EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Back in 1901, when the organizers of the annual Rose Parade decided to supplement their cavalcade of flowers and toilet paper with some gridiron action, it’s almost certain their ultimate goal was to create a menagerie of 34 post-season games designed to reward even the most mediocre performances (Notre Dame) and provide trips to garden-spot destinations like Shreveport, Mobile and Detroit.
Better still, the run-up to that first Rose Bowl – won by a mighty Michigan Point-a-Minute outfit over a Stanford 11 so hapless it waved the white flag after three quarters – included much debate over the best way to choose the best team in the land. After several toddies and blind tosses at a dart board, the Rose honchos determined that combining the best elements of figure skating, boxing and the Chess Club would be an appropriate method. Either that or Russian roulette.
More than 100 years later, the bowl tradition established back in Pasadena is thriving. Some might say it’s completely out of control, given the fact that new “classics” are sprouting faster than hair on John Goodman’s back. Take this year’s kickoff, Saturday’s EagleBank Bowl in Washington D.C. Now there’s a reward for a great season. At halftime of the game, one lucky fan will receive a government bailout, while players spent the days leading up to the contest playing the new Capitol Hill virtual reality game: D.C. Lobbyist. The week’s only problem arose at the kickoff luncheon, when there wasn’t enough pork to go around, thanks to Congress’ insistence on piling it high on every spending package it created.
While Navy and Wake Forest tee it up in prehistoric RFK Stadium, 66 other teams compete for the right to declare themselves “(Insert Ridiculous Sponsor’s Name Here) Bowl Champions.” Ah, the color and the pageantry. The bowl season’s comin’ at ya, and El Hombre has your preview right here.
No Justice: Heavy C and the boys staggered home with a humiliating home loss to Syracuse and a wipeout in SoCal in which the Pacifist Irish didn’t manage a first down until the end of the third quarter. Their reward? A trip to Hawaii, of course. Charlie Weis will bring his unique brand of arrogance and sideline inadequacy back to South Bend for another season, great news for those who want to see Notre Dame out of the national title picture, but not so fine for the ND players, whose poor performance against the Orange was “rewarded” with a barrage of snowballs by those classy Irish yahoos, whose behavior made a NASCAR crowd look like the audience at Masterpiece Theater. Enjoy the Big Island, guys, and try to forget you’re one-point underdogs to a Hawaii team that lost by two touchdowns to Utah State.
Sacrificial Lambs: It seems as if the oddsmakers have finally learned their lesson when it comes to Ohio State and BCS games. Unless the Horrible People are playing ND, the best strategy is to make them heavy dogs, even if the opposition is the Green Party. Texas is a 9 ½-point favorite over OSU in the Fiesta Bowl, which is being played Jan. 5 to maximize the number of TV sets tuned away from the game. After watching the Blackeyes absorb shots from Florida and LSU the past two years, Vegas has taken no chances. Besides, after getting snubbed by Myron and the other computer geeks, UT has some serious motivation. Lose, and everybody will say the BCS system was vindicated, which would be tantamount to naming Britney Spears to head the National Endowment for the Arts. So, until you can prove yourself worthy, Ohio State, you’re a bad risk.
That’s Entertainment: Speaking of Vegas, the savants there found the only way to calculate the over-under number on the Oklahoma State-Oregon matchup in the Holiday Bowl was to take Avogadro’s Number and keep multiplying it by itself until the computer screamed, “No Mas!” When it comes to scoring points, these are two of the best around, and considering the Holiday’s history of wacky offensive explosions, the point total in this one could match the number of calories Oprah’s been pile-driving lately. Enjoy the fun and weep for the defensive coordinators.
Long Time, No See: Vanderbilt is playing in its first bowl game since 1982 and hoping to earn its first post-season victory since ’55, when Don Orr and the boys knocked off Auburn. Not that Vandy stormed the post-season gates or anything. After starting the season 5-0 and entertaining fantasies of winning the SEC East, the ‘Dores blew six of their last seven – including decisions to Mississippi State and Duke – with only a triumph over Kentucky’s assuring a bowl berth. The reward? A berth in the Music City Bowl in Nashville, Vandy’s hometown. Baby Steps, guys. Baby steps.
Be Gentle, Connecticut: While Commodore fans are reacquainting themselves with the concept of football in late December, the folks at Buffalo are trying to figure out how to behave at a bowl. The Bulls’ MAC championship completed a dramatic turnaround and secured a spot in the International Bowl, the Bulls’ first-ever post-season invitation. That’s the good news. The bad news is that a team from Buffalo, one of the country’s worst weather spots, actually has to go north to Tronno to play in a bowl. What, was the Eskimo Pie North Pole Bowl filled up? Congratulations to Turner Gill and the Bulls, who will no doubt enjoy the pre-game tour of the Keith Richards Transfusion Center and hope the opposition from Connecticut is not too forceful.
Why? Okay, so every team that plays in a bowl has the right to feel proud, and the schools are free to use the experience to promote their continued ascension in the college football world. But does that give us any reason to watch some of these games? For instance, there is not a remotely compelling reason to tune into the Independence Bowl, which pits Northern Illinois against Louisiana Tech. El Hombre would rather suffer through a “Clean House” marathon than watch that. There have been some dog bowls over the years, but that is in contention for the worst ever.
Then Again…: This just in from the world of computerized ticket scalping: Ducats for the execrable Orange Bowl, matching Cincinnati and Virginia Tech in the homeliest BCS game ever, are going for $1.25. That’s right, a buck-and-a-quarter. That’s all the evidence we need of the Big East and ACC’s irrelevance this season. In all fairness, the seats are in the upper deck’s corner, but come on, now, $1.25? Now, if you tell EH that the Mike Curb Congregation is performing during the famous halftime extravaganza, he’ll bump his bid up to a sawbuck, but that’s the limit.
And the Winner Is…: If you’re looking for a verdict on the BCS “national championship” game, you’ll have to wait until January, when all will be revealed. Sorry, but that’s just how El Hombre rolls.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: As if the continuing economic news and tsunami of holiday treacle aren’t enough to induce vomiting, consider that yesterday Brett Favre revealed that this might be his last year in the NFL. After the drama he created last year, that statement should be received with a blizzard of rotten fruit and vegetables. When Favre retires again, it should be done with a terse statement and no weepy press conference. And espn must promise to control itself…Think Nuggets coach George Karl doesn’t wake up every day with a huge grin on his face in the wake of the team’s decision to trade Allen I-I-I-I-Iverson to Detroit for Chauncey Billups? Since the deal, Denver is 16-5, and Karl has been able to eat solid food once again…Deposed Tennessee quarterback Vince Young is suing a pair of Texas men who trademarked “VY” and “INVINCEABLE” the day after Texas won the ’06 Rose Bowl. Seems Young can’t get some endorsement deals because those names aren’t available. Don’t worry, Vince, you can still use “HUGE DISAPPOINTMENT” and “VASTLY OVERRATED.”…espn’s decision to send Stephen Naismith (because he thinks he invented basketball) to interview Terrell Owens was a joke. The softball questions he lobbed were predictable, and worse, he hung colleague Ed Werder out to dry by letting Me-O trash the reporter. In its never-ending quest to create drama, the network has now decided to pit its own staff against each other. The big winner is Owens, who gets to whitewash his team-rending behavior.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Sixers made Mo Cheeks the scapegoat for their slow start, common practice in the NBA these days. While there is a question about whether Cheeks is a top-shelf professional hoops coach, the team’s early problems are more of a personnel than a tactical nature. The decision by previous GM Billy King to lavish a six-year, $60 million contract on moody one-dimensional center Samuel Dalembert was highly questionable, as was new boss Ed Stefanski’s off-season move to ink Andre Iguodala to a six-year, $80 million contract, with the highly mistaken assumption that Iguodala could play two guard. That assertion has been disproven (again) this season, and A.I. Jr. has moved to the three, displacing promising second-year man Thaddeus Young from the starting lineup. Worse, the big fish reeled in by the Sixers during the off-season, Elton Brand, struggled to fit into an up-tempo style, forcing the team to slow down and stagnate. Cheeks had a part in the mess, since he couldn’t motivate the players to work hard defensively, but this season’s slow start is due more to the team’s roster inadequacies than Cheeks’ shortcomings on the bench. Then again, in the NBA, the coach is the first to go. Sorry, Mo.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Chrysler announced Wednesday that it will shut its doors for a month, one way to deal with stagnating sales and rising costs. The rest of the auto industry is hoping to find a multi-billion dollar bailout under its Christmas tree. Unemployment is at a 26-year high. Consumer confidence is flagging. The investment community has been rocked. And, yet, professional sports roll along as if nothing were the matter. The Majoke League Baseball free-agent market is generating ridiculous contracts, as always. NBC has fewer than 10 30-second ads remaining for the Super Bowl, at a staggering $3 million each, and is showing no signs of offering discounts to get rid of the remaining inventory. Luxury boxes continue to be filled in NFL stadiums, and Citi, which was ravaged by the financial crisis earlier this year, has stayed firm in its pledge to provide $20 million a year for naming rights at the Mets’ new stadium. With so much suffering going on, how is this continuing? Why are fans continuing to plunk down ridiculous amounts of money to watch games? And how can companies that are laying off scads of people justify the purchasing of boxes and club seats? No one wants professional sports to start folding teams or ceasing operations, like the Arena Football League is doing in ’09, but the excesses have to end. Teams need to cut costs and stop treating fans like ATMs. And fans have to stop supporting clubs that continue to raise prices and lavish ridiculous salaries on players. At some point, the madness has to stop. Doesn’t it?
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: El Hombre wishes all of his loyal readers a happy holiday season and hopes your new year is filled with prosperity and joy. And no more drama-queen wide receivers. Or BCS drivel. Or “Manny being Manny” stories. Or rehabilitations of Generalissimo Knight’s reputation. Or…See you in ’09!
-EH-
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
The 2008 Heisman Goes To...
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
In November 1968, Yale was charging toward its first perfect season in eight years and only second since ’23, when Thomas Albert Dwight (T.A.D.) Jones was telling his young Eli charges “You are now going to play football against Harvard. Never again in your whole life will you do anything so important.”
The Bulldogs understood fully the gravity of their pending season finale with the Johnnies. Triumph, and immortality would be theirs. Senior quarterback Brian Dowling was particularly intent on winning, since he hadn’t suffered a defeat on the gridiron in a game he had finished since 7th grade, an accomplishment that earned him the nickname, “God,” on the Yale campus and a caricature in Doonesbury a few years later.
For three-plus quarters, God and his teammates kept things under control, rolling to a 29-13 lead. College football fans know what happened next. The Crimson launched one of the most amazing comebacks in football history, scoring 16 points in the final 0:29 to “beat” Yale, 29-29. During those last frantic moments, when everything was unraveling for Dowling and the Eli, he stood on the sideline next to coach Carm Cozza and begged to go in on defense. “Being a quarterback, you know what the other passer is trying to do,” Dowling said. Cozza refused, in part because he couldn’t believe the Crimson would complete its comeback and in part because had Harvard succeeded while Dowling was on the field, Cozza would have faced ridicule. “Don’t think it didn’t enter my mind,” Cozza said. “It did.”
After watching Tim Tebow play for Florida this season, it’s hard to imagine he would have behaved any differently than Dowling, had he found himself in a similar situation. While other quarterbacks might have sat on the sideline stewing but relieved that any misfortune about to befall their school was somebody else’s fault, Tebow would have had his helmet on, asking to be put in at linebacker or safety, the better to end the nonsense. The Gator junior isn’t just a quarterback; he’s a football player. And when it came time for El Hombre to cast his 2008 Heisman Trophy ballot – a whopping two days early this year – Tebow was the choice.
There will be a substantial groundswell for each of the other finalists, Oklahoma statistical machine Sam Bradford and Texas all-purpose phenom Colt McCoy. But since the rules of the Heisman direct voters to choose “the most outstanding college football player in the United States for 2008,” and not the player with the gaudiest numbers, the choice is clearly Tebow.
Selecting Tebow has nothing to do with making him the second back-to-back winner in Heisman history. (Archie Griffin – 1975-75 – from the Horrible School was the first.) It’s more about the evidence that while Bradford was amazing and McCoy indispensable, Tebow had a greater impact on his team’s success and also played the game at a higher and more complete level than anyone else. Ask yourself a question; whom would you rather have to start a team, Tebow or anyone else? If you’re being honest, it’s hard to pick against the Gator.
Back in mid-November, El Hombre asked an SEC defensive coordinator whether he felt Tebow was playing better than he did last year, despite a significant drop in statistics. The answer was yes. He was operating Florida’s offense more completely and lifting the Gator attack to a higher level than he had the previous year. Yes, in Percy Harvin and young speedsters Chris Rainey and Jeffrey Demps, he had some more weapons than in ’07, but while Harvin was an all-purpose sensation, and the others had tremendous big-play talent, none would have achieved anywhere near what he did without Tebow’s facility for the UF system. As the year went on, it also became clear that Tebow’s will to win, especially after the upset loss to Mississippi, was a huge factor in the team’s run to an SEC title and a berth in the BCS “national championship game.”
This is not to disparage Bradford or McCoy. All McCoy did was lead his team to an 11-1 record, including a neutral-site triumph over Oklahoma that apparently didn’t matter in the “every week is a playoff” argument favored by BCS chowderheads. He threw for 3,445 yards and 32 touchdowns, completed an obscene 77.6% of his passes and led Texas with 576 yards rushing (4.5 average). Not too shabby. On the Hombre ballot, McCoy checked in at number two, with only Tebow’s ferocious competitiveness separating the pair.
Bradford’s stats are even more jaw-dropping. The OU sophomore threw for 4,464 yards and 48 touchdowns while completing 68.3% of his throws. He led the Sooners to an unprecedented five straight 60-point orgies (and four others that topped 50), a staggering assault on the scoreboard that made some of Barry Switzer’s old Oklahoma wishbone carnivals look like grind-it-out operations. The one check against Bradford in the ultimate ledger is the Sooner ground game, which aided him immensely. Two OU backs, DeMarco Murray and Chris Brown, rushed for at least 1,000 yards, and the pair combined for 34 touchdowns. It makes one wonder whether Bradford would have had the same level of success without such tremendous balance.
As for Texas Tech’s Graham Harrell, who was a victim of “politics,” according to Red Raider coach Mike Leach – yeah, right – consider that a bulk of his prodigious passing total came against overwhelmed opponents (including two I-AA clubs) and in the biggest game in school history, he and his frightened teammates performed with the same valor of the French army in the path of advancing panzer divisions back in ‘40.
So, the choice is Tebow, and not because he’s going to be a great pro or has the biggest numeric resume. It’s because when one looks for the “most outstanding football player” around, it’s best to pick the man who would be willing and able to do things beyond his job description to help his team win. Had Carm Cozza let Dowling loose against Harvard in ’68, he might have quelled the uprising. Forty years later, Tebow has the same talent and drive. That’s certainly worth another trophy.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The Yankees made quite a splash by promising to pay C.C. Sabathia an average of $23 million for each of the next seven seasons. When will these teams learn that spending that much on starting pitching is a huge risk? First off, Sabathia had to be convinced to play in New York, so a tabloid-induced meltdown is possible. Secondly, the lessons of Kevin Brown, Barry Zito and others are apparently lost on the Yanks. It looks great now, but check back in a couple years…The jurisprudence department has been busy lately, what with Quick Draw Burress and O.J. Simpson’s making headlines. The real sin of O.J.’s pending incarceration is that he will now lose nine years of prime investigating time to look for the real killers…China has admitted that 36 players in its professional basketball league are older than they claimed, a shocking revelation in the wake of the Olympics, when women were spotted breast-feeding some of the Chinese female gymnasts…Creditors have objected to Michael Vick’s bankruptcy statement, citing large, unspecified cash advances – in the millions – over the past couple years and wondering if that dough has been stashed somewhere. From here, it looks completely reasonable. After all, it costs a lot of money to take care of dogs, what with the food, shelter, grooming, electric cattle prods, teeth sharpening…
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Last night’s loss to the Cavaliers once again revealed the Sixers’ inability to play defense and amplified the team’s offensive confusion. But at least the team learned the Andre Iguodala is better suited at small forward than shooting guard. What a revelation! Everybody in the city knew that, except the team’s management, which lavished a fat contract on Iguodala during the off-season, despite having a budding young star – Thaddeus Young – at the position as well. Now that the two guard experiment is over with A.I. Jr., the Sixers are faced with a glut of talent at one spot and inadequate forces at the pivot and the two. They are up against the cap and in danger of losing point man Andre Miller after the season. Oh, and don’t go looking for any passion from the team, because it’s not there. What began as such a promising season for the team is threatening to crash and burn. Plenty of time remains, but things are getting scary.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Researchers continue to zero in on an accurate urine test that will reveal whether athletes used HGH. Talk about a bonanza. Let’s hope the various professional sporting organizations across the world have saved specimens properly, in order to test them down the road, once the scientists perfect the process. The most pressing need for the test is in Majoke League Baseball, where steroid cheats have been outed – sort of – but the HGH users remain at large, with a few exceptions. Since a few years of samples remain, the possibility that plenty more cheaters can be identified is reason for optimism. Give those guys as much money and whatever resources they need, so they can get the job done.
--EH--
In November 1968, Yale was charging toward its first perfect season in eight years and only second since ’23, when Thomas Albert Dwight (T.A.D.) Jones was telling his young Eli charges “You are now going to play football against Harvard. Never again in your whole life will you do anything so important.”
The Bulldogs understood fully the gravity of their pending season finale with the Johnnies. Triumph, and immortality would be theirs. Senior quarterback Brian Dowling was particularly intent on winning, since he hadn’t suffered a defeat on the gridiron in a game he had finished since 7th grade, an accomplishment that earned him the nickname, “God,” on the Yale campus and a caricature in Doonesbury a few years later.
For three-plus quarters, God and his teammates kept things under control, rolling to a 29-13 lead. College football fans know what happened next. The Crimson launched one of the most amazing comebacks in football history, scoring 16 points in the final 0:29 to “beat” Yale, 29-29. During those last frantic moments, when everything was unraveling for Dowling and the Eli, he stood on the sideline next to coach Carm Cozza and begged to go in on defense. “Being a quarterback, you know what the other passer is trying to do,” Dowling said. Cozza refused, in part because he couldn’t believe the Crimson would complete its comeback and in part because had Harvard succeeded while Dowling was on the field, Cozza would have faced ridicule. “Don’t think it didn’t enter my mind,” Cozza said. “It did.”
After watching Tim Tebow play for Florida this season, it’s hard to imagine he would have behaved any differently than Dowling, had he found himself in a similar situation. While other quarterbacks might have sat on the sideline stewing but relieved that any misfortune about to befall their school was somebody else’s fault, Tebow would have had his helmet on, asking to be put in at linebacker or safety, the better to end the nonsense. The Gator junior isn’t just a quarterback; he’s a football player. And when it came time for El Hombre to cast his 2008 Heisman Trophy ballot – a whopping two days early this year – Tebow was the choice.
There will be a substantial groundswell for each of the other finalists, Oklahoma statistical machine Sam Bradford and Texas all-purpose phenom Colt McCoy. But since the rules of the Heisman direct voters to choose “the most outstanding college football player in the United States for 2008,” and not the player with the gaudiest numbers, the choice is clearly Tebow.
Selecting Tebow has nothing to do with making him the second back-to-back winner in Heisman history. (Archie Griffin – 1975-75 – from the Horrible School was the first.) It’s more about the evidence that while Bradford was amazing and McCoy indispensable, Tebow had a greater impact on his team’s success and also played the game at a higher and more complete level than anyone else. Ask yourself a question; whom would you rather have to start a team, Tebow or anyone else? If you’re being honest, it’s hard to pick against the Gator.
Back in mid-November, El Hombre asked an SEC defensive coordinator whether he felt Tebow was playing better than he did last year, despite a significant drop in statistics. The answer was yes. He was operating Florida’s offense more completely and lifting the Gator attack to a higher level than he had the previous year. Yes, in Percy Harvin and young speedsters Chris Rainey and Jeffrey Demps, he had some more weapons than in ’07, but while Harvin was an all-purpose sensation, and the others had tremendous big-play talent, none would have achieved anywhere near what he did without Tebow’s facility for the UF system. As the year went on, it also became clear that Tebow’s will to win, especially after the upset loss to Mississippi, was a huge factor in the team’s run to an SEC title and a berth in the BCS “national championship game.”
This is not to disparage Bradford or McCoy. All McCoy did was lead his team to an 11-1 record, including a neutral-site triumph over Oklahoma that apparently didn’t matter in the “every week is a playoff” argument favored by BCS chowderheads. He threw for 3,445 yards and 32 touchdowns, completed an obscene 77.6% of his passes and led Texas with 576 yards rushing (4.5 average). Not too shabby. On the Hombre ballot, McCoy checked in at number two, with only Tebow’s ferocious competitiveness separating the pair.
Bradford’s stats are even more jaw-dropping. The OU sophomore threw for 4,464 yards and 48 touchdowns while completing 68.3% of his throws. He led the Sooners to an unprecedented five straight 60-point orgies (and four others that topped 50), a staggering assault on the scoreboard that made some of Barry Switzer’s old Oklahoma wishbone carnivals look like grind-it-out operations. The one check against Bradford in the ultimate ledger is the Sooner ground game, which aided him immensely. Two OU backs, DeMarco Murray and Chris Brown, rushed for at least 1,000 yards, and the pair combined for 34 touchdowns. It makes one wonder whether Bradford would have had the same level of success without such tremendous balance.
As for Texas Tech’s Graham Harrell, who was a victim of “politics,” according to Red Raider coach Mike Leach – yeah, right – consider that a bulk of his prodigious passing total came against overwhelmed opponents (including two I-AA clubs) and in the biggest game in school history, he and his frightened teammates performed with the same valor of the French army in the path of advancing panzer divisions back in ‘40.
So, the choice is Tebow, and not because he’s going to be a great pro or has the biggest numeric resume. It’s because when one looks for the “most outstanding football player” around, it’s best to pick the man who would be willing and able to do things beyond his job description to help his team win. Had Carm Cozza let Dowling loose against Harvard in ’68, he might have quelled the uprising. Forty years later, Tebow has the same talent and drive. That’s certainly worth another trophy.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The Yankees made quite a splash by promising to pay C.C. Sabathia an average of $23 million for each of the next seven seasons. When will these teams learn that spending that much on starting pitching is a huge risk? First off, Sabathia had to be convinced to play in New York, so a tabloid-induced meltdown is possible. Secondly, the lessons of Kevin Brown, Barry Zito and others are apparently lost on the Yanks. It looks great now, but check back in a couple years…The jurisprudence department has been busy lately, what with Quick Draw Burress and O.J. Simpson’s making headlines. The real sin of O.J.’s pending incarceration is that he will now lose nine years of prime investigating time to look for the real killers…China has admitted that 36 players in its professional basketball league are older than they claimed, a shocking revelation in the wake of the Olympics, when women were spotted breast-feeding some of the Chinese female gymnasts…Creditors have objected to Michael Vick’s bankruptcy statement, citing large, unspecified cash advances – in the millions – over the past couple years and wondering if that dough has been stashed somewhere. From here, it looks completely reasonable. After all, it costs a lot of money to take care of dogs, what with the food, shelter, grooming, electric cattle prods, teeth sharpening…
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Last night’s loss to the Cavaliers once again revealed the Sixers’ inability to play defense and amplified the team’s offensive confusion. But at least the team learned the Andre Iguodala is better suited at small forward than shooting guard. What a revelation! Everybody in the city knew that, except the team’s management, which lavished a fat contract on Iguodala during the off-season, despite having a budding young star – Thaddeus Young – at the position as well. Now that the two guard experiment is over with A.I. Jr., the Sixers are faced with a glut of talent at one spot and inadequate forces at the pivot and the two. They are up against the cap and in danger of losing point man Andre Miller after the season. Oh, and don’t go looking for any passion from the team, because it’s not there. What began as such a promising season for the team is threatening to crash and burn. Plenty of time remains, but things are getting scary.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Researchers continue to zero in on an accurate urine test that will reveal whether athletes used HGH. Talk about a bonanza. Let’s hope the various professional sporting organizations across the world have saved specimens properly, in order to test them down the road, once the scientists perfect the process. The most pressing need for the test is in Majoke League Baseball, where steroid cheats have been outed – sort of – but the HGH users remain at large, with a few exceptions. Since a few years of samples remain, the possibility that plenty more cheaters can be identified is reason for optimism. Give those guys as much money and whatever resources they need, so they can get the job done.
--EH--
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The Four Horsemen of Greed
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Outlined against a greenbacked November sky, the Four Horsemen rode again. In dramatic lore they are known as famine, pestilence, destruction and death. They are only aliases. Their real names are Greed, Avarice, Gluttony and Self-Indulgence. (With apologies to Grantland Rice)
The news came down earlier this week and was supposed to be a reason for great joy among college football fans. espn now owned the rights to the Bowl Championship Series, that rotten, flaking rash on the visage of America’s Greatest Sport. Locked it up through 2014. And not just the broadcast rights, either. Nope, the four-letter folks from Bristol will also market the games, assuring proper synergy for the products and guaranteeing a constant stream of BCS propaganda designed to benumb fans and drive heretic ideas of a playoff from their soft minds.
Since the Disney/espn/ABC “family” of networks fairly dominates the college football TV landscape, we can look forward to a barrage of rationalizations for why a contrived, jury-rigged system is preferable to deciding a championship on the field. We can also count on continued use of ridiculously themed weeks of action, such as “High-Colonic Saturday” and “The Final Verdict.” Can’t wait for the cross-promotional possibilities, like “Desperate Housewives Meet The Ol’ Ball Coach.” Worse, we won’t hear a legitimate dissenting opinion about the BCS from anyone with true authority at the four-letter compound, for fear of turning people off from their own programming. If there are four undefeated teams from big-time conferences in a couple years, and only two of them can play in the BCS “title game,” the other two might as well be from the Sun Belt Conference, even if they’re USC and Alabama.
So, we’re stuck with this mess for the next six years. If college football wants to be a joke for the money, that’s how it’s going to roll. But let’s hope this puts an end to the asinine arguments that the BCS system exists to protect the student-athlete. It’s all about the cabbage. This week’s series in USA Today clearly demonstrates how little the academic institutions that comprise the NC2A’s gridiron-industrial complex care about the young men who toil for the greater glory of State or Tech. In an effort to give the illusion that players are being educated, schools funnel them into phony-baloney programs that wouldn’t tax The Three Stooges’ brainpower. Wednesday, USA Today provided several examples of players who were discouraged from pursuing majors that might interfere with their responsibilities on the football field.
Kansas State defensive lineman Steven Cline arrived in Manhattan with a dream of becoming a veterinarian. But when he struggled in biology, the Wildcats’ academic counselor encouraged him to drop down a few cranial notches to “social sciences,” a rag-tag collection of courses that produces a degree in Nothing Much. Today, Cline is working construction so he can raise enough money to go back to school to pursue veterinary medicine. Instead of making full use of his free ride, he came away with a degree that gave him few legitimate skills in a Speedo-tight job market. Sure, he could have fought harder for his dream, but when advisors at the school are directing kids toward courses of study designed to clear their schedules for more football, it’s an indication just how little schools care about them.
It’s all a by-product of the NC2A’s response to the furor that arose over SAT/ACT scores’ determining eligibility for prospective players. Since the test scores were judged to be biased or poor indicators of future performance, the focus shifted to classwork as the main criteria for athletic eligibility. Do well enough in high school, and you can play right away – even if the prospect’s curriculum in no way prepared him for college work. At the same time, the NC2A decided athletes should be making sufficient progress toward degrees, a noble pursuit. There was a catch: since many of them entered school unprepared to do college work, especially with a year-round gridiron commitment, there was no way they could be expected to thrive in traditional major programs. So, schools began to channel players onto the soft track. They enroll in “social sciences,” as Cline and many of his teammates did. They are shunted into “general studies,” a nebulous collection of courses designed to accumulate credits but not develop skills. There are other favorites throughout the country, like Criminology and Kinesiology, which can be a legitimate pursuit but is often a fancy word for Phys. Ed. Twenty-seven of the returning players at Florida this year listed social and behavioral science as their course of study, while athletic coaching education is big at West Virginia (16 returnees).
The good news is that these players accumulate sufficient credits to satisfy the NC2A requirements and keep their schools on the right side of the ledger. The bad news is that it’s tough to translate many of the majors – provided the players graduate – into something that might entice an employer. So, when the final gun sounds, if the NFL doesn’t beckon, and it rarely does, players have spent four years on campus playing football and getting through classwork that has little pertinence in the real world. That’s the real crime, not an extra game or two in the playoffs.
It’s funny, but few people spoke out (former Michigan coach Lloyd Carr was one of the dissenters), when the NC2A allowed schools to add a 12th game to their schedules. And where is the outrage at Washington State or Cincinnati, who will play a 13th game (and in Cincy’s case, a bowl) because late-season trips to Hawaii are exempt from the dozen-a-year limit? There is none. Coaches say the trip to the islands is a “reward” for the players. It really is a recruiting tool that allows pitchmen to sell prospects on a paradise vacation if they choose Fort Knox U. And it’s a drain on players, who wear down as the season goes on and don’t see any of the money that flows in from extra games. And don’t try that old saw about how they get “a free education.” We’ve seen exactly what kind of training they get.
The BCS lives on, thanks to espn, the Pac-10 and Big 10’s Paleolithic love of the Rose Bowl and a governing body that dares not flex its muscles to create a playoff (which it has in every other football division), lest it watch its biggest schools break off and form their own confederation. Try to enjoy it but remember to keep the Compazine handy when the school presidents and ADs start to talk about how the bowl system works best for the “student-athlete.”
You’re going to need it to keep from vomiting.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: What a shock that Nuggets coach George Karl has no remorse about the trade that sent Allen Iverson to Detroit. He spoke of the difficulties running an offense with a shoot-first (and second and third) “point” guard and didn’t seem to miss the 15-20 bad possessions a game during Iverson’s tenure. Since A.I.’s departure, the Nugs have won seven of eight, and Karl is beaming. Go figure…Wednesday, top Princeton chess players traveled to New Jersey State Prison to play against inmates in one of the most intimidating home-court advantages in the country. All went well until someone noticed that Black-Eyed Johnny’s rook was really a shank…Former Argentine soccer legend and serial bad boy Diego Maradona made his debut as coach of his country’s national team Wednesday, leading his side to a 1-0 win over Scotland in Glasgow. Maradona is making his players adhere to a strict training regimen that includes no more than a pack of cigarettes, two grams of loco powder and 18 beers a day…Hats off to golfer J.P. Hayes, who disqualified himself from the PGA Qualifying Tournament when he realized he had played a round with a ball not sanctioned for competition. In a world where steroid use is covered up, videotaping of opponents’ signals is greeted with a slap on the wrist, and athletes and owners are ever-greedier, it’s nice to see some integrity. There ought to be a statue of the guy somewhere.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Okay, so Donovan McNabb didn’t know there could be only one overtime period in an NFL game. That’s pretty silly. But Philadelphia fans – and columnists/analysts/blowhards – are missing the point about the Eagles QB: he has been rotten of late. You may want to make OT-gate a metaphor for his time in town, but that is simple and off base. On average, McNabb is more cerebral and thoughtful than most athletes who come through here, so his lack of knowledge about overtime is an isolated incident and not proof he should be dispatched to the CFL. More damning is his poor play in the last four games. He has been inaccurate and even tentative, not wanting to run and unable to get the ball to receivers in a timely fashion. He is Exhibit A on a team that lacks playmakers and is not constructed nor coached properly in an NFL that no longer is dazzled by the West Coast offense. McNabb will likely be elsewhere next season, but plenty of his current mates had better be wearing different uniforms, too. This isn’t a good football team right now, and substantive changes have to be made. If that means getting rid of McNabb, so be it. But judge him on his play, not one dumb mistake.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Michigan fans are advised to avert their eyes Saturday when the Wolverines travel to Columbus for what promises to be a hideous beat-down. Say what you want about playing a spoiler’s role or “making its season” with a win over the Horrible People, but there is no chance of that happening. None. Michigan is an awful team with no quarterback and a defense that has rarely played to its potential. Worse (if that’s possible), first-year coach Rich Rodriguez has angered alumni with his unwillingness to embrace the tradition of a program that drips with the stuff. There are some pretty interesting whisperings out there, beginning with the rumor that Rodriguez may end up at Clemson next year, because of his ties to the school and the mutual loathing between him and U-M. A more likely scenario involves the firing of defensive coordinator Scott Shafer and a circle-the-wagons approach to next season. Stay tuned – just not to Saturday’s game, unless you are a fan of carnage.
* * *
ONE FOR THE ROAD: Q: How can you tell an Ohio State fan has a girlfriend? A: There’s tobacco juice on both the driver and passenger’s doors of the pickup.
-EH-
Outlined against a greenbacked November sky, the Four Horsemen rode again. In dramatic lore they are known as famine, pestilence, destruction and death. They are only aliases. Their real names are Greed, Avarice, Gluttony and Self-Indulgence. (With apologies to Grantland Rice)
The news came down earlier this week and was supposed to be a reason for great joy among college football fans. espn now owned the rights to the Bowl Championship Series, that rotten, flaking rash on the visage of America’s Greatest Sport. Locked it up through 2014. And not just the broadcast rights, either. Nope, the four-letter folks from Bristol will also market the games, assuring proper synergy for the products and guaranteeing a constant stream of BCS propaganda designed to benumb fans and drive heretic ideas of a playoff from their soft minds.
Since the Disney/espn/ABC “family” of networks fairly dominates the college football TV landscape, we can look forward to a barrage of rationalizations for why a contrived, jury-rigged system is preferable to deciding a championship on the field. We can also count on continued use of ridiculously themed weeks of action, such as “High-Colonic Saturday” and “The Final Verdict.” Can’t wait for the cross-promotional possibilities, like “Desperate Housewives Meet The Ol’ Ball Coach.” Worse, we won’t hear a legitimate dissenting opinion about the BCS from anyone with true authority at the four-letter compound, for fear of turning people off from their own programming. If there are four undefeated teams from big-time conferences in a couple years, and only two of them can play in the BCS “title game,” the other two might as well be from the Sun Belt Conference, even if they’re USC and Alabama.
So, we’re stuck with this mess for the next six years. If college football wants to be a joke for the money, that’s how it’s going to roll. But let’s hope this puts an end to the asinine arguments that the BCS system exists to protect the student-athlete. It’s all about the cabbage. This week’s series in USA Today clearly demonstrates how little the academic institutions that comprise the NC2A’s gridiron-industrial complex care about the young men who toil for the greater glory of State or Tech. In an effort to give the illusion that players are being educated, schools funnel them into phony-baloney programs that wouldn’t tax The Three Stooges’ brainpower. Wednesday, USA Today provided several examples of players who were discouraged from pursuing majors that might interfere with their responsibilities on the football field.
Kansas State defensive lineman Steven Cline arrived in Manhattan with a dream of becoming a veterinarian. But when he struggled in biology, the Wildcats’ academic counselor encouraged him to drop down a few cranial notches to “social sciences,” a rag-tag collection of courses that produces a degree in Nothing Much. Today, Cline is working construction so he can raise enough money to go back to school to pursue veterinary medicine. Instead of making full use of his free ride, he came away with a degree that gave him few legitimate skills in a Speedo-tight job market. Sure, he could have fought harder for his dream, but when advisors at the school are directing kids toward courses of study designed to clear their schedules for more football, it’s an indication just how little schools care about them.
It’s all a by-product of the NC2A’s response to the furor that arose over SAT/ACT scores’ determining eligibility for prospective players. Since the test scores were judged to be biased or poor indicators of future performance, the focus shifted to classwork as the main criteria for athletic eligibility. Do well enough in high school, and you can play right away – even if the prospect’s curriculum in no way prepared him for college work. At the same time, the NC2A decided athletes should be making sufficient progress toward degrees, a noble pursuit. There was a catch: since many of them entered school unprepared to do college work, especially with a year-round gridiron commitment, there was no way they could be expected to thrive in traditional major programs. So, schools began to channel players onto the soft track. They enroll in “social sciences,” as Cline and many of his teammates did. They are shunted into “general studies,” a nebulous collection of courses designed to accumulate credits but not develop skills. There are other favorites throughout the country, like Criminology and Kinesiology, which can be a legitimate pursuit but is often a fancy word for Phys. Ed. Twenty-seven of the returning players at Florida this year listed social and behavioral science as their course of study, while athletic coaching education is big at West Virginia (16 returnees).
The good news is that these players accumulate sufficient credits to satisfy the NC2A requirements and keep their schools on the right side of the ledger. The bad news is that it’s tough to translate many of the majors – provided the players graduate – into something that might entice an employer. So, when the final gun sounds, if the NFL doesn’t beckon, and it rarely does, players have spent four years on campus playing football and getting through classwork that has little pertinence in the real world. That’s the real crime, not an extra game or two in the playoffs.
It’s funny, but few people spoke out (former Michigan coach Lloyd Carr was one of the dissenters), when the NC2A allowed schools to add a 12th game to their schedules. And where is the outrage at Washington State or Cincinnati, who will play a 13th game (and in Cincy’s case, a bowl) because late-season trips to Hawaii are exempt from the dozen-a-year limit? There is none. Coaches say the trip to the islands is a “reward” for the players. It really is a recruiting tool that allows pitchmen to sell prospects on a paradise vacation if they choose Fort Knox U. And it’s a drain on players, who wear down as the season goes on and don’t see any of the money that flows in from extra games. And don’t try that old saw about how they get “a free education.” We’ve seen exactly what kind of training they get.
The BCS lives on, thanks to espn, the Pac-10 and Big 10’s Paleolithic love of the Rose Bowl and a governing body that dares not flex its muscles to create a playoff (which it has in every other football division), lest it watch its biggest schools break off and form their own confederation. Try to enjoy it but remember to keep the Compazine handy when the school presidents and ADs start to talk about how the bowl system works best for the “student-athlete.”
You’re going to need it to keep from vomiting.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: What a shock that Nuggets coach George Karl has no remorse about the trade that sent Allen Iverson to Detroit. He spoke of the difficulties running an offense with a shoot-first (and second and third) “point” guard and didn’t seem to miss the 15-20 bad possessions a game during Iverson’s tenure. Since A.I.’s departure, the Nugs have won seven of eight, and Karl is beaming. Go figure…Wednesday, top Princeton chess players traveled to New Jersey State Prison to play against inmates in one of the most intimidating home-court advantages in the country. All went well until someone noticed that Black-Eyed Johnny’s rook was really a shank…Former Argentine soccer legend and serial bad boy Diego Maradona made his debut as coach of his country’s national team Wednesday, leading his side to a 1-0 win over Scotland in Glasgow. Maradona is making his players adhere to a strict training regimen that includes no more than a pack of cigarettes, two grams of loco powder and 18 beers a day…Hats off to golfer J.P. Hayes, who disqualified himself from the PGA Qualifying Tournament when he realized he had played a round with a ball not sanctioned for competition. In a world where steroid use is covered up, videotaping of opponents’ signals is greeted with a slap on the wrist, and athletes and owners are ever-greedier, it’s nice to see some integrity. There ought to be a statue of the guy somewhere.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Okay, so Donovan McNabb didn’t know there could be only one overtime period in an NFL game. That’s pretty silly. But Philadelphia fans – and columnists/analysts/blowhards – are missing the point about the Eagles QB: he has been rotten of late. You may want to make OT-gate a metaphor for his time in town, but that is simple and off base. On average, McNabb is more cerebral and thoughtful than most athletes who come through here, so his lack of knowledge about overtime is an isolated incident and not proof he should be dispatched to the CFL. More damning is his poor play in the last four games. He has been inaccurate and even tentative, not wanting to run and unable to get the ball to receivers in a timely fashion. He is Exhibit A on a team that lacks playmakers and is not constructed nor coached properly in an NFL that no longer is dazzled by the West Coast offense. McNabb will likely be elsewhere next season, but plenty of his current mates had better be wearing different uniforms, too. This isn’t a good football team right now, and substantive changes have to be made. If that means getting rid of McNabb, so be it. But judge him on his play, not one dumb mistake.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Michigan fans are advised to avert their eyes Saturday when the Wolverines travel to Columbus for what promises to be a hideous beat-down. Say what you want about playing a spoiler’s role or “making its season” with a win over the Horrible People, but there is no chance of that happening. None. Michigan is an awful team with no quarterback and a defense that has rarely played to its potential. Worse (if that’s possible), first-year coach Rich Rodriguez has angered alumni with his unwillingness to embrace the tradition of a program that drips with the stuff. There are some pretty interesting whisperings out there, beginning with the rumor that Rodriguez may end up at Clemson next year, because of his ties to the school and the mutual loathing between him and U-M. A more likely scenario involves the firing of defensive coordinator Scott Shafer and a circle-the-wagons approach to next season. Stay tuned – just not to Saturday’s game, unless you are a fan of carnage.
* * *
ONE FOR THE ROAD: Q: How can you tell an Ohio State fan has a girlfriend? A: There’s tobacco juice on both the driver and passenger’s doors of the pickup.
-EH-
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Hoopheads Unite: It's College Basketball Time
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Admit it, hoopheads, no matter how much you love the college game, it’s hard to get too fired up about that North Carolina-Penn contest more than a week before Thanksgiving. It’s football season, and even though the BCS is asinine (its ludicrous quotient is beyond the concept of Paris Hilton as Secretary of State), we’re still focused on the prolate spheroid.
But the games have already started, common sense be damned. So it’s time to gaze into the crystal pumpkin, get a look at the upcoming season and thank the Lord for the mute button whenever Jay Bilas starts to talk.
Pack-ing Up: At the end of each season, fans around the country mourn the losses of players who move on, early or otherwise, and deal with the moves made by coaches from one program to another. Rarely does the departure of someone broadcasting the game get that much attention – or celebration – but CBS’ decision to jettison Billy Packer as the lead analyst on its telecasts was cause for much rejoicing. For more than 30 years, the cranky ACC-loving grouch pursued his big-school agenda on NBC and CBS. He railed against the inclusion of more mid-majors in the tournament, acted petulant when challenged and generally behaved as if he created big-time college basketball. Replacing him with Clark Kellogg was masterstroke and should help make CBS’ insufferable coverage of the sport far less tedious. Now, about Dookie V…
No-K: Now that he’s led the U.S. to Olympic gold and solidified his status among the naïve as a true leader of men, what does Mike Krzyzewski do for an encore? Lose in the second round of the tournament again, of course. Coach K may be working on a book with his daughter about his Beijing success, but the overriding theme had better be “Lithuania ain’t got nothing on LeBron and Kobe.” We’ll hear all season about how great an educator and motivator Krzyzewski is, and his team will be ranked artificially high, but come tourney time his undersized group of jump shooters will lose to a more athletic team early on. Meanwhile, not a word will be written about his ref-baiting or profanity laced practice tirades. Enjoy the Final Four from the stands – again.
DON’T DO IT! Mr. Personality gets even more air time this season, thanks to espn’s decision to use him in the studio and as a color analyst. It’s all part of Generalissimo Knight’s master plan to convince some school that his special brand of insight and earthy charm would be perfect to fix its on-court ills. But buyers beware. Knight may seem like he has mellowed while Rece Davis fawns over him and Digger Phelps does everything possible to avoid getting punched in the mouth, but the man hasn’t changed a bit. If a school president is dumb enough to hire him, Knight will bring the same boorish act to campus, complete with his browbeating practice style and arrogant treatment of anyone who dares question him. The best penance Knight can do for a career of abusive behavior can be to spend his remaining years as part of the same media he ridiculed for so long.
St. Patty: If you live in the Eastern or Central time zones, it can be tough to stay up long enough to catch those WCC tilts at midnight. But if you get the chance to watch St. Mary’s play this year, it would be worth a couple Vivarin and a sleepy day on the job to tune in, if only to watch 6-0 point man Patrick Mills. All the Aussie did during the Olympics was light up the U.S. for 20 in the quarterfinals and force Chris Paul to find an extra gear to guard him. Mills isn’t perfect, because his shot needs work, but anybody who can force the NBA’s best to step it up deserves your attention. Other mid-major gems worth seeing: Illinois State guard Osiris Eldridge, Louisiana Tech center Magnum Rolle, Cleveland State forward J’Nathan Bullock, UTEP guard Stefon Jackson and Western Michigan’s David Kool, among many others.
Psycho T’s Final Stand: There has never been a four-time first-team all-America player, until this year. North Carolina forward Tyler Hansbrough is almost guaranteed to be on everybody’s list of top five players, unless the stress reaction in his shin blossoms into a full-fledged medical nightmare. (It won’t.) Yet about three weeks after Hansbrough’s last hurrah, most likely in the Final Four, we will start hearing just how bad a basketball player he is. No one in the college ranks will commit this heresy; rather, NBA scouts, analysts, GMs and draftniks will proclaim the 6-8 (he’s probably 6-7) power forward unfit for professional ball. Pity. Hansbrough is likely a role player in the Association, but who cares? He will leave Carolina as one of the most accomplished players in that school’s distinguished history and should be lauded for that, not knocked down because his jumper isn’t NBA caliber. If you enjoy college basketball, watch Hansbrough. If you prefer to focus on how everybody does in the NBA, tune in to that Clippers-Grizz tussle.
Long Range Adjustment: Ask Davidson sharpshooter Stephen Curry about the NC2A’s decision to move the three-point line back a foot but don’t expect a dramatic answer. “I noticed when they painted it on the court, because it’s a different color,” he says. “That’s it.” The college trey barrier is now 20 feet, nine inches from the hoop, a change that might cause a 6-10 wanna-be guard to re-think his strategy, but should have no effect at all on the likes of Curry, who wasn’t exactly hanging right on the old line’s edge to begin with. The benefit to the game will come if offenses move more freely inside the arc, making use of the extra room. Then again, since the mid-range game is all but non-existent in college ball, the move might just lower three-point shooting percentages and do little else.
On To Detroit: The college basketball community gets quite a treat this season, since the Final Four will be at Ford Field in Dee-troit. Not to bash the Motor City, since American automobile customers already have that job well in hand, but just having a dome doesn’t make a city a prime candidate to host something like this. There are no restaurants or bars near the stadium, and early-April weather in Michigan is as unpredictable as a teenager’s mood. But once everybody gets inside, the magic starts. So, who will be there? How about Louisville, Texas, North Carolina and Pittsburgh? A UNC-Texas final yields a championship for the Tar Heels, who erase (mostly) the images of last year’s ugly collapse in the national semis.
The rest of the Elite Eight: UCLA, Connecticut, Michigan State, Oklahoma.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: In a move designed to give fans a break in a tough economy, the NFL announced it was reducing the price of playoff tickets by 10%. Of course, the Raiders are already ahead of Roger Goodell and the boys. By stinking so thoroughly, Oakland guarantees fans won’t have to put out any hard-earned cash for post-season ducats…In the wake of the death of promising Russian hockey star Alexei Cherepanov, heart defects have been found in five other players in the Russian Hockey League. In a related story, no heart has been found in any of the Tronno Maple Laughs…A six-month investigation in Queens uncovered a bookmaking operation that did an estimated $30 million in business on college and pro football games. Detectives placed bets from March through September and would have shut the thing down earlier, but they kept winning…NASCAR president Todd France is none too happy with ABC’s decision to cut away from the last few laps of last week’s left-turn-athon in Phoenix to air “America’s Funniest Home Videos.” Trouble is, fans aren’t too upset, since they thought the show was actual footage of what was going on in the infield during the race…Mets third baseman David Wright expects his team to make “significant” moves during the off-season, with the goal of the team’s making it to the last week of the season before choking away its lead in the standings.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Somewhere, tucked into the bottom of a drawer in Eagles coach Andy Reid’s desk is a picture of team owner Jeffrey Lurie in a compromising pose with a goat. That’s about the only way to explain why Le Grande Orange continues to wear both the coach and GM hats for the team. It is becoming more and more obvious that the Eagles aren’t constructed to play football the way it is played these days. They have no power running game and no way to stop the run consistently. They don’t get a pass rush with just four lineman, and they lack a big-time wide receiver, although DeSean Jackson has potential. When Reid says the team is good enough to win, he is either impugning his coaching ability or showing a crashing lack of objectivity when regarding his roster. If the Eagles miss the post-season for the third time in four years, substantive changes must be made, starting at the top. It may not be time to cut Reid loose completely, especially since he’s owed about $4.2 million in ’09 and ’10. But he needs to lose the personnel responsibilities and concentrate on coaching the team. Of course, the franchise’s bottom line remains fat, no matter what the team does on the field, but that won’t last forever, particularly if the Eagles can’t survive the tough NFC East.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Notre Dame heads into its game against Navy 1-15 in its last 16 tilts against teams with winning records. The Fighting Irish looked impotent in last week’s loss to Boston College. Yet AD Jack Beancounter says Pear Bryant (Thanks to TC from BC) is safe. Funny, but Charlie Weis’ winning percentage of .586 is three-thousandths better than Ty Willingham’s, and his 26 wins are two fewer than Bob Davie had at this point in his tenure. Guess overpowering arrogance counts for something these days. The bigger joke? Even if the Irish end the season 7-5, we will still be subjected to them on New Year’s Day, because the Gator Bowl has all but promised them a berth, thanks to a shaky economy that could limit the travel plans of fans from another school. After the indignity of watching our investment portfolios crumble, we now have to see Heavy C and his underachieving team in the national spotlight. And you think college football doesn’t need an enema?
-EH-
Admit it, hoopheads, no matter how much you love the college game, it’s hard to get too fired up about that North Carolina-Penn contest more than a week before Thanksgiving. It’s football season, and even though the BCS is asinine (its ludicrous quotient is beyond the concept of Paris Hilton as Secretary of State), we’re still focused on the prolate spheroid.
But the games have already started, common sense be damned. So it’s time to gaze into the crystal pumpkin, get a look at the upcoming season and thank the Lord for the mute button whenever Jay Bilas starts to talk.
Pack-ing Up: At the end of each season, fans around the country mourn the losses of players who move on, early or otherwise, and deal with the moves made by coaches from one program to another. Rarely does the departure of someone broadcasting the game get that much attention – or celebration – but CBS’ decision to jettison Billy Packer as the lead analyst on its telecasts was cause for much rejoicing. For more than 30 years, the cranky ACC-loving grouch pursued his big-school agenda on NBC and CBS. He railed against the inclusion of more mid-majors in the tournament, acted petulant when challenged and generally behaved as if he created big-time college basketball. Replacing him with Clark Kellogg was masterstroke and should help make CBS’ insufferable coverage of the sport far less tedious. Now, about Dookie V…
No-K: Now that he’s led the U.S. to Olympic gold and solidified his status among the naïve as a true leader of men, what does Mike Krzyzewski do for an encore? Lose in the second round of the tournament again, of course. Coach K may be working on a book with his daughter about his Beijing success, but the overriding theme had better be “Lithuania ain’t got nothing on LeBron and Kobe.” We’ll hear all season about how great an educator and motivator Krzyzewski is, and his team will be ranked artificially high, but come tourney time his undersized group of jump shooters will lose to a more athletic team early on. Meanwhile, not a word will be written about his ref-baiting or profanity laced practice tirades. Enjoy the Final Four from the stands – again.
DON’T DO IT! Mr. Personality gets even more air time this season, thanks to espn’s decision to use him in the studio and as a color analyst. It’s all part of Generalissimo Knight’s master plan to convince some school that his special brand of insight and earthy charm would be perfect to fix its on-court ills. But buyers beware. Knight may seem like he has mellowed while Rece Davis fawns over him and Digger Phelps does everything possible to avoid getting punched in the mouth, but the man hasn’t changed a bit. If a school president is dumb enough to hire him, Knight will bring the same boorish act to campus, complete with his browbeating practice style and arrogant treatment of anyone who dares question him. The best penance Knight can do for a career of abusive behavior can be to spend his remaining years as part of the same media he ridiculed for so long.
St. Patty: If you live in the Eastern or Central time zones, it can be tough to stay up long enough to catch those WCC tilts at midnight. But if you get the chance to watch St. Mary’s play this year, it would be worth a couple Vivarin and a sleepy day on the job to tune in, if only to watch 6-0 point man Patrick Mills. All the Aussie did during the Olympics was light up the U.S. for 20 in the quarterfinals and force Chris Paul to find an extra gear to guard him. Mills isn’t perfect, because his shot needs work, but anybody who can force the NBA’s best to step it up deserves your attention. Other mid-major gems worth seeing: Illinois State guard Osiris Eldridge, Louisiana Tech center Magnum Rolle, Cleveland State forward J’Nathan Bullock, UTEP guard Stefon Jackson and Western Michigan’s David Kool, among many others.
Psycho T’s Final Stand: There has never been a four-time first-team all-America player, until this year. North Carolina forward Tyler Hansbrough is almost guaranteed to be on everybody’s list of top five players, unless the stress reaction in his shin blossoms into a full-fledged medical nightmare. (It won’t.) Yet about three weeks after Hansbrough’s last hurrah, most likely in the Final Four, we will start hearing just how bad a basketball player he is. No one in the college ranks will commit this heresy; rather, NBA scouts, analysts, GMs and draftniks will proclaim the 6-8 (he’s probably 6-7) power forward unfit for professional ball. Pity. Hansbrough is likely a role player in the Association, but who cares? He will leave Carolina as one of the most accomplished players in that school’s distinguished history and should be lauded for that, not knocked down because his jumper isn’t NBA caliber. If you enjoy college basketball, watch Hansbrough. If you prefer to focus on how everybody does in the NBA, tune in to that Clippers-Grizz tussle.
Long Range Adjustment: Ask Davidson sharpshooter Stephen Curry about the NC2A’s decision to move the three-point line back a foot but don’t expect a dramatic answer. “I noticed when they painted it on the court, because it’s a different color,” he says. “That’s it.” The college trey barrier is now 20 feet, nine inches from the hoop, a change that might cause a 6-10 wanna-be guard to re-think his strategy, but should have no effect at all on the likes of Curry, who wasn’t exactly hanging right on the old line’s edge to begin with. The benefit to the game will come if offenses move more freely inside the arc, making use of the extra room. Then again, since the mid-range game is all but non-existent in college ball, the move might just lower three-point shooting percentages and do little else.
On To Detroit: The college basketball community gets quite a treat this season, since the Final Four will be at Ford Field in Dee-troit. Not to bash the Motor City, since American automobile customers already have that job well in hand, but just having a dome doesn’t make a city a prime candidate to host something like this. There are no restaurants or bars near the stadium, and early-April weather in Michigan is as unpredictable as a teenager’s mood. But once everybody gets inside, the magic starts. So, who will be there? How about Louisville, Texas, North Carolina and Pittsburgh? A UNC-Texas final yields a championship for the Tar Heels, who erase (mostly) the images of last year’s ugly collapse in the national semis.
The rest of the Elite Eight: UCLA, Connecticut, Michigan State, Oklahoma.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: In a move designed to give fans a break in a tough economy, the NFL announced it was reducing the price of playoff tickets by 10%. Of course, the Raiders are already ahead of Roger Goodell and the boys. By stinking so thoroughly, Oakland guarantees fans won’t have to put out any hard-earned cash for post-season ducats…In the wake of the death of promising Russian hockey star Alexei Cherepanov, heart defects have been found in five other players in the Russian Hockey League. In a related story, no heart has been found in any of the Tronno Maple Laughs…A six-month investigation in Queens uncovered a bookmaking operation that did an estimated $30 million in business on college and pro football games. Detectives placed bets from March through September and would have shut the thing down earlier, but they kept winning…NASCAR president Todd France is none too happy with ABC’s decision to cut away from the last few laps of last week’s left-turn-athon in Phoenix to air “America’s Funniest Home Videos.” Trouble is, fans aren’t too upset, since they thought the show was actual footage of what was going on in the infield during the race…Mets third baseman David Wright expects his team to make “significant” moves during the off-season, with the goal of the team’s making it to the last week of the season before choking away its lead in the standings.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Somewhere, tucked into the bottom of a drawer in Eagles coach Andy Reid’s desk is a picture of team owner Jeffrey Lurie in a compromising pose with a goat. That’s about the only way to explain why Le Grande Orange continues to wear both the coach and GM hats for the team. It is becoming more and more obvious that the Eagles aren’t constructed to play football the way it is played these days. They have no power running game and no way to stop the run consistently. They don’t get a pass rush with just four lineman, and they lack a big-time wide receiver, although DeSean Jackson has potential. When Reid says the team is good enough to win, he is either impugning his coaching ability or showing a crashing lack of objectivity when regarding his roster. If the Eagles miss the post-season for the third time in four years, substantive changes must be made, starting at the top. It may not be time to cut Reid loose completely, especially since he’s owed about $4.2 million in ’09 and ’10. But he needs to lose the personnel responsibilities and concentrate on coaching the team. Of course, the franchise’s bottom line remains fat, no matter what the team does on the field, but that won’t last forever, particularly if the Eagles can’t survive the tough NFC East.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Notre Dame heads into its game against Navy 1-15 in its last 16 tilts against teams with winning records. The Fighting Irish looked impotent in last week’s loss to Boston College. Yet AD Jack Beancounter says Pear Bryant (Thanks to TC from BC) is safe. Funny, but Charlie Weis’ winning percentage of .586 is three-thousandths better than Ty Willingham’s, and his 26 wins are two fewer than Bob Davie had at this point in his tenure. Guess overpowering arrogance counts for something these days. The bigger joke? Even if the Irish end the season 7-5, we will still be subjected to them on New Year’s Day, because the Gator Bowl has all but promised them a berth, thanks to a shaky economy that could limit the travel plans of fans from another school. After the indignity of watching our investment portfolios crumble, we now have to see Heavy C and his underachieving team in the national spotlight. And you think college football doesn’t need an enema?
-EH-
Friday, November 7, 2008
The NBA: The Unexplainable Happens Here
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
No one who follows the NBA would have been surprised to learn that the Celtics’ championship ring ceremony included a special, clandestine presentation to former Boston forward Kevin McHale, without whom the ’08 NBA championship never would have been won. By gift-wrapping one of the league’s top five players – Kevin Garnett – for his old pal, Celts’ GM Danny Ainge, McHale gave a team that was without leadership or focus a laser-like intensity and the ability to climb from the league’s abyss to its top floor. The amazing thing is that Ainge actually had to convince Garnett to leave. He never wanted to move on from Minnesota, further proof of McHale’s burning desire to help his former team. A couple more deals like this, and we might have to change his first name to Elgin.
Ainge couldn’t convince his pal to make any other one-sided deals during the off-season (“Hey, Kevin, how about trading Al Jefferson back to us for Brian Scalabrine and Gabe Pruitt?”), so the Celtics defend their title with the same three-man nucleus that hoisted the club’s 17th banner. It’s not exactly ground chuck. Garnett remains the league’s premier interior defender, and Paul Pierce discovered that mixing hard work and tenacity with outstanding talent could produce pretty amazing results. The transformation that took place last year remains in tact, although it will be hard to forget that performance in the Finals when he behaved as if his knee had been chain-sawed, only to bound back onto the floor three minutes later like a springbok pronking for potential mates.
The Celtics will be big time contenders again, as will the Lakers. As for everybody else, it’s tough to tell. A.I. in Detroit could be more catastrophic than Ford’s recent performance. In Houston, the collective toll of injuries and/or suspensions for Yao, Me-Mac and Con Artest could be too much to allow for a launch. LeBron James is always a threat to carry Sideshow Bob and Friends to the Finals, where he’ll be shackled by a savvy defensive strategy. And let’s place some bets on whether Dallas or Phoenix will fall faster in the West.
The NBA season is upon us, and it’s time to celebrate. Or at least enjoy the highlights until the playoffs begin.
The Elder Statesman: Has Joe Dumars lost his mind? One of the NBA’s all-time straight shooters and team-first guys dished off a reliable, championship point guard (Chauncey Billups) for one of the biggest me-first guys in the NBA. If you want irrefutable evidence that the league is absolutely crazy, then examine this trade. Allen Iverson will absolutely help the Pistons score more, but that’s about it. Why do NBA GMs constantly believe that a new environment will change a player’s approach to the game? Former Georgetown coach John Thompson told El Hombre a long time ago about Iverson, “You can’t change a zebra’s stripes.” Ah, but there is an expiration date on the troubles. A.I.’s contract is up after this season, giving the Stones considerable cap flexibility (they could be as much as $19 mil under this summer). Coupled with the loss of the remaining two full seasons on Billups’ deal, Detroit could be rolling in dough come July 2010, when LBJ and Friends hit free agency. So, maybe Dumars isn’t so dumb after all.
The Big Disappointment: This year’s spin on the ridiculous decision by Phoenix to ruin their franchise by adding an overweight, uninspired, overrated, washed-up lane-clogger is that it takes some time to integrate a post player into an up-tempo attack. Riiiight. Shaq will be stealing $20 mil for each of the next two seasons. Meanwhile, the aging Suns will stagger around, trying to be the NBA’s version of Young@Heart. Instead, they’ll replicate Crash and lose their one-time Western pre-eminence. Phoenix fans will be advised to avert their eyes, or they’ll be tempted to make a citizen’s arrest of Shaq for larceny.
THE KNICKS! In Sensaround!: As disasters go, the 2007-08 New York Knicks season ranks well below the Hindenburg crash and Eddie Murphy’s singing career. But that doesn’t mean the team’s slide from proud contender to punch line wasn’t spectacularly catastrophic. The good news is that despite the subtraction of Isiah Thomas from the equation, the sequel ought to be just as a hair-raising. For Knicks fans, that is. The rest of us will stock up on popcorn and Junior Mints and enjoy the mayhem. It starts with the team’s hard-line approach to Stephon Marbury, whom they’ll pay ($21 mil) but won’t play. Then there is the motley collection overpriced hound dogs that comprises the bulk of the roster. Can you imagine the response when GM Donnie Walsh calls another team and inquires about interest in a trade for Eddy Curry or Quentin Richardson? On second thought, maybe this film should be considered a comedy.
Lost Cause: Here’s a message to all (both) you Nets fans out there: You’re screwed. Horribly, crushingly, tragically screwed. That new arena you expected in Crooklyn? Forget it. The economic downturn, coupled with civic pressures that would make Al Sharpton blush, have all but killed the project. That means five more years in the swamps or as second-class tenant status at the Prudential Center in Newark. Yum! And about that team of yours. Vince Carter is finished, Yi’s so bad he should be sent back to Beijing for re-education, you drafted the wrong Lopez and you couldn’t sell the rest of the team for 10 cents on the dollar. So much for that dream of signing LeBron when he hits free agency in ’10. Nice try, though. Enjoy the Lottery for the next 10 years and try to quell those nostalgic yearnings for the Derrick Coleman Era.
Yee-HAW!: It’s early still, so plenty of NBA teams have ugly records. But just wait for it. Not only will Oklahoma City retire the award as the NBA’s worst city, zooming past Sacramento, but the Thunder will also be the worst in the West. That’s saying something with Minnesota and Memphis around. Oh, yeah, that nickname is pretty awful, too. Why not Land Rush or Joads? Uncle David Stern is going to regret this one, that’s for sure. Not only will he have to put an expansion franchise in Seattle to soothe the wounds of a 40-year league member that got hosed by a jerk owner, but he’ll soon have to deal with the very real possibility that nobody will want to play in the Dust Bowl. Hey, at least attendance is high – for now. Give this mess a couple seasons, and it will be declared a Superfund site.
The Verdict: Here’s how it shakes out: Eastern Finals – Boston over Cleveland; Western Finals – Los Angeles over Utah. NBA Finals – Los Angeles over Boston.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: So why have all these colleges fired their coaches during the middle of the season? The better to get a jump on the search for the next guy. Syracuse and now Tennessee have already employed noted coaching headhunter Chuck Neinas to find their next coaches. The goal is to save recruiting, reassure ticketholders and stabilize the program. You want a culprit? Here’s a hint, it’s green…Agent Scott Boras is seeking a six-year deal for 36-year old Manny Ramirez. At $20-25 per. If any team gives the slugging leftfielder that money, it should be investigated. Manny played nice for a couple months, but it’s just a matter of time until he acts like a jackass again (and again). As for the idea of paying a 42-year old $25 million per, that didn’t even work with BALCO Bonds, and he was nearly 75% Cyborg by then…The latest example that there is hope for the cesspool that is big-time college athletics is Florida State safety Myron Rolle, who will miss the ‘Noles’ Nov. 22 game against Maryland to take part in the interview process for a Rhodes Scholarship. Rolle carries a 3.75 average in pre-med and played the lead role in “Fiddler on the Roof” as a prep senior. The best part? It wasn’t even a tough decision. Congrats, Myron, and knock ‘em dead…Let’s all form a prayer circle for the Cowboys, whose recent free-fall has been a victory for those who can’t stand meddling owners who think accumulating “stars” is the way to assemble a winning football team. Sure, injuries have played a part, but the decision to sign Space Invaders Jones and the overpayment for receiver Roy Williams proves that Owner/GM/Dictator-for-life Jerry Jones is more enamored of big splashes than wins. Keep it up, False Face.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? It may be a little overdramatic to label the Eagles’ game with New York Sunday night as make-or-break, especially since seven contests remain after that, but there is plenty at stake and not just in the NFC East standings. The city has lost its sporting edge somewhat in the wake of the Phillies’ World Series win, and that means a little of that pent-up frustration and passion have been replaced by the contentment of a championship. If the Birds lose at home to the Giants, they risk losing some of their preeminence. Over the past 15-20 years, Philadelphia became a football town, largely because fans thought the best chance for a title was a Super Bowl win. Now that the Phillies have broken the 25-year jinx, the urgency surrounding the Eagles has dissipated some. Losing the game Sunday will make winning the division title extremely difficult and relegate the Birds to the wild-card pool, from which Super Bowl success is tough to achieve. (Last year excepted, of course.) The Phillies rule the town, but the Eagles have a chance to keep their status with a victory. A loss could trigger talks of rebuilding and begin the countdown to April 6, 2009 – baseball’s opening day.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The most recent nominee for Ratfink of the Year is Arizona AD Jim Livengood, who refused to let freshman center Jeff Withey out of his scholarship, after coach Lute Olson retired abruptly last week for health reasons. Here’s another example of a school’s trying to exact some sort of revenge against a teenager, and it stinks like the bathroom in an NFL locker room after bean burritos were served at the training table. Withey came to Arizona to play for Olson, and now that the coach is no longer there, he has every right to transfer. Letters-of-intent are year-by-year, giving the school the power to get rid of anybody it wants. Meanwhile, the players are held to the whims of vengeful administrators like Livengood, who will force Withey to miss this season, rather than cut him loose. The next time you hear a school, coach or the NC2A say that it’s about the kids, reach for the Pepto. Better yet, tape the lie and use it to induce vomiting if you ever ingest poison accidentally. Shame on you, Livengood.
-EH-
No one who follows the NBA would have been surprised to learn that the Celtics’ championship ring ceremony included a special, clandestine presentation to former Boston forward Kevin McHale, without whom the ’08 NBA championship never would have been won. By gift-wrapping one of the league’s top five players – Kevin Garnett – for his old pal, Celts’ GM Danny Ainge, McHale gave a team that was without leadership or focus a laser-like intensity and the ability to climb from the league’s abyss to its top floor. The amazing thing is that Ainge actually had to convince Garnett to leave. He never wanted to move on from Minnesota, further proof of McHale’s burning desire to help his former team. A couple more deals like this, and we might have to change his first name to Elgin.
Ainge couldn’t convince his pal to make any other one-sided deals during the off-season (“Hey, Kevin, how about trading Al Jefferson back to us for Brian Scalabrine and Gabe Pruitt?”), so the Celtics defend their title with the same three-man nucleus that hoisted the club’s 17th banner. It’s not exactly ground chuck. Garnett remains the league’s premier interior defender, and Paul Pierce discovered that mixing hard work and tenacity with outstanding talent could produce pretty amazing results. The transformation that took place last year remains in tact, although it will be hard to forget that performance in the Finals when he behaved as if his knee had been chain-sawed, only to bound back onto the floor three minutes later like a springbok pronking for potential mates.
The Celtics will be big time contenders again, as will the Lakers. As for everybody else, it’s tough to tell. A.I. in Detroit could be more catastrophic than Ford’s recent performance. In Houston, the collective toll of injuries and/or suspensions for Yao, Me-Mac and Con Artest could be too much to allow for a launch. LeBron James is always a threat to carry Sideshow Bob and Friends to the Finals, where he’ll be shackled by a savvy defensive strategy. And let’s place some bets on whether Dallas or Phoenix will fall faster in the West.
The NBA season is upon us, and it’s time to celebrate. Or at least enjoy the highlights until the playoffs begin.
The Elder Statesman: Has Joe Dumars lost his mind? One of the NBA’s all-time straight shooters and team-first guys dished off a reliable, championship point guard (Chauncey Billups) for one of the biggest me-first guys in the NBA. If you want irrefutable evidence that the league is absolutely crazy, then examine this trade. Allen Iverson will absolutely help the Pistons score more, but that’s about it. Why do NBA GMs constantly believe that a new environment will change a player’s approach to the game? Former Georgetown coach John Thompson told El Hombre a long time ago about Iverson, “You can’t change a zebra’s stripes.” Ah, but there is an expiration date on the troubles. A.I.’s contract is up after this season, giving the Stones considerable cap flexibility (they could be as much as $19 mil under this summer). Coupled with the loss of the remaining two full seasons on Billups’ deal, Detroit could be rolling in dough come July 2010, when LBJ and Friends hit free agency. So, maybe Dumars isn’t so dumb after all.
The Big Disappointment: This year’s spin on the ridiculous decision by Phoenix to ruin their franchise by adding an overweight, uninspired, overrated, washed-up lane-clogger is that it takes some time to integrate a post player into an up-tempo attack. Riiiight. Shaq will be stealing $20 mil for each of the next two seasons. Meanwhile, the aging Suns will stagger around, trying to be the NBA’s version of Young@Heart. Instead, they’ll replicate Crash and lose their one-time Western pre-eminence. Phoenix fans will be advised to avert their eyes, or they’ll be tempted to make a citizen’s arrest of Shaq for larceny.
THE KNICKS! In Sensaround!: As disasters go, the 2007-08 New York Knicks season ranks well below the Hindenburg crash and Eddie Murphy’s singing career. But that doesn’t mean the team’s slide from proud contender to punch line wasn’t spectacularly catastrophic. The good news is that despite the subtraction of Isiah Thomas from the equation, the sequel ought to be just as a hair-raising. For Knicks fans, that is. The rest of us will stock up on popcorn and Junior Mints and enjoy the mayhem. It starts with the team’s hard-line approach to Stephon Marbury, whom they’ll pay ($21 mil) but won’t play. Then there is the motley collection overpriced hound dogs that comprises the bulk of the roster. Can you imagine the response when GM Donnie Walsh calls another team and inquires about interest in a trade for Eddy Curry or Quentin Richardson? On second thought, maybe this film should be considered a comedy.
Lost Cause: Here’s a message to all (both) you Nets fans out there: You’re screwed. Horribly, crushingly, tragically screwed. That new arena you expected in Crooklyn? Forget it. The economic downturn, coupled with civic pressures that would make Al Sharpton blush, have all but killed the project. That means five more years in the swamps or as second-class tenant status at the Prudential Center in Newark. Yum! And about that team of yours. Vince Carter is finished, Yi’s so bad he should be sent back to Beijing for re-education, you drafted the wrong Lopez and you couldn’t sell the rest of the team for 10 cents on the dollar. So much for that dream of signing LeBron when he hits free agency in ’10. Nice try, though. Enjoy the Lottery for the next 10 years and try to quell those nostalgic yearnings for the Derrick Coleman Era.
Yee-HAW!: It’s early still, so plenty of NBA teams have ugly records. But just wait for it. Not only will Oklahoma City retire the award as the NBA’s worst city, zooming past Sacramento, but the Thunder will also be the worst in the West. That’s saying something with Minnesota and Memphis around. Oh, yeah, that nickname is pretty awful, too. Why not Land Rush or Joads? Uncle David Stern is going to regret this one, that’s for sure. Not only will he have to put an expansion franchise in Seattle to soothe the wounds of a 40-year league member that got hosed by a jerk owner, but he’ll soon have to deal with the very real possibility that nobody will want to play in the Dust Bowl. Hey, at least attendance is high – for now. Give this mess a couple seasons, and it will be declared a Superfund site.
The Verdict: Here’s how it shakes out: Eastern Finals – Boston over Cleveland; Western Finals – Los Angeles over Utah. NBA Finals – Los Angeles over Boston.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: So why have all these colleges fired their coaches during the middle of the season? The better to get a jump on the search for the next guy. Syracuse and now Tennessee have already employed noted coaching headhunter Chuck Neinas to find their next coaches. The goal is to save recruiting, reassure ticketholders and stabilize the program. You want a culprit? Here’s a hint, it’s green…Agent Scott Boras is seeking a six-year deal for 36-year old Manny Ramirez. At $20-25 per. If any team gives the slugging leftfielder that money, it should be investigated. Manny played nice for a couple months, but it’s just a matter of time until he acts like a jackass again (and again). As for the idea of paying a 42-year old $25 million per, that didn’t even work with BALCO Bonds, and he was nearly 75% Cyborg by then…The latest example that there is hope for the cesspool that is big-time college athletics is Florida State safety Myron Rolle, who will miss the ‘Noles’ Nov. 22 game against Maryland to take part in the interview process for a Rhodes Scholarship. Rolle carries a 3.75 average in pre-med and played the lead role in “Fiddler on the Roof” as a prep senior. The best part? It wasn’t even a tough decision. Congrats, Myron, and knock ‘em dead…Let’s all form a prayer circle for the Cowboys, whose recent free-fall has been a victory for those who can’t stand meddling owners who think accumulating “stars” is the way to assemble a winning football team. Sure, injuries have played a part, but the decision to sign Space Invaders Jones and the overpayment for receiver Roy Williams proves that Owner/GM/Dictator-for-life Jerry Jones is more enamored of big splashes than wins. Keep it up, False Face.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? It may be a little overdramatic to label the Eagles’ game with New York Sunday night as make-or-break, especially since seven contests remain after that, but there is plenty at stake and not just in the NFC East standings. The city has lost its sporting edge somewhat in the wake of the Phillies’ World Series win, and that means a little of that pent-up frustration and passion have been replaced by the contentment of a championship. If the Birds lose at home to the Giants, they risk losing some of their preeminence. Over the past 15-20 years, Philadelphia became a football town, largely because fans thought the best chance for a title was a Super Bowl win. Now that the Phillies have broken the 25-year jinx, the urgency surrounding the Eagles has dissipated some. Losing the game Sunday will make winning the division title extremely difficult and relegate the Birds to the wild-card pool, from which Super Bowl success is tough to achieve. (Last year excepted, of course.) The Phillies rule the town, but the Eagles have a chance to keep their status with a victory. A loss could trigger talks of rebuilding and begin the countdown to April 6, 2009 – baseball’s opening day.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The most recent nominee for Ratfink of the Year is Arizona AD Jim Livengood, who refused to let freshman center Jeff Withey out of his scholarship, after coach Lute Olson retired abruptly last week for health reasons. Here’s another example of a school’s trying to exact some sort of revenge against a teenager, and it stinks like the bathroom in an NFL locker room after bean burritos were served at the training table. Withey came to Arizona to play for Olson, and now that the coach is no longer there, he has every right to transfer. Letters-of-intent are year-by-year, giving the school the power to get rid of anybody it wants. Meanwhile, the players are held to the whims of vengeful administrators like Livengood, who will force Withey to miss this season, rather than cut him loose. The next time you hear a school, coach or the NC2A say that it’s about the kids, reach for the Pepto. Better yet, tape the lie and use it to induce vomiting if you ever ingest poison accidentally. Shame on you, Livengood.
-EH-
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Ice the Champagne, Philly
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
When it comes to the main characters from the 1919 Black Sox World Series, everybody knows about Joe Jackson, who was banned from baseball, even though his .375 average during the series would indicate he didn’t try to fix anything – except the Sox’ fortunes after their two best pitchers took dives. They should recognize the name Arnold Rothstein, the New York gambler who spread around the dough. They might remember Kennesaw Mountain Landis, the gruff former U.S. district judge who banned Jackson and seven other Sox players from the game.
And, if you saw the movie “Eight Men Out,” you would even know about Hugh Fullerton. Fullerton, then a writer for the New York World, uncovered the scandal, after receiving a tip before the series. Fullerton was played by renowned author Studs Terkel in the movie and was instrumental in exposing the Sox’ misdeeds. It was quite a job by Fullerton, who is credited with being the first person to put athletes’ quotations in newspaper articles and include slang and human-interest items in his reports. Among his protégés were Ring Lardner and Grantland Rice.
Four years earlier, in 1915, Fullerton was covering baseball for The New York Times. That year, the Phillies made their first-ever World Series appearance, after 32 years of futility. Manager Pat Moran’s team had won the National League by overcoming the Boston Braves – known as the “Miracle Braves” a year earlier for their surprising run to the world championship – and prepared to face the Boston Red Sox. Before the first game began in Philadelphia (the teams’ owners convened at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York to flip a coin to see which city would host the first two games), Fullerton weighed in on the series, which he felt would go decidedly in Boston’s favor. “Man for man, [the Red Sox] outclass the National League champs,” Fullerton wrote. He went on to say that the only chance the Phillies had was if Grover Cleveland Alexander, who won 31 games during the regular season, triumphed three times. Alexander won the opener, 3-1, after which he was borne about National League Park as if he had single-handedly ended the First World War. That was it for Philadelphia prosperity. Fullerton had been right. Boston won in five games.
Ninety-three years later, the Phillies have returned to the Fall Classic, for just the sixth time in franchise history. (That used to be a bad decade for the Yankees.) Fullerton is long gone from the journalistic scene, but there are plenty of people still picking against the Phillies. Five of Sports Illustrated’s nine “experts” give the Lucifer Rays the advantage. At espn.com, it’s 8-5, Beelzebub Rays. One espn “authority,” Jim Caple, says a matchup between the Phils (or any NL team) and the Satan Rays “is like the majors versus AAA,” and El Hombre assumes he isn’t talking about the automotive club. Even some scientist from New Jersey Institute of Technology, Bruce Bukiet, gives Tampa Bay a 59% chance of winning, based on his mathematical calculations. What’s next, a Nickelodeon poll?
Yep, the nation is aligned strongly against Philadelphia – again. One gets the feeling that if a Philly team in any sport were littered with Hall of Famers, had a past Mensa president as coach or manager and had won every single regular-season game it contested, the rest of the nation would still favor its championship-round opponent, based on some long-standing bout with futility or the fact that Philadelphia fans booed Santa Claus 40 (that’s 4-0) years ago. If the ’27 Yankees were reincarnated as this group of Phils, most wags would pick Tampa in six. If Cy Young were starting three times for the Phils, it would be Abaddon Rays in seven. This is not to say the pundits have it in for the city, but picking against its teams sure seems fun.
Well, it ends here. Go ahead and choose Tampa. Revel in the city’s previous successes against proud Philadelphia outfits, as if wins by the Lightning and Buccaneers have anything to do with this World Series. Pick the upstarts to take it all and to conclude one of the most amazing transformations since Charlize Theron got ugly in “Monster.” Jump on the bandwagon, along with rest of the people in the Gulf Coast area, who finally decided to become baseball fans when the playoffs rolled around. Say they’ll win in six. Or seven. Call for a sweep.
You’ll be wrong.
After 25 years of sporting futility in Philadelphia, the tide is turning. The Flyers came within a couple wins of the Stanley Cup Finals last year. The Sixers are better. And despite the ridiculous, condescending blithering of team president Joe Banner, who couldn’t make a trade beneficial to the team if his boss’ next B movie depended on it, the Eagles remain a factor in the NFL. And now come the Phillies, ready to usher in a new Age of Enlightenment in Philadelphia sports, as if they were a sporting Voltaire. By hanging a banner, they will not only break a 25-year drought; they’ll make it easier for their local brethren to do the same. Being the first at anything is the hardest. But when the Flyers won the 1974 Stanley Cup, they launched a 10-year run of prosperity that included another Cup, an NBA title, a World Series championship and a Super Bowl appearance. Myriad playoff trips and championship-round qualifications were also included.
This breakthrough will be accomplished by a lights-out bullpen, a clutch-hitting bench, a shutdown ace and a sense of veteran purpose that trumps youthful exuberance every time. The Phillies will win the World Series in six games and return to an adoring city that will have its championship thirst slaked by the finest wine. From there, the city’s sports teams will charge into the next decade with a confidence absent to this point. Take your shots now, America, because your fun is just about over. The championship is on its way to Philadelphia, and you’ll just have to deal with it.
And as for the snowball thing, get over it. Santa has.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Strong showing by the Cowboys against the Rams last Sunday. Just goes to show you that character can’t be bought. Dallas has little of it, and that will be its downfall…Speaking of the NFL, the latest rumors have Brett Favre’s providing information to the Lions on how to beat the Packers. First of all, it’s ridiculous to think Detroit can beat anybody. Second, shouldn’t Cowboy Quarterback have been focusing on how to beat Oakland?…Reports out of Phoenix say Grant Hill and The Big Salary Waste want to own the Orlando Magic some day. They should call Tim Duncan and Tony Parker for some advice, because the lately, the Spurs have owned the Suns…Poor Big Brown. The magnificent horse hurt his foot during a workout and will no longer get to take part in the brutal sport of horse racing. Instead, he’ll retire to Three Chimneys Farm and begin his stud “career.” Any other males out there envy Big Brown, too?…Here’s another reason why some people want Communism back in Russia: Seven athletes were recently banned for two years for manipulating doping samples. That never would have happened in the old USSR. They would have done a much better job covering up their cheating.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Remember when Philadelphia used to be an NFL town, way back in 2006? Well, the Eagles get a chance to win back some fans against the surprising (4-2) Falcons Sunday. The bye week gave the team a chance to heal its wounds – particularly Brian Westbrook – and prepare for the last 10 games in a season that could well decide the fates of coach Andy Reid and QB Donovan McNabb. Big things remain possible for this team, but a loss to the Falcons would be crushing. It will be interesting to see if Reid can motivate the club he assembled to play consistent, smart football, or if the problems that created a 3-3 start will persist. Fans should expect some prosperity, thanks a light schedule ahead. They shouldn’t, however, expect any help from the front office, which refuses to augment the roster and continues to treat fans with contempt.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Back in September, before his Florida Atlantic team was ready to tangle with Texas, coach Howard Schnellenberger said everybody knew the Longhorns lacked toughness and commitment. Although it’s always tough to understand Howard’s baritone rumble, he was right. The feeling around college football was that the Steers were a little light in the shorts. Well, no more. Their comeback win over Oklahoma and obliteration of Missouri (don’t be fooled by the final score; Texas led, 35-0, in the first half) proves UT is for real. And don’t worry about the gauntlet of ranked teams the Longhorns must face (number seven OK State this Saturday; number eight Texas Tech next week, number 19 Kansas down the road), because this team has the fortitude to handle anything in its path. Looking for one half of the BCS “championship” matchup? Here it is.
-EH-
When it comes to the main characters from the 1919 Black Sox World Series, everybody knows about Joe Jackson, who was banned from baseball, even though his .375 average during the series would indicate he didn’t try to fix anything – except the Sox’ fortunes after their two best pitchers took dives. They should recognize the name Arnold Rothstein, the New York gambler who spread around the dough. They might remember Kennesaw Mountain Landis, the gruff former U.S. district judge who banned Jackson and seven other Sox players from the game.
And, if you saw the movie “Eight Men Out,” you would even know about Hugh Fullerton. Fullerton, then a writer for the New York World, uncovered the scandal, after receiving a tip before the series. Fullerton was played by renowned author Studs Terkel in the movie and was instrumental in exposing the Sox’ misdeeds. It was quite a job by Fullerton, who is credited with being the first person to put athletes’ quotations in newspaper articles and include slang and human-interest items in his reports. Among his protégés were Ring Lardner and Grantland Rice.
Four years earlier, in 1915, Fullerton was covering baseball for The New York Times. That year, the Phillies made their first-ever World Series appearance, after 32 years of futility. Manager Pat Moran’s team had won the National League by overcoming the Boston Braves – known as the “Miracle Braves” a year earlier for their surprising run to the world championship – and prepared to face the Boston Red Sox. Before the first game began in Philadelphia (the teams’ owners convened at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York to flip a coin to see which city would host the first two games), Fullerton weighed in on the series, which he felt would go decidedly in Boston’s favor. “Man for man, [the Red Sox] outclass the National League champs,” Fullerton wrote. He went on to say that the only chance the Phillies had was if Grover Cleveland Alexander, who won 31 games during the regular season, triumphed three times. Alexander won the opener, 3-1, after which he was borne about National League Park as if he had single-handedly ended the First World War. That was it for Philadelphia prosperity. Fullerton had been right. Boston won in five games.
Ninety-three years later, the Phillies have returned to the Fall Classic, for just the sixth time in franchise history. (That used to be a bad decade for the Yankees.) Fullerton is long gone from the journalistic scene, but there are plenty of people still picking against the Phillies. Five of Sports Illustrated’s nine “experts” give the Lucifer Rays the advantage. At espn.com, it’s 8-5, Beelzebub Rays. One espn “authority,” Jim Caple, says a matchup between the Phils (or any NL team) and the Satan Rays “is like the majors versus AAA,” and El Hombre assumes he isn’t talking about the automotive club. Even some scientist from New Jersey Institute of Technology, Bruce Bukiet, gives Tampa Bay a 59% chance of winning, based on his mathematical calculations. What’s next, a Nickelodeon poll?
Yep, the nation is aligned strongly against Philadelphia – again. One gets the feeling that if a Philly team in any sport were littered with Hall of Famers, had a past Mensa president as coach or manager and had won every single regular-season game it contested, the rest of the nation would still favor its championship-round opponent, based on some long-standing bout with futility or the fact that Philadelphia fans booed Santa Claus 40 (that’s 4-0) years ago. If the ’27 Yankees were reincarnated as this group of Phils, most wags would pick Tampa in six. If Cy Young were starting three times for the Phils, it would be Abaddon Rays in seven. This is not to say the pundits have it in for the city, but picking against its teams sure seems fun.
Well, it ends here. Go ahead and choose Tampa. Revel in the city’s previous successes against proud Philadelphia outfits, as if wins by the Lightning and Buccaneers have anything to do with this World Series. Pick the upstarts to take it all and to conclude one of the most amazing transformations since Charlize Theron got ugly in “Monster.” Jump on the bandwagon, along with rest of the people in the Gulf Coast area, who finally decided to become baseball fans when the playoffs rolled around. Say they’ll win in six. Or seven. Call for a sweep.
You’ll be wrong.
After 25 years of sporting futility in Philadelphia, the tide is turning. The Flyers came within a couple wins of the Stanley Cup Finals last year. The Sixers are better. And despite the ridiculous, condescending blithering of team president Joe Banner, who couldn’t make a trade beneficial to the team if his boss’ next B movie depended on it, the Eagles remain a factor in the NFL. And now come the Phillies, ready to usher in a new Age of Enlightenment in Philadelphia sports, as if they were a sporting Voltaire. By hanging a banner, they will not only break a 25-year drought; they’ll make it easier for their local brethren to do the same. Being the first at anything is the hardest. But when the Flyers won the 1974 Stanley Cup, they launched a 10-year run of prosperity that included another Cup, an NBA title, a World Series championship and a Super Bowl appearance. Myriad playoff trips and championship-round qualifications were also included.
This breakthrough will be accomplished by a lights-out bullpen, a clutch-hitting bench, a shutdown ace and a sense of veteran purpose that trumps youthful exuberance every time. The Phillies will win the World Series in six games and return to an adoring city that will have its championship thirst slaked by the finest wine. From there, the city’s sports teams will charge into the next decade with a confidence absent to this point. Take your shots now, America, because your fun is just about over. The championship is on its way to Philadelphia, and you’ll just have to deal with it.
And as for the snowball thing, get over it. Santa has.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Strong showing by the Cowboys against the Rams last Sunday. Just goes to show you that character can’t be bought. Dallas has little of it, and that will be its downfall…Speaking of the NFL, the latest rumors have Brett Favre’s providing information to the Lions on how to beat the Packers. First of all, it’s ridiculous to think Detroit can beat anybody. Second, shouldn’t Cowboy Quarterback have been focusing on how to beat Oakland?…Reports out of Phoenix say Grant Hill and The Big Salary Waste want to own the Orlando Magic some day. They should call Tim Duncan and Tony Parker for some advice, because the lately, the Spurs have owned the Suns…Poor Big Brown. The magnificent horse hurt his foot during a workout and will no longer get to take part in the brutal sport of horse racing. Instead, he’ll retire to Three Chimneys Farm and begin his stud “career.” Any other males out there envy Big Brown, too?…Here’s another reason why some people want Communism back in Russia: Seven athletes were recently banned for two years for manipulating doping samples. That never would have happened in the old USSR. They would have done a much better job covering up their cheating.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Remember when Philadelphia used to be an NFL town, way back in 2006? Well, the Eagles get a chance to win back some fans against the surprising (4-2) Falcons Sunday. The bye week gave the team a chance to heal its wounds – particularly Brian Westbrook – and prepare for the last 10 games in a season that could well decide the fates of coach Andy Reid and QB Donovan McNabb. Big things remain possible for this team, but a loss to the Falcons would be crushing. It will be interesting to see if Reid can motivate the club he assembled to play consistent, smart football, or if the problems that created a 3-3 start will persist. Fans should expect some prosperity, thanks a light schedule ahead. They shouldn’t, however, expect any help from the front office, which refuses to augment the roster and continues to treat fans with contempt.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Back in September, before his Florida Atlantic team was ready to tangle with Texas, coach Howard Schnellenberger said everybody knew the Longhorns lacked toughness and commitment. Although it’s always tough to understand Howard’s baritone rumble, he was right. The feeling around college football was that the Steers were a little light in the shorts. Well, no more. Their comeback win over Oklahoma and obliteration of Missouri (don’t be fooled by the final score; Texas led, 35-0, in the first half) proves UT is for real. And don’t worry about the gauntlet of ranked teams the Longhorns must face (number seven OK State this Saturday; number eight Texas Tech next week, number 19 Kansas down the road), because this team has the fortitude to handle anything in its path. Looking for one half of the BCS “championship” matchup? Here it is.
-EH-
Friday, October 17, 2008
Finish The Job
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
When Nicholas II’s cronies decided it was time to get rid of Russian mystic/drunk Grigory Rasputin, they appealed to his base sensibilities. Prince Felix Yusupovsky invited the starets to his palace, on the pretext of introducing Rasputin to his delectable wife. There would also be an assortment of gluttonous treats. In other words, it was just another Saturday night for Tsarina Alexandra’s most trusted confidant.
Rasputin, of course, consented. Once he arrived, the Prince and his confederates fed the “holy man” poisoned cakes and drink. Nothing. So, they shot him. Rasputin crumpled to the floor, and the men left him there to die. When they returned, Rasputin sprung up and began to beat the Prince, who called for help. His friends arrived with guns, cudgels and other implements of mayhem and set upon Rasputin. After giving him the business, they bound his arms and legs and tossed him into a nearby river, where finally, he died, not from his wounds, but by drowning. In fact, his hands and feet were free of the ropes
The Tampa Bay Beelzebub Rays had better study up on their Russian history, if they hope to subdue the Boston Red Sawx. Thursday night’s come-from-ahead debacle in Boston shows just how hard it is to conquer the defending world champions. Tampa held a 7-0 lead in the seventh, and half the team’s young roster was salivating at what was probably their first taste of champagne – even if the tightwad organization probably had screw-cap versions of the stuff on ice. But Big Papi, he of the 1-for-700 ALCS batting performance, smacked a homer. J.D. Drew launched one, too. The previously infallible Tampa bullpen imploded. And here we go, back to Florida, with the Sawx’ having new life.
This is exactly why the Phillies do not want to see Boston in the World Series. It doesn’t matter whether the Satan Rays have a better team, what with the power of B.J. Upton and Evan Longoria, the speed of Carl Crawford, the magnetism of Robin Zander and that solid starting rotation. The Sawx are just too damn resilient. Like Rasputin, they can’t be killed with just poison. Or bullets. You have to lop their collective head off and bury it 1,000 miles from the rest of the corpse. You have to dig out their heart and feed it to 100 baying hounds. And even then, you had better sleep with an eye open, just to make sure a stray limb doesn’t pick up 32 ounces of maple and hit a spirit-breaking home run.
The Lucifer Rays are good. Maybe great, even. After Thursday, they remain the preferred opponent for the Phils, thanks to the Sawx’ pathological ability to come back in big games. As the ALCS returns to Florida, El Hombre has a bit of advice for the Abaddon Rays: Dust off the guillotine. Bring in the electric chair. The firing squad. The asps.
You’re going to need all of it, if you want to play the Phillies.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: If, as the MLB Players Association asserts, owners colluded to make sure BALCO Bonds would not be signed for the ’08 season, then baseball should pay. While Bonds is a reprehensible character and the poster-child for the drug abuse that was rampant during the ‘90s and early 21st century, that is no excuse for breaking established labor rules. Worse, Bonds’ became such a monster in a climate propagated by baseball itself. Congratulations to baseball for convincing the Players Association to hold off until after the World Series to file a grievance, but if the owners colluded, they must pay, even if it means losing a round to the horrible Bonds. Baseball created its problem, so it must continue to do penance.
-EH-
When Nicholas II’s cronies decided it was time to get rid of Russian mystic/drunk Grigory Rasputin, they appealed to his base sensibilities. Prince Felix Yusupovsky invited the starets to his palace, on the pretext of introducing Rasputin to his delectable wife. There would also be an assortment of gluttonous treats. In other words, it was just another Saturday night for Tsarina Alexandra’s most trusted confidant.
Rasputin, of course, consented. Once he arrived, the Prince and his confederates fed the “holy man” poisoned cakes and drink. Nothing. So, they shot him. Rasputin crumpled to the floor, and the men left him there to die. When they returned, Rasputin sprung up and began to beat the Prince, who called for help. His friends arrived with guns, cudgels and other implements of mayhem and set upon Rasputin. After giving him the business, they bound his arms and legs and tossed him into a nearby river, where finally, he died, not from his wounds, but by drowning. In fact, his hands and feet were free of the ropes
The Tampa Bay Beelzebub Rays had better study up on their Russian history, if they hope to subdue the Boston Red Sawx. Thursday night’s come-from-ahead debacle in Boston shows just how hard it is to conquer the defending world champions. Tampa held a 7-0 lead in the seventh, and half the team’s young roster was salivating at what was probably their first taste of champagne – even if the tightwad organization probably had screw-cap versions of the stuff on ice. But Big Papi, he of the 1-for-700 ALCS batting performance, smacked a homer. J.D. Drew launched one, too. The previously infallible Tampa bullpen imploded. And here we go, back to Florida, with the Sawx’ having new life.
This is exactly why the Phillies do not want to see Boston in the World Series. It doesn’t matter whether the Satan Rays have a better team, what with the power of B.J. Upton and Evan Longoria, the speed of Carl Crawford, the magnetism of Robin Zander and that solid starting rotation. The Sawx are just too damn resilient. Like Rasputin, they can’t be killed with just poison. Or bullets. You have to lop their collective head off and bury it 1,000 miles from the rest of the corpse. You have to dig out their heart and feed it to 100 baying hounds. And even then, you had better sleep with an eye open, just to make sure a stray limb doesn’t pick up 32 ounces of maple and hit a spirit-breaking home run.
The Lucifer Rays are good. Maybe great, even. After Thursday, they remain the preferred opponent for the Phils, thanks to the Sawx’ pathological ability to come back in big games. As the ALCS returns to Florida, El Hombre has a bit of advice for the Abaddon Rays: Dust off the guillotine. Bring in the electric chair. The firing squad. The asps.
You’re going to need all of it, if you want to play the Phillies.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: If, as the MLB Players Association asserts, owners colluded to make sure BALCO Bonds would not be signed for the ’08 season, then baseball should pay. While Bonds is a reprehensible character and the poster-child for the drug abuse that was rampant during the ‘90s and early 21st century, that is no excuse for breaking established labor rules. Worse, Bonds’ became such a monster in a climate propagated by baseball itself. Congratulations to baseball for convincing the Players Association to hold off until after the World Series to file a grievance, but if the owners colluded, they must pay, even if it means losing a round to the horrible Bonds. Baseball created its problem, so it must continue to do penance.
-EH-
Thursday, October 16, 2008
The City of Brotherly Optimism
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
When the Philadelphia Phillies prepared to take on the mighty Yankees in the 1950 World Series, ace reliever (and surprise Game One starter) Jim Konstanty spoke about his team’s character and drive.
“Maybe it’s corny or foolish, but I don’t think the Yankees can match our spirit and will to win,” he said. No word on whether he was waving pom-poms (the 1950s version of rally towels) at the time.
Konstanty was right. Those ’50 “Whiz Kids” (a reprise of the nickname given to the 1942-43 University of Illinois men’s hoops team) had plenty of spunk and verve. At a time when the country went for that kind of stuff, Konstanty couldn’t be criticized for his rah-rah attitude. Of course, when South Korea invaded North Korea on the first day of the Series, a little of that innocence was gone. Still, the Happy Days didn’t evaporate completely, despite the “Police Action” over in Asia. It wasn’t until the mid-‘60s that Howdy Doody was cold-cocked by the Black Panthers – for damn good reason.
So, the ’50 Phillies had spirit. Yes, they did. Unfortunately, the Yankees had DiMaggio and Berra and Vic Raschi, who two-hit the Phils in the opener, even as his hotel room was being looted. The Fizz Kids went down in four, and it was 30 long years (thank you, Gene Mauch, for 1964 and beyond) before Philadelphia would see another World Series game.
Twenty-eight seasons after that seminal moment – the franchise’s only world title – we have another group of gung-ho, feisty World Series-bound Phillies, who thrive on their resilience and teamwork and camaraderie. They’re managed by a back-slapping type who can talk hitting with the best of them yet turns a simple declarative sentence about why he made a pitching change into a four-adverb pile-up. They specialize in come-from-behind victories, shrug off adversity and make the improbable possible. The Phillies never think a deficit is too big or a situation too dire. They keep the faith. They believe. In other words, they are the perfect team for Philadelphia.
That’s right. This optimistic bunch is Philly all the way. You may think every person in town is a grouchy pessimist, waiting for the worst to happen – and then reveling in the opportunity to curse the fates. If you listen to the idiots who come to Philadelphia for a day and leave spewing stereotypes and hackneyed characterizations, you believe every Philadelphian revs up for the holiday season by putting lye in the coffee of Salvation Army Santas and celebrates spring by spraying DDT on the Easter Bunny’s garden.
Yeah, Philly is tough. You had better believe that. The whole Northeast corridor is. Just try ordering a pastrami-on-white in a New York deli. Or wait patiently for a Boston driver to allow you to enter one of those NASCAR-style traffic circles. By the time you’d get in, the Bruins would be good again. You have to want it and then take it. Southern hospitality? Bah. Corn-pone Midwest cheerfulness? Stick it in your tractor, pal. Philadelphians are hard-core, rugged survivors. But they are, at heart, optimists. Why else would they keep getting out bed every morning? The city’s industrial base is drier than a Bible Belt county. The murder rate is one of the highest in the country. The City Council’s behavior often resembles what you would find in a pre-school sandbox. Still, Philadelphians come back, day after day.
They return to the stadiums and arenas, too. Every season, hope abounds. Hammerheads like LA Times columnist T.J. Simers may elicit chuckles from his soft-skulled readers by calling Philly “Angryville” and dusting off the usual criticisms. But even a dolt like Simers couldn’t have missed the hysteria at the Phillies’ park last week when the NLCS began. Had he taken a minute to do a little research, he would have noticed that the team set an attendance record this year. And the fans in Philadelphia show up early, stay late and don’t have time to stargaze at B-list celebrities like Mary Hart and Pat Sajak.
Are they going to boo when things go wrong? Damn right they are. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. The booing’s genesis is not anger or nastiness. It comes from a sense of betrayal. That the teams the fans support so loyally and generously would actually turn on them by playing poorly, giving inadequate effort or making boneheaded plays or decisions. The reaction comes not from a crop of inherently bad people; rather a fan base that has seen its dreams dashed so many times and can’t believe it keeps coming back for more. You saw the beginnings of it in Chicago this October, when the Cubbies went out in three to the Dodgers. This time, there were real expectations, real hopes. And when the end came so quickly and maddeningly, there was anger. And (gasp!) even some boos. See, it can happen even in the bucolic Midwest, or the Left Coast, where cries of “Hit him in the head!” resounded every time Phillies outfielder Shane Victorino came to the plate in the NLCS. Of course, they were not reported nearly as vigorously as the incidents documented and rehashed – for decades – in Philadelphia.
So, these Phillies are a bunch of never-say-die idealists who refuse to quit, are they? Sounds like a perfect match between team and city. And if you have a problem with that, screw you.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: So, Shaq is upset about the Spurs’ use of the Hack-a-Shaq “strategy” during last year’s playoffs when San Antonio was comfortably ahead in games. Calls it “cowardly” and vows revenge. Has anybody asked Shaq what word he would use to describe an out-of-shape pivotman who continues to soak teams for $20 million a year while refusing to condition himself well enough to play a full season at a high level? Didn’t think so…Don’t be surprised if Spurs coach Gregg Popovich doesn’t care a bit about Shaq’s whining. Have you seen him lately? That beard makes him look like Tom Hanks in “Cast Away.” Looks like he knows the Spurs’ dynasty is on its way out and is preparing to spend a couple years eating grubs and reading subversive literature with Phil Jackson in Montana…Strong showing by Michigan against Toledo in the program’s most embarrassing loss ever. Fortunately, coach Rich Rodriguez has narrowed the team’s troubles down to three areas: offense, defense and special teams. Other than that, things are good. Go ahead and job-search Rich. Don’t think Michigan will hold you to that buyout…Great news for America’s sporting youth: Generalissimo Knight wants to coach again. The world-class boor “has nothing else to do,” so he might as well return to college and commence berating players and officials, slinging profanity around and losing NC2A tournament games. Any AD who hires him should be institutionalized…The college football coaching carousel has begun its annual whirl, now that Tommy Bowden is finally out at Clemson, after a nine-plus-year tenure that made Houdini look like an amateur. As the inevitable grousing begins about “loyalty,” remember that job security for college coaches is non-existent and that it’s hard to be devoted to an entity that would fire you just because a rich booster didn’t like you. With few exceptions, coaches should be able to come and go as they please.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Good thing the Eagles have a bye week coming up, because their wounded players need time to heal, and their coach needs time to figure out how to “dial up” better plays. We all know Andy Reid is largely overmatched in the personnel selection department and should be removed from all GM aspects, but his play-calling has been shaky at best this season, and even QB Donovan McNabb has been gently questioning some of Reid’s decisions. The Eagles caught a break last week when they whipped San Francisco to move to 3-3, while every other NFC East team lost. They’re not out of the race yet, but if Reid doesn’t improve his performance, the Eagles will not make the playoffs, and B-movie mogul Jeffrey Lurie will have no choice but to fire Reid.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: There should be zero sympathy throughout the NFL for the Cowboys, who took a gigantic risk in signing Space Invaders Jones during the off-season. The serial miscreant majored in trouble at West Virginia and has pursued a graduate degree in the subject since joining the NFL. If owner Jerry “False Face” Jones welcomes the criminal cornerback back after his suspension, then it’s obvious that character has no place in the Cowboys’ organization. Though talented (and his play this year didn’t exactly reinforce that statement), Jones refuses to act like a productive member of society and deserves to be excluded from the NFL for a sustained period. If commissioner Roger Goodell can’t find reason to suspend him for the rest of the season, the league’s owners should refrain from signing him. You might call that collusion. El Hombre calls it responsible behavior.
-EH-
When the Philadelphia Phillies prepared to take on the mighty Yankees in the 1950 World Series, ace reliever (and surprise Game One starter) Jim Konstanty spoke about his team’s character and drive.
“Maybe it’s corny or foolish, but I don’t think the Yankees can match our spirit and will to win,” he said. No word on whether he was waving pom-poms (the 1950s version of rally towels) at the time.
Konstanty was right. Those ’50 “Whiz Kids” (a reprise of the nickname given to the 1942-43 University of Illinois men’s hoops team) had plenty of spunk and verve. At a time when the country went for that kind of stuff, Konstanty couldn’t be criticized for his rah-rah attitude. Of course, when South Korea invaded North Korea on the first day of the Series, a little of that innocence was gone. Still, the Happy Days didn’t evaporate completely, despite the “Police Action” over in Asia. It wasn’t until the mid-‘60s that Howdy Doody was cold-cocked by the Black Panthers – for damn good reason.
So, the ’50 Phillies had spirit. Yes, they did. Unfortunately, the Yankees had DiMaggio and Berra and Vic Raschi, who two-hit the Phils in the opener, even as his hotel room was being looted. The Fizz Kids went down in four, and it was 30 long years (thank you, Gene Mauch, for 1964 and beyond) before Philadelphia would see another World Series game.
Twenty-eight seasons after that seminal moment – the franchise’s only world title – we have another group of gung-ho, feisty World Series-bound Phillies, who thrive on their resilience and teamwork and camaraderie. They’re managed by a back-slapping type who can talk hitting with the best of them yet turns a simple declarative sentence about why he made a pitching change into a four-adverb pile-up. They specialize in come-from-behind victories, shrug off adversity and make the improbable possible. The Phillies never think a deficit is too big or a situation too dire. They keep the faith. They believe. In other words, they are the perfect team for Philadelphia.
That’s right. This optimistic bunch is Philly all the way. You may think every person in town is a grouchy pessimist, waiting for the worst to happen – and then reveling in the opportunity to curse the fates. If you listen to the idiots who come to Philadelphia for a day and leave spewing stereotypes and hackneyed characterizations, you believe every Philadelphian revs up for the holiday season by putting lye in the coffee of Salvation Army Santas and celebrates spring by spraying DDT on the Easter Bunny’s garden.
Yeah, Philly is tough. You had better believe that. The whole Northeast corridor is. Just try ordering a pastrami-on-white in a New York deli. Or wait patiently for a Boston driver to allow you to enter one of those NASCAR-style traffic circles. By the time you’d get in, the Bruins would be good again. You have to want it and then take it. Southern hospitality? Bah. Corn-pone Midwest cheerfulness? Stick it in your tractor, pal. Philadelphians are hard-core, rugged survivors. But they are, at heart, optimists. Why else would they keep getting out bed every morning? The city’s industrial base is drier than a Bible Belt county. The murder rate is one of the highest in the country. The City Council’s behavior often resembles what you would find in a pre-school sandbox. Still, Philadelphians come back, day after day.
They return to the stadiums and arenas, too. Every season, hope abounds. Hammerheads like LA Times columnist T.J. Simers may elicit chuckles from his soft-skulled readers by calling Philly “Angryville” and dusting off the usual criticisms. But even a dolt like Simers couldn’t have missed the hysteria at the Phillies’ park last week when the NLCS began. Had he taken a minute to do a little research, he would have noticed that the team set an attendance record this year. And the fans in Philadelphia show up early, stay late and don’t have time to stargaze at B-list celebrities like Mary Hart and Pat Sajak.
Are they going to boo when things go wrong? Damn right they are. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. The booing’s genesis is not anger or nastiness. It comes from a sense of betrayal. That the teams the fans support so loyally and generously would actually turn on them by playing poorly, giving inadequate effort or making boneheaded plays or decisions. The reaction comes not from a crop of inherently bad people; rather a fan base that has seen its dreams dashed so many times and can’t believe it keeps coming back for more. You saw the beginnings of it in Chicago this October, when the Cubbies went out in three to the Dodgers. This time, there were real expectations, real hopes. And when the end came so quickly and maddeningly, there was anger. And (gasp!) even some boos. See, it can happen even in the bucolic Midwest, or the Left Coast, where cries of “Hit him in the head!” resounded every time Phillies outfielder Shane Victorino came to the plate in the NLCS. Of course, they were not reported nearly as vigorously as the incidents documented and rehashed – for decades – in Philadelphia.
So, these Phillies are a bunch of never-say-die idealists who refuse to quit, are they? Sounds like a perfect match between team and city. And if you have a problem with that, screw you.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: So, Shaq is upset about the Spurs’ use of the Hack-a-Shaq “strategy” during last year’s playoffs when San Antonio was comfortably ahead in games. Calls it “cowardly” and vows revenge. Has anybody asked Shaq what word he would use to describe an out-of-shape pivotman who continues to soak teams for $20 million a year while refusing to condition himself well enough to play a full season at a high level? Didn’t think so…Don’t be surprised if Spurs coach Gregg Popovich doesn’t care a bit about Shaq’s whining. Have you seen him lately? That beard makes him look like Tom Hanks in “Cast Away.” Looks like he knows the Spurs’ dynasty is on its way out and is preparing to spend a couple years eating grubs and reading subversive literature with Phil Jackson in Montana…Strong showing by Michigan against Toledo in the program’s most embarrassing loss ever. Fortunately, coach Rich Rodriguez has narrowed the team’s troubles down to three areas: offense, defense and special teams. Other than that, things are good. Go ahead and job-search Rich. Don’t think Michigan will hold you to that buyout…Great news for America’s sporting youth: Generalissimo Knight wants to coach again. The world-class boor “has nothing else to do,” so he might as well return to college and commence berating players and officials, slinging profanity around and losing NC2A tournament games. Any AD who hires him should be institutionalized…The college football coaching carousel has begun its annual whirl, now that Tommy Bowden is finally out at Clemson, after a nine-plus-year tenure that made Houdini look like an amateur. As the inevitable grousing begins about “loyalty,” remember that job security for college coaches is non-existent and that it’s hard to be devoted to an entity that would fire you just because a rich booster didn’t like you. With few exceptions, coaches should be able to come and go as they please.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Good thing the Eagles have a bye week coming up, because their wounded players need time to heal, and their coach needs time to figure out how to “dial up” better plays. We all know Andy Reid is largely overmatched in the personnel selection department and should be removed from all GM aspects, but his play-calling has been shaky at best this season, and even QB Donovan McNabb has been gently questioning some of Reid’s decisions. The Eagles caught a break last week when they whipped San Francisco to move to 3-3, while every other NFC East team lost. They’re not out of the race yet, but if Reid doesn’t improve his performance, the Eagles will not make the playoffs, and B-movie mogul Jeffrey Lurie will have no choice but to fire Reid.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: There should be zero sympathy throughout the NFL for the Cowboys, who took a gigantic risk in signing Space Invaders Jones during the off-season. The serial miscreant majored in trouble at West Virginia and has pursued a graduate degree in the subject since joining the NFL. If owner Jerry “False Face” Jones welcomes the criminal cornerback back after his suspension, then it’s obvious that character has no place in the Cowboys’ organization. Though talented (and his play this year didn’t exactly reinforce that statement), Jones refuses to act like a productive member of society and deserves to be excluded from the NFL for a sustained period. If commissioner Roger Goodell can’t find reason to suspend him for the rest of the season, the league’s owners should refrain from signing him. You might call that collusion. El Hombre calls it responsible behavior.
-EH-
Thursday, October 9, 2008
One Devil of a Team
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS -- ONE DEVIL OF A TEAM
It has become a staple of just about every up-from-nowhere sports movie in history. The lovable losers, having shucked off the past ignominy of playing at a level similar to Ben Affleck’s recent movie career, reach the inevitable Moment of Truth. There, after absorbing repeated body blows, they regroup and carry on to great success.
You saw it in “Major League.” “Major League II.” “Caddyshack.” “Angels in the Outfield.” “Rocky II.” “Rocky III.” “Rocky XVII, Incontinence Island.” And so on. It’s a Hollywood formula designed to produce two-star, sweat-soaked, feel-good pictures you can watch again and again. Okay, so not “Caddyshack II.” That one made “Major League: Back to the Minors” look like “Stagecoach.”
That’s Hollywood for you, serving up pleasing entertainment designed to keep America uplifted and positive, sort of like an arts Miracle Bra. It’s usually doesn’t happen like that in real life. Away from the silver screen, dreams get dashed, quick starts become forgotten fades and Cinderella gets robbed at knifepoint on the way home from the ball.
Back in the heady days of June, when Tampa Bay was enjoying an are-you-kidding-me ride atop the AL East, most sensible observers figured it nothing more than an temporary high, like what happens when you stand up too quickly or an catch an inadvertent smile from the pretty girl who has mistaken you for someone else. You want the real stuff, you go to Keith Richards. Or the Red Sox. Tampa was going to fall all right. Even your esteemed narrator predicted a crash and burn scenario for TB. He even had some fun with the team’s decision to eschew all satanic nickname references. And in early September, when the Lucifer Rays dropped six of seven and saw their lead shrink faster than a guy’s best friend in Arctic waters, you knew what was coming next. Reality was ready to take the final hand. Step aside, boys, and let the Pros from Dover play through.
Only it didn’t happen that way. Tampa took four of six from the Sawx and closed out the AL East, completing one of the most amazing turnarounds in sports history. The Miracle Mets had nothing on these guys. The Mephistopheles Rays were so bad the producers of “Ishtar” laughed at them. Their 10 years of existence were only marginally more successful than the French army’s performance in WWII. The “high water” mark came in 2004, when TB raged to a 70-91 record and finished only 30.5 games out of first. There was bad, Michael Bolton-bad and the Devil Rays. To improve on a franchise’s best mark by 27 wins and to triumph 31 more times than its immediate predecessor is absolutely indescribable. You could convene a meeting of Billy Shakespeare, Dante Alighieri, Leo Tolstoy and Joan Rivers and they couldn’t come up with the words to portray the colossal accomplishment of this team. With apologies to Chuck D (Dickens, that is), “It was the worst of times; it was the best of times.”
The Abaddon Rays took things even further in the ALDS, dumping the ChiSox in four and robbing the baseball world of another couple weeks Ozzie Guillen’s comedy stylings. Now, it’s the Carmine Hose in the other dugout, and Tampa Bay can’t possibly win again, can it? Look at this team. Exactly one of its regulars hit better than .286 for the season, and that was the catcher, Dioner Navarro. (Who?!) Only two Satan Rays players hit more than 20 homers. Tampa Bay’s current closer has a save percentage of 72.2%, not exactly a shining Fireman of the Year resume. And have you seen those silly glasses on manager Joe Maddon? Maybe they work at Spago. Maybe. But on the Gulf Coast, they make him look like he’s trying to identify (unsuccessfully) with the younger players. What’s next, Timbaland and T-Pain blasting out of the manager’s office? Talk that s***, indeed.
Then you have the Sawx, with Papi and Youk and Coco and Dice-K. With two Series titles in the last four years. With enough success to turn them from America’s lovable losers and cursed sympathetic heroes into the New Yankees. Really, can anybody outside of New England root for these guys – frontrunners excepted, of course. It’s enough to make you want to hug Hank Steinbrenner. Don’t laugh. Baseball needs his special version of craziness. At some point during his tenure, he’s going to charge into the clubhouse with a loaded gun. You wait and see.
How can the simple, underdog Beelzebub Rays contend with the Nation? Come on, now. We’re talking the Ghost of Bloody Sock Schilling here. The Comeback. Next to all of that, Tampa Bay looks like it’s an American Legion outfit. So, the smart money and even the dumb money is screaming, “PICK BOSTON.” But El Hombre has learned his lesson. He predicted the collapse that never came. Made fun of the Prince of Darkness Rays when praise was in order. Something special is going on down there, and not even the Sawx can spoil it. Boston got a break when it drew the Angels in the ALDS. All it had to do was throw a cap onto the field with that signature “B” embroidered on the front and the whole L.A. team would need to change its uniform pants. Tampa Bay isn’t like that. It won’t back down.
Besides, Josh Beckett is hurting. Mike Lowell is out. And Manny, for all his loutish behavior and malingering, isn’t around, either. The Sawx couldn’t get it done in September against the Satan Rays, and they won’t do it in October, either.
The dream continues: Tampa Bay in Seven.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Thanks for stopping by, Cubbies. Since when does the 100th anniversary of anything guarantee you anything? Chicago fans thought they were owed some sort of cosmic reward for their suffering. Instead of getting a world title, they attained an annoying status that rivals that of the Red Sawx – without the championship. Let’s see, that’s two series, two 0-3 losses for Lou Piniella’s team. Nice work…So now T.O is a man of God. Good for him. It was inevitable that he would assume that persona at some point. Wonder if he’ll ever try to be a good teammate, or is that out of the question?…Republican VP candidate Sarah Palin will drop the ceremonial first puck before the Flyers’ home opener against the Rangers, as part of the team’s “Ultimate Hockey Mom” contest. After she drops it, Democrat VP hopeful Joe Biden will enumerate the reasons why he would have held onto it. No word on Tina Fey’s plans for the evening…Things are so bad in Tennessee that fans are actually staying away from Volunteers’ home games. Come on, now, that four-point win over Northern Illinois wasn’t that bad, was it? The good news is that underachieving head coach Phil Fulmer is signed for seven more years at $3 million per. Talk about a lack of financial oversight. Still, there is no truth to the rumor that a couple more losses will convince the school to change its fight song to “Rocky Bottom.”
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Back in 1983, gas cost $1.24, Michael Jackson was the King of Pop, and Joe Morgan and Tony Perez were each about 63 years old. Still, those two geezers led the Phillies through a remarkable September run and an NLCS victory over the Dodgers, with Sarge Matthews riding shotgun in the Cadillac. The two teams get it on 25 years later, and it’s tough to find a discernable difference between them. Both have solid pitching, a good-but-not-great lineup and above-average gloves. The difference will then come down to something off the field, an intangible if you will. Look no further than the dugout, where LA’s Joe Torre matches “wits” with Uncle Charley Manuel. Manuel is known for his ability to keep a team loose, but Torre somehow cured the rift between the old and young players on the Dodgers – and he found a way to keep Manny Ramirez from laying hands on the team’s support staff. The series could come down to a few key moves, and there’s no doubt Torre has an edge in that department. While the Yankees fiddle, Torre leads L.A. into the Series. That may be enough to send Uberfuhrer Steinbrenner to the last roundup and push his idiot son, Colonel Klink, into the Laughing Academy. Dodgers in seven.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Good thing the International Cycling Union relaxed its rules to let Lance Armstrong return early from his “retirement” to continue his self-aggrandizing ways. Those pesky anti-doping safeguards? Don’t worry about ‘em, Lance. Forget the fact that he steadfastly refuses to let previous urine samples be tested by today’s advanced techniques, the better to determine whether Armstrong was doping during his Tour de France title runs, as has been alleged by U.S. cycling legend Greg LeMond and many others in Europe. Let Armstrong ride and flaunt the rules, all the while doing nothing to help a sport that has been ravaged by scandal. Armstrong will get his new dose of fame, but he had better be careful, because the world’s anti-doping forces are more vigilant than ever.
-EH-
It has become a staple of just about every up-from-nowhere sports movie in history. The lovable losers, having shucked off the past ignominy of playing at a level similar to Ben Affleck’s recent movie career, reach the inevitable Moment of Truth. There, after absorbing repeated body blows, they regroup and carry on to great success.
You saw it in “Major League.” “Major League II.” “Caddyshack.” “Angels in the Outfield.” “Rocky II.” “Rocky III.” “Rocky XVII, Incontinence Island.” And so on. It’s a Hollywood formula designed to produce two-star, sweat-soaked, feel-good pictures you can watch again and again. Okay, so not “Caddyshack II.” That one made “Major League: Back to the Minors” look like “Stagecoach.”
That’s Hollywood for you, serving up pleasing entertainment designed to keep America uplifted and positive, sort of like an arts Miracle Bra. It’s usually doesn’t happen like that in real life. Away from the silver screen, dreams get dashed, quick starts become forgotten fades and Cinderella gets robbed at knifepoint on the way home from the ball.
Back in the heady days of June, when Tampa Bay was enjoying an are-you-kidding-me ride atop the AL East, most sensible observers figured it nothing more than an temporary high, like what happens when you stand up too quickly or an catch an inadvertent smile from the pretty girl who has mistaken you for someone else. You want the real stuff, you go to Keith Richards. Or the Red Sox. Tampa was going to fall all right. Even your esteemed narrator predicted a crash and burn scenario for TB. He even had some fun with the team’s decision to eschew all satanic nickname references. And in early September, when the Lucifer Rays dropped six of seven and saw their lead shrink faster than a guy’s best friend in Arctic waters, you knew what was coming next. Reality was ready to take the final hand. Step aside, boys, and let the Pros from Dover play through.
Only it didn’t happen that way. Tampa took four of six from the Sawx and closed out the AL East, completing one of the most amazing turnarounds in sports history. The Miracle Mets had nothing on these guys. The Mephistopheles Rays were so bad the producers of “Ishtar” laughed at them. Their 10 years of existence were only marginally more successful than the French army’s performance in WWII. The “high water” mark came in 2004, when TB raged to a 70-91 record and finished only 30.5 games out of first. There was bad, Michael Bolton-bad and the Devil Rays. To improve on a franchise’s best mark by 27 wins and to triumph 31 more times than its immediate predecessor is absolutely indescribable. You could convene a meeting of Billy Shakespeare, Dante Alighieri, Leo Tolstoy and Joan Rivers and they couldn’t come up with the words to portray the colossal accomplishment of this team. With apologies to Chuck D (Dickens, that is), “It was the worst of times; it was the best of times.”
The Abaddon Rays took things even further in the ALDS, dumping the ChiSox in four and robbing the baseball world of another couple weeks Ozzie Guillen’s comedy stylings. Now, it’s the Carmine Hose in the other dugout, and Tampa Bay can’t possibly win again, can it? Look at this team. Exactly one of its regulars hit better than .286 for the season, and that was the catcher, Dioner Navarro. (Who?!) Only two Satan Rays players hit more than 20 homers. Tampa Bay’s current closer has a save percentage of 72.2%, not exactly a shining Fireman of the Year resume. And have you seen those silly glasses on manager Joe Maddon? Maybe they work at Spago. Maybe. But on the Gulf Coast, they make him look like he’s trying to identify (unsuccessfully) with the younger players. What’s next, Timbaland and T-Pain blasting out of the manager’s office? Talk that s***, indeed.
Then you have the Sawx, with Papi and Youk and Coco and Dice-K. With two Series titles in the last four years. With enough success to turn them from America’s lovable losers and cursed sympathetic heroes into the New Yankees. Really, can anybody outside of New England root for these guys – frontrunners excepted, of course. It’s enough to make you want to hug Hank Steinbrenner. Don’t laugh. Baseball needs his special version of craziness. At some point during his tenure, he’s going to charge into the clubhouse with a loaded gun. You wait and see.
How can the simple, underdog Beelzebub Rays contend with the Nation? Come on, now. We’re talking the Ghost of Bloody Sock Schilling here. The Comeback. Next to all of that, Tampa Bay looks like it’s an American Legion outfit. So, the smart money and even the dumb money is screaming, “PICK BOSTON.” But El Hombre has learned his lesson. He predicted the collapse that never came. Made fun of the Prince of Darkness Rays when praise was in order. Something special is going on down there, and not even the Sawx can spoil it. Boston got a break when it drew the Angels in the ALDS. All it had to do was throw a cap onto the field with that signature “B” embroidered on the front and the whole L.A. team would need to change its uniform pants. Tampa Bay isn’t like that. It won’t back down.
Besides, Josh Beckett is hurting. Mike Lowell is out. And Manny, for all his loutish behavior and malingering, isn’t around, either. The Sawx couldn’t get it done in September against the Satan Rays, and they won’t do it in October, either.
The dream continues: Tampa Bay in Seven.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Thanks for stopping by, Cubbies. Since when does the 100th anniversary of anything guarantee you anything? Chicago fans thought they were owed some sort of cosmic reward for their suffering. Instead of getting a world title, they attained an annoying status that rivals that of the Red Sawx – without the championship. Let’s see, that’s two series, two 0-3 losses for Lou Piniella’s team. Nice work…So now T.O is a man of God. Good for him. It was inevitable that he would assume that persona at some point. Wonder if he’ll ever try to be a good teammate, or is that out of the question?…Republican VP candidate Sarah Palin will drop the ceremonial first puck before the Flyers’ home opener against the Rangers, as part of the team’s “Ultimate Hockey Mom” contest. After she drops it, Democrat VP hopeful Joe Biden will enumerate the reasons why he would have held onto it. No word on Tina Fey’s plans for the evening…Things are so bad in Tennessee that fans are actually staying away from Volunteers’ home games. Come on, now, that four-point win over Northern Illinois wasn’t that bad, was it? The good news is that underachieving head coach Phil Fulmer is signed for seven more years at $3 million per. Talk about a lack of financial oversight. Still, there is no truth to the rumor that a couple more losses will convince the school to change its fight song to “Rocky Bottom.”
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Back in 1983, gas cost $1.24, Michael Jackson was the King of Pop, and Joe Morgan and Tony Perez were each about 63 years old. Still, those two geezers led the Phillies through a remarkable September run and an NLCS victory over the Dodgers, with Sarge Matthews riding shotgun in the Cadillac. The two teams get it on 25 years later, and it’s tough to find a discernable difference between them. Both have solid pitching, a good-but-not-great lineup and above-average gloves. The difference will then come down to something off the field, an intangible if you will. Look no further than the dugout, where LA’s Joe Torre matches “wits” with Uncle Charley Manuel. Manuel is known for his ability to keep a team loose, but Torre somehow cured the rift between the old and young players on the Dodgers – and he found a way to keep Manny Ramirez from laying hands on the team’s support staff. The series could come down to a few key moves, and there’s no doubt Torre has an edge in that department. While the Yankees fiddle, Torre leads L.A. into the Series. That may be enough to send Uberfuhrer Steinbrenner to the last roundup and push his idiot son, Colonel Klink, into the Laughing Academy. Dodgers in seven.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Good thing the International Cycling Union relaxed its rules to let Lance Armstrong return early from his “retirement” to continue his self-aggrandizing ways. Those pesky anti-doping safeguards? Don’t worry about ‘em, Lance. Forget the fact that he steadfastly refuses to let previous urine samples be tested by today’s advanced techniques, the better to determine whether Armstrong was doping during his Tour de France title runs, as has been alleged by U.S. cycling legend Greg LeMond and many others in Europe. Let Armstrong ride and flaunt the rules, all the while doing nothing to help a sport that has been ravaged by scandal. Armstrong will get his new dose of fame, but he had better be careful, because the world’s anti-doping forces are more vigilant than ever.
-EH-
Friday, August 29, 2008
It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
The image remains indelible for anyone who saw it. There he was, Germany’s greatest gift to Oklahoma football, standing in front a bank of angry Buckeye fans, smiling and leading cheers.
“BLOCK THAT KICK!”
“BLOCK THAT KICK!”
Ohio State had taken the obligatory timeout with 0:03 remaining and clinging to a 28-26 lead. It had been one of the most anticipated games of the ’77 season, and it hadn’t disappointed. The game had everything, from great players, to a pair of legendary coaches, cranky OSU boss Woody Hayes and Oklahoma’s slick Barry Switzer. There were lead changes and great plays. Screaming fans and plenty of drama.
Now, it would come down to one, 41-yard kick. And Uwe von Schamann was standing there, leading cheers as the Ohio State leatherthroats were screaming for him to fail. Like that would bother von Schamann. Here was a guy who grew up in Berlin, was raised by a single mother and had come to America with only enough money to make it to Memphis. The trip to Texas came courtesy of mom’s thumb. Next to that, even the most delirious crowd sounded like birds chirping on a pristine spring day.
After the commercials were finished, von Schamann lined it up – and nailed it. Oklahoma 29, Ohio State 28. The Sooners were euphoric, and their mustachioed kicker was a hero whose accomplishment is referred to merely as “The Kick” in OU lore. Oklahoma didn’t win it all that year, thanks a regular-season stumble against Earl Campbell and the Texas Longhorns and an Orange Bowl debacle against Arkansas and Roland Sales.
El Hombre presents this history lesson for two reasons. First, it is always good to recount crushing Ohio State losses. Second, although the Buckeyes and Sooners did play a rematch six years later in Norman (won by OSU), they haven’t played since. That ought to change next January, when the schools square off for the BCS championship. It should be a bit of delicious irony for college football fans. One team that can’t seem to close the deal in the title tilt against another that hasn’t been able to win any bowl game of late. One can almost imagine the marketing campaign by Fox: “Someone’s got to win!”
That’s right, girls and boys, it’s college football time again. And there is much to celebrate, if only because we’re done with pre-pubescent gymnastic sprites, poor-sport Taekwondo losers and Bob Costas’ perpetual perkiness. It is sad, however, that Count Bela Karolyi has returned to his castle in the Carpathian Mountains. Ah, well, there’s always London in 2012. As the nation prepares for the first big weekend of action, here are some of the people, stories and abominations worth watching.
BCS Follies: The method of choosing a national champion makes Olympic gymnastics judging seem accurate and fair. Perhaps the college football pooh-bahs instituted the BCS to make sure the sport wasn’t absolutely perfect, thereby embarrassing every other athletic pursuit and creating a product more addictive than the finest southeast Asian smack.
RichRod’s Magical Journey: Michigan fans wanted things shaken up, and there was no better way to accomplish that than to replace Lloyd Carr with Rich Rodriguez, the profane, high-energy, spit-in-the-face-of-convention former West Virginia coach. Okay, so the journey from Morgantown to Ann Arbor wasn’t exactly smooth, what with the vitriolic send-off Rodriguez received from angry Mountaineer faithful, to the acrimonious settlement of his buyout from WVU to the culture shock he induced at U-M by actually holding the players accountable, rather than sticking with the Same Old Way and losing to Ohio State just about every year. The Wolverines may fall to the Buckeyes this November, but they will never be bland and predictable again. Anyone wanting a piece of Michigan had better get one now, because in two years, few will have a shot. The beginning of the Rodriguez Era may have been rocky, but expect an avalanche of wins down the road.
Big Pressure: It’s bad enough carrying around the Bowden name, especially these days, when it has the relative strength of the U.S. dollar to the Euro. Daddy is just about finished at Florida State, to the point where they have already installed his successor in the office down the hall. Son Tommy, meanwhile, may have a contract extension at Clemson, but that doesn’t mean a posse won’t be coming his way if the Tigers can’t close the ACC deal this season. For years, Bowden was blocked by his dad. Now, FSU is ordinary, and so is the conference. If Clemson doesn’t win it this year, especially with a bunch of returnees, including QB Cullen Harper and backs C.J. Spiller and James Davis, that extension won’t save Bowden from the hoots of scalp collectors looking to add his to their pile. That means the Tigers had better fix their O-line, because Alabama’s gonna throw a thousand different front-four looks at them Saturday, and confusion could prove deadly.
The Challenge: UCLA took out a full-page ad in the L.A. papers this week declaring, “The Monopoly on Los Angeles football is officially over.” They may not be playing the popular board game in Westwood anymore, but they should be playing “Clue,” as in get one. New coach Rick Neuheisel has inspired confidence and enthusiasm, but let’s be real here. USC’s second team would be a touchdown favorite over the Bruin varsity, and it’s possible the Uclans might win only four or five games this season. Yes, there is reason to hope, since Neuheisel knows his business, and coordinators Norm Chow and DeWayne Walker are top-shelf. But let’s be real. There is still a monopoly on football in SoCal, and the Bruins are living on Baltic Avenue, while USC has a penthouse on Park Place.
Fearless Predictions: So here’s how it shakes out, beginning with the conference races. ACC: Virginia Tech; Big East: West Virginia; Big Ten: Ohio State; Big 12: Oklahoma; Pac-10: USC; SEC: Florida.
Heisman winner: Chase Daniel, QB, Missouri.
BCS Championship Game: Ohio State 27, Oklahoma 23.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Let’s see now. Peyton Manning has started 160 games, and he is about six weeks past knee surgery to remove a bursa sac. And you have doubts he’ll start the Colts’ opener? Somebody hasn’t been paying attention too closely…There should be no complaining about Usain Bolt’s exuberance at the Olympics, especially from IOC president Jacques Rogge, who sanctioned these sanitized Communist games and put up no fuss when Beijing officials produced “evidence” that the Chinese female gymnasts were of age. Guess that laser printer was working overtime in the country’s Ministry of Cloak and Dagger Operations. Next to that sham, a little enthusiasm from a human blur is not a bit disturbing…It’s appropriate that eight-time Olympic champion swimmer Michael Phelps will host Saturday Night Live next month, since that show has been taking on water for years…In an attempt to boost attendance among the vast Memphis Iranian community, the Grizzlies signed 7-2 Hamed “Who’s Your” Haddadi. Expect the first “Nuclear Enrichment Night” to be held in November, and anybody who brings yellowcake uranium to the arena will get half off a regular-priced ticket.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: After taking an informal survey of Little League baseball veterans, the decision by the New Haven league that refuses to let nine-year old flamethrower (40 mph, the lowest setting at the local batting cage) Jericho Scott pitch is even more ludicrous than it was originally thought. Exactly what are these soft-tossers trying to teach children by having them back away from a challenge? In life, there are people who are going to be a little (or a lot) better than you in a chosen pursuit, and the key to success – or at least self-respect – is trying hard, giving it your all and tipping your hat to the other guy if he outperforms you. By forcing Scott off the mound – and worse – threatening to disband the league if he tries to pitch again, organizers are sending the worst message possible: That it’s best to meet tough challenges by backing away. Sports are supposed to teach lessons, not show kids how to take the easy way out. Shame on the adults in this one, and may they never be allowed to coach any youth sports again.
-EH-
The image remains indelible for anyone who saw it. There he was, Germany’s greatest gift to Oklahoma football, standing in front a bank of angry Buckeye fans, smiling and leading cheers.
“BLOCK THAT KICK!”
“BLOCK THAT KICK!”
Ohio State had taken the obligatory timeout with 0:03 remaining and clinging to a 28-26 lead. It had been one of the most anticipated games of the ’77 season, and it hadn’t disappointed. The game had everything, from great players, to a pair of legendary coaches, cranky OSU boss Woody Hayes and Oklahoma’s slick Barry Switzer. There were lead changes and great plays. Screaming fans and plenty of drama.
Now, it would come down to one, 41-yard kick. And Uwe von Schamann was standing there, leading cheers as the Ohio State leatherthroats were screaming for him to fail. Like that would bother von Schamann. Here was a guy who grew up in Berlin, was raised by a single mother and had come to America with only enough money to make it to Memphis. The trip to Texas came courtesy of mom’s thumb. Next to that, even the most delirious crowd sounded like birds chirping on a pristine spring day.
After the commercials were finished, von Schamann lined it up – and nailed it. Oklahoma 29, Ohio State 28. The Sooners were euphoric, and their mustachioed kicker was a hero whose accomplishment is referred to merely as “The Kick” in OU lore. Oklahoma didn’t win it all that year, thanks a regular-season stumble against Earl Campbell and the Texas Longhorns and an Orange Bowl debacle against Arkansas and Roland Sales.
El Hombre presents this history lesson for two reasons. First, it is always good to recount crushing Ohio State losses. Second, although the Buckeyes and Sooners did play a rematch six years later in Norman (won by OSU), they haven’t played since. That ought to change next January, when the schools square off for the BCS championship. It should be a bit of delicious irony for college football fans. One team that can’t seem to close the deal in the title tilt against another that hasn’t been able to win any bowl game of late. One can almost imagine the marketing campaign by Fox: “Someone’s got to win!”
That’s right, girls and boys, it’s college football time again. And there is much to celebrate, if only because we’re done with pre-pubescent gymnastic sprites, poor-sport Taekwondo losers and Bob Costas’ perpetual perkiness. It is sad, however, that Count Bela Karolyi has returned to his castle in the Carpathian Mountains. Ah, well, there’s always London in 2012. As the nation prepares for the first big weekend of action, here are some of the people, stories and abominations worth watching.
BCS Follies: The method of choosing a national champion makes Olympic gymnastics judging seem accurate and fair. Perhaps the college football pooh-bahs instituted the BCS to make sure the sport wasn’t absolutely perfect, thereby embarrassing every other athletic pursuit and creating a product more addictive than the finest southeast Asian smack.
RichRod’s Magical Journey: Michigan fans wanted things shaken up, and there was no better way to accomplish that than to replace Lloyd Carr with Rich Rodriguez, the profane, high-energy, spit-in-the-face-of-convention former West Virginia coach. Okay, so the journey from Morgantown to Ann Arbor wasn’t exactly smooth, what with the vitriolic send-off Rodriguez received from angry Mountaineer faithful, to the acrimonious settlement of his buyout from WVU to the culture shock he induced at U-M by actually holding the players accountable, rather than sticking with the Same Old Way and losing to Ohio State just about every year. The Wolverines may fall to the Buckeyes this November, but they will never be bland and predictable again. Anyone wanting a piece of Michigan had better get one now, because in two years, few will have a shot. The beginning of the Rodriguez Era may have been rocky, but expect an avalanche of wins down the road.
Big Pressure: It’s bad enough carrying around the Bowden name, especially these days, when it has the relative strength of the U.S. dollar to the Euro. Daddy is just about finished at Florida State, to the point where they have already installed his successor in the office down the hall. Son Tommy, meanwhile, may have a contract extension at Clemson, but that doesn’t mean a posse won’t be coming his way if the Tigers can’t close the ACC deal this season. For years, Bowden was blocked by his dad. Now, FSU is ordinary, and so is the conference. If Clemson doesn’t win it this year, especially with a bunch of returnees, including QB Cullen Harper and backs C.J. Spiller and James Davis, that extension won’t save Bowden from the hoots of scalp collectors looking to add his to their pile. That means the Tigers had better fix their O-line, because Alabama’s gonna throw a thousand different front-four looks at them Saturday, and confusion could prove deadly.
The Challenge: UCLA took out a full-page ad in the L.A. papers this week declaring, “The Monopoly on Los Angeles football is officially over.” They may not be playing the popular board game in Westwood anymore, but they should be playing “Clue,” as in get one. New coach Rick Neuheisel has inspired confidence and enthusiasm, but let’s be real here. USC’s second team would be a touchdown favorite over the Bruin varsity, and it’s possible the Uclans might win only four or five games this season. Yes, there is reason to hope, since Neuheisel knows his business, and coordinators Norm Chow and DeWayne Walker are top-shelf. But let’s be real. There is still a monopoly on football in SoCal, and the Bruins are living on Baltic Avenue, while USC has a penthouse on Park Place.
Fearless Predictions: So here’s how it shakes out, beginning with the conference races. ACC: Virginia Tech; Big East: West Virginia; Big Ten: Ohio State; Big 12: Oklahoma; Pac-10: USC; SEC: Florida.
Heisman winner: Chase Daniel, QB, Missouri.
BCS Championship Game: Ohio State 27, Oklahoma 23.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Let’s see now. Peyton Manning has started 160 games, and he is about six weeks past knee surgery to remove a bursa sac. And you have doubts he’ll start the Colts’ opener? Somebody hasn’t been paying attention too closely…There should be no complaining about Usain Bolt’s exuberance at the Olympics, especially from IOC president Jacques Rogge, who sanctioned these sanitized Communist games and put up no fuss when Beijing officials produced “evidence” that the Chinese female gymnasts were of age. Guess that laser printer was working overtime in the country’s Ministry of Cloak and Dagger Operations. Next to that sham, a little enthusiasm from a human blur is not a bit disturbing…It’s appropriate that eight-time Olympic champion swimmer Michael Phelps will host Saturday Night Live next month, since that show has been taking on water for years…In an attempt to boost attendance among the vast Memphis Iranian community, the Grizzlies signed 7-2 Hamed “Who’s Your” Haddadi. Expect the first “Nuclear Enrichment Night” to be held in November, and anybody who brings yellowcake uranium to the arena will get half off a regular-priced ticket.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: After taking an informal survey of Little League baseball veterans, the decision by the New Haven league that refuses to let nine-year old flamethrower (40 mph, the lowest setting at the local batting cage) Jericho Scott pitch is even more ludicrous than it was originally thought. Exactly what are these soft-tossers trying to teach children by having them back away from a challenge? In life, there are people who are going to be a little (or a lot) better than you in a chosen pursuit, and the key to success – or at least self-respect – is trying hard, giving it your all and tipping your hat to the other guy if he outperforms you. By forcing Scott off the mound – and worse – threatening to disband the league if he tries to pitch again, organizers are sending the worst message possible: That it’s best to meet tough challenges by backing away. Sports are supposed to teach lessons, not show kids how to take the easy way out. Shame on the adults in this one, and may they never be allowed to coach any youth sports again.
-EH-
Friday, August 8, 2008
Smile, China, the IOC loves you
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
By now, loyal El Hombre readers are quite familiar with his stance on the ’08 Olympics. To recap:
Chinese Communists bad. Beaten, tormented dissidents good.
Despite the protests of rational individuals, the 2008 Games will kick off tonight in Beijing, giving a country rated among the worst in the world in terms of human-rights violations a stage on which to sanitize its reputation. By removing any evidence of its crimes and limiting where reporters may roam, the Chinese can present an innocent face to the world. The sad part is, many will buy it. Further, President Bush’s unprecedented attendance at the Opening Ceremonies confers a legitimacy on the nation that it hasn’t enjoyed. Either that, or he’s going there to convince Chinese banks not to call in their loans all at once.
The IOC is complicit in this charade, too. When U.S. cyclists arrived at Beijing’s airport earlier this week, they did so wearing the surgical masks that had been distributed to many American athletes, largely because the air quality in the city is a step above that found in an NFL lineman’s shoe. Friday’s reading of particulates found in each cubic meter of air was 191 micrograms, just a “bit” over the World Health Organization (WHO) standard of 50. That stellar number earned the designation “fairly good” from the Chinese government, who must consider being trapped inside an airplane lavatory with a cigar smoker “acceptable.” By the end of the Games, we may have our first reported case of an injury sustained by someone’s walking into a wall of air.
So, the cyclists wore masks. Can’t blame them, since they are elite athletes, for whom the need for clean lungs is rather important. Needless to say, Chinese officials were outraged and planned to say something to the cyclists, just as soon as they stopped coughing. The IOC wasn’t so reticent, demanding apologies and chastising the athletes for embarrassing their hosts. Perhaps if the air in Beijing weren’t listed as “chewable” by the WHO, the cyclists wouldn’t have masked up. The IOC’s reaction is consistent with its high-stress response to everything regarding these Olympics. Since the governing body bestowed this opportunity on China, it has sought to defend its decision at every turn. Edicts have been issued banning any kind of political protest. Any moves made by the Chinese, such as pre-Games shenanigans with TV networks, have been tolerated. And, now, when athletes show up with legitimate concerns for their health, the IOC jumps in. Based on this, it looks like that North Korean bid for the 2020 games might be green-lighted.
Okay, so China was a poor choice. And the Games could well give the world a view of the country as unrealistic Joan Rivers’ face. But there will still be plenty of competition going on, and hundreds of American athletes trying to earn gold medals and marketing dollars. Here are a few of the storylines worth following. (NOTE: Treacly, maudlin candidates need not apply; El Hombre will leave those to NBC’s drama, er, sports department.)
* Scream Team: The NBA’s finest (sans Tim Duncan) have come together to bring the gold medal back to the U.S. Haven’t we heard that before? While Coach K spent time learning how to berate refs in Uzbek, Greek and Finnish, stars like Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, Dwyane Wade and Chris Paul have pledged to play nice together and win it all. Trouble is, Jerry Colangelo saw fit to include only one pure shooter – Michael Redd – on the team. Good to see we have learned how to play international ball in the past four years. So, expect a lot of zone defenses and frustrated wing guards stymied in their attempts to drive to the hoop. Oh, and look for a crashing lack of sportsmanship against overmatched opponents like Angola, as the U.S. players dunk and mug, even when they’re up by 70. Better win the gold, guys, or we’re sending the college kids in ’12.
* Spitz Take: It’s hard to imagine the walls of American kids’ rooms adorned with posters of Michael Phelps, as they were in 1976 when Mark Spitz piled up seven golds in Munich. Then again, Phelps doesn’t look as good in a Speedo as Spitz did. Phelps is going for a record eight gold medals in Beijing, and he might just get them, provided his controversial space-age swimsuit holds up. Phelps must swim at least 17 times during the Olympics and could have his dream of passing Spitz torpedoed right away, should fellow American Ryan Lochte top him in the 400 IM. Phelps is a remarkable athlete, but he will tie, not best Spitz, thanks to the sheer, overwhelming volume of work ahead.
* Spinners and Jumpers: Americans Shawn Johnson and Nastia Liukin will likely battle it out for the women’s all-around title, but the real showdown comes in the team competition, when the U.S. battles China. Johnson, Liukin and Co. slapped down Mao’s girls in the worlds by a point, and the frothing hometown crowd will demand revenge. Unfortunately, they’ll get it.
* Short-lived Reign: The IOC has decided that although 128 countries around the world play softball, the sport doesn’t deserve inclusion in future games. So, when the U.S. clocks the field for its fourth gold in as many Olympic competitions, softball will be gone. The Committee has vowed to review the decision next year, but re-instatement is a long shot, unless…perhaps if a nation favorable to the IOC won this year, it might allow softball to continue. That settles it: China gets the (wink-wink) gold, and softball gets new life.
* Drug World: They will be testing urine and blood this year. They might be looking at hair and saliva. Mucus is in play. And don’t forget those tats, which some have maintained can be delivery systems for doses of performance-enhancing drugs (really). The World Anti-Doping Agency is promising to be extra vigilant, and that’s a good thing, because picking out the cheaters isn’t as easy as it used to be, when listening to East German female swimmers imitate James Earl Jones and shave their goatees was all it took to figure out who was juicing.
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EL HOMBRE SEZ: A former Toledo football player has been charged with point-shaving, and disgraced NBA ref Tim Donaghy has asked to testify against him, in order to have some time shaved off his prison sentence. Either that, or he wants to share the same cell with the guy – if he’s convicted – to pick up some tips…In keeping with his stated goal of becoming a “global icon,” LeBron James has said he would consider playing in Europe when his contract expires. In a related story, new Knicks GM Donnie Walsh has been sending $21 million point guard/clubhouse cancer Stephon Marbury travel brochures from Italy…Alabama’s baseball team will play three games in Cuba next spring, so Fidel’s boys had better be careful about possible defectors who could disguise themselves as Crimson Tide players. Some possible clues include anyone asking to drink a “Medico Pepper” or seeking help to shave a “Quattro” into their back hair to support a NASCAR driver.
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AND ANOTHER THING: Now that Brett Favre is a Jet, we can stop following the soap opera regarding his ’08 destination – which, by the way, the National Poison Control Center established as an alternative to syrup of ipecac for vomit inducing in the event someone swallows bleach. Instead, we can start speculating on whether he’ll be any good in New York. The Favre supporters, and there are legions throughout the media, are trying to make the Packers look bad in this, because they shipped Cowboy Quarterback away. That’s ridiculous, since they spent three years on the Brett Retirement Watch and then were told as late as Draft Day ’08 that Favre wasn’t coming back. That’s why they picked Brian Brohm. That’s why they made Aaron Rodgers their starter during mini-camps and OTAs. That’s why they weren’t happy when Favre declared his renewed interest in football in early July. Favre may well be the best QB available to the Packers, but his waffling and diva-like behavior made it impossible for Green Bay to keep him and maintain order among the rest of the roster. Favre moves on to the Jets carrying a big hunk of Packer history with him. Given his age, his performance in two of the past three seasons and his lack of serious conditioning work during the off-season, it’s unlikely he’ll be leading any Super Bowl charges. We’ll still have to deal with his fawning P.R. men on espn, John Madden’s pathological love for him and the rest of his apologists, but Green Bay is better off without him, today and two years from now.
-EH-
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