El Hombre Knows Sports

The Gala Bowl Preview!

2011-12-16T08:43:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

El Hombre was going to send this installment via text message, the same way Mr. Integrity, former Pitt coach Todd Graham, informed his players he was bolting Steel City for the Arizona State job, but with the bowl season upon us, it’s gonna take way more than 160 characters to break down all the action. Graham spent less than a year directing the Panthers, the same amount of time he invested at Rice, where he was two stops before Pittsburgh. One would have to believe he’ll be renting in Tempe. While he’s at it, he should see if he can pick ups some character.

While the Panthers scramble to assemble a representative effort in the prestigious BBVA Compass Bowl in March (okay, Jan. 7), the rest of the post-season opens up Saturday and promises to be the most exciting and dramatic in college football history. That, of course, is a lie. With 35 “classics,” an avalanche of mind-numbing corporate sponsorships and some matchups that were concocted in chambers of commerce, instead of by people with a modicum of football sense, it’s easy to look at the three-plus weeks of action with a jaundiced eye. But embrace the majesty of the Beef ‘O’Brady’s Bowl. Enjoy the thrilling action of the Famous Idaho Potato Bowl. And try to figure out exactly what the hell the Belk Bowl is.

It all kicks off Saturday, with Temple and Wyoming squaring off in Albuquerque. (What, Roswell was busy?) And it doesn’t conclude until Brent Musburger makes an asinine reference to a sponsor in the BCS National Championship, or as it’s known in Stillwater, OK, Satan’s Playground. It would be great to break down all 35 spectacular contests, but there just aren’t enough superlatives in the world to describe the pageantry and tradition of the GoDaddy.com Bowl or the ramifications of the Kraft Fight Hunger Bowl. Instead, here’s a look at some of the most compelling storylines of the bowl season – and a pledge to watch at least some of every single one of them.

Replacement Parts: Nothing screams “BUY TICKETS NOW!!” like a matchup between two schools with a combined 12-13 record, a pair of interim coaches and a slow slide to mediocrity over the final weeks of the season. But that’s what the good folks in San Francisco get for sticking a bowl in a baseball stadium and hoping for the best. Illinois and UCLA skulk to the Fight Hunger Bowl New Year’s Eve with eyes squarely on the future, since looking at the past is too depressing. Gone are coaches Ron Zook and Rick Neuheisel, who began the season with high hopes and ended it with the locals chasing them out of town with pitchforks and torches. What better way to close out 2011 than with a bowl game featuring two programs in limbo? How about with residents of the Occupy Calcutta camp showing up at your house to use the bathroom?

Thanks For Nothing: As punishment for missing a chip-shot field goal against Texas Christian, Boise State went from a BCS bowl to the MAACO Bowl in Las Vegas. Instead of cranking up its prolific offense in front of a huge audience, the Broncos get to turn it on for a bunch of folks who got comped by some Glitter Gulch hotel and wonder why the concession stand doesn’t feature a $1.99 all-you-can-eat buffet. After this treatment, is it any wonder Boise State has decided to join the Big East? Of course, given the state of that conference, BSU could find itself playing the Mid-American Conference runner-up in the Caligula Bowl in five years. Blue turf can only take you so far, fellas. After that, you have to face facts: You’re from Idaho, for crying out loud! That doesn’t exactly engender TV network love. So, enjoy Vegas, fellas. Oh, and don’t split a pair of 10s.

Wipeout: The Big Ten will have to go a long way to match last year’s 0-for-5 performance on New Year’s Day that included losses to three SEC schools by a combined score of 138-45. But the potential for danger is there again, as the conference faces another trio of bullies from the south, not to mention a favored team from Conference USA. No wonder the Big Ten Network has so many subscribers. Thanks to commissioner Jim Delany’s ability to win friends and influence people, the Big Ten has a whopping 10 bowl invitations this year, a testament to Delany’s P.R. skill and conference members’ ability to beat up on MAC (10 of ‘em), I-AA (another 10) and Sun Belt (five) teams in the non-league portion of the program. That’s why an Illinois team that lost its last six games gets a bowl invitation, and a Purdue squad that gave up 62 points to Wisconsin and lost to Rice will be playing bowl football. Hats off to Delany. He had just better hope his teams’ heads don’t come off, too.

History Lesson: When the Tournament of Roses wanted to increase attendance back in 1901, it decided to stage a football game between teams from the east and west. Michigan came to Pasadena on New Year’s Day, 1902, and smacked Stanford around so hard, the Palo Alto crowd tapped out after three quarters. (Too bad the undefeated Wolverines didn’t have Hurry Up Yost coaching them when they tanked against Stanford 70 years later.) Since that time, bowl games of every size and level of importance have sprung up across the country with one aim in mind: increase tourism in the cities where the games are staged. That’s it. Period. The goal was never to pick the best teams. It was to pick the schools whose fans would travel in the largest numbers and spend the most money. That’s why BYU is such an unattractive candidate. The LDS crowd finds other church members in the community and stays with them. They don’t eat out. And they sure as heck don’t drink. Junk food and candy sales, however, soar when the Cougs come to town. So, all the fuss over the Sugar Bowl’s choosing Michigan and Virginia Tech over Kansas State and Boise is ridiculous. U-M and VT pledged to buy more tickets and probably promised a better hotel presence, too. That’s how it works, even though the Hokie faithful aren’t exactly, ahem, gobbling up the school’s ducat allotment. Coaches who don’t like it would be well served to camp out in their school presidents’ offices and demand they lobby for a playoff. Otherwise, enjoy the Cotton Bowl.

Best of the Best, Part I: Because enough Harris Poll voters awoke from their mid-afternoon naps and decided Alabama was more worthy of a spot in the “national title” game than Oklahoma State, the Cowboys will square off in the Fiesta Bowl Stanford in the best game of the season. Nobody can say for sure whether the Cowpokes and sugar daddy Boone Pickens would have beaten the Crimson Tide in a head-to-head, but wouldn’t it have been fun to find out in a way other than through an election staged by coaches (huge conflict of interest) and peripheral college football types (dinner at 4 p.m.!) and the cast of The Big Bang Theory. Heisman runner-up Andrew Luck tries to keep up with the OSU offense, which is capable of scoring 50 points in one possession. Enjoy the action and try to avert your eyes from the garish Oklahoma State uniforms.

Best of the Best, Part II: When the New England Patriots entered Super Bowl XLII with an 18-0 record, everyone figured the game would be a coronation. How could the New York Giants possibly hang with the Greatest Offense Ever? The Pats were 12-point favorites and invincible. Oops. The Giants hit Tom Brady like he was a piñata and whipped the Pats, spoiling their undefeated season. Well, it sure looks like Alabama and LSU are the two best teams in the land, but what appears to be true isn’t always right. Wouldn’t it have been nice to see the Tide play Oklahoma State, and LSU face off with Stanford, Oregon or Anybody? Then, we could have the top two teams play. Of course, an eight-team playoff would be better. A 12-teamer would be ideal. We don’t have that, because of greed, corruption, liars and espn. So, we’ll watch what everyone hopes will be a game with more than 15 points scored and try not to excuse bad offense as solely the product of great defense. It’s the national championship! Or at least what passes for it in college sports’ USSR.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Tebow! Tebow! Tebow! Tebow! El Hombre doesn’t give a rat’s posterior whether Denver comeback specialist Tim Tebow is a future Hall of Famer, a championship passer or even in the league in three seasons. He just enjoys the ride. In the homogenized NFL, it’s great to see someone creating excitement and drama off script. Forget about the future and live in the moment. Of course, remember this come Sunday: Pats 34, Broncs 13…The scoreboard on Chicago Bears WR Sam Hurd, who was arrested Thursday for distributing drugs: 5-10 kilos of yayo, and 1,000 pounds (that’s right, kids, a half-ton) of weed – A WEEK!! Seems he was dishing some off to the rest of the NFL, too, not that you’ll hear espn talk about that. Can’t upset those corporate partners now. Guess that new labor agreement has necessitated Hurd’s finding a second job. Times are tough all over…A 10-year contract for Albert Pujols sounds pretty good for three or four seasons, but the guy turns 32 in January and has seen his batting average drop each of the past four seasons and his homers and RBI fall in the last three. Unless he’s going on the BALCO Bonds plan, don’t expect the Angels to be very happy about shelling out $25 mil when The Machine is 39 and in need of a new engine and a Metamucil drip…Great job by everybody involved in the Cincinnati-Xavier basketball embarrassment. The coaches refused to address the pre-game garbage spewed by the players. The refs couldn’t step up and stop the talking when it started. And the players didn’t know how to behave when tensions flared. Yancy Gates’ six-game suspension is a joke. He should miss 10-15 for throwing multiple punches. And X’s Tu Holloway needs to sit for a while after yapping at opposing coaches. The coaches shouldn’t be making these decisions. The schools’ presidents should have stepped in to rescue their institutions’ reputations.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Even if the Eagles lose their final three games by a combined 120-0, and the fans and media scream for a month straight, Andy Reid isn’t going anywhere. His ties to owner Jeffrey “The Phantom” Lurie and Dynamite Joe Banner are way too tight. Further, the spin has already started. The Eagles went from Super Bowl contenders to “rebuilding.” Next year, however, is a different story. If Reid doesn’t fix his defense – and that means firing Juan Castillo and wide-nine maven Jim Washburn – and teach Michael Vick how to be a real NFL quarterback, instead of a video game hero, he should be sent packing the minute the 2012 season concludes. Frankly, he needs to be gone right now, but that isn’t happening. Trouble is, even if Reid goes, Howie Roseman stays, and given the Birds’ recent drafts, that’s hardly heart-warming. If Lurie and Banner had any football savvy, they would examine successful teams like the Packers, Steelers and Ravens and see the value of an established GM and a coach who works in concert with him, rather than bullying him, as Reid does Roseman. But all of that must wait. Reid is coming back for more, so save your voices. And lower your expectations.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: From the time David Stern took over as NBA commissioner in 1984, he has had a steady hand on the tiller and something of a magic touch. Sure, his arrival coincided with the entrances of Michael Jordan, Hakeem Olajuwon and Charles Barkley over the next couple years, but it was Stern who focused the league’s marketing efforts on the players, rather than the teams. The result has been expansion, revenue growth and strong TV ratings. But Stern is losing it, and the Chris Paul mess proved it. It’s understandable that the “owner” of a team (the league is in control of the New Orleans franchise) should have veto power on trades, but rarely is that say-so played out so publicly, as it was in the case of the Lakers’ and Clippers’ pursuit of the New Orleans guard. The first deal Stern turned down wasn’t great, but it was good enough and involved players who would impact the Hornets, Rockets and Lakers. He then went thumbs down on a trade that would have sent Paul to the Clippers, before acquiescing and allowing the Hornets and L.A. to connect. El Hombre understands the need to preserve the franchise’s value, but Stern’s public hand-wringing gave the impression of someone who couldn’t control the other NBA owners and who seemed unable to conduct business privately. That’s not how a powerful commissioner works. It’s time to begin assembling the succession plan for the top of the NBA food chain.

-EH-

Those Were The Days

2011-10-28T07:57:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

“Yes, it used to be beautiful, what with
the rackets, whoring, guns…”
-- Lou Pascal, “Atlantic City”

If you are a fan of college football, you have a little bit of Lou Pascal in you these days. Pascal, a small-time gangster played by Burt Lancaster in the sublime period piece, “Atlantic City,” remembers the city – and his life – through romanticized lenses. To him, AC was great when the gambling was illegal and corporations didn’t do the thieving. It was somehow more noble back then.

So it is with the world’s greatest sport. As ruthless businessmen and TV executives bulldoze tradition and history, those of us who remember the Old Days do so wistfully. Like Lou, we realize that the world we recall was hardly perfect, but it was certainly better and had far more character than what we see today. It was somehow more desirable for back-room deals cut by men in sherbet-colored blazers to determine our favorite schools’ futures than to have computers do it. Rivalries were born of hate and anger, not advertising. And a couple bucks slipped to a star player by a booster was a fine reward for a full day’s work.

This week’s latest conference shakeup is merely the latest bit of evidence that college football’s greatness is evaporating. If West Virginia/Louisville bolts for the Big 12, after Missouri departs for the SEC, we may witness the creation of an unholy conglomeration of up to 32 unwashed C-USA, Big East and Mountain West souls huddled together in the hope their group hug will confer BCS legitimacy. Those Leftovers had little cachet before they coagulated into a great pile of who-gives-a-damn, and they’ll remain largely undesirable after it – no matter how rich their espn contract may be.

Every time someone decries the behavior of these greedheads, he is dismissed as too old by people for whom history is what was presented on last week’s episode of Tosh.0. (Go ahead and invade Russia, folks. It just might work!) Well, here’s a news flash, kiddies: In 10-15 years college football won’t be much different than its NFL big brother, from the cynical in-game “experience” to the cheerleading media coverage designed to promote the product. Wait a second; we already have that.

Spend three hours in a big-time college football stadium, and you’ll witness a slickly-produced show that incorporates elements of the sport’s past – marching bands; cheerleaders who don’t look like, ahem, dancers and real student sections – along with plenty of professional trappings. The promotional/sponsorship presentation is growing at a scary rate. A lot of the band music has been replaced by standard-issue “motivational rock,” which attempts to create enthusiasm and remind fans that certain parts of the game are more important than others. The giant video boards attract thousands of eyes away from the field, so many spend three hours watching TV, instead of the game itself.

With each new season and hiring of yet another AD that has no experience at all in sports, the atmosphere gets closer to that of the NFL. Factor in the decaying traditions and an end to several historic rivalries – so long Texas-Texas A&M, Pitt-West Virginia and Kansas-Mizzou – and you have a more sanitized, though certainly profitable, college football product.

One problem: as the sport lurches closer to the NFL version, it loses its soul. That may be fine to the generation of kids for whom the word “classic” refers to last year’s Alabama-Auburn game, but it does nothing for those of us who remember when Autumn Saturdays featured gridiron encounters that were almost romantic. The upshot of the new conference alignments will be made-for-TV affiliations that represent nothing but the opportunity to maximize profits, or at least stay out of the deep red.

When Arkansas left the Southwest Conference, back in 1992, the Razorbacks were viewed as the worst of traitors for having upgraded their lot by joining the SEC. Decades of tradition were ruined, as the SWC splintered, and the Big 12 emerged from the pile. Today’s movement is happening so fast and furiously that it’s hard to put the black hat on any one school. So, we look at the real culprits: the TV networks. They sit behind the scenes and counsel conferences and institutions on which moves will make them most attractive to their checkbooks. The goal is a fat contract that guarantees the highest payout to league members. If that comes with the creation of a money-printing conference network, all the better.

The wheel has been set in motion, and it’s impossible to stop it. The next couple years will feature a reshuffling of schools’ home addresses and eventually produce a conglomerate of powerful players that rakes in the big bucks and attracts the top talent. Those who fail to find a properly prosperous home will exist on the margins, collecting scraps. It’s not hard to imagine members of the Mid-American or Sun Belt Conferences staging sit-ins at the site of a future BCS title game under the “Occupy the 50-yard line” banner. Fans will eventually adjust to and accept the new order and forget the Old Days.

But as the product and its presentation get closer in style to that of the NFL, college football will slowly lose its identity. Years from now, it will be practically impossible to differentiate between Saturday and Sunday, as contrived new “traditions” are seen for what they really are: marketing ploys. And mascots will be no more than corporate symbols, like the Michelin Man or Captain Morgan. Maybe then, people will pine for the 1990s, just as many fans look back wistfully at the ’60s and ‘70s.

With apologies to Lou Pascal: yes, it used to be beautiful, what with the wishbone, the hundred-dollar handshakes and January 1.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Me-O held a Peter Brady workout earlier this week: Many were invited; no one (except for a couple TV cameras) came. Hard to believe there’s no market for 37-year olds coming off major knee surgeries with massive, locker-room-threatening egos. You would have thought the Packers or Patriots would have offered him a five-year deal…The NBA and its Players Association made some real progress toward a deal Thursday, and fans celebrated by turning on the hockey game. You do have to give the parties credit for understanding that if they had trashed another couple months of play, people would have found other things to do besides watching a game between the T-wolves and Raptors – like having a cavity filled without anesthesia…In other basketball news, Allen Iverson has told the world he’s healthy and ready to accept a reserve role on a team, so long as he can have Tuesdays and Thursdays off to go to the casino and the training table is at TGIFriday’s…Top-ranked women’s tennis player Caroline Wozniacki has complained that rival Victoria Azarenka’s grunting during matches is too loud and can be a competitive advantage. Azarenka, of course, disputed that claim and said the issue was not one of trying to gain an upper hand but due to a lack of sufficient levels of fiber in her diet.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Eagles fans will no doubt be in full froth Sunday night when the Cowgirls come to town, and there may even be some snow in the stadium to fire at the Dallas players, coaches and owner False Face Jones. But no matter how loud the fans are or how much trash is talked between the players and Dallas defensive coordinator Rob Ryan, the fact remains that the Birds must prove they are legitimate playoff threats or consign themselves to two more months of criticism. The good news is that Andy Reid is 12-0 after bye weeks during his tenure in Philadelphia. The bad news is that the win over Washington two weeks in a row did not contain enough deodorant to remove the stench of the previous four straight futile weeks. The Eagles must prove they can play turnover-free football, hold tight to a lead against a good team and play some respectable defense. Philadelphia is now reasonably healthy and at close to full strength. Beat the Cowgirls, and 2011 prosperity remains a possibility. Lose, and the cries for Reid’s head will increase, and for the first time in his tenure, be legitimate.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: UConn women’s basketball coach Geno Auriemma can be a lot of things, including arrogant and hard to stomach. But he was completely correct earlier this week when he said Notre Dame’s sweetheart deal with the Big East hurt the conference badly. But don’t forget to blame the folks in Providence, who allowed ND to play football as an independent while housing the Irish’s “Olympic” sports in a safe harbor. The Big East should have gone to Notre Dame’s administration years ago and said, “Either join for everything or take a walk.” That may have pushed ND into the waiting arms of the Big Ten, but at least the Big East could have retained its dignity. As ND continues to play hoops, soccer and lacrosse in the conference, the Big East’s football profile takes a monthly hit, forcing the league to chase schools like Houston, Memphis and UCF. Golden Domers, who can hardly be considered the most reasonable people, must admit they have it pretty good. The Big East, on the other hand, looks foolish as one of its “members” benefits from scheduling security while getting a little something on the side. Hats off to Geno for pointing that out.

-EH-

The End of the Innocence

2011-09-16T06:12:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Before Michigan took advantage of yet another Mama Cass job by Notre Dame last Saturday night, 114,804 partisans (save a couple thousand poor bastards from South Bend) roared as the school honored 1991 Heisman Trophy winner Desmond Howard. U-M declared him a “Michigan Legend” and decreed that the number 21 jersey would forever feature a patch signifying Howard’s new designation. It was a touching moment, and Howard’s tears appeared real as he reflected upon his time in Ann Arbor. For a few moments, Wolverine fans were transported back to a time before luxury suites, gigantic video boards, ear-splitting music pumping through stadium speakers and Tressel’s Tattoo and Pawn T-shirts.

Now, El Hombre is not so naïve to think that college football 20 years ago was a clean sport, filled with players who majored in Metallurgy Studies and for whom the laboratory was as important as the gridiron. Nor is he such a rube to believe the unsavory people circling programs back then were merely colorful, Runyon-esque characters who were largely harmless and didn’t sully the game’s credibility. (Hello, Uncle Luke.) One need only read John Sayle Watterson’s exhaustive history of the game, “College Football: History, Spectacle, Controversy” to understand that there has not been one moment since the game’s inception in 1869 (or, for you Harvard fans, 1874) that was without stain.

But as Michigan attempted to reach back into its vivid history by honoring Howard before its first-ever night game, there was a palpable sense that the magic and wonder of the sport’s first 135 or so years was forever leaving us – even if much of that charm was perpetuated by a myth-making media that refused to tell us that George Gipp never went to class. A cynic might note that the tribute to Howard came primarily because he is part of espn’s self-aggrandizing pre-game synergy-fest, and that caravan just happened to roll into town for a day of broadcasts. As the school staged a sporting spectacle that was admittedly dazzling, it was hard not to see it merely as a slick expansion of the Michigan brand.

The events of the past several months – and certainly of those to come – have forever torn away any illusion that this is a full-fledged business enterprise, no different than what goes on at General Motors, without the bailout, of course. In fact, it’s even money NCAA schools will outsource their operations to India within the next 25 years, provided that exchange student from Bangalore can run a 4.25 40.

This is not a new refrain; the marvel of college sports has been dissipating rapidly over several years. But with each new conference realignment rumor, each new report of a scandal and each criminal attempt by the NC2A to consolidate its power at the expense of powerless athletes bring us ever closer to a complete surrender of any of the ideals on which the concept of college sports was built.

El Hombre isn’t just talking about Miami and the revelations that the owner of a sports agent concern was playing Bacchus to Hurricane players. It’s not just about Texas A&M, which in an effort to escape the shadow of its big brother is in effect signaling the end of the Big 12 and the history (Big 8, SWC) that came before it. It’s not just about how disingenuous TV networks are promising billions to leagues for broadcast rights and turning college football and basketball into programming that has the same feel as a Wednesday night sitcom.

It’s all of the above. And more.

There’s an article in the recent Atlantic Monthly that examines what it calls the “shame” of college athletics. It’s absolutely recommended reading, even if the sucker runs about 7,000 words and requires some serious endurance to complete. In it, Taylor Branch reveals the decades-long effort by the NC2A to build strength at the expense of the young men and women it’s supposed to represent. For instance, the term “student-athlete” was not coined to describe the hard-working men and women chasing the Homeric ideal of a sound mind and sound body. Instead, it was created to differentiate said folks from university employees, the better to prevent them from suing for workman’s comp benefits in the event of an injury. How’s that for a diabolical plan?

Branch carefully lays out the NC2A’s successful attempts to exploit the images and likenesses of its athletes for gigantic profit. He details the attempts by crippled former players to get compensation for their suffering and how the NC2A continues to avoid any significant payout. And finally, he describes the coming days, when the larger, more successful schools will break away from the organization to govern themselves and reap even more significant financial windfalls.

That last part is what should truly trouble college athletics fans. Within even a year, we may see a completely different big-time landscape, one that cares little for historical rivalries and tradition. Everything will revolve entirely around money, and once that becomes the aim, nothing else is the same. Again, not too much of this is new, but it appears we’re heading for the final reckoning, and that’s too bad.

Last Saturday night in Ann Arbor was a fine convergence of old and new. The band classics meshed well with “Welcome to the Jungle,” and pumped-up Michigan Stadium, with its big screens and luxury seating, looked great under the lights. But as the mingling took place, it was clear what was on the horizon, just as the events of the past several months have given us clues of the world that awaits. Those of us who remember the days when college sports had an element of romance – even “hundred-dollar handshakes” seemed quaint when compared to Nevin Shapiro’s Love Boat junkets – can be sustained by the memories. The next generation, however, will have none of that at its disposal, only a manufactured excitement created and funded by TV networks that creates the illusion of pageantry.

Oh, and the athletes will still be getting screwed over. At least that much won’t change.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: So, we’re supposed to consider the recent efforts by player agents to decertify the NBA Players Association as a positive step toward ending the labor strife that threatens to scrub the 2011-12 season? What’s next, letting players’ posse members sit in on the negotiations? NBA commissioner Uncle David Stern is ready to go to the mattresses on this one, even if that deprives us of Timberwolves games. Inviting the agents in can’t do anything but weaken the players’ position…All those years Sarah Palin was yelling “Go Blue!” in Alaska, we thought she was talking about the cold weather. Turns out she was a Michigan fan all along and that given her choice of side dishes, she’ll always choose Rice over potatoes…How about the way those Colts rallied together after learning Peyton Manning wouldn’t be playing much, if at all, this season? The last time a team showed that much fortitude, the Mets were gagging away the 2007 NL East pennant. Or was that the 2008 crown?...Nice “apology” by Serena Williams after her most recent petulant on-court outburst. Nicer “fine” by the USTA. Wow, a whole $2,000. Next time, she won’t be allowed to watch TV for a week.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Eagles are just 17 wins away from deserving the ludicrous “Dream Team” moniker awarded them by backup QB Vince Young, he of the career 42 touchdown passes and 42 interceptions. Last Sunday’s season-opening win over the Rams was impressive because of the Birds’ big-play potential, but the continued inability of the team’s $100 million quarterback to recognize blitzes and run the offense with precision is disheartening. Vick is indeed a marvel in broken-field situations, but he demonstrates limited skill in sniffing out complicated defensive schemes and getting rid of the ball quickly. He was hit 21 times last week, and even right tackle Todd Herremans said Vick needed to get better at understanding when blitzes were coming. The most damning evidence of Vick’s limitations came when he said earlier this week that the final part of his QB development was learning how to identify that part of the defensive approach. Final part? That’s something he should have been working on all along, and the admission that he can’t handle it demonstrates why Eagles fans should be wary about Vick’s ability to lead them to the Super Bowl. He still sees himself as a QB who “wants to make plays,” which is code for not wanting to fit into a specific scheme. The Eagles preyed on the Rams last week, but until Vick can catch up on a part of his job that he should have tried to master since college, they’re not real Super Bowl contenders.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: For some college seniors, the acceptance letter they receive from a college of choice is a starter’s pistol signaling the beginning of a slump. They figure that since they have achieved the ultimate goal of high school – college admission – they can coast home. After taking six of seven from the Braves and Brewers last week, the Phillies appear to have adopted a similar attitude. In the process, they have highlighted some of the possible obstacles to a world title. First off, their offense has gone to sleep. The Phils have scored 11 runs in their last six games. Granted, their lineups have looked at times like the belong playing in the Governor’s Cup series for the Iron Pigs, but the slump shows just how this team can struggle for prolonged periods – like, say, last year’s NLCS against San Francisco. Meanwhile, the bullpen, already short thanks to the presence of unreliables like David Herndon, Michael Schwimmer and Brad Lidge, has gone from a strength to a question mark. After walking a total of six batters in July and August combined, Antonio Bastardo has issued five free passes in six appearances in September, and has gotten a total of four men out in his past four appearances. He needs rest, and two weeks may not be enough. The Phils are cruising toward 105 wins or so, but that means nothing if the bats and bullpen don’t deliver in October.

-EH-

Honor the Memory of John Mackey

2011-07-08T11:35:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

El Hombre doesn’t know what is so sacrosanct about the Hall of Fame Game, but it has enough weight to force Roger Goodell, DeMaurice Smith and a group of really rich guys stay in a conference room for 12 hours discussing their labor differences. After more than 100 days of hand-wringing, legal challenges and endless Sal-Pal reports, a completely meaningless football game has spurred the two sides in the NFL labor dispute to negotiate like grown-ups and end the silly stalemate.

It’s hard to believe the real engine in the drive to bring football to the starving masses has been an exhibition game noted more for the relative anonymity of those competing in it – after the first series or two – and the inane interviews conducted with HOF inductees while the game is going on. (Who was it that decided yellow blazers were proper for the football Hall of Fame?)

For some reason, the game Matters, so Smith, Goodell and their minions are at the bargaining table, trying to hammer out the details of a CBA that assures everybody a fair share of the gigantic revenues that will be rolling into the NFL vaults over the next several years. The league grossed $9 billion last season, and with TV right expected to double over the next few seasons (ESPN will pay $1.8-1.9 billion for Monday Night Football alone beginning next year) everybody is going to be fat and happy. Or, in the case of disgruntled Redskins defensive tackle Albert Haynesworth, just fat.

As the final touches are put on the agreement, let’s hope the two sides are mindful of the obligation they have to retired players. Thursday’s death of former Colts and Chargers tight end John Mackey amplifies the need to make sure those who have finished playing the game – and with whom the game is finished – have health benefits. Mackey was one of the pioneering players at his position, displaying a rare (at the time) blend of size and speed that made him more than just an adjunct offensive tackle. Mackey could block like a lineman and then split the seam for big gains in the passing game. He came along at a time when the position wasn’t counted on for big plays but showed its value through his performance.

His career earned him enshrinement in Canton, but it is his life off the field and after football that makes him pertinent to the negotiations occurring right now. A former NFL Players Union president, Mackey was a tireless advocate for those who brought the game to life. In his later years, Mackey suffered from frontotemporal dementia, brought on by the many collisions he endured while an NFL player. He spent the last four years of his life in an assisted living facility, after the task of providing daily care for him became too grueling for his devoted wife, Sylvia.

The last CBA between owners and players, forged in 2006, included the “88 Plan,” named for Mackey’s uniform number. It provided up to $88,000 a year for nursing care for former players with dementia or Alzheimer’s and up to 50 grand for home care. That was a positive step, and it no doubt helped Mackey. But it wasn’t enough, and Smith and the current players need to make sure this new agreement contains more. Much more.

Every player who spends at least three seasons in the league should get lifetime health benefits. Good ones, too. They’re going to need new knees, hips and ankles down the line, and they should have access to the best care possible, at minimal expense to them. We’re talking $10 co-pays and $100 hospital fees. Let’s not hear anything about “skyrocketing healthcare costs” or “pre-existing conditions.” Create and fund a plan that provides for universal acceptance. If that means the NFL has to shell out a half-billion a year, so be it. And if that means Smith has to pull the grown-up card on a bunch of selfish here-and-now types, so be it.

The astounding thing about this is that the players haven’t fought for this kind of coverage from the beginning of time. Every player, no matter how rich or successful he may be today, will some day be an ex-player. And, unlike average American citizens, they will have health problems that go well beyond the normal afflictions. Not only must they deal with threats of serious conditions and diseases, but they must also confront the specter of joint replacement, dementia and whatever comes of the supplements and P.E.D.s they took to stick around the game longer.

Some might say that a player who accumulates millions in salary over the course of his career can certainly afford to augment his Medicare coverage with a gap policy. That is true. But gaining access to such insurance isn’t so easy, since the effects of NFL play render former players extremely high risks for insurance companies, who exist not to provide care but to make money. Having a no-questions-asked entry into a plan available would provide tremendous peace of mind and long-term security for players who face increasing risk of serious injury and long-term health problems playing the sport America loves.

As the final details of the forthcoming CBA are negotiated, players and owners alike should allow John Mackey’s life – and recent death – to serve as impetus to make sure former players have the care they need. Do it for John.

And for Andre Waters. And Dave Duerson. And Mike Webster.

Do the right thing.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Nets guard Deron Williams has announced he has signed to play ball in Turkey during the NBA work stoppage. Now, Kobe Bryant says he might consider a stint in the Euroleagues. What a great idea. Less money, much more practice and the chance to suffer a serious injury that puts future 10-figure earnings at risk. And we thought Ron Artest, er, Metta World Peace was nuts. Enjoy life on the Bosphorus, Deron, but don’t expect too many of your NBA compatriots to follow. Istanbul isn’t too posse friendly…So, let’s get this straight. Oregon’s defense in the investigation into whether it paid 25 large to a street agent who helped deliver recruits is stupidity? That the Ducks really paid the money for shoddy “recruiting information?” If the NC2A buys this one, then deposed Ohio State coach Senator Sweatervest should say the e-mails he received weren’t about his players swapping memorabilia for tattoos but that they were just trying to meet Mr. Roarke’s assistant Tattoo on Fantasy Island. Absurd…Nebraska’s in trouble with the NC2A for distributing nearly $28,000 in non-required textbooks and course materials to athlete-students from 2007-10. Schools are allowed to provide mandatory books and materials, but not those items merely “recommended” by professors. In a way, the Cornhuskers should be lauded for giving athlete-students access to extra books. That laughing you hear is coming from the SEC…The Cleveland Cavaliers have announced that they will own and operate and NBA D-League franchise in Canton. Don’t they already have one of those playing in Quicken Loans Arena?...The Roger Clemens perjury trial is underway, with jury selection taking up the first several days of action. Among the potential prosecution witnesses is Majoke League Baseball commissioner Bud Sellout, who will be playing the part of Captain Renault on the stand. Sellout has been undergoing round-the-clock coaching, in case he has to testify. Among his expected answers is “I’m shocked, shocked, to find out steroids were being used.” Apparently he is having trouble saying that with a straight face.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Phillies play the Braves this weekend in their second crucial series in two weeks. Although the pitching matchups aren’t perfect for Atlanta, and the Phils will be without some key performers, it’s a measuring stick for the team with the best record in baseball and another chance for GM Ruben Amaro to see that his team needs help in the bullpen (even once Ryan Madson returns) and in the lineup. Should the Phillies sweep the three-game set and head into the All-Star break up 5 ½ games, Amaro shouldn’t stay put. The goal here is a World Series title; nothing less will do. And this team as currently constructed has holes that will make winning three playoff series difficult. There is precious little power in the lineup. The corner outfield situation is a mess. The Phillies have the best record in baseball, but 71 games remain after the break, and this is an old team that has already proven it is susceptible to injury. Here’s hoping Amaro understands the need for upgrading the roster, no matter what happens against the Braves. It’s about October and nothing else.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: People will judge this as an overreaction, but the practice of players’ throwing baseballs into the stands during games has to end. No exceptions. The tragedy Thursday night in Texas may have been a horrible accident, but it could have been averted with a zero-tolerance policy for players who toss balls into the stands. This is not the fault of Josh Hamilton – the Texas outfielder who threw the ball to the fan who fell over the railing and died later in the evening. He was just doing what MLB players do every night, several times a night. And, believe El Hombre, he is paying a heavy price for his role in the tragedy. But it’s time for an end to it. One person has died, and that’s one too many. So, no more happy tosses by first basemen to begging fans after the third out of an inning. No more over-the-head throws by outfielders after they catch fly balls. Ball girls don’t give out balls after catching them in foul territory. If a batted ball leaves the field of play, it’s fair game, but that’s it. (And don’t even try to say that the next step is the installation of a net around the entire field; that’s ridiculous.) This isn’t about tradition or fun. This is about a fan who brought his six-year old son to a baseball game and ended up in the morgue. No more tragic accidents. No more baseballs thrown into the stands. Period.

-EH-

Prince James

2011-06-10T12:13:00.001-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

To the young and largely uninitiated, or the people who believe that objectivity is “hate,” this El Hombre masterpiece is an anti-LeBron James screed. Those who think cheerleading is journalism and encouragement is analysis can’t stand reading the truth about their heroes. That’s why teams are devoting so many resources to their web sites – the better to provide positive propaganda to the willing masses – and content providers like SBNation are taking off. They feed the demand for fans’ “voices” to be heard.

So, after a big swig of “Haterade,” it’s time to get rolling on James and his Heat, who are on the precipice of a second-place NBA finish that won’t lead to another celebration like the ridiculous spectacle we endured (and espn gleefully broadcast) last summer. It’s entirely possible Miami could win games six and seven and capture the championship. Until the Mavericks took game two, the Heat was 8-0 in front of its front-running fans and should be favored in both remaining games. All is not lost, by any stretch.

The bigger issue is whether James can lay claim to the best player on the planet any longer. (Since the NBA is all about its personalities, team glory is secondary.) His performance in the Finals has proven that he absolutely cannot. On the biggest stage of his career, far bigger than his championship round appearance with Cleveland back in ’07, James has been anything but the best. His play has been so far from the top strata that it is left to his network cheerleaders to dredge the boxscore for positives, the better to avoid having to confront the truth: James isn’t made for the Alpha role.

James has managed a mere 11 points during the five fourth quarters of the series, and Thursday night’s two points came on a meaningless layup with less than a minute left. Compounding his weak offensive efforts in the final 12 minutes of Finals’ games has been shoddy defensive work, as evidenced by the eight points his man – 6-foot, 2-inch (maybe) Jason Terry – has scored in the fourth quarters of each of the last two games. James finished Game Five with 17 points, 10 rebounds and 10 assists, a very Scottie Pippen-like performance, which is fitting, since the former Michael Jordan lieutenant has said James is better than Pippen’s meal ticket. (It could be time to check whether that Central Arkansas degree he received is worth anything.) Heat coach Erik Spoelstra said afterward James “impacted the game.” That’s nice.

But it isn’t what the best player does. He doesn’t “impact” the game with a strong stat line in a loss. The best dominates. He wills a team to victory. He takes over. He doesn’t defer, clank jumpers or get toasted by a man six inches shorter than him during money time. He doesn’t tweet “Now or never” before the game and then choose “never” during it. James has done that throughout the Finals, and though espn and other NBA propagandists are hoping he rises to greatness in the last two games, it won’t matter. He isn’t the best. And he never will be.

You can’t deny his physical tools. He’s 6-8, 270, for crying out loud. He’d be big for a tight end. Or a defensive end. James can move like someone a foot smaller, is strong enough to overpower just about anybody in the league and has the ability to translate those generic physical tools into basketball production. When people talk about him as the best player in the game, they do so in terms of his skills.

The problem is that being the best requires more than just physical excellence. You must have the ability to dominate and the mentality to do so at the most crucial moments. From the moment James decided to join Dwyane Wade and the Heat, it has been obvious he is not made to handle the toughest assignments. There is nothing wrong with that – unless you want to lay claim to topping the list. Then it becomes a problem.

Everybody knows the story of how Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team. He responded by working harder and improving his game but also by conjuring a string of perceived slights and grudges that served him throughout his career. He fueled his competitive fire with anything he could find or manufacture. It didn’t matter how real it was; to Jordan, it was enough to make him want to rip out opponents’ organs and stomp them. The bigger the game, the bigger the challenge. And Jordan responded.

James, on the other hand, was anointed king practically from the moment he picked up a ball. It wasn’t necessary for him to create hurdles to clear, because he had no real competition. He was “King James” before he entered the NBA, despite winning nothing but a high school state championship. Even with the Cavaliers, he had little to overcome, because his hometown fans and media were so enthralled with his presence that they couldn’t bring themselves to criticize. His decision to play in Miami allowed him to join Wade, a proven winner, and avoid the hard work of lifting a team on his own. Since there cannot be two leaders on a team, James has slid comfortably into the number-two chair. His play during the finals, particularly during the fourth quarter, proves he belongs there.

James will get a ring. Maybe he’ll win two or three. But right now, he’s not the best player on his team, much less in the NBA. Until he proves he can consistently shine in big situations, James will be known for his substantial physical abilities alone. That’s not bad at all.

But it’s not best.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Oklahoma football coach Bob Stoops says his school won’t be “claiming any championships,” now that USC’s 2004-05 national title has been stripped by the BCS, and that’s a good thing. Usually, teams have to show up at least to get championship consideration. A look at the record book reveals the Trojans administered a 55-19 beatdown to the Sooners, a decision that would render any claim hysterical…Now that he has left THE Reprobate University, Terrell Pryor can get on with his life’s goal of becoming a third-string NFL quarterback. Nice job by Sen. Coverup and his staff teaching Pryor the position. At least he learned how to sign an autograph…Now that NASCAR has decided to merge auto racing with roller derby and pro wrestling, it’s time to do the right thing and name Jerry Springer as the commissioner. That way, throwdowns in the pits will get the treatment they deserve…After winning the first two games by the narrowest of margins, the Canucks have been outscored 12-1 in the last two. Worse, still, thanks to Alex Burrows mastication of Patrice Bergeron’s hand in Game One, the NHL has mandated that chicken fingers be removed from Vancouver’s post-game food spread…Sepp Blatter was reelected head of FIFA, ensuring another term of honest, high-integrity dealings in the soccer world. Congratulations, FIFA, you have just passed cycling as the planet’s grimiest sport. Some reports had Blatter celebrating by bathing in a tub filled with money left over from the Qatar World Cup bid…Hats off to the Texas Rangers and Houston Astros for selecting outfielder Johnathan Taylor and reliever Buddy Lamothe in the recent MLB Draft. Both were paralyzed in accidents during the past few months but had demonstrated talent before their injuries. Guess things really are bigger in Texas – including the hearts.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Sixers fans had better hold off on their celebrations if the franchise is sold to a group headed by Wharton grads Joshua Harris and David Blitzer. Yes, it will be a relief to have the franchise released from the clutches of Ed Snider, whose love of hockey and relative disdain for the NBA created the illusion that the Sixers were a second priority in relation to the Flyers. But Harris and Blitzer aren’t necessarily riding to the team’s rescue. At their core, these guys specialize in acquiring distressed assets, stripping them down and flipping them for a quick profit. They will likely pay close to $40 million below market value (as established by Forbes Magazine) for the club and might be more interested in propping it up for sale than in building a champion. We’ll learn pretty quickly whether the new owners are interested in investing for a winning future or just cutting costs. The Sixers have good basketball people in place and made progress this season. Now, they have to make the moves necessary to become contenders, not just first-round playoff losers. That requires commitment from the top. It’s encouraging the Sixers will be freed from Snider’s influence, but prosperity is hardly guaranteed in the hands of Harris and Blitzer. Let’s see if they know what to do with the ball, or if they just care about the bottom line.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Bryce Harper should have a giant welt on his right biceps right now. It should include the imprint of a baseball’s seams and remind him of his arrogance every time he lifts the arm to reach for a bag of money from his closet or wrap his arm around a young lovely on the road. He should have one on his right thigh, too, one that affects him when he tries to climb into his expensive car. Harper, the high-priced rookie outfielder in the Nationals’ system, decided to admire a homer he hit Monday off of Greensboro pitcher Zachary Neal, rather than circle the bases in a timely manner. When Neal expressed his displeasure at Harper’s behavior, Harper blew a kiss at Neal. The next time up, Harper was brushed back. He should have been drilled. Harper has plenty of talent. He could well be a big leaguer by next season. (Washington GM Mike Rizzo has said he won’t bring Harper to the big club in 2011.) But his attitude on that play was decidedly little league. If you don’t know about Harper, he was the kid who left high school a year early, in order to get to professional baseball ahead of schedule. It’s his prerogative to speed up the process, but you can see his maturity doesn’t quite match his skills. Harper has time to grow up, but if he continues to act like a buffoon after a class A homer in June, he could have a rough road in the majors, where behavior like he displayed earlier this week isn’t received too well and could lead to some hurt feelings – and body parts.

-EH-

The Great Depression

2011-03-11T07:20:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
One afternoon, a woman walked into the kitchen in the big, old home in which she grew up and found her mother standing by the stove, holding an old pot, crying.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

It seemed that during the most desperate days of the Great Depression, when the woman’s father had been without a job for years, he was walking down the street and saw in the window of the local discount store the very pot her mother was holding. It cost ten cents, and when the man reached into his pocket, he found a dime – and nothing else.

“I just knew you could use a pot like that, so I went in and bought it for you,” the father told his wife.

Having come across the pot, the woman was overcome by the memory of her deceased husband’s generosity and no doubt remembered the sacrifices the family made during a horrible era in American history, so the woman wept. For millions of Americans, The Great Depression remains a stark symbol of despair and misery. Of hopelessness. And, yes, of tragedy.

So, when Ohio State athletic director Gene Smith had the nerve to offer hard times as the reason why five Buckeye football players sold memorabilia and exchanged items for getting some free ink done, El Hombre had the same sense of fury he did after suffering through “Caddyshack II.” Smith actually said that the players’ misdeeds were grounded in the good intentions of helping their families, as if they were Depression-era kids trudging off to work in the factories in order to put food on the table for their starving parents and siblings.

Smith’s attempt to make the Buckeyes’ shenanigans seem noble was rendered even more ridiculous when former OSU players began weighing in on the matter. For instance, Antonio Pittman tweeted the following: “This osu tattoo stuff is silly. Cats been getting hookups on tatts since back in ’01.” Guess times were tough then, too.

The swag-for-ink scandal, coach Jim Tressel’s subsequent cover-up, half-assed apology and wrist-slap, two-game penalty (whatever will the Bucks do against Akron and Toledo?) and the administration’s rather cavalier attitude toward the entire situation provide a perfect microcosm into the rudderless, leaderless state of collegiate athletics. Watching Smith try to justify the players’ rule breaking with his “helping their families” rationalization was disgusting, but OSU president Gordon Gee, whose bowtie should be festooned with scarlet and gray pom-poms, was worse. His response to a question regarding whether he considered firing Tressel was one for the books. “No, are you kidding?” he said. “Let me be very clear. I’m just hoping the coach doesn’t dismiss me.”

And there it is, ladies and gentlemen, the best evidence yet that college sports has spun so far out of control that no one can possibly save it. While Gee was cracking wise with his remarks – at a time when there was no room for sarcasm – he gave a little insight into who has the power at Ohio State. When you win as many games as Tressel does, fill the stadium to bursting and make the Buckeye brand a national commodity, you do not lose your job for lying to your “superiors” or the NC2A.

Firing Tressel would be the worst thing OSU could do, because this is not a case of integrity, rather a bottom-line issue. No Buckeye fan wants to go back to the days when the only way a John Cooper-led team could beat Michigan is if the Wolverines were poisoned before kickoff. Ohio State owns the Big Ten football world, and that brings with it giant piles of cash. The payoff OSU would have received for having the guts to fire Tressel for his transgressions wouldn’t have come close to the benefit he and his high-rolling program provide to the athletic department coffers. Let’s be honest here: This is no longer about institutional credibility. It’s all about a corporate approach to sports that is utterly beholden to the almighty buck(eye).

Ohio State isn’t alone. As much of a cartoon character Gee may be and as ham-handed as the school’s handling of Tressel’s cover-up and subsequent lying might be, they aren’t much different than the ways many other big-time schools operate. As coaches bloviate about wanting to “make a difference” in the lives of players and “provide second chances” to those who run afoul of the law or NC2A regulations, this is all about winning. And presidents like Gee have sacrificed the schools’ reputations and principles in return for wins and money. Worse, they are abdicating their authority to bottom-liners like Tressel, whose futures are shaped by on-field success, rather than graduation rates and other measurements of a university’s – rather than an athletic department’s – relative health.

Anybody who read last week’s Sports Illustrated article about its survey (in conjunction with CBS News) of the criminal pasts of players on last season’s pre-season top-25 football teams learned a valuable lesson about what matters on campus these days. When asked about whether it might make sense to run background checks on prospects, coaches responded that if they did it, rivals would use that against them on the recruiting trail. At no time did a president stomp his feet and declare that there must be an end to a culture that is running amok. As long as presidents are rubber-stamping the creation of phony-baloney majors in which to stash players ill-equipped for real academic work, giving coaches free rein over the players they court and allowing a wild-west atmosphere to prevail with cash and prizes available to the best of the best, college athletics will continue to drown in its own filth.

Ohio State’s handling of the Tressel incident has been comical and outrageous, but it can’t be considered surprising. Until a courageous group of presidents stands tall and refuses to allow its institutions to be sullied any further, this kind of behavior will continue – and even intensify. It sure is fun to experience the spectacle of college athletics, but it’s becoming more and more a guilty pleasure. If people like Tressel, Gee and Smith had a quarter of the character found in the man who spent his last dime on a pot for his wife, college sports would be a better place.

Sadly, that isn’t the case.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: The NC2A men’s basketball tournament welfare program continues through Sunday, as large conferences hold their post-season affairs in attempts to help members get extra wins to gain admittance to the round of 68. Sorry, mid-majors, but there’s no room for the inn for you, now that Colorado picked up a quarterfinal victory, Washington beat Washington State…Now that the Heat have beaten the Lakers, all is right in Miami, and plans can continue apace for the championship parade. The smartest thing Erik Spoelstra did was let Dwyane Wade take the big shots down the stretch vs. L.A. As much as LeBron James is heralded as the league’s best player, he isn’t the game’s best clutch player – not even close. There’s a reason why he chose to team with Wade and Chris Bosh, and it’s because James isn’t the kind of player capable of carrying a team to a title. He’s a good – very good – second banana to Wade, and the Heat will be better off if Wade handles the heavy lifting at the end of games from here on out…Eldrick Woods may become a championship golfer again, but he isn’t close to that level right now. No longer in a cocoon protected by PGA sycophants, fawning sponsors and fearful rivals, Woods must rely on what he has inside. As he has proven over the past 18 months, that isn’t a lot…Shame on the NHL for not suspending Bruins defenseman Zdeno Chara for his hit on Montreal’s Max Pacioretty earlier this week. Pacioretty had already played the puck, and Chara used his elbow to slam Pacioretty into the bench divider along the boards. It was a cheap shot, and by not penalizing Chara, the league showed that it has a long way to go before people will think it cares about cleaning up its goon-like play. While other pro sports leagues are at least trying to cut down on hits that lead to concussions, the NHL continues to foster an anything-goes culture.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? It is now official: the Phillies need a second baseman. Whether Chase Utley has patellar tendinitis or degenerative cartilage under the kneecap, he can’t play baseball. And he probably won’t be able to play for the rest of the season. In fact, given the severity of the injury and the possible treatments beyond replacement of the kneecap, his career could be in jeopardy. If the Phillies are serious about winning the World Series, they have to make a dramatic move, because Wilson Valdez won’t cut it for 162 games. It would hurt to take on Michael Young’s salary, but it may be the only reasonable solution. Though 34 and expensive, Young is versatile, durable and productive. He’ll hit about 20 homers and knock in 80 runs. That’s not too shabby, especially for a team with questions about what it will get from the corner outfield positions. Joe Blanton has pitched well this spring, but he is a luxury on a staff with four “aces.” Trading him for Young would boost the payroll, but it may be the only way to make sure the Phils can achieve their goals. Put it this way: Do you think the team would be happier paying $8 million more than it wants to reach the Series or spending $160 million on a first-round playoff exit? Thought so.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Today could be the day it all comes crashing down, or perhaps the NFL and its players will agree to another extension and week of posturing. Remember that even though the players are making millions, they remain a labor force going up against an ownership group unwilling to provide a truthful accounting of its expenses. It’s tough to feel the same sympathy for Ray Lewis as it is for a factory worker trying to support his family, but as long as the owners continue to hold back on the facts of their business, it’s impossible to believe they’re not trying to cheat the players. The owners are furious they conceded too much in the last CBA, and they don’t want to lose this time. Fair enough, but at least be truthful about it, rather than trying to convince fans that you – the same people who force season ticket holders to buy exhibition games at full freight – have their best interests in mind. It’s a 50-50 bet that an agreement will be reached in the next couple weeks, but don’t lose sight of the parties’ goals. Yes, the players want as much money as possible, but they also want good healthcare after they retire and deal with dilapidated bodies and softening minds. The owners want money, too, and they try to convince us they’re struggling, even as their franchise values soar to nine figures and TV networks stampede to their offices with gigantic checks. Both sides are trying to win the P.R. fight for fans’ hearts and minds in this negotiation. Be careful to whom you pledge your troth.

-EH-

Something's Missing

2011-02-04T07:27:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

As the NFL promotional machine cranks itself up to new and more ridiculous levels than ever, the actual game looms mercifully Sunday as an antidote to the silliness and self-indulgence that have characterized the country’s most popular sport’s signature event. Soon, we won’t have to worry about wigs and fur coats and endless analysis about key players and difference-makers. It won’t matter whether Ben Roethlisberger sang “Piano Man” Tuesday night – and off key, at that. It will be football time, and all will be right for fans who grow ever weary of the league’s attempts to turn a competition into a spectacle and a spectacle into a parody.

We get a gift this time, as two old-time franchises trudge to the middle of False Face’s pleasure dome. No nouveau squads in garish uniforms (see Cardinals, Arizona; Seahawks, Seattle and Titans, Tennessee). No mascots. No cheerleaders, although not even El Hombre is a big enough purist to wish away that part of the show. We have two top-10 QBs, a pair of violent defenses and a notable absence of trash-spewing players and coaches. The league’s bad guys are home, licking their wounds and preparing to launch envious Twitter assaults. Amidst the 21st century nonsense that has become so much a part of the NFL experience, this game is welcome respite.

Not everything is perfect. The teams will meet indoors. And Fox will no doubt be at its self-aggrandizing best. But the worst blotch on the game is the absence of the one man capable of giving it the necessary gravitas and historical perspective. The man for whose baritone a game like this was made.

John Facenda.

The Voice of God headed to the heavenly press box in 1984, leaving NFL Films with a deficit at the microphone. His successors – the great Harry Kalas among them – though game and certainly capable, never duplicated Facenda’s legendary delivery. Hearing him say, “Otis Taylor turned a routine hitch pass into a devastating touchdown,” was almost like listening to John F. Kennedy ask us what we could do for our country. That was Facenda. That was the magic of the 1970s NFL, and that’s what El Hombre wishes he could have for this one. Pittsburgh-Green Bay does not deserve anything but the best. This matches the teams with the most Super Bowl titles (Pittsburgh: 6) and NFL championships (Green Bay: 11). It conjures memories of Vince Lombardi and the Packer Sweep, and Chuck Noll and the Steel Curtain. If any game cried out for Facenda, it was this one.

Facenda’s narration of NFL Films’ half-hour Super Bowl presentations imbued even the blandest game – like the tedious ’73 Miami-Washington ordeal – with a sense of drama. Routine plays became heroic. Big performances were rendered legendary. As the Steelers, Packers and their compelling histories prepare to clash, nothing short of Facenda’s authoritative presence could provide the necessary context. No matter how great the game is (or isn’t), there will definitely be something missing, especially as the league and its propaganda partners contort their minds in pursuit of enough “news” to fill the long hours leading up to the game.

On the field, we might not be disappointed, even if a small percentage of previous Super Bowls has been worthy of the game’s appellation. There can be little argument that the two teams represent the best of their respective conferences. Neither “shocked the world” by reaching the Super Bowl, even though Green Bay did emerge from the wild-card position to play for all the cheese. Many thought Captain Hoodie’s troops would represent the AFC, but the Steelers used their balance to beat Baltimore and the Jets – who had made the Pats look ordinary a week before.

Perhaps the best thing about both teams is that each is committed to running the football. Green Bay’s Aaron Rodgers may have thrown for 3,922 yards during the regular season, but the Packers showed a strong devotion to the run during the playoffs, averaging 31.7 carries per game, which is actually more than the passes they attempted (by a shade). The Steelers, meanwhile, ran it 23 more times than they have passed it in wins over Baltimore and New York. This is yet another reason to love the two teams. In a league that has done everything it can to propagate the passing game, they realize that truly successful
teams can mash.

And play D. That has been the Steelers’ hallmark since Chuck Noll took over back in ’69 and continues under coordinator Dick LeBeau. Under Mike McCarthy, the Packers have become better and better on that side of the ball. After spending three seasons (2006-08) out of the top 10 in total defense, the Pack has been second and fifth the past two. A big reason for that is the 2009 decision to hire Dom Capers to run the defense. Since his arrival, not to mention the ’09 decision to draft human drain plug B.J. Raji and all-everything LB Clay Matthews with the team’s two first-round picks, the Packers have been much better.

Were this game not surrounded by a full hour of commercial and promotional folderol it might be a quick one, as two teams devoted to working the clock slug it out. Instead, when Fox’s lead-in to a “very special episode” of Glee concludes, it will likely have dragged on for four hours. When it’s finally over, and the Lombardi Trophy (please, NFL, don’t redesign it like you did the conference hardware) is awarded, Pittsburgh will have grabbed its seventh Super Bowl title. The Steelers are a little better on D, will run the ball with more success, and Roethlisberger will – as usual – make a couple big plays down the stretch. Pittsburgh 24, Green Bay 20. (Post-season record against the spread: 7-3.)

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Say what you want about hockey’s goon factor, but you can’t deny the entertainment value of Thursday’s Stars-Bruins game, which featured three fights in the first four seconds (that’s right) of play…Shame on CBS College Sports for making deposed Michigan football coach Rich Ro-riguez (no D) interview his successor, Brady Hoke, on signing day. Ro-riguez deserved to get the gate in Ann Arbor, but he didn’t have to endure the session with Hoke. What’s next, video of his most recent colonoscopy?...There are reports of match fixing, gambling and gangsters in the world of sumo wrestling as the scandal ballooned this week. The scope of the investigation continues to widen, and the perps could face fat fines and hefty suspensions. Japanese TV networks are considering dropping live coverage of the March tournament and replacing it with competitive eating…Amidst huge statewide education budget cuts and continued concerns about whether some schools can even stay open, Allen HS is building a $60 million, 18,000-seat stadium on campus. At least the taxpayers’ money isn’t being wasted on something frivolous, like a new chem lab, or the people would be pretty steamed.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? When El Hombre received an e-mail Wednesday morning from an Airtight Source telling him the Eagles were about to hire a defensive coordinator who had never coached D in the NFL before, he couldn’t believe it. Neither could the two league execs he asked whether that made any sense. But, sure enough, later that day, the Birds announced they were promoting offensive line coach Juan Castillo to DC. It’s a move that defies description and explanation. No matter how the Eagles want to rationalize this, it doesn’t smell right. If moving someone from a position coaching spot one side of the ball to a coordinator’s position on the other side made so much sense, how come it isn’t done more often? Or at all? The true story of this one won’t be out for a while, and El Hombre believes it has more to do with Castillo’s replacement, formerly-retired Howard Mudd, than it does with the team’s feeling that Castillo is the next Jim Johnson. Head coach Andy Reid has put his sizeable posterior on the line before, but this could be his biggest exposure yet. Should Castillo fail to do the job, it won’t be viewed as his fault, rather the responsibility of the man who put him in the wrong position. Reid may feel he’s bulletproof within the organization, but this move might tear away some of the Kevlar that surrounds him. We’ll wait and see, out of respect to Castillo, but a failure could topple Reid’s regime.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: This is El Hombre’s 300th effort, and the past six-plus years have been a fun ride – to where, nobody really knows. What began as a means of clearing the opinions out of a cluttered mind has turned into something with (limited) national appeal and a community of readers/responders that is edifying. EH promises the next 300 missives will be filled with the same passion, strident beliefs, whimsy and, yes, anger – not to mention plenty of Animal House references – that the previous collection was. If you like what you’re seeing, you can find more by checking out @DailyHombre on Twitter. Thanks for reading.

-EH-

School Daze

2011-01-21T05:11:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Last week, El Hombre had the opportunity to interview the only Iranian playing Division I basketball. Arsalan Kazemi is a spring-loaded forward who’s averaging about 17 and 11 for Rice, and he doesn’t mention “jihad” or “Great Satan” whenever he talks about America. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from being detained every time he comes to the country by security officials who think he’s in the country to collect some yellowcake uranium or detonate an IED at the Rose Parade. At least his wait time has dropped, from six-and-a-half hours the first time he arrived here, to three hours. Pretty soon, he’ll get sent on his way with only a body-cavity scavenger hunt by Sausage Fingers McGee.

After discussing Kazemi’s journey from the crowded Iranian city of Esfahan to Houston, El Hombre asked the Owl sophomore if he was still studying economics, as an earlier article had revealed. The answer was depressing.

“I changed my major to sports management, with a minor in business, because it was too hard to study economics and play basketball,” he said.

Here’s a kid from Iran, who is clearly pretty sharp – why else would he think to tackle economics in the first place? – and the rigors of his sport have forced him to find an easier way to navigate Rice’s academic waters. Nothing against sports management majors; they may some day be running athletic departments and NBA franchises, but it’s sad that Kazemi has surrendered his original major for something that makes it easier for him to bounce the round ball. At least he’s still in a course of study that has the potential to serve him down the road. Most players who are shunted away from serious paths in the pursuit of great athletic glory are directed toward concentrations like astrology or history of grunge rock.

It’s time for college athletics to drop the sham and admit that they have taken over many of this nation’s fine academic institutions. The idea of sports as an extracurricular activity is quaint. The thought that it is a way for universities to promote themselves is antiquated. Today’s big-time (and big-time hopeful) programs are corporations that rival the professional teams from which they once worked so hard to separate themselves. Wednesday’s announcement that espn was paying the University of Texas $300 million for the rights to produce 20 years of the Longhorn Network just about sealed the deal. Even though Texas threw the pointy-heads a bone by endowing a pair of professor’s chairs with some of the booty, the windfall is the latest and most damning argument against college sports.

Most astonishing, at least from espn’s point of view is what the channel will run. Since Texas has deals with Fox and espn to televise the vast majority of its football and men’s basketball games, the LN will get one grid contest, most likely against Amarillo College of Animal Husbandry, and eight hoop games, with the centerpiece likely to be the annual clash with Iowa State. Other than that, we’re looking at 24 hours a day of “Olympic” sports and the ever-popular “shoulder programming,” of coaches’ shows, hard-hitting newsmagazines, feature shows (“Bevo’s Blind Date”) and other pap. Texas gets $15 mil a year, on top of the 10 large it takes in from IMG for radio and on-line rights and $10-15 million from the Big 12 for TV, bowls and NC2A tournament appearances. Last year, the school’s athletic budget was a nation’s-highest $137 million. Expect that to grow considerably as athletic administrators find ways to use espn cash to buy their wives burnt-orange mink coats. And El Hombre won’t even get into the conflict of interest between espn, which still purports itself to be a news-gathering organization, and one of the schools it covers.

As the coffers fill to capacity, the Athlete-Students continue to take the brunt of it, whether it’s through phony-baloney courses of “study,” onerous NC2A rules designed to favor institutions or a continued refusal to share the revenue streams that are generated through their hard work and sacrifice. Guys like Kazemi are the lucky ones. He’ll likely get a degree from a fine university like Rice. That should help him back home or here, once his basketball playing days are over. Others will leave school with no marketable skill and an “education” that prepares them little for the professional world. Meanwhile, the cash registers at factories like Texas continue to ring at record rates, and the professionalization of college sports continues at a breakneck pace. The Longhorn Network is the next step in a natural progression, but it’s one that causes more concern than the usual money grabs executed by big-time programs. While it’s unlikely East Carolina will get its own network any time soon, the barrier has been broken, and soon all the other big boys will want a TV channel of their own.

If they don’t get that, they’ll find some other way to rake in extra cash. Meanwhile, tuitions soar, academic programs are cut, and most professors’ salaries don’t come near those of coaches. Enjoy it all now, because in 10-15 years, the whole thing will be undistinguishable from the professional ranks – with one exception.

The players will be getting screwed.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Mr. Metallurgy dropped a resounding “Nyet!” on the Carmelo Anthony-to-New-Jersey trade, no doubt upsetting Nets fans in the short run but helping the team in the long haul. Anthony is a selfish scorer who will never win a ring, unless he plays a supporting role on an all-star team. You don’t want him as a leader, and his petulance and lack of professionalism this season prove that…Here’s some more big NBA news: Brandon Jennings will be replaced in the NBA Slam Dunk Contest lineup by DeMar DeRozan. DeWho DeCares? If the league were smart, it would lower the rims to 9 feet and have a Legends Dunk Contest featuring Dr. J, Michael Jordan, Dominique Wilkins and Darnell Hillman’s mighty, mighty Afro…TV analyst Todd Woodbridge’s series of gaffes surrounding the shape of tennis star Kim Clijsters is priceless. First, he texted a friend that Clijsters seemed “grumpy” and that her “boobs are bigger,” indications to him that she was pregnant. Then, in a televised interview, he asked outright whether Clijsters was indeed in the family way. What’s next, telling Serena Williams that her outfit makes “her butt look big?” Wise up, Todd…Off of Oahu, surfing officials are gearing up for the possibility of a rare “Eddie,” the contest that only takes place when wave heights reach 20 feet. Boarders from all over will head to the islands for next Thursday’s contest. The only rule: First one to California wins…There was some big news in college basketball earlier this week when John Calipari cursed out one of his players. The horror! There were also rumors Tom Izzo yelled at a ref, Coach K made a sarcastic comment and Jim Boeheim whined. Please.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The only thing moderately surprising about Andy Reid’s decision to fire defensive coordinator Sean McDermott was that the Eagles’ coach told assembled media five days earlier that McDermott was coming back for the ’11 season. Reid usually equivocates in such situations, preferring instead to consider situations, look at film and read Tarot cards, rather than give a direct answer. Offering up McDermott makes perfect sense for a coach who is unwilling to take responsibility for his team’s defensive shortcomings. No amount of “that’s on me” comments can mask his rear-covering decision to axe McDermott, rather than acknowledge that not even Buddy Ryan could have crafted a bloodthirsty defense out of the shaky personnel Reid provided. The Eagles lack playmakers at all positions, have a crashing dearth of talent at cornerback behind Asante Samuel and don’t care about signing or drafting impact linebackers. Jim Johnson was a master, but he had far more talent at his disposal than did McDermott. It’s no surprise the coach was picked up immediately by the Panthers, because everybody around the league realized Reid was merely trying to protect himself at the expense of someone else. In the future, he’ll have to do a better job with that.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: As NFL commissioner Roger Goodell prepares for the lockout and the 18-game season designed to line owners’ wallets and cripple the workforce, he’s probably popping open bottles of champagne every hour to celebrate the league’s conference title game matchups. It’s almost perfect. No stupid uniforms like the Cardinals’ all-red jobs or any Titans combination. Both games will be played on grass. Outdoors. There is tradition. There are great QBs. Expect a ratings bonanza – and two pretty good football games. The Jets and linebacker Bart Scott “CAN’T WAIT!” for their trip to Pittsburgh, but that thinking may be a little short-sighted. Sure, the Jets beat the Steelers in December, but Troy Polamalu did not play that day for Pittsburgh. New York has been impressive in defeating Indy and the Bradys, but taking down three straight heavyweights on the road is too tall a task. Pittsburgh 23, New York 14. The 183rd renewal of the Bears-Packers rivalry is the biggest one yet and only the second post-season meeting between the historic foes. Expect a steady dose of old-school footage before the game – thankfully – and a pair of rough-and-tumble defenses once kickoff comes. Green Bay QB Aaron Rodgers gets the edge over Chicago’s Jay Cutler, even though Cutler has played well of late, but the difference in this one will be the Packers’ underrated D. Green Bay 24, Chicago 17.

-EH-

Ready For Some (Playoff) Football

2011-01-07T05:55:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Earlier this week, NFL commissioner Roger Goodell sent out an intimate e-mail to about 5 million of the league’s customers declaring that labor peace will be achieved, and America’s number one sporting religion will not miss a minute of revenue gathering. On the confidence scale, it was akin to Justin Bieber’s saying he was ready to whip up on Randy Couture. Unless Goodell and his robber baron bosses can get players to accept a longer season, less money and a continued capricious approach to discipline – “The NFL: We care! (About offensive players.) – we’re looking at a work stoppage that could threaten the scintillating mini-camp, OTA and exhibition game portions of the program.

The biggest sham in the whole labor mess is the league’s insistence on an 18-game season. Or at least the P.R. run-up to it. After trying to convince us throughout the last several months that the players’ welfares were truly at the heart of league policy, Goodell and the billionaires want to add two games to the schedule, thereby expediting the future need for joint replacements and adding dozens more opportunities for players to endure the kind of dementia-inducing hits that already have 45-year old former warriors stumbling around like Lindsay Lohan on a bender.

Give Goodell and his propaganda ministers credit for concocting a scheme that has softened up fans in advance of the 18-game season. By fining (defensive) players for helmet-on-helmet hits and inventing terms like “defenseless receiver,” they have made it appear as if safety is the league’s top priority. This from a group of people who denied for years that blows to the head had dangerous short and long-term effects.

It is against that backdrop of hypocrisy that the NFL playoffs begin. Enjoy them, folks, because it could be many months before the big fellas start destroying their bodies for our enjoyment again. Of course, unless you live in New England, it’s going to be hard to derive too much pleasure from the proceedings, since the Patriots are so much better than everybody else that the tournament seems as pertinent as a public service announcement from the cast of “Jerseylicious.”

El Hombre isn’t so addled (yet) that he doesn’t remember the early February day in 2008, when the undefeated Pats lost to New York in the Super Bowl, delighting Mercury Morris and proving that nothing is guaranteed in the NFL. But this New England outfit seems different – and better equipped to go the distance – than did its predecessor. Tom Brady’s rock-star look notwithstanding, this is about the biggest blue-collar collection of successful players in recent memory. When your offensive skill package includes a Gronkowski, a Chadron State product, a double-hyphenated running back and a “star” receiver whose career average per catch is 10.7 yards, and you still lead the league in points scored, you have something special. And you want to talk about a “no-name” defense? Try these on for size: Banta-Cain, Ninkovich, Chung and Mayo. That sounds like one of those law firms you see advertised on local cable stations.

It all begins with Captain Hoodie, who espouses the philosophy that you don’t get the best 53 players; you get the right 53 players. For him, winning football is not the province of superstars but of players who want to sacrifice their egos for the system. That’s why he had no problem jettisoning overcooked wideout Randy Moss, once he went into full tantrum mode. It’s about production, not endorsements, and these Pats have a roster full of bottom-line players who appear invincible right now.

Of course, it’s rather easy to extol the proletarian virtues of a team when its QB is the best around. Brady is enjoying his second-best season (the remarkable ’07 campaign is out of reach), completing 65.9% of his passes and tossing 36 TD strikes against a mere four picks. He has maximized his production despite a stable of receivers that includes no big-play threat and precious little proven depth. That Brady is playing at such a high level is a testament to his powers, as well as the Patriots’ ability to outscheme and outexecute opponents. You may have more star power, but their team is superior to your big names.

That’s not to say the Pats are bulletproof. Baltimore smacked them around in Foxboro last year. The Steelers have shown plenty so far. And even Rex Ryan’s bunch is dangerous, provided it doesn’t fold up again in New England when the Pats start firing live ammunition, or if the coach gets distracted by a pair of sexy cheerleader feet.

Over in the NFC, the Falcons would like you to believe they are Super Bowl timber. They’re not. Roddy White is having a great year, but teams with just one receiver have problems against good post-season defenses. The scariest teams in that conference appear to be the two wild cards entries, New Orleans and Green Bay. The Saints beat Atlanta on the road a couple weeks ago and still have Drew Brees under center, last time El Hombre checked. The Packers, meanwhile, get plenty of attention for their great passing game, but it’s the Green Bay defense – ranked fifth in the NFL – that is the team’s biggest asset, particularly on the road. Don’t be surprised if one (or even both) of them is in the NFC title game.

That’s a few weeks off. Right now, fans need to get ready for the Wild Card round and perhaps the last time early January football will be of the playoff variety. If commissioner Goodwill and his owners get their wishes, this time of year will still be regular season, contusions and concussions be damned. Stay tuned for the next e-mail.

Here are this week’s playoff picks. Get ready to cash in, baby! New Orleans minus-10.5 over Seattle; Indianapolis minus-2.5 over the Jets; Baltimore minus-3 over Kansas City; Green Bay plus-2.5 against the Eagles.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: So, LeBron James has dubbed Miami the “Heatles,” has he? Clever, but James forgets one thing: People actually cheered when the Beatles came to town. He and his made-for-championship cronies don’t engender similar affection…Don’t know about you, but El Hombre has been riveted to the post-Jan. 1 bowl action. You just can’t beat a Middle Tennessee-Miami (OH) matchup. And that Kentucky-Pittsburgh clash promises to be a real humdinger. Looking for a culprit? Consider espn, which continues to manipulate everything it can about sports to suit its programming needs…Kudos to caring Penn State coach Joe Paterno, who denied quarterback Robert Bolden’s request for transfer. It isn’t enough that schools can terminate players’ scholarships after each season or run them off when their performance doesn’t match expectation. Now, Paterno wants to restrain an unhappy player from finding a better situation. Let your people go, Joe…Rafael Palmeiro is upset that he received only 11% of the vote in the recent Hall of Fame balloting and still blames someone else for his positive steroid test. Tough darts. Let’s hope voters continue to punish the juicers by denying them entrance to the Hall. If that means fewer members, so be it…Stay tuned to this space for periodic updates on the shocking scandal that has rocked the cricket world. Three Pakistani players have been accused of bowling “no-balls” at prearranged times during a test match with England and face lifetime bans. Speaking of no balls, how about that “performance” by Miami in the Sun Bowl. The Hurricane players dressed like they were ready for a forced march to Murmansk and played like they couldn’t wait to get back to Coral Gables. New coach Al Golden has plenty of work to do.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Many media members and plenty of fans are devoting substantial energy to the Packers’ passing attack when assessing Sunday’s Green Bay-Philadelphia wild-card playoff game. While Aaron Rodgers and his crew of sticky-handed receivers are extremely dangerous, the real challenge for the Eagles comes from the Packer defense, which ranks fifth in the NFL and is no doubt frothing at the opportunity to see whether Michael Vick will continue his regression to the run-around QB he was in Atlanta. In a way, you can’t blame Vick’s move backward. He’s learning a brand new way to play the position, so it’s natural that he uses his instincts as a default reaction to new and more dangerous schemes from rival defenses. Plus, since he’s behind such a shaky offensive line, it’s hard to hang in and progress to the third read when marauding blitzers are charging toward him. If the Eagles want to have a chance Sunday, they had better keep Vick clean. Otherwise, he’ll be running around and likely commit backbreaking turnovers that will contribute to an early post-season exit.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: By waiting until Jan. 5 to make Rich Rodriguez’s dismissal official, Michigan head coach David Brandon added extra pressure to his search for a new head football coach. Worse, if he truly believed Rodriguez could have saved his job with a strong bowl showing against the SEC West’s fifth-place team, Wolverine fans shouldn’t have too much faith in his ability to choose the right man to replace Rodriguez. It was obvious to everybody that Rodriguez had to leave, and U-M’s ugly losses to Wisconsin and Ohio State proved that. If Brandon needed to see the Wolverines stumble around in the second half against Mississippi State(!) in order to decide Rodriguez’s fate, he wasn’t paying much attention the rest of the season. Let’s hope he was merely trying to save the $1.5 mil that came off Rodriguez’s buyout after Jan. 1 and that he has been compiling candidates all along and working back channels to make the right hire. And don’t think it has to be someone who is necessarily a “Michigan Man.” For instance, even though Northwestern coach Pat Fitzgerald has denied interest, he is definitely considering the spot but keeping it very quiet, due to his current post as a Big Ten head coach.

-EH-

The Stupidest Thing in the World

2010-10-15T07:39:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

The entire sporting world – and most of Fantasyland – is waiting anxiously for Sunday’s release of the first BCS standings of the 2010 season. Once made public, these rankings will tell us definitively which teams computers and pollsters believe are the best in the college football. It’s sort of like determining the next president by letting the candidates play a winner-take-all tennis match. Those of you who follow El Hombre closely are quite familiar with his intense disdain for the BCS and revulsion at the people who propagate the sham.

It’s a regular exercise in hilarity, because each week, almost without fail, the rankings are proven to be ridiculous, thanks to wins by lower ranked opponents over their “superiors” or a particularly impressive win by a team believed to be incapable of such behavior. If these rankings fail each week, how can anybody expect them to be accurate at the end of the regular season, when the top two lucky teams play for the “national championship?” It’s a good thing the people who try to jam this thing down fans’ throats each year don’t have to spend any time in the colleges they rank, because they would most assuredly fail logic.

The list of people complicit in the charade is long. It includes conference commissioners of the five major conferences – and the Big East – BCS mouthpiece Bill Hancock, who will most definitely be able to get a job as spokesman for nuclear waste after his stint is done, hypocritical college presidents and media members who use the old “it’s the best thing we have” defense for their sycophantic support of this deception. Perhaps the most culpable are coaches, who can rarely be heard criticizing the BCS, even though it runs counter to their collective core essence. Want to get any coach angry? Tell him his team isn’t as good as another – on paper. That’s exactly what the BCS does, yet coaches aren’t screaming from the mountaintops about its awful methods and outcomes.

Of course, it’s a lot easier to get people to buy a pile of horse manure when you have the loudest carnival barkers in the land selling it. They would be the BCS TV partners, who aren’t about to explain the emperor’s decision to wear no clothing when their fiscal health depends on the ratings (and ad revenues) generated by the sartorial blunder. By the time the “big game” is played, it doesn’t matter whether the combatants have nine losses or pristine slates. The hype that has gone into it convinces the masses that they are seeing a legitimate title tilt, rather than the by-product of voting and calculations, which have replaced blocking and tackling in the minds of many fans as the foundation of football.

Those of us who are forced to pay attention to such things out of professional necessity will be interested to see how the early returns shake out. Will Ohio State, the darling of the pollsters so far (even the motley collection of Harris voters thinks so) be able to supplant Boise State, Oregon and Auburn, all of which are ahead of the Buckeyes in pre-election tracking polls? Will Boise State execute a gradual, two-month slide from consideration, thanks to its lightweight collection of rivals from here on out? Are the Ducks a legitimate high-scoring phenomenon, incapable of being headed by any team from the Pac-10, or are they just fast starters without the necessary stamina to last the entire race?

Is Auburn for real? What do we make of Nebraska and its dashing young QB? How good is Oklahoma? Can LSU keep pulling victories out of its…well, can the Tigers keep winning improbably, and will another couple magical victories land Les Miles a coaching gig at Hogwarts? Will Alabama rebound? Can Michigan State keep it up? Will Utah and TCU make trouble for everybody?

In other words, we don’t know anything yet. The beauty of most sports is that it doesn’t matter at this point, because a true champion will eventually emerge, thanks to a legitimate playoff process. In ridiculous cases, like figure skating and college football, voting holds the most sway, and it’s impossible to tell whether or not the team that is crowned “champion” is really the best. Because the BCS has locked up its paycheck through the 2014 season, we’ll have to wait for a chance to decide things the right way.

In the meantime, study the weekly BCS standings closely. You’ll be quite amused to see teams that have beaten others ranked below their victims, even if the schools have the same records. You’ll notice inconsistencies in the coaches’ poll, where some voters pump their friends and conference mates in order to protect allegiances. And don’t forget about the ever-maddening punishment for late losses, versus earlier slip-ups. A team may have rampaged through the regular season without giving up a point, but if it loses its conference title game, it will suffer the agony of a huge poll drop.

If you want more fun, purchase “Death to the BCS: The Definitive Case Against the Bowl Championship Series,” by Yahoo Sports writers Dan Wetzel, Josh Peter and Jeff Passan. In it, they do things like show how the BCS Pooh-Bahs kept altering the computer models to get outcomes that better replicate the polls, at the expense of mathematical legitimacy. They delve into the back-room dealings of the “cartel” that runs the thing and show how smaller schools are systematically excluded from the big money. It’s logical, entertaining and infuriating. And it probably won’t make a dent in the BCS stranglehold on the world’s greatest sport, because fans aren’t savvy enough to understand what’s going on, and media members who celebrate the disgrace won’t face facts. In other words, the status quo prevails.

It’s BCS time, everybody. Let the foolishness begin.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: The University of Mississippi has voted on its new mascot, and the winner is the Rebel Bear. Genius move, since there are fewer than 100 bears in the state. Runner up was the Land Shark. Ah, higher education in the Deep South…Let’s see if El Hombre understands this: The NBA toughens technical foul standards to stop players from whining so much, and the players respond with…more whining. Fan-tastic!...The Pirates have interviewed seven people for their open managerial position but have yet to find someone masochistic enough to take the job. Next up, a few fans of “Glee.”…Another great job by the NHL: The league suspended Chicago tough guy Niklas Hjalmarsson two games for a cheap shot on Buffalo’s Jason Pominville. He’s due back just in time to play…the Sabres. Genius. Buffalo enforcer Patrick Kaleta has already promised retribution. Couldn’t have made it three games, huh fellas? Pominville suffered a concussion and a cut that had to be stitched up. Needed to have that revenge factor, did you? And the league wonders why some people don’t take it seriously…The International Olympic Committee came away pleased with the progress being made in Sochi, Russia, for the 2014 Winter Games. Although hotel construction is lagging, the IOC reps were impressed with facilities and the Olympic Gulag, which will house anyone who dares criticize Russian maximum leader Vladimir Putin. Russia also unveiled the ’14 Olympic mascot: a bloated organized crime figure draped in gold chains.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Another year, another NLCS appearance for the Phillies – and it never gets boring. The Phils face San Francisco this time, and although the Giants have some great starting pitching, a lights-out closer (Brian Wilson) and a ballpark that has been something of a haunted house for the Phillies, they are decided underdogs. The reason has more to do with experience and knowing how to win than it does with the actual on-field matchups. Sure the Phils are loaded with talent all over the place, but no team in baseball (except maybe the Yankees) knows better how to take full advantage of an opponent’s weaknesses and mistakes better than Philadelphia. They proved it against Cincinnati, and they will no doubt prey on the Giants’ miscues. This will be an entertaining series, if only because of the amazing pitching matchups (Roy Halladay vs. Tim Lincecum is a big-time showdown), but the Phillies prevail – in six – because of their toughness and continued propensity for capitalizing on rivals’ gaffes.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: As the media and NFL investigators delve deeper into the unseemly allegations against Cowboy Quarterback, the inevitable backlash has begun. People are wondering why it took so long – two years – for all of this to surface. They’re wondering whether the alleged target of CQ’s affections, Jenn Sterger, is looking for publicity and if she invited the advances. It’s classic table-turn against an alleged victim of harassment, and it stinks. Sterger and CQ didn’t seem to be involved in any relationship, and it appears that Cowboy Quarterback was clearly the pursuer in this. Were the crazy behavior simply a man’s efforts to land his quarry, that would be one thing. Since this involved two employees of the same organization, one of whose status within the concern was far higher than the other’s, this is not only news, it’s big news. The NFL is doing the right thing by investigating this closely. Let’s hope Sterger cooperates fully, along with the two massage therapists who have come forward with information of their own. If Cowboy Quarterback did do this, he must be suspended. And those who are trying to protect him and knock down Sterger need to examine their motivation and perhaps stop with the hero worship.

-EH-

October Is Beautiful -- Or Awful

2010-10-08T06:34:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

For nearly four decades after Michigan hired a former Ohio State assistant and handed him its cherished football program, the month of October meant the beginning of Big Ten play in earnest and the inexorable march toward the annual season-ending collision with the Buckeyes. Leaves changed. Temperatures dropped. And the colorful spectacle that is Big Ten football proceeded on schedule, with the Wolverines tearing through the opposition on the way to that November showdown. There were disappointments along the way, but the triumphs far outpaced the losses.

That changed in 2008, when Rich Rodriguez took over for Lloyd Carr, the last of the dynastic line that began with Bo Schembechler and also included Grand Marnier Moeller. October, once a wonderful month of conquest, became a time of failure and a symbol of the program’s fading glory. Instead of setting up the OSU clash, the Wolverines fell into the abyss, posting a 1-8 record in October play, eliminating themselves from conference play and rendering college football’s greatest rivalry meaningless before the Great Pumpkin rose from the most sincere patch around.

The first two years of Rodriguez’s tenure have been loaded with enough sins to require a standing reservation for him at the college football confessional. He has refused at times to honor Michigan’s traditions, tried to excuse his team’s shortcomings with barbs directed at the previous administration, lost to Toledo, junked Michigan’s long-standing offensive and defensive schemes and their variations, dragged the school through the ugly buyout imbroglio with West Virginia, his former employer, caused several players to leave the program, brought unwanted publicity to Michigan with his role in shady business dealings and directed a spectacularly inept 2009 season that included a 1-7 conference record and a last-place Big Ten finish. Oh, and don’t forget the NC2A investigation that hangs over the program like a chemical cloud. Michigan doesn’t do probation – at least not in football.

Last Saturday, the first of football’s magical month, Michigan overcame a statistical nightmare against Indiana to subdue the Hoosiers, 42-35, and push its record to a pristine 5-0. Some might say a last-minute win over IU is no reason for celebration, and they would be right, if the triumph didn’t spike the anticipation levels for Saturday’s mid-season family feud with Sparty to levels generally reserved for balmy March weather forecasts.

The win even gave Rodriguez a brief respite from the personal mayhem that has surrounded him over the past nine months. He smiled and seemed genuinely happy during early-week press conferences. His critics have silenced themselves, and attention on the program has focused on magical quarterback Denard Robinson, who has made opposing defenders appear sloth-like and turned otherwise respected defensive coordinators into Barney Fifes with his Hermes-like speed and Mk 13-style arm. A victory over Michigan State Saturday at a packed Big House that has ticket scalpers drooling would remove Rodriguez further from speculation about his future and make those appalled by pending probationary penalties a little less sick. They say winning is a deodorant, and should Michigan get past MSU and Iowa in the next two weeks (both games are at home), they will have generated enough of the stuff to make the primate house smell like the Tri-Delt drawing room.

It’s a wonderful situation, and it comes with enough potential trouble to make even the most optimistic Wolverine fan pause. Let’s face it, Michigan’s first five opponents haven’t exactly been world-beaters. Most of them haven’t been anybody-beaters. In the opener, the Wolverines dumped a disinterested Connecticut team that holds as its signature win so far a triumph over SEC doormat Vanderbilt. Beating Notre Dame used to mean something, but watching the Irish get stomped by Stanford ended that myth. A near miss against I-AA Massachusetts had U-M fans chugging Maalox like frat boys turned loose on an open bar. Stomping Bowling Green was almost embarrassing, and the triumph over Indiana came despite surrendering 568 total yards and a time-of-possession deficit that was a mind-boggling 41:47-18:13.

Michigan’s defense is awful. It’s 102nd overall (out of 120) and dead last against the pass. The offense, while dynamic and highly dangerous, depends almost exclusively on Robinson, who has accounted for 67.7% of the Wolverines’ production. If you don’t think MSU, Iowa and the rest of the Big Ten powers remaining on the U-M schedule won’t be able to concoct strategies to limit Robinson, you’re a bit naïve.

Saturday’s game represents a fabulous opportunity for Rodriguez, who can secure further his hold on the head-coaching job and accumulate more political capital to spend should the NC2A’s verdict be particularly embarrassing for a program that prides itself on never having been punished. It also begins the heart of Big Ten play and a three-game stretch (Sparty, Herky, Penn State) that will likely define the team’s season. Should Michigan go 2-1 and get bowl eligible before Halloween, the drumbeat for Jim Harbaugh will quiet somewhat – but not go away completely. But 1-2 or 0-3 will bring up the same Rodriguez criticisms and give the Harbaugh crowd further ammunition. Richie Rod may be smiling now, but he has some deep, dark waters to navigate in the coming weeks.

The leaves are changing. Big Ten football has begun in earnest. It’s a beautiful time.

And it can turn ugly pretty darn fast.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Looks like the MLB umpires are in high form already, and the post-season is only two days old. The missed third-strike call Thursday night in the Minnesota-New York game was borderline criminal, as was the blown check-swing call before Michael Young’s three-run bomb for Texas against Tampa Bay. Replay can only cover up so much incompetence…Conspiracy theorists don’t have to stretch too far to concoct a scenario in which the NFL and espn orchestrated the Randy Moss-to-Minnesota trade. Think about it: the Vikes play the Jets Monday night on espn, Cowboy Quarterback’s team has been floundering and incapable of providing sufficient drama, and Moss has been out of the spotlight in New England. It’s a perfect storm. Don’t laugh; when there are billions of dollars involved, anything is possible…For both you NHL fans out there, here’s a fearless prediction for this season: Saskatoon over Vladivostok in seven. Okay, Detroit over Pittsburgh in six…North Carolina football coach Butch Davis is trying to make us believe he had no idea former assistant John Blake had close ties to player agent Gary Wichard. If he didn’t, shame on him for not vetting his staff better. If he did, double shame for employing somebody capable of damaging him, his program and the school...Let’s hope LeBron James isn’t too worried about Dwyane Wade’s hamstring pull. It’s never easy for a sidekick to see his mentor in a compromised position, so the Heat had better make sure James is properly comforted and assured that he’ll still be able to ride Wade to that NBA title he covets. And playing the race card to defend himself against those who criticized his self-serving “Decision” and desire to gain marketing millions by winning a title on a team filled with stars further amplifies James’ inability to lead. There are a lot of downsides to James’ signing with Miami, but the biggest is that we now have to root for Kobe Bryant, the only man on the planet capable of bringing down the Heat.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Imagine that you are Roy Oswalt or Cole Hamels, the other two-thirds of the Phillies’ celebrated pitching troika, and you are charged over the next three days with finishing off the “happy-to-be-here” Reds. Exactly what do you do to follow what Roy Halladay accomplished Wednesday night? Go ahead, Roy II. Toss a two-hit shutout. Hey, Cole, how about going the route in a taut, 2-1 series-clinching victory? Next to Halladay, both performances would look like CZ beside the Hope Diamond. Had Halladay not walked Jay Bruce in the fifth inning, he would have had his second perfecto of the year and a spot among the sport’s immortals. Halladay’s performance was so impressive because of its stage, the circumstances and the lethal efficiency with which he dispatched the Reds. If Halladay plans on following that effort up with an October of similar dominance, the Phillies may be invincible, particularly if Oswalt and Hamels back him up with solid – if not legendary – outings of their own. In the short period since Halladay’s no-no, he has been called this generation’s Sandy Koufax and compared to Don Larsen, who tossed a World Series perfect game in ’56. The Phillies couldn’t care less about how the rest of the baseball world sees him. They’ll just call him “Ace.”

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Even though most people need no further proof that Brent Musburger is a chowderhead, he continues to provide evidence. His latest submission came Tuesday, when he told a group of students at the University of Montana that he thought professional athletes should be able to use anabolic steroids to improve their performance, provided they were under doctors’ supervision. “I’ve had somebody say that, you know, steroids should be banned because they’re not healthy for you,” Dr. Musburger said. “Let’s go find out. What do the doctors actually think about anabolic steroids and the use by athletes? Don’t have a preconceived notion that this is right or this is wrong.” Preconceived notion? About the only physician we could find who supports the use of steroids by athletes is Dr. Anthony Galea, and he’s not exactly in the best position right now, thanks to a federal investigation. Fortunately for us, Dr. Gary Wardler, who works with the World Anti-Doping Agency, was consulted and firmly refuted Musburger’s misguided comments. “He’s categorically wrong, and if he’d like to spend a day in my office, I can show him voluminous literature going back decades about the adverse effects of steroids,” he said. “They have a legitimate role in medicine that’s clearly defined, but if it’s abused, it can have serious consequences.” Musburger may have fooled espn enough to stay on the air with his irritating style and continuous blather, but when it comes to medicine, he had better shut up. What an idiot.

-EH-

Get It While You Can

2010-09-10T04:20:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Make sure you squeeze every drop of NFL action you can out of this season, sports fans, because the way things look, it’s going to be a long while before the big fellas are hitting again. You want to talk Hard Knocks? Try what the owners are going to do to the players in the upcoming labor negotiations.

Unlike Paul Tagliabue, who preached conciliation and practically was pinned to former labor boss Gene Upshaw, Roger Goodell is a war-time consigliere, and that suits capos like False Face, Captain Mac-and-Cheese, Little Danny and The B-Movie King just fine. They want more dough, and Goodell won’t stop squinting until he gets it for them.

This time next year, expect a lockout, enough angry rhetoric to fill a presidential election cycle and some posse members looking for real work. With that specter looming like a swimsuit competition on The View, let’s make the most of the coming NFL season and all of its glorious plot lines.

Sigmund Freud’s All-Stars: During Field of Dreams, Terence Mann asks Ray Kinsella, “You’re seeing an entire team of psychiatrists, aren’t you?” but he could well have been addressing the Bengals’ trio of Chad Ochocrazy, Me-O and “Make It Rain” Jones, who will no doubt lead Cincinnati coach Marvin Lewis to the shrink’s couch this season. You can always count on Cincy for something bizarre, whether it’s the team’s previous front office circus, its hideous uniforms or its proclivity for coming up short in key situations. This year may establish a new standard. Jones has pledged to keep his mouth shut and even shed his toxic “Pac-Man” moniker, but keeping a lid on the Ativan Twins may prove impossible for the franchise. Get ready for a season of can-you-top-this lunacy that could land Lewis in the Laughing Academy – or on the bread line.

Jersey Sure: After watching his performance during HBO’s Hard Knocks, network execs were no doubt salivating over the concept of The Rex Ryan Variety Show. You know, a little song, a little dance, a pair of double-XL pants. It sure was fun watching the Big Fella bludgeon the Jets through the pre-season, and now Ryan must navigate a league filled with people who want to beat the hell out of his team. That may sound fine to the coach, but he’s not the one out there cracking heads. The Jets have a new stadium of their own (or at least half of a new stadium) and a lot of talent. They also have the undivided attention of each opponent. That’s not the best thing with a young QB still learning how to pass to his teammates. But at least Ryan is ready for his close-up. And safe on the sidelines.

Into the Sunset (Maybe): El Hombre can assure you that this is the final season for Cowboy Quarterback. He’ll hang ‘em up after throwing another crushing post-season interception and never – EVER – ride Old Paint onto the gridiron again. Unless he doesn’t. Unless his dad-gum love of NFL football overpowers reason and his saddle-sore body. Unless his love of slapping backsides, throwin’ snowballs and just living every kid’s dream is too powerful. Unless being with “his guys” in the locker room is better than being with “his family” on the ranch in Mississippi. Unless the Vikings send Joe Kapp, Mick Tinglehoff and Leif Ericson to beg him. Here are a couple fearless predictions regarding Number Four: 1. He doesn’t play every game; 2. He goes into seclusion when the Packers reach the Super Bowl.

Exile on C Street: Many Eagles fans got their wish in April when their team shipped out QB Donovan McNabb and began the much-anticipated Kevin Kolb Era. Forget that half the city still can’t pronounce the young passer’s last name (KOBB) or that when the Birds drafted him four years ago few knew where he had played his college ball or had ever watched him perform. He wasn’t McNabb, and that was good enough for them. While Kolb endures his inevitable growing pains, McNabb tries to help turn the fetid Redskins into contenders. It won’t be easy, no matter how solid new coach Mike Shanahan’s track record might be. And if McNabb thought D.C. was a sanctuary, wait ‘til the tough times come, and even the team’s broadcasters start tossing bombs at him. The good news is that Fat Albert will be a scapegoat for another week or so, before he’s traded away – hopefully to Vladivostok – but then the pressure shifts to McNabb. So, go ahead, folks and make him feel at home. All together now: “BOOOOOO!!!”

No Super Home: Every night, False Face gets under his Cowboys comforter, smoothes out his America’s Team pajamas and prays fervently that his team will play in the Super Bowl next February – in his colossal TV lounge, er, stadium. Ever since NFL fans realized the Big Game was being held in the pleasure dome, there has been much wringing of hands over the concept that the Cowboys could actually play for all the skittles at home. Well, fret not, America. It ain’t happening. In fact, thanks to their shaky O-line, overrated ballcarrier (Marion Barber) and stubborn insistence on keeping Roy Williams around, the Cowboys have as much chance of realizing False Face’s Super dreams as he does of reprising Alistair Cooke’s role as host of Masterpiece Theater. Sorry, FF, it’s another February at home.

Fearless Predictions: Cowboy Quarterback’s streak of playing in every game will be snapped this year, thanks to a cranky ankle and a Geritol deficit…Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis confronts his own mortality, growls at it, snarls at it but ultimately succumbs to it…The Lions won’t stink. Neither will the Raiders. The Bills, however, will…Say good-bye to the following coaches: Mangenius, Jack Del Rio, Lovie Smith and Tom Coughlin…Rookie of the Year: C.J. Spiller, Bills. MVP: Peyton Manning, Colts.

And the Envelope, Please: NFC Division Winners: East – Dallas; North – Green Bay; South – New Orleans; West – San Francisco. Wild Cards – Minnesota, Atlanta. Wild Card Round: Minnesota over San Francisco; Dallas over Atlanta; Divisional Round: Green Bay over New Orleans; Dallas over Minnesota; NFC Championship: Green Bay over Dallas.

AFC Division Winners: East – New England; North – Baltimore; South – Indianapolis; West – San Diego. Wild Cards – New York Jets, Pittsburgh. Wild Card Round: New England over Pittsburgh; Baltimore over Jets; Divisional Round: Indianapolis over New England; San Diego over Baltimore; AFC Championship: Indianapolis over San Diego.
Super Bowl XLV: Indianapolis 27, Green Bay 23.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: The uniforms worn by Boise State and Virginia Tech Monday night made the costumes worn by the teams in “On Any Given Sunday” seem staid. Packer Rick said it best during the game: “I now have to watch Penn State-Alabama Saturday to get this out of my mind.” It will be refreshing to see a pair of teams whose sartorial tastes are nowhere near the nightmare paint favored by the Hokies and Broncos…The NC2A has “reprimanded” and “censured” Princeton for a “major” women’s tennis violation. Sounds about right for the Ivies. No probation here. That’s for the plebeians. If Muffy took some cash from “Uncle” Worthington at the Club, then shame on her, and by all means, admonish, reprove and even scold Old Nassau. Then, it’s off to the veranda for some ginnies…Guess Tony LaRussa isn’t such a genius when his team goes 7-16 and slides out of contention. But at least those great St. Louis fans keep cheering the losses…Back in the late 1980s, when Rumeal Robinson was leading Michigan to the top of the college hoops world, Dookie V used to bleat that the Wolverine guard would be “the CEO of a major corporation some day!” Now, Robinson is facing 30 years in stir for defrauding a bank on a $700,000 loan. Sad…In trouble due to an illness suffered by its bid chief and enduring problems with some cranky farmers, Munich has turned to Katerina Witt to spearhead its campaign for the 2018 Winter Olympics. The former figure skating star may not be able to overcome the German setback, but two things are certain. First, those farmers will fall in line, or they’ll be sent to the Russian front. Two, nobody can touch Witt in the swimsuit competition.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? When the game clock hits zero Sunday, you won’t find Chuck Bednarik sitting on Jim Taylor, making sure the Packers can’t run another play, as happened at the end of the 1960 NFL championship game between the Eagles and Green Bay. More than likely time will expire with a deep knee bend by Packer QB Aaron Rodgers, icing the win for the visitors and ruining the Birds’ nostalgia day. The 2010 opener represents the two stages of NFL rebuilding. Philly is in the early stages of its new identity, while the Pack has developed its personality fully. Rodgers may not throw for 300 yards Sunday, but he will have his moments – and plenty of them. Meanwhile, Kolb will look good at times and lost in other situations. Meanwhile, the Eagle ground game will suffer behind a shaky offensive line that tries to overcome a nasty Green Bay 3-4, and an average secondary will have problems controlling Rodgers, Donald Driver and Co. Don’t push the panic button yet, Eagles fans, but do notice the difference between a maturing contender and a work in progress. Green Bay 24, Eagles 13.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Last week in Atlanta, North Carolina was without 13 players, due to various hints and allegations. Georgia WR A.J. Green is out for three more contests due to off-field shenanigans, and several of his teammates have been arrested over the past year. Michigan awaits its probationary sentence. Missouri dismissed its leading rusher after he was charged with sexual assault. All over the country, schools are compromising themselves by hiring and recruiting people who have no business being part of university communities – all in the pursuit of greater glory and money. Mostly money. The coaches are compromising established standards by searching for advantages anywhere they can and by bringing aboard players with questionable backgrounds and no commitment to their schools, other than on the field. With the competition for dollars so acute, we can’t expect a change in this behavior anytime soon. The only antidote is president-led reform that puts in place stringent standards for coaches and players and keeps the bad actors away from the front door, much less in the house. For a while, this kind of behavior was confined to the so-called “bandit” schools, which operated on the fringes and didn’t care much about their reputations. But when establishment members like Michigan and North Carolina are stung by impropriety, it shows how widespread the trouble is. And it’s time for a change.

-EH-

Whoa, Nellie! It's College Football Time Again

2010-09-02T07:29:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

After an off-season characterized by conference realignment shenanigans and agents’ being described as “pimps” by an on-again, off-again coach, it is great to have some football to watch for a change. There will be plenty of drama, especially once ADs try to search for new coaches before firing their old ones, but at least we can look forward to weekends filled with footballs flying – and perhaps a fully-developed power running attack or two.

The spread offense isn’t exactly in the ICU, but teams are figuring out how to defend it more effectively, meaning we might actually see some offensive linemen who can move forward and – holy smokes! – real, live fullbacks on the field. Let’s not get carried away and expect a return to real football throughout the nation, but the basketball-on-grass crowd has been served notice: The tough guys are coming back.

Here are some of the other storylines worth following throughout the season.

Cheat On: Back in the ‘70s and early ‘80s, USC’s schedule cards used to include the Rose Bowl as the team’s 12th game, and according to most Trojans, their birthright. If ‘SC was paying by the line for this year’s cards, it was able to save some money, because the Men of Troy aren’t going anywhere after their season finale against UCLA. A nasty probationary sentence in the wake of Reggie Bush’s ill-gotten cash and prizes has rocked Southern California, keeping it from a bowl game this year, taking away some scholarships and costing the Trojans star offensive tackle recruit Seantrel Henderson, who left the program after learning of the probation. Making matters worse is the hiring of carpetbagging coach Lane Kiffin, who made zero friends at Tennessee and now has to satisfy a new AD, Pat Haden, who appears to have zero tolerance for tomfoolery, or fools for that matter. All dynasties end eventually, and the USC’s recent era of dominance may be over.

CSI: Ann Arbor: And Chapel Hill. And Columbia. And…well, you get the picture. If the NC2A can rain down serious hellfire down on USC, it means business. So, look out Michigan and North Carolina. Beware half the SEC and South Carolina. Perhaps this is the new age of justice in college athletics. No longer with the folks in Indianapolis just pick on the little guys and let the big-timers get away with more violations than Lindsay Lohan commits. The most disturbing of the latest problems comes from UNC, where it is alleged that several Tar Heel players had papers written for them by a tutor who used to be coach Butch Davis’ nanny. Holy academic fraud, Batman! If this is verified, the alleged culprits might be tossed from school, instead of just banned from their spots on the team. Keep an eye on this one, and pay attention to the NC2A. It might just be coming to a powerhouse near you.

Try, Try Again: Bob Davie couldn’t do it. Ty Willingham couldn’t do it. Heavy C couldn’t do it. But Brian Kelly can, and if you believe the propaganda, he will lift Notre Dame back to a level of prominence enjoyed by Rockne, Leahy and Parseghian. That’s going to be hard without the level of athletic talent found at SEC schools, Texas, Ohio State and other places that have a more cavalier approach to academic portion of the student-athlete concept. Every time ND gets a new coach, we are bombarded with reasons why the Fighting Irish are ready for a return to the national picture. The fact is, the program hasn’t had the players, so they haven’t won the games. Kelly is perfect for South Bend. He’s Irish. He’s arrogant. He’s been successful before. What he isn’t is blessed with a loosening of the admissions requirements. Had that been the case, Pope Urban VI would have taken the gig five years ago. Expect eight wins for the Irish this year. Some creative scheduling down the line could result in a BCS berth. But it will take a serious aligning of the stars for ND to win it all.

Partial Idiocy: The Big Ten’s announcement that it was expanding triggered hysteria that rivaled the runs on banks in 1929. The Big 12 was almost blown apart. The WAC was. Big East administrators started Prozac drips to keep calm amidst reports they would be left with C-USA leftovers and any old Yankee Conference castoffs they could convince to elevate their programs. And the Pac-10 finally realized that the rest of the country doesn’t care about it. There was plenty of craziness to go around, but the worst of it may come later this year, when short-sighted Big Ten money-grubbers decide the best way to align the new, 12-team version of the Western Conference includes splitting Michigan and Ohio State into different divisions. Although they didn’t move their annual game – played on the final Saturday of the regular season for all but one of the last 75 seasons – to October, the division split is an abomination, because it takes the schools out of daily, head-to-head competition against each other. All of this comes because of the possibility that splitting the schools could result in a title game matchup between them that produces an avalanche of cash. First off, there’s no guarantee it will happen regularly. Secondly, it’s an obscene move by greedmongers who have clearly lost sight of college football’s tradition and meaning. Worse, the people in charge at Michigan and Ohio State pushed for it. That’s disgraceful. Splitting Michigan and Ohio State takes away a big part of what made the schools’ rivalry so great, all because there could be a big payoff once in a while in early December. Shame on you.

Be Careful What You Wish For: At this point, it would appear that people who like and approve of the BCS fall into two categories. The first is the “it’s better than what we had” cadre, which employs the same logic as Soviet citizens who felt Brezhnev was “better than” Stalin. The second is filled with blind sycophants, paid mouthpieces (see Hancock, Bill) and the lazy-brained, who blindly support the contrived system. But enough about that. The real story this season has to do with Boise State, which by the virtue of its good fortune from the college football sorting hat, has a chance to play in the BCS championship game next January. If the third-ranked Broncos get past non-conference tests against Virginia Tech and Oregon State, they could well get a shot at the title and strike a blow for the great unwashed in the college football world. Huge responsibility would accompany such an opportunity, since if BSU were to flop, the entire mid-major world would be marginalized and removed from serious BCS consideration. No pressure, fellas.

The Interloper: Okay, so we all knew Jimbo Fisher would eventually replace Bobby Bowden at the helm of the Florida State Bowden built into a national power. But many – Bowden included – thought the takeover wouldn’t happen until 2011. If you believe the latest news, Bowden was offered the opportunity to be a wax replica of his former self for a season while Fisher did all the heavy lifting. The August drama has obscured the fact that Fisher must now revive a program that has teetered over the past decade and craft a new identity that doesn’t include its iconic symbol. The return of QB Christian Ponder should make that job easier, and the Seminoles have already returned to the recruiting trail with a vengeance. But after pledging to stay away from the program and let Fisher work, Bowden has returned. He poses no threat to Fisher, but his willingness to throw bombs at administrators, including school president and former Bowden player T.K. Wetherill, shows that he still wants some influence. Fisher should hope that doesn’t mean questioning a fourth-and-one call against Miami.

The Envelope, Please: One of El Hombre’s favorite memories of his storybook childhood came when Oklahoma kicker Uwe von Schamann nailed a 41-yard field goal in 1977 to give the visiting Sooners a 29-28 win over Ohio State and send Buckeye coach Woody Hayes into a full, abusive froth. Von Schamann and Hayes are long gone from the college football landscape, but expect to see their descendents squaring off for all those BCS marbles (don’t get EH started) next January. Buckeye QB Terrell Pryor showed in last year’s Rose Bowl romp against Oregon’s flag-football defense that he can be extremely dangerous, while the Sooners are ready to roll back with a vengeance after last year’s misery created by Sam Bradford’s injury. When the pads stop popping in Glendale, the Buckeyes will have some overdue revenge, and the Big Ten will have a spot at college football’s big table once again.

* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: If Roger Clemens’ posse of $500/hour mouthpieces can convince a jury to render a “not guilty” verdict in his perjury trial, he may have just paid the highest-ever admission fee to Cooperstown. Then again, it’s one thing to obfuscate, bob and weave in front of a jury and another to convince skeptical Hall of Fame voters that Clemens wasn’t a juicer…Looks like incarcerated Giants wideout Plaxico Burress isn’t playing ball this year, thanks to a judge who shot down his work-release request. Aw, shoot! Oops, maybe that wasn’t the best way to express outrage…Whether it was overwork, poor mechanics or some sort of curse on the woeful Nationals’ franchise, it is a true tragedy that pitcher Stephen Strasburg must undergo Tommy John surgery Friday to repair a torn tendon in his pitching elbow. All serious injuries are sad, but this comes to a player on whom a team and city placed its hopes. Strasburg might rebound and become a dominant pitcher, but it’s unlikely he’ll ever reach his complete potential. That’s a damn shame…Can you name another one-time major sporting event that has lost more luster than the U.S. Open tennis championship? Once a must-see event, it is now populated by a group of largely-anonymous players, all but a handful of whom don’t matter a lick to American audiences. Worse, it takes weekend TV time away from college football. Where have you gone, John McEnroe?

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?: Now that we’re in September, the Phillies must stop talking about how long the season is, how much experience they have and start winning games. Throughout the past five months, whenever the Phils committed unpardonable sins like losing four to the Astros or using Dannys Baez out of the bullpen, they were quick to remind nervous fans and cranky media the season consisted of 162 games, not 16 or even 82. The time for patience is over. The Phillies are three games out of first in the NL East and have yet to demonstrated any sustained consistency at the plate. If this is indeed the team’s time, then we should expect excellent play and no more calls for patience. As the team’s margin for error shrinks, its accountability will rise. It’s time to see if the Phillies are really a championship team, because the long season is getting pretty short.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Throughout the next several days, NFL teams will determine final depth charts and make the difficult decisions about who belongs and doesn’t belong on their teams. It’s an arduous process that always ends in dejection for dozens of hopefuls. Arizona head coach Ken Whisenhunt has already made one player pretty upset when he announced Derek Anderson will be his starting QB when the Cards open the season next weekend. That ran counter to the hopes and dreams of one Matt Leinart, who during his brief NFL career has done nothing to show he belongs as a regular under center in the league, yet somehow thinks he deserves a starting spot. In response to Whisenhunt’s decision, Leinart whined to the media, whined to the coach and generally acted like the kind of petulant child to whom you would never turn over control of your offense. Leinart is inconsistent, doesn’t seem like a particularly hard worker and hasn’t exactly established himself as a leader. And, now, because of his behavior, he could be traded to some garden spot like Buffalo. Hope the tantrum was worth it, Matt.

-EH-

The World Wide Joke

2010-08-20T10:50:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

If the Minnesota Vikings were to represent their true identity this season, they would change their uniforms. Instead of the iconic (although recently updated – and not for the better) purple-and-gold outfits with the white horns on their helmets, they would wear black suits, white shirts, black ties, black shoes, white socks, black hats and sunglasses.

In other words, they would look just like Joliet Jake Blues. After the time the team has spent begging this summer, such a change makes perfect sense. You remember how Jake handled things in that wet, muddy tunnel when Carrie Fisher’s character turned a submachine gun on him and Elwood, don’t you? It is a spectacular example of groveling.

“Oh, please don’t kill us! Please, please don’t kill us! You know I love you, baby. I wouldn’t leave you. It wasn’t my fault.”

That entreaty doesn’t work, much like Vikings’ coach Brad Childress’ attempt to lure Brett Favre to training camp in July was unsuccessful. Although while Mystery Girl calls Jake a “contemptible pig,” Favre just told Childress to go back to Minnesota and try to win with Sage Rosenfels and Tavaris Jackson. Childress might have wished Favre had shot at him instead.

But the Vikings, like Jake, weren’t done. They launched an even more impassioned grovel, sending Jared Allen, Ryan Longwell and Steve Hutchinson on the company plane (an offensive lineman on a Lear?) to Mississippi for the Big Beg.

“Honest, I ran out of gas. I, I had a flat tire. I didn’t have enough money for cab fare. My tux didn’t come back from the cleaners. An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts. IT WASN’T MY FAULT, I SWEAR TO GOD!!”

That one worked – for both Jake and the Vikings. Mystery Girl dropped the gun, and Favre ended his “retirement.” Everybody wins.

Cowboy Quarterback has returned, and that means Minnesota is heading to the Super Bowl, unless of course he makes a crushing error in a big game again. If Favre wants to play, he plays, even if he is a Drama Queen whose incessant made-for-TV waffling is more annoying than Snooki on the beach. (At least he hasn’t been arrested for it.) And if the Vikings are willing to debase themselves by kissing his posterior so blatantly, then they kiss, even though it makes them look desperate.

But there is one principal in this drama that doesn’t deserve a break, and that’s (no surprise) espn. Fresh off its despicable airing of “The Decision,” which cemented once and for all the network’s step away from responsible journalism and into hack show-biz productions, espn went customarily over the top when news “broke” a few weeks ago that Favre was “retiring.” Instead of waiting for full confirmation from the man himself, who would have gladly stepped in front of cameras to weep and talk about how much the game means to him, espn trusted “sources” and went with it as if the story were locked down tight. Rather than showing the necessary cynicism by believing nothing Favre says until it happens – in other words, he’s not retired until he’s 80 – espn went into full-fledged Hall of Fame Mode. For a disgusting day, the network fished the Favre waters until all that remained were the barnacles that clung to other barnacles. Every possible source was called in to glorify Favre. The station’s anchors and reporters did linguistic gymnastics in order to outdo each other about his greatness. Old footage was dusted off. And dusted off again.

Meanwhile, every other real story was given the same attention the WNBA gets (and deserves). It was all Favre, and espn wasn’t going to stop taking chunks out of his carcass until LeBron James spoke again.

There was only one problem: He wasn’t retired.

We learned that earlier this week, after the Three Amigos got done eating at the Hattiesburg Gulp-n-Blow and threatened to use Favre as chum on the lake until he agreed to play again. Instead of showing some restraint, or even apologizing to viewers still shell-shocked from the onslaught in the wake of the QB’s “retirement”, espn went ballistic again. Every expert had a chance to weigh in. Poor Rachel Nichols was dispatched to Minnesota to continue her stalking, er, coverage of Favre. In other words, espn acted like espn.

And that’s the problem here. This is a story, but it’s not the only NFL story out there. And espn’s beating of the Favre horse shows its continued decay. As it becomes more popular and powerful, it becomes less reliable and committed to producing programming with integrity. “The Decision” proved that. The station’s Favre coverage amplified it. Can you imagine what happens Oct. 11, when the Vikings visit the Jets on Monday Night Football, especially if Favre is playing well? espn might well eschew all programming Monday for pre-game coverage. What was once a marvel for sports fans has become a bloated, self-important caricature of its once-lively self. Worse, it has set the new standard for “synergy” and self-promotion that afflicts regional sports networks and other sports web sites.

Favre’s back. espn is, too.

Way back.

* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: So Brigham Young wants to become the LDS version of Notre Dame, a national football program that travels around the country filling stadiums and raking in the BCS dough, does it? Good luck with that. Not even the Irish do that any more. Life as an independent ain’t easy, especially when you aren’t good. Now that’s something ND knows lately…The rule that torpedoed Dustin Johnson’s PGA Championship hopes is arcane. So is golf. Caveat emptor, Baby, especially when the course’s peculiarities are posted on the inside of the bathroom stall. To all of those crying foul, knock it off. He was warned. He messed up. It’s time for people to applaud responsibility (which Johnson showed in his post-tourney comments) and stop craving special treatment. Why, when El Hombre was a boy...In other golf news, Corey Pavin is trying to decide whether to add Eldrick Woods to the Ryder Cup squad with one of his “captain’s picks.” Rory McElroy sure hopes Woods gets the nod, because he – and apparently every other Eurogolfer – wants to play him. Woods’ sycophants say that’s is exactly what he needs to get going again. Hmmm. If four major tourneys couldn’t get him psyched, why should some trash talk? Face it, the guy’s awful right now…Memo to Tim Tebow: It’s one thing to run over a safety from Kentucky on the goal line and another to ram into a pair of the NFL’s grown men. Learn how to slide, Hoss. Soon.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Last year’s Eagles team finished 11-5 without starting middle linebacker Stewart Bradley, without an NFL-caliber free safety, without a pass rush beyond Trent Cole and with an offensive line that struggled more and more each week. It stands to reason that the return of Bradley, the drafting of backliner Nate Allen, the fortification of the DE spot and the expected good health (eventually) of the line should make the Birds a better team. Add to that the ascension of Kevin Kolb to the starting quarterback spot, and the team should improve even more, since if you listen to most of the people weighing in on the subject around Philadelphia, he’s better than that smiling, inaccurate guy who’s down in D.C. So, let’s not hear any of this talk about “giving the kid a chance to settle in” and how it’s “a rebuilding year.” If Eagles fans want to be true to the identity they have crafted over the past 10 years, it’s Super Bowl victory or bust. If the Eagles have made all of these improvements on defense and upgraded the QB position, the team should be better than 11-5, don’t you think? Oh, and by the way, if the Eagles lose – for whatever reason – Kolb gets just as much of the blame as his predecessor did, even if the defense breaks down, the O-line fails to perform or locusts infest the Linc. No double standards now, folks. If the team doesn’t win the Super Bowl, the season is a failure, and it’s Kolb’s fault.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Roger Clemens probably won’t spend any time in stir, even if he is convicted of lying to Congress during his hilarious testimony several years back. It’s even unlikely he’ll be convicted, despite the Feds’ 90% success rate in cases they bring. He’s going to lawyer up like a crime lord, bob and weave, obfuscate at light speed and do everything he can to discredit his accusers. Eventually, Hall of Fame voters will pass down his sentence, and they will look at the government’s evidence and render their own decision. Clemens can’t rely on “reasonable doubt” with that crew. If voters believe the righthander was indeed using steroids and HGH, he won’t get in. Worse, by behaving arrogantly and defiantly – not to mention stupidly with words like “misremembered” – Clemens may have alienated others who would be prone to give him the benefit of the doubt due to his success before the juice era started. Nope, Clemens is in a tough spot here, and even not guilty verdicts on all counts won’t save him if voters believe testimony they’ll hear from Brian McNamee, Andy Pettitte and others. Clemens chose to fight, rather than admit that he used, and now he’s in the highest-stakes competition of his life. No matter what the legal outcome may be, he’ll probably lose in the one place he tried to win in the first place: Cooperstown.

-EH-

(Not-so) Secret Agent Men

2010-07-23T10:22:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Earlier this week, El Hombre had the opportunity to speak to the coach of a prestigious D-I hoops program about various and sundry items, including the current tidal of wave of accusations sweeping the southern football community regarding improper contact (sounds like a Class C sexual assault charge) and payments by agents. Just to show you how much of a biosphere these guys inhabit, he had not heard about the ongoing NC2A investigations and the near-daily revelations of more programs in trouble, despite minute-by-minute updates on the Worldwide Leech’s bottom line that rivaled the drool-soaked dispatches about Dwyane Wade’s Little Brother’s free-agent future.

“LeBron to announce to announce future tonight on ‘Disgrace.’”

“LeBron eats breakfast burrito at Sonic.”

“LeBron pops Prilosec.”

“LeBron takes talents to South Beach”

“NBA greats ridicule LeBron.”

You get the idea. This thing hasn’t exactly been under the radar. Any time you can get Nick Saban to call a group of people “pimps,” it’s big news. So, Said Basketball Coach must be up to his AAU-addled noggin in street agents, crazy uncles and one-and-done-abees, or else he would know about it.

Anyway, earlier this summer, SBC happened to be watching a fine crop of student-athletes playing for the high-character types who operate summer-league teams at something called the “Peach Jam” in Augusta, GA. Next to him was an NC2A executive, whose areas of expertise were “gaming and agents,” which sounds sort of like a course of study at LSU. Anyway, the topic of agents came up, and the NC2A type said that there are actually people inside the Association who believe collegians should be able to have agents.

SBC was dumbfounded, and said something along the lines of “Then, they shouldn’t be employed,” in response, except with a couple of words that rhyme with “truck” and “ducking” sprinkled in. As you might imagine, the thought that players could some day have “representation” is enough to make SBC and his brethren re-think their million-dollar contracts. Okay, maybe they won’t go that far, but there will be a lot more people who look like Jim Boeheim prowling the football and basketball sidelines should that become a reality.

For those of you who don’t spend hours tracking the news and network propaganda that trundles across the bottom of the screen during espn’s programming, here’s a quick recap of what’s going on with all those proud southern football programs. It began late last week with the news that North Carolina had attracted the gumshoes, due to hints and allegations that star defensive tackle Marvin Austin and others may have received cash and prizes – cars, trips, swag – from agents and other unsavories. The NC2A look-see has been characterized as “major,” and if Austin and others are found to have been on the payroll, UNC could find itself in Azkaban. The same goes for South Carolina, Florida, Alabama and Georgia. That’s just for starters. There will be others, count on it.

(An aside: Good news for Michigan fans: Since your heroes have been so poor lately, there’s no chance agents are heading to Ann Arbor with big money and fast rides, so that’s one investigation U-M will dodge.)

As you might imagine, the CEOs of the programs in question aren’t happy. But instead of railing at the NC2A, they’re taking on the agents. Thus, Saban’s “pimps” comment. Things have gotten so bad that we were actually able to see footage of Saban and UF boss Urban VI Meyer standing – albeit uncomfortably – together at SEC Media Day without one trying to plunge a grappling hook into the other’s back.

College coaches are sure to be united about this problem, which is particularly challenging for them, since it’s impossible to keep track of every creepy crawler that slinks onto campus. Believe it or not, Pete Carroll wasn’t at the Omega Psi Phi and Alpha Phi Alpha throwdowns at USC. Nor was he at the Matt Leinart Hot Tub-a-thon. So, it was hard to know with whom his star players were associating, be it Lloyd Lane, Jerry McGuire, Arliss Michaels or any of their intermediaries.

What’s happening is that football players are starting to get agitated about the three-year hitch they’re required to serve before heading to the NFL. They see their basketball counterparts bolting after six months on campus for the pot-o-gold, and they’re jealous. Worse, the basketball savants only have to go to a semester-and-a-half of classes, quite different from two-plus, not to mention all the summer school work to make up for the bad grades in season. So, when someone offers them the keys to a car or a few (thousand) dollars to drop on some Rocawear or Abercrombie apparel, they figure they’re entitled. And since football teams have 22 starters, instead of five, and there are seven rounds in the NFL draft, versus two in the NBA version, there are more targets for aspiring representatives.

There are two things that can be done about this. One is easy for the NC2A. The other will require more finesse. The first involves changing the NC2A rule that allows players to speak with agents, so long as they don’t receive any benefits (meals, transportation, Bentleys). The NC2A has to prohibit players from talking to agents, period. Once contact is made, the door is open. It won’t be easy to track every player’s conversations and movements, but it would be easier for coaches and other administrators to get rid of any agents or their lieutenants who show up on campus. Why else would a runner be in Lawrence, KS, but to speak with a potential client? Once he’s there, he’s banished. And it’s up to the NC2A to put that person on a list that prohibits him from participating in any official event on campus, be it a Pro Day or any kind of showcase workout. It’s not perfect, but it would clear up some of the gray areas.

If the players are found talking to the agents, they are suspended immediately. People forget that these are adults who are warned regularly about which people to avoid.

The second involves the NFL and NBA, which have to start cracking down on agents who give improper benefits. Saban is right on this one. He says anybody found to have provided an improper benefit should lose his certification with the leagues for two years. That might sound harsh, and it would be difficult to do, since the leagues’ players associations govern agent activity, and they’re unlikely to go after the people who negotiate their contracts. But it would help.

Then there is the Big Acquiescence. Let the players have agents. Open it up to all comers. Stop the madness. And, while
we’re at it, let’s just make college sports entirely separate from the institutions they purport to represent. Some athletic programs have already taken steps in that direction with their runaway budgets, lip service to academics and other practices, but this would just about end the old model completely. Hey, if we’re headed in that direction already. Why not finish the job? Let the players have agents. Recruit cheerleaders from strip clubs. And if coaches don’t win? Public executions.

SBC and his brethren would love that. Just imagine their responses when Agent X marches into their office and says, “Coach, we have to talk about my client’s playing time.”

Get ready for more words that rhyme with cluck.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Folks in Miami are trying to come up with a suitable nickname for Dwyane Wade, LeBron James and Chris Bosh. Here’s a suggestion: “Syrup of Ipecac,” because the mere thought of how it all went down induces vomiting… If Eldrick Woods is going to play this poorly for the next several years, expect golf’s ratings to join those of cycling, bowling and Notre Dame football in the Nielsen outhouse. It isn’t unreasonable to think he’s on the downside of a great, possibly Galea-induced, career. That would be catastrophic for the PGA, which has no other bankable starts (Lefty doesn’t win enough) and can’t be happy when South African word jumbles win at St. Andrew’s…Former Raiders QB/Thanksgiving float JaMarcus Russell has pleaded not guilty to charges of illegal drug possession after being arrested under suspicion of having codeine syrup (aka “Purple Drank”) on his person. Russell might walk on those charges, but he still has to deal with the grand larceny accusation stemming from his theft of millions from the Oakland franchise…A federal judge ruled Wednesday that “competitive cheerleading” is not an official sport and can’t be used by colleges to satisfy gender-equity mandates. When asked about the ruling, Florida State cheer captain Muffy Capstone replied, “As if!”…A report out of Mississippi says that Vikings coach Brad Childress did not discuss a deadline with Cowboy Quarterback for when he needs to be in camp. One witness to the discussion between the two men reported the following exchange: Childress – “Pretty, pretty please with sugar on it.” CQ – “Aw, shucks.” Childress – “I’ll be your best friend. I’ll buy you a pony.” CQ – “I just love playing the game.” The saga continues next month. Pass the Big Pink.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Let’s hope the Phillies are paying GM Ruben Amaro a truckload of cash, because every time ownership vetoes another move that would strengthen the team, Amaro has to stand in front of inquiring minds and spin away. No one outside of the Phillies’ brass can be sure if it was Amaro who concocted the “replenish our farm system” defense for the Cliff Lee deal, but that was a doozy. This week, a cranky Amaro has had to stonewall reporters who are tracking down verification the Phils are trying to deal for Roy Oswalt, Dan Haren or the ghost of Walter Johnson. The Oswalt deal looked done, until he asked for the equivalent of Kryptonite for the Phillies’ owners: cash. Now, with a farm system bereft of prospects and some starters for whom there is nearly zero interest around the league (Raul Ibanez = BP stock), Amaro has to fortify a starting rotation that is sagging, beef up a rotten bullpen and try to bolster a mostly-fetid bench. If he pulls any of it off without proper financial support from the Suits Upstairs, he should get a huge raise. If not, he should get some money, too, because the story he’ll have to invent to explain why the deals didn’t get made and to protect his bosses will make the Brothers Grimm look like hacks.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Some training camps opened today, and that means the start of real NFL football is less than two months away. Make sure you enjoy this season, sports fans, because there is going to be a lockout next year, and it’s going to be a long one. Owners want a smaller percentage of revenues devoted to salaries, a longer season, expanded drug testing and a rookie wage scale. Players want money, money and more money. Unlike the last labor negotiations, during which then-commissioner Paul Tagliabue was able to smoke the peace pipe with NFLPA head Gene Upshaw, even though some of the to-the-mattresses owners wanted a hard line, this won’t go smoothly. Roger Goodell is a wartime consigliere to capos like False Face, Dan Snyder and Bob Kraft, and he isn’t looking to compromise. As the pads pop and the concussions start, cherish every minute, because the future is filled with dark clouds.

-EH-

Cheers to El Padre

2010-06-18T11:48:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Even though El Padre grew up in the Kensington section of Philadelphia (“The sport of boxball was invented at the corner of Gaul and Sergeant,” he maintained.), he was an inveterate frontrunner when it came to choosing a rooting interest in sports. His favorite teams were the Yankees, Packers, Celtics and Canadiens. For those of you scoring at home, that’s dynasty, dynasty, dynasty and dynasty. When it came to his partisan allegiances, El Padre wasn’t taking any chances.

Born in 1920, he had the opportunity to witness – sometimes in person, like that famous 0-0 tie between Army and Notre Dame in 1946 or the 1948 Eagles-Cardinals NFL Championship “Snow Ball” – some of the great sporting moments of the early-to-mid-20th Century. He saw Babe Ruth play. And Ty Cobb. He was present for several battles between Wilt and Russ. Even though El Padre was an intellectual at heart and adored the law profession he chose, he would argue (boy, would he argue) sports for hours.

He was also a fount of information. Ask him how some of the current-day ballplayers stacked up against various heroes from the past, and he could break it down, although his verdict almost always came down on the side of the old-timer. And he appreciated the value of seeing events in person. Rare was the time when a request by El Hombre or a Hermano to attend a contest was dismissed. If El Padre could make it, we were there. We usually left the game early, but we were still there. And that’s where this Father’s Day tale begins.

In 1969, baseball celebrated its 100th birthday, at least according to what generally passed as common knowledge. It was a big year for the MLB, since it added two teams to each league and split into divisions. Playoffs would be held for the first time, and little did anybody who followed the sport know, but the Miracle Mets would stun the sports world that fall by winning the World Series.

For a seven-year old beginning what would become a life-long emersion in sports, it was a heady time. The NFL was about to merge. The NHL was two years post-expansion. The NBA was at the end of the remarkable Celtic championship run. (“Ten fingers, eleven rings,” Russell used to say.) John Wooden and UCLA ruled the college basketball world. And college football, like its MLB counterpart, was commemorating its centennial. Of course, seven-year olds don’t pay much attention to that stuff, especially when they’re mesmerized by the wonder of it all.

On Aug. 9, that dream world became a reality, when El Padre took EH and his younger Hermano to their first baseball game. As one might expect from a person who appreciated the history of the game – not to mention one who was a big Yankees fan, even if the ’69 version of the team would finish 22 ½ games out of first place in the newly-minted AL Eastern Division – the setting for this inaugural encounter would be Yankee Stadium. Give El Padre points for understanding the significance of the event. You don’t see your first game at Connie Mack Stadium, where the wretched Phillies butchered the sport in front of tiny, disinterested aggregations. You got to The House That Ruth Built. On Old Timers Day.

So, we boarded the train in Philadelphia (El Padre didn’t drive) and headed north on a sunny Saturday. After pulling into Penn Station, we cabbed it to the ticket agency to collect our box seats for the game. Two things here. First, El Padre never bought a ticket at the box office. In Philadelphia, he used Sherry’s Ticket Agency for everything, and that’s who no doubt helped him procure the ducats for this contest. Second, naïve waif that El Hombre was, he thought our “box” seats actually consigned us to cardboard enclosures. Nonetheless, our arrival in the Bronx was cause for celebration, and EH’s first glimpse of the Stadium’s emerald grass and chocolate infield engendered in him an awe he has rarely encountered since. Our seats were not in boxes, rather between home plate and first base, about 20 rows off the field. In other words, perfect.

The parade of Old Timers was a thrill. Even though El Hombre was a novice in terms of baseball knowledge, names like DiMaggio, Mantle and Musial resonated, thanks to El Padre’s lessons. For someone more seasoned, the roster of stars on hand was indeed impressive. In addition to the aforementioned trio, Whitey Ford, King Kong Keller, Lefty Gomez, Tony Kubek and Moose Skowron were there, wearing pinstripes, while Lou Boudreau, Bob Feller, Robin Roberts and Bobby “The Giants Win The Pennant!” Thomson comprised the heart of the opposition. To top it off, the widows of Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig made appearances and received a thunderous ovation.

The two-inning game featured few highlights and ended in a 0-0 deadlock. The one enduring image was of DiMaggio’s gliding back in center to snare a line drive off the bat of Bobby Doerr. That was a great, one-handed, over-the-head catch, or at least it was until a few years later when El Padre explained that the Yankee Clipper had mistakenly broken in on the ball and had to adjust quickly to preserve his reputation. Still: DiMaggio. Yankee Stadium. Magic.

The Main Event turned out to be a taut one that featured complete games by New York’s Mel Stottlemyre and the A’s Chuck Dobson. The Yankees earned a 2-1 win behind a four-hitter by Stottlemyre, although we were gone by the time the home side pushed across the deciding run in the eighth. But the game’s outcome mattered less than the overall experience. The A’s looked great in their yellow sleeveless jerseys and pants, long-sleeved green undershirts, green stirrup socks and white shoes. The Yankees, of course, were sublime in the pinstripes. The big crowd of 50,945 – the third-largest that season – buzzed throughout the game and gave a young boy plenty to watch. It was a perfect afternoon, right down to the steak dinner in the train’s dining car on the way home. El Hombre has seen countless hundreds of games since then, but nothing compares. Not World Series games, NBA championship series contests, NFL playoff games, Stanley Cup playoff games. Not nothing.

The gold standard was established that Saturday nearly 41 years ago, and El Padre did it. It’s been 10 years since he died, and El Hombre wonders often whether he thanked him enough. For that game and everything else.

Thanks, Papa. Happy Father’s Day. You were the best.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: The refs jobbed the U.S. against Slovenia, but when you fall into a 2-0 hole, courtesy of typical first-half somnolence, you put yourself at the mercy of the arbiters. How about waking up early for next Wednesday’s game against Algeria? The future of soccer in the U.S. might just depend on the game’s outcome…News out of San Diego is that a 12-year old wants to set the record for fastest ascent up Mount Everest without supplemental oxygen. Just kidding. Then again, when parents are letting 16-year olds try to sail around the world, why not let a pre-teen scale the world’s tallest peak? Idiots…The conference carousel stopped early, with only four teams’ changing addresses. But here’s a word of advice to the folks at Baylor, Iowa State, Kansas State, South Florida and other undesirable expansion targets: get a plan together now. More mayhem is on the way…The Yankees are the first Majoke League Baseball team to ban vuvuzelas from the ballpark. The things can be annoying, but they’re certainly no worse than a drunken fan from Staten Island shouting for Jee-tah to get a hit. Talk about a nerve ending.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Be sure to check out El Hombre’s alter ego on Philadelphia Magazine’s “Philly Post” (www.phillymag.com) Monday for an in-depth look at the Sixers’ NBA Draft possibilities next Thursday. It will be interesting to see – and several league execs feel the same way – whether the Sixers draft Evan Turner at number two, and if they do whether the team will keep both him and Andre Iguodala. More than one NBA personnel boss thinks the two players have the same skill set and that Iguodala would be superfluous if Turner were around. Could the Sixers take Turner and dish Iguodala to the Clippers for the eighth pick and a future choice? That would provide tremendous salary cap relief for a team that has $63 million committed for next season. Or, do they keep Iguodala and draft Derrick Favors (El Hombre’s choice), making Thaddeus Young expendable? Thursday’s trade that sent Samuel Dalembert to Sacramento for Spencer Hawes and Andres Nocioni was just the beginning of what should be an interesting week for the Sixers.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: The Lakers’ win over Boston Thursday night brought the franchise’s 16th World Championship and the fifth of Kobe Bryant’s career. Some believe the triumph cements his status as the best player ever to wear the Forum Blue and Gold. It says here that is nonsense. While Bryant is a great player, it’s instructive to remember that his first three titles came as “Little Brother” to Shaquille O’Neal, who earned MVP honors in the Finals from 2000-02. It is also important to remember Bryant’s incredibly selfish play in the years after O’Neal’s departure from the team. It’s also worth noting that there is no way the Lakers blow a 24-point lead at home – as they did in 2008 against Boston – with Magic Johnson on the team or lose a deciding Game Six by a humiliating 39 points, with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar on the floor. Bryant was lauded for “trusting his teammates” during this Finals series, but he didn’t look so confident in them during the first three quarters of Thursday’s game, when he shot a miserable 5-for-20 and tried to bowl through two and three defenders on his way to the hoop. Bryant’s legacy isn’t complete, but to put him ahead of Johnson and Abdul-Jabbar, two of the five best players ever, is absurd. Johnson was the consummate winner and leader who did everything necessary on the court, while Abdul-Jabbar is NBA’s all-time leading scorer and a six-time champ. It took 12 seasons for Bryant to focus on winning; let’s see how he closes out his career before pushing him ahead of Johnson and Abdul-Jabbar (and perhaps Jerry West) in the L.A. Valhalla.

-EH-

Screw Nostalgia

2010-06-11T03:29:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

“At the end of the day, we’re going to make the decision that best serves Nebraska.”
-- Chuck Hassebrook, Nebraska University Regent

Wednesday night, El Hombre happened upon a programming gem on the Big Ten Network, and it distracted his attention from the icy proceedings in Philadelphia and just about every other modern-day sporting pursuit. It was the 1952 football highlight reel, and it included footage of the conference’s nine teams – plus Michigan State, which would join up officially the following season. There, in beautiful black-and-white, with piped-in crowd effects and a classic ‘50s voiceover, were the gridiron exploits of Hopalong Cassady, Alan “The Horse” Ameche and Tom O’Connell. No matter how futile a team’s season was, the announcer assured fans that if the “injury bug” could be avoided, prosperity was nigh. Or that coach So-and-So’s “rebuilding project” was well under way.

It was great to see the offensive sets and the fakes executed by shifty backs. There was even an old-fashioned “Navy” kick that backfired and resulted in a long return. It was a wonderfully wistful half-hour capped by the following poetic sign-off:

“We close another season of great upsets and hard play that make football the favorite fall sport of America’s youth.”

It’s entirely possible that within the next five or 10 years, we may have the opportunity to look back at the 2009 college football season through the same misty eyes. The high-definition video may even seem wonderfully archaic, should the onslaught of 3-D television occur at a pace expected by many in the business. Names like Ingram, Tebow, Suh and Gerhart may be more easily recalled, but the spirit of the game and its essence will be changed.

The tectonic plates of college football – and college athletics on the whole – have already begun shifting. Nebraska will be a Big Ten member. Colorado has already defected to the Pac-10. Texas, Texas A&M, Oklahoma and whatever other schools they deem worthy of inclusion in their big-money club could join the Buffaloes. Or, they may go to the SEC. Or to the English Premier League. The Big 12 is toast. The Big East could be blown to bits as well, replaced by an aggregation of Catholic basketball schools that might be required to begin each game with a “Hail Mary.”

The resulting structure will resemble less the quaint regional aggregations that were built on rivalries and tradition and more like the corporate models that dominate the business landscape. Historic relationships will be replaced by market share. Long-time partners will be torn apart, replaced by marriages of convenience that dilute the soul of the sport.

This is, of course, inevitable. Money is the engine that drives the big-time sporting train, and relationships that produce the most cash are the most valuable. Welcome to the 21st century, folks. Check your nostalgia at the door, and make sure to tune in for that “instant classic” between Texas Tech and Oregon State. In college football heaven, Grantland Rice is crying on Sleepy Jim Crowley’s shoulder.

This isn’t the first time we have had a cataclysm like this. One upheaval began in 1984, when Georgia and Oklahoma successfully sued for possession of the rights to televise their football games, and the College Football Association was born. The resulting loosening of the TV reins brought fans an expanded menu of action that continues to swell today. It was good news for fans who wanted more choices and more opportunities to watch the great sport play out every week. But it had an unintended consequence. No longer were towns like College Station, Ames and Starkville mysterious destinations, tinged with a sense of the romantic, despite their relatively backwater locations. Before ’84, we would receive occasional dispatch from those gridiron outposts but rare was the full glimpse. From that point on, we knew them all too well. That was good news for the denizens of those hamlets and the schools that inhabit them, but for the fans who idealized them, it was something of a disappointment. Illusions were shattered. You mean Iowa State games aren’t all played under gunmetal gray skies with tornado threats posted at halftime? That the cowbell chorus at Mississippi State ends after the game? And that members of Texas A&M’s silent drill team actually speak when they’re not performing?

Throughout the next 25 years, the conference landscape shifted, as schools grabbed for a bigger slice of that TV pie. The SEC stole Arkansas and killed the Southwest Conference, leading some Texans to liken the Razorbacks to Iranian terrorists. (Really.) The Big 12 formed from a marriage between the SWC’s remnants and the mighty Big Eight. The Big East started playing football. The ACC discovered the sport. And Penn State became a Midwestern school. You know the story.

And you knew it was inevitable that it wouldn’t stop there. The mega-conferences are coming, and those who resist change stubbornly as a nod to a rosy past will be left behind like schools in small-time TV markets. Progress continues, and you can either surrender to it or be overrun. When El Hombre was teaching his Young Geniuses this past term in “The Future of Sports Journalism,” he was sure to remind them every class that the business is moving forward, and those who still look at it in terms of an eight-column broadsheet are doomed. So, saddle up and get ready for the Pac-16, or whatever it will be called.

Just don’t expect it all to be as much fun. College football exists now for the money, from the players to the coaches, to the ADs to the hypocritical presidents who spew on about “student-athletes” and how to protect them best. You want to serve your students, Mr. President? Then don’t make your softball team travel from Stillwater to Pullman. For decades, college football was about the wonderful, unique rituals that surrounded the games. Ohio State fans have always thirsted to beat Michigan, but only after the band ran through the script Ohio. Pretty soon the final two words of “The Notre Dame Victory March” will be “registered trademark.”

One of the reasons why the Missouri-Kansas football rivalry was so great was that it was born out of a pre-Civil War dispute between the states over slavery. (Kansas was pro-slavery; Missouri wanted it abolished.) From the minute the schools started playing each other, in 1891, there was a contentious tone. In a few weeks, it’s possible that the game may never be played again. Or, if it is, it won’t come in late November. That’s a shame. And no matter how hard the new leagues and their TV partners try to sell the new matchup, an Oklahoma State-Arizona clash born out of greed won’t have the same impact as a game that emerged from seething border hostilities during one our country’s most dire periods.

College football is changing, and fans and media had better get on board. Just don’t expect things to be nearly as good or as much fun.

Meanwhile, keep an eye out for those old-fashioned TV programs. They help ease the pain.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: The good news for Nationals prodigy Stephen Strasburg is that he gets one more Class AAA start – Sunday against the Cleveland Indians – before he has to face big-league hitters…Pig Pen Roethlisberger wants fans to know that he apologizes to them for being “immature,” “young” and “dumb.” How about being a felon (allegedly), forcing himself on women (allegedly) and being a scumbag (definitely)? The Steelers’ QB apologized to the fans and his family, but not to either of the women (if there were only two) who accused him of forcing himself on them. Unfortunately, since Pig Pen is following the Mea Culpa Playbook to perfection, all will be forgiven soon. Of course his (alleged) victims will never forget…The LeBron James soap opera continues to spin wildly, even though no one is allowed to speak with the underachieving Cavaliers’ forward officially until July 1. Teams continue to jockey for position in the competition for his services, and the Cavs are trying to find a coach that will make him happy. What he really needs is someone who will help him grow up (that means no more pre-game skits and choreographed dance routines during timeouts) and force him to learn how to shoot a jump shot. That will be worth more to him than even the biggest contract…Let’s give it up for Pete Carroll, who was able to skip town before the NC2A gumshoes laid down the smack on his USC program for not preventing Reggie Bush from accepting cash and prizes from an agent. The Trojans will lose up to 30 scholarships, miss out on bowl games for two seasons and forfeit games from the ’04 and (probably) ’05 seasons. The only justice is that former Carroll lieutenant Lane Kiffin, who was present during the shenanigans, is forced to pick up the pieces. ‘SC cheated, because school officials knew what Bush was doing and will now pay a severe price. Good.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The best thing to come out of the Flyers’ thrilling Stanley Cup near-miss was the attitude of Philadelphia fans, who actually appreciated the team’s success, despite the disappointing outcome. For once, the zero-sum game that has been sold to the area’s denizens was abandoned in favor of the joy of rooting for a team and not focusing merely on the outcome. Yes, the run to the final round was not expected, and that made fans less prone to demanding a championship or else. The resulting good feelings and desire to celebrate the Flyers’ accomplishments was truly refreshing. Unfortunately, the happy mood won’t last. The Phillies and Eagles are different than their underdog counterparts and won’t receive free passes. They shouldn’t. Unlike the Flyers, whose post-season run came out of nowhere, the Phils and Eagles have sold us championship dreams and must therefore be judged their relative success. As for the Sixers, a three-game winning streak would almost warrant a parade.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: It has almost become a cliché for Americans to regard soccer as a 90-minute sleep aid. Anybody who favors the sport is weak, bland and – worse – French. But the World Cup is different. You may not have an interest in an MLS matchup between FC Topeka and Real Bayonne (although the Philadelphia Union is worth checking out), but a slugfest between a pair of historical rivals is a different story. When Croatia beat Germany, 3-0, in the ’98 World Cup, it wasn’t just an athletic triumph, it was also an historic verdict for a country that had spent time under Nazi oppression and destruction during WWII. Every victory doesn’t have the same significance, but the combination of the sport’s best players and a heavy dose of nationalism makes the World Cup compelling theater, even if the game ends 1-0. Enjoy the artistry. Experience the passion. And don’t worry; we won’t tell the NFL you were watching. As for the tournament itself, figure the final four to be Brazil, England, Argentina and Spain, with the Samba stars facing off against the Spaniards for all the marbles. Advantage: Brazil. Looking for a dark horse? Try the Italians (14:1), who always do better when less is expected of them.

-EH-

Grow a Spine, Bud

2010-06-04T07:14:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Back in 1948, when the world was a simpler place – unless you were a Soviet citizen under the iron rule of Joe Stalin – the patron saint of columnists, bloggers and Tweeters, Walter Wellesley “Red” Smith, wrote a piece that remains one of the finest examples of the craft. Smith, who at one point wrote seven columns a week so that he had the immediate opportunity to overcome a lousy effort, was in London for the Summer Olympics. During that fortnight, some controversy emerged in the 400-meter relay, which resulted in considerable upheaval and ire from the American side.

It seems the U.S. quartet had been disqualified after winning by about seven yards because of an allegedly illicit baton pass. Or, as Smith so eloquently dubbed it, Barney Ewell had “bootlegged the baton to [Lorenzo] Wright in a sinister black-market deal consummated outside the legal zone.” The officials, or in Smith’s parlance, the “vigilante committee of judges,” had DQed the Americans and awarded the gold medal to homestanding England, which had finished second. The decision, according to Smith, meant that “the Union Jack flapped from the victor’s flagpole; the British Lion looked up from his lunch of cold mutton and cheese and roared his triumph to the skies.”

Ah, they don’t write ‘em like that anymore.

Anyway, the next day, the International Jury of Appeal looked at photographs from something called a “stereopticon machine” and decided “the baton-snatch had been engineered in strict obedience to the laws of God and man.” So, the Americans were re-awarded the gold medal, and all was right in the sprinting world. That led Smith to write one of the best lead paragraphs in history:

“And now, the Royal Air Force band must return to the desolate, forsaken field of Wembley Stadium and unplay “God Save the King.” Blighty’s only track victory in the Olympics, which was presented to Britain last Saturday under the Marshall Plan, fell under the terms of reverse lend-lease today and was restored to the United States, the original copyright holders. It was the most sensational reversal since Serutan.”

That early use of “instant” replay helped right a wrong that would have cost four champion sprinters a gold medal in the most important race of their lives. Thanks to the stereopticon machine, Ewell, Wright, Harrison Dillard and Mel Patton had their prize and their immortality. And Smith had one helluva column.

Wednesday in Detroit, Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga was denied a perfect game by Jim Joyce, a one-man “vigilante committee,” who spectacularly botched a relatively routine call at first base with two outs in the bottom of the ninth of Galarraga’s masterpiece. It was the baseball equivalent of flying to Paris, heading over to the Louvre and adding a tramp stamp to the Venus de Milo. Galarraga had been flawless, and Joyce’s call had robbed him of immortality. He will join baseball’s long list of almosts and will be enshrined in future “Strange But True” tomes for decades, next to Eddie Gaedel and Cleon Jones’ well-shined shoes.

This tragic turn of events most certainly could have been avoided, had Majoke League Baseball commissioner Bud Sellout shown some leadership a few years ago and instituted an instant-replay program that was committed to getting it right. That’s the goal here, not to show up umpires or add minutes to the game. It’s to get the call right.

In football, basketball and hockey, replay exists to make sure the game’s outcome is as legitimate and correct as possible.
If an NFL receiver catches the ball with one foot in bounds, and it is clear to anybody watching on TV, chances are a protest flag will be thrown, and the replay official will be sure to ascertain whether the catch was legitimate. If a goal/no goal call looks shaky in the NHL – as it did twice in Wednesday’s Stanley Cup game, the replays are examined, and the right call is made. Fans and players rarely complain about the replays’ outcomes, because their goal is to have justice served. Having that safety net allows for greater peace of mind, since everybody in the stadium and watching at home understands that the right call is the goal – and usually the outcome.

Now, it’s up to Sellout to do the right thing. Had he been courageous enough a few years ago to understand that the game’s credibility is at stake when umpires blow easy calls and there is no mechanism in place to reverse that, he might have acted. The Galarraga debacle brings the entire situation to a nasty, pus-filled head, and it’s up to Sellout to make sure it doesn’t pop all over the game’s good name – or what’s left of it. So, Buddy Boy, here’s what you do:

1. Replay for all close plays at bases and the plate. A quick replay review confirms or reverses the call.

2. Replay for foul-fair calls down the lines.

3. Leave balls and strikes alone. That would get ridiculous.

4. NO reversal of Joyce’s botched call. Sellout actually got this one right. Changing the decision, no matter how crushing and embarrassing it was, would open the door to a whole slew of future appeals.

Sellout must show some grit and push this through now. Otherwise, more debacles will occur, and baseball will continue to look silly and helmless in comparison to its sporting brethren.

And with no Red Smith around to clarify things, the mess will only get worse.

“Dog evas eht gnik…?”

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: It’s too early to give the Lakers the NBA title, but if Pau Gasoft and Andrew Crynum are going to play like they did in game one, the Celtics don’t have much of a chance. Boston’s edge in ’08 was toughness, and it looks like L.A. has decided to match the Celtics’ bravado this time. Imagine that. If the brass knuckles stay out Sunday night, this baby’s over…The International Ski Federation has fined Russia and warned the country that further doping activity could result in Russian skiers’’ being banned from the ’14 Olympics in Sochi. The Russians countered that the allegations are false and offered the country’s putrid performance during last February’s Vancouver Games as evidence of their innocence. It’s a pretty strong argument…Ice Box checks in as the early favorite in Saturday’s Belmont Stakes at 3:1, followed by Fly Down, at 9:2. Among the long shots are Glue Factory (75:1) and Dog Food (100:1). Remember to bet with your head, not over it…Steelers’ QB Ben Roethlisberger spoke to the media after a practice Thursday and pledged to improve his behavior. He said he would change the way he regarded women, so when carrying a tray full of liquor, he will now say, “All you fine, upstanding ladies, take my shots.” He will also allow other patrons to use the ladies room while he is mauling a Young Lovely, rather than blocking their entry with an off-duty policeman. And when he is being questioned by a police officer after a night of carousing, he will no longer pose for pictures. Sounds great, Ben. You keep up the soul-searching.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Let’s be very clear about one thing: The Phillies’ ridiculously inept play of late (save Roy Halladay’s historic gem) is the fault of many people, from the top down. Start with the owners, whose insistence on a self-imposed salary cap resulted in a lame, cut-rate bench. Move on to GM Ruben Amaro, who assembled said bench and was the bagman in the Cliff Lee trade that weakened the pitching staff. Don’t forget manager Charlie Manuel, whose laissez-faire approach to managing has helped foster the complacency that has overcome the team. And, finally, blame the players themselves, especially the veterans, who have provided zero leadership during the crisis. No one has called a players-only meeting. No one criticized pitcher Cole Hamels for laughing it up at the Flyers game Wednesday night, just one day after he lasted a whopping two-thirds of an inning against the Braves and was clearly unprepared to pitch following a rain delay. This team felt the NL crown was its birthright before the season and has played like it with few exceptions. The good news is that this is a long season, and there is plenty of time for a turnaround. But it’s imperative the organization develops a sense of urgency and starts to hold people accountable while realizing that it may be necessary to shake things up with a trade or two.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: The onus during the aftermath of the Galarraga/Joyce debacle falls on Sellout, but the behavior by the two main protagonists during the incident should live on even longer than any action by the spineless MLB commissioner. Both pitcher and umpire displayed the kind of class, grace, sportsmanship and character that is often missing from professional athletics. Galarraga’s willingness to forgive, despite being deprived of a spot in baseball history, was exemplary and gave parents, teachers and coaches an opportunity to show children how to do things the right way. Joyce’s immediate contrition, apology and acceptance of blame – without condition or excuse – is another teaching point. Both men showed tremendous respect for the sport, fans and themselves with their actions, and they are to be applauded. It would be a sin if this incident did not lead to true reform, especially since Galarraga and Joyce acquitted themselves so admirably during a time of great stress.

* * *

ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Last year on June 6, El Hombre made it a point to call his father-in-law, the late, great Bill Grant, to thank him for being part of the Allied forces who landed at Normandy on D-Day. Bill’s courage and that of tens of thousands like him helped free countless millions from Nazi oppression and served as a shining moment for The Greatest Generation. This Sunday, be sure to think of Bill and the rest of the D-Day crew, and if you know someone who participated in the landing or even World War II, be sure to offer thanks. We owe them a lot.

-EH-

Braving the Elements

2010-05-28T10:27:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Packer Rick is in heaven these days, and not just because his beloved Green Bay club is on the rise or his mighty fifth-grade lacrosse club overwhelmed all comers during the recent season.

From his command center in the nearly-legendary Pack Den, Packer Rick keeps a watchful eye on the sports world’s traditions. The Den’s walls are covered – and El Hombre means covered – with framed photographs of history’s heroes, athletic, military and political. He even has a still of Erwin Rommel, Germany’s “Desert Fox.” “He hated Hitler,” Packer Rick says, justifying the famous tank commander’s presence with the other luminaries. Of course, he also has a photo of Gen. George Patton – “He stares at Rommel, on the opposite wall, of course” – and won’t hesitate to recount the line attributed to “Old Blood and Guts” in his marvelous biopic: “Rommel, you magnificent bastard! I read your book!”

At any given time, Packer Rick could be screening some old AFL footage or a 1970s NFL playoff game. He might be holding forth on the virtues of high school football’s inherent value for building character and lifelong bonds between comrades and combatants. And, if it’s mid-December, he’s likely to be nailing up another butt of the family Christmas tree on the eave overhanging his bar. He’s up to about 17 now, and seeing them lined up is a quite a sight.

Earlier this week, Packer Rick received an unexpected gift from the NFL owners when they announced the 2014 Super Bowl would be held in the swamps of Jersey. For someone who still turns on the TV every Sunday rooting for a snowstorm or rain deluge and thinks domes are the devil’s work, a championship game played in arctic conditions with swirling snow and ice-encrusted spectators would be a gift from the football gods. Or from Vince Lombardi. He can only imagine what NFL Films would be able to do with such a canvas. Forget the game action; Packer Rick wants shots of behemoth linemen exhaling steam and icicles clinging to the goalposts.

But what excites Packer Rick even more is that the announcement paves the way for future cold-weather Super Bowls, including one in Green Bay. “It lets me put my “50th year anniversary of the Ice Bowl” 2017 Super Bowl at 1265 Lombardi Avenue petition into action,” he says, laughing. Don’t bet against him. He’ll have 10,000 signatures before you can say, “Run to Daylight.”

There has been much sturm und drang about the league’s decision to bestow its Big Game upon the New York metropolitan area. Players say how much they hate toiling in cold weather, as if anybody but Canadians embraces it. We hear horror stories about what would happen if it snowed (people would wear boots), although the biggest snowfall in NYC history on the date of this year’s Super Bowl was three inches. And we hear how horrible it will be for fans traveling to the big game who will have to endure cold temperatures as they take part in the festivities. It may not be the beach, but if you can’t find something to do in Manhattan, regardless of the weather, you are about as much fun as a Congressional hearing.

Football is the ultimate tough-guy game (although if hockey players keep losing multiple teeth and returning to action 10 minutes later, we may have to re-think that), so anyone who complains about playing in 30-degree temperatures must be a baseball player – or a wide re-diva. There have been scores of important games played during the NFL’s history in less than ideal conditions. Packer Rick’s beloved Ice Bowl is the most famous, but from the New York Giants’ 1934 NFL championship win over the Bears on the Polo Grounds’ frozen turf (Giants’ coach Steve Owen outfitted his charges in sneakers at halftime, and they pulled away after intermission) through the Steelers’ snow-speckled triumph over the Ravens in the ’09 AFC title game, the elements have played a big role in professional football. Staging a Super Bowl in a climate that could be less than ideal returns the sport to its roots and creates a great stage.

Ask anybody who played pickup football on a snow-covered field how much fun that can be. Ask anybody who has watched a snowy game on television if they enjoyed the experience, and the nearly-unanimous answer will be “Yes!” As for those fans who will have to brave the elements to watch the league’s best battle, remember this old Siberian adage: “There is no such thing as weather too cold, just inadequate clothing.” In other words, bundle up. Then bundle up some more. You’ll be fine.

Finally, a bit of advice for those who think cold weather will inhibit the ability to have fun in New York. Last Super Bowl weekend, El Hombre and La Mujer bivouacked at the Waldorf-Astoria. We visited the Museum of Modern Art, caught a play on Broadway, had some dynamite Mexican food, attended Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral and had a great brunch with family from the 44th floor of an apartment building with a spectacular view. Aside from the $55 glass of whisky a flighty Scotsman made EH finance, the weekend was perfect. By the way, the temperature that weekend hovered in the 20s, with a brutal wind-chill. We hardly remember the climate, just the fun.

So, hats off to the NFL for putting the Super Bowl in New York/Jersey. Let it be a gateway to other cold-weather hosts. And should the game be played in conditions better suited for ice fishing, remember another old Russian proverb: “If it’s cold in February, summer will be pleasant.”

And should you see Packer Rick, sign his petition. We have to get the ’17 game at Lambeau.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Michigan has penalized itself for exceeding the number of practice and workout hours allowed by the NC2A. In addition to some future limits on field time and the firing of an employee involved in the scandal, the school has also forced all coaches and administrators to watch every minute of game action from the past two seasons, when coach Rich Ro-riguez’s (no D) teams went a combined 8-16. Talk about your draconian punishments…Good news for Sammy Sosa: The Congressional committee investigating baseball’s steroids addiction won’t investigate him. Seems it was too hard to find an interpreter to work with Sosa, who vacillates between speaking English just fine during clubhouse interviews and being unable to say a word while under oath…Speaking of illegal performance-enhancing drugs, El Hombre is certain that it’s just a coincidence that Dr. Anthony Galea, whom Eldrick Woods sought out for treatment, also worked with A-Fraud and other known juicers. Woods just went to Galea for therapeutic reasons. Right. And soccer star Cristiano Ronaldo is dating Kim Kardashian for her mind…In other soccer news, England’s Trade Union Council has requested that employers allow workers to watch games involving the national team during the upcoming World Cup. Benefits include a happier workforce and limited “sick-outs” on game days. Companies who participate are being encouraged to create “hooligan zones,” where drunken workers can destroy property and beat the tar out of other ethnic groups…It’s early. It probably won’t happen. But wouldn’t it be magical if the Celtics joined the Broons in a double Beantown choke?

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? So, here are the Flyers, the scrappiest team in all of sports, getting ready to tangle with the mighty Blackhawks. Chicago piled up more points during the regular season. It has a deeper defense and more scorers. It plays in the stronger Western Conference. Everything points to a Blackhawks series victory – except history. While it has been 35 years since the Flyers hoisted the Cup, Chicago is in the midst of a 49-year drought. Further, by overcoming a 3-0 deficit against the Broons and smashing Montreal, a now-healthy Flyers team has gained tremendous confidence and has proven it can win anywhere. Yes, the Blackhawks have been dynamite on the road, and that Dustin Byfuglien character is a beast. If Philadelphia continues to play rugged hockey and doesn’t take a bunch of stupid penalties, and if goalie Michael Leighton keeps the magic dust on his shoulders, the Flyers can win. In fact, the Flyers will win. In six. Batten down the hatches. This will be a wild celebration.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Some time in the next few weeks, LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh and Joe Johnson will sit down to discuss their respective free agent futures. Consider it the professional basketball equivalent of the Potsdam conference, which led to the redesign of Europe’s borders after WWII. Or, if you wish, you can liken it to the final scene of “Mobsters,” when Lucky Luciano, Meyer Lansky and the boys divide up the country into crime fiefdoms. The four ballers – and anybody else they decide worthy of inclusion – will basically do the same thing with the NBA. They’ll discuss the pros and cons of various franchises, figure who should play where and try to maximize their earning potential. When the owners do this, it’s “collusion.” When star players get together to cut such deals, it’s “business.” If the meeting yields the outcome El Hombre thinks it will, the league will be officially at the mercy of its players, who will have established a new competitive balance based on their own whims and personal interests. This is an unprecedented move in professional sports history, and it demonstrates exactly why the product we are watching – and in many instances paying dearly to see – lacks the same allure and competitive drama as its predecessors did. If players are getting together with the idea of dispersing themselves or, in some cases, banding together, then pro basketball has no chance of establishing future rivalries with real teeth. Instead, it will have the feel of a cartel, in which the participants work together for greater financial aid for the whole. The superstar sit-down is a compelling concept, but it is bad for basketball. For the NBA’s sake, let’s hope the outcome doesn’t produce a disaster.

-EH-

Trophies All Around

2010-04-30T07:50:00.001-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

It is a sad day indeed when the new mentality of rewarding every single youth sports participant, regardless of talent level or proclivity for chasing butterflies, has made its way onto the college sports agenda, but that’s what happened this week. The news that the already-bloated bowl schedule will swell by another game (by virtue of a two-for-one switch) and perhaps allow teams that have finished the regular season with a 5-7 record is grim indeed.

There is no guarantee that such mediocrity will be celebrated with a trip to the Cialis Bowl, but should the number (now 70) of eligible teams boasting at least a robust 6-6 record lag, then teams that barely win 40% of their games get to spend a week during the holidays in Shreveport, Fort Worth or Bayonne. Why not replicate the practice of most community sports programs and give every player on a I-A team a medal or trophy, the better to boost his self-esteem? In the words of the immortal Vince Lombardi, “What the hell is going on out here?”

You don’t have to be so old to remember when a 10-0-1 Michigan team (yes, chilluns, there was a time when the Wolverines were good) was home for the holidays back in ’73. Or when six wins would lead to a coach’s demise and the promise to fans of bigger things in the future. Today, 10-0-1 brings in about $17 mil, and six triumphs earn a winter vacation and a bag of loot for happy players. Since 1996, the number of bowls has almost doubled, moving from 18 to 35. Meanwhile, the impact of those games, except for the BCS “championship” game, has lessened greatly. Part of it is the old supply-and-demand game. The more of anything there is, the less it is worth, a maxim that has only beer and Victoria’s Secret models as its exception. The rest is that even the most brainwashed fans couldn’t possibly consider a 6-6 season successful, no matter how hard the school, the bowl and its propaganda partners try to convince them otherwise.

So, when news that a 5-7 team or two could slide into the post-season broke, it was installed as a new alternative to syrup of ipecac. But compared to what’s going on in the rest of the NC2A, it’s sort of small potatoes. News came this week that former University of Washington president Mark Emmert had taken over the organization and was charged with sticking it to student-athletes for at least the next five years. While Emmert tries to sidestep his previous declaration that a college football playoff was “inevitable” with doublespeak that would make a Soviet premier envious and continue efforts on academic reform (good luck), he also has some big decisions to make regarding the so-called “minor” sports that take place away from the headlines.

A 2008 study by the NC2A reported that only 17 of the more than 300 Division I athletic programs made a profit between 2004-06. That’s 5.6%. Although that number “swelled” to 25 in 2007-08, according to the NC2A, the vast majority of schools are depending on state and institution cash to keep the balls bouncing. In 2008, 30% of Division I funding came from outside sources. At a time when schools are cutting programs and staff members, the athletic departments are gobbling up much-needed dough.

While it’s too early to know how Emmert plans on dealing with this problem – if he addresses it at all – there are those who worry that the way to handle the shortfall is to limit the smaller sports, rather than forcing some restrictions on football and men’s basketball teams. For instance, some teams could be forced to play tightly regionalized schedules and not travel to championship competitions, the better to keep costs down. Others may have to cut scholarships or program participants.

The same argument rears up every time this topic is raised. It’s from the football/basketball crowd that says so long as their programs are bringing in the big bucks, they should be left alone, even if that means putting up the home team in a hotel the night before a game or running a year-round program. They make the bucks, so they should spend the bucks.

There are two ways to look at that. First, if it’s all about money, and those schools that are profitable should be able to do what they want, then the 28% of I-A schools that were running a deficit, according to a 2006 study, should be shut down. And if any other school starts losing money from football, it must be terminated.

The second is philosophical, and it gets to the root of the raging hypocrisy that has infected college presidents, who hide behind their “concern” for student-athletes when discussing why a college football playoff won’t work (all the while approving a 12th game earlier this decade). If the goal of the university is to educate and serve its entire population, then it must operate that way and make sure every student and athlete is treated similarly. If it wants to operate a giant athletic superpower, that’s fine, too, but don’t try to make us think one of the goals of the Tennessee football program is to prepare its players for life after football. Its goal is to win games, fill Neyland Stadium and make sure the cash register plays “Rocky Top” every second of the day.

The football world is doing a great job taking care of its own. Facilities continue to rise from the ground. Coaches’ salaries are out of control. And teams that lose more than half of their games will soon be celebrating bowl berths. As Emmert takes over in Indianapolis, let’s hope he has an eye on the other people who play college sports.

They deserve trophies, too.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Five Majoke League Baseball teams – and the Orioles – have already logged record low attendances for their ballparks this season. Overall, baseball attendance is down two years running. So, what’s an overpaid, drug-enabling commissioner to do? Well, Mr. Sellout, your sport doesn’t have a test yet for HGH. Remember, chicks dig the long ball…Chris Berman re-signed with espn, in the hopes that he might be able to stutter his way through an Olympic hosting gig in 2014. Did you see him stumble around the NFL Draft last weekend? Talk about losing your fastball. This guy makes Jamie Moyer look like Bob Feller…Great job by the Capitals in the NHL playoffs. Choking away a 3-1 series lead to the eight seed and making a guy who finished ninth in goals against average look like Jacques Plante, Ken Dryden and Patrick Roy combined is awful. Nice job, Alex Ovechkin. No Olympic gold. No Stanley Cup playoff win. You’re a real superstar…There’s a rumor out there that Coach Zen might take his Yanni CDs and head to Jersey to coach. It’ll never happen – unless LeBron James intends to sign with the Nets. Ol’ Zen doesn’t do rebuilding projects. He needs at least one Hall of Famer on the roster to consider a job…China has been stripped of a gymnastics medal it won during the Sydney Olympics for using a 14-year old (no one younger than 16 may compete) during the Games. Now, that’s a shocker. Anybody who watched the Chinese team compete in Beijing in 2008 knows the country was falsifying the ages of many competitors. Officials were tipped off when the Chinese gymnasts’ ID cards had “authentic” Chairman Mao signatures on them and also when they saw that the team was sponsored by Dora The Explorer.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Philadelphia media are in quite a lather over whether the Sixers will turn back to Larry Brown to solve their problems. Visions of 2001 dance through their heads, and Mr. Ed no doubt has the same fantasies. While the idea of a Sixers roster that includes 37-year old Theo Ratliff and the joyous reunion of George Lynch and Tyrone Hill is certainly a great tool for the ticket sales staff, it’s not certain those geezers will recreate the magic they did when Brown’s team worked its way through a weak Eastern Conference to the Finals. Brown is just about at the end of his line, and though he led the Bobcats to the playoffs this year, they were dispatched quickly by Orlando and made the post-season only because the East stinks. Brown’s return will no doubt come with the unsavory baggage that he will be picking the players, meaning anybody younger than 30 will be looked at with a jaundiced (and pre-cataract) eye. It also could signal the return of one William King to the ceremonial GM chair, a bad idea if he is Brown’s phone-call man and a nightmare if he actually has authority to make deals. What the Sixers need is new ownership. They need someone to hire a sharp personnel man who will in turn employ a successful coach. This is not the time for re-runs. The Sixers need some fresh ideas, not nostalgia acts.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: The NC2A actually did something reasonably correct this week when it announced it would be expanding the men’s basketball tourney to 68 teams, rather than a ridiculous 96, as was originally feared. It’s a good news/bad news/good news situation. The first bit of good news is that the 13th-place Big East team won’t be qualifying for the tournament next year. The bad news is that three more small-conference teams won’t make it to the official start of the Madness, since they’ll likely be playing “pigtail” games in Dayton or Ames earlier in the week and upon losing will be sent home without experiencing the true essence of the tournament. Meanwhile, three other big-time schools who don’t belong in the real post-season (have fun in the CBI, NIT, etc.) will get the chance to dance. But the accompanying report that the CBS/Turner bid to broadcast the event for the next 14 years trumped espn’s best offer means we won’t have to hear Dookie V gabbling throughout the tournament. By the time the new contract expires, he’ll be 85 and will bring new meaning to the term “Diaper Dandy.”

-EH-

MLB 2010 Spectacular

2010-04-02T12:23:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Talk about your dream off-season for Bud Sellout and the rest of the MLB moneychangers. After several winters of navigating so many drug issues that the annual hot-stove discussion sounded like the health-care debate, there was relative peace and quiet. Some might say that was a result of so many controversies in previous years, but when your only pharmaceutical concerns arise from the return of an old-school pincushion and the one-time(!) cocaine use by one of your managers, it’s a win.

Another couple years like this, and Sellout will be able to launch his Hall of Fame candidacy without concern – or conscience. After 15-plus seasons, the only talk of juice these days is of the tobacco variety. That means the 2010 campaign could well be devoid of discussion about performance-enhancing drugs, largely since most of the big-name users have been outed, and the market for giant-headed bacne-d sluggers like BALCO Bonds has dried up. While the NBA deals with the pistoleros, the NFL tries to figure a way to keep the Steelers from running wild (allegedly) in nightclubs, and the NHL hopes the Olympics will generate interest in a late season Blue Jackets-Preds game (good luck with that), baseball is in pretty good shape. That means we get to – mostly – focus on the sport, at least for now.

Big Spenders: For the previous few decades, the definition of extravagance in Minnesota was using Hefty bags for the outfield wall in the Homerdome, rather than the generic stuff. That all changed last week when the Twins went deep financially and signed catcher/hometown hero/golden boy Joe Mauer to a Brobdingnagian contract. Since the Twins are moving into a new, outdoor stadium that should have fans considering P.E.D.s just to get through an April night game, they have plenty of extra cheddar on hand. Thus the big deal for Mauer, which should keep the catcher around until he’s ready for knee replacements. The only problem now is that future Minnesota standouts are going to expect similarly generous treatment and not be content with a below-market contract and a couple coupons for Juicy Lucy burgers.

Divorce (Mc)Court: How ‘bout all those off-season additions for the Dodgers?! Let’s see, there was second baseman Jamey Carroll. And don’t forget Jamey Carroll. That’s what happens when your owner and his wife are trying to decide who gets custody of the dugout stash of sunflower seeds. It’s an ugly, high-profile split between Frank and Jamie McCourt that has gone so crazy Frank won’t even let his estranged wife get into Dodger Stadium to clean out her office. Think he wants to spend a lot of dough on free agents? If this thing drags on, it could become like “Major League,” with the players flying on a WWII-issue twin-prop and the hot water turned off in the clubhouse. At least the Dodger Dogs still taste good.

The Natural: He stands 6-4, weighs 220 pounds and when his bat meets the ball, the resulting sound registers on seismographs. Atlanta’s Jason Heyward went from off-season prospect to Opening Day starter by hitting the ball so long and far that even an old dinosaur like Bobby Cox was impressed. One Heyward homer caused $3,400 of damage on a front office employee’s car. In fact, the mighty lefty hit so many out during the spring the Braves were forced to put netting over the rightfield fence to protect cars, innocent bystanders and native wildlife. He may struggle at first with the rigors of a 162-game season, but when he hits ‘em, they stay hit.

Return of the Empire: Darth Vader makes very few public appearances these days, but the Yankee Empire returned to power last November with the usual formula of high-priced talent and arrogance. The payroll is down a little this year, as funds were diverted to construction of a 21st century Death Star, but that doesn’t mean the Yanks aren’t still dangerous and heartless. Expect another run at the title in the Bronx as a lovable collection of gritty All-Stars wins the affection of fans with its diverse portfolios and tax shelters. And make sure to tune in to the 39 nationally televised games between the Yanks and Red Sawx, as we spend six months hearing about the “greatest rivalry since Rome and Carthage.”

Big Mac, Hold the ‘Roids: Mark McGwire finally ended his self-imposed exile and returned to baseball as the hitting coach for the St. Louis Cardinals. Along the way, he “admitted” to using steroids, HGH and vitamin water – but only to recover from injury. Nope, Big Mac never dreamed that the stuff would turn him into a mid-‘90s Popeye and allow him to hit baseballs so far they reach the ionosphere. Turns out there is a new side effect to the juice: delusion. McGwire hopes his time with the Cards convinces people he should be in the Hall of Fame, or at least 30% of the voters should include him on their ballots, instead of 25%. Meanwhile, Texas Rangers manager Ron Washington is still gainfully employed, after news leaked out that he was using cocaine. Talk about the Hot Tub Time Machine. Did he travel back to the 1980s and start hanging out with Steve Howe and Dwight Gooden? What’s next, hair relaxer and the Victory Tour?

The Envelope, Please: Here’s how it all shakes out: NL Division Winners: Phillies, Cardinals, Rockies. NL Wild Card: Braves. AL Division Winners: Yankees, Tigers, Angels. AL Wild Card: Red Sawx.
NL Playoffs: Phillies over Rockies; Cardinals over Braves. NLCS: Phillies over Cardinals.
AL Playoffs: Yankees over Tigers; Angels over Red Sawx. ALCS: Angels over Yankees.
World Series: Phillies over Angels. In six.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: The list of players declaring early for the NBDL, er, NBA Draft will grow exponentially in the coming weeks, as players flee totalitarian coaches, sociology papers and pesky NC2A regulations. Everybody has a right to work, but not everybody has a right to work in the NBA. Hear that, Manny Harris?...You can’t blame Browns nose tackle Shaun Rogers for trying to carry a loaded .45-caliber gun onto an airplane. It isn’t as if there’s been a lot of talk about heightened airport security in, say, THE LAST EIGHT YEARS! What kind of an idiot is this guy? Let’s hope the Browns are smart enough to jettison him. Soon…Alabama will unveil in August a bronze statue of Nick Saban on its “Walk of Champions,” adding its newest national championship coach to the collection of memorials to previous winners, Wallace Wade, Frank Thomas, Bear Bryant and Gene Stallings. Saban’s, however, will be the only one that scowls when Gatorade is poured on it…Good news for NASCAR: Jeff Gordon and Matt Kenseth are feuding again! Since nobody’s paying much attention to the racing, maybe the drama will command attention. Maybe.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Eagles will never admit they are rebuilding (the “Gold Standard” isn’t about taking a step back, people), but their off-season moves indicate that is their philosophy. Once they trade Donovan McNabb, they will be in full reconstruction mode. The team didn’t sign one top-shelf free-agent, as they have done in the past. Their acquisitions leaned toward the direction of depth, rather than playmakers who help teams win big. Wednesday’s news (via The Philadelphia Inquirer) that Courageous Cat will likely be the backup QB in 2010 basically signed McNabb’s papers out of town, because there is no way the Birds will spend $5 mil on a third-string signal-caller, especially one as poor a pocket passer as C.C. If the Eagles indeed are taking a step back, that’s fine. Prosperity is practically impossible to maintain for a decade. But it would be nice if the team would admit it, rather than trying to convince fans that a Super Bowl run is possible this season. And, as for those who have begged the Birds to deal McNabb, be sure to react to every loss in ’10 with the same anger and vitriol you have in previous years. Make sure to blame it all on the quarterback, even if the defense is awful, and the offensive line couldn’t stop a brigade of tricycling four-year olds. If you’re going to be nasty, at least be consistent. If it was all McNabb’s fault before, it has to be all Kevin Kolb’s fault going forward.

* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: As the WWE has become more sophisticated(!) in its business model, it gets better and better at scripting its matches. (Please don’t tell loyal Hombre reader Big Ray that it’s fake.) Referees wear small earpieces, the better to get instructions from above. Well, don’t be surprised if you see a small apparatus jammed into the ears of the zebras at this week’s Final Four in Indianapolis. The idea of a West Virginia-Butler championship game is enough to make CBS executives do anything to prevent that from happening. So, they’ll have the refs make some shaky calls in key situations, the better to get some name-brand action in the title tilt. El Hombre is convinced that’s what happened with that awful charging call in the final minutes of last Sunday’s Duke-Baylor game. The Bears were rallying, but the idea of heading to Indy without a big name was too much to take. So, the CBS exec sent the message from the booth, and the striped shirt responded dutifully. Duke wins. Don’t be surprised if there are some criminal calls this weekend, the better to preserve ratings and placate advertisers, who might mutiny if the Bulldogs play the Mountaineers Monday. Sound too cynical for words? Maybe, but at least wait until late Saturday night before you pass judgment.

-EH-

Eldrick Speaks -- Again (Yawn)

2010-03-26T08:22:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

The sporting world is much better informed about all things Eldrick after the two illuminating interviews he granted last Sunday, to ESPN and the Golf Channel. (CBS declined to participate.) Yeah, right.

By speaking with Tom Rinaldi and Kelly Tilghman, two interviewers favored by the Woods camp, the golfer did what he could to control the situation. His people had already chosen the location (Isleworth Golf and Country Club), set a time limit (five minutes for ESPN, six for TGC), mandated that the interrogators stand, face-to-face, with Woods and embargoed the release of the footage until 7:30 p.m., presumably to let Woods finish watching the NC2A tournament. Woods’ people also stipulated that the interviews would take place outside – why is anybody’s guess – but rainy weather made it impossible for that and forced the action onto a veranda.

With all of those conditions satisfied, it was up to Rinaldi and Tilghman to do their jobs. Unfortunately, neither was overly impressive. Rinaldi looked suitably serious and consulted his note cards, but he never pressed Woods on his unwillingness to discuss specific events, such as whether his wife, Elin, had indeed used his head as a substitute for a Nike One Tour golf ball. Tilghman was overly impressed with Woods’ Buddhist bracelet, a symbol of his rededication to his mother’s faith. Remember that we had never heard anything about his devotion to the Fat Man before, except as an explanation for his preternatural skills of concentration on the course.

It would have been a service to all viewers if either interviewer had thought – or been instructed by his/her superiors – to ask about whether Woods has ever used performance-enhancing drugs. While rehabilitating an injury, Woods sought the care of Dr. Anthony Galea, a Tronno-based physician who is in the middle of a maelstrom regarding his prescribing P.E.D.s to big-league ballplayers. Woods could have chosen any doctor in the U.S., because his health insurance is probably pretty darn good. Instead, he went to Canada to seek assistance from a doc who is in big trouble with the Proper Authorities. Hmmmm.

We didn’t hear anything about that, and it leads one to wonder whether the Woods folks forbade such a query or if the people at the two networks weren’t doing their jobs properly. Whatever the case, we learned nothing from the interviews. Woods was smart enough to tell us everything we already knew. He had done some bad things. Really? It was tough to tell his mother. You don’t say! He’s not sure how the fans will treat him. Perhaps, but he can guarantee reverential treatment at Augusta National next month from the stodgy coots who run the Masters and tolerate nothing short of behavior reserved for Easter Vigil Mass when the tournament comes to town. At least that’s how CBS and the sycophantic golf media, many of whom knew about Woods’ behavior but let it ride, behave.

In short, the Woods interviews were nothing short of public relations ploys to end what has become a slowing, quieting news cycle. You can’t fault the networks for jumping at the chance to speak with the golfer, since it afforded them the opportunity to promote the heck out of the event. What we can fault them for is not following up when Woods stonewalled them, for refusing to ask about Galea and for buying the Buddhist stuff without asking why we hadn’t heard so much about this religious devotion before Woods went rogue. Jailhouse conversions are nothing new, but this seems a little too contrived, even for a control freak like Woods.

Put this one in the win column for the Woods camp and get ready for the next round of silliness at Augusta. That begins April 5, when Woods will deign to speak with the mainstream media prior to competing in the Masters. It’s interesting that he chose that Monday, since it’s the beginning of baseball season and the day of the NC2A men’s hoops championship game. Some pundits have wondered whether Woods will overshadow the other sporting events that day. It’s more likely he’s hoping they will overshadow him. Think about it; dozens of journalists, TV types and columnists will be in Indianapolis to shower praise upon this year’s top student-athletes, while others will be scattered across the country in ballparks to figure out which ballplayers used their off-seasons to experiment with HGH. It’s a classic trick for those who don’t want maximum coverage for a news story and the reason why a lot of unpopular proclamations and information are given on Friday afternoon, the better to be ignored over the weekend. Woods couldn’t have done that, since he’ll be trying to make the cut at Augusta on the Friday of that week, so he picked one of the busiest news days of the year to meet the press.

The most important thing for Woods is that he is on his way back to the course, and it’s clear that the people who cover him are reverting to their pre-scandal form by affording him considerable latitude and respect. Before you know it, commentators will be gushing over his game again, and advertisers will be lining up to have him sell their products. The healing is almost completed. Woods’ participation at the Masters will take him closer to the final step in his rehabilitation.

Oprah.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: The college football world was rocked Thursday by the news that the International Bowl was folding after four historic editions. For some reason, the Big Least decided that sending a team to play a MAC school in Tronno wasn’t a good idea. Fret not, America, because a Big Least rep will be part of the new Pinstripe Bowl in Yankee Stadium. Talk about an upgrade…Georgia Tech’s Paul Hewitt, a New York native, turned down the St. John’s coaching job, showing just how tough it’s going to be for the Johnnies to get back to prominence. If the locals don’t want the gig, who’s left?...If you’re not loving the NC2A tourney, then you probably root for Bill Gates and Warren Buffet to get richer. The upsets may have terrorized your office pools, but it’s been great to see the little guys stick it to the Rejection Committee by winning so many games…Ryan Leaf received 10 years probation in his drug and burglary case after a guilty plea. Hard to believe NFL types had such a hard time choosing between him and Peyton Manning back in the late ‘90s. As career train wrecks go, his has to be in consideration for biggest ever.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The anti-Donovan crowd seems closer every day to getting its wish: an end to McNabb’s tenure under center in Philadelphia. The best part? They’re delighted Kevin Kolb will be taking over, simply because he’s not Number Five. That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement of Kolb’s abilities, which frankly few can endorse given his short resume – two starts and a 1-1 record. The Eagles stunk at the end of last year because of a rotten offensive line, a defense that could not pressure the QB and a below-par secondary. McNabb wasn’t exactly channeling Johnny Unitas, but blaming him for everything is at best myopic and at worst an indictment of Philadelphia fans’ vaunted sports knowledge. McNabb will go before the 2010 season, if the price is right, and will definitely be gone before 2011 kicks off. (If it does kick off.) And if you think Kolb or just about any other QB in the league can lead the Eagles to the Super Bowl as they are presently constructed, then be sure to wait up late next Saturday night to get a good look at the Easter Bunny.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: After spending a couple months defending Boniface Meyer’s now-you-see-him, now-you-don’t, now-you-do-again behavior regarding his coaching future at Florida on the basis of his heart problems, it’s time to take off the gloves and expose the man for what he is: a two-bit bully who thinks he can do whatever he wants to whomever he wants. Meyer’s threatening, menacing approach to an Orlando Sentinel reporter who merely quoted a UF player was a disgrace and reminded El Hombre of Johnny Friendly, the waterfront hoodlum who was nothing without his cronies and guns. Meyer actually told the reporter, Jeremy Fowler, that if it had been “his son [he had quoted], [they] would be going at it right now.” All Fowler did was accurately report what Deonte Thompson said about the differences between outgoing Gator QB St. Timothy of Tebow and next year’s presumed starter, John Brantley. Because Thompson was not entirely complimentary of Meyer’s pet, the petty dictator thought Fowler’s printing of the comment would be detrimental to Tebow’s draft prospects. No, Boniface, Tebow’s awful throwing motion and wet-noodle arm strength will take care of that. You need to tell your players to stop disparaging your favorite, rather than excoriating those who quote them. Meyer’s behavior was cowardly and arrogant. He needs to issue a legitimate apology (fat chance) and remember that bullies eventually get their comeuppance, and when it happens, the whole world applauds.

* * *

ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: The sporting world lost one of its best comrades-in-arms last week when Jeff St. Amour passed away. Jeff was always quick with a smile, a bit of incisive sports commentary and a kind word. All you need to know about him was revealed at the end of his daughter Caitlin’s marvelous and incredibly courageous eulogy Tuesday. She said that she would finish with two of her father’s “rules.” The first was, “Never strike out looking,” and the second was, “Always finish your drink.” That was Jeff. He participated fully in life and never turned down the opportunity to have a good time. Most of all, he was a dedicated family man who loved his wife and children. As we continue on our strange and wonderful journey, we should emulate Jeff and be sure to keep swinging – and smiling.

-EH-

The Onset of Madness

2010-03-18T06:51:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

No matter how poor a job the NC2A’s esteemed Rejection Committee did assembling this year’s bracket, watching the increasing love affair between tournament organizers and big-conference schools will certainly be more entertaining than suffering through the coming three weeks of manufactured drama surrounding Eldrick Woods’ return to golf. Could there be any storm capable of more damage than Woods’ decision to end his sackcloth-and-ashes tour at The Masters, which will be televised by espn and then CBS, the two networks most capable of slathering an event, athlete or coach in enough treacle to clog even the most efficient sewage system?

As sports fans prepare to have their brackets torn apart by underachieving high seeds and dastardly upstarts, espn is auditioning a battalion of string quartets for its melodramatic pre-tourney package, while Jim Nantz is rehearsing scads of catch phrases and hosannas to intone at properly reverential moments. And in Augusta, Gestapo-like security forces are preparing holding cells and sharpening their bayonets in anticipation of pouncing on any spectator brazen enough to regard Woods with anything other than awe and wonder. Forget waterboarding. Anyone caught so much as smirking at Woods will be made to listen to one of Augusta National’s oldest members recount stroke-by-stroke memories of his most recent rounds. Next to that, bamboo shoots under the fingernails is like a dinner date with Amanda Seyfried.

The best way to ward off the intense nausea this period is sure to induce (syrup of ipecac has nothing on this stuff) is to direct your attention at something else. Fortunately for sports fans, there is the NC2A tournament, which for all its faults, remains quite the spectacle, if only because Dookie V isn’t able to broadcast any games. That wonderful circumstance, however, that could well change in the coming dark times. Then again, it might be better if espn gets the broadcast rights to the tourney, because maybe it won’t decide to show 76% of the nation that compelling tilt between Duke and Arkansas-Peanut Butter. (Credit El Nino with that one.) Anyway, with the round of 65 already pared by one – thanks for stopping by, Winthrop – courtesy of the infernal play-in game that robs one school of the true tourney experience (once again, the little guy takes one in the shorts) it’s time to look at the best thing about March, aside from green beer, and make a few declarations.

Justice Deferred: Temple was hosed. The three-time Atlantic 10 champion finished 11-1, captured its conference’s regular-season and tourney titles, finished eighth in the RPI and beat Villanova by 10 points, but it received a five seed and the chance to play strong Ivy winner Cornell, which is better than the 12 seed it received. The Midwest bracket is too strong, especially since Kansas, the number one overall seed, is in it. Sure, the Jayhawks only have to play one of the other big boys (Ohio State and Georgetown) in the bracket, but their presence almost guarantees a tough finale for KU. West Virginia should have been treated more fairly. The Mountaineers didn’t necessarily deserve a number one seed, although WVU finished fourth in the RPI, had the nation’s third-toughest schedule, won the Big East tournament and closed the season on an 8-1 roll. But WVU should have had the softest number two road, against Duke, rather than Kentucky. Just what we need, more bile for Bob Huggins.

Mid-Major Slap-Around: Temple and Cornell weren’t the only mid-majors to get abused. Consider Butler and UTEP. Both could win a couple tourney games, but they are paired against each other, the better to guarantee the elimination of a non-BCS tough guy early on. Same goes for UNLV and Northern Iowa. Old Dominion was 27th in the final RPI, beat Georgetown in D.C. and is seeded 11th. Utah State is a 12, despite a 26-7 record, a win over BYU and a season-ending 17-1 run. Here’s hoping all the little guys win big. Won’t it be interesting to hear the Deflection Committee try to explain that?

Small Names, Big Games: There is a reason teams like Yosemite Sam Houston State and St. Mary’s win their conferences: They have guys who can play. As you peruse the early rounds of the tourney, be sure to check out SHS’s three-point specialist Corey Allmond, who hit 11 triples at Kentucky. Gonzaga fans can’t stand St. Mary’s 6-11 senior Omar Samhan, but his 20.9 ppg and 11.0 rpg have sure endeared him to the Gael faithful. Wofford’s Noah Dahlman (16.8 ppg) is a force along the front line, and Montana’s Anthony Johnson is one of the nation’s most accurate backcourt shooters. Pay attention every time New Mexico State guard Jahmar Young gets the rock, because he may be scoring in a couple seconds, and be alert whenever Utah State forward Tai Wesley is on the court, because few can fill a stat sheet like him.

Soo-Prise! You know there are going to be upsets. It happens all the time. So here are some first-rounders to consider: San Diego State over Tennessee; Georgia Tech over OK State, UTEP over Butler; Murray State over Vandy, Siena over Purdue and Old Dominion over Notre Dame.

Final Fantasy: Indianapolis gets a bunch of chalk: Kansas, Syracuse, Duke and West Virginia.

The Envelope, Please: Kansas isn’t a juggernaut, but it has too much (size, shooting, experience, toughness) for this crop. Bill Self enhances his legend with his second title, beating Duke in the finale, 81-79.

Lucky You: The last couple years have featured some ugliness for El Hombre in the bracket department. But he feels 2010 will be different. (Hah!) Without further ado, here is his entire bracket – from here on known as The Answer Key – broken down according to each round’s winners.

Round One: Kansas, Northern Iowa, Michigan State, Maryland, San Diego State, Georgetown, Georgia Tech, Ohio State, Syracuse, Gonzaga, UTEP, Murray State, Xavier, Pittsburgh, Brigham Young, Kansas State, Kentucky, Texas, Temple, Wisconsin, Marquette, New Mexico, Clemson, West Virginia, Duke, Louisville, Texas A&M, Siena, Old Dominion, Baylor, Richmond, Villanova.
Second Round: Kansas, Michigan State, Georgetown, Ohio State, Syracuse, UTEP, Pittsburgh, BYU, Kentucky, Temple, Marquette, West Virginia, Duke, Siena, Baylor, Villanova.
Sweet Sixteen: Kansas, Georgetown, Syracuse, BYU, Kentucky, West Virginia, Duke, Villanova.
Elite Eight: Kansas, Syracuse, West Virginia, Duke.
Final Four: Kansas, Duke.
Championship: Kansas.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Looks like Texas Rangers manager Ron Washington hopped into the Hot Tub Time Machine and went back to the ‘80s last season. Hey, lots of people in pro sports are smoking pot. And don’t even start on the painkillers and P.E.D.s. But coke? Yo, Ron, you have to update your recreational drug profile…If anybody not named Tim Tebow were tossing wobbly out patterns, throwing while backpedaling or taking nine seconds to release the ball, he would be lucky to get drafted at all. But some NFL team is going to choose him in the first three (two?) rounds and hope that he develops into a legitimate starter. Keep hoping…NBA owners unanimously approved Michael Jordan’s bid to take over the Charlotte Bobcats. Why wouldn’t they? Given Jordan’s track record of picking talent (Kwame Brown, Adam Morrison) and not showing up for work, he’s the perfect adversary…NFL owners are trying to decide whether they want to change the rules of overtime for playoff games. Look out for a compromise solution that includes eight-on-eight football after regulation, and if there is still a tie, a field goal kicking contest involving offensive linemen. Now that sounds like fun.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? After sitting out the big-money part of the NFL’s free agency shuffle, the Eagles have become quite busy in the past week, giving those fans and media analysts who are trying to figure out the team’s QB plans plenty to think about. The most obvious thing about the team’s intentions is that youth remains a priority, so even if Number Five is under center for the 2010 season, he likely won’t be back in ’11. With Seattle’s overspending for Charlie Whitehurst – what a great time to be a Seahawks’ season-ticket holder – the Browns picking up Jake Delhomme and Seneca Wallace (blechhh!), the Rams looking pretty darn interested in Sam Bradford, the Cardinals’ signing Derek Anderson to join the QB derby with Hot Tub Leinart, and Cowboy Quarterback’s role in the recruitment of LaDainian Tomlinson presaging a return to the Vikings, the market for Birds’ QBs looks smaller and smaller. Maybe the Bills might be interested. The Panthers are a possibility, although they’re on the hook for $13 mil to Delhomme. Jacksonville could be a destination, although David Garrard did throw for nearly 3,600 yards last year. The upshot? Expect Number Five and Kevin Kolb to be in midnight green next season, with Courageous Cat the likeliest QB to be moved.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Now that Eldrick Woods has rejoined golf’s living, it’s important to know that he is all about golf. His people are going to keep spinning his rehab and his remorse, but this is about his ability to play golf, make money and get back into the promotional world that made him so wealthy. The best thing any of us can do is forget about Woods the man, because no amount of Ari Fleisher-generated pap can bring back the carefully-crafted image we were fed for the first part of Woods’ life. From here on out, it’s about golf, and that’s not the worst thing in the world, so long as the coming months and years don’t “heal the wounds” and yield “forgiveness from the American people.” Baloney. Woods is a golfer. That’s all he is and all he should be. The run-up to his Masters appearance shows how strong the cult of personality surrounding him is, but here’s hoping fans wise up and focus only on whether he parred 17 and not on who Woods is. We already know that, and it’s not very pretty.

-EH-

Bursting the Bubble

2010-03-12T07:34:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

The Connecticut women’s team’s dominance of its basketball world has been so thorough that it is causing otherwise logical people to ask questions that seem to have come directly from the lunch table at the Laughing Academy. Things like whether the Huskies could play competitive basketball against a Division I men’s team. Or a D-II club. Or even a top-shelf boys high school team. Granted, some of that curiosity stems from political correctness. And don’t discount a certain broadcast entity’s self-serving desire to promote its own programming. But the questions are out there, and they are ridiculous.

Don’t mistake this for a chauvinistic screed. UConn’s winning streak is remarkable. But even Huskies’ coach Geno Auriemma understands that his team couldn’t handle those assignments. He admits Connecticut couldn’t even hang with a WNBA team or the U.S. national women’s club, much less a men’s squad.

So, if the NC2A men’s tournament were to swell to a bloated 96 teams, there wouldn’t be room for UConn’s thresher, even if it wins 100 games in a row. Or a thousand. There would, however, be spots for Louisiana Tech and IUPUI, whatever the hell that is. And North Carolina might find a place in a come-one, come-all extravaganza. Okay, so maybe that’s a bit over the top. The Tar Heels stink. Worse, they don’t play hard.

If there were ever an argument against an idea as hare-brained and as greedy as a 96-team version of March Madness, it’s this year’s tourney “bubble.” Have you seen the thing? In years past, it has resembled the giant, glimmering orb that bore Glinda the Good Witch of the North in and out of Dorothy Gale’s Ozian reverie. This year, it looks like the by-product of a pig’s roll in a particularly fetid mud puddle. Trying to find 65 worthy teams for the tournament is a big challenge this year. Just imagine if we were figuring out who deserved the last four spots in the Orson Welles Invitational. What fun it would be discussing the relative merits of Missouri State and Portland. Talk about your drama. And what about those water cooler arguments?

VP of Sales: “How can you say Weber State belongs? They went 1-4 versus the RPI’s top 100.

Comptroller Bob: Oh, and I suppose you favor Harvard and their 274th best strength of schedule?

Heaven help the Republic if those debates are happening across the country. We’ll never get any work done. Come Sunday evening, teams such as Virginia Tech and their awful offense and Memphis and their rotten rebounding could find their ways onto seeding lines in your brackets. The “Last Four In” had better fly to their first-round sites as soon as their names are mentioned, the better to prevent anybody from noticing just how bad they are and getting some court to issue an injunction barring them from participating.

As bad as this year’s crop of at-large candidates might be, it’s nowhere near what could be soiling the tourney’s good name in a year or so. All of the arguments to expand the tournament are self-serving, from the NC2A’s desire to make more money from its TV contracts and corporate “champions” (just writing that makes El Hombre want to wash off the slime), to the coaches’ wishes to preserve their jobs through expanding the number of teams who get to boast of tourney participation. That’s the athletic equivalent of grading every test on the curve. (A big favorite during EH’s days at Eton.) So, you went 5-13 in the Big East? Hey, you still made the tournament. Here’s a set of steak knives.

The other popular argument these days, which seems to be crafted by the same BCS moneygrubbers people who spout the “Every week is a playoff” argument during college football season, is that expanding the tourney puts NC2A hoops on a more level playing ground with professional sports leagues. That camp posits that since 16 of 30 NBA teams (53.3%) and 12 of 32 NFL clubs (37.5%) qualify for the post-season, the NC2A tournament should increase its participation level, which stands at 19.1%. That’s a sound argument, until you consider that in professional leagues, the franchises are all on even footing – except for the Lions. They have the same salary restraints, except in baseball, the same money coming to them from national TV contracts and the same goals and mandates. That is absolutely not the case in the NC2A.

There are 250 schools that have no shot of winning the tournament. Ever. (And don’t try to argue that George Mason disproved that. The Patriots were the first mid-major team in 27 years to reach the Final Four.) Their budgets are nowhere near those of the big-time programs. Their resources and facilities don’t come close. Their conferences have little or no status on the national scene. You cannot argue percentages when there is a giant gap between the group of schools that have a shot at the tourney and those just hoping for a moment or two in the spotlight. If 31 at-large teams are added to the tourney, do you think we’ll see the Horizon League’s runner-up included or an 11th-place squad from the Big East? Is the regular-season champ from the MEAC that lost in its made-for-TV conference tourney going to be included, or will another ACC club get a spot? It’s big-time college sports welfare, and it will hurt an cherished sporting institution badly.

In a week, what could be the final sensible NC2A tournament will kick off. And even though there will be some schools in there with credentials shakier than those of a porn star who’s running for governor, at least they’ll all have winning records. We hope.

Meanwhile, fans of the UConn women should be patient. Their favorites will probably get in – when the tourney is expanded to 256 teams.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Ben Roethlisberger may not be guilty of sexual assault. We’ll know more when (if) he provides a DNA sample. But the Pittsburgh quarterback is guilty of serial stupidity. Don’t you think it’s time for a 28-year old multimillionaire to stop trolling college dives for companionship? Get a gun and head to the club, Benjamin. At least there you’ll be hanging with people your own age. Oh, and one more thing: If you’re going out for a night of drinking with the sorority crowd, wear something other than a T-shirt with the devil’s face on it…Eldrick Woods is close to returning to competitive golfing. But don’t expect things to change, at least on the course. The PGA will do everything possible to insulate its cash cow from the public, to the point where he may get to compete on a closed course or play his rounds on Golden Tee…In another example of its continued irrelevance on the sporting the scene, the NHL is dragging its feet about whether to ban hits to the head. At a time when the discussion about concussions has become deafening, the frozen-water crowd continues to debate whether to outlaw cheap shots. No wonder no one can find the league’s games on TV…Milton Bradley talked about how horrible the conditions were for him and other black players in Chicago, a charge Cubs GM Jim Hendry refutes. There was no doubt some racial component to the criticism Bradley received, but his production last year was poor, and for that he was criticized. For a guy now on his ninth team of an 11-year career, it would be a good idea for Bradley to “look in the mirror,” as Hendry suggested…R.I.P. Merlin Olsen.

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YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? If Eddie Jordan isn’t fired this weekend, he’ll get axed the next. Make it through that, and he will certainly be on the bread line by late April, when the Sixers’ regular season ends. If this type of thing weren’t so commonplace in professional sports, it would be laughable. But teams have been firing coaches to cover up management mistakes for decades, so why shouldn’t Jordan get whacked for the poor jobs done by GM Ed Stefanski and executives Peter Luukko and Mr. Ed? Did Jordan hire a coach with a clear, definite system of offense that ran counter to the roster he was expected to direct? No. Did Jordan give a max contract to a forward who was expected to play one way but who had a game that was completely different, a fact that was known throughout the NBA? Nope. Further, did Jordan think it was smart to hire a coach to run a system that puts a premium on court sense, when said big-money free agent was “one of the least intuitive players in the league,” according to an NBA GM? Nyet. Did Jordan give a huge, cap-crippling contract to a player (Andre Iguodala) who didn’t deserve to be paid that much? No, sir. Did Jordan assemble a roster that had no proven point guard and then ask a coach who has a history of being tough on young players to change his style by giving the keys to the team to a rookie? Nein. Did Jordan sign a one-dimensional center to a trade-proof contract? Non. Did Jordan sign a shooter to a two-year, $13 million contract, only to find that he couldn’t shoot all that well? No, sir. Given the answers to those questions, it makes perfect sense that Jordan should be fired, since so much of the Sixers’ mess is his doing. The man is not a great coach, but this franchise’s problems, both immediate (23-41 record) and long-term (worst cap situation in the league for 2010-11) are not his fault. Too bad nobody in the organization recognizes that.

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AND ANOTHER THING: Big College Swindle mouthpiece Bill Hancock invoked the “Congress has more important things to do” cop-out when describing Capitol Hill’s inquiry into the distribution of funds by his organization. First off, that’s the last resort of people with no compelling argument on their side. It’s a wonder he didn’t say, “Nanny, nanny boo-boo” right after that. Secondly, many of the institutions our fine elected officials are investigating receive millions in state funding each year and huge dollar amounts from federal research grants. If there are fiscal monkeyshines going on within a group of those schools, then Congress absolutely should be involved, Bill. Be careful what you believe every time Hancock opens his mouth. The Big College Swindle exists to exercise sovereignty over college football bowl dough and to keep it in the hands of the biggest schools. By throwing some crumbs to Division I-A’s lesser lights, the BCS gives the illusion that it is being equitable. To give you an idea of how unfair the system is, consider that several studies have shown that a college football playoff would generate more money than the bowls. But since the proceeds from that wouldn’t be controlled by the BCS schools, rather by the NC2A, there might be a fairer sharing of the pot and therefore less money for the big boys. Hancock doesn’t want Congress involved, because it may provide a stunning first: Lawmakers agreement on something.

-EH-

Let's Get Ready To Rumble!

2010-03-05T08:02:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

The clock is ticking on the first round of labor negotiations between NFL owners and league’s Players Association, and they have the potential to be as acrimonious as a chance meeting between Jim Bunning and common sense. It’s now certain the 2010 season will not feature a salary cap, the only thing ever invented that keeps Green Bay on an even footing with New York. There probably won’t be a collective bargaining agreement between the two sides in the near future. And the way things are shaping up, talks are likely to be as friendly and civil as a food fight in Miss Merrie’s pre-school lunch room.

Expecting a signed, sealed deal after such a short period of bartering is borderline crazy, since there are so many big issues to deal with, and each passing day brings more certainty that the league is looking to slap the players around as if they all played for the Detroit Lions. Despite annual revenues of about $7 billion, TV contracts that would make the International Olympic Committee envious and a seemingly endless demand for apparel and other branded items, the NFL is crying poor. It wants to knock down the amount of “gross revenues” devoted to player salaries – even though the definition of what’s in that pot is already quite fluid – and it’s trying to make contracts even less secure for athletes than before. If the owners thought they could get away with it, they would try to jam baseball’s old reserve clause into the deal, the better to rob players of their rights completely. Old False Face and Little Danny would love to have year-to-year deals for their hired hands, all the while selling piles of tickets and bloated party passes to fans who have been conditioned to worship the logo, not the player.

Anybody who followed the recent releases of top-shelf running backs throughout the league understands exactly what the owners are after. Within the span of a week, LaDainian Tomlinson, Brian Westbrook and Thomas Jones were all jettisoned by their teams, even though all had time and money left on their contracts. Part of it was the nature of life for NFL running backs, who like roasting chickens, have little plastic sticks in their backs that pop up when they are fully cooked. All three are north of 30 years old and therefore practically crippled and wheelchair-bound in the eyes of league execs. Why pay them big money for their diminishing skills when younger backs can produce nearly as well (if not better) for much less whip-out?

Such is the state of the professional football contract. And such is the cause for concern among all players. The NFL wants even more control over its labor costs, which is pretty amazing considering teams can cut players with no obligation once the guaranteed part of the contract is satisfied. No other major sport operates that way. If a baseball player signs a 5-year, $45 million contract, he gets it all, so long as he doesn’t retire or celebrate the New Year by firing a gun in a crowded nightclub. He could inject himself with HGH in the batter’s box, and it wouldn’t matter. He still gets paid. The same goes for NBA and NHL players, none of whom is protected by a particularly robust union. The NBA deal, which was forged after a historic cave-in by the drunken-sailor-spending players, allows for serial hounds like Me-Mac to get eight figures, even when they haven’t won a single playoff series during their careers. NFL players, on the other hand, have little or no leverage against the most successful league on the planet.

The good news for those who support the union’s cause is that new NFLPA president DeMaurice Smith appears to have the fortitude necessary to stand up to the greed mongers who own the teams. Smith has put the chances of a work stoppage in 2011 at “14” on a scale of 1 to 10, so maybe the players will dig in and get a fair deal. Of course, that assumes they have saved enough of their million-dollar salaries to see them through six months of labor unrest. If you’ll remember, it was a spendthrift attitude that forced NBA players to capitulate during their last work stoppage. Well, that and the Great Entourage Uprising of 1999, when dozens of hangers-on and childhood pals revolted when struggling, striking NBA players had to cut back on their cell-phone service and forced them to switch to Korbel from Cristal in the clubs. The NFL has controlled its world pretty well the past several decades, and with commissioner Paul Tagliabue, a conciliatory presence, gone and wartime consigliore Roger Goodell in the top chair, a hard line could prevail again. Whatever the case, don’t expect to see your favorite pros on the field when the 2011 starts. They’ll be too busy cracking heads at the bargaining table.

And that could be uglier than any late hit, clothesline tackle or crackback block. Players had better hope they’re able to walk away from the collision with everything intact.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Stop the presses! Cowboy Quarterback revealed that he hasn’t made up his mind yet about playing in the 2010 season! When will people stop talking to the drama queen and just wait until he shows up or doesn’t show up for training camp? It’s beyond old. This has now become part of the purview of Zahi Hawass…You have to love baseball. Nearly six months after he and his Milwaukee teammates celebrated a walk-off win over the Giants with a choreographed home-plate celebration, Brewers slugger Prince Fielder was drilled by San Francisco pitcher Barry Zito in the first inning of the teams’ Cactus League game Thursday. “My fastball was running in, and it just got away from me,” Zito said. Beautiful. The best part? Fielder took the plunking in stride. Less than a month until Opening Day…Hats off to Texas A&M-Commerce football coach Guy Morriss, who praised his players’ decision to steal all of the copies of the school’s weekly newspaper from racks around campus, after the paper ran – as is standard procedure – an article detailing one of their teammates’ arrest on drug charges. Morriss said, “I’m proud of my players for doing that. This is the best team building exercise we have ever done.” The Lions were a mediocre 5-5 last year, which for Morriss represents a huge step forward. He was a combined 27-54 during seven years at Kentucky and Baylor. Maybe his “team building exercises” should focus on blocking and tackling, rather than theft. Nice example to be setting, coach. You’re a real prize…The prigs who were upset by the Canadian women’s hockey team’s celebration after it won the gold medal need to be transported back to the Victorian Era, the better to match their hidebound values with a time period more suited to their stodgy personalities. So what if some young women’s revelry included beer and cigars – after fans had left the building? So what if an 18-year old woman drank some beer, in a province where the legal age of consumption is 19? Think that’s the first time it’s happened? Worse is that the head of the Canadian Hockey Federation (or whatever it’s called) actually apologized to the cranks for the fun. Every single day in Canada includes beer and cigars, so what’s the big deal? Here’s hoping the nasty whiners all get eaten by polar bears. (Just kidding. Sort of.)

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? El Hombre has always been of the opinion that Allen Iverson’s NBA tenure has been characterized by a sad waste of his talent, which likely would have produced a championship had it been used for good, rather than his own self-aggrandizement. That said, there is no joy in the news of the past week, which included reports of Iverson’s removal from the NBA world for the rest of the season – due to the continued illness of his daughter – the divorce papers filed by his wife, Tawanna, and reports that the mercurial guard has been battling gambling and alcohol demons for quite a while. Although it was tough to watch the remarkable talent prefer scoring over team play while in his prime, these dispatches are quite disturbing. One hopes they don’t presage a post-retirement catastrophe, in which a man who once had everything is laid low by an inability to handle the end of the line. Never one for off-season conditioning, Iverson always relied on his rare skills to carry him. Now that he is older, slower and fighting injuries, he doesn’t have the history or predisposition to overcome nature’s cruelties with hard work. As a result, his last days in the NBA will be remembered for controversy (in Denver and Detroit) and atrophy (Philadelphia, Part II), rather than triumph. If this is indeed it for Iverson, let’s hope he can forge a successful second chapter and that his daughter’s good health returns.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: It’s conference championship time once again, and that means the annual diatribe against the concept in general, which renders an entire regular season of play meaningless as leagues chase two hours of TV time during a four-day single-elimination format designed to punish their best teams. What could be worse than trampling one’s peers for two months, only to go cold for a game and lose the opportunity to play in the NC2A tourney, all so the league office can bask in espn’s annual dispatch from its corner of the world? It’s awful, and it isn’t fair. But that’s the contrived nature of college basketball these days. And, coming soon to a couch near you: The new, 96-team tournament, an idea that will make New Coke and the Germans’ decision to wage WWII on two fronts look like great decisions. Thank goodness for the Ivies, who choose their champion the proper way. Then again, what do those eggheads know, anyway?

* * *

ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It makes El Hombre truly sad to report that loyal reader and bon vivant Jeff St. Amour is fighting a rival tougher than any curveball he ever faced. Jeff, a great fan of Villanova, devoted father and husband, sharp businessman and great friend, has some steep odds stacked against him. But if his resolve is anything like his engaging personality and that boyish twinkle in his eyes, he’s a good bet in this scrap. When you hit your knees, send one up to the Big Skipper for Jeff. He will certainly appreciate it. Here’s to you, Jeff. You have a lot of people pulling for you.

-EH-

Winter Wonderland

2010-02-12T04:16:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

For a lot of people, the Winter Olympics consist primarily of hundreds of anonymous people with too many consonants in their names hurtling down frozen patches of earth in a collective attempt to avoid serious injury. Maddening cowbells and silly horns provide a cacophonous soundtrack to the outdoor insanity, and when the action moves inside, fans can count on gushing skating commentators and curling analysts talking about a sport that few understand. To many, the saving grace is ice hockey that actually means something, substituting for that mid-season clash between the Predators and Blue Jackets.

Welcome to Vancouver, 2010.

That, of course, is an oversimplified view of the Games, which debut Friday and will for two weeks provide NBC and its sister networks with some programming people will actually want to watch. There will be some compelling theater, as there is whenever elite athletes gather. The problem is that U.S. competitors can be eliminated right now from medal contention in dozens of events, including mostly anything with a sled, ski or gun. Oh, Lindsay Vonn ought to have strong showings in the downhill and something called the super giant slalom, provided the painkillers work, and there’s a chance the two-woman bobsled team of Shauna Rohbock and Michelle Rzepka could find its way onto the medal stand. But if you want to wave the Stars and Stripes proudly and tear up as a countryman (or woman) accepts a medal, better pay attention to the skating and X Games events, which seem to have been added just to pump up the U.S. win total.

With all of that in mind, here are a few storylines to consider before the flame is lit.

White Out: Looks like they should have held the Olympics in Washington D.C., since the nation’s capital has endured something like 300 inches of snow in the last five days, while Vancouver has to truck the stuff in from Saskatoon. They’ll be able to freeze up the downhill with no problems, but the freestyle crowd might have some sloppy conditions. Like, bummer, dude.

Stone Groove: Nobody really understands curling, but after the Turin Games in ’06, everybody was talking about it. Usually, the only time we hear about big stones moving is during an avalanche, so it’s refreshing to see them being controlled, albeit by frenzied sweepers, as thousands of Europeans cheer the come-arounds and double-takeouts and hope the Schnapps doesn’t run out if there are extra ends.

Skeleton Crew: Bobsled is crazy, and luge is nuts. But for true lunacy, check out skeleton, in which adrenalin junkies endure 5Gs of force while careering down an icy tunnel at up to 60 mph on a piece of steel and plastic that has no steering mechanism or brakes. What’s next, being shot out of a cannon down the bobsled run?

National Pride: There is no truth to the rumor that if the Canadian men’s hockey team doesn’t win the gold medal, its members will be summarily executed by a group of deranged Mounties. But should the home team fail, there will no doubt be pitchforks and torches outside the team hotel. And should the Russians apply the final indignity, expect the country to slip into a depression that no amount of Molson and back bacon can cure.

Vonn-derful World: Lindsey Vonn had everything in place for the perfect 21st century Olympic bonanza. She had the suggestive SI cover, the appearance in the same magazine’s swimsuit extravaganza, more endorsements than Air Jordan had in his prime and a strong resume. All she needed were some gold medals around her neck, and she was headed for Phelpstown – without the bong. But along came a minor distract-shin. Vonn’s pre-Olympic shin injury has threatened it all and could send her back to the anonymity of the European ski circuit and its Tyrolean cowbell ringers. Vonn had better find a magical elixir for the injury, before Americans find some cute, young figure skater upon whom they can shower their affection and dollars.

Dopes: The first blade hasn’t even been put to ice in earnest, and already up to 30 athletes have been disqualified from the Games for positive tests for performance-enhancing drugs. Unbelievable. Vancouver tries to stage the Olympics, and a late-‘90s baseball game breaks out. It would be tempting to see whether one of the cheats is Balco Bonds, but he is likely in the clear, since it would impossible to find equipment that would fit him. Imagine how big his bobsled helmet would have to be. And no company makes skis long enough for his unnaturally huge feet. The names of the offenders have not been released, so rumors that every one is a member of a former Eastern Bloc country can’t be substantiated.

Blades of Glory: The featured events of the Olympics, at least for those who pay little attention to sports the other three-
plus years of the Games’ cycle, are the figure skating competitions. While other competitions are sponsored by sports drinks, cars and beer, skating’s commercial roster includes Dove Moisturizing System II, Monistat 21st Century and Massengill Fruit Sensations. There’s nothing better than a bunch of guys in tuxedos gushing over Svetlana’s triple salchow and then waiting anxiously to find out whether the miserable French judge is still furious over having her Olympic hopes dashed back in Innsbruck. Skating is shown in prime time, is treated like a debutante ball and pulls in huge ratings. Expect the Russians and Asians to dominate and pray that this is the year one of the men’s pairs competitors actually launches his partner over the boards during the freestyle competition.

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EL HOMBRE SEZ: St. Louis Cardinals officials announced earlier this week that new hitting coach Muscles McGwire will answer no questions about the PEDs he pumped into his system while shattering records and ruining baseball’s reputation. Fine. Here’s a request for no media member to speak to him, write about him or mention his name on TV or radio. If he’s trying to sanitize his name for future Hall of Fame consideration (Ha!), let him do it by himself…Speaking of atrocities against America’s pastime, the Milwaukee Brewers are going to erect a statue of Bud Sellout outside their stadium, next to sculptures of Hank Aaron and Robin Yount. What’s next, a mural of the Black Sox outside new Comiskey? Or perhaps a monument to the 1962 New York Mets? If the Brewers insist on commemorating Sellout, make sure the statue depicts him doing what he did best: lying about his role in the steroid era…Danica Patrick makes her official NASCAR debut this Sunday in the Daytona 500, which ought to create questions among the Billy Bob set. For instance, do her fans have to get bikini waxes, instead of shaving her car’s number into their back hair? And what happens if she wins a race before Dale, Jr. – like everybody else has? Tough questions, but that’s what makes stock car racing such a great “sport.”…The NBA All-Star Layup Lines take place Sunday, but the real news in the sport is next Thursday’s trade deadline. Deals are already percolating, with the most popular a rumored three-way swap involving Problem Child, Ugly Contract and Unfulfilled Potential.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Phillies pitchers and catchers report to Clearwater next Wednesday, and that’s good news for those who are sick of digging out from under more snow than Tony Montana used to sling back in the day. But the level of excitement that should accompany the start of a season that could feature a third consecutive World Series appearance has been diluted by the fact that the organization refused to make the power move that would have given the Phils the best rotation in baseball. No matter how good Roy Halladay promises to be, the thought of pairing him and Cliff Lee atop the team’s starters is too tough to eliminate from fans’ minds, especially since none of the three minor-leaguers acquired for Lee is considered to be a future star. So what if Lee pitched one year and left in free agency? At least the Phils would have had him and Halladay together for 162 games – with Cole Hamels in the no-pressure number three spot. Instead of giving fans that, the team tried to jam a story down their throats that the farm stocks had to be replenished for future success. Horse manure! It was a money decision, and that’s it. The team didn’t want to pay Lee $9 million this year, didn’t want to lose him for nothing after the season and was afraid of being painted as cheapskates by not making a strong move for him in free agency next winter. There is still a lot to be excited about for the team, but Lee’s absence tempers the enthusiasm, and that’s a damn shame.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: The tears of joy were barely dry in New Orleans this week when the NFL’s perpetual news cycle sprang to life with rumors about possible trades, speculation about the free agent pool, worries about a potential work stoppage in 2011 and an avalanche of mock drafts. Behold the magic of the world’s most potent sports juggernaut. Even though March Madness looms, exhibition baseball games begin in fewer than three weeks, and the NBA is working overtime to promote itself, nothing can top the NFL, which has perfected the art of attracting off-season attention. Since fans are forced to wait six-plus long months until the next regular-season concussion, the league needs to prime the pump. And prime it the NFL does. Next up is free agency. Then the Draft. Mini-camps and OTAs are always good for drama. And the one month before training camp that used to be quiet time is now consumed with rumors about Cowboy Quarterback’s angst-filled decision-making process. When labor negotiations commence in earnest, the league will try to chop the players’ share of revenues from 59% to about 41%, crying poor the whole time. Don’t believe a word of it. The NFL is flush with cash, and its bottom line only getting bigger. Over the next few months, you’ll see why.

-EH-

The Ankle Bowl

2010-02-05T05:09:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Since Super Bowl XLIV will turn completely on the condition of Dwight Freeney’s ankle, it’s practically pointless to spend any time analyzing whether New Orleans’ defense can slow down the Colts’ passing attack, or if Reggie Bush is really going to propose to Kim Kardashian, now that the Saints have reached the Big Game.

Nope, it’s all ankle, all the time.

Tuesday, during Super Bowl media day, Freeney answered questions from reporters about the ankle, how he’s rehabbing the ankle, how the ankle feels in the morning and what he hopes will happen with the ankle. The last time people talked about a joint this much was during The Pineapple Express. Folks tried to make it about something other than Freeney’s ankle, to no avail. Chad OchoCrazy showed up with his own news network, which is kind of like the episode when the Three Stooges were doctors. Peyton Manning tried to make a joke, but his timing was off, and when the thing bombed, he blamed it on his little brother. The requisite collection of crazies, including a woman wearing a halo and a former American Midol contestant, was on hand, but nothing could top the biggest story: Will he or won’t he? Can he or can’t he? Is he or isn’t he?

The worst thing about the entire Freeney situation is that we won’t know a damn thing until he steps onto the field Sunday against the Saints. Until then, we will be subjected to an excruciating torrent of conjecture regarding how much Freeney will be able to play and what the Colts/Saints will do if he can’t go. Believe me; by the time kickoff comes around, the insanity surrounding the OchoCrazy News Network will seem like mother’s milk compared to the Freeney frenzy.

The big reason for the hysteria regarding one player’s cranky ankle is that the rest of the storylines surrounding the Super Bowl have created the same level of interest as Joe Biden’s daily schedule. Okay, okay, we get that this is a big deal for New Orleans. And that the healing from Hurricane Katrina’s devastation can continue only if every Big Easy resident is face down in a puddle of beer come Monday morning. We know that Peyton Manning is trying to cement his legacy, the better to continue his quest for domination of the advertising world. We’re cheering for Pierre Garcon and his Haitian friends and relatives to overcome the horrors of the earthquake, as if some poor guy who has lost everything in Port-au-Prince gives a rat’s backside about whether Garcon’s team wins the game.

But this is all well trod ground. About the only good stuff coming out of the run-up to the game are the comments by New Orleans defensive coordinator Gregg Williams about how his team wants to lay some “remember me” shots on Manning to make him less comfortable in the pocket. Not bad, but not enough. Where is the outrageous behavior? Where is Deion Sanders telling people that his new Lamborghini was a present from “myself to myself?” Where is Shannon Sharpe vs. Ray Buchanan, 2010 style? Why hasn’t President Obama sent one of the teams’ coaches a play he designed, as Nixon was rumored to have done before Super Bowl VII.

If the boredom generated by the pre-game run-up is any indication, we’re headed for an old-fashioned, yawner on Sunday. We’re talking Colts-Cowboys, 1971, Redskins-Dolphins, 1973 or Bucs-Raiders, 2003. Then again, perhaps the two explosive offenses are saving their pyrotechnics for the field, rather than filling up notebooks and tape recorders with inane pre-game comments. Let’s hope that’s the case, because the way this week is going is enough to make people want to watch HGTV. The only people who have it worse than the general public are the reporters who have to find something to talk or write about every day.

Fortunately, they have the old standby: Freeney’s ankle. When in doubt, talk about electronic stimulation or hyperbaric chambers, and you’ll be just fine.

Is it Sunday yet?

* * *

THE PICK: During the regular season and even the first couple rounds of the playoffs, the only wagers people care about involve the pointspread, the over/under and the money line. That’s it. The beauty of the Super Bowl is that everything is in play, from the game’s outcome to whether one of the kickers will mistake Snooki for a football and try to boot her through the uprights.
Here are this week’s picks:
Coin Flip: Heads
Times Referee Calls For a Measurement: Two
Number of Pete Townsend windmills at halftime: Seven
Oh, El Hombre almost forgot. Give the points in this one. We can talk about sympathy and heartstrings and Who Dat? but this is about the Colts’ ability to carve up a shaky Saints secondary (26th in the NFL vs. the pass). Yes, DWIGHT FREENEY’S ANKLE will be a factor, but the Indy defense will still create some trouble for the Saints’ attack. Peyton Manning gets his second Super Bowl, but please stop with the “greatest ever” talk. He still has some work to do in that department. Indianapolis 30, New Orleans 20.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Last week, the New Jersey Nets’ management enlisted a sports psychologist to help the woebegone team snap out of its historic funk. During his presentation, the hoops shrink jammed a needle into his cheek to demonstrate mental toughness. That runs counter to the actions of Nets fans, who have been sticking needles in their eyes all season…The onset of the Winter Olympics means the arrival in Vancouver of husky Russian biathlon competitors – and those are just the women – not to mention the anticipated pairs figure skating performance by fellow Russians Oksana Domnina and Maxim Shabalin, whose aboriginal routine sets new lows for international relations. (What’s next, a pair spoofing minstrel shows?) The big question facing the Games is whether anybody notices that the NHL will be shut down for two weeks.. Didn’t think so…College football signing day has come and gone, with the requisite “winners” and “losers,” not to mention the premature deification of a bunch of high schoolers. The big story, however, is that Lane Kiffin is still at USC and further that he has yet to say anything stupid, at least publicly…Break up the Twins! Buoyed by anticipated revenues from its new ballpark, Minnesota added Orlando Hudson to its lineup and is working on a megadeal for star catcher Joe Mauer. It’s amazing what a new ballpark will do for you, unless you’re Pittsburgh, of course…Kevin Durant’s recent scoring binge has been great to watch, but the best thing about the 6-9 Thunder star is that his name doesn’t lend itself to one of the lazy nicknames people confer on athletes. “K-Dur” just doesn’t cut it. Thankfully, “Durantula” does.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The fears that the Eagles hired Dick Jauron as a possible replacement for defensive coordinator Sean McDermott warrant some discussion, since McDermott wasn’t ready for the job when he took over (not his fault), and the Birds’ D did take a step back in 2009, although injuries and poor personnel decisions had more to do with the decay than McDermott’s inability to channel Jim Johnson. What is most worrisome about the move is that Andy Reid may have decided that the team’s secondary problems do not need to be fixed by talent upgrades, rather than having someone else “coach ‘em up.” Jauron certainly knows his stuff, having been a head coach, a defensive boss and a secondary tutor. But going into 2010 without another top-shelf safety and without doing something about Asante Samuel’s predilection for playing flag football would be a huge mistake, one that Jauron can’t fix by himself. McDermott should worry a little about the new arrival, but if Reid thinks the mere presence of an experience hand on the back line will overcome the ’09 problems, then Eagles fans will be the ones doing the real worrying.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: The pending announcement that the NC2A is planning to opt out of the final three years of its 11-season, $6 billion contract with CBS (don’t even think it won’t happen) is scary for fans of the only part of the college basketball season that really matters – the tournament. With the call for new bids will come a tacit understanding that the NC2A is wide open to an enlarging of the tourney, a move that would ruin what may be the most perfect thing in sports and the only thing the organization does well – besides screwing its student-athletes. Greed, of course, will win out, since an expanded tourney (up to as many as 96 teams) would bring a bigger annual payday, even in this shaky climate. There are reports that CBS will partner with Turner to counter espn’s multi-platform bid and put more games on the air. Or, it could mean more weight behind a pay-per-view scenario. No one will get an argument on expansion from coaches, who want more teams in so that more coaches can protect their jobs. The real losers are the fans and the tournament itself, which has grown organically over the years and has done just well in its current form for 25 years. (Okay, so they added an extra game in ’01.) Bringing in 31 more at-large teams will dilute the tourney beyond recognition. Last year, there were maybe three or four other teams that had legitimate beefs about being excluded. And by adding another 15 games in an “opening round” format, the tourney will lose many of the mid-major and small conference teams that have made the first two rounds of the tourney so compelling over the years. Ask yourself what’s more exciting, the thought of Robert Morris’ upsetting Clemson or Seton Hall’s doing it. It’s a pretty easy question to answer. And if the expansion comes, it’s likely that plenty of the Robert Morrises of the NC2A world will be eliminated before they can take on the giants. In the end, greed will win, and the NC2A will learn eventually that it ruined a perfect thing.

-EH-

All-Star Disaster

2010-01-29T11:30:00.001-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Back when Allen Iverson was holding the Philadelphia 76ers hostage with his unique brand of bionic wrist shooting, a clever saying circulated among the wily wags who covered the team. It went like this:

“They say there’s no ‘I’ in team, and there’s no “team” in Iverson.”

Great stuff, no? Anyway, the point was pretty clear. So long as A.I. was getting his, it didn’t matter what else was going on. The Sixers would win some with him, and in 2001, Iverson (with a bit of help from Larry Brown) lifted the team to the NBA Finals. But that was the limit for Iverson, whose selfish game never allowed the franchise to surround him with other top-flight players, because they knew they wouldn’t see the ball.

If only Iverson had used his powers for good, he could have been one of the greatest point guards ever to pull on an NBA uniform. Just imagine how others would have lined up to play with a ridiculously quick guard who could penetrate at will, was unstoppable in the open court and looked to pass first. It didn’t happen, and last year, age finally caught up with Iverson. No longer able to carry a team on his narrow shoulders, he was asked to take on secondary roles with first Denver and then Detroit. His response in both cases was an upraised middle finger, and after the season he was cast off into the discount bucket, where only Memphis – make that the Grizzlies’ nitwit owner – was interested in claiming him.

You know what happened from there. Iverson was injured during training camp, and when he got healthy, he blanched at coming off the bench. Memphis dumped him, the Sixers picked him up, and his creaky body turned him into the type of complementary player that used to surround him during his prime. In these cases, players generally drift off into obscurity, either as afterthoughts on rotten teams (like the Sixers) or as reserves on winners. They don’t, however, become All-Stars.

Usually.

It’s impossible to blame Iverson for his ascension to the starting lineup of the Eastern Conference All-Stars. He didn’t concoct a computer program to stuff the e-ballot box – as far as we know. Nor did he go door-to-door soliciting votes. He merely forced his way out of Memphis – where “God” told him to go, if you believe AI’s mid-summer revelation – resurfaced in Philadelphia, shed a few tears, kissed some hardwood and then proved that he isn’t the player he once was.

Since joining the Sixers, Iverson has scored a modest 14.9 ppg and dished out 4.4 apg. He’s playing just under 33 minutes a game (a far cry from the 40-plus he used to average) and has missed some time due to arthritis, not exactly a condition that afflicts younger men. Iverson will be 35 this June, and his days of embarrassing rivals with his signature crossover and jet streaming the opposition in the open court are certainly over. The Sixers knew that when they signed him, as did the rest of the NBA, which passed on his services during the off-season. To his credit, Iverson is coping with his creeping mortality, making concessions to his diminishing physical skills by trying to be more of a (gasp!) team player.

Kudos to him for that, but his willingness to junk the me-first approach that made him equal parts thrilling and maddening is not reason for inclusion among the game’s best. It’s especially not worthy of a spot on the starting five. Iverson achieved that status solely due to fan ignorance that spawned a tidal wave of support. Boston’s Ray Allen received flak from all corners when he called for an end – or at least an amendment – to the process of selecting All-Star participants by fan vote. Those who back the system argued that since the game is an exhibition, staged solely for the fans (and to make a fat profit) the NBA’s loyal customers should choose the participants. That makes sense until you realize that making the All-Star team is more than just an opportunity to spend 48 defense-free minutes. Many players have clauses in their contract that give them bonuses for reaching that milestone. Others are judged Hall of Fame-worthy by the number of times they are selected.

As bad as Iverson’s election was, the fact that Tracy McGrady, who has played all of six games this year and averaged 3.2 ppg, almost received enough votes to join the West’s starting lineup was an even greater travesty. Thank goodness a late surge pushed Steve Nash past McGrady. Why couldn’t Me-Mac have done like Yao Ming and removed himself from the ballot? Ming, who won’t play this season, understood that millions of Chinese fans would have pulled his lever, so he bowed out, gracefully. McGrady lacked that kind of class.

The solution should incorporate fan voting, but it should also let players, coaches and/or media have a voice, the better to eliminate future fiascos like the Iverson selection and the McGrady near-miss. That way, perhaps the game will feature the best of the best, not the products of election fraud.

There’s no ‘I’ in team, and there shouldn’t be an Iverson in the All-Star Game.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Golfers descended on Torrey Pines this week for a continuation of the “Who Gives A Crap Tour,” and no matter how much officials protest, Phil Mickelson and Scott Piercy can’t generate the same interest as Mr. Hot Sex. There’s no truth to the rumor PGA bigwigs are offering a $1 million bonus to the first rehab therapist who gives Tiger Woods a clean bill of health…Joel Branstrom, the Kansas high school hoops coach who was pranked by students who promised him Final Four tickets if he made a halfcourt shot (he made it, but they had no tickets for him) will be a guest of the NC2A at this year’s Final Four. After hearing about the organization’s generosity, Texas coach Rick Barnes asked for the same treatment – and wanted to know if he could bring his team with him…Wait a second. Cowboy Quarterback threw a stupid pass? Nooooo way! As much fun as it was to watch Brett Favre blow it in the last seconds of regulation last week against New Orleans (check out the radio call; it’s classic: http://www.nowpublic.com/sports/brett-favre-interception-radio-call-minnesota-radio-rips-favre-2563236.html ), you have to be impressed with his toughness. The Saints treated him like a piñata, and he kept coming back, albeit a little too dramatically. Now, we get to wait months to find out whether he’s returning. That ought to be a lot of fun.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? It’s amusing to hear people try to figure out how much responsibility Sixers’ coach Eddie Jordan should take for the team’s awful, 15-30 record. The answer? None. When GM Ed Stefanski hired Jordan, he talked about how great it was going to be watching the Sixers run Jordan’s “Princeton Offense.” Stefanski conveniently forgot that the team had no point guard and that its highest-paid player, power forward Elton Brand, is a pick-and-pop type with few of the intuitive basketball skills needed for the scheme. Worse, by giving Andre Iguodala a huge contract and Jason Kapono nearly $13 mil for two years(!), Stefanski created one of the nastiest salary cap situations around. The Sixers may have to trade Iguodala and others for an ugly expiring contract just to get under the cap next year and avoid paying the luxury tax. And somebody wants to blame Jordan for that. Sure, the coach could have won a few more games if he had decided on a rotation earlier, but the team he has been handed is not prepared to run his offense, lacks a go-to scorer, doesn’t play very good defense and shoots poorly from outside. Brand is a shell of his former self, and the Sixers didn’t realize that a big reason he looked so good a few years back with the Clippers is that Sam Cassell was hurt, and Brand took a lot more shots than he usually did – yielding more impressive numbers. Jordan isn’t the best coach, but he has been given a nightmare of a roster. The best thing for the Sixers would be for a regime change. Sell the team, Mr. Snider, and let someone who cares about basketball take over.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: The NFL has been largely bulletproof when it comes to marketing itself over the past couple decades, but the league has made a huge mistake with the Pro Bowl, no matter how much commissioner Roger Goodell tries to convince us otherwise. About 48 of the 76 players initially announced to play in the game will be suited up and ready to go Sunday night in Miami, where upper deck tickets are reportedly selling for $20 bucks below asking price. Okay, so the Pro Bowl is a joke anyway, and no one should really care – other than the players, who loved going to Hawaii – whether the market for tickets is suffering. The real travesty is that the league is forcing Pro Bowlers from the Colts and Saints to make a special trip to Miami ahead of their teams and stand on the sidelines for the first half of the game, instead of preparing for the Super Bowl, which is only the main goal of every player in the league, except for Me-O. It’s asinine to torpedo your championship game so that an exhibition can have a little more tube appeal for espn. The NFL can try to spin this any way it wants, but it loses big. Let’s hope Goodell has the brains and guts to reverse field next season.

-EH-

Time to Win? Time to Defend

2010-01-22T07:49:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Because Cowboy Quarterback is slapping backsides and just plain having a great time playing the game again, be prepared to be overwhelmed the next couple days (as if we’re not buried under already) with fawning accounts of how a 40-year old’s success in a young man’s game is a truly remarkable thing and that this weekend’s conference title games revolve around the continuing drama of Brett Favre’s quest to be a champion once more.

Please wait a moment while El Hombre wipes the vomit from his chin.

Favre’s play this year has been excellent, especially after his 2008 late-season meltdown in New York, which conspiracy theorists could hypothesize was a purposeful attempt to be freed from Gotham in order to be courted by the Vikings. Favre is healthy and surrounded by some pretty impressive talent in Minnesota, even if Adrian Peterson’s rushing average is shrinking faster than a banker’s credibility. His ability to rein in that wild hair that has so often caused him to think he can fit the football into microscopic areas has meant a lot to the Vikings. And should he lead Minnesota past New Orleans this Sunday in the NFC title game, the mind boggles at the two weeks of sycophantic love letters the media will toss Favre’s way in the run-up to the Super Bowl. It’s possible espN’s Rachel Nichols will be reduced to reporting on Number Four’s teeth-brushing habits (“Floss first, then circular rotations with the brush, followed by substantial gum stimulation”) as game time approaches.

As well as Favre has played, and as impressive as the other QBs – Drew Brees, Peyton Manning, Mark Sanchez – have been in leading their teams to the Final Four, each squad has achieved its success primarily because of defense and (with the exception of Indianapolis) the ground game. The NFL is a passing league, and this year more QBs have attempted at least 500 passes than ever before. More have thrown for at least 4,000 yards. And a record amount completed 65% of their passes. And yet, when the winning must be accomplished, the big, nasty people get it done.

In their win over Arizona, the Saints rushed for 171 yards and forced two turnovers. They held the mighty Cardinal attack to just 14 points and just about knocked Kurt Warner into retirement. For a minute, it appeared as if the game was going feature more scoring than a Tiger Woods golf weekend, but after Bobby McCray pole-axed Warner, it turned into a one-sided affair. Later that night, the Colts held Baltimore to 270 total yards, pounced on four Raven gaffes and limited them to a mere 12 first downs. Indy didn’t run it, but then again, with Manning under center you don’t worry about that. One interesting thing about the game was that there has been precious little national outcry about the final seconds of the first half, when the clock operator ran off just two seconds on a Manning pass, allowing the Colts to run another play, instead of going for a field goal before intermission. The resulting TD made it 17-3 and effectively ended the game. Baltimore coach John Harbaugh went bats about the slow clock, but nobody did anything about it, and CBS did not show a replay with a real-time clock on the screen. Hmmm. It couldn’t be that the network didn’t want to expose a crucial gaffe – if a more reasonable four seconds had run off the clock, Indy probably would have tried a field goal with 0:05 to go, instead of going for the TD with 0:07 left – and embarrass the NFL, could it? That might not help things during the next TV contract negotiations.

The next afternoon, Minnesota rushed for 109 yards, held Dallas to a total of 248 and sacked besieged Tony Romo six times, to gain a measure of revenge from the 1975 Drew Pearson push-off game at venerable Metropolitan Stadium. Capping off the Cowgirls’ pathetic performance was Keith Brookings’ crybaby performance. The veteran linebacker screamed at the Viking bench after Minnesota’s final touchdown, a three-yard Favre pass, with less than 2:00 remaining. Were the game played between two junior-high teams, Brookings would have had a gripe about the Vikes’ running it up. Since it was contested between highly paid professionals, Brookings needed to keep his mouth shut and lick his wounds. Capping off the weekend, New York rushed for 169 yards, forced two turnovers and limited San Diego to 4-of-13 success on third down in its upset win. Afterward, Chargers coach Norv Turner reminded everybody of how many games his team has won in December – and nobody cared.

Notice a pattern here? All four of the teams were stingy. They suffocated the opposition and made it easier for the offense to do its job. That’s how you win in the post-season, not with fun and fancy aerial attacks and visionary offensive coordinators. Hunker down and smash some heads. That’s playoff football.

Favre may get all the glory if Minnesota gets to Miami, but he would be smart to direct the flattery toward the angry, oversized men on the other side of the ball. After all, he has to practice against them.

Now a few words about last week: It didn’t happen.

You may not have much faith in El Hombre’s predicting abilities about now, but that’s when you’ll find him to be the most dangerous – in a good way.

Indianapolis (minus 7 ½) over New York. EH was wrong about the Jets. Real wrong. Coach Rex Ryan’s team has been outstanding in the playoffs, displaying a tremendous ground attack and rugged D. Well, you can’t be one-dimensional at this level, and Sanchez isn’t ready to make big plays against the quick Colts defense. Meanwhile, nobody is better at sniffing out crazy blitz schemes than Manning. Colts 23, Jets 13.

Minnesota (plus 3 ½) over New Orleans. When Romo drops back to pass in the Cowboys’ first mini-camp of the coming spring, he’s going to expect a purple-clad defender to be charging at him. The Viking pass rush is relentless, and that’s going to force Brees to keep some extra people in for protection. That’s not good. Meanwhile, Favre, Adrian Peterson and wideout Sidney Rice will find plenty of holes in the Saints defense. Minnesota 27, New Orleans 23.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: By now, many of you have heard about the knuckle-dragger down in Georgia who wants to start a whites-only professional basketball league down South. (Surprise!) Can’t wait to see the wide-wail corduroy warm-up pants. And nothing says basketball excitement than an “alley” without the “oop.” How about those cheerleaders in turtlenecks, monogrammed sweaters and tartan-print skirts? Sexy! The WBL (Whitey Basketball League) – it’s Bland-tastic!...Let’s hear it for Boston College linebacker Mark Herzlich, who is back practicing with his teammates after a bout with Ewing’s Sarcoma, a rare cancer that usually hits young adults. Herzlich is cancer-free and ready to play in 2010. Let’s hope the only obstacles he faces from here on out are angry blockers…You have to love NASCAR. Ratings sag and attendance drops, and how does the left-turn set react? By loosening safety restrictions and encouraging drivers to bump and bang each other around the oval. Genius. What’s next, rules that allow drivers to pack heat? Forget El Hombre suggested that. It’s just the kind of idea that might catch on with that group…The ejection of 11 disorderly Croats from an Australian Open match this week has shined the light on tennis hooligans. Could there be a crazier juxtaposition? What’s next, riots at curling matches? Unruly patrons at dressage competitions? And they say Philadelphia fans are tough.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? On the surface, the Phillies’ decision to lock up Joe Blanton for three years is a good one, because it gives them four starters – Blanton, Roy Halladay, Cole Hamels, J.A. Happ – on the books through the 2012 season. And since Blanton has thrown more than 1,000 innings over the past five seasons, his presence in the lineup almost guarantees 200 IP each season, not bad for a third or fourth starter. But the question we need to ask is whether three seasons of Heavy B trump one year of Cliff Lee. In essence, that’s the deal the Phils have struck by telling us they couldn’t afford $9 to Lee this year but they could pay Blanton $24 mil (7, 8.5, 8.5) over the next three. This appears to be the hallmark of a team that is trying to maintain its perch as a contender without going for the brass ring. If Hamels does not rebound to ’08 levels this year, and Blanton’s arm betrays him from overuse, 2010 could be a mess for the Phils, particularly if the expected troubles at the number five spot in the rotation – neither Pop-Pop Moyer nor Kyle Kendrick inspires – arise. Pairing Lee with Halladay in the rotation this year, even if it meant cutting loose Blanton, would create a dynamic pairing atop the rotation that no other team could match. Instead of doing that, the Phillies are trying to protect their backsides with Blanton’s solid but hardly spectacular work, a sophomore (Happ) who could fall apart easily now that hitters know him, and the mystery that is Hamels. If the staff doesn’t come around as the Phils hope, that lineup had better be ready to score seven a night – and then some.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Tiger Woods’ arrival at a sex-addiction clinic was as predictable as ridiculously low scores at this weekend’s Bob Hope Classic. If you follow the textbook definition of an addiction – risk-taking, willingness to give up your family, career and reputation to feed it – Woods definitely has a problem, as his smaller checkbook, fleeing sponsors and disappearing wife and kids prove. But it’s hard not to see his checking in (allegedly) to the treatment center as the first step in a calculated move back to playing again. One would imagine a sniffling appearance on Oprah will follow, with interviews by handpicked espn and 60 Minutes correspondents on the menu as well. A tightly regulated press conference comes next and finally a return to the links. If Woods has a problem, let’s hope he can be helped. But if he’s just going through some P.R. plan to generate sympathy from the media and fans, then shame on him. Again.

-EH-

There's No Crying In Baseball, Mark

2010-01-15T13:05:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

The big winner in Mark McGwire’s recent media tour in support of his new contrition over a decade of steroid use is Kleenex, because every time he speaks these days, the tears tend to flow. If we didn’t know Big Mac had hired former Bush press secretary Ari Fleisher to be his Big Flak, one would think he had stolen a page from the Dick Vermeil Drama Handbook. McGwire has produced so much saline solution in the past couple days, officials in Kazakhstan have proposed using him to help replenish the shrinking Aral Sea.

Give McGwire credit for one thing: Unlike other members of baseball’s Shameless Generation, he at least admitted to using the stuff more than once or twice (Andy Pettitte) or accidentally (Balco Bonds). There was no talk of flaxseed oil or B-12 shots. No irresponsible dentists or “personal health issues.” McGwire juiced, and he admits it. For that, he deserves a gold star.

But like his fellow drug cheats, McGwire qualifies his apology, and that’s where all the goodwill begins to stagnate like spilled can of Blatz souring in the searing summer sun. He claims his 10 years of abuse were not designed to improve his play, even though the label on the box he got at Steroids R Us clearly stated that the product was a “performance enhancing drug.” Nope, McGwire was merely using the stuff (for some reason, he can’t remember the name of the substance, despite a decade of use) to stay healthy and remain in the lineup. Everything else came straight off the shelves at God, Inc.

The technical term for this type of elusive behavior is “steaming pile of crap,” but to a layman, McGwire is simply rationalizing his actions and trying to get us to buy into the sham. Forget that his home runs per at-bat dropped from 14.0 to 8.4 during his peaking juicing – a 40% decrease. Forget that he wouldn’t have come near his final total of 583 dingers without the drugs. And forget that it was ultimately the steroids that ended his career by contributing to classic P.E.D. injuries in his back and knees. (Parents, feel free to use this last one with the kids as a textbook definition of irony. Or, you can stick with the Tiger-Woods-getting-smacked-by-a-golf-club example.)

McGwire juiced to hit more home runs. To hit longer home runs. They may have helped him stay healthy, but their primary result was to allow him to craft a mammoth, sculpted frame with more power, speed and endurance. He sure could hit the ball before the juice, but he hit it further, more frequently and with more jaw-dropping majesty once he started abusing drugs. The resulting 135 taters in 1998-99 were to be his ticket to immortality. Now, they are black marks in a baseball record book that has less and less credibility and the smoking guns in a career that was a product of cheating.

By copping to steroid use, McGwire is hoping to ease his return to the game as a hitting coach for the Cardinals. That will probably work, especially since Cards’ manager Tony LaRussa is leading the cheers for his return – and erasing any last bits of credibility he has by claiming he knew nothing about McGwire’s steroid abuse until the slugger called him earlier this week to confess. That makes LaRussa the only person in America who didn’t act like Captain Renault upon hearing McGwire’s “revelation.” But let’s hope those who vote for the Hall of Fame aren’t snowed by the well-crafted act of contrition, no matter how much the slugger paid for it. McGwire’s success is directly related to continued, deliberate steroid use. He wouldn’t have thrived as he did without the drugs, so his candidacy for immortality should not even be considered. He said he was sorry, and that’s a good step. He also said he wished he had never played in the “Steroid Era.” Maybe he should have thought of that before he started sticking needles in his butt – or having Jose Canseco do it for him.

Speaking of Canseco, is anybody ever going to get tired of seeing the guy proven right? So far, he’s like Rocky Marciano – undefeated and untied. The guy is a bit of a crackpot (okay, he’s a big crackpot), but he has been right on about steroids. It’s a wonder baseball invertebrate Bud Sellout hasn’t put a contract out on the guy yet. The baseball that conked Canseco on the head before flying out of the park may have knocked him a little loopy, but he speaks the truth about the juice, and if he says he and McGwire had a little needle party in the clubhouse shower, then it happened. Period.

Canseco isn’t trying to get a job in Majoke League Baseball. He has no shot at the Hall of Fame, either. McGwire, on the other hand, has one and wants the other. His well-rehearsed apology might keep him in a Cardinals uniform, but in no way should it punch his ticket to Cooperstown. He didn’t tell the complete truth, and even if he did, the fact that he used steroids for a decade should serve as a ringing indictment against his candidacy. Let’s hope the Hall of Fame voters don’t soften up like the audience at a romantic comedy and admit McGwire to baseball’s Valhalla. Be vigilant, folks, and realize a cheat and manipulator when you see one.

Oh, and someone get McGwire a tissue. It looks like he’s crying. Again.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Giants Stadium is being sold, piece-by-piece. Fans can buy seats, turf and locker room items. No word on how much Jimmy Hoffa will cost…New England has cut ties with defensive coordinator Dean Pees, bringing his career with the Pats to a close and rendering unemployed the only NFL coach whose name is a full sentence…NBC is planning 835 hours of Olympics coverage, with only 820 of those devoted to figure skating. Talk about a classic case of biathlonism…With the NBA trading deadline looming next month, the rumor mill has started its annual churn. The most interesting name being mentioned is Tracy McGrady, the oft-injured, highly overrated Houston forward who has never won a playoff series. The best part of dealing for Me-Mac is that his bloated contract (about $21 mil) expires after this season, so it will be possible to chase some of the top free agents in this summer’s robust class. Talk about a big fall from grace. Once considered a star, Me-Mac is only coveted for his expiring contract. A cautionary tale? Nahhh. Today’s money-grubbing players don’t care, so long as they get paid.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Now that the Eagles’ season is over, the frustrated fans (you mean there are some who aren’t frustrated?) are looking for scapegoats. Instead of realizing the team just wasn’t good enough (crappy O-line, insufficient edge pass rushing, weak LBs, poor safeties) to beat Dallas, the fans’ consensus is that Donovan McNabb is responsible. He did not play well against Dallas either time in January; that’s for sure. Is he the main problem on the team? Not by a long shot. That title goes to GM Andy Reid. (As opposed to coach Andy Reid.) So, let’s get rid of him. Really. Eagles fans are so ready to have Kevin Kolb under center, so deal McNabb. The team will be doing him a favor. Ever since the blowhard from Rhode Island – via Columbia and the beach block in Sea Isle – brought a bunch of sots to New York to boo McNabb, the town has been against him. So, set him free, play Kolb and bask in the glory of 8-8 and 7-9 records. But, hey, at least there will be a change. And that’s what Eagles fans crave. Meanwhile, let’s see what McNabb can do with a legitimate commitment to the run and a good defense. The guess here is that it will be plenty.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Now for a quick word on Pete Carroll and Lane Kiffin. It’s time to stop lionizing these big-time coaches as builders of character and great molders of men. They are self-absorbed competition freaks who care about their careers first. (Second and third, too.) Any player who signs on to play for one of them had better be smart enough to understand that his best interests are nowhere near the top of these coaches’ lists of priorities. Kiffin’s decision to bolt Tennessee after one season reveals his true character. How long until he leaves Troy? If he tried to convince UT conscripts to follow him to SoCal, he should be penalized harshly by the NC2A. As for Carroll, he rebuffed one NFL entreaty after another before finally settling on Seattle. Hmmmm. That couldn’t have anything to do with the pending NC2A investigation into improper benefits received by former Trojan players, could it? Nahhh. Pete just wanted to get some good coffee and experience 275 days of rain every year. Right. One thing is certain: Kiffin certainly learned well during his time under Carroll. If you can root for ‘SC or the Seahawks, you have a strong stomach.

* * *

ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Now for the picks. The “good” news is that El Hombre went 2-2 against the spread (thank you, Ravens and Cowboys) last week. The ugliness comes from the 1-3 money-line performance. It’s time to get healthy.
SATURDAY:
Arizona (plus 7) over New Orleans: The Old Man has it cooking like he did back in the Arena Football League days, and the Cards don’t seem to mind how many points the other team scores. The Saints stumbled home during the regular season but should outscore the Cards in a thriller. New Orleans 41, Arizona 38.
Baltimore (plus 6 ½) over Indianapolis. The Ravens looked great pillaging the crippled Pats last week, but Indy is another story. Baltimore QB Joe Flacco isn’t playing well enough to hold up his end on offense, and MVP Peyton Manning is rested and ready to work his magic. It will be close, but Indy breaks its streak of losing playoff openers after bye weeks. Indianapolis 20, Baltimore 16.
SUNDAY:
Dallas (plus 3) over Minnesota. I don’t care if Brett Favre is undefeated in the Big Mall this season, because Dallas is the NFC’s best team. After an afternoon of Cowboy pressure, Favre might just throw a punch at coach Brad Childress. Expect this year’s teary-eyed retirement press conference on Tuesday. Dallas 24, Minnesota 17.
San Diego (minus 7 ½) over New York. Okay, so El Hombre was wrong about the Jets last week, although it would have been nice if Cincinnati had shown just a little guts before lying down. But the Jets won’t make it two straight, not against the NFL’s hottest team. Phillip Rivers takes another step toward elite status with a convincing performance. San Diego 23, New York 10.

-EH-

Keep the Carnage Coming

2010-01-08T08:11:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

You have to love the NFL. The same league that has spent the past several years doing its best to tell us there is no link between repeated shots to the head by angry 300-pounders and future brain damage is now hoping to entice coaches to keep players in harm’s way during late-season contests, even if their teams have absolutely nothing to gain from the games. Seems the league is worried about the product on the field and giving fans the best value for their ticket dollar. Well, tell all that to Wes Welker and the Patriots.

For those of you who don’t arrange their lives around the NFL – and if you don’t, the league’s assassins will find you – Welker tore two knee ligaments (Good news! He still has one intact) Sunday in the Pats’ finale, which meant as much to New England as gun control legislation does to Gilbert Arenas. (More on that chowderhead later.) Now New England will enter the post-season without its top receiver (Don’t even try to give El Hombre Randy Moss), and Welker has the very real possibility of spending the remainder of his career as a shadow of his former self. But, hey, at least the fans got to see the first-stringers! Right. See how that plays during the post-season as the Pats try to win a Super Bowl without a stalwart.

This whole thing began because Colts’ coach Jim Caldwell decided it was a good idea to keep Peyton Manning away from the Jets’ pass rush, which resembles an angry beehive. By doing that, he surrendered the chance to “make history” by going 19-0. What he was really doing was preserving the most important single asset in the league and assuring the Colts that they won’t have to see backup QB Matt Painter do anything during the post-season except warm up. And even that is frightening for Indy fans.

Anybody who watched Texas fall apart in the wake of QB Colt McCoy’s injury Thursday night knows what can happen to a contender when it loses its top player. The Longhorns eventually rallied and showed some heart, but they didn’t have enough to beat Alabama. Without Manning, the Colts don’t win a playoff game. No way.

Caldwell’s decision was roundly criticized by the “historians” who analyze the NFL’s every heartbeat. By resting Manning, even though the Colts had a five-point third-quarter lead when the quarterback sat down, Caldwell was forfeiting a chance at immortality. Had Manning’s knee been turned to oatmeal by a blitzing linebacker, Caldwell would have been torn apart for exposing the QB to marauding defenders, in the name of self-aggrandizement. In other words, it was an untenable position, and Caldwell made the choice he thought would give his team the best chance to win a Super Bowl title. (Again, have you seen Matt Painter play?)

In the coming weeks and months, we’ll hear all sorts of things designed to guard the league’s image and give the fans their “money’s worth.” Commissioner Roger Goodell might offer up extra draft picks to teams who have already clinched playoff berths or secured seeding positions that nonetheless continue to expose their stars to maiming. At the same time, Goodell will be trying to goad the union into adding another one or two games to an already-bloated regular season schedule, injuries and future damage be damned. If there is a revenue stream available, you can bet the NFL will mine it until every last crumb of gold is found.

Of course, no one will say anything about protecting the players, who endure multiple 10-car pileups every week. Sounds about right for the league that still tries to convince us that repeated shots to the melon have no long-term effect. Maybe those making the decisions in New York have absorbed a few of those themselves. They still know how to count the money, though. That always seems to be a possibility in the NFL.

Now for the moment you have waited for: This week’s picks.

Cincinnati (minus-2 ½) over New York. Chad Ochocrazy was shut down last week in the Meadowlands. It’s not happening again. New York coach Rex Ryan thinks his team is the Super Bowl favorite. He should remember that his pop, Buddy, never won a playoff game. It might run in the family. Bengals 24, Jets 14.

Dallas (minus-4) over Philadelphia. Say what you want about how hard it is to beat a team three times in the season. That only holds when the opponent has something going for it. The Eagles O-line is a mess, and its linebacking corps needs federal disaster relief. Cowboys 23, Eagles 16.

Baltimore (plus-3 ½) over New England. The Raven ground attack looks great, and the Baltimore defense is nasty once again. The Patriots will certainly miss Welker, and even if they win, it won’t be by much. Patriots 21, Ravens 20.

Green Bay (plus 2 ½) over Arizona. Last year, the Cardinals came alive in the post-season and shocked everybody. That was then. Packers QB Aaron Rodgers is ready for his coming-out party, and Green Bay has a nasty D. Packers 27, Cardinals 14.

* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Tiger Woods appears shirtless and buffed on the cover of the recent Vanity Fair, a photo taken before his Skanko-Roman wrestling ways were revealed. Wonder if he plans to use the picture to attract chicks?...If Mike Leach did half of what he is accused of at Texas Tech, his firing was warranted, no matter how annoying the kid was. You can’t treat players like that, especially those whose daddies are espn broadcasters. Next time, lock the son of Mr. & Mrs. Nobody from Busted Boil, TX, in an equipment shed. Then again, given Leach’s love of pirates, it’s a wonder he didn’t make the young man walk the plank…Los Angeles Clippers broadcaster Michael Smith is accused of bilking a golfing buddy out of a cool $735,000 by convincing him to use his home as collateral for a loan on a development deal that went bad. The news isn’t all awful for the team, since given its oft-shaky defense, it’s good that somebody associated with the Clippers might be trying to steal something…There are reports that a “friendly” match between the U.S. and Mexican national soccer teams in Pasadena has been scrubbed over a dispute between Telemundo and Univision, each of which want to televise the game. But that’s only part of it. The real problem came when Rose Bowl officials mandated that Mexican fans could only bring in three bags of urine apiece to throw at the American players. Mexican fans wanted to bring nine…If Wizards guard Gilbert Arenas is suspended for a long period of time, he might just want to consider competing for a spot on the U.S. Olympic biathlon team. He could pair with teammate Javaris Crittenton, who might have some free time on his hands soon, too.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Admit it, you’re one of those Philadelphia fans who is secretly hoping the Eagles lose to Dallas Saturday, so the Donovan McNabb “era” can end. Or if you’re not, you know someone who is. You might get your wish, because the Birds don’t look like they have much hope at False Face’s pleasure dome, thanks to a defense that’s giving up points faster than espn can come out with new gimmicks (a 3-D channel?) and an offensive line that has the same cohesion as Charlie Sheen’s marriage. Those two were huge culprits in last week’s loss to the Cowboys, but few chose to look at it that way. It was all McNabb’s fault. And if the Birds lose this weekend – or next, or the one after that – there will a huge cry for Number Five’s dismissal. Maybe the vultures get their wish granted, and if they do, they had better be careful, because Kevin Kolb isn’t necessarily the answer, and teams without good QBs (see Bears, Chicago, among others) don’t win the Super Bowl and get a “prade” for “long-suffering” fans.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: NBA commissioner Uncle David Stern did the right thing by taking Arenas out of action, and he should not be swayed by the meathead’s recent remorseful statements regarding his gun shenanigans when deciding his ultimate punishment. Arenas still doesn’t think he did anything wrong, and that’s despicable. Stern should hammer Arenas hard by removing him from action for the rest of the year – without pay. And since attempting to void the rest of his contract would cause an uproar from the union, the next labor negotiations should establish clear penalties for those who bring firearms into a locker room or any other team-related area: minimum one-year suspensions and the end of their contracts. Stern needs to make examples of both Arenas and Wild West partner Javaris Crittenton, so the league reputation doesn’t revert to its 1970s version, when everybody thought the league was filled with renegades.

* * *

ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It is with a heavy heart that El Hombre reports the passing of a true American hero and a loyal EH reader, Bill “Bitsy” Grant, who succumbed to cancer Tuesday at the age of 85. Bill was a walking 20th century history book, having survived the Great Depression, World War II (Normandy landing, Battle of the Bulge, historic meeting with Soviet troops in Germany) and perhaps most demanding, raising eight children. A loyal Hawk who graduated from Saint Joseph’s thanks to his hard work, smarts and the G.I. Bill, Bill later became a successful advertising executive. Bill was a devout Catholic and searched until his last days for the answers to life’s tough questions, never once expressing his frustration at how elusive that pursuit was. He loved the Phillies, golf, mystery novels, anything to do with St. Joe’s and his family. It took no cajoling whatsoever to elicit a rousing rendition of “The Night Paddy Murphy Died” from him at family gatherings, and woe to anybody who was caught behind him at the dessert table. Bill was a gentleman, an exemplary father and grandfather and a great friend. He will be missed greatly.

-EH-

The Right Choice

2009-12-11T08:14:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

When El Abuelo went to his first and only bullfight, he rooted for the bull, not only because the poor animal was clearly a double-digit underdog, but because it was the right thing to do. The rest of the stadium was pulling for the torero, hoping to see a precise kill. But not El Abuelo. He was impressed by el toro’s power and dignity. And of course, he was disappointed. The bull went down like the victim of a mob hit. It was bloody, ruthless and stunningly final.

It may be hard to believe, given his steel-encased 6-foot, 4-inch, 300-pound frame, but Ndamukong Suh is the bull in the Heisman Trophy race, both metaphorically and in a literal sense. Watching him terrorize those old boys from Texas – not to mention anyone else unlucky enough to have lined up across from him the past two seasons – was like seeing Mark Mangino tear though the Sizzler buffet. Oh, the humanity. In a year when no traditional (read: Offensive) candidate stood out in the Heisman sweepstakes, discerning voters had the opportunity to take a good look at the player who best fit the mandate found on every ballot: “We are truly grateful for your support in selecting the most outstanding college football player in the United States (El Hombre’s italics) for 2009.”

That would be Suh, no question about it. The other finalists had great years, to be sure, but “most outstanding” status belongs to those who truly distinguish themselves as performing well above the usual. That’s the trouble with awards these days. They often go to the person who has the best press agent or the loudest TV foof blithering about his greatness. At this point, we have heard so much about the majesty of Tim Tebow that it’s a wonder he hasn’t been beatified, with only a couple miracles – one of them could be a card trick – standing between him and sainthood. (Word is Sixers GM Billy King prays daily to Tebow to get another job, and should an NBA team hire him, that will definitely qualify as the QB’s first miracle.) What is conveniently omitted from the Tebow mythology is that he hasn’t had a dominant season. His numbers (2,413 yards passing, 18 TDs, five ints., 859 yards rushing, 13 TDs) are impressive but not dominant. Tebow didn’t overwhelm people they way he did in ’07, when he won the Heisman by accounting for a knee-buckling 55 touchdowns (23 rushing, 32 passing). He was great and led the Gators to a perfect regular season, but he wasn’t the most outstanding player out there.

Texas QB McCoy had a fine season, too, throwing for 3,512 yards and 27 TDs. But he threw 12 picks and didn’t show so well against the only two stout defenses he faced. In games versus Oklahoma and Nebraska, McCoy was a pedestrian 41-of-75 (54.7%), for 311 yards, a touchdown and four picks. About the only thing Heisman-like about that combined effort was that it appeared as if McCoy was throwing with a stiff arm.

It’s going to be tough for a lot of voters to eliminate those two from contention, since as quarterbacks, the hold the ball longer than anyone else and are clearly visible for the myopic, who conveniently forget there are 21 other players on the field with the QB. They’re the types who believe multi-tasking is eating a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich.

The running back crop is pretty impressive this season. In fact, two of them received my second and third-place votes. But as strong as Toby Gerhart and Mark Ingram were this season, neither was the type of player who made you call friends during games to talk in amazement about this play or that move. Gerhart was the closest to that of any ballcarrier, but it’s possible part of his amazement quotient was due to the fact that finding white tailbacks these days is practically impossible, unless you’re haunting the New England Small College Athletic Conference. EH compadre Raging Bill refers to the Caucasian tailback as the “passenger pigeon,” since that species is long extinct. While Gerhart does have some peers, he is a rarity, though he was practically unstoppable in Stanford’s final four games, when he averaged 185.5 yards/contest and scored 13 touchdowns. Pretty impressive, but let’s not get carried away.

Same goes for Ingram, who finished 12th in the nation in rushing. His 1,542 yards and 15 touchdowns are certainly strong performances, and he did come up big in the SEC title game against Florida, rushing for 113 yards and three scores, but let’s be serious here. We’re looking for the “most outstanding” player, not just someone who plays well. Consider some of the other running backs who have won the Heisman. Barry Sanders rushed for 2,628 yards and 37 touchdowns. (Gulp!) Marcus Allen gained 2,342. Ricky Williams picked up 2,327 and scored 29 times. Mike Rozier had 2,148 yards and 29 scores. Bo Jackson: 1,786 yards and 6.4 yards/attempt. And they all did it in 11 games. Gerhart and Ingram are great college players, but they are not Heisman-worthy.

Suh is. His numbers bear it out, which is extremely rare for a defensive tackle. Most of the time, those guys are anonymous, content to – and praised for – earn their side of beef by commanding double and triple-teams and let someone else earn the glory. They are most often found beneath six hundred pounds or so of offensive linemen while linebackers and strong safeties accumulate the stats. Not Suh. Not only did he lead Nebraska in tackles for the second straight year, a remarkable feat, but he also piled up 23 tackles for loss, 12 sacks, three blocked kicks, 24 QB hurries, 10 batted-down passes and an interception. But the numbers are only part of it. Because of Suh’s dominance, the entire Husker defensive unit thrived. Take fellow D-tackle Jared Crick. He had a huge year, all right, with 15 tackles behind the line and 9.5 sacks, and is plenty talented. But as one coach who watched the Huskers devastate the potent Texas attack said, “Crick’s like the guy who rooms with the good-looking guy and gets a bunch of girls because of the roommate.” That may be a little bit of an overstatement, but without Suh’s attracting so much attention, there’s no way Crick produces what he did. And there’s no way Nebraska comes within a second of the Big 12 title. You want outstanding? You want Suh.

This year, the bull wins.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: El Hombre certainly doesn’t condone any kind of anti-Semitic behavior, like the taunting that took place during the Harvard-Dartmouth squash match last week, but you have to admit that it’s rather amusing that when we discuss bad behavior at big schools, it’s usually surrounding football or basketball. In the Ivies, it’s squash. Somebody needs to teach Biff and Chip some manners…If it’s December, then the Cowboys are choking. That’s a darn shame…The early rollout of the stupid Nike LeBron and Kobe puppet ad campaign is bad news for people who prefer to remain sane. This means seven more months of that nonsense. Make it stop, please!...Is there anything more ridiculous than espn’s touting that its sportscenter broadcasts are coming to us from Los Angeles? Who cares if they’re spewing their nauseating brew of synergized highlights, self-promotion and canned crowd noise from a ger in Ulan Bator, just as long as we find out (eventually) the score of the game? Just another reason the network is about as far away from its groundbreaking roots as Michael Jackson was from his Jackson 5 days.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The decision to extend Andy Reid’s
contract hasn’t been too well received among Eagles fans, and that’s not hard to believe, given the brainwashing that has been done about how the city of Philadelphia “deserves” a parade (pronounced locally as “prade”) and how a Super Bowl is the only way to measure success. Of course, many of these people think it’s a good idea to replace Donovan McNabb with Kevin Kolb. Yes, Reid is a borderline boob when it comes to clock management. He also has some serious splotches on his resume, like the ’02 NFC title game loss to Tampa Bay, and his decision not to go with the no-huddle attack during the last seven minutes of the Super Bowl loss to New England. But his successes far outweigh those failures. He’s one of only four (four!) coaches ever to win 100 games in a decade with the same team. He has brought the Eagles to the playoffs seven of the 10 seasons he has coached the Eagles and has won a post-season game every year. His teams almost always get better as the season goes on, and he has even improved as a GM, as his recent moves to upgrade the offense have shown. Reid is imperfect, and he clearly doesn’t like the media (so what?), but he has done an admirable job so far. Now, if he doesn’t get over the hump by the time this deal is done, it’s time to move on. But Reid deserved the extension, and those who want to see him go should be very wary of what might come next.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Let’s get something straight: Anybody who thinks Tim Donaghy didn’t try to influence the outcomes of the games he was betting has never gambled on sports. If you had money on a game, and someone said you could send somebody to the bench with foul trouble, you would do it immediately. In fact, if somebody handed you a gun with a single bullet in it and said you could use it at any point in the game, don’t think for a minute you wouldn’t consider kneecapping a player to guarantee a cover. We didn’t believe Pete Rose, and we shouldn’t believe Donaghy. He deserves a chance to rebuild his life, but we don’t have to buy his story. It just doesn’t add up.

* * *

ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It is a testament to the corporate world’s “conscience” that sponsors are not jumping off the Tiger Woods train in bunches. Nike, Accenture and the rest of the logos are sticking by their man for one reason: At some point, this will all burn out, and Woods will return to the links to (one would assume) keep dominating the rest of the field. When that happens, and he issues his mandatory public mea culpa – get ready for a ratings bonanza, Oprah – and undergoes some therapy and/or rehab (that Ambien can be pretty addictive), you can bet the sponsors will be happy to have remained with a man who will have become a sympathetic figure. If Woods plays it right, he will be able to able to regain his former prominent perch, provided he can avoid ordering off the menu at Perkins House of Pancakes.

-EH-

It Ain't Hatin' If It's True

2009-11-13T12:14:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Back in the early 1990s, a movement started among sycophantic media and fans that branded anyone with the temerity to criticize an athlete a “hater,” particularly if said performer was talented and entertaining. A cottage industry of products, publications and videos sprouted, celebrating pure ability and shucking aside inconvenient sporting tenets like team play and fundamentals. If someone could thrill, that was enough. Failure to lionize that was a sin punished by ridicule from fawning supporters, who deemed the critics unable to recognize the new way and branded them hopelessly old school and out of touch.

One of the faces among the vanguard of this new phenomenon was Allen Iverson, whom the Sixers drafted first overall in 1996. The jet-quick guard was a powerful intoxicant for the new fan order. He dazzled with his talent. He scored in bunches. He even looked the part, what with his ever-expanding canvas of body art, myriad hairstyles and ubercasual wardrobe. If there was anybody who was begging to be “hated,” it was Iverson.

There were indeed some people who couldn’t stand him for how he looked. There were plenty of people who couldn’t handle such an out-front manifestation of the hip-hop culture. To them, Iverson’s look – ball cap askew, oversized sweater/sweatshirt, baaaaaggy jeans, Tims – was an insult to society and proof that the rap culture was not only infiltrating everyday society but threatening it. Of course, we heard the same thing in the ‘70s, when Bill Walton was wearing tie-dyed shirts, growing that mangy beard of his and leaving tickets for Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir at Trailblazers games.

Those who protested Iverson’s look weren’t going to debate his basketball worth honestly. To them, he was a nightmare in high-tops and an emblem of the league’s imminent demise. They were every bit as unreasonable as the Other Side, which glorified Iverson’s talent, to whatever end he put it, and labeled anyone who dared to criticize him as a “hater.”

The short story of Iverson’s time in Philadelphia goes like this: Lots of points, lots of excitement, one thrilling playoff run, plenty of acrimony with coaches, the legendary “Practice?!” rant and a departure a year or two too late. Since that time, he has played for Denver, Detroit and (briefly) Memphis, with sketchy, unsatisfying results. Today, he sits at home, ostensibly sorting out “personal matters,” but mostly pouting over his role as a reserve on the dog-ass Grizzlies. Iverson still believes he should be a front-line NBA star. The apologists out there who care little about winning basketball agree.

Anybody who knows the game, and that includes executives from the 29 teams who wouldn’t go near Iverson, think differently. And therein lies the problem with Iverson today and throughout his career. It has always been about him and only him. Never once has he volunteered to sublimate his own numbers for the good of the franchise. Just as he thinks he has never committed a foul in his life (try to find a time when he was called for one and didn’t complain), Iverson is not about to listen to anybody who says he must adapt in order to be attractive to teams. To him, basketball is a game about scoring points, and if Iverson gets 40 minutes and 20 shots a night, he can produce big numbers. Whether that helps a team win or not has nothing to do with it. Nothing.

Back in the fall of 1997, El Hombre was at Big East basketball media day in New York. In a cramped hotel ballroom, coaches from the league’s teams sat at tables and fielded questions from the media huddled around them. The crowd near John Thompson was about three deep and eager to hear everything he said. Thompson began by giving assessments of his players and the coming season, delivering answers in his bottom-of-the-well baritone. Then the topics started to veer a little, offering El Hombre the opportunity to ask about Iverson, then a second-year Sixer, and the speculation that he would eventually become a distribute-first point guard. Thompson, who had gone out of his way to get Iverson to Georgetown, to the point of visiting him in jail while Iverson served a sentence for his part in a bowling alley riot, was one of Iverson’s staunchest defenders. His comments that day reflected two years (Iverson left after his sophomore season for the NBA) of dealing with a me-first player.

“You can’t change a zebra’s stripes,” he said.

The message was clear: Iverson is a shooter first, second and third, and those who dreamed of his becoming a lethal point man were wasting their sleep time. Since that day, Iverson has proven Thompson correct every minute he has been on the floor. And now that he is clearly no longer wanted as a first (or even second) offensive option, Iverson has taken his ball and gone home. What is so amazing about this guy is that only one team wanted him during the off-season, and that was Memphis, which needed someone to put a few posteriors in the seats. Yet Iverson is acting as if he chose the Grizz from a long list of suitors. (Actually, he said at the time that “God” chose Memphis for him.) This is a guy who has become so irrelevant and proven himself to be such a detriment to a winning team that nobody wants his talents. They know he has no commitment to winning basketball, rather only to himself. And they know after this recent tantrum that he has no desire to help a team. So, Iverson sits at home and waits to hear that he’ll get a chance to start and play 40 a night. It won’t happen.

The saddest thing about all of this is that he could be a huge piece on a title team, if only he understood what it took to win. Using him 20-25 minutes a night to penetrate and kick or blast through plodding defenders on the break would be a contender’s dream. Instead of embracing that opportunity, Iverson wants to pump up his own numbers. Worse, he still has a choir of voices behind him extolling his ball-hogging virtues. If a team wanted to build around him, he would be employed. None does. So, he’s a Grizzly, solely to sell a few tickets. What did he expect?

Sorry for hatin’, Allen, but you need to get a bit of reality in your life. If you want to play in the NBA, you had better become a team player.

If you can change your stripes.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: On the surface, LeBron James’ announcement that he is giving up his number 23 in honor of Michael Jordan seems like a magnanimous gesture, but trying to get the NBA to “retire” MJ’s number pales in comparison to Majoke League Baseball’s decision to shelve Jackie Robinson’s number 42. Jordan was great, but he didn’t break barriers. If players want to choose other numbers, fine. It shouldn’t be a league mandate…Jeez, why is Roger Goodell so mean. All Chad Ochocrazy did was mention the word “bribe,” in connection with a referee, and the NFL commissioner slapped him with a $20,000 fine. He was just having some fun, is all. Right. Shut your mouth, Chad, and write the check…How tough must the last 10 years have been for Jim Riggleman? He can’t stop telling people how happy he is to be a manager again after a decade out of the main chair, but he’s leading the Nationals. That’s barely an MLB team. Things must have been pretty tough, Jim…The NASCAR Chase for the Cup is getting wilder and wilder, thanks to Jimmie Johnson’s problems in Texas last week. Why, if things get any more exciting, the other 90% of the country might start paying attention. Might.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Phillies’ decision to let Pedro Feliz go, rather than pay him $5.5 million next season (there was a $500,000 buyout), is risky business. Although we have heard about all the candidates for third base out there, few could be considered an upgrade. Those who are may cost too much. Placido Polanco will be 34 and is coming off a shaky season. Plus, he has played two games at third since leaving Philadelphia. Chone Figgins hit five homers last year and wants about a five-year, $50 million deal. We’re not sure how old Miggy Tejada is. Adrian Beltre has injury questions and a huge price tag. Mark DeRosa is a possible solution, but he might be better as a utility bench guy. Yes, Feliz didn’t hit lefties well, but he’s a strong fielder who knocked in 82 runs from the seven spot last year. Even if the Phils bring him back at a discount, will be he be upset, and perhaps hurt the team’s chemistry? The team gets a huge benefit of the doubt for what it has done the past two years, but this was a curious start to the post-season.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: In his never-ending quest to show how ridiculous the BCS (Big College Swindle) El Hombre submits this week’s polls as exhibits S and T. One week after tearing apart the USC defense for 613 total yards in a 47-20 romp, Oregon lost to Stanford. So, the Mensa candidates who vote in the Harris and USA Today polls decided to drop the Ducks four (Harris) and six (USA) spots behind the Trojans, even though the teams have identical records and Oregon thumped ‘SC. USC’s win over Arizona State last week wasn’t even all that impressive, so it’s impossible to say the Trojans rebounded in style. It’s heinous that the world’s greatest sport is being hijacked by a “system” best suited for chimpanzee skateboard racing.

-EH-

What A Season It Was

2009-11-06T06:55:00.000-08:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

There is always a temptation to focus on the outcome of a long journey, rather than the process of reaching the destination. If you drive for hours to watch a game, reveling in the company and discussion along the way, little of that is remembered if the contest’s outcome is dissatisfying. Over the river and through the woods is no fun – in retrospect – if the turkey is overcooked, and the eggnog is sour. No matter how much enjoyment can be found along the way, if the end doesn’t measure up, the whole production suffers.

That’s particularly true in sports. No matter how much enjoyment a team provides throughout a long, arduous season, if the odyssey doesn’t end in a championship, fans find it hard to deem the campaign a success. Think Patriots supporters remember the warm glow of 18-0, or the misery of their Super Bowl loss? Ask the folks from Oklahoma whether they think about last year’s 13-0 start or suffer nightmares of the “national title game” loss to Florida. It’s almost universal.

Winning it all is important, but sports can’t be a zero-sum game, unless you are a Pirates fan, in which case every season
is a disaster. There is one champion per sport per year. If you apply the win-it-all-or-bust theory to a 30-team league, there will be 29 sets of miserable people scattered throughout the country, with their dreams crushed week-by-week as the schedule unfolds. Or, in the case of the Browns, the minute training camp begins. For those fans fortunate enough to enjoy regular-season success, followed by playoff intensity, a win-or-bust mentality will erase any happiness created by months of relative prosperity should the trophy end up somewhere else.

It shouldn’t be that way, especially when it comes to the Phillies’ World Series loss to the Yanks. It’s right to be sad and
even a little bit angry (okay, when it comes to Brad Lidge’s meltdown in game four, mad as hell; more on that later) about the defeat, but to judge the season anything less than terrific is ridiculous. Are Philadelphia fans’ memories so short that they cannot remember the euphoria that took hold of the city after the NLCS triumph over the milquetoast Dodgers? Is it that hard to recall the sense of pride that prevailed when Cliff Lee mastered the Yankees in the first game of the World Series, in the Bronx? It remains remarkable that people who accept – and often cultivate – mediocrity in their own lives, refuse to appreciate excellence in their sports teams, even if the ultimate outcome isn’t perfectly palatable. It would have been historic and remarkable had the Phillies won a second straight Series, but they ran into a better team and couldn’t scale the final peak. For that we’re supposed to deem the season anything less than great? Come on.

Thursday night, El Hombre had a wide-ranging conversation with compadre and financial whiz Roger Ramjet. During the discourse about the Phillies and their off-season mandates, RR said something that should be remembered as fans try to put the 2009 season into perspective. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without a game to watch,” he said. There it was, crystallized in its purest form. From April until early November, the Phillies had given the city seven months of nightly enjoyment and excitement. As other Majoke League Baseball teams were rendered irrelevant one-by-one (the Nationals became meaningless in early May), the Phillies marched along, through the regular season and its highs and lows, through the playoffs and their high drama and onto baseball’s biggest stage. No matter how heartbreaking the outcome, fans cannot forget the remarkable ride. They can’t do anything but adore their heroes, even if the New York triumph ceases all ridiculous talk about “dynasties” and “greatest teams ever.” For the record, the Celtics’ 11 titles in 13 years from 1957-69 constitute a dynasty. The Yankees’ seven World Series championships from 1936-47 were dynastic. The Canadiens’ nine Stanley Cup wins from 1956-69 equaled a dynasty. The 806-year (1027-221 B.C.) Zhou rule in China, now that was a dynasty.

Anyway, the 2009 Phillies season goes into the books as giant W, despite the final shortfall. Let’s face it; as much as we wanted the Phils to knock off New York, it was rather hard to compete with the all-star laden lineup the Yanks put forth, especially with some of the small showings by previous Philadelphia stalwarts (see Hamels, Cole; Lidge, Brad; Howard, Ryan). Watching the Yankees win the World Series is like watching a rich guy buy his way out of legal trouble. There’s something antiseptic about seeing Standard Oil celebrating a stacked deck. Worse is hearing network apologists saluting the “great group of guys” and “tremendous camaraderie” the Yankees showed, when the real reason for the title was a team payroll obscene enough to generate protests from the Moral Majority.

While the Yankees plot their next move and continue to print money, the Phillies must address some questions during the off-season. In no particular order, they must find a new backup catcher (so long Paul “Master Builder” Bako), a utility infielder who doesn’t look like a Civil War re-enactor and play like a Daughter of the American Revolution, a pinch-hitter who can do more than hit one homer every Halley’s Comet sighting and a reliable middle reliever (Chad Durbin) who doesn’t find his way onto the field courtesy of some compromising photographs of the team manager and Lainie Kazan.

More important are the futures of Cole “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow” Hamels and Brad Lidge, who needs to 86 the Amish beard and find his mojo. Forget about Hamels’ comments after game three of the Series. He needs to focus on developing an effective third pitch, or he’ll never be an ace again. And Lidge needs to understand that pitchers with ERAs hovering near 8.00 don’t get to pitch for contenders. That’s why the Orioles are still in business.

Answers (we hope) to all of these questions will emerge in the coming weeks and months. For now, fans should relish the memories of a tremendous season, despite the disappointing dénouement. Things may not have ended perfectly for the Phillies, but they provided the city with one helluva ride. Think about that for a while, and you might just get something more important than a championship.

Perspective.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: People who railed about the ridiculous length of the World Series games focused on mound conversations, batters’ stepping out and various other time-wasting tactics. The real culprits were the four-minute commercial marathons that Fox unfurled between each half-inning. Add those up, and you have enough time to play five innings…U.S. skier Bode Miller has announced he will return to the slopes and take part in a “full schedule.” Of course, that means something different for him than most people in his sport. Included on the itinerary are beer pong, nightclubbing, late-night hot tub liaisons in Gstaad and maybe even some skiing…How about that Andre Agassi autobiography? There’s some strong stuff in there. Love the part about the wig. And revealing that he wore lifts to marry Brooke Shields is priceless. Could do without the information about playing while not wearing underwear, though. Now, if Gabriela Sabatini wants to write a tell-all and reveal that information, she should have at it. Now…Fox is bringing its NFL pre-game show to Afghanistan to support the troops and perhaps use Terry Bradshaw as a weapon against the enemy, but the biggest reason for the road show is that Minnesota has a bye this week, so there will be time to fill in lieu of the usual weekly posterior-polishing of Brett Favre. Undaunted by the schedule gap, espn is planning a 15-minute segment detailing Favre’s leisure-week activities, including in-depth interviews with his couch and lawnmower.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Now that the main sports season in Philadelphia has concluded, the Eagles have a chance to take the stage and capture the city’s fans – at least until pitchers and catchers report next February. A win over Dallas Sunday night would go a long way toward accomplishing that. If there is one thing that has characterized the Birds this year it has been their inconsistency. They certainly looked great trampling the overrated Giants last week, but the Cowboys are hot, and another desultory effort (Raiders, Redskins) will put the Eagles in a tough spot in the NFC East. Injuries have been a concern this year for Andy Reid’s team. So has continuity. The good news for Sunday night? Reid vs. Dallas coach Wade Phillips is a mismatch. And though it isn’t January yet, you can usually count on Tony Romo to choke it up in big games. Win this one, and the Birds’ bandwagon will be filled. Lose it, and the spring training countdown might get cranked up a couple months early.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: If NFL commissioner Roger Goodell is smart, he has begun the process of investigating the allegations that Raiders coach Tom Cable physically abused his former wife and girlfriend. And should Goodell find compelling evidence that Cable did indeed hit them, he should be fired. Goodell has been hard on players who have broken the law and acted inappropriately, and he cannot back down on Cable, if the coach indeed struck the women. There is no room for that kind of behavior in society, and there should be no tolerance for it in the NFL. We heard all about the need to preserve the league’s image when Michael Vick, Plaxico Burress, Tank Johnson and Pac-man Jones were being disciplined, and rightly so. The league’s image is at stake in this situation, also. If Cable did it, he must go. That’s all there is to it. Goodell needs to find out what has happened and act quickly, or his credibility as a law-and-order commissioner will take a hit, and the NFL will look like an organization that condones physical abuse of women.

-EH-

King Cole's Crossroads

2009-10-30T11:49:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Last year this time, Cole Hamels could have walked into the office of Mayor Michael Nutter and demanded to be made dictator of Philadelphia, and Nutter would have had to comply. Hamels could have insisted city residents wear Cowboys jerseys, sing “Meet the Mets” as the recessional hymn at any church service in the area and replace the statue of William Penn atop City Hall with a bust of Terrell Owens, and no one would have argued. Such is the power of a World Series MVP.

What a difference a year makes.

Hamels may be the reigning World Series MVP, but his star has faded considerably in the eyes of Phillies fans, who approach his start in Game Three of the series against Big Brother with more than a mild sense of trepidation. In the interval between his outstanding performance last October against the Mephistopheles Rays and Saturday night at 7:57, Hamels has resembled only sporadically the dominant ace who propelled a team to its first world championship in 28 years. In fact, Hamels goes to the mound as the fourth or fifth-best starter, in many minds, on the Phillies, given his travails this season, which have included a lack of control, the inability to finish off good hitters, a drop in velocity, a propensity for reacting to small bursts of misfortune by throwing tantrums and losing focus and generally resembling a struggling young pitcher, rather than an established ace.

Instead of using last year’s prosperity to vault him among the game’s elite pitchers, Hamels has instead regressed. Some believe he is injured, and if that is the case, he deserves a huge benefit of the doubt for putting up more than 205 innings in a compromised state. But Hamels and the Phillies insist he is healthy, and given his history, that’s easy to believe, because Hamels has never been known for his high threshold of pain. No, this is likely something different – and more troubling. Hamels’ season has been characterized by bursts of strong pitching, interspersed with nightmarish sequences in which the runs pile up, sometimes both occurring in the same game. Worse, Hamels often reacts to these worrisome stretches by melting, rather than rallying. His most noteworthy bit of distemper came during the NLCS, when he stalked about the mound area after Chase Utley threw a ball past Ryan Howard that would have completed a double play. Hamels then punctuated the outburst by throwing his mitt in the dugout after the inning was completed.

Beyond the obvious inability to control his emotions, Hamels’ eruption demonstrates something more disturbing. Talented, confident athletes usually respond to misfortune by hunkering down and taking control. By acting out, Hamels betrayed a lack of self-assurance, as if he were acknowledging that he is working on a thin margin and anything unexpected could derail whatever progress he had accumulated. He wasn’t just petulant; he was insecure. That self-doubt is what has to concern Phillies fans more than anything else, and one must believe it’s why skipper Charlie Manuel chose to pitch Hamels against Microsoft at home, rather than in The House That Avarice Built. Hamels has thrown better in front of the Philadelphia crowd than he has on the road this season, and Manuel is doing everything he can to create an atmosphere conducive to a strong start.

It’s not like he hasn’t had some success this year. In five starts from Aug. 26 to Sept. 17, Hamels went 3-1 with a 1.45 ERA, struck out 38 and walked just seven. It was right out of the October, 2008 catalog, when Hamels went 4-0 in five starts, with an ERA of 1.80, 35 Ks and nine walks. And it reinforced that Hamels is likely not hurt. More than anything, he is lacking a guaranteed out pitch, and that is allowing hitters to wait him out on his strong, but not nightmarish, fastball.

Compounding the concern about Saturday’s game is Hamels’ mound opponent, Andrew EuHGHene Pettitte, who has pitched in more post-season games than any other hurler and who loves the big stage more than Elton John and Chad Ocholoco combined. You know Pettitte won’t care if the entire Citizens Bank Park crowd dresses up like giant syringes or Roger Clemens or giant syringes sticking out of Clemens’ calloused hindquarters. He will throw his six strong innings and move on.

Hamels, on the other hand, must match Pettitte or risk putting the Phillies in a hole. He certainly has the track record, but his post-season performance this season (1-1, 6.97 ERA) is hardly reason to believe he’ll rise to the occasion. Should Hamels unfurl a gem, he will regain his status as post-season stud, erase much of the stench of his previous work and perhaps earn the right to start Game Seven in the Bronx, should things advance that far. Struggle, or worse, fall apart, and he’ll enter the ’10 season required to answer questions about which was more indicative of his future: 2008’s dominance, or 2009’s uncertainty. In effect, his pitching Saturday night will re-establish him as the King of Philadelphia or just another pitcher with one shiny item on an otherwise mundane resume. No pressure, Cole. None at all.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Cleveland Browns fans have planned a “late arrival” protest for their team’s Nov. 16 Monday night game with the Ravens. They’re hoping a TV shot of a nearly-empty stadium will put pressure on ownership to fix some problems. Organizers can count on one group to support the cause: the players. They haven’t shown up all year…In his new autobiography, Andre Agassi details his dislike of tennis, his crystal meth use, his agonizing hair loss and his marriages to Brooke Shields and Steffi Graf. In a related story, Pete Sampras is planning a book that will discuss life without a personality…The NC2A’s decision to suspend Oklahoma State wideout Dez Bryant for a year was another example of the organization’s continued war against student-athletes. Yes, Bryant lied about his meeting with Deion Sanders, but the NC2A’s discipline proved why he did it. Bryant was afraid he’d get smacked down for telling the truth. While schools spend money like crazy and prostitute themselves to corporations for a buck, the NC2A looks away. Meanwhile, a college kid works out with a former pro, and he is banished. Disgusting…Great news for all of you who believed syrup of ipecac was a little too powerful as a vomit-inducing agent. Fox is putting a camera on Cowboy Quarterback for Sunday’s entire Packers-Vikings game. Watching just a few minutes of that should inspire nausea sufficient to expel any toxin or poison that has invaded a person’s body.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Eagles’ uninspiring 27-17 win over the lousy Redskins last Monday showed just how far the team has to go before it can be considered anything more than a wild-card contender. The Birds’ offense is a mess, especially if Brian Westbrook’s concussion keeps him out of this week’s game (it should), not that coach Andy Reid uses him all that much. Injuries along the offensive front have been a problem, and that much is out of Reid’s control. But the play-calling, the incessant use of the “Wildcat” formation to no productive end and an unwillingness to commit to the run have conspired to strip the offense of a personality. Right now, it seems as if Reid is trying to make every play a big play, rather than creating a rhythm that allows for consistent movement and production. Some of the blame has to be directed at QB Donovan McNabb, whose completion percentage (57.3%) would be the second-lowest of his career, not counting his rookie season. But for the most part, the blame lies with Reid, who looks like someone trying to show everybody how smart he is, rather than putting together a solid gameplan every week.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: You have to love the NFL. No matter how much evidence gets thrown in its face about the absolutely devastating effects of pro football’s collisions on players down the road, they continue to stonewall. The most recent example of the denial came Wednesday, when commissioner Roger Goodell testified before a House Judiciary Committee and refused to acknowledge that repeated blows to the head cause long-term damage and contribute to emotional instability. Of course, Goodell said that more research was needed and that the league was committed to that. Good for you, Rog! He even had players’ union chief DeMaurice Smith along for the ride. Smith actually echoed Goodell’s nonsense, even though he represents the players whose brains are being damaged. If you have the time, check out Malcolm Gladwell’s excellent article on the topic in last week’s New Yorker. In it, Gladwell sees the actual brain damage that multiple high-speed collisions spawn and checks out a University of North Carolina program that registers the g-force severity and frequency of hits sustained by players during practices. It’s eye-opening stuff and enough to make you understand how the NFL is in no way interested in rectifying the situation, particularly if it takes away from the violence. How many more suicides and sad, demented former players will it take to change the stance? Unfortunately, it looks like too many.

* * *

ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Great job by Majoke League Baseball commissioner Bud Sellout on Mark McGwire’s return to the game. Sellout offered an enthusiastic endorsement of the former slugger and suspected steroid cheat’s joining the Cardinals as a hitting instructor. Anybody who saw McGwire’s pathetic performance in front of Congress or took note of his invisibility knows the guy has something to hide. By letting him come back to baseball with no admission of guilt, pledge to help educate youth or any remorse whatsoever amounts to efforts to sanitize his image in pursuit of Hall of Fame votes. Sellout has tried to convince people (and anyone who believes him is a complete sap) that he cared about erasing steroids from the baseball landscape, but this is another example of his desire to evade the topic. McGwire should not be coaching, not without addressing a long list of mandates regarding his past. Don’t expect Sellout to enforce that. He’s too busy piling up the salary increases.

-EH-

NBA Action is Fantastic

2009-10-23T11:14:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

Back in the ‘90s when Tom Odjakjian was playing roundball matchmaker while with espn, he laid out for El Hombre the perfect recipe for a successful conference hierarchy – at least from the TV perspective:

Take three or four top-shelf teams, a couple hopefuls with the potential to pull upsets now and then and a bunch of catfish living at the bottom of the sea, incapable of doing anything but pumping up the big boys’ records. Mix together for maximum drama and excitement.

In other words, screw parity. That socialist concept may be nice for the NFL and Sweden, but real interest gets generated when there are some true heavyweights roaming the land, stumbling into each other every now and then and staging some memorable battles, preferably near the end of the season.

Odjakjian has since moved on to the Big East, where he has to – among other things – figure out a way to get South Florida and DePaul’s hoop teams on TV every season, no easy task. But his idea remains vital today when it comes to fan interest. Parity may lead to the most equitable level of hope for fans and fill coffers in a similarly identical manner, but no matter how much a matchup between a pair of mediocre teams might make league officials happy, real excitement comes when showdowns between the big boys take place.

It would seem as if Odjakjian was orchestrating the NBA’s off-season moves, because the league enters a watershed season with its most impressive collection of heavy hitters in a long while. It doesn’t quite match the 1980s for star power, but the moves made over the summer have turned the top part of the league into a five-way battle royal, while at the same time pushing the league’s Dalits even further from contention. It’s amazing to look at how the upper echelon fortified itself, while perpetually awful teams cut salary (New Jersey), added incongruous parts (Memphis) or simply gave up (Milwaukee).

San Antonio conned the Bucks out of Richard Jefferson for a few postcards of the Alamo. The Celtics added Rasheed Wallace for versatility and crankiness. Cleveland decided that defending the high pick-and-roll wasn’t all that important (even though every NBA team has 439 variations of the ancient set) and brought Shaquille O’Neal aboard for interior heft and comic relief. Vince Carter is now with the Magic, playing the part of Hedo Turkoglu, without the bad hair. And Los Angeles decided the best way to defend its title was to have Ron Artest beat on Kobe Bryant in practice, rather than in games. Each of those extremely high profile moves, along with a few other, less-publicized transactions (Marquis Daniels in Boston, Antonio McDyess in San Antonio) should create a strong upper class that will allow for maximum attention and a fascinating playoff season.

With a possible work stoppage looming in ’11, serious financial problems plaguing many teams (buy one ticket, get 20 free) and a free-agent frenzy on the horizon that could completely change the league’s personality, it’s nice the NBA has a season ahead that could be truly memorable. Here are some of the more interesting storylines:

Rent-a-Net: New Jersey is running an interesting promotion: Buy four courtside seats for 10 games at the low-low price of $25,000, and you get access to the Izod Center’s club, free food and beverage and the chance to have the Net player of your choice show up at an event for an hour. What a deal. Imagine having Jason Kidd or Vince Carter or Richard Jefferson at your kid’s birthday party or enlivening a Bar Mitzvah celebration. Oh, you mean they don’t play in Jersey anymore? Somehow Devin Harris, Brook Lopez and Yi Jianlian don’t have the same cachet. How about this marketing slogan for those crazy enough to buy that package: Sucker Seats.

Dysfunctional Family: The most frustrated man in the NBA has to be Memphis GM Chris Wallace, who is credited with (blamed for?) the team’s acquisitions of Zach Randolph and Allen Iverson, even though he had nothing to do with them. Those choices were made by Grizz owner Michael Heisley, or if you believe A.I., the Lord. Heisley is so cheap he probably charges for catsup and mustard at the concession stands and thought bringing two of the league’s most selfish players to town would help sell tickets. They sure won’t help Memphis youngsters Rudy Gay, O.J. Mayo, Mike Conley and Hasheem Thabeet, unless they want to learn how to hog the ball and stay out late. Expect this team in the playoffs again around 2019.

One More Chance: Don’t be surprised if Cleveland Cavalier fans don’t learn the lyrics to the Jackson Browne classic, “Stay,” and serenade LeBron James every time he takes the floor. James can opt out of his contract after this season, and one would imagine the Knicks will go after him with the same zest Eddy Curry attacks the post-game buffet. James wants to make money, lots of it, and he has a bigger chance to do that in New York, even though the Knicks can’t offer him a contract as lucrative as Cleveland can. We’re talking endorsements. We’re talking Wall Street. We’re talking lunch boxes. To make it harder for James to leave, the Cavs spent all they could during the off-season to make their team better. Shaq’s in town. So are strong role players Anthony Parker and Jamario Moon. Cleveland re-signed Sideshow Bob. This is the team’s best chance for a title, and whether it wins one might just determine James’ address next year.

Reverse the Curse: When top overall draft pick Blake Griffin hurt his knee just before training camp – after hurting his shoulder during summer league play – everybody laughed and credited the Clipper Curse for stalling another promising career. But Griffin is stronger than some superstition, and the team has more talent than previous incarnations, which pretty much always found a way to lose. It all depends on PG Baron Davis, who is said to be svelte and in shape, a big difference from this time last year, when he hit the pasta full throttle in a reality show diet scheme. But Griffin and fellow pups Eric Gordon and Al Thornton have big upsides, and L.A. has a manageable payroll and stalwarts who are tied up for a couple more years. The Clips won all of 19 last year. Expect them to double that and then some, unless of course, you know, they’re cursed.

On the Rise: The Thunder is so young and so new to its OK City digs that it’s tempted to consider it an expansion team, rather than a franchise that has been around since the late 1960s. (How else would it have chosen a name like “Supersonics?” Love that space age wonder.) If things continue on their current path, that kind of thinking should evaporate pretty quickly. Thanks to young standouts like Kevin Durant, Russell Westbrook and Jeff Green, the Thunder is heading in the right direction. There’s no way Oklahoma City can make the playoffs this year, but don’t count out a run next season and count them in for sure the year after that. Then, the only problem for the team will be whether all of those players want to leave town.

Fearless Predictions: Eastern Playoff Teams: Cleveland, Boston, Orlando, Atlanta, Chicago, Washington, Miami, Detroit. Western Playoff Teams: Los Angeles Lakers, San Antonio, Utah, Portland, Denver, Dallas, New Orleans, Los Angeles Clippers.

Conference Finals: Cleveland over Boston; San Antonio over Los Angeles.

Finals: San Antonio over Cleveland.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Washington coach Jim Zorn is just the latest victim of owner Daniel Snyder’s stupidity. El Hombre understands that the money is great, but why would anybody want to subject himself to being part of the Redskins’ circus…Shame on Magic Johnson and (and to a lesser extent) Larry Bird. Instead of putting together what would have been a great book about their rivalry, which had so many rich components, they chose to rip on Isiah Thomas. Sure, Thomas deserves a lot of heat for his mismanagement as a coach and commissioner, but to load their book with rumormongering and innuendo was small time stuff…One month after separating with his wife, Dodgers owner Frank McCourt fired her as CEO of the team. Jamie McCourt should have a pretty good case against her estranged husband, because EH hears he was sleeping with one of his employees…Oklahoma QB Sam Bradford’s shoulder injury – and re-injury – will forever more be known as Exhibits A and B why any player with the chance to go in the top five of the NFL Draft should do so without question. Unless there is a rookie salary cap, there is little reason to take the risk Bradford did, all in the name of devotion to dear, old State U. Even if there is a salary cap for newcomers, it’s possible Bradford’s injury could impact his career – and earning power – permanently. That’s a steep price to pay for loyalty.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Every time Cole Hamels has pitched during the post-season, fans and Phillies brass have hoped the lefthander would return to the form that made him so successful last October. Well, it ain’t happening. Unlike Brad Lidge, who has regained some of his mastery after discovering the two-seam fastball, Hamels is a flawed pitcher right now. Teams have solved him somewhat and are sitting on his solid but hardly jaw-dropping fastball, a fact evidenced by the large number of at bats that he requires six, seven and even eight pitches to complete – sometimes with a poor outcome. Hamels can’t get lefties out, is running high pitch counts in early innings and looks like he has lost his confidence. Once the team’s ace, he’s now better suited for the three or four spot in the World Series rotation. Hamels needs to gut out the rest of the year and then discover a way to counter the hitters’ adjustments to him, unless he wants to remain ordinary. With that in mind, here’s how the W.S. pitching order should go – Game One: Clifford The Big Red Ace; Game Two: Heavy B; Game Three: Pedro; Game Four: Hamels, unless Lee wants to go on three days rest like his Yankee pal C.C. Sabathia.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: The absolutely horrible umpiring during the post-season has renewed pleas for an instant replay system in Majoke League Baseball. The game simply can’t be determined by incompetent umpires, especially when so much is at stake. Since MLB already has a system in place for home run calls, it wouldn’t be a major step to institute a method of reviewing other plays – but not balls and strikes. Give each team one or two challenges a game and let it stay at that. For those worrying about how much time it would add, like some of those interminable NFL replay stoppages, remember that a big part of that process involves clock and yard-line issues, considerations which don’t have any role in baseball games. Further, allow for no commercial breaks during reviews, the better to prevent a 30-second interruption from mushrooming into two or three minutes. Think the umps would have needed much time to divine that Joe Mauer’s hit in Game Three against the Yankees was fair? Hell, an NBA ref could have seen that. It’s time to take the game out of the hands of incompetents and get it right.

-EH-

A Flood of Memories

2009-10-09T11:55:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

There was no fanfare two days ago to mark the 40th anniversary of one of the truly seminal moments in sports. Maybe because it didn’t involve Cowboy Quarterback or LeBron James or this athlete with that reality-show chippy, no one bothered to notice. But it should have been commemorated with a giant retrospective, instead of falling into history’s abyss. Hell, it didn’t even show up on any “This Day In Sports” lists.

If you know what happened on Oct. 7, 1969, go straight to the head of the class, because you pay attention to the whys and wherefores of sport, rather than the daily blithering of synergy-chasing media outlets. It was on that date the Phillies traded Dick Allen, Cookie Rojas and Jerry Johnson to the St. Louis Cardinals for Tim McCarver, Joe Hoerner and Byron Browne.

And Curt Flood.

At the time, it was a big deal because the Phils were finally breaking ties with the disgruntled – and highly-talented – Allen, who had emerged as one of baseball’s most dynamic sluggers. But because of his treatment in Philadelphia, both by teammates and fans, Allen wanted out. By dealing him to St. Louis, the Phillies were giving up their main bat, but they were hoping that Flood’s speed, average and slick glove would compensate somewhat.

It never happened. Unhappy with the Phillies’ dreadful play, the prospect of what he considered playing in a racist city, the idea that the Cardinals would trade him in the first place, and that he learned of the deal from an assistant GM and not the big boss, Flood refused to report to Philadelphia. Not only that, but he wanted to choose where he played. Imagine that; Flood wanted to be a free agent.

Fans who don’t remember the late 1960s and early ’70s – or the 100 years of baseball before that – can’t fathom a world in which a player who was without a contract wouldn’t be able to cut his own deal. Flood could have made $100,000 (real money back then) to play for the Phillies, but he refused. On Christmas Eve, 1969, he sent a letter to baseball commissioner Bowie Kuhn that outlined his case.

“After twelve years in the major leagues, I do not feel I am a piece of property to be bought and sold irrespective of my wishes. I believe that any system which produces that result violates my basic rights as a citizen and is inconsistent with the laws of the United States and of several States(sic). It is my desire to play baseball in 1970, and I am capable of playing. I have received a contract offer from the Philadelphia club, but I believe I have the right to consider offers from other clubs before making any decision. I, therefore, request that you make known to all Major League clubs my feelings in this matter, and advise them of my availability for the 1970 season.”

Flood had taken on the cherished MLB reserve clause, which had tied players to their teams. Once you signed with a team, you belonged to that team – forever. Satan had a better escape clause than baseball did. Contracts arrived in the mail each winter, and players signed them, no matter how insulting they were. Okay, so maybe somebody like Babe Ruth had some leverage, but Curt Flood did not. He belonged to the Cardinals, and if they wanted to trade him to the Phillies, the Dodgers or Ulan Bator Yakherders, there was nothing he could do about it.

As you can imagine, Flood’s letter was received with the same enthusiasm in the Majoke League Offices as news about the debut of “Cougar Town” was at the National Organization for Women’s headquarters. Kuhn and MLB fought Flood to the death in court, and vanquished him. The reserve clause won, because the Supreme Court upheld a 1922 ruling that favored the outdated model. Flood sat out the 1970 season, played 13 games with the Washington Senators in 1971 and retired. He had a career .293 average, won seven gold gloves, registered 200 hits twice and played on a pair of World Series champions.

That’s a pretty impressive resume, but it’s nothing compared to what his reserve-clause challenge meant to baseball players – and, ultimately, all professional athletes. Though the 1975 arbitrator’s decision to make pitchers Andy Messersmith and Dave McNally free agents was based on the reserve clause’s ambiguous language and not Flood’s lawsuit, all professional athletes should applaud the courage he displayed in challenging an entrenched, parsimonious hierarchy. It’s no coincidence that the reserve clause endured for decades before Flood’s challenge and only five years after it. The clause would have been overcome eventually, even without Flood’s actions, but his willingness to fight for his beliefs and demand to be treated with dignity by MLB owners required a rare fortitude.

Sadly, few professional athletes know of Flood and his stand. They sign their gigantic contracts, but they don’t know what went into paving the dusty road that leads to their sporting penthouses. Curt Flood gave up his career for his principles. He sacrificed a lot of money. But he never let go of his beliefs. Forty years later, MLB players ought to rename their union in his honor. It’s the least they can do for the man who had the guts to stand up to the baseball barons and demand something better.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: Golf and rugby have been added to the Olympic roster for the 2016 and ’20 Games, while baseball and softball remain on the sidelines. Geez, wonder if a certain billionaire golfer’s worldwide popularity had anything to do with it, not that the IOC cares about money…After beating the Packers last Monday night, Cowboy Quarterback cured the common cold and rescued a toddler who fell down a well. espn plans a four-hour special on the big day during the Vikings’ bye week…Danica Patrick is considering a limited NASCAR arrangement for 2010. It would be an interesting move for the Indy racer, who would no doubt be asked to drive in a bikini, the better to appeal to stock car racing’s effete clientele…So Lamar Odom married a Kardashian sister last week after knowing her for something like two months. He’s convinced it’s true love. El Hombre believes it’s even money the thing doesn’t last six months.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: It is hardly stretching things to declare Saturday’s third game of the Phillies NLDS against Colorado a must win. Thursday’s loss to the Rockies was a disastrous brew of poor starting pitching (grow up and pitch well while the sun is shining, Cole), shaky managerial decisions (what, Bunning and Short weren’t available, Charlie?) and a lack of offense (remember when Chase Utley was reliable?) that resulted in a 1-1 tie in the best-of-five minefield. Now, all the Phils have to contend with in Denver is weather straight from Joe Stalin’s gulags, a starting rotation so jumbled it’s a wonder Joe Roa doesn’t come trotting out onto the mound for the first inning Saturday and a sinking feeling that the team’s offensive shortcomings during the regular season are being exposed further during the playoffs. This team has won a title, so dismissing it is dangerous, but the Rockies are a strong adversary, and it’s time for the big guns on the roster to step up over the weekend to prevent a disaster. That means some long balls from the middle of the order and a starting pitcher not named Lee with the huevos to deliver seven or eight strong innings.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Florida State board chairman Jim Smith wants Bobby Bowden out of the head football coaching position, preferably yesterday. Shame on him. First of all, his comments create instability that hurts the team on the field and the recruiting trail, where rival coaches can tell prospects that no one knows what’s going to happen in Tallahassee. Second, Bowden is more responsible than any 100 people for helping FSU develop a national reputation. Before he got there, the school was a regional concern, not too far removed from being a women’s college. Now, it is known all over America, and Bowden has brought hundreds of millions of dollars into the university’s coffers. For that, his contract – which runs through next season – should be honored, and Bowden should be allowed to close his career with dignity. Smith’s upset the Seminoles are 2-3, but he shouldn’t be sacrificing the man who has done more for the university than anybody else. Let Bowden have his victory lap next season and then move on.

-EH-

Stop the Madness

2009-10-02T08:28:00.001-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

When Edgar Allen Poe wrote the famous short story, “The Imp of the Perverse,” in 1850, there was no football, not even the European version of the animal. The Chinese had been playing a kicking game as early as the second century BC, and there was the Central and South American “Tlatchi” game that was invented hundreds of years before. But, for Poe’s purposes, there was no prolate spheroid, no tailgate parties and not even any old-fashioned European hooliganism.

But Poe might as well have been writing for the modern-day football fan when he described the Imp and its characteristics. For those of you not familiar with the little bastard, understand that it’s the thing inside you that makes you do what you’re not supposed to do. Ever wonder why you’re dying to see just how hot that iron gets? It’s the Imp. When you decide to drive through the giant puddle, even if it means soaking the breaks or bottoming out, blame the Imp. And in those moments of weakness when you actually tune in to a WNBA game, kill the Imp.

The Imp’s role in our football viewing is clearly defined. No matter how wrong we realize it is to see one man being obliterated by another on the field, no matter how much we have heard about the trauma that comes from head-to-hits and no matter how savage the entire process may be, we still love it. God help us, but we love it. The brutality of the game is on display every Sunday in the NFL and on college gridirons, but sometimes it takes big-time, high-profile collisions to make it all resonate a little more.

By now, most of you have seen Taylor Wyndham’s blasting of Tim Tebow last Saturday in Lexington. In fact, you have probably seen it 10 times, thanks to the repeated showings by espn and the magic of YouTube. El Hombre correspondent and fratello-da-un-altro-madre Raging Bill saw it and immediately referenced Chicago linebacker Wilber Marshall’s leveling Joe Ferguson back in ’85, a hit that led former Bears coach Mike Ditka to say, “I thought he killed him.” Wyndham had a clean, high-speed shot on the helpless Tebow, who unlike his “Superman” descriptions, looked quite vulnerable in that moment of isolated violence. He sustained a concussion, remained prone on the field for a long while and vomited while being carted off the field. (No word yet on how Gator fans can buy pieces of the Tebow chum, but you can bet it’s coming.)

Football America, of course, recoiled in horror at the hit. Then, it watched again and again. Turns out the Imp is quite a fan of the game. Florida boosters couldn’t care less about Poe, his theories or much of anything that doesn’t wear orange-and-blue. They want to know whether Tebow will be available next Saturday night in Death Valley against LSU. Despite assurances by UF coach Urban Meyer that Tebow is “terrific,” let’s hope it’s a neurosurgeon (or two) who’s making the ultimate decision on the quarterback’s availability, and not someone charged solely with winning games.

That wish is even more fervent in light of results released Wednesday of a study commissioned by the NFL that looked into the dementia rates of former players, versus those of the general public. The research, which was conducted by the University of Michigan Institute for Social Research, found that 6.1 percent of 1,063 former NFL players aged 50 and older had received a dementia-related diagnosis. That’s five times higher than the national average of 1.2 percent. Players ages 30 through 49 were given those diagnoses at a rate of 1.9 percent, 19 times the national average.

This is pretty compelling stuff, especially since it was the NFL that ordered the study. In the past, the league has scoffed at results like this, so these numbers, from its own request, have to make an impact. Then again, this is the NFL, which is selling the controlled violence in stadiums every Sunday and through ancillary outlets like its propaganda partners and video product line. Instead of using the study as a clarion call for change, the ostriches in New York jammed their heads deeper into the artificial turf. “There are thousands of retired players who do not have memory problems,” NFL spokesman Greg Aiello said.

Yes, and there are thousands of people in American Samoa who didn’t die in the horrible tsunami earlier this week. Does that mean everything is fine for those who did perish and their families? “Memory disorders affect many people who never played football or other sports,” he said. “We are trying to understand it as it relates to our retired players.” Uh, Greg, this study provides a pretty good understanding: Play professional football, have a significantly larger chance of getting brain damage than the average person. That ought to save the league a little dough. Now, Aiello is merely providing the league take on the situation, so bashing him does no good. Going after the NFL, however, is absolutely necessary. Although last March it instituted a rule protecting “defenseless” receivers against shots to the melon, the league has to go further and ban every hit to the head – and by the head. Players who use their head or deliver blows to the head will be penalized and suspended. To some, that is Draconian. To those like Hall of Fame tight end John Mackey, who fights dementia every day, it would make perfect sense. A culture must be changed here, and there are going to be some unhappy people at first.

The NFL must admit that its players are at risk for brain injury and long-term trouble and change the game so that the dementia diagnoses drop in the future. It’s bad enough many of these guys will need new hips and knees. They make those in titanium these days. But there isn’t an artificial brain out there, so protecting the ones inside players’ heads is vital. The recent study can be tossed on the growing pile of evidence that shows the dangers of playing a game where the collisions get more violent each season. It’s up to the league to lessen the risk, rather than playing to the Imp in all of us.

Even Poe would have to admit that the league can’t keep embracing the damaging violence.

After he got done burying one of his victims.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: The NHL season started last night, and that calls for some fearless predictions: Two franchise folds, one team move and a Stanley Cup Finals with ratings lower than the Greater Greensboro Open. The champ? Spartak…It was a wild week in Majoke League baseball. Twins catcher Joe Mauer was accused of stealing signs. The Cards said Cincinnati pitcher Bronson Arroyo was rubbing pine tar on the ball. And the Nationals were charged with felony identity theft for posing as an MLB ballclub. That was good news for the Orioles, who had been under investigation of the same charge but seem to have dodged an indictment…President Obama has drawn flak for heading to Copenhagen on behalf of Chicago’s bid to host the 2016 Olympics. His biggest problem isn’t the partisan doggerel, though. Rather, it’s that his Chi-town roots and the city’s reputation for shaky politics can’t be put to good use in the bribing of the IOC committee members charged with making the choice. If this were 10-15 years ago, Chicago would be a shoo-in…Cowboy Quarterback takes on former employer Green Bay Monday night and says he has no revenge notions. It’s hard to believe him, since CQ has given up all dairy products for the week…A new book claims that employees at a cryonics facility in Arizona charged with deep-freezing Ted Williams’ head used crude tools to decapitate the (dead) slugger and even engaged in some batting practice with the body part. Doesn’t look good for Williams’ ability to be on a roster for the start of the 2054 season.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Now that the Phillies have clinched the NL East title, fans can relax a little and dispense with the 1964 redux nightmares. But a good night’s sleep shouldn’t come so easily, since the very real possibility of a 2007 encore still looms. The smoking hot Rockies are 73-40 under Jim Tracy, who took over after a dreadful, 18-28 break from the gate. Barring a weekend collapse, the Phils will likely meet Colorado in the dangerous best-of-five NLDS and would enter with some serious problems. Take starting pitching. To some, it’s a no-brainer to start Cole Hamels and Cliff Lee in the first two games, especially since the Rockies hit just .254 against lefties. But neither hurler has looked all that good of late, and the Phils might be better served going with Joe Blanton and J.A. Happ. Think that will happen? No way. The bullpen continues to be a mess, with J.C. Romero’s arm hurting, Brett Myers not back to full strength and major closer issues remaining. The bats have come alive of late, but the same old problems of getting runners in from third base and manufacturing scores remain. The Phils are experienced and talented, but they are also highly flawed and can hardly give fans peace of mind heading into the post-season.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: When El Hombre read the item about Cleveland Cavaliers’ guard Delonte West’s arrest on gun charges a couple weeks ago, he almost couldn’t contain himself. Talk about some fertile ground. West was stopped on his three-wheel motorcycle in Maryland and was found to have two loaded pistols and a loaded shotgun on his person. And get this: the shotgun was in a guitar case strapped to his back. Great Caesar’s Ghost! This was the mother lode. Fortunately, time provides perspective, and the reality of the situation is that West is a very troubled young man who can find some sanctuary on the basketball court, but for whom everyday life is a staggering challenge. He has battled emotional issues from the time he was a teenager, and this latest episode shows he has plenty of ground still to cover. So, while it’s tempting (really tempting) to take this latest incident and dash, let’s show some compassion and hope West gets it together and moves forward in a stable condition.

-EH-

The Bullpen Follies

2009-09-25T07:59:00.000-07:00

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

This is the time of year when El Hombre can count on a call from Deep Nose, elated Miami Hurricane alumnus and keeper of all things Phillies for the rogues and misfits who comprise our long-time season-ticket consortium for the World Champions. DN is in full accumulation mode, which means he is trying to gather as many ducats as possible for the post-season, the better to feed the hunger of our group and its ancillary members, not to mention his own speculative efforts on Stub Hub. He’s a busy man, that Deep Nose, but his efforts always result in maximum opportunities for us, and that’s a good thing.

While Hurricane QB Jacory Harris, who is so smooth he should travel with backup singers, has Deep Nose’s mind dancing, so too does the specter of a Phillies-Yankees World Series. Not only would it afford the local nine a chance to erase the stain of the four-game sweep at the hands of the Bombers in 1950, but it would also allow Deep Nose to pull in a pretty penny for some of the preferred seats in our allotment. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” DN said when reminded of the possibility. One imagines his eyes taking on cartoonish dollar-sign shapes at the thought of investment-banking pirates shelling out top dollar to see A-Roid choke in the Fall Classic.

Trouble is, while the Yankees could well find themselves making TV executives smile with a run deep into October – and perhaps, for the first time, November – the Phillies may not hold up their end of the bargain. The team’s travails as it careened toward the NL East title, a designation that sounds better than it really is, have fans’ minds and stomachs in an uncomfortable twist. This is a team with so many flaws, it’s a wonder it will end the season with about 95 wins. That is in large part a testimony to its ability to beat up on the rotten teams in the NL East, most notably the fetid Nationals (15-3) and the odious Mets (11-6). Without those teams to slap around, the Phils could well be scuffling for a wild card spot.

But they will enter the post-season as division champs, provided they take care of the minor business of whittling that magic number of four down to nil, a task the Milwaukee Brewers will no doubt be happy to make easier. And if the Phils can charge down the stretch, they might even find their way to the top spot in the league, or at least the number two position, behind the Dodgers. That will guarantee home-field advantage in the opening, best-of-five crapshoot, never a bad thing.

Once there, however, the Phillies face some big-time obstacles that could well prevent a repeat championship performance. Last year, the Phils were an imperfect team with a perfect bullpen. This year, they are an imperfect team with an imperfect bullpen. That’s not a good condition for a title aspirant. Closer Brad Lidge has blown 11 saves and might have to enter the witness protection program if he fails to do the job in the post-season. It would be nice if fireballing Ryan Madson could take care of the job, but he doesn’t seem to have the, ahem, fortitude to handle the responsibility. For a while, Brett Myers and Chan Ho Park were candidates, but injuries have waylaid each of them, and they will be lucky to be eligible for action in the playoffs, much less handle a job as vital as the closer’s. The most recent germination from manager Charlie Manuel’s fertile mind was Tyler Walker, a journeyman reliever who has looked good at times this year but hardly imbues the populous with too much confidence. The top resume item he can muster is 23 saves for a 2005 Giants team that finished 12 games below .500.

While the bullpen staggers through September, trying to get healthy and appear reliable, the Phillies lineup continues to live for the big inning and the patron saint of Earl Weaver: the three-run homer. A sacrifice fly is as rare as a reasonably priced concession item at Citizens Bank Park. The Phillies’ inability to manufacture runs is almost pathological. It’s almost as if winning a game 4-2 with a bunch of hits, sacrifices, stolen bases and walks is sacrilegious. Playing long-ball is fine when the Nationals are in town, but when the weather turns colder, and the collars become tighter, it’s not so easy to swing freely.

The saving grace for the Phillies might just be its starting rotation, which could be the deepest in team history. When a team’s wins leader is relegated to the bullpen, something good is happening. But it’s dangerous to think that the same guys who throw into the eighth inning in August and September can do that in October. A hundred pitches don’t go as far in the post-season cauldron as they do on a sultry summer evening. The bullpen will have to perform.

So, Deep Nose will continue his hunting and gathering, and the Phillies will continue to madden fans with their nightly bullpen travails. Let’s hope they can figure things out in time for October baseball, if only to see the smile on DN’s face when he can list lower-level Series tickets against the Yankees for obscene amounts of money. The team owes him that much.

* * *

EL HOMBRE SEZ: The NC2A is considering taking actions to reduce drastically the burdens on athletes in Division II and might even cut back a little in D-I basketball. Of course, no cutbacks are needed in big-time football, with its 12 (and sometimes 13) game regular season, conference title tilts, bowl games and year-round conditioning. The NC2A really cares about its student-athletes. (Cough, cough.) That’s why it can’t have a playoff…The Pirates drew a robust crowd of 3,000 to Thursday’s game against the Reds, and one of the reasons given for the intimate gathering was the nearby G-20 summit. Yeah, fans couldn’t wait to get a look at Thai Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva. It couldn’t have been that a matinee between the rotten Bucs and floundering Reds was as attractive as the idea of the torrid love affair between Papa John Phillips and his daughter Mackenzie, could it? Nahhhh…The announcement that Russian gazillionaire Mikhail Prokhorov is buying the New Jersey Nets had to strike a little fear into the team’s players. On other NBA teams, poor play or a rotten attitude will result in a trip to the bench. With Prokhorov in charge, the same behavior may earn an exile to Yakutsk…Can’t understand why the NHL is having so much trouble getting its Phoenix franchise stabilized. Hockey has such a great history and tradition the desert. Boneheads…The city of Industry, which sits about 15 miles east of Los Angeles, has cleared a major hurdle in its bid to build a stadium that could lure an NFL back to the nation’s second-largest market. Imagine the excitement as fans cite 62 leisure alternatives to watching the L.A. Jaguars play in person. By the year 2025, the franchise will be looking to move, just as the Rams and Raiders did before it.

* * *

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Michael Vick makes his triumphant return to the NFL Sunday when the Eagles play Kansas City, and his presence on the active roster should help the team ratchet the drama quotient sky high. There shouldn’t be too much trouble this week, since starter Kevin Kolb has done nothing during his career to warrant any complaining about the deployment of Vick, who could become the greatest option QB in NFL history. In two weeks (the Birds have a bye next Sunday), however, things could get a little dicey. Donovan McNabb isn’t the most secure fellow around, and his return to the offense, coupled with Vick’s insertion, could lead to some friction. Number Five groused about not being able to generate sufficient offensive flow when Vick was used in an exhibition game. Imagine how he’ll handle being moved to the slot while Vick runs veer plays during contests that count. Meanwhile, Vick has said he thought he’d be starting for a team by now, a laughable statement from someone who brings more baggage than an airport porter and was never a pinpoint passer to begin with. Vick should take his 8-10 snaps Sunday, try to outrun a couple linebackers and keep his mouth shut. He certainly deserves a second chance, but he has to prove himself after a two-year layoff and demonstrate that he can thrive in a grown-up offense, not a run-and-gun scheme, before someone will consider him worthy of a starting gig.

* * *

AND ANOTHER THING: Thursday night’s loss to South Carolina proved that the hype surrounding Mississippi was irrational and the by-product of college football’s propaganda partners’ needs to prime the promotional pump in advance of each season. The Rebels were anointed the nation’s hot team, along with Oklahoma State (hello, Houston) on the basis of an upset win over Florida and a triumph over Texas Tech in the Cotton Bowl last year. All of a sudden, the Rebs were top-10 – and Thursday, they were top-five – material. The loss shows just how ridiculous it is to publish polls in August and early September, before teams have shown anything. If the popularity contests didn’t matter in the formula to choose a “national champion,” it wouldn’t matter, but because the USA Today election is part of the BCS scheme, it should have its basis a little more in fact than conjecture, since an early poll establishes an artificial hierarchy that rewards name brands. Take the Houston/OK State situation. The Cougars go to Stillwater and slap around Boone Pickens’ all-stars. That earned them a spot in the polls seven place behind the Cowpokes. That makes sense. At least the Harris Interactive Poll, which is comprised of a motley bunch of ex-coaches, B-list journalists and other assorted characters, doesn’t debut until next Monday. Perhaps its voters will take into account that success is earned on the field, not by a program’s tradition. Then again, given its track record and the asinine nature of the BCS, no one should count on anything of merit coming from the Harris poll. Get ready for another season of nonsense that devalues the world’s greatest sport.

-EH-