argument after his new coach tried to trade for Matt Cassel and none of his teammates have ever complained about him.
3. He doesn't play "Bear-style" football and wouldn't hand the ball off in cold weather (Bear-weather).
Counter-Argument: This one's actually true. He'd be able to pass the ball for a win if needed.
So c'mon Jerry and Lovie. Get the Bears fans something they deserve, a quarterback. Jay Cutler may not be a "game manager" or "field general," he'd just be the Bears most talented quarterback since, well ever.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Smoke Break
Is there such a thing as Midwestern cool? People in the entertainment world say Johnny Carson had it. He passed it off to David Letterman. Maybe it wasn’t the soup de jour for NBC --- northeastern hokey with the interview skills of Stuttering John suited their liking --- but the smiling, self-deprecating manner of this group superbly masks self-determination. The vestige of success doesn’t eliminate humility.
Look no further than East Lansing, Michigan. A good guy (Author’s Note: The author does not use the phrase “good guy” that often. In this instance he is borrowing the phrase from his Uncle Stan. The author thinks most people deserve to be pelted with road apples) has built a dominant basketball program at Michigan State.
This is not Duke where the aloof Polish guy from Chicago built a basketball monarchy and morphed from city guy with a long last name to scowling sideline nitwit after his team last won the national title in 2001.
Don’t confuse it with a Kentucky program where the only thing greater than a fan’s expectations for the basketball program is the number of incestuous relationships with first and second cousins.
The Spartan program is neither past its heyday nor saddled with insurmountable expectations thanks to Tom Izzo.
Izzo is New York City without the traffic and Milwaukee without the smell. He’s won and continued to win in his 14 years as the head basketball coach, five of the past twelve that have included Final Four appearances and one national title. Most of all, he is a good guy.
There’s that tag again. I hate to use it, but I find no faults with Izzo.
I admire the fact that he sometimes agrees with the refs instead of his own players when calls go against the Spartans. Kalin Lucas was called for an offensive foul in Michigan State’s Elite Eight game with Louisville. Lucas accepted the call like most players with a head full of steam would: complete denial and angst directed towards the officials. Lucas looked to Izzo who had witnessed the play up close. Izzo tilted his head and in a scene right out of “Analyze This,” told Lucas, “Yes you did. Yes you did.” He then shot a pillow with a semiautomatic weapon at halftime (ok, that didn’t happen).
Then there are the Midnight Madness events to kick off the basketball season. To begin the 2007-2008 season, Izzo dressed up as a Spartan and rode into the Breslin Center on a horse wearing a coat of arms and brandishing a sword. This year to commemorate the 30-year anniversary of Michigan State’s National Championship, Izzo donned a long-haired wig, bellbottom jeans and a tie-dye shirt. Some might view this as Izzo’s inner-urge to host a variety show screaming out. I like to think of it as a man so down to earth he’s not above clowning to the fans.
And oh yeah, the celebration of a national title team to kickoff the 2008-2009 season? Most coaches want to distance themselves completely from the past; god forbid the celebration puts pressure on the current headman to win. It’s important to separate the present from the past because the reminders of the past raise expectations of the here and now. One of the first people who congratulated Izzo on the court after the win on Sunday’s was Magic Johnson. He made the 30-year anniversary possible 30 years ago.
Will Izzo stay at Michigan State forever? No one knows. He’s flirted with the NBA once and his name pops up when anyone mentions the Arizona opening, but he’s done a remarkable job at Michigan State. Should he change jobs you best believe the same grounded person with Midwestern cool and violent mannerisms will stay true to form. A hell of a coach and a “good guy.” You're good you.
Look no further than East Lansing, Michigan. A good guy (Author’s Note: The author does not use the phrase “good guy” that often. In this instance he is borrowing the phrase from his Uncle Stan. The author thinks most people deserve to be pelted with road apples) has built a dominant basketball program at Michigan State.
This is not Duke where the aloof Polish guy from Chicago built a basketball monarchy and morphed from city guy with a long last name to scowling sideline nitwit after his team last won the national title in 2001.
Don’t confuse it with a Kentucky program where the only thing greater than a fan’s expectations for the basketball program is the number of incestuous relationships with first and second cousins.
The Spartan program is neither past its heyday nor saddled with insurmountable expectations thanks to Tom Izzo.
Izzo is New York City without the traffic and Milwaukee without the smell. He’s won and continued to win in his 14 years as the head basketball coach, five of the past twelve that have included Final Four appearances and one national title. Most of all, he is a good guy.
There’s that tag again. I hate to use it, but I find no faults with Izzo.
I admire the fact that he sometimes agrees with the refs instead of his own players when calls go against the Spartans. Kalin Lucas was called for an offensive foul in Michigan State’s Elite Eight game with Louisville. Lucas accepted the call like most players with a head full of steam would: complete denial and angst directed towards the officials. Lucas looked to Izzo who had witnessed the play up close. Izzo tilted his head and in a scene right out of “Analyze This,” told Lucas, “Yes you did. Yes you did.” He then shot a pillow with a semiautomatic weapon at halftime (ok, that didn’t happen).
Then there are the Midnight Madness events to kick off the basketball season. To begin the 2007-2008 season, Izzo dressed up as a Spartan and rode into the Breslin Center on a horse wearing a coat of arms and brandishing a sword. This year to commemorate the 30-year anniversary of Michigan State’s National Championship, Izzo donned a long-haired wig, bellbottom jeans and a tie-dye shirt. Some might view this as Izzo’s inner-urge to host a variety show screaming out. I like to think of it as a man so down to earth he’s not above clowning to the fans.
And oh yeah, the celebration of a national title team to kickoff the 2008-2009 season? Most coaches want to distance themselves completely from the past; god forbid the celebration puts pressure on the current headman to win. It’s important to separate the present from the past because the reminders of the past raise expectations of the here and now. One of the first people who congratulated Izzo on the court after the win on Sunday’s was Magic Johnson. He made the 30-year anniversary possible 30 years ago.
Will Izzo stay at Michigan State forever? No one knows. He’s flirted with the NBA once and his name pops up when anyone mentions the Arizona opening, but he’s done a remarkable job at Michigan State. Should he change jobs you best believe the same grounded person with Midwestern cool and violent mannerisms will stay true to form. A hell of a coach and a “good guy.” You're good you.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Realizations
Don't Kid Yourself
Once again, for the 4th time in the last five years, my step-mom is going to win the annual Bracket Competition on my Dad’s side of the family. Thank you Pittsburgh. Actually, shame on me for underestimating Jay Wright.
College basketball, more so than any other sport, is all about coaching. This year, the Final Four will consist of Tom Izzo, Jim Calhoun, Jay Wright and Roy Williams. I do not regret the picks I have made this year. My only regret with this entire tournament is the fact that I actually spent time this winter watching the College Basketball regular season. It is officially a waste of time.
A one seed, a three seed, who really cares? It doesn’t matter. Villanova has virtually played home games the entire way through the tournament thus far. Not that I am complaining, they earned that right by playing well in the best conference this season.
The men’s college basketball regular season is a joke. It has little to no bearing on who will compete for the National Championship. I never thought I would come to this point, but I finally understand why a playoff in College Football would be a bad idea. Forget money, logistics of scheduling, etc. I don’t claim to be smart enough to incorporate all of that. The fact of the matter is that a tournament in college football would make the regular season irrelevant. Why play the regular season? Put USC, LSU, Alabama, Ohio State, Oklahoma, Texas, Florida, and take your pick… put them in a tournament and be done with it.
My step-mom will admit to not watching a single college basketball game this year. Tournament included, other than the last three minutes of the close games. I think she is on to something. I on the other hand, spent my winter weekday nights tuned in to ESPN to watch the Big East or whatever overrated Big Ten team was being televised. The domination of Michigan State by Purdue in February in West Lafayette doesn’t really mean much now, does it? Boiler Up! Or how about the “epic battles” this year between UConn and Pittsburgh when DeJuan Blair had his way with Hasheem Thabeet? Have fun watching the big man in Detroit, DeJuan. I am making a remix to the Green Day song and replacing September with February. Wake Me Up When February Ends.
Oh but Brad! Arizona’s KEY victories in December are what got them into the tournament. Butler’s early season wins got them into the tournament even after losing in the Horizon League Championship. Yeah great, I’ll save Brad Stevens a seat next to me on the couch this weekend. Not you though, Budinger. Hands off the remote, you can watch America’s Next Top Model on your own television.
The tournament selection committee should be commended. They, as they normally do, got it right. Before this past weekend the top three seeds were a combined 24-0. The pod system, instituted by the NCAA to save money, has created chalk in the bracket. I love it. The favorites win their games and we get match-ups like we did this past weekend between powerhouse schools. As a side note, I’m still waiting to see how that injury to Jermone Dyson is going to affect Uconn. They look even better without him, to me.
The NCAA Tournament is fantastic, no one can dispute that. No one in America gets any work done those first two days. But, it comes at the expense of the regular season. How about all those all important conference tournaments at the end of the season? How many of the Final Four teams won theirs? I’ll give you a hint, it starts with “z” and ends with “ero”. Winning your conference means next to nothing, just ask Ricky P. Although, I guess it somehow gives Coach K a sense that he and his program are still relevant.
Once again, for the 4th time in the last five years, my step-mom is going to win the annual Bracket Competition on my Dad’s side of the family. Thank you Pittsburgh. Actually, shame on me for underestimating Jay Wright.
College basketball, more so than any other sport, is all about coaching. This year, the Final Four will consist of Tom Izzo, Jim Calhoun, Jay Wright and Roy Williams. I do not regret the picks I have made this year. My only regret with this entire tournament is the fact that I actually spent time this winter watching the College Basketball regular season. It is officially a waste of time.
A one seed, a three seed, who really cares? It doesn’t matter. Villanova has virtually played home games the entire way through the tournament thus far. Not that I am complaining, they earned that right by playing well in the best conference this season.
The men’s college basketball regular season is a joke. It has little to no bearing on who will compete for the National Championship. I never thought I would come to this point, but I finally understand why a playoff in College Football would be a bad idea. Forget money, logistics of scheduling, etc. I don’t claim to be smart enough to incorporate all of that. The fact of the matter is that a tournament in college football would make the regular season irrelevant. Why play the regular season? Put USC, LSU, Alabama, Ohio State, Oklahoma, Texas, Florida, and take your pick… put them in a tournament and be done with it.
My step-mom will admit to not watching a single college basketball game this year. Tournament included, other than the last three minutes of the close games. I think she is on to something. I on the other hand, spent my winter weekday nights tuned in to ESPN to watch the Big East or whatever overrated Big Ten team was being televised. The domination of Michigan State by Purdue in February in West Lafayette doesn’t really mean much now, does it? Boiler Up! Or how about the “epic battles” this year between UConn and Pittsburgh when DeJuan Blair had his way with Hasheem Thabeet? Have fun watching the big man in Detroit, DeJuan. I am making a remix to the Green Day song and replacing September with February. Wake Me Up When February Ends.
Oh but Brad! Arizona’s KEY victories in December are what got them into the tournament. Butler’s early season wins got them into the tournament even after losing in the Horizon League Championship. Yeah great, I’ll save Brad Stevens a seat next to me on the couch this weekend. Not you though, Budinger. Hands off the remote, you can watch America’s Next Top Model on your own television.
The tournament selection committee should be commended. They, as they normally do, got it right. Before this past weekend the top three seeds were a combined 24-0. The pod system, instituted by the NCAA to save money, has created chalk in the bracket. I love it. The favorites win their games and we get match-ups like we did this past weekend between powerhouse schools. As a side note, I’m still waiting to see how that injury to Jermone Dyson is going to affect Uconn. They look even better without him, to me.
The NCAA Tournament is fantastic, no one can dispute that. No one in America gets any work done those first two days. But, it comes at the expense of the regular season. How about all those all important conference tournaments at the end of the season? How many of the Final Four teams won theirs? I’ll give you a hint, it starts with “z” and ends with “ero”. Winning your conference means next to nothing, just ask Ricky P. Although, I guess it somehow gives Coach K a sense that he and his program are still relevant.
Monday, March 30, 2009
AMusings
Baseball Season Is Here Again
The baseball season is only one week away. It makes me think about all of the things I love about going to a baseball game. There is a certain feeling a person gets when they walk into a major league baseball stadium, sees the grass, smells the food, takes in all of the players warming up. Once the game begins though, there is a laundry list of things that take place that are not ok. Not even a little ok. Because I am a good person, and I am concerned about everyone’s well being, I am going to share with you the rules I have decided every fan needs to follow this baseball season.
Leave your shirt on.
It isn’t socially acceptable to take your clothes off anywhere else in the world with the exception of the beach or a swimming pool. There are plenty of alternatives to taking your clothes off. Why not wear a cut off t-shirt? How about drinking plenty of water? Let it be known, that this year, during the 2009 baseball season, I will be approaching any man with hooters who has taken his top off, and alerting him that he is being indecent at the very least.
Don’t give kids foul balls.
Aren’t we teaching the youngsters the wrong lesson by handing them foul balls that we caught? I was a kid for 14 whole years, and nobody ever gave me anything except way too many cookies. If I catch a foul ball at a baseball game, or better yet a home run ball, and a kid gives me puppy dog eyes, he’s got another thing coming.
More so, don’t boo the people that don’t give the balls to kids. It’s not their fault the kid had poor reaction time and didn’t catch the ball. The kid will learn to be quicker, and more agile. They will also learn the all important lesson that you can’t always get what you want. (But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.)
You may leave your seat one time during 9 innings.
Let me clarify, I will stand up for you when you leave your seat only once during a 9 inning baseball game. There is really no reason to need to get up more than once in a 3 hour span. Do you need to go to the bathroom? Oh poor baby. I’m sure the 15 Bud Lights that I had to pass down to you had nothing to do with that. Oh you’re hungry? You couldn’t go 3 hours at home without popcorn, a pretzel, a beef sandwich, a hot dog, a sausage, two pieces of pizza, an ice cream cone, and a pepsi? I find that hard to believe. If you’re in my row, you get one pass, really only because I’m a nice person. After that, you can figure out a way to step over my legs.
Don’t talk to me.
I have never had a meaningful conversation with anyone at a baseball game. Questions usually consist of really tough things to figure out like “What inning is it?” “What’s the score?” “Who is up?”. If you’re stupid (and you must be if you can’t figure out that information which is displayed on a gigantic scoreboard) then just pretend I’m not there. Don’t ask me anything.
Don’t wear obnoxious/over-exposed clothing and give me a dirty look when I stare.
I know you have to leave your shirt on, but that does not mean it should be a 1984 Giants jersey with your name on it. You look like an idiot. Also, men who wear their own names on jerseys traditionally resemble a blimp, and there is no way, even if they were Kirby Puckett or Tony Gwynn, they would have worn that size during their playing days.
Also, don’t buy those stupid t-shirts outside of the stadium that say things like “Cardinals take it up the Pujols” or “We got Wood” or anything like that. They’re not funny, and because you were dumb enough to shell out the $30 for the shirt, I know all I need to know to know that I hate you.
If you don’t know the words to the National Anthem, don’t sing.
Self explanatory, no? Maurice Cheeks isn’t going to help you this time, so don’t try.
When the game is over, LEAVE.
Once the 27th out has been made, you can go. There is nothing else to see. The team will line up, high five each other, and then walk into the dugout. I’m sorry I’ve ruined the ending for you, but that’s all there is to it. This rule especially applies to people sitting on the aisle. I want to go home. Just leave, so I can too.
This rule does not only apply to the end of the game. If your team is losing 16-0 in the 4th, you can go home if you like. I see no reason to stay. It’s not going to get better.
If you are a miserable person, stay home.
This rule applies to anyone who is going to the game to hold a business meeting, anyone who complains about how much they paid for anything (included in “anything” are tickets, parking, food, beer, souvenirs, or any combination of the former). Anyone who is incapable of controlling their children should not take them to the game. While you might find your 4 year old’s sneezing cute, I find it obnoxious.
So there. If we can all agree to these rules and follow them, we should have a wonderful baseball season.
The baseball season is only one week away. It makes me think about all of the things I love about going to a baseball game. There is a certain feeling a person gets when they walk into a major league baseball stadium, sees the grass, smells the food, takes in all of the players warming up. Once the game begins though, there is a laundry list of things that take place that are not ok. Not even a little ok. Because I am a good person, and I am concerned about everyone’s well being, I am going to share with you the rules I have decided every fan needs to follow this baseball season.
Leave your shirt on.
It isn’t socially acceptable to take your clothes off anywhere else in the world with the exception of the beach or a swimming pool. There are plenty of alternatives to taking your clothes off. Why not wear a cut off t-shirt? How about drinking plenty of water? Let it be known, that this year, during the 2009 baseball season, I will be approaching any man with hooters who has taken his top off, and alerting him that he is being indecent at the very least.
Don’t give kids foul balls.
Aren’t we teaching the youngsters the wrong lesson by handing them foul balls that we caught? I was a kid for 14 whole years, and nobody ever gave me anything except way too many cookies. If I catch a foul ball at a baseball game, or better yet a home run ball, and a kid gives me puppy dog eyes, he’s got another thing coming.
More so, don’t boo the people that don’t give the balls to kids. It’s not their fault the kid had poor reaction time and didn’t catch the ball. The kid will learn to be quicker, and more agile. They will also learn the all important lesson that you can’t always get what you want. (But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.)
You may leave your seat one time during 9 innings.
Let me clarify, I will stand up for you when you leave your seat only once during a 9 inning baseball game. There is really no reason to need to get up more than once in a 3 hour span. Do you need to go to the bathroom? Oh poor baby. I’m sure the 15 Bud Lights that I had to pass down to you had nothing to do with that. Oh you’re hungry? You couldn’t go 3 hours at home without popcorn, a pretzel, a beef sandwich, a hot dog, a sausage, two pieces of pizza, an ice cream cone, and a pepsi? I find that hard to believe. If you’re in my row, you get one pass, really only because I’m a nice person. After that, you can figure out a way to step over my legs.
Don’t talk to me.
I have never had a meaningful conversation with anyone at a baseball game. Questions usually consist of really tough things to figure out like “What inning is it?” “What’s the score?” “Who is up?”. If you’re stupid (and you must be if you can’t figure out that information which is displayed on a gigantic scoreboard) then just pretend I’m not there. Don’t ask me anything.
Don’t wear obnoxious/over-exposed clothing and give me a dirty look when I stare.
I know you have to leave your shirt on, but that does not mean it should be a 1984 Giants jersey with your name on it. You look like an idiot. Also, men who wear their own names on jerseys traditionally resemble a blimp, and there is no way, even if they were Kirby Puckett or Tony Gwynn, they would have worn that size during their playing days.
Also, don’t buy those stupid t-shirts outside of the stadium that say things like “Cardinals take it up the Pujols” or “We got Wood” or anything like that. They’re not funny, and because you were dumb enough to shell out the $30 for the shirt, I know all I need to know to know that I hate you.
If you don’t know the words to the National Anthem, don’t sing.
Self explanatory, no? Maurice Cheeks isn’t going to help you this time, so don’t try.
When the game is over, LEAVE.
Once the 27th out has been made, you can go. There is nothing else to see. The team will line up, high five each other, and then walk into the dugout. I’m sorry I’ve ruined the ending for you, but that’s all there is to it. This rule especially applies to people sitting on the aisle. I want to go home. Just leave, so I can too.
This rule does not only apply to the end of the game. If your team is losing 16-0 in the 4th, you can go home if you like. I see no reason to stay. It’s not going to get better.
If you are a miserable person, stay home.
This rule applies to anyone who is going to the game to hold a business meeting, anyone who complains about how much they paid for anything (included in “anything” are tickets, parking, food, beer, souvenirs, or any combination of the former). Anyone who is incapable of controlling their children should not take them to the game. While you might find your 4 year old’s sneezing cute, I find it obnoxious.
So there. If we can all agree to these rules and follow them, we should have a wonderful baseball season.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Friday Night Lights
Eight (Times Two) Is Enough
Earlier this week, after the NFL owners' meetings in my adopted hometown of greater Los Angeles, where there is not a franchise, and where there never will be a franchise, commissioner (and Most Powerful Man in Sports, Like Can Have You Killed Within A Couple Minutes Powerful) Roger Goodell likely interrupted recession-oblivious (or maybe just oblivious) conversations about private jets, Cuban cigars, premium unleaded gasoline and preferred Vitamin Water flavors among 32 of the richest men on the planet by suggesting that the NFL expand its schedule to 18 games from the current 16 contests.
I'm not totally sure why Goodell would propose such a change. Ostensibly, Rog' wants to replace two of the four preseason showdowns with games that count. I've racked my brain for the last four and a half minutes and come up with an extensive list of pros and cons (mostly cons) that MPMSLCHYKWACMP must be considering as he dreams of Week 18 and 19 action (don't forget the bye week, kids).
Pros
1) (Maybe) increased television revenue. With two more games per season, Goodell could potentially milk a bit more cash out of CBS, Fox, NBC, and ESPN, especially now that the threat of placing games on the NFL Network can be used as a scare tactic to get the four major players to ante up. However, the NFL Network can't show 16 games per week. More importantly, the non-NFL-networks face incredible financial pressure as key advertisers hemorrhage cash and cut back on TV spending. Perhaps Goodell can flex his muscles here, but...
Giant, Massive Cons (and no, I'm not talking about NFL players)
1) Player health and safety. How ironic that Goodell's article came out the same day as an academic study that suggested NFL players lose two to three years off of their lives for each year they play football. Given the size of today's players and the speed and fury with which they play the game, I can only imagine how a two-game increase in the amount of bone-jarring hits and reckless collisions could affect that number.
2) Fading starpower, due to player health and safety. Welcome to the NFL of the 21st century, where Shaun Alexander was released two seasons after winning the 2005 NFL MVP award, and LaDainian Tomlinson is quickly following on the same path to irrelevance. The staying power of these stars is falling quickly due to the demands of a 16 game gridiron season. Two more games annually accelerates the decline of the NFL's most electrifying and marketable personalities.
3) Fan fatigue, which is already setting in for some (read: me), thanks to little bits of insanity like ESPN running new episodes of NFL Live every week in February and March.
Point being, though, the league enjoys such rabid fan interest because of the make-or-break nature of every single game. Add two additional contests, and the level of importance drops across the board, until you have an absurd situation like that which exists in baseball, where a talented team like the Yankees will seemingly drop ten straight just to make things interesting.
Likewise, when you add an additional home date for every team, it's that much easier to skip less enticing matchups in person and in front of the TV. Casual fans can only go crazy for so long.
4) Lack of incremental revenue improvements, which is business-ese for "Where's the extra money from your plan, Roger?" Now that NFL teams have wickedly (or wisely, depending on your perspective) forced season ticket holders to buy seats for their team's two preseason games across the board, I can't imagine two replacement regular season competitions drawing so much more revenue that you can risk cons 1, 2, and 3, even with some sort of broadcasting deal home run that may never happen.
So go ahead, Mr. Goodell. Extend football's regular season. But do so at the peril of your players, your teams, your fans, and ultimately, your league. It's your call.
Earlier this week, after the NFL owners' meetings in my adopted hometown of greater Los Angeles, where there is not a franchise, and where there never will be a franchise, commissioner (and Most Powerful Man in Sports, Like Can Have You Killed Within A Couple Minutes Powerful) Roger Goodell likely interrupted recession-oblivious (or maybe just oblivious) conversations about private jets, Cuban cigars, premium unleaded gasoline and preferred Vitamin Water flavors among 32 of the richest men on the planet by suggesting that the NFL expand its schedule to 18 games from the current 16 contests.
I'm not totally sure why Goodell would propose such a change. Ostensibly, Rog' wants to replace two of the four preseason showdowns with games that count. I've racked my brain for the last four and a half minutes and come up with an extensive list of pros and cons (mostly cons) that MPMSLCHYKWACMP must be considering as he dreams of Week 18 and 19 action (don't forget the bye week, kids).
Pros
1) (Maybe) increased television revenue. With two more games per season, Goodell could potentially milk a bit more cash out of CBS, Fox, NBC, and ESPN, especially now that the threat of placing games on the NFL Network can be used as a scare tactic to get the four major players to ante up. However, the NFL Network can't show 16 games per week. More importantly, the non-NFL-networks face incredible financial pressure as key advertisers hemorrhage cash and cut back on TV spending. Perhaps Goodell can flex his muscles here, but...
Giant, Massive Cons (and no, I'm not talking about NFL players)
1) Player health and safety. How ironic that Goodell's article came out the same day as an academic study that suggested NFL players lose two to three years off of their lives for each year they play football. Given the size of today's players and the speed and fury with which they play the game, I can only imagine how a two-game increase in the amount of bone-jarring hits and reckless collisions could affect that number.
2) Fading starpower, due to player health and safety. Welcome to the NFL of the 21st century, where Shaun Alexander was released two seasons after winning the 2005 NFL MVP award, and LaDainian Tomlinson is quickly following on the same path to irrelevance. The staying power of these stars is falling quickly due to the demands of a 16 game gridiron season. Two more games annually accelerates the decline of the NFL's most electrifying and marketable personalities.
3) Fan fatigue, which is already setting in for some (read: me), thanks to little bits of insanity like ESPN running new episodes of NFL Live every week in February and March.
Point being, though, the league enjoys such rabid fan interest because of the make-or-break nature of every single game. Add two additional contests, and the level of importance drops across the board, until you have an absurd situation like that which exists in baseball, where a talented team like the Yankees will seemingly drop ten straight just to make things interesting.
Likewise, when you add an additional home date for every team, it's that much easier to skip less enticing matchups in person and in front of the TV. Casual fans can only go crazy for so long.
4) Lack of incremental revenue improvements, which is business-ese for "Where's the extra money from your plan, Roger?" Now that NFL teams have wickedly (or wisely, depending on your perspective) forced season ticket holders to buy seats for their team's two preseason games across the board, I can't imagine two replacement regular season competitions drawing so much more revenue that you can risk cons 1, 2, and 3, even with some sort of broadcasting deal home run that may never happen.
So go ahead, Mr. Goodell. Extend football's regular season. But do so at the peril of your players, your teams, your fans, and ultimately, your league. It's your call.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Cousin Bink's Country Beer Jamboree
Volume 1, Issue 6
This Monday the World Baseball Classic came to an end finally. From what I saw on Sportscenter it was quite the exciting game with Ichiro hitting a 2 out hit in the top of the 10th to get in the winning run, but I with the rest of America reacted the same way: wondering how many days until the real baseball season starts.
You know the baseball season where there are 30 teams instead of 16. The season where the best players in the world play and are paid to play. The season that goes on for 6 months, not 4 weeks. The season that's basic set-up has been in place for over 100 years, not something Allan Bud Selig made up 4 years ago.
For those of you not aware, and judging by the TV ratings that's a Hell of a lot of people, the WBC is an event that will now be held every four years that attempts to be a World Cup of baseball. There's one big problem with that though; whole there are numerous major leagues of soccer that can claim to be the biggest and the best, Major League Baseball is where the big boys play (TM WCW).
The best players from Japan, Korea, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Venezuela, and even the Netherlands and Italy dream of playing in Major League Baseball, not leading their team to glory in the World Baseball Classic. I doubt Bert Blyleven would give up his World Series rings for a ring saying he guided the Netherlands to a World Baseball Classic win.
Personally my biggest problem with the WBC is how long it makes spring training which is like Advent to a baseball fan like me. Instead of starting in late February and going for four weeks through March, spring training this year is in it's sixth week, and there's still 10 days till the season starts. This is the equivalent of starting playing Christmas music in mid-November, rather than the day after Thanksgiving when it should start. I know Bud is Jewish and might not understand this, but surely someone in the MLB offices could have drawn a likable comparison for him.
I can name whose won every World Series since 1972 without batting an eye, but before this week I would have to think long and hard who won the WBC in 2006. This will not get over in the United States nor should it. Why would we want to watch a watered down tournament where many of the best players don't want to participate? As baseball fans we are trained to cheer for one team with players from all over the world. Baseball more than any other sport is an American sport in that it is a melting pot of cultures in one dugout. I think it would help to promote the game as the American sport rather than trying to split teams up and try and teach fans these guys are from your country and these are the only guys you should cheer. But then what do I know? I never caused a sport to miss it’s playoffs and then allowed every player and their mysterious Dominican cousin to take steroids to try and get the sport to be popular and relevant again. That’s the way you fix a sport, right Bud?.
This Monday the World Baseball Classic came to an end finally. From what I saw on Sportscenter it was quite the exciting game with Ichiro hitting a 2 out hit in the top of the 10th to get in the winning run, but I with the rest of America reacted the same way: wondering how many days until the real baseball season starts.
You know the baseball season where there are 30 teams instead of 16. The season where the best players in the world play and are paid to play. The season that goes on for 6 months, not 4 weeks. The season that's basic set-up has been in place for over 100 years, not something Allan Bud Selig made up 4 years ago.
For those of you not aware, and judging by the TV ratings that's a Hell of a lot of people, the WBC is an event that will now be held every four years that attempts to be a World Cup of baseball. There's one big problem with that though; whole there are numerous major leagues of soccer that can claim to be the biggest and the best, Major League Baseball is where the big boys play (TM WCW).
The best players from Japan, Korea, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Venezuela, and even the Netherlands and Italy dream of playing in Major League Baseball, not leading their team to glory in the World Baseball Classic. I doubt Bert Blyleven would give up his World Series rings for a ring saying he guided the Netherlands to a World Baseball Classic win.
Personally my biggest problem with the WBC is how long it makes spring training which is like Advent to a baseball fan like me. Instead of starting in late February and going for four weeks through March, spring training this year is in it's sixth week, and there's still 10 days till the season starts. This is the equivalent of starting playing Christmas music in mid-November, rather than the day after Thanksgiving when it should start. I know Bud is Jewish and might not understand this, but surely someone in the MLB offices could have drawn a likable comparison for him.
I can name whose won every World Series since 1972 without batting an eye, but before this week I would have to think long and hard who won the WBC in 2006. This will not get over in the United States nor should it. Why would we want to watch a watered down tournament where many of the best players don't want to participate? As baseball fans we are trained to cheer for one team with players from all over the world. Baseball more than any other sport is an American sport in that it is a melting pot of cultures in one dugout. I think it would help to promote the game as the American sport rather than trying to split teams up and try and teach fans these guys are from your country and these are the only guys you should cheer. But then what do I know? I never caused a sport to miss it’s playoffs and then allowed every player and their mysterious Dominican cousin to take steroids to try and get the sport to be popular and relevant again. That’s the way you fix a sport, right Bud?.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Round 2 March Sippage
Here are the other two brackets...enjoy.
Ozzie Guillen
Peyton Manning
Tommy Lasorda
Michael Wilbon
Bob Costas
Carlos Zambrano
Jimmy Rollins
Dennis Rodman
************************************************
Charles Barkley
Eli Manning
Yao Ming
John Daly
Jim Leyland
Gus Johnson
Rick Sutcliffe
Mike Ditka
Ozzie Guillen
Peyton Manning
Tommy Lasorda
Michael Wilbon
Bob Costas
Carlos Zambrano
Jimmy Rollins
Dennis Rodman
************************************************
Charles Barkley
Eli Manning
Yao Ming
John Daly
Jim Leyland
Gus Johnson
Rick Sutcliffe
Mike Ditka
Smoke Break
“I had a friend was a big baseball player back in high school, he could throw that speed ball by you…” You know the rest. That’s also the only time I want to hear anyone talk about the prolific high school athletic career of anyone.
Yet whenever you run into someone from high school that you played organized sports with, the conversation creepily lurches back to the athletic prowess of your contemporaries on your high school athletic teams.
It’s rehearsed, rehashed and I almost always regurgitate when the conversation comes up. Living in the past is for cowards and losers. This wise quote from a man who has done nothing but financially live off his past more than Michael Jackson.
Between bites, Tony Soprano even said “remember when is the lowest form of conversation,” but it’s a form of conversation that most are comfortable with.
So when you run into any of these people you’re left to make small talk about what was and what could have been. “If we didn’t botch that snap and the quarterback didn’t fumble five times, we would have played for the state title that year.” Yes we would have. Oh balls said the queen, if I had two I'd be king (that's an old Uncle Frank line).
Then you’re forced to deal with the high school revisionists. I believe their ethnicity is one part Mel Kiper Jr., one part Ken Burns, two parts jackass. The talent scouts/historians always sing the praises of one person who in their mind could have played Division One football. Never mind the linebacker was 5’9, slower than Dick Vitale’s mental math skills and didn’t fit into any one position. (The linebacker can be read every Wednesday on CTT).
There’s no denying that playing sports in high school lays the groundwork for many outstanding friendships that still endure years after graduation. Many of the basic lessons of treating people with respect and conducting yourself as a human being are crafted on how well you perform under duress and how you cope with failure. There is no discredit to playing sports in high school, but there’s a certain nastiness that accompanies sharing tales of gridiron glory.
So, in my enduring crusade to make the world a better place (have you received my petition to make Jim Belushi the ambassador to Pakistan?) there are certain steps one can take to rid themselves of the annoyance that these historians bring us:
1. Make up a story: If you’re just in the second quarter of a Gulliver Travel-sized tale regarding the second game of your senior season, make up something to confuse the storyteller. When he comes at you with “Remember when Thomas hit two threes coming off screen-and-rolls to give us a seven point lead?” Rebut with, “Yea, it was right after Sister Alex decided to flash the scorekeeper!” It should scare the Dickens out of him and shut him up.
2. Produce amnesia: Ask your buddy for some background information on every name he mentions. “What did Brekston do?” “How was Timmons the running back? I thought he was in prison?” “Wasn’t Jennings the wide receiver who knocked up his girlfriend before he left for Iraq?” Your friend will be so perplexed he will lose interest in telling his story.
3. Fake a bladder control problem: The storyteller should understand. It’s a going problem, not a growing problem.
4. Walk away: Just like that…
Yet whenever you run into someone from high school that you played organized sports with, the conversation creepily lurches back to the athletic prowess of your contemporaries on your high school athletic teams.
It’s rehearsed, rehashed and I almost always regurgitate when the conversation comes up. Living in the past is for cowards and losers. This wise quote from a man who has done nothing but financially live off his past more than Michael Jackson.
Between bites, Tony Soprano even said “remember when is the lowest form of conversation,” but it’s a form of conversation that most are comfortable with.
So when you run into any of these people you’re left to make small talk about what was and what could have been. “If we didn’t botch that snap and the quarterback didn’t fumble five times, we would have played for the state title that year.” Yes we would have. Oh balls said the queen, if I had two I'd be king (that's an old Uncle Frank line).
Then you’re forced to deal with the high school revisionists. I believe their ethnicity is one part Mel Kiper Jr., one part Ken Burns, two parts jackass. The talent scouts/historians always sing the praises of one person who in their mind could have played Division One football. Never mind the linebacker was 5’9, slower than Dick Vitale’s mental math skills and didn’t fit into any one position. (The linebacker can be read every Wednesday on CTT).
There’s no denying that playing sports in high school lays the groundwork for many outstanding friendships that still endure years after graduation. Many of the basic lessons of treating people with respect and conducting yourself as a human being are crafted on how well you perform under duress and how you cope with failure. There is no discredit to playing sports in high school, but there’s a certain nastiness that accompanies sharing tales of gridiron glory.
So, in my enduring crusade to make the world a better place (have you received my petition to make Jim Belushi the ambassador to Pakistan?) there are certain steps one can take to rid themselves of the annoyance that these historians bring us:
1. Make up a story: If you’re just in the second quarter of a Gulliver Travel-sized tale regarding the second game of your senior season, make up something to confuse the storyteller. When he comes at you with “Remember when Thomas hit two threes coming off screen-and-rolls to give us a seven point lead?” Rebut with, “Yea, it was right after Sister Alex decided to flash the scorekeeper!” It should scare the Dickens out of him and shut him up.
2. Produce amnesia: Ask your buddy for some background information on every name he mentions. “What did Brekston do?” “How was Timmons the running back? I thought he was in prison?” “Wasn’t Jennings the wide receiver who knocked up his girlfriend before he left for Iraq?” Your friend will be so perplexed he will lose interest in telling his story.
3. Fake a bladder control problem: The storyteller should understand. It’s a going problem, not a growing problem.
4. Walk away: Just like that…
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Realizations
"WE Are The Champions"
I have often been a fan of using the word “we” when I speak about my favorite sports teams. This has lead to endless ridicule and public humiliation, courtesy of my friends and most notably the creator of this fine publication. So, to all of you “we” users out there… this is me standing up for you! I am not a fan of Mike and Mike, but I did hear this subject come up on a commercial (what I could make out through the swallowing of speech by the adjacent cheeks). I have had hour long debates with friends and foes on the issue, so here we go.
I was not blessed with height. I was not blessed with an intimidating physical stature. I was not blessed with an obscene amount of athletic ability. I like to think I am an above average golfer and I can knock down the cliché amount of open three pointers for a short and scrawny Caucasian. These attributes have forced me to remain connected to sports in other ways besides actually playing them.
I grow a special bond with the teams I root for, none more so than MY Indiana Hoosiers. Since I had the privilege of being a graduate of this fine university, I feel a sense of attachment. When cheering them to victory (or 20 some odd defeats) it is my duty to give it all I have. Please do not get this act confused with maintaining a sense of perspective. Referees do not win or lose games… unless you are the Denver Broncos.
Fans are a bigger part of the game than ever before. Home court/field advantage can have an enormous effect on the outcome of a game. Go to Lucas Oil stadium and make loud noises when Peyton is under center… I dare you.
Neh-sayers believe that no one but players on the actual roster should use the word “we” when discussing the team. Usually this argument is coming from a current or former jock. Like somehow if the word “we” is used by a sports fan it somehow diminishes from your sense of team or will strike your three and a half career sacks from the record books. Honestly, if the athlete expects the fan to look the other way when it comes to off the field/court incidents… the athlete can return the favor. After all, it is the fan who ultimately pays the salaries.
The rules are simple. The kicker is you must maintain the usage of the word “we” when your team loses… or hires a coach who has addiction to cell phones. You must own up to mistakes, playoff losses and horrible personnel moves. You must always, always maintain perspective. You must never become obnoxious. You can not bring up your team in conversation simply to use the word “we”. The “we rule” is in effect for casual situations. Do not use “we” in an argument, it’s like calling the other person a meanie-head. Show your pride and your allegiance without shoving it where it does not belong… much like the aforementioned Tim Tebow/religion debate. And finally, do not under any circumstances, over use the word “we”. “We” is a safety net. It is understandable to be extremely attached to your team and an occasional “we” drop is acceptable.
These are the standards I have set for myself. You may disagree, which is fine… we wouldn’t have gotten along anyway and you probably have three and a half career sacks.
I have often been a fan of using the word “we” when I speak about my favorite sports teams. This has lead to endless ridicule and public humiliation, courtesy of my friends and most notably the creator of this fine publication. So, to all of you “we” users out there… this is me standing up for you! I am not a fan of Mike and Mike, but I did hear this subject come up on a commercial (what I could make out through the swallowing of speech by the adjacent cheeks). I have had hour long debates with friends and foes on the issue, so here we go.
I was not blessed with height. I was not blessed with an intimidating physical stature. I was not blessed with an obscene amount of athletic ability. I like to think I am an above average golfer and I can knock down the cliché amount of open three pointers for a short and scrawny Caucasian. These attributes have forced me to remain connected to sports in other ways besides actually playing them.
I grow a special bond with the teams I root for, none more so than MY Indiana Hoosiers. Since I had the privilege of being a graduate of this fine university, I feel a sense of attachment. When cheering them to victory (or 20 some odd defeats) it is my duty to give it all I have. Please do not get this act confused with maintaining a sense of perspective. Referees do not win or lose games… unless you are the Denver Broncos.
Fans are a bigger part of the game than ever before. Home court/field advantage can have an enormous effect on the outcome of a game. Go to Lucas Oil stadium and make loud noises when Peyton is under center… I dare you.
Neh-sayers believe that no one but players on the actual roster should use the word “we” when discussing the team. Usually this argument is coming from a current or former jock. Like somehow if the word “we” is used by a sports fan it somehow diminishes from your sense of team or will strike your three and a half career sacks from the record books. Honestly, if the athlete expects the fan to look the other way when it comes to off the field/court incidents… the athlete can return the favor. After all, it is the fan who ultimately pays the salaries.
The rules are simple. The kicker is you must maintain the usage of the word “we” when your team loses… or hires a coach who has addiction to cell phones. You must own up to mistakes, playoff losses and horrible personnel moves. You must always, always maintain perspective. You must never become obnoxious. You can not bring up your team in conversation simply to use the word “we”. The “we rule” is in effect for casual situations. Do not use “we” in an argument, it’s like calling the other person a meanie-head. Show your pride and your allegiance without shoving it where it does not belong… much like the aforementioned Tim Tebow/religion debate. And finally, do not under any circumstances, over use the word “we”. “We” is a safety net. It is understandable to be extremely attached to your team and an occasional “we” drop is acceptable.
These are the standards I have set for myself. You may disagree, which is fine… we wouldn’t have gotten along anyway and you probably have three and a half career sacks.
Round 1 Results
Here are the match-ups in round 2 of "March Sippage."
Please Vote for these matchups...anyone please vote. Vote twice if you need to.
Lou Piniella
Bobby Knight
Warren Sapp
Michael Jordan
Floyd Mayweather Jr.
Jim Thome
Tony Kornheiser
Jim Mora
*****************************
Jerry Jones
Joe Paterno
Mark Grace
Pete Rose
Michael Irvin
Ron Gardenhire
Steve Rushin
Scott Van Pelt
Please Vote for these matchups...anyone please vote. Vote twice if you need to.
Lou Piniella
Bobby Knight
Warren Sapp
Michael Jordan
Floyd Mayweather Jr.
Jim Thome
Tony Kornheiser
Jim Mora
*****************************
Jerry Jones
Joe Paterno
Mark Grace
Pete Rose
Michael Irvin
Ron Gardenhire
Steve Rushin
Scott Van Pelt
Monday, March 23, 2009
AMusings
Little League = Big Fun
Springtime means one thing for gentlemen between the ages of 9-16: it is time for little league to begin. My little league memories are some of my favorite memories of my whole life. The season begins around late March when you are drafted either by a father of one of your league mates, or a volunteer coach who sends off pedophiliac waves a mile long. That coach then calls you and alerts you that you have been drafted by him and his team. That is not important at all. The next day in school is important. You get to ask your friends whose teams they are on, and see if any of them are your teammates.
That situation was always a little hard for me because I wasn’t very good. Who the hell am I kidding? I was terrible. I played my allotted 3 innings in right field, batted last in the order, and often times found myself not even having to shower post game on a 90 degree day because I didn’t move around enough to work up a sweat. When my teammates saw me walk into the first practice there would be audible moans and groans, and at least one chuckle as I lumbered towards the dugout.
I don’t want to say that I was not an important part of the team. I mean, sunflower seeds needed to be eaten, the scorebook needed to be kept, and the mothers in the stands needed a good conversationalist. I excelled at all three.
The next step in little league was practice. Every other day in my world, we would go out there, field ground balls and pop ups, and learn the correct way to baserun. (Due to my healthy figure, I was only allowed to lead off of first base with one step, while the others were allowed to walk half way to second.)
Batting practice usually didn’t start until about 2 or 3 weeks prior to opening day. This was one of the more embarrassing points in the season for me. I couldn’t hit in July. How the hell was I going to make contact when I hadn’t picked up a bat in 6 months, and my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sweatshirt was too small and cutting off circulation to my all important wrists?
The final obstacle towards opening day was picture day. I know this may surprise those of you who have seen my profile picture here at Celebrate the Temporary, but I’m not a terribly photogenic person. I don’t blame the photographers though, I blame the fact that I am a morbidly obese man who looks strangely like Rosie O’Donnell.
During picture day there were three things you had to do. First, you had to line up in order according to height. This was no problem, I was usually towards the back of the line with boys about my height, half my weight, and twice my talent. (Baseball talent. Not sunflower seed eating talent. I’m unparalleled there.) Second step was a little more simple. You had to take a team picture. Luckily I never had to sit Indian style in the front of the picture, but I always felt bad for the kids that did. The baseball picture Indian style sitting is different than your everyday Indian style sitting. Your knees had to be brought up to at least your ears so it looked like you were some type of human rhombus in a Cleveland Indians uniform.
By the way, I think Indian Style is still politically correct. If not, I apologize. However, if you are offended by it, you shouldn’t be. I sit that way all the time. It’s very, very comfortable.
The third and final step was to take your individual picture. You had to stand in front of an artificial background which was meant to look like you standing in front of a stadium full of people (represented by blue, red and yellow circles….very realistic if you are playing at Crayola Park). The photographer, who undoubtedly had never seen a baseball in his entire life, then handed you the heaviest baseball bat ever created and asked you to smile. So you did. And out came some of the most embarrassing pictures of my childhood.
So now you have reached opening day. Here in Chicago it was usually the last weekend of April which meant the game was either snowed out or postponed due to the cold weather. (Side note: I was always happy when games were postponed due to cold weather. I didn’t own batting gloves, and God forbid I make contact with a pitch, that would sting for days). Despite the games not going on that day, do you know what was never ever cancelled? If you answered the opening day parade you are correct!!
Mothers would line the streets and tell their “babies” how handsome they looked in their $8 Tigers jersey and ill-fitting grey baseball pants. Fathers would be standing next to them drinking “coffee” from their thermos and telling the other fathers how they would be a much better coach than “this guy” but they just don’t have the time.
As for us players (yes, I know I’m using the term loosely, but we paid the entrance fee), we had to walk around waving at people we didn’t know. Why? I haven’t got the slightest idea. No clue whatsoever. A parade is traditionally filled with people who want to be there, not 200 9-16 year olds who are upset that you’ve woken them up prior to 8am for a baseball parade on a Saturday when their damn game has been cancelled.
The little league baseball season was too fast. We played 15 games, and then everyone made the playoffs. Then, summer was over. Wait. What? The season ended before the fourth of July? What the hell was that all about? We couldn’t have played more than 15 games and played until August? Very stupid.
Everyone played little league at some point, and I think we are glad that we did. I miss it as a 25 year old man. I liked the excitement, the competition, the new friends made, and that one coach who kept inviting me over to his house for sleepovers. I declined, but in a totally unrelated note, these days he is not allowed to open the door on Halloween.
Springtime means one thing for gentlemen between the ages of 9-16: it is time for little league to begin. My little league memories are some of my favorite memories of my whole life. The season begins around late March when you are drafted either by a father of one of your league mates, or a volunteer coach who sends off pedophiliac waves a mile long. That coach then calls you and alerts you that you have been drafted by him and his team. That is not important at all. The next day in school is important. You get to ask your friends whose teams they are on, and see if any of them are your teammates.
That situation was always a little hard for me because I wasn’t very good. Who the hell am I kidding? I was terrible. I played my allotted 3 innings in right field, batted last in the order, and often times found myself not even having to shower post game on a 90 degree day because I didn’t move around enough to work up a sweat. When my teammates saw me walk into the first practice there would be audible moans and groans, and at least one chuckle as I lumbered towards the dugout.
I don’t want to say that I was not an important part of the team. I mean, sunflower seeds needed to be eaten, the scorebook needed to be kept, and the mothers in the stands needed a good conversationalist. I excelled at all three.
The next step in little league was practice. Every other day in my world, we would go out there, field ground balls and pop ups, and learn the correct way to baserun. (Due to my healthy figure, I was only allowed to lead off of first base with one step, while the others were allowed to walk half way to second.)
Batting practice usually didn’t start until about 2 or 3 weeks prior to opening day. This was one of the more embarrassing points in the season for me. I couldn’t hit in July. How the hell was I going to make contact when I hadn’t picked up a bat in 6 months, and my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sweatshirt was too small and cutting off circulation to my all important wrists?
The final obstacle towards opening day was picture day. I know this may surprise those of you who have seen my profile picture here at Celebrate the Temporary, but I’m not a terribly photogenic person. I don’t blame the photographers though, I blame the fact that I am a morbidly obese man who looks strangely like Rosie O’Donnell.
During picture day there were three things you had to do. First, you had to line up in order according to height. This was no problem, I was usually towards the back of the line with boys about my height, half my weight, and twice my talent. (Baseball talent. Not sunflower seed eating talent. I’m unparalleled there.) Second step was a little more simple. You had to take a team picture. Luckily I never had to sit Indian style in the front of the picture, but I always felt bad for the kids that did. The baseball picture Indian style sitting is different than your everyday Indian style sitting. Your knees had to be brought up to at least your ears so it looked like you were some type of human rhombus in a Cleveland Indians uniform.
By the way, I think Indian Style is still politically correct. If not, I apologize. However, if you are offended by it, you shouldn’t be. I sit that way all the time. It’s very, very comfortable.
The third and final step was to take your individual picture. You had to stand in front of an artificial background which was meant to look like you standing in front of a stadium full of people (represented by blue, red and yellow circles….very realistic if you are playing at Crayola Park). The photographer, who undoubtedly had never seen a baseball in his entire life, then handed you the heaviest baseball bat ever created and asked you to smile. So you did. And out came some of the most embarrassing pictures of my childhood.
So now you have reached opening day. Here in Chicago it was usually the last weekend of April which meant the game was either snowed out or postponed due to the cold weather. (Side note: I was always happy when games were postponed due to cold weather. I didn’t own batting gloves, and God forbid I make contact with a pitch, that would sting for days). Despite the games not going on that day, do you know what was never ever cancelled? If you answered the opening day parade you are correct!!
Mothers would line the streets and tell their “babies” how handsome they looked in their $8 Tigers jersey and ill-fitting grey baseball pants. Fathers would be standing next to them drinking “coffee” from their thermos and telling the other fathers how they would be a much better coach than “this guy” but they just don’t have the time.
As for us players (yes, I know I’m using the term loosely, but we paid the entrance fee), we had to walk around waving at people we didn’t know. Why? I haven’t got the slightest idea. No clue whatsoever. A parade is traditionally filled with people who want to be there, not 200 9-16 year olds who are upset that you’ve woken them up prior to 8am for a baseball parade on a Saturday when their damn game has been cancelled.
The little league baseball season was too fast. We played 15 games, and then everyone made the playoffs. Then, summer was over. Wait. What? The season ended before the fourth of July? What the hell was that all about? We couldn’t have played more than 15 games and played until August? Very stupid.
Everyone played little league at some point, and I think we are glad that we did. I miss it as a 25 year old man. I liked the excitement, the competition, the new friends made, and that one coach who kept inviting me over to his house for sleepovers. I declined, but in a totally unrelated note, these days he is not allowed to open the door on Halloween.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Friday Night Lights
UnderappreciatED
Unlike any other sport at any other level in the United States, and especially during March Madness, college basketball is universal. Everyone in the workplace, from the bald executive in the spacious corner office to the prematurely balding employee in the cramped cubicle who's writing this article, fills out a bracket, submits it to the finance guys who run the pool by default (or birthright), and hopes for Cinderellas from directional schools in directional conferences to knock off drab, overrated squads from the Big Ten and the Pac-10.
This scene plays out from sea to shining sea, from Maine to Hawaii, Alaska to Florida, and everywhere in between. It's electric for many reasons -- the thrill of clicking out of a spreadsheet to sneak a few minutes of the early game before lunch, the joy of tiny schools like Hampton knocking off power conference darlings that didn't have their best days on the court, and the pride that comes from seeing your alma mater competing in the sports world's version of Hanukkah -- eight crazy nights of the best competition any rabid sports fan could envision.
Just like everyone in the office has their favorite team, every fan has their least favorite player, the pariah (or golden boy) who inspires feelings of wrath and annoyance. Usually, this honor is split regionally, with the honor for "most hated" going to overcelebrated whiners like Christian Laettner or J.J. Redick. Unlike most years though, 2009's least favorite player by unanimous decision is Eric Devendorf.
Devendorf began earning his reputation early in the 2008-09 campaign, when he was arrested in November for striking a female acquaintance who was unlucky enough to be in the wrong place (that is, hanging out with Eric Devendorf) at the wrong time. He missed two games after being suspended by Syracuse's student conduct board for his offense, then promptly brought his antics back to the court.
This was most noticeable in the Big East Tournament, where Devendorf began his tournament of trash-talking with alternating episodes of false bravado and unnecessary woofing during a game against Seton Hall. Divine intervention (Devendorf's barely-late, last-second buzzer beater that would have beaten UConn at the end of regulation) didn't go far enough as our antagonist was allowed to play the rest of the tournament.
His behavior continued throughout the tournament, despite the fact that even parents Curt and Cindy Devendorf were probably joining all of Madison Square Garden in wishing that after his senior season, their only son would be coming off the bench as the eighth man for a third-division Polish team in a hardscrabble city like Wroclaw, traveling around by bus or unreliable train to gritty Eastern European locales, playing in front of fans that have not yet grasped the concepts of indoor plumbing or the use of vowels.
At this point, the hate for Devendorf has reached epic proportions. So I thought I'd use my public forum to write a brief list of good things about Eric. I feel it is my duty to prepare fans for his performance before the Orange take on Stephen F. Austin today. So without further ado, ten good things about Eric Devendorf:
1) The tattoo on Devendorf's right shoulder (basketball in the middle of a cross) almost exactly resembles a sample from the create-a-player mode of NBA 2k1 for the Sega Dreamcast
2) Sometimes it's nice to hear an E.D. reference without dropping the name of Viagra, Cialis, or Levitra
3) Devendorf is pursuing a degree in communications and rhetorical studies, which will prepare him well for a lifetime of circuit court appearances for petty crimes
4) #3 assumes he'll get his degree. Never mind.
5) The tattoo on the back of his neck, for his daughter, Madelyn, was constructed very artfully
6) Steadfastly maintains street image despite being from a town about as far north and as far right as Wasilla, Alaska
7) Devendorf has two sisters, who presumably, he has not punched in the face (recently)
8) Reneged on a verbal commitment to Michigan State -- Kalin Lucas is infinitely more exciting than Devendorf
9) Devendorf's urban image has increased the Orange fanbase at Rikers Island, especially when compared with the Gerry McNamara era
10) He actually considered going straight from Oak Hill Academy to the NBA -- good to see that his ego has always been in check
See, don't you like him more already?
Happy Bracketology everyone -- ring out ahoya this morning if you can.
Unlike any other sport at any other level in the United States, and especially during March Madness, college basketball is universal. Everyone in the workplace, from the bald executive in the spacious corner office to the prematurely balding employee in the cramped cubicle who's writing this article, fills out a bracket, submits it to the finance guys who run the pool by default (or birthright), and hopes for Cinderellas from directional schools in directional conferences to knock off drab, overrated squads from the Big Ten and the Pac-10.
This scene plays out from sea to shining sea, from Maine to Hawaii, Alaska to Florida, and everywhere in between. It's electric for many reasons -- the thrill of clicking out of a spreadsheet to sneak a few minutes of the early game before lunch, the joy of tiny schools like Hampton knocking off power conference darlings that didn't have their best days on the court, and the pride that comes from seeing your alma mater competing in the sports world's version of Hanukkah -- eight crazy nights of the best competition any rabid sports fan could envision.
Just like everyone in the office has their favorite team, every fan has their least favorite player, the pariah (or golden boy) who inspires feelings of wrath and annoyance. Usually, this honor is split regionally, with the honor for "most hated" going to overcelebrated whiners like Christian Laettner or J.J. Redick. Unlike most years though, 2009's least favorite player by unanimous decision is Eric Devendorf.
Devendorf began earning his reputation early in the 2008-09 campaign, when he was arrested in November for striking a female acquaintance who was unlucky enough to be in the wrong place (that is, hanging out with Eric Devendorf) at the wrong time. He missed two games after being suspended by Syracuse's student conduct board for his offense, then promptly brought his antics back to the court.
This was most noticeable in the Big East Tournament, where Devendorf began his tournament of trash-talking with alternating episodes of false bravado and unnecessary woofing during a game against Seton Hall. Divine intervention (Devendorf's barely-late, last-second buzzer beater that would have beaten UConn at the end of regulation) didn't go far enough as our antagonist was allowed to play the rest of the tournament.
His behavior continued throughout the tournament, despite the fact that even parents Curt and Cindy Devendorf were probably joining all of Madison Square Garden in wishing that after his senior season, their only son would be coming off the bench as the eighth man for a third-division Polish team in a hardscrabble city like Wroclaw, traveling around by bus or unreliable train to gritty Eastern European locales, playing in front of fans that have not yet grasped the concepts of indoor plumbing or the use of vowels.
At this point, the hate for Devendorf has reached epic proportions. So I thought I'd use my public forum to write a brief list of good things about Eric. I feel it is my duty to prepare fans for his performance before the Orange take on Stephen F. Austin today. So without further ado, ten good things about Eric Devendorf:
1) The tattoo on Devendorf's right shoulder (basketball in the middle of a cross) almost exactly resembles a sample from the create-a-player mode of NBA 2k1 for the Sega Dreamcast
2) Sometimes it's nice to hear an E.D. reference without dropping the name of Viagra, Cialis, or Levitra
3) Devendorf is pursuing a degree in communications and rhetorical studies, which will prepare him well for a lifetime of circuit court appearances for petty crimes
4) #3 assumes he'll get his degree. Never mind.
5) The tattoo on the back of his neck, for his daughter, Madelyn, was constructed very artfully
6) Steadfastly maintains street image despite being from a town about as far north and as far right as Wasilla, Alaska
7) Devendorf has two sisters, who presumably, he has not punched in the face (recently)
8) Reneged on a verbal commitment to Michigan State -- Kalin Lucas is infinitely more exciting than Devendorf
9) Devendorf's urban image has increased the Orange fanbase at Rikers Island, especially when compared with the Gerry McNamara era
10) He actually considered going straight from Oak Hill Academy to the NBA -- good to see that his ego has always been in check
See, don't you like him more already?
Happy Bracketology everyone -- ring out ahoya this morning if you can.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Tournament Part 2 round 1
Dingles Region
Ozzie Guillen
Chris Cooley
Tommy Lasorda
Jamal Anderson
Bob Costas
Shane Battier
Jack McKeon
Jimmy Rollins
Pat Summerall
Dennis Rodman
Carloz Zambrano
William Petty
Michael Wilbon
Darryl Strawberry
Peyton Manning
Randy Moss
Ozzie Guillen
Chris Cooley
Tommy Lasorda
Jamal Anderson
Bob Costas
Shane Battier
Jack McKeon
Jimmy Rollins
Pat Summerall
Dennis Rodman
Carloz Zambrano
William Petty
Michael Wilbon
Darryl Strawberry
Peyton Manning
Randy Moss
Tournament Part 2 round 1
Bink Region
Charles Barkley
Darren Daulton
Bill Rafferty
Yao Ming
Jim Leyland
Rick Reily
Rick Sutcliffe
Jay Bilas
Mike Ditka
Allen Iverson
Gus Johnson
Keith Jackson
Colin Cowherd
John Daly
Eli Manning
Big Cat Williams
Charles Barkley
Darren Daulton
Bill Rafferty
Yao Ming
Jim Leyland
Rick Reily
Rick Sutcliffe
Jay Bilas
Mike Ditka
Allen Iverson
Gus Johnson
Keith Jackson
Colin Cowherd
John Daly
Eli Manning
Big Cat Williams
Cousin Bink's Country Beer Jamboree
Volume 1, Issue 5
Later today (or currently, depending on when you're reading this) the scene will be the same at countless water holes around the country. Grown men will be yelling, giving high fives and firing off expletives at 20 year old college students from places they didn't know existed until they filled out their brackets earlier in the week. I offer you one plea as the NCAA tournament comes around again: chill out.
There are 64 teams in the tournament. For the millions that fill out a bracket each year that's 1/64 chance of picking the winner, or a 15% chance you randomly pick the winner. Now of course all teams aren't equal (Pittsburgh against East Tennessee State?) but technically everyone has the same amount of a shot at winning.
And no one wants to hear you at the bar talking about how you picked Stephen F. Austin as your upset pick but those damn Syracuse Orange somehow squeaked past them, and don't you think the ref was calling the game for Syracuse? No Syracuse is a much better team and won for a reason. Then the bartender tells the guy his $40 tab on $1.50 beer night needs to be paid.
I don't want to forgot the braggadocios guys who made all the right picks all day and no one else in the whole wide world saw them coming. "Hey you watching this one buddy? UConn's up 25 on Chattanooga, and I got them making the elite 8. Look's I can really pick 'em uh?" Yeah you picked a team that was ranked #1 three times in the season and thought they'd make it to the final 8 teams in the country, sure no one else has them. "Well I liked the Illini's D, but I just felt they wouldn't be able to stay with the upbeat offense of Western Kentucky so I went with my gut and went upset for the Hilltoppers and now I'm leading one of my 13 online brackets." Great that maybe because every single expert had U of I on upset watch, but nah, you're just such a student of the game. And it isn't ballsy to pick a 9 over an 8 as some stranger told me at a bar last year.
The point I'm trying to get across is enjoy this time of the year. The next three weekends are filled with 63 college basketball games, as well as Opening Day of baseball at the very end. But that's the main point, enjoy it. If Wisconsin knocks off your special elite 8 pick Florida State don't let it ruin your night. Hope your other teams pan out, and even if those suck also, say screw it and just enjoy the games.
I'm mainly talking to those of my ilk who aren't the biggest followers of college basketball. I watched the conference tournaments last week and know a little bit throughout the season by reading Sports Illustrated. I entered three pools, two for free online and one at work for $10. If I lose oh well, it's just a bucket of beer on that $1.50 beer night at the bar I was talking about. If I win...well that $1.50 beer night will be a long one.
Later today (or currently, depending on when you're reading this) the scene will be the same at countless water holes around the country. Grown men will be yelling, giving high fives and firing off expletives at 20 year old college students from places they didn't know existed until they filled out their brackets earlier in the week. I offer you one plea as the NCAA tournament comes around again: chill out.
There are 64 teams in the tournament. For the millions that fill out a bracket each year that's 1/64 chance of picking the winner, or a 15% chance you randomly pick the winner. Now of course all teams aren't equal (Pittsburgh against East Tennessee State?) but technically everyone has the same amount of a shot at winning.
And no one wants to hear you at the bar talking about how you picked Stephen F. Austin as your upset pick but those damn Syracuse Orange somehow squeaked past them, and don't you think the ref was calling the game for Syracuse? No Syracuse is a much better team and won for a reason. Then the bartender tells the guy his $40 tab on $1.50 beer night needs to be paid.
I don't want to forgot the braggadocios guys who made all the right picks all day and no one else in the whole wide world saw them coming. "Hey you watching this one buddy? UConn's up 25 on Chattanooga, and I got them making the elite 8. Look's I can really pick 'em uh?" Yeah you picked a team that was ranked #1 three times in the season and thought they'd make it to the final 8 teams in the country, sure no one else has them. "Well I liked the Illini's D, but I just felt they wouldn't be able to stay with the upbeat offense of Western Kentucky so I went with my gut and went upset for the Hilltoppers and now I'm leading one of my 13 online brackets." Great that maybe because every single expert had U of I on upset watch, but nah, you're just such a student of the game. And it isn't ballsy to pick a 9 over an 8 as some stranger told me at a bar last year.
The point I'm trying to get across is enjoy this time of the year. The next three weekends are filled with 63 college basketball games, as well as Opening Day of baseball at the very end. But that's the main point, enjoy it. If Wisconsin knocks off your special elite 8 pick Florida State don't let it ruin your night. Hope your other teams pan out, and even if those suck also, say screw it and just enjoy the games.
I'm mainly talking to those of my ilk who aren't the biggest followers of college basketball. I watched the conference tournaments last week and know a little bit throughout the season by reading Sports Illustrated. I entered three pools, two for free online and one at work for $10. If I lose oh well, it's just a bucket of beer on that $1.50 beer night at the bar I was talking about. If I win...well that $1.50 beer night will be a long one.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tournament
In order to drum up a few more votes, The first round games from Tuesday will stay up through today. We will then position the following rounds to give people two days to vote.
Smoke Break
The “Dennis Rodman Meltdown” has peppered commercials on NBC for the past few days. Seems Rodman lays his hands on country megastar (the word “megastar” is used in its loosest sense) Clink Black on the next episode of “The Apprentice.” I’m guessing Rodman has never heard Black’s music, otherwise he would have been inclined to use brass knuckles.
Rodman’s outburst ear-marks another public meltdown that has become “The Worm’s” M.O. since his professional basketball career began.
The John Stockton head-butting, cameraman groin-kicking Rodman made headlines for the wrong reasons most of the time. His antics since he retired are nothing short of bizarre and tacky on the level of Aeropostale. His behavior: bizarre. The hair color: needy. The piercings: strange. The only thing consistent was the way he played basketball: Beautifully and unselfishly on the cusp of perfection.
Turn on an NBA game in the late 90’s and Rodman was the first person you noticed. While the hair might have drawn you in, the rebounding kept me interested. Rodman prided himself on tipping, tapping, kicking and grabbing to get himself a rebound. He made no bones about the fact that he didn’t care about scoring (though in later years with the Bulls his three-point attempts were the equivalent of giving your little cousin a Sega controller without plugging it into the console).
Grabbing a defensive rebound, Rodman would tip the ball to himself until he controlled it with both hands while both of his feet were in the air. As his hands were coming down, Rodman would plant one foot and use the momentum he created to outlet the ball down the court to a teammate for an easy basket. At a small 6’6 Rodman would figure to be out-rebounded by most of the centers that had a few inches on him, but he had pristine positioning. If a center grabbed a rebound, they typically had to go over the back on Rodman, picking up a foul in the process.
While others prided themselves on lining up just outside the three-point line and the rest found few shots they despised, Rodman made his teams better by not shooting. He didn’t have to. Never has one player created so much by staying out of offensive sets.
Then there was his defense. Rodman not only defended players. He rattled them. Alonzo Mourning grew more concerned with planting a foot in Rodman than beating the Bulls. Shaquille O’Neal couldn’t handle Rodman’s antics. He had a way of getting under everyone’s skin yet he still had a way of looking composed for a man with gold hair and tattoos covering every inch of his body.
Many former players will tell tales of Rodman arriving late, or hung-over and often times both, but the stories are always coupled with the fact that Rodman always knew what he was doing on the court. Phil Jackson called him one of the smartest players he had ever coached. Is it any surprise that Rodman was a winner everywhere he went?
Granted, Isaiah Thomas, David Robinson, Vinnie Del Negro (wanted to see if you were awake) and Michael Jordan had a lot to do with that, but Rodman was vital to the success each team had. He gave those teams countless second chances.
Call him a goof, and I won’t disagree. Chide him as a joker and you have no debate here. But call him a bad basketball player and his NBA Championships will surely change your opinion.
Rodman’s outburst ear-marks another public meltdown that has become “The Worm’s” M.O. since his professional basketball career began.
The John Stockton head-butting, cameraman groin-kicking Rodman made headlines for the wrong reasons most of the time. His antics since he retired are nothing short of bizarre and tacky on the level of Aeropostale. His behavior: bizarre. The hair color: needy. The piercings: strange. The only thing consistent was the way he played basketball: Beautifully and unselfishly on the cusp of perfection.
Turn on an NBA game in the late 90’s and Rodman was the first person you noticed. While the hair might have drawn you in, the rebounding kept me interested. Rodman prided himself on tipping, tapping, kicking and grabbing to get himself a rebound. He made no bones about the fact that he didn’t care about scoring (though in later years with the Bulls his three-point attempts were the equivalent of giving your little cousin a Sega controller without plugging it into the console).
Grabbing a defensive rebound, Rodman would tip the ball to himself until he controlled it with both hands while both of his feet were in the air. As his hands were coming down, Rodman would plant one foot and use the momentum he created to outlet the ball down the court to a teammate for an easy basket. At a small 6’6 Rodman would figure to be out-rebounded by most of the centers that had a few inches on him, but he had pristine positioning. If a center grabbed a rebound, they typically had to go over the back on Rodman, picking up a foul in the process.
While others prided themselves on lining up just outside the three-point line and the rest found few shots they despised, Rodman made his teams better by not shooting. He didn’t have to. Never has one player created so much by staying out of offensive sets.
Then there was his defense. Rodman not only defended players. He rattled them. Alonzo Mourning grew more concerned with planting a foot in Rodman than beating the Bulls. Shaquille O’Neal couldn’t handle Rodman’s antics. He had a way of getting under everyone’s skin yet he still had a way of looking composed for a man with gold hair and tattoos covering every inch of his body.
Many former players will tell tales of Rodman arriving late, or hung-over and often times both, but the stories are always coupled with the fact that Rodman always knew what he was doing on the court. Phil Jackson called him one of the smartest players he had ever coached. Is it any surprise that Rodman was a winner everywhere he went?
Granted, Isaiah Thomas, David Robinson, Vinnie Del Negro (wanted to see if you were awake) and Michael Jordan had a lot to do with that, but Rodman was vital to the success each team had. He gave those teams countless second chances.
Call him a goof, and I won’t disagree. Chide him as a joker and you have no debate here. But call him a bad basketball player and his NBA Championships will surely change your opinion.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
CTB/Weaves Region
Here are the rules:
Select the winner of each first round game, just type their first name in the comments section. In case of a tie there will be a vote amongst the bloggers. Thanks and happy blogging.
CTB Region
Lou Piniella
Buzz Williams
Warren Sapp
Doug Gotlieb
Floyd Mayweather
Alex Rodriguez
Tony Kornheiser
Peter King
Jim Mora
Ickey Woods
Ed Hocule
Jim Thome
Michael Jordan
Gilbert Arenas
George Steinbrenner
Bobby Knight
Weaves Region
Jerry Jones
Peter Jacobsen
Mark Grace
Curt Schilling
Michael Irvin
Ron Artest
Steve Rushin
Mike Lavalliare
Scott Van Pelt
Kirk Herbstreit
Ron Gardenhire
Greg Oden
Pete Rose
John Wooden
Joe Paterno
Verne Lundquist
Select the winner of each first round game, just type their first name in the comments section. In case of a tie there will be a vote amongst the bloggers. Thanks and happy blogging.
CTB Region
Lou Piniella
Buzz Williams
Warren Sapp
Doug Gotlieb
Floyd Mayweather
Alex Rodriguez
Tony Kornheiser
Peter King
Jim Mora
Ickey Woods
Ed Hocule
Jim Thome
Michael Jordan
Gilbert Arenas
George Steinbrenner
Bobby Knight
Weaves Region
Jerry Jones
Peter Jacobsen
Mark Grace
Curt Schilling
Michael Irvin
Ron Artest
Steve Rushin
Mike Lavalliare
Scott Van Pelt
Kirk Herbstreit
Ron Gardenhire
Greg Oden
Pete Rose
John Wooden
Joe Paterno
Verne Lundquist
Realizations
No Sympathy For the Little Guy
I have often had a problem with inferior people, places and things who think it is their right to be treated equally. Before I get loads of hate mail, I would like to clarify. Women should be given equal wages to men, they should have the right to vote, and every person should be treated equally as a human being. What I mean by my opening statement is purely in the context of competition. Please do not tell me that Candace Parker could make an NBA roster, I don’t want to hear it. Kurt Rambis would have his way with her in a game of one-on-one. Michelle Wie should not be commended for playing PGA Tour events, she should try to win an LPGA event first.
This same pet peeve of mine is never more evident than in the Monday after the brackets are announced for the Men’s NCAA Tournament. Every single year we have to listen to Dick Vitale “represent the little guy” and cry as to why they got jobbed into not getting a chance to get demolished in the first round. This year is no different.
Contrary to my hip-hop nature, I am of the nonviolent sort. I prefer snooty comebacks and laughs to any sort of physical confrontation. However, last night, it took everything I had to not hurl the closest object within my reach at my television. My cat Sam is extremely thankful I was able to hold back.
It was Dicky V’s opinion that Saint Mary’s deserved a spot in this year’s tournament, instead of the Arizona Wildcats. His argument was based on the fact that unlike their big conference opponents, Saint Mary’s did not have the opportunity to play the big name schools in order to get those ever precious “key wins”. He also highlighted their road wins against Kent State and San Diego State, along with their biggest win of the year… a home victory against Providence. Really? Does Marquette get to say the same thing? Does Louisville get to list Providence as a key victory? It’s a joke. You cannot change the standard and give these smaller schools a helping hand.
Gonzaga, a team in the same conference, went out and played teams like Maryland, Oklahoma State, Tennessee and Connecticut in their non-conference schedule. And your big win is against Providence? You also play in a conference where, if you take out Gonzaga, the rest of the teams went a combined 1-18 vs. teams in the RPI top 50.
But, I have nothing personal against Saint Mary’s. If Patty Mills stays healthy, they are an easy selection to make the tournament, but he didn’t. No, my problem is this notion that we must give the little guys a chance. They do get a chance, just like everyone else. If Saint Mary’s were worthy of a tournament selection then they would not have dropped games against UTEP, Portland and Santa Clara. Meanwhile, the team that has evidentially replaced them with controversy, Arizona, has wins against Gonzaga (who beat Saint Mary’s three times), at Kansas, Washington, USC and UCLA.
I would much rather see a team like Arizona who has been battle tested against very good teams, than a team like Saint Mary’s who hasn’t played anyone. Yes, they can go out and schedule the big boy schools. They instead choose to play Kent State. If you play against lesser competition, you do not earn the right to get the benefit of the doubt.
There will be plenty of upsets, hoops fans. Do not worry your pretty little heads. But it is the job of the tournament selection committee to include the best 34 teams after the automatic bids. If you put Arizona and Saint Mary’s on a neutral floor… well… let’s just say Saint Mary’s would look more like Candace Parker than Kurt Rambis.
I have often had a problem with inferior people, places and things who think it is their right to be treated equally. Before I get loads of hate mail, I would like to clarify. Women should be given equal wages to men, they should have the right to vote, and every person should be treated equally as a human being. What I mean by my opening statement is purely in the context of competition. Please do not tell me that Candace Parker could make an NBA roster, I don’t want to hear it. Kurt Rambis would have his way with her in a game of one-on-one. Michelle Wie should not be commended for playing PGA Tour events, she should try to win an LPGA event first.
This same pet peeve of mine is never more evident than in the Monday after the brackets are announced for the Men’s NCAA Tournament. Every single year we have to listen to Dick Vitale “represent the little guy” and cry as to why they got jobbed into not getting a chance to get demolished in the first round. This year is no different.
Contrary to my hip-hop nature, I am of the nonviolent sort. I prefer snooty comebacks and laughs to any sort of physical confrontation. However, last night, it took everything I had to not hurl the closest object within my reach at my television. My cat Sam is extremely thankful I was able to hold back.
It was Dicky V’s opinion that Saint Mary’s deserved a spot in this year’s tournament, instead of the Arizona Wildcats. His argument was based on the fact that unlike their big conference opponents, Saint Mary’s did not have the opportunity to play the big name schools in order to get those ever precious “key wins”. He also highlighted their road wins against Kent State and San Diego State, along with their biggest win of the year… a home victory against Providence. Really? Does Marquette get to say the same thing? Does Louisville get to list Providence as a key victory? It’s a joke. You cannot change the standard and give these smaller schools a helping hand.
Gonzaga, a team in the same conference, went out and played teams like Maryland, Oklahoma State, Tennessee and Connecticut in their non-conference schedule. And your big win is against Providence? You also play in a conference where, if you take out Gonzaga, the rest of the teams went a combined 1-18 vs. teams in the RPI top 50.
But, I have nothing personal against Saint Mary’s. If Patty Mills stays healthy, they are an easy selection to make the tournament, but he didn’t. No, my problem is this notion that we must give the little guys a chance. They do get a chance, just like everyone else. If Saint Mary’s were worthy of a tournament selection then they would not have dropped games against UTEP, Portland and Santa Clara. Meanwhile, the team that has evidentially replaced them with controversy, Arizona, has wins against Gonzaga (who beat Saint Mary’s three times), at Kansas, Washington, USC and UCLA.
I would much rather see a team like Arizona who has been battle tested against very good teams, than a team like Saint Mary’s who hasn’t played anyone. Yes, they can go out and schedule the big boy schools. They instead choose to play Kent State. If you play against lesser competition, you do not earn the right to get the benefit of the doubt.
There will be plenty of upsets, hoops fans. Do not worry your pretty little heads. But it is the job of the tournament selection committee to include the best 34 teams after the automatic bids. If you put Arizona and Saint Mary’s on a neutral floor… well… let’s just say Saint Mary’s would look more like Candace Parker than Kurt Rambis.
Monday, March 16, 2009
AMusings
The Selective Love of Vince McMahon
With the death of former pro wrestler Andrew “Test” Martin on Friday, it got me thinking about all of the wrestlers that have died prior to their 60th birthday in the last few years.
Let me stop there and promise that this blog is not about pro wrestling. Even if you don’t like wrestling, you may still enjoy the blog, so don’t stop reading just because you still have a grudge against Vince McMahon for the XFL.
The thing that really sticks out about the deaths of these wrestlers is that, for the most part, none of them were main eventers. (For those of you who are not familiar with the world of pro wrestling, a main eventer is a wrestler like Hulk Hogan or The Rock. Big names who bring a lot of people to live shows, and therefore make the company a lot of money.)
I know wrestling isn’t real, so these men don’t become main eventers by winning matches, but they are given that job by management. They’re given the job because if you are the champion, you are the main event, you are the reason people are coming to the shows. The management wouldn’t dare put the title on a person who couldn’t bring in a crowd.
It does not surprise me that people like Hulk Hogan, “The Macho Man” Randy Savage, Ric Flair, The Ultimate Warrior, “Rowdy” Roddy Piper, and “Stone Cold” Steve Austin are alive and well. Why wouldn’t Vince McMahon keep a close eye on these men to make sure they are not doing anything to harm themselves? The longer they live and continue making appearances for his WWE, the more money he makes.
What about the men and women who worked for the WWE or their main rival in the 1990’s WCW, that have died prior to 60 years old since the year 2000? According to my count there are 29 men and women who fall in that category. Only 3 of them ever held the WWE or WCW world championships.
First was the 600 pound, 2 time WWE champion, Yokozuna, who died of a massive heart attack in 2000. I can not say that a 600 pound man dying of a heart attack is a huge surprise, so we are going to say that this death was not at all related to wrestling.
Our second world champion was Chris Benoit. We all know his story. He went crazy and killed his wife (A professional wrestler known as “Woman”) and his son. He was set to win WWE’s ECW world championship the night he was found dead. The reason he was not at the show that evening was because Chairman McMahon granted Chris time at home to deal with his “personal issues”. Why would Vince do that? Was it because at the time of his death Chris Benoit was a hugely popular attraction and big money draw? Maybe.
Our third, and final former champion is Eddie Guerrero. Eddie died in 2005 of a heart attack caused by several years of drug abuse. Eddie was sober and clean at the time of his death, and had been for a couple of years. Why was Eddie clean and sober? Because Chairman McMahon paid for Eddie to go to rehab and straighten himself out. Eddie, who was hugely popular with the WWE’s sizeable Hispanic fan base, won the WWE championship soon after his stint in rehab. Coincidence? Probably not.
So, in the 29 wrestlers that have died since 2000 prior to the age of 60, only 3 were former champions, and 2 of them had had Vince McMahon attempt to save their lives. As for the other 26? Names that all of us grew up with, people like Curt “Mr. Perfect” Hennig, The Big Bossman, Miss Elizabeth, Hercules Hernandez, Chris “Skip” Candido, “The British Bulldog” Davy Boy Smith, “Sensational” Sherri Martel, Brian “Crush” Adams, Scott “Bam Bam” Bigelow and “Road Warrior Hawk”, were they just not bringing in enough money for Vince? Were they not selling enough t-shirts?
After the Chris Benoit tragedy, Vince offered help to any former employee of World Wrestling Entertainment if they wanted it. It was a see through attempt at taking the responsibility off of a man who narrowly escaped jail time in the early 90’s for providing steroids to his employees. Because one of his champions went nuts and killed his family, Vince offered help. Not because 24 of the 29 people on this list had died in the 6 years prior, but because McMahon was getting bad press.
If McMahon wants to say that wrestling is “sports entertainment” and not an actual sport so that he can escape things like drug testing and boxing and wrestling commissions, then so be it. It is his company, and he can do with it as he pleases, but he had better start thinking about the fact that due to his attitude, and blind eyes, he has allowed and, in my opinion, contributed to the deaths of too many young people for too long of a time.
It has been a problem for a while, but it has gotten much worse recently. In the 90’s, 12 men died prior to their 60’s, and amazingly, none of them were former champions. (For those of you who were wondering, in 1998 WWE’s “Monday Night Raw” and WCW’s “Monday Nitro” would draw a combined 15 million viewers each Monday night…there was too much on the line to let champions die then.)
In the 80’s, when steroids were rampant in the wrestling industry, and shows like “Wrestlemania III” could sell 97,000 tickets, 4 former WWE superstars died before they were 60, and none of them were even close to winning a title.
So what does all of this mean? It’s plain and simple: When Vince needs money, he makes damn sure the people bringing it in are healthy. When Vince stops making money, he could care less what happens to anyone. If he truly is the “god” of professional wrestling, maybe he should start caring a little more about his people. He’s not going to have any left at this rate.
With the death of former pro wrestler Andrew “Test” Martin on Friday, it got me thinking about all of the wrestlers that have died prior to their 60th birthday in the last few years.
Let me stop there and promise that this blog is not about pro wrestling. Even if you don’t like wrestling, you may still enjoy the blog, so don’t stop reading just because you still have a grudge against Vince McMahon for the XFL.
The thing that really sticks out about the deaths of these wrestlers is that, for the most part, none of them were main eventers. (For those of you who are not familiar with the world of pro wrestling, a main eventer is a wrestler like Hulk Hogan or The Rock. Big names who bring a lot of people to live shows, and therefore make the company a lot of money.)
I know wrestling isn’t real, so these men don’t become main eventers by winning matches, but they are given that job by management. They’re given the job because if you are the champion, you are the main event, you are the reason people are coming to the shows. The management wouldn’t dare put the title on a person who couldn’t bring in a crowd.
It does not surprise me that people like Hulk Hogan, “The Macho Man” Randy Savage, Ric Flair, The Ultimate Warrior, “Rowdy” Roddy Piper, and “Stone Cold” Steve Austin are alive and well. Why wouldn’t Vince McMahon keep a close eye on these men to make sure they are not doing anything to harm themselves? The longer they live and continue making appearances for his WWE, the more money he makes.
What about the men and women who worked for the WWE or their main rival in the 1990’s WCW, that have died prior to 60 years old since the year 2000? According to my count there are 29 men and women who fall in that category. Only 3 of them ever held the WWE or WCW world championships.
First was the 600 pound, 2 time WWE champion, Yokozuna, who died of a massive heart attack in 2000. I can not say that a 600 pound man dying of a heart attack is a huge surprise, so we are going to say that this death was not at all related to wrestling.
Our second world champion was Chris Benoit. We all know his story. He went crazy and killed his wife (A professional wrestler known as “Woman”) and his son. He was set to win WWE’s ECW world championship the night he was found dead. The reason he was not at the show that evening was because Chairman McMahon granted Chris time at home to deal with his “personal issues”. Why would Vince do that? Was it because at the time of his death Chris Benoit was a hugely popular attraction and big money draw? Maybe.
Our third, and final former champion is Eddie Guerrero. Eddie died in 2005 of a heart attack caused by several years of drug abuse. Eddie was sober and clean at the time of his death, and had been for a couple of years. Why was Eddie clean and sober? Because Chairman McMahon paid for Eddie to go to rehab and straighten himself out. Eddie, who was hugely popular with the WWE’s sizeable Hispanic fan base, won the WWE championship soon after his stint in rehab. Coincidence? Probably not.
So, in the 29 wrestlers that have died since 2000 prior to the age of 60, only 3 were former champions, and 2 of them had had Vince McMahon attempt to save their lives. As for the other 26? Names that all of us grew up with, people like Curt “Mr. Perfect” Hennig, The Big Bossman, Miss Elizabeth, Hercules Hernandez, Chris “Skip” Candido, “The British Bulldog” Davy Boy Smith, “Sensational” Sherri Martel, Brian “Crush” Adams, Scott “Bam Bam” Bigelow and “Road Warrior Hawk”, were they just not bringing in enough money for Vince? Were they not selling enough t-shirts?
After the Chris Benoit tragedy, Vince offered help to any former employee of World Wrestling Entertainment if they wanted it. It was a see through attempt at taking the responsibility off of a man who narrowly escaped jail time in the early 90’s for providing steroids to his employees. Because one of his champions went nuts and killed his family, Vince offered help. Not because 24 of the 29 people on this list had died in the 6 years prior, but because McMahon was getting bad press.
If McMahon wants to say that wrestling is “sports entertainment” and not an actual sport so that he can escape things like drug testing and boxing and wrestling commissions, then so be it. It is his company, and he can do with it as he pleases, but he had better start thinking about the fact that due to his attitude, and blind eyes, he has allowed and, in my opinion, contributed to the deaths of too many young people for too long of a time.
It has been a problem for a while, but it has gotten much worse recently. In the 90’s, 12 men died prior to their 60’s, and amazingly, none of them were former champions. (For those of you who were wondering, in 1998 WWE’s “Monday Night Raw” and WCW’s “Monday Nitro” would draw a combined 15 million viewers each Monday night…there was too much on the line to let champions die then.)
In the 80’s, when steroids were rampant in the wrestling industry, and shows like “Wrestlemania III” could sell 97,000 tickets, 4 former WWE superstars died before they were 60, and none of them were even close to winning a title.
So what does all of this mean? It’s plain and simple: When Vince needs money, he makes damn sure the people bringing it in are healthy. When Vince stops making money, he could care less what happens to anyone. If he truly is the “god” of professional wrestling, maybe he should start caring a little more about his people. He’s not going to have any left at this rate.
Slight Schedule Update
Hello,
There has been a slight scheduling change on account of me being a moron. I can't find the brackets I created for the tournament, so round one will take place tomorrow and Wednesday and round two will take place Thursday and Friday.
Thanks for your understanding in this mishap.
Also, go to www.milwaukeebucks.com to vote for Nick Matkovich.
There has been a slight scheduling change on account of me being a moron. I can't find the brackets I created for the tournament, so round one will take place tomorrow and Wednesday and round two will take place Thursday and Friday.
Thanks for your understanding in this mishap.
Also, go to www.milwaukeebucks.com to vote for Nick Matkovich.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Friday Night Lights
Under the Table and Dreaming
By nature, Minnesotans are a guilty bunch. Our Scandinavian heritage and Lutheran religion require us to go through life shouldering a bigger burden than most men and women. Typically, this humble background prevents us from doing anything to gain an edge over our opponents, in sports and in life. Native Minnesotans are often hesitant to drive more than 55 miles per hour, call mulligans on the back nine, or take all but the slightest lead off of first base. Don't mistake this for weakness, though -- our guilty consciences may dominate our psyches, but most of the time, they prevent us from making embarrassing errors that cause irreparable damage to our lives, our families, and our basketball franchises.
Overriding the angel on your shoulder in the Upper Midwest is an idea on par with going binge drinking after a marinara-heavy meal. Our Scarlet Letter society is lightning-quick (and usually correct) with accusations of impropriety, and the consequences are usually brutal. This is basic knowledge in our homogeneous little state. Every Minnesotan has the burden of guilt placed upon them prior to preschool. Like it or not, it is a guiding principle impossible to shake regardless of creed, geographic location, or situation.
Glen Taylor and Kevin McHale both had this burden. The former was the son of a southwestern Minnesota farmer who made a fortune in the printing business before purchasing the Timberwolves. The latter grew up in the Iron Range town of Hibbing and proceeded to greatness at the University of Minnesota and later, with the Boston Celtics. After Taylor purchased the team, he actualized his man-crush on McHale by hiring him as assistant GM in 1994 and promoting him to VP of basketball operations one year later.
Like most NBA owner/general manager duos, this combination made some prescient moves while improving this recent addition to the league. Drafting Kevin Garnett out of Farragut Christian Academy in 1995 was brilliant, as was hiring coach Flip Saunders. Trading for Stephon Marbury in 1996 worked in the short term, but in the long run, original pick Ray Allen would have been a far better fit. Regardless, the team began to evolve into a perennial playoff squad, albeit one that couldn't make it out of the first round. Garnett needed help inside. McHale and Taylor began searching for a complementary player.
As the story goes (thanks, Wikipedia):
Presumably, other NBA teams were executing under-the-table deals with players far before Taylor and McHale brought their checkbook to the underachieving former No. 1 pick. But what made Glen and Kevin think they could escape generations of guilt, inquiry, and Minnesota scorn in making this move? And if they were convinced that cheating in this manner was the best option, why wouldn't they try this dangerous, risky move with someone a little more talented than Joe Smith?
The story would end here if the move wasn't basketball Kryptonite for Taylor and McHale. People forget that prior to the Smith scandal, the Timberwolves made great strides with new leadership, progressing from a struggling expansion team to a club en route to greatness.
Following the scandal, though, the pipeline of talent for the team dried up. Stern stripped the Wolves of first-round picks in 2000, 2001, and 2002. Taylor and McHale did the honors themselves in 2003, when they celebrated the ability to draft top-flight players again by picking high school tweener and rapid Association washout Ndudi Ebi over players like Josh Howard, Jason Kapono, and Leandro Barbosa.
Shortly thereafter, the lack of incoming talent clashed with the team's strategy of signing aging former stars like Latrell Sprewell and Sam Cassell. This plan brought the team to the Western Conference Finals in 2004, where they were unable to defeat the dynastic Lakers. Following this season, the team began to implode. Cassell and Sprewell began to complain, Saunders was fired, Garnett was traded, McCants was drafted, McHale became head coach. The team's death spiral continues to twist into the ground of obscurity.
But four consecutive years of zero production from the first round is what truly spelled disaster for the franchise. And this can be directly attributed to Taylor and McHale's ignorance of Minnesota justice. Though you can't fire an owner, you are able to remove a coach and former GM from office. Kevin McHale deserved this fate long ago.
By nature, Minnesotans are a guilty bunch. Our Scandinavian heritage and Lutheran religion require us to go through life shouldering a bigger burden than most men and women. Typically, this humble background prevents us from doing anything to gain an edge over our opponents, in sports and in life. Native Minnesotans are often hesitant to drive more than 55 miles per hour, call mulligans on the back nine, or take all but the slightest lead off of first base. Don't mistake this for weakness, though -- our guilty consciences may dominate our psyches, but most of the time, they prevent us from making embarrassing errors that cause irreparable damage to our lives, our families, and our basketball franchises.
Overriding the angel on your shoulder in the Upper Midwest is an idea on par with going binge drinking after a marinara-heavy meal. Our Scarlet Letter society is lightning-quick (and usually correct) with accusations of impropriety, and the consequences are usually brutal. This is basic knowledge in our homogeneous little state. Every Minnesotan has the burden of guilt placed upon them prior to preschool. Like it or not, it is a guiding principle impossible to shake regardless of creed, geographic location, or situation.
Glen Taylor and Kevin McHale both had this burden. The former was the son of a southwestern Minnesota farmer who made a fortune in the printing business before purchasing the Timberwolves. The latter grew up in the Iron Range town of Hibbing and proceeded to greatness at the University of Minnesota and later, with the Boston Celtics. After Taylor purchased the team, he actualized his man-crush on McHale by hiring him as assistant GM in 1994 and promoting him to VP of basketball operations one year later.
Like most NBA owner/general manager duos, this combination made some prescient moves while improving this recent addition to the league. Drafting Kevin Garnett out of Farragut Christian Academy in 1995 was brilliant, as was hiring coach Flip Saunders. Trading for Stephon Marbury in 1996 worked in the short term, but in the long run, original pick Ray Allen would have been a far better fit. Regardless, the team began to evolve into a perennial playoff squad, albeit one that couldn't make it out of the first round. Garnett needed help inside. McHale and Taylor began searching for a complementary player.
As the story goes (thanks, Wikipedia):
Before the 1998-1999 season, Smith agreed in secret to sign three one-year contracts with the Timberwolves for less than his market value. In return, Smith received a promise that the Timberwolves would give him a multi-year, multi-million dollar contract before the 2001-2002 season.
In 2000, after word of the secret agreement got out, NBA commissioner David Stern voided Smith's final one-year contract with the Timberwolves, making Smith a free agent. Stern also took away three of the Timberwolves' next five first-round draft picks and fined the team $3.5 million.
Presumably, other NBA teams were executing under-the-table deals with players far before Taylor and McHale brought their checkbook to the underachieving former No. 1 pick. But what made Glen and Kevin think they could escape generations of guilt, inquiry, and Minnesota scorn in making this move? And if they were convinced that cheating in this manner was the best option, why wouldn't they try this dangerous, risky move with someone a little more talented than Joe Smith?
The story would end here if the move wasn't basketball Kryptonite for Taylor and McHale. People forget that prior to the Smith scandal, the Timberwolves made great strides with new leadership, progressing from a struggling expansion team to a club en route to greatness.
Following the scandal, though, the pipeline of talent for the team dried up. Stern stripped the Wolves of first-round picks in 2000, 2001, and 2002. Taylor and McHale did the honors themselves in 2003, when they celebrated the ability to draft top-flight players again by picking high school tweener and rapid Association washout Ndudi Ebi over players like Josh Howard, Jason Kapono, and Leandro Barbosa.
Shortly thereafter, the lack of incoming talent clashed with the team's strategy of signing aging former stars like Latrell Sprewell and Sam Cassell. This plan brought the team to the Western Conference Finals in 2004, where they were unable to defeat the dynastic Lakers. Following this season, the team began to implode. Cassell and Sprewell began to complain, Saunders was fired, Garnett was traded, McCants was drafted, McHale became head coach. The team's death spiral continues to twist into the ground of obscurity.
But four consecutive years of zero production from the first round is what truly spelled disaster for the franchise. And this can be directly attributed to Taylor and McHale's ignorance of Minnesota justice. Though you can't fire an owner, you are able to remove a coach and former GM from office. Kevin McHale deserved this fate long ago.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Get The Vote Out
Hello friends,
I hope today finds you well. I have been selected as a finalist for the Milwaukee Bucks’ blogger contest. I am blogging about the game between the Bucks and Celtics on Sunday at noon. I am asking for a kind favor though, please vote for my blog after the game on Sunday at www.milwaukeebucks.com. Tell friends, foes, family, and everyone you know to vote. I greatly appreciate your help in this. The winner will blog at home games throughout the remainder of the season. Also, if all goes right this is a preventative measure to keep me from eventually living in your basement one day.
Thanks very much for your understanding and please vote.
The best of everything,
Nick
I hope today finds you well. I have been selected as a finalist for the Milwaukee Bucks’ blogger contest. I am blogging about the game between the Bucks and Celtics on Sunday at noon. I am asking for a kind favor though, please vote for my blog after the game on Sunday at www.milwaukeebucks.com. Tell friends, foes, family, and everyone you know to vote. I greatly appreciate your help in this. The winner will blog at home games throughout the remainder of the season. Also, if all goes right this is a preventative measure to keep me from eventually living in your basement one day.
Thanks very much for your understanding and please vote.
The best of everything,
Nick
Grab A Drink, Grab A Glass
March intertwines two favorite things for all red-blooded Americans: The NCAA Tournament and St. Patrick’s Day (read as a time to have too much). Here at CTT, the uniting body of all creeds, Credes, religions, nationalities and political parties, we have come to you for help in uniting sports and alcohol. We need your help!
Starting this Monday we will run “March Sippage” a 64-person tournament matching up various personalities in the sports world. Pick the one you would rather bend an elbow with. We will whittle the list down to find that one person in sports that we would most like to get saucy with.
So lift us out of the gutter, spatula our face off the bar and provide us with a pair of extra shorts. There is no play-in game. First round action begins Monday.
Monday:
CTB Region: all games held at an off-Broadway production of Ragtime
Brad Region: all games held at a Kriss-Kross album release party
Tuesday:
Bink Region: all games held in a very long, wide gutter
Sam Region: all games held in the cafeteria of the School of Hard Knocks
Starting this Monday we will run “March Sippage” a 64-person tournament matching up various personalities in the sports world. Pick the one you would rather bend an elbow with. We will whittle the list down to find that one person in sports that we would most like to get saucy with.
So lift us out of the gutter, spatula our face off the bar and provide us with a pair of extra shorts. There is no play-in game. First round action begins Monday.
Monday:
CTB Region: all games held at an off-Broadway production of Ragtime
Brad Region: all games held at a Kriss-Kross album release party
Tuesday:
Bink Region: all games held in a very long, wide gutter
Sam Region: all games held in the cafeteria of the School of Hard Knocks
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