EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Make sure you squeeze every drop of NFL action you can out of this season, sports fans, because the way things look, it’s going to be a long while before the big fellas are hitting again. You want to talk Hard Knocks? Try what the owners are going to do to the players in the upcoming labor negotiations.
Unlike Paul Tagliabue, who preached conciliation and practically was pinned to former labor boss Gene Upshaw, Roger Goodell is a war-time consigliere, and that suits capos like False Face, Captain Mac-and-Cheese, Little Danny and The B-Movie King just fine. They want more dough, and Goodell won’t stop squinting until he gets it for them.
This time next year, expect a lockout, enough angry rhetoric to fill a presidential election cycle and some posse members looking for real work. With that specter looming like a swimsuit competition on The View, let’s make the most of the coming NFL season and all of its glorious plot lines.
Sigmund Freud’s All-Stars: During Field of Dreams, Terence Mann asks Ray Kinsella, “You’re seeing an entire team of psychiatrists, aren’t you?” but he could well have been addressing the Bengals’ trio of Chad Ochocrazy, Me-O and “Make It Rain” Jones, who will no doubt lead Cincinnati coach Marvin Lewis to the shrink’s couch this season. You can always count on Cincy for something bizarre, whether it’s the team’s previous front office circus, its hideous uniforms or its proclivity for coming up short in key situations. This year may establish a new standard. Jones has pledged to keep his mouth shut and even shed his toxic “Pac-Man” moniker, but keeping a lid on the Ativan Twins may prove impossible for the franchise. Get ready for a season of can-you-top-this lunacy that could land Lewis in the Laughing Academy – or on the bread line.
Jersey Sure: After watching his performance during HBO’s Hard Knocks, network execs were no doubt salivating over the concept of The Rex Ryan Variety Show. You know, a little song, a little dance, a pair of double-XL pants. It sure was fun watching the Big Fella bludgeon the Jets through the pre-season, and now Ryan must navigate a league filled with people who want to beat the hell out of his team. That may sound fine to the coach, but he’s not the one out there cracking heads. The Jets have a new stadium of their own (or at least half of a new stadium) and a lot of talent. They also have the undivided attention of each opponent. That’s not the best thing with a young QB still learning how to pass to his teammates. But at least Ryan is ready for his close-up. And safe on the sidelines.
Into the Sunset (Maybe): El Hombre can assure you that this is the final season for Cowboy Quarterback. He’ll hang ‘em up after throwing another crushing post-season interception and never – EVER – ride Old Paint onto the gridiron again. Unless he doesn’t. Unless his dad-gum love of NFL football overpowers reason and his saddle-sore body. Unless his love of slapping backsides, throwin’ snowballs and just living every kid’s dream is too powerful. Unless being with “his guys” in the locker room is better than being with “his family” on the ranch in Mississippi. Unless the Vikings send Joe Kapp, Mick Tinglehoff and Leif Ericson to beg him. Here are a couple fearless predictions regarding Number Four: 1. He doesn’t play every game; 2. He goes into seclusion when the Packers reach the Super Bowl.
Exile on C Street: Many Eagles fans got their wish in April when their team shipped out QB Donovan McNabb and began the much-anticipated Kevin Kolb Era. Forget that half the city still can’t pronounce the young passer’s last name (KOBB) or that when the Birds drafted him four years ago few knew where he had played his college ball or had ever watched him perform. He wasn’t McNabb, and that was good enough for them. While Kolb endures his inevitable growing pains, McNabb tries to help turn the fetid Redskins into contenders. It won’t be easy, no matter how solid new coach Mike Shanahan’s track record might be. And if McNabb thought D.C. was a sanctuary, wait ‘til the tough times come, and even the team’s broadcasters start tossing bombs at him. The good news is that Fat Albert will be a scapegoat for another week or so, before he’s traded away – hopefully to Vladivostok – but then the pressure shifts to McNabb. So, go ahead, folks and make him feel at home. All together now: “BOOOOOO!!!”
No Super Home: Every night, False Face gets under his Cowboys comforter, smoothes out his America’s Team pajamas and prays fervently that his team will play in the Super Bowl next February – in his colossal TV lounge, er, stadium. Ever since NFL fans realized the Big Game was being held in the pleasure dome, there has been much wringing of hands over the concept that the Cowboys could actually play for all the skittles at home. Well, fret not, America. It ain’t happening. In fact, thanks to their shaky O-line, overrated ballcarrier (Marion Barber) and stubborn insistence on keeping Roy Williams around, the Cowboys have as much chance of realizing False Face’s Super dreams as he does of reprising Alistair Cooke’s role as host of Masterpiece Theater. Sorry, FF, it’s another February at home.
Fearless Predictions: Cowboy Quarterback’s streak of playing in every game will be snapped this year, thanks to a cranky ankle and a Geritol deficit…Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis confronts his own mortality, growls at it, snarls at it but ultimately succumbs to it…The Lions won’t stink. Neither will the Raiders. The Bills, however, will…Say good-bye to the following coaches: Mangenius, Jack Del Rio, Lovie Smith and Tom Coughlin…Rookie of the Year: C.J. Spiller, Bills. MVP: Peyton Manning, Colts.
And the Envelope, Please: NFC Division Winners: East – Dallas; North – Green Bay; South – New Orleans; West – San Francisco. Wild Cards – Minnesota, Atlanta. Wild Card Round: Minnesota over San Francisco; Dallas over Atlanta; Divisional Round: Green Bay over New Orleans; Dallas over Minnesota; NFC Championship: Green Bay over Dallas.
AFC Division Winners: East – New England; North – Baltimore; South – Indianapolis; West – San Diego. Wild Cards – New York Jets, Pittsburgh. Wild Card Round: New England over Pittsburgh; Baltimore over Jets; Divisional Round: Indianapolis over New England; San Diego over Baltimore; AFC Championship: Indianapolis over San Diego.
Super Bowl XLV: Indianapolis 27, Green Bay 23.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The uniforms worn by Boise State and Virginia Tech Monday night made the costumes worn by the teams in “On Any Given Sunday” seem staid. Packer Rick said it best during the game: “I now have to watch Penn State-Alabama Saturday to get this out of my mind.” It will be refreshing to see a pair of teams whose sartorial tastes are nowhere near the nightmare paint favored by the Hokies and Broncos…The NC2A has “reprimanded” and “censured” Princeton for a “major” women’s tennis violation. Sounds about right for the Ivies. No probation here. That’s for the plebeians. If Muffy took some cash from “Uncle” Worthington at the Club, then shame on her, and by all means, admonish, reprove and even scold Old Nassau. Then, it’s off to the veranda for some ginnies…Guess Tony LaRussa isn’t such a genius when his team goes 7-16 and slides out of contention. But at least those great St. Louis fans keep cheering the losses…Back in the late 1980s, when Rumeal Robinson was leading Michigan to the top of the college hoops world, Dookie V used to bleat that the Wolverine guard would be “the CEO of a major corporation some day!” Now, Robinson is facing 30 years in stir for defrauding a bank on a $700,000 loan. Sad…In trouble due to an illness suffered by its bid chief and enduring problems with some cranky farmers, Munich has turned to Katerina Witt to spearhead its campaign for the 2018 Winter Olympics. The former figure skating star may not be able to overcome the German setback, but two things are certain. First, those farmers will fall in line, or they’ll be sent to the Russian front. Two, nobody can touch Witt in the swimsuit competition.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? When the game clock hits zero Sunday, you won’t find Chuck Bednarik sitting on Jim Taylor, making sure the Packers can’t run another play, as happened at the end of the 1960 NFL championship game between the Eagles and Green Bay. More than likely time will expire with a deep knee bend by Packer QB Aaron Rodgers, icing the win for the visitors and ruining the Birds’ nostalgia day. The 2010 opener represents the two stages of NFL rebuilding. Philly is in the early stages of its new identity, while the Pack has developed its personality fully. Rodgers may not throw for 300 yards Sunday, but he will have his moments – and plenty of them. Meanwhile, Kolb will look good at times and lost in other situations. Meanwhile, the Eagle ground game will suffer behind a shaky offensive line that tries to overcome a nasty Green Bay 3-4, and an average secondary will have problems controlling Rodgers, Donald Driver and Co. Don’t push the panic button yet, Eagles fans, but do notice the difference between a maturing contender and a work in progress. Green Bay 24, Eagles 13.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Last week in Atlanta, North Carolina was without 13 players, due to various hints and allegations. Georgia WR A.J. Green is out for three more contests due to off-field shenanigans, and several of his teammates have been arrested over the past year. Michigan awaits its probationary sentence. Missouri dismissed its leading rusher after he was charged with sexual assault. All over the country, schools are compromising themselves by hiring and recruiting people who have no business being part of university communities – all in the pursuit of greater glory and money. Mostly money. The coaches are compromising established standards by searching for advantages anywhere they can and by bringing aboard players with questionable backgrounds and no commitment to their schools, other than on the field. With the competition for dollars so acute, we can’t expect a change in this behavior anytime soon. The only antidote is president-led reform that puts in place stringent standards for coaches and players and keeps the bad actors away from the front door, much less in the house. For a while, this kind of behavior was confined to the so-called “bandit” schools, which operated on the fringes and didn’t care much about their reputations. But when establishment members like Michigan and North Carolina are stung by impropriety, it shows how widespread the trouble is. And it’s time for a change.
-EH-
Showing posts with label Donovan McNabb. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Donovan McNabb. Show all posts
Friday, September 10, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
MLB 2010 Spectacular
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Talk about your dream off-season for Bud Sellout and the rest of the MLB moneychangers. After several winters of navigating so many drug issues that the annual hot-stove discussion sounded like the health-care debate, there was relative peace and quiet. Some might say that was a result of so many controversies in previous years, but when your only pharmaceutical concerns arise from the return of an old-school pincushion and the one-time(!) cocaine use by one of your managers, it’s a win.
Another couple years like this, and Sellout will be able to launch his Hall of Fame candidacy without concern – or conscience. After 15-plus seasons, the only talk of juice these days is of the tobacco variety. That means the 2010 campaign could well be devoid of discussion about performance-enhancing drugs, largely since most of the big-name users have been outed, and the market for giant-headed bacne-d sluggers like BALCO Bonds has dried up. While the NBA deals with the pistoleros, the NFL tries to figure a way to keep the Steelers from running wild (allegedly) in nightclubs, and the NHL hopes the Olympics will generate interest in a late season Blue Jackets-Preds game (good luck with that), baseball is in pretty good shape. That means we get to – mostly – focus on the sport, at least for now.
Big Spenders: For the previous few decades, the definition of extravagance in Minnesota was using Hefty bags for the outfield wall in the Homerdome, rather than the generic stuff. That all changed last week when the Twins went deep financially and signed catcher/hometown hero/golden boy Joe Mauer to a Brobdingnagian contract. Since the Twins are moving into a new, outdoor stadium that should have fans considering P.E.D.s just to get through an April night game, they have plenty of extra cheddar on hand. Thus the big deal for Mauer, which should keep the catcher around until he’s ready for knee replacements. The only problem now is that future Minnesota standouts are going to expect similarly generous treatment and not be content with a below-market contract and a couple coupons for Juicy Lucy burgers.
Divorce (Mc)Court: How ‘bout all those off-season additions for the Dodgers?! Let’s see, there was second baseman Jamey Carroll. And don’t forget Jamey Carroll. That’s what happens when your owner and his wife are trying to decide who gets custody of the dugout stash of sunflower seeds. It’s an ugly, high-profile split between Frank and Jamie McCourt that has gone so crazy Frank won’t even let his estranged wife get into Dodger Stadium to clean out her office. Think he wants to spend a lot of dough on free agents? If this thing drags on, it could become like “Major League,” with the players flying on a WWII-issue twin-prop and the hot water turned off in the clubhouse. At least the Dodger Dogs still taste good.
The Natural: He stands 6-4, weighs 220 pounds and when his bat meets the ball, the resulting sound registers on seismographs. Atlanta’s Jason Heyward went from off-season prospect to Opening Day starter by hitting the ball so long and far that even an old dinosaur like Bobby Cox was impressed. One Heyward homer caused $3,400 of damage on a front office employee’s car. In fact, the mighty lefty hit so many out during the spring the Braves were forced to put netting over the rightfield fence to protect cars, innocent bystanders and native wildlife. He may struggle at first with the rigors of a 162-game season, but when he hits ‘em, they stay hit.
Return of the Empire: Darth Vader makes very few public appearances these days, but the Yankee Empire returned to power last November with the usual formula of high-priced talent and arrogance. The payroll is down a little this year, as funds were diverted to construction of a 21st century Death Star, but that doesn’t mean the Yanks aren’t still dangerous and heartless. Expect another run at the title in the Bronx as a lovable collection of gritty All-Stars wins the affection of fans with its diverse portfolios and tax shelters. And make sure to tune in to the 39 nationally televised games between the Yanks and Red Sawx, as we spend six months hearing about the “greatest rivalry since Rome and Carthage.”
Big Mac, Hold the ‘Roids: Mark McGwire finally ended his self-imposed exile and returned to baseball as the hitting coach for the St. Louis Cardinals. Along the way, he “admitted” to using steroids, HGH and vitamin water – but only to recover from injury. Nope, Big Mac never dreamed that the stuff would turn him into a mid-‘90s Popeye and allow him to hit baseballs so far they reach the ionosphere. Turns out there is a new side effect to the juice: delusion. McGwire hopes his time with the Cards convinces people he should be in the Hall of Fame, or at least 30% of the voters should include him on their ballots, instead of 25%. Meanwhile, Texas Rangers manager Ron Washington is still gainfully employed, after news leaked out that he was using cocaine. Talk about the Hot Tub Time Machine. Did he travel back to the 1980s and start hanging out with Steve Howe and Dwight Gooden? What’s next, hair relaxer and the Victory Tour?
The Envelope, Please: Here’s how it all shakes out: NL Division Winners: Phillies, Cardinals, Rockies. NL Wild Card: Braves. AL Division Winners: Yankees, Tigers, Angels. AL Wild Card: Red Sawx.
NL Playoffs: Phillies over Rockies; Cardinals over Braves. NLCS: Phillies over Cardinals.
AL Playoffs: Yankees over Tigers; Angels over Red Sawx. ALCS: Angels over Yankees.
World Series: Phillies over Angels. In six.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The list of players declaring early for the NBDL, er, NBA Draft will grow exponentially in the coming weeks, as players flee totalitarian coaches, sociology papers and pesky NC2A regulations. Everybody has a right to work, but not everybody has a right to work in the NBA. Hear that, Manny Harris?...You can’t blame Browns nose tackle Shaun Rogers for trying to carry a loaded .45-caliber gun onto an airplane. It isn’t as if there’s been a lot of talk about heightened airport security in, say, THE LAST EIGHT YEARS! What kind of an idiot is this guy? Let’s hope the Browns are smart enough to jettison him. Soon…Alabama will unveil in August a bronze statue of Nick Saban on its “Walk of Champions,” adding its newest national championship coach to the collection of memorials to previous winners, Wallace Wade, Frank Thomas, Bear Bryant and Gene Stallings. Saban’s, however, will be the only one that scowls when Gatorade is poured on it…Good news for NASCAR: Jeff Gordon and Matt Kenseth are feuding again! Since nobody’s paying much attention to the racing, maybe the drama will command attention. Maybe.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Eagles will never admit they are rebuilding (the “Gold Standard” isn’t about taking a step back, people), but their off-season moves indicate that is their philosophy. Once they trade Donovan McNabb, they will be in full reconstruction mode. The team didn’t sign one top-shelf free-agent, as they have done in the past. Their acquisitions leaned toward the direction of depth, rather than playmakers who help teams win big. Wednesday’s news (via The Philadelphia Inquirer) that Courageous Cat will likely be the backup QB in 2010 basically signed McNabb’s papers out of town, because there is no way the Birds will spend $5 mil on a third-string signal-caller, especially one as poor a pocket passer as C.C. If the Eagles indeed are taking a step back, that’s fine. Prosperity is practically impossible to maintain for a decade. But it would be nice if the team would admit it, rather than trying to convince fans that a Super Bowl run is possible this season. And, as for those who have begged the Birds to deal McNabb, be sure to react to every loss in ’10 with the same anger and vitriol you have in previous years. Make sure to blame it all on the quarterback, even if the defense is awful, and the offensive line couldn’t stop a brigade of tricycling four-year olds. If you’re going to be nasty, at least be consistent. If it was all McNabb’s fault before, it has to be all Kevin Kolb’s fault going forward.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: As the WWE has become more sophisticated(!) in its business model, it gets better and better at scripting its matches. (Please don’t tell loyal Hombre reader Big Ray that it’s fake.) Referees wear small earpieces, the better to get instructions from above. Well, don’t be surprised if you see a small apparatus jammed into the ears of the zebras at this week’s Final Four in Indianapolis. The idea of a West Virginia-Butler championship game is enough to make CBS executives do anything to prevent that from happening. So, they’ll have the refs make some shaky calls in key situations, the better to get some name-brand action in the title tilt. El Hombre is convinced that’s what happened with that awful charging call in the final minutes of last Sunday’s Duke-Baylor game. The Bears were rallying, but the idea of heading to Indy without a big name was too much to take. So, the CBS exec sent the message from the booth, and the striped shirt responded dutifully. Duke wins. Don’t be surprised if there are some criminal calls this weekend, the better to preserve ratings and placate advertisers, who might mutiny if the Bulldogs play the Mountaineers Monday. Sound too cynical for words? Maybe, but at least wait until late Saturday night before you pass judgment.
-EH-
Talk about your dream off-season for Bud Sellout and the rest of the MLB moneychangers. After several winters of navigating so many drug issues that the annual hot-stove discussion sounded like the health-care debate, there was relative peace and quiet. Some might say that was a result of so many controversies in previous years, but when your only pharmaceutical concerns arise from the return of an old-school pincushion and the one-time(!) cocaine use by one of your managers, it’s a win.
Another couple years like this, and Sellout will be able to launch his Hall of Fame candidacy without concern – or conscience. After 15-plus seasons, the only talk of juice these days is of the tobacco variety. That means the 2010 campaign could well be devoid of discussion about performance-enhancing drugs, largely since most of the big-name users have been outed, and the market for giant-headed bacne-d sluggers like BALCO Bonds has dried up. While the NBA deals with the pistoleros, the NFL tries to figure a way to keep the Steelers from running wild (allegedly) in nightclubs, and the NHL hopes the Olympics will generate interest in a late season Blue Jackets-Preds game (good luck with that), baseball is in pretty good shape. That means we get to – mostly – focus on the sport, at least for now.
Big Spenders: For the previous few decades, the definition of extravagance in Minnesota was using Hefty bags for the outfield wall in the Homerdome, rather than the generic stuff. That all changed last week when the Twins went deep financially and signed catcher/hometown hero/golden boy Joe Mauer to a Brobdingnagian contract. Since the Twins are moving into a new, outdoor stadium that should have fans considering P.E.D.s just to get through an April night game, they have plenty of extra cheddar on hand. Thus the big deal for Mauer, which should keep the catcher around until he’s ready for knee replacements. The only problem now is that future Minnesota standouts are going to expect similarly generous treatment and not be content with a below-market contract and a couple coupons for Juicy Lucy burgers.
Divorce (Mc)Court: How ‘bout all those off-season additions for the Dodgers?! Let’s see, there was second baseman Jamey Carroll. And don’t forget Jamey Carroll. That’s what happens when your owner and his wife are trying to decide who gets custody of the dugout stash of sunflower seeds. It’s an ugly, high-profile split between Frank and Jamie McCourt that has gone so crazy Frank won’t even let his estranged wife get into Dodger Stadium to clean out her office. Think he wants to spend a lot of dough on free agents? If this thing drags on, it could become like “Major League,” with the players flying on a WWII-issue twin-prop and the hot water turned off in the clubhouse. At least the Dodger Dogs still taste good.
The Natural: He stands 6-4, weighs 220 pounds and when his bat meets the ball, the resulting sound registers on seismographs. Atlanta’s Jason Heyward went from off-season prospect to Opening Day starter by hitting the ball so long and far that even an old dinosaur like Bobby Cox was impressed. One Heyward homer caused $3,400 of damage on a front office employee’s car. In fact, the mighty lefty hit so many out during the spring the Braves were forced to put netting over the rightfield fence to protect cars, innocent bystanders and native wildlife. He may struggle at first with the rigors of a 162-game season, but when he hits ‘em, they stay hit.
Return of the Empire: Darth Vader makes very few public appearances these days, but the Yankee Empire returned to power last November with the usual formula of high-priced talent and arrogance. The payroll is down a little this year, as funds were diverted to construction of a 21st century Death Star, but that doesn’t mean the Yanks aren’t still dangerous and heartless. Expect another run at the title in the Bronx as a lovable collection of gritty All-Stars wins the affection of fans with its diverse portfolios and tax shelters. And make sure to tune in to the 39 nationally televised games between the Yanks and Red Sawx, as we spend six months hearing about the “greatest rivalry since Rome and Carthage.”
Big Mac, Hold the ‘Roids: Mark McGwire finally ended his self-imposed exile and returned to baseball as the hitting coach for the St. Louis Cardinals. Along the way, he “admitted” to using steroids, HGH and vitamin water – but only to recover from injury. Nope, Big Mac never dreamed that the stuff would turn him into a mid-‘90s Popeye and allow him to hit baseballs so far they reach the ionosphere. Turns out there is a new side effect to the juice: delusion. McGwire hopes his time with the Cards convinces people he should be in the Hall of Fame, or at least 30% of the voters should include him on their ballots, instead of 25%. Meanwhile, Texas Rangers manager Ron Washington is still gainfully employed, after news leaked out that he was using cocaine. Talk about the Hot Tub Time Machine. Did he travel back to the 1980s and start hanging out with Steve Howe and Dwight Gooden? What’s next, hair relaxer and the Victory Tour?
The Envelope, Please: Here’s how it all shakes out: NL Division Winners: Phillies, Cardinals, Rockies. NL Wild Card: Braves. AL Division Winners: Yankees, Tigers, Angels. AL Wild Card: Red Sawx.
NL Playoffs: Phillies over Rockies; Cardinals over Braves. NLCS: Phillies over Cardinals.
AL Playoffs: Yankees over Tigers; Angels over Red Sawx. ALCS: Angels over Yankees.
World Series: Phillies over Angels. In six.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The list of players declaring early for the NBDL, er, NBA Draft will grow exponentially in the coming weeks, as players flee totalitarian coaches, sociology papers and pesky NC2A regulations. Everybody has a right to work, but not everybody has a right to work in the NBA. Hear that, Manny Harris?...You can’t blame Browns nose tackle Shaun Rogers for trying to carry a loaded .45-caliber gun onto an airplane. It isn’t as if there’s been a lot of talk about heightened airport security in, say, THE LAST EIGHT YEARS! What kind of an idiot is this guy? Let’s hope the Browns are smart enough to jettison him. Soon…Alabama will unveil in August a bronze statue of Nick Saban on its “Walk of Champions,” adding its newest national championship coach to the collection of memorials to previous winners, Wallace Wade, Frank Thomas, Bear Bryant and Gene Stallings. Saban’s, however, will be the only one that scowls when Gatorade is poured on it…Good news for NASCAR: Jeff Gordon and Matt Kenseth are feuding again! Since nobody’s paying much attention to the racing, maybe the drama will command attention. Maybe.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Eagles will never admit they are rebuilding (the “Gold Standard” isn’t about taking a step back, people), but their off-season moves indicate that is their philosophy. Once they trade Donovan McNabb, they will be in full reconstruction mode. The team didn’t sign one top-shelf free-agent, as they have done in the past. Their acquisitions leaned toward the direction of depth, rather than playmakers who help teams win big. Wednesday’s news (via The Philadelphia Inquirer) that Courageous Cat will likely be the backup QB in 2010 basically signed McNabb’s papers out of town, because there is no way the Birds will spend $5 mil on a third-string signal-caller, especially one as poor a pocket passer as C.C. If the Eagles indeed are taking a step back, that’s fine. Prosperity is practically impossible to maintain for a decade. But it would be nice if the team would admit it, rather than trying to convince fans that a Super Bowl run is possible this season. And, as for those who have begged the Birds to deal McNabb, be sure to react to every loss in ’10 with the same anger and vitriol you have in previous years. Make sure to blame it all on the quarterback, even if the defense is awful, and the offensive line couldn’t stop a brigade of tricycling four-year olds. If you’re going to be nasty, at least be consistent. If it was all McNabb’s fault before, it has to be all Kevin Kolb’s fault going forward.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: As the WWE has become more sophisticated(!) in its business model, it gets better and better at scripting its matches. (Please don’t tell loyal Hombre reader Big Ray that it’s fake.) Referees wear small earpieces, the better to get instructions from above. Well, don’t be surprised if you see a small apparatus jammed into the ears of the zebras at this week’s Final Four in Indianapolis. The idea of a West Virginia-Butler championship game is enough to make CBS executives do anything to prevent that from happening. So, they’ll have the refs make some shaky calls in key situations, the better to get some name-brand action in the title tilt. El Hombre is convinced that’s what happened with that awful charging call in the final minutes of last Sunday’s Duke-Baylor game. The Bears were rallying, but the idea of heading to Indy without a big name was too much to take. So, the CBS exec sent the message from the booth, and the striped shirt responded dutifully. Duke wins. Don’t be surprised if there are some criminal calls this weekend, the better to preserve ratings and placate advertisers, who might mutiny if the Bulldogs play the Mountaineers Monday. Sound too cynical for words? Maybe, but at least wait until late Saturday night before you pass judgment.
-EH-
Thursday, March 18, 2010
The Onset of Madness
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
No matter how poor a job the NC2A’s esteemed Rejection Committee did assembling this year’s bracket, watching the increasing love affair between tournament organizers and big-conference schools will certainly be more entertaining than suffering through the coming three weeks of manufactured drama surrounding Eldrick Woods’ return to golf. Could there be any storm capable of more damage than Woods’ decision to end his sackcloth-and-ashes tour at The Masters, which will be televised by espn and then CBS, the two networks most capable of slathering an event, athlete or coach in enough treacle to clog even the most efficient sewage system?
As sports fans prepare to have their brackets torn apart by underachieving high seeds and dastardly upstarts, espn is auditioning a battalion of string quartets for its melodramatic pre-tourney package, while Jim Nantz is rehearsing scads of catch phrases and hosannas to intone at properly reverential moments. And in Augusta, Gestapo-like security forces are preparing holding cells and sharpening their bayonets in anticipation of pouncing on any spectator brazen enough to regard Woods with anything other than awe and wonder. Forget waterboarding. Anyone caught so much as smirking at Woods will be made to listen to one of Augusta National’s oldest members recount stroke-by-stroke memories of his most recent rounds. Next to that, bamboo shoots under the fingernails is like a dinner date with Amanda Seyfried.
The best way to ward off the intense nausea this period is sure to induce (syrup of ipecac has nothing on this stuff) is to direct your attention at something else. Fortunately for sports fans, there is the NC2A tournament, which for all its faults, remains quite the spectacle, if only because Dookie V isn’t able to broadcast any games. That wonderful circumstance, however, that could well change in the coming dark times. Then again, it might be better if espn gets the broadcast rights to the tourney, because maybe it won’t decide to show 76% of the nation that compelling tilt between Duke and Arkansas-Peanut Butter. (Credit El Nino with that one.) Anyway, with the round of 65 already pared by one – thanks for stopping by, Winthrop – courtesy of the infernal play-in game that robs one school of the true tourney experience (once again, the little guy takes one in the shorts) it’s time to look at the best thing about March, aside from green beer, and make a few declarations.
Justice Deferred: Temple was hosed. The three-time Atlantic 10 champion finished 11-1, captured its conference’s regular-season and tourney titles, finished eighth in the RPI and beat Villanova by 10 points, but it received a five seed and the chance to play strong Ivy winner Cornell, which is better than the 12 seed it received. The Midwest bracket is too strong, especially since Kansas, the number one overall seed, is in it. Sure, the Jayhawks only have to play one of the other big boys (Ohio State and Georgetown) in the bracket, but their presence almost guarantees a tough finale for KU. West Virginia should have been treated more fairly. The Mountaineers didn’t necessarily deserve a number one seed, although WVU finished fourth in the RPI, had the nation’s third-toughest schedule, won the Big East tournament and closed the season on an 8-1 roll. But WVU should have had the softest number two road, against Duke, rather than Kentucky. Just what we need, more bile for Bob Huggins.
Mid-Major Slap-Around: Temple and Cornell weren’t the only mid-majors to get abused. Consider Butler and UTEP. Both could win a couple tourney games, but they are paired against each other, the better to guarantee the elimination of a non-BCS tough guy early on. Same goes for UNLV and Northern Iowa. Old Dominion was 27th in the final RPI, beat Georgetown in D.C. and is seeded 11th. Utah State is a 12, despite a 26-7 record, a win over BYU and a season-ending 17-1 run. Here’s hoping all the little guys win big. Won’t it be interesting to hear the Deflection Committee try to explain that?
Small Names, Big Games: There is a reason teams like Yosemite Sam Houston State and St. Mary’s win their conferences: They have guys who can play. As you peruse the early rounds of the tourney, be sure to check out SHS’s three-point specialist Corey Allmond, who hit 11 triples at Kentucky. Gonzaga fans can’t stand St. Mary’s 6-11 senior Omar Samhan, but his 20.9 ppg and 11.0 rpg have sure endeared him to the Gael faithful. Wofford’s Noah Dahlman (16.8 ppg) is a force along the front line, and Montana’s Anthony Johnson is one of the nation’s most accurate backcourt shooters. Pay attention every time New Mexico State guard Jahmar Young gets the rock, because he may be scoring in a couple seconds, and be alert whenever Utah State forward Tai Wesley is on the court, because few can fill a stat sheet like him.
Soo-Prise! You know there are going to be upsets. It happens all the time. So here are some first-rounders to consider: San Diego State over Tennessee; Georgia Tech over OK State, UTEP over Butler; Murray State over Vandy, Siena over Purdue and Old Dominion over Notre Dame.
Final Fantasy: Indianapolis gets a bunch of chalk: Kansas, Syracuse, Duke and West Virginia.
The Envelope, Please: Kansas isn’t a juggernaut, but it has too much (size, shooting, experience, toughness) for this crop. Bill Self enhances his legend with his second title, beating Duke in the finale, 81-79.
Lucky You: The last couple years have featured some ugliness for El Hombre in the bracket department. But he feels 2010 will be different. (Hah!) Without further ado, here is his entire bracket – from here on known as The Answer Key – broken down according to each round’s winners.
Round One: Kansas, Northern Iowa, Michigan State, Maryland, San Diego State, Georgetown, Georgia Tech, Ohio State, Syracuse, Gonzaga, UTEP, Murray State, Xavier, Pittsburgh, Brigham Young, Kansas State, Kentucky, Texas, Temple, Wisconsin, Marquette, New Mexico, Clemson, West Virginia, Duke, Louisville, Texas A&M, Siena, Old Dominion, Baylor, Richmond, Villanova.
Second Round: Kansas, Michigan State, Georgetown, Ohio State, Syracuse, UTEP, Pittsburgh, BYU, Kentucky, Temple, Marquette, West Virginia, Duke, Siena, Baylor, Villanova.
Sweet Sixteen: Kansas, Georgetown, Syracuse, BYU, Kentucky, West Virginia, Duke, Villanova.
Elite Eight: Kansas, Syracuse, West Virginia, Duke.
Final Four: Kansas, Duke.
Championship: Kansas.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Looks like Texas Rangers manager Ron Washington hopped into the Hot Tub Time Machine and went back to the ‘80s last season. Hey, lots of people in pro sports are smoking pot. And don’t even start on the painkillers and P.E.D.s. But coke? Yo, Ron, you have to update your recreational drug profile…If anybody not named Tim Tebow were tossing wobbly out patterns, throwing while backpedaling or taking nine seconds to release the ball, he would be lucky to get drafted at all. But some NFL team is going to choose him in the first three (two?) rounds and hope that he develops into a legitimate starter. Keep hoping…NBA owners unanimously approved Michael Jordan’s bid to take over the Charlotte Bobcats. Why wouldn’t they? Given Jordan’s track record of picking talent (Kwame Brown, Adam Morrison) and not showing up for work, he’s the perfect adversary…NFL owners are trying to decide whether they want to change the rules of overtime for playoff games. Look out for a compromise solution that includes eight-on-eight football after regulation, and if there is still a tie, a field goal kicking contest involving offensive linemen. Now that sounds like fun.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? After sitting out the big-money part of the NFL’s free agency shuffle, the Eagles have become quite busy in the past week, giving those fans and media analysts who are trying to figure out the team’s QB plans plenty to think about. The most obvious thing about the team’s intentions is that youth remains a priority, so even if Number Five is under center for the 2010 season, he likely won’t be back in ’11. With Seattle’s overspending for Charlie Whitehurst – what a great time to be a Seahawks’ season-ticket holder – the Browns picking up Jake Delhomme and Seneca Wallace (blechhh!), the Rams looking pretty darn interested in Sam Bradford, the Cardinals’ signing Derek Anderson to join the QB derby with Hot Tub Leinart, and Cowboy Quarterback’s role in the recruitment of LaDainian Tomlinson presaging a return to the Vikings, the market for Birds’ QBs looks smaller and smaller. Maybe the Bills might be interested. The Panthers are a possibility, although they’re on the hook for $13 mil to Delhomme. Jacksonville could be a destination, although David Garrard did throw for nearly 3,600 yards last year. The upshot? Expect Number Five and Kevin Kolb to be in midnight green next season, with Courageous Cat the likeliest QB to be moved.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Now that Eldrick Woods has rejoined golf’s living, it’s important to know that he is all about golf. His people are going to keep spinning his rehab and his remorse, but this is about his ability to play golf, make money and get back into the promotional world that made him so wealthy. The best thing any of us can do is forget about Woods the man, because no amount of Ari Fleisher-generated pap can bring back the carefully-crafted image we were fed for the first part of Woods’ life. From here on out, it’s about golf, and that’s not the worst thing in the world, so long as the coming months and years don’t “heal the wounds” and yield “forgiveness from the American people.” Baloney. Woods is a golfer. That’s all he is and all he should be. The run-up to his Masters appearance shows how strong the cult of personality surrounding him is, but here’s hoping fans wise up and focus only on whether he parred 17 and not on who Woods is. We already know that, and it’s not very pretty.
-EH-
No matter how poor a job the NC2A’s esteemed Rejection Committee did assembling this year’s bracket, watching the increasing love affair between tournament organizers and big-conference schools will certainly be more entertaining than suffering through the coming three weeks of manufactured drama surrounding Eldrick Woods’ return to golf. Could there be any storm capable of more damage than Woods’ decision to end his sackcloth-and-ashes tour at The Masters, which will be televised by espn and then CBS, the two networks most capable of slathering an event, athlete or coach in enough treacle to clog even the most efficient sewage system?
As sports fans prepare to have their brackets torn apart by underachieving high seeds and dastardly upstarts, espn is auditioning a battalion of string quartets for its melodramatic pre-tourney package, while Jim Nantz is rehearsing scads of catch phrases and hosannas to intone at properly reverential moments. And in Augusta, Gestapo-like security forces are preparing holding cells and sharpening their bayonets in anticipation of pouncing on any spectator brazen enough to regard Woods with anything other than awe and wonder. Forget waterboarding. Anyone caught so much as smirking at Woods will be made to listen to one of Augusta National’s oldest members recount stroke-by-stroke memories of his most recent rounds. Next to that, bamboo shoots under the fingernails is like a dinner date with Amanda Seyfried.
The best way to ward off the intense nausea this period is sure to induce (syrup of ipecac has nothing on this stuff) is to direct your attention at something else. Fortunately for sports fans, there is the NC2A tournament, which for all its faults, remains quite the spectacle, if only because Dookie V isn’t able to broadcast any games. That wonderful circumstance, however, that could well change in the coming dark times. Then again, it might be better if espn gets the broadcast rights to the tourney, because maybe it won’t decide to show 76% of the nation that compelling tilt between Duke and Arkansas-Peanut Butter. (Credit El Nino with that one.) Anyway, with the round of 65 already pared by one – thanks for stopping by, Winthrop – courtesy of the infernal play-in game that robs one school of the true tourney experience (once again, the little guy takes one in the shorts) it’s time to look at the best thing about March, aside from green beer, and make a few declarations.
Justice Deferred: Temple was hosed. The three-time Atlantic 10 champion finished 11-1, captured its conference’s regular-season and tourney titles, finished eighth in the RPI and beat Villanova by 10 points, but it received a five seed and the chance to play strong Ivy winner Cornell, which is better than the 12 seed it received. The Midwest bracket is too strong, especially since Kansas, the number one overall seed, is in it. Sure, the Jayhawks only have to play one of the other big boys (Ohio State and Georgetown) in the bracket, but their presence almost guarantees a tough finale for KU. West Virginia should have been treated more fairly. The Mountaineers didn’t necessarily deserve a number one seed, although WVU finished fourth in the RPI, had the nation’s third-toughest schedule, won the Big East tournament and closed the season on an 8-1 roll. But WVU should have had the softest number two road, against Duke, rather than Kentucky. Just what we need, more bile for Bob Huggins.
Mid-Major Slap-Around: Temple and Cornell weren’t the only mid-majors to get abused. Consider Butler and UTEP. Both could win a couple tourney games, but they are paired against each other, the better to guarantee the elimination of a non-BCS tough guy early on. Same goes for UNLV and Northern Iowa. Old Dominion was 27th in the final RPI, beat Georgetown in D.C. and is seeded 11th. Utah State is a 12, despite a 26-7 record, a win over BYU and a season-ending 17-1 run. Here’s hoping all the little guys win big. Won’t it be interesting to hear the Deflection Committee try to explain that?
Small Names, Big Games: There is a reason teams like Yosemite Sam Houston State and St. Mary’s win their conferences: They have guys who can play. As you peruse the early rounds of the tourney, be sure to check out SHS’s three-point specialist Corey Allmond, who hit 11 triples at Kentucky. Gonzaga fans can’t stand St. Mary’s 6-11 senior Omar Samhan, but his 20.9 ppg and 11.0 rpg have sure endeared him to the Gael faithful. Wofford’s Noah Dahlman (16.8 ppg) is a force along the front line, and Montana’s Anthony Johnson is one of the nation’s most accurate backcourt shooters. Pay attention every time New Mexico State guard Jahmar Young gets the rock, because he may be scoring in a couple seconds, and be alert whenever Utah State forward Tai Wesley is on the court, because few can fill a stat sheet like him.
Soo-Prise! You know there are going to be upsets. It happens all the time. So here are some first-rounders to consider: San Diego State over Tennessee; Georgia Tech over OK State, UTEP over Butler; Murray State over Vandy, Siena over Purdue and Old Dominion over Notre Dame.
Final Fantasy: Indianapolis gets a bunch of chalk: Kansas, Syracuse, Duke and West Virginia.
The Envelope, Please: Kansas isn’t a juggernaut, but it has too much (size, shooting, experience, toughness) for this crop. Bill Self enhances his legend with his second title, beating Duke in the finale, 81-79.
Lucky You: The last couple years have featured some ugliness for El Hombre in the bracket department. But he feels 2010 will be different. (Hah!) Without further ado, here is his entire bracket – from here on known as The Answer Key – broken down according to each round’s winners.
Round One: Kansas, Northern Iowa, Michigan State, Maryland, San Diego State, Georgetown, Georgia Tech, Ohio State, Syracuse, Gonzaga, UTEP, Murray State, Xavier, Pittsburgh, Brigham Young, Kansas State, Kentucky, Texas, Temple, Wisconsin, Marquette, New Mexico, Clemson, West Virginia, Duke, Louisville, Texas A&M, Siena, Old Dominion, Baylor, Richmond, Villanova.
Second Round: Kansas, Michigan State, Georgetown, Ohio State, Syracuse, UTEP, Pittsburgh, BYU, Kentucky, Temple, Marquette, West Virginia, Duke, Siena, Baylor, Villanova.
Sweet Sixteen: Kansas, Georgetown, Syracuse, BYU, Kentucky, West Virginia, Duke, Villanova.
Elite Eight: Kansas, Syracuse, West Virginia, Duke.
Final Four: Kansas, Duke.
Championship: Kansas.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Looks like Texas Rangers manager Ron Washington hopped into the Hot Tub Time Machine and went back to the ‘80s last season. Hey, lots of people in pro sports are smoking pot. And don’t even start on the painkillers and P.E.D.s. But coke? Yo, Ron, you have to update your recreational drug profile…If anybody not named Tim Tebow were tossing wobbly out patterns, throwing while backpedaling or taking nine seconds to release the ball, he would be lucky to get drafted at all. But some NFL team is going to choose him in the first three (two?) rounds and hope that he develops into a legitimate starter. Keep hoping…NBA owners unanimously approved Michael Jordan’s bid to take over the Charlotte Bobcats. Why wouldn’t they? Given Jordan’s track record of picking talent (Kwame Brown, Adam Morrison) and not showing up for work, he’s the perfect adversary…NFL owners are trying to decide whether they want to change the rules of overtime for playoff games. Look out for a compromise solution that includes eight-on-eight football after regulation, and if there is still a tie, a field goal kicking contest involving offensive linemen. Now that sounds like fun.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? After sitting out the big-money part of the NFL’s free agency shuffle, the Eagles have become quite busy in the past week, giving those fans and media analysts who are trying to figure out the team’s QB plans plenty to think about. The most obvious thing about the team’s intentions is that youth remains a priority, so even if Number Five is under center for the 2010 season, he likely won’t be back in ’11. With Seattle’s overspending for Charlie Whitehurst – what a great time to be a Seahawks’ season-ticket holder – the Browns picking up Jake Delhomme and Seneca Wallace (blechhh!), the Rams looking pretty darn interested in Sam Bradford, the Cardinals’ signing Derek Anderson to join the QB derby with Hot Tub Leinart, and Cowboy Quarterback’s role in the recruitment of LaDainian Tomlinson presaging a return to the Vikings, the market for Birds’ QBs looks smaller and smaller. Maybe the Bills might be interested. The Panthers are a possibility, although they’re on the hook for $13 mil to Delhomme. Jacksonville could be a destination, although David Garrard did throw for nearly 3,600 yards last year. The upshot? Expect Number Five and Kevin Kolb to be in midnight green next season, with Courageous Cat the likeliest QB to be moved.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Now that Eldrick Woods has rejoined golf’s living, it’s important to know that he is all about golf. His people are going to keep spinning his rehab and his remorse, but this is about his ability to play golf, make money and get back into the promotional world that made him so wealthy. The best thing any of us can do is forget about Woods the man, because no amount of Ari Fleisher-generated pap can bring back the carefully-crafted image we were fed for the first part of Woods’ life. From here on out, it’s about golf, and that’s not the worst thing in the world, so long as the coming months and years don’t “heal the wounds” and yield “forgiveness from the American people.” Baloney. Woods is a golfer. That’s all he is and all he should be. The run-up to his Masters appearance shows how strong the cult of personality surrounding him is, but here’s hoping fans wise up and focus only on whether he parred 17 and not on who Woods is. We already know that, and it’s not very pretty.
-EH-
Friday, January 15, 2010
There's No Crying In Baseball, Mark
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
The big winner in Mark McGwire’s recent media tour in support of his new contrition over a decade of steroid use is Kleenex, because every time he speaks these days, the tears tend to flow. If we didn’t know Big Mac had hired former Bush press secretary Ari Fleisher to be his Big Flak, one would think he had stolen a page from the Dick Vermeil Drama Handbook. McGwire has produced so much saline solution in the past couple days, officials in Kazakhstan have proposed using him to help replenish the shrinking Aral Sea.
Give McGwire credit for one thing: Unlike other members of baseball’s Shameless Generation, he at least admitted to using the stuff more than once or twice (Andy Pettitte) or accidentally (Balco Bonds). There was no talk of flaxseed oil or B-12 shots. No irresponsible dentists or “personal health issues.” McGwire juiced, and he admits it. For that, he deserves a gold star.
But like his fellow drug cheats, McGwire qualifies his apology, and that’s where all the goodwill begins to stagnate like spilled can of Blatz souring in the searing summer sun. He claims his 10 years of abuse were not designed to improve his play, even though the label on the box he got at Steroids R Us clearly stated that the product was a “performance enhancing drug.” Nope, McGwire was merely using the stuff (for some reason, he can’t remember the name of the substance, despite a decade of use) to stay healthy and remain in the lineup. Everything else came straight off the shelves at God, Inc.
The technical term for this type of elusive behavior is “steaming pile of crap,” but to a layman, McGwire is simply rationalizing his actions and trying to get us to buy into the sham. Forget that his home runs per at-bat dropped from 14.0 to 8.4 during his peaking juicing – a 40% decrease. Forget that he wouldn’t have come near his final total of 583 dingers without the drugs. And forget that it was ultimately the steroids that ended his career by contributing to classic P.E.D. injuries in his back and knees. (Parents, feel free to use this last one with the kids as a textbook definition of irony. Or, you can stick with the Tiger-Woods-getting-smacked-by-a-golf-club example.)
McGwire juiced to hit more home runs. To hit longer home runs. They may have helped him stay healthy, but their primary result was to allow him to craft a mammoth, sculpted frame with more power, speed and endurance. He sure could hit the ball before the juice, but he hit it further, more frequently and with more jaw-dropping majesty once he started abusing drugs. The resulting 135 taters in 1998-99 were to be his ticket to immortality. Now, they are black marks in a baseball record book that has less and less credibility and the smoking guns in a career that was a product of cheating.
By copping to steroid use, McGwire is hoping to ease his return to the game as a hitting coach for the Cardinals. That will probably work, especially since Cards’ manager Tony LaRussa is leading the cheers for his return – and erasing any last bits of credibility he has by claiming he knew nothing about McGwire’s steroid abuse until the slugger called him earlier this week to confess. That makes LaRussa the only person in America who didn’t act like Captain Renault upon hearing McGwire’s “revelation.” But let’s hope those who vote for the Hall of Fame aren’t snowed by the well-crafted act of contrition, no matter how much the slugger paid for it. McGwire’s success is directly related to continued, deliberate steroid use. He wouldn’t have thrived as he did without the drugs, so his candidacy for immortality should not even be considered. He said he was sorry, and that’s a good step. He also said he wished he had never played in the “Steroid Era.” Maybe he should have thought of that before he started sticking needles in his butt – or having Jose Canseco do it for him.
Speaking of Canseco, is anybody ever going to get tired of seeing the guy proven right? So far, he’s like Rocky Marciano – undefeated and untied. The guy is a bit of a crackpot (okay, he’s a big crackpot), but he has been right on about steroids. It’s a wonder baseball invertebrate Bud Sellout hasn’t put a contract out on the guy yet. The baseball that conked Canseco on the head before flying out of the park may have knocked him a little loopy, but he speaks the truth about the juice, and if he says he and McGwire had a little needle party in the clubhouse shower, then it happened. Period.
Canseco isn’t trying to get a job in Majoke League Baseball. He has no shot at the Hall of Fame, either. McGwire, on the other hand, has one and wants the other. His well-rehearsed apology might keep him in a Cardinals uniform, but in no way should it punch his ticket to Cooperstown. He didn’t tell the complete truth, and even if he did, the fact that he used steroids for a decade should serve as a ringing indictment against his candidacy. Let’s hope the Hall of Fame voters don’t soften up like the audience at a romantic comedy and admit McGwire to baseball’s Valhalla. Be vigilant, folks, and realize a cheat and manipulator when you see one.
Oh, and someone get McGwire a tissue. It looks like he’s crying. Again.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Giants Stadium is being sold, piece-by-piece. Fans can buy seats, turf and locker room items. No word on how much Jimmy Hoffa will cost…New England has cut ties with defensive coordinator Dean Pees, bringing his career with the Pats to a close and rendering unemployed the only NFL coach whose name is a full sentence…NBC is planning 835 hours of Olympics coverage, with only 820 of those devoted to figure skating. Talk about a classic case of biathlonism…With the NBA trading deadline looming next month, the rumor mill has started its annual churn. The most interesting name being mentioned is Tracy McGrady, the oft-injured, highly overrated Houston forward who has never won a playoff series. The best part of dealing for Me-Mac is that his bloated contract (about $21 mil) expires after this season, so it will be possible to chase some of the top free agents in this summer’s robust class. Talk about a big fall from grace. Once considered a star, Me-Mac is only coveted for his expiring contract. A cautionary tale? Nahhh. Today’s money-grubbing players don’t care, so long as they get paid.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Now that the Eagles’ season is over, the frustrated fans (you mean there are some who aren’t frustrated?) are looking for scapegoats. Instead of realizing the team just wasn’t good enough (crappy O-line, insufficient edge pass rushing, weak LBs, poor safeties) to beat Dallas, the fans’ consensus is that Donovan McNabb is responsible. He did not play well against Dallas either time in January; that’s for sure. Is he the main problem on the team? Not by a long shot. That title goes to GM Andy Reid. (As opposed to coach Andy Reid.) So, let’s get rid of him. Really. Eagles fans are so ready to have Kevin Kolb under center, so deal McNabb. The team will be doing him a favor. Ever since the blowhard from Rhode Island – via Columbia and the beach block in Sea Isle – brought a bunch of sots to New York to boo McNabb, the town has been against him. So, set him free, play Kolb and bask in the glory of 8-8 and 7-9 records. But, hey, at least there will be a change. And that’s what Eagles fans crave. Meanwhile, let’s see what McNabb can do with a legitimate commitment to the run and a good defense. The guess here is that it will be plenty.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Now for a quick word on Pete Carroll and Lane Kiffin. It’s time to stop lionizing these big-time coaches as builders of character and great molders of men. They are self-absorbed competition freaks who care about their careers first. (Second and third, too.) Any player who signs on to play for one of them had better be smart enough to understand that his best interests are nowhere near the top of these coaches’ lists of priorities. Kiffin’s decision to bolt Tennessee after one season reveals his true character. How long until he leaves Troy? If he tried to convince UT conscripts to follow him to SoCal, he should be penalized harshly by the NC2A. As for Carroll, he rebuffed one NFL entreaty after another before finally settling on Seattle. Hmmmm. That couldn’t have anything to do with the pending NC2A investigation into improper benefits received by former Trojan players, could it? Nahhh. Pete just wanted to get some good coffee and experience 275 days of rain every year. Right. One thing is certain: Kiffin certainly learned well during his time under Carroll. If you can root for ‘SC or the Seahawks, you have a strong stomach.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Now for the picks. The “good” news is that El Hombre went 2-2 against the spread (thank you, Ravens and Cowboys) last week. The ugliness comes from the 1-3 money-line performance. It’s time to get healthy.
SATURDAY:
Arizona (plus 7) over New Orleans: The Old Man has it cooking like he did back in the Arena Football League days, and the Cards don’t seem to mind how many points the other team scores. The Saints stumbled home during the regular season but should outscore the Cards in a thriller. New Orleans 41, Arizona 38.
Baltimore (plus 6 ½) over Indianapolis. The Ravens looked great pillaging the crippled Pats last week, but Indy is another story. Baltimore QB Joe Flacco isn’t playing well enough to hold up his end on offense, and MVP Peyton Manning is rested and ready to work his magic. It will be close, but Indy breaks its streak of losing playoff openers after bye weeks. Indianapolis 20, Baltimore 16.
SUNDAY:
Dallas (plus 3) over Minnesota. I don’t care if Brett Favre is undefeated in the Big Mall this season, because Dallas is the NFC’s best team. After an afternoon of Cowboy pressure, Favre might just throw a punch at coach Brad Childress. Expect this year’s teary-eyed retirement press conference on Tuesday. Dallas 24, Minnesota 17.
San Diego (minus 7 ½) over New York. Okay, so El Hombre was wrong about the Jets last week, although it would have been nice if Cincinnati had shown just a little guts before lying down. But the Jets won’t make it two straight, not against the NFL’s hottest team. Phillip Rivers takes another step toward elite status with a convincing performance. San Diego 23, New York 10.
-EH-
The big winner in Mark McGwire’s recent media tour in support of his new contrition over a decade of steroid use is Kleenex, because every time he speaks these days, the tears tend to flow. If we didn’t know Big Mac had hired former Bush press secretary Ari Fleisher to be his Big Flak, one would think he had stolen a page from the Dick Vermeil Drama Handbook. McGwire has produced so much saline solution in the past couple days, officials in Kazakhstan have proposed using him to help replenish the shrinking Aral Sea.
Give McGwire credit for one thing: Unlike other members of baseball’s Shameless Generation, he at least admitted to using the stuff more than once or twice (Andy Pettitte) or accidentally (Balco Bonds). There was no talk of flaxseed oil or B-12 shots. No irresponsible dentists or “personal health issues.” McGwire juiced, and he admits it. For that, he deserves a gold star.
But like his fellow drug cheats, McGwire qualifies his apology, and that’s where all the goodwill begins to stagnate like spilled can of Blatz souring in the searing summer sun. He claims his 10 years of abuse were not designed to improve his play, even though the label on the box he got at Steroids R Us clearly stated that the product was a “performance enhancing drug.” Nope, McGwire was merely using the stuff (for some reason, he can’t remember the name of the substance, despite a decade of use) to stay healthy and remain in the lineup. Everything else came straight off the shelves at God, Inc.
The technical term for this type of elusive behavior is “steaming pile of crap,” but to a layman, McGwire is simply rationalizing his actions and trying to get us to buy into the sham. Forget that his home runs per at-bat dropped from 14.0 to 8.4 during his peaking juicing – a 40% decrease. Forget that he wouldn’t have come near his final total of 583 dingers without the drugs. And forget that it was ultimately the steroids that ended his career by contributing to classic P.E.D. injuries in his back and knees. (Parents, feel free to use this last one with the kids as a textbook definition of irony. Or, you can stick with the Tiger-Woods-getting-smacked-by-a-golf-club example.)
McGwire juiced to hit more home runs. To hit longer home runs. They may have helped him stay healthy, but their primary result was to allow him to craft a mammoth, sculpted frame with more power, speed and endurance. He sure could hit the ball before the juice, but he hit it further, more frequently and with more jaw-dropping majesty once he started abusing drugs. The resulting 135 taters in 1998-99 were to be his ticket to immortality. Now, they are black marks in a baseball record book that has less and less credibility and the smoking guns in a career that was a product of cheating.
By copping to steroid use, McGwire is hoping to ease his return to the game as a hitting coach for the Cardinals. That will probably work, especially since Cards’ manager Tony LaRussa is leading the cheers for his return – and erasing any last bits of credibility he has by claiming he knew nothing about McGwire’s steroid abuse until the slugger called him earlier this week to confess. That makes LaRussa the only person in America who didn’t act like Captain Renault upon hearing McGwire’s “revelation.” But let’s hope those who vote for the Hall of Fame aren’t snowed by the well-crafted act of contrition, no matter how much the slugger paid for it. McGwire’s success is directly related to continued, deliberate steroid use. He wouldn’t have thrived as he did without the drugs, so his candidacy for immortality should not even be considered. He said he was sorry, and that’s a good step. He also said he wished he had never played in the “Steroid Era.” Maybe he should have thought of that before he started sticking needles in his butt – or having Jose Canseco do it for him.
Speaking of Canseco, is anybody ever going to get tired of seeing the guy proven right? So far, he’s like Rocky Marciano – undefeated and untied. The guy is a bit of a crackpot (okay, he’s a big crackpot), but he has been right on about steroids. It’s a wonder baseball invertebrate Bud Sellout hasn’t put a contract out on the guy yet. The baseball that conked Canseco on the head before flying out of the park may have knocked him a little loopy, but he speaks the truth about the juice, and if he says he and McGwire had a little needle party in the clubhouse shower, then it happened. Period.
Canseco isn’t trying to get a job in Majoke League Baseball. He has no shot at the Hall of Fame, either. McGwire, on the other hand, has one and wants the other. His well-rehearsed apology might keep him in a Cardinals uniform, but in no way should it punch his ticket to Cooperstown. He didn’t tell the complete truth, and even if he did, the fact that he used steroids for a decade should serve as a ringing indictment against his candidacy. Let’s hope the Hall of Fame voters don’t soften up like the audience at a romantic comedy and admit McGwire to baseball’s Valhalla. Be vigilant, folks, and realize a cheat and manipulator when you see one.
Oh, and someone get McGwire a tissue. It looks like he’s crying. Again.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Giants Stadium is being sold, piece-by-piece. Fans can buy seats, turf and locker room items. No word on how much Jimmy Hoffa will cost…New England has cut ties with defensive coordinator Dean Pees, bringing his career with the Pats to a close and rendering unemployed the only NFL coach whose name is a full sentence…NBC is planning 835 hours of Olympics coverage, with only 820 of those devoted to figure skating. Talk about a classic case of biathlonism…With the NBA trading deadline looming next month, the rumor mill has started its annual churn. The most interesting name being mentioned is Tracy McGrady, the oft-injured, highly overrated Houston forward who has never won a playoff series. The best part of dealing for Me-Mac is that his bloated contract (about $21 mil) expires after this season, so it will be possible to chase some of the top free agents in this summer’s robust class. Talk about a big fall from grace. Once considered a star, Me-Mac is only coveted for his expiring contract. A cautionary tale? Nahhh. Today’s money-grubbing players don’t care, so long as they get paid.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Now that the Eagles’ season is over, the frustrated fans (you mean there are some who aren’t frustrated?) are looking for scapegoats. Instead of realizing the team just wasn’t good enough (crappy O-line, insufficient edge pass rushing, weak LBs, poor safeties) to beat Dallas, the fans’ consensus is that Donovan McNabb is responsible. He did not play well against Dallas either time in January; that’s for sure. Is he the main problem on the team? Not by a long shot. That title goes to GM Andy Reid. (As opposed to coach Andy Reid.) So, let’s get rid of him. Really. Eagles fans are so ready to have Kevin Kolb under center, so deal McNabb. The team will be doing him a favor. Ever since the blowhard from Rhode Island – via Columbia and the beach block in Sea Isle – brought a bunch of sots to New York to boo McNabb, the town has been against him. So, set him free, play Kolb and bask in the glory of 8-8 and 7-9 records. But, hey, at least there will be a change. And that’s what Eagles fans crave. Meanwhile, let’s see what McNabb can do with a legitimate commitment to the run and a good defense. The guess here is that it will be plenty.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Now for a quick word on Pete Carroll and Lane Kiffin. It’s time to stop lionizing these big-time coaches as builders of character and great molders of men. They are self-absorbed competition freaks who care about their careers first. (Second and third, too.) Any player who signs on to play for one of them had better be smart enough to understand that his best interests are nowhere near the top of these coaches’ lists of priorities. Kiffin’s decision to bolt Tennessee after one season reveals his true character. How long until he leaves Troy? If he tried to convince UT conscripts to follow him to SoCal, he should be penalized harshly by the NC2A. As for Carroll, he rebuffed one NFL entreaty after another before finally settling on Seattle. Hmmmm. That couldn’t have anything to do with the pending NC2A investigation into improper benefits received by former Trojan players, could it? Nahhh. Pete just wanted to get some good coffee and experience 275 days of rain every year. Right. One thing is certain: Kiffin certainly learned well during his time under Carroll. If you can root for ‘SC or the Seahawks, you have a strong stomach.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Now for the picks. The “good” news is that El Hombre went 2-2 against the spread (thank you, Ravens and Cowboys) last week. The ugliness comes from the 1-3 money-line performance. It’s time to get healthy.
SATURDAY:
Arizona (plus 7) over New Orleans: The Old Man has it cooking like he did back in the Arena Football League days, and the Cards don’t seem to mind how many points the other team scores. The Saints stumbled home during the regular season but should outscore the Cards in a thriller. New Orleans 41, Arizona 38.
Baltimore (plus 6 ½) over Indianapolis. The Ravens looked great pillaging the crippled Pats last week, but Indy is another story. Baltimore QB Joe Flacco isn’t playing well enough to hold up his end on offense, and MVP Peyton Manning is rested and ready to work his magic. It will be close, but Indy breaks its streak of losing playoff openers after bye weeks. Indianapolis 20, Baltimore 16.
SUNDAY:
Dallas (plus 3) over Minnesota. I don’t care if Brett Favre is undefeated in the Big Mall this season, because Dallas is the NFC’s best team. After an afternoon of Cowboy pressure, Favre might just throw a punch at coach Brad Childress. Expect this year’s teary-eyed retirement press conference on Tuesday. Dallas 24, Minnesota 17.
San Diego (minus 7 ½) over New York. Okay, so El Hombre was wrong about the Jets last week, although it would have been nice if Cincinnati had shown just a little guts before lying down. But the Jets won’t make it two straight, not against the NFL’s hottest team. Phillip Rivers takes another step toward elite status with a convincing performance. San Diego 23, New York 10.
-EH-
Friday, January 8, 2010
Keep the Carnage Coming
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
You have to love the NFL. The same league that has spent the past several years doing its best to tell us there is no link between repeated shots to the head by angry 300-pounders and future brain damage is now hoping to entice coaches to keep players in harm’s way during late-season contests, even if their teams have absolutely nothing to gain from the games. Seems the league is worried about the product on the field and giving fans the best value for their ticket dollar. Well, tell all that to Wes Welker and the Patriots.
For those of you who don’t arrange their lives around the NFL – and if you don’t, the league’s assassins will find you – Welker tore two knee ligaments (Good news! He still has one intact) Sunday in the Pats’ finale, which meant as much to New England as gun control legislation does to Gilbert Arenas. (More on that chowderhead later.) Now New England will enter the post-season without its top receiver (Don’t even try to give El Hombre Randy Moss), and Welker has the very real possibility of spending the remainder of his career as a shadow of his former self. But, hey, at least the fans got to see the first-stringers! Right. See how that plays during the post-season as the Pats try to win a Super Bowl without a stalwart.
This whole thing began because Colts’ coach Jim Caldwell decided it was a good idea to keep Peyton Manning away from the Jets’ pass rush, which resembles an angry beehive. By doing that, he surrendered the chance to “make history” by going 19-0. What he was really doing was preserving the most important single asset in the league and assuring the Colts that they won’t have to see backup QB Matt Painter do anything during the post-season except warm up. And even that is frightening for Indy fans.
Anybody who watched Texas fall apart in the wake of QB Colt McCoy’s injury Thursday night knows what can happen to a contender when it loses its top player. The Longhorns eventually rallied and showed some heart, but they didn’t have enough to beat Alabama. Without Manning, the Colts don’t win a playoff game. No way.
Caldwell’s decision was roundly criticized by the “historians” who analyze the NFL’s every heartbeat. By resting Manning, even though the Colts had a five-point third-quarter lead when the quarterback sat down, Caldwell was forfeiting a chance at immortality. Had Manning’s knee been turned to oatmeal by a blitzing linebacker, Caldwell would have been torn apart for exposing the QB to marauding defenders, in the name of self-aggrandizement. In other words, it was an untenable position, and Caldwell made the choice he thought would give his team the best chance to win a Super Bowl title. (Again, have you seen Matt Painter play?)
In the coming weeks and months, we’ll hear all sorts of things designed to guard the league’s image and give the fans their “money’s worth.” Commissioner Roger Goodell might offer up extra draft picks to teams who have already clinched playoff berths or secured seeding positions that nonetheless continue to expose their stars to maiming. At the same time, Goodell will be trying to goad the union into adding another one or two games to an already-bloated regular season schedule, injuries and future damage be damned. If there is a revenue stream available, you can bet the NFL will mine it until every last crumb of gold is found.
Of course, no one will say anything about protecting the players, who endure multiple 10-car pileups every week. Sounds about right for the league that still tries to convince us that repeated shots to the melon have no long-term effect. Maybe those making the decisions in New York have absorbed a few of those themselves. They still know how to count the money, though. That always seems to be a possibility in the NFL.
Now for the moment you have waited for: This week’s picks.
Cincinnati (minus-2 ½) over New York. Chad Ochocrazy was shut down last week in the Meadowlands. It’s not happening again. New York coach Rex Ryan thinks his team is the Super Bowl favorite. He should remember that his pop, Buddy, never won a playoff game. It might run in the family. Bengals 24, Jets 14.
Dallas (minus-4) over Philadelphia. Say what you want about how hard it is to beat a team three times in the season. That only holds when the opponent has something going for it. The Eagles O-line is a mess, and its linebacking corps needs federal disaster relief. Cowboys 23, Eagles 16.
Baltimore (plus-3 ½) over New England. The Raven ground attack looks great, and the Baltimore defense is nasty once again. The Patriots will certainly miss Welker, and even if they win, it won’t be by much. Patriots 21, Ravens 20.
Green Bay (plus 2 ½) over Arizona. Last year, the Cardinals came alive in the post-season and shocked everybody. That was then. Packers QB Aaron Rodgers is ready for his coming-out party, and Green Bay has a nasty D. Packers 27, Cardinals 14.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Tiger Woods appears shirtless and buffed on the cover of the recent Vanity Fair, a photo taken before his Skanko-Roman wrestling ways were revealed. Wonder if he plans to use the picture to attract chicks?...If Mike Leach did half of what he is accused of at Texas Tech, his firing was warranted, no matter how annoying the kid was. You can’t treat players like that, especially those whose daddies are espn broadcasters. Next time, lock the son of Mr. & Mrs. Nobody from Busted Boil, TX, in an equipment shed. Then again, given Leach’s love of pirates, it’s a wonder he didn’t make the young man walk the plank…Los Angeles Clippers broadcaster Michael Smith is accused of bilking a golfing buddy out of a cool $735,000 by convincing him to use his home as collateral for a loan on a development deal that went bad. The news isn’t all awful for the team, since given its oft-shaky defense, it’s good that somebody associated with the Clippers might be trying to steal something…There are reports that a “friendly” match between the U.S. and Mexican national soccer teams in Pasadena has been scrubbed over a dispute between Telemundo and Univision, each of which want to televise the game. But that’s only part of it. The real problem came when Rose Bowl officials mandated that Mexican fans could only bring in three bags of urine apiece to throw at the American players. Mexican fans wanted to bring nine…If Wizards guard Gilbert Arenas is suspended for a long period of time, he might just want to consider competing for a spot on the U.S. Olympic biathlon team. He could pair with teammate Javaris Crittenton, who might have some free time on his hands soon, too.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Admit it, you’re one of those Philadelphia fans who is secretly hoping the Eagles lose to Dallas Saturday, so the Donovan McNabb “era” can end. Or if you’re not, you know someone who is. You might get your wish, because the Birds don’t look like they have much hope at False Face’s pleasure dome, thanks to a defense that’s giving up points faster than espn can come out with new gimmicks (a 3-D channel?) and an offensive line that has the same cohesion as Charlie Sheen’s marriage. Those two were huge culprits in last week’s loss to the Cowboys, but few chose to look at it that way. It was all McNabb’s fault. And if the Birds lose this weekend – or next, or the one after that – there will a huge cry for Number Five’s dismissal. Maybe the vultures get their wish granted, and if they do, they had better be careful, because Kevin Kolb isn’t necessarily the answer, and teams without good QBs (see Bears, Chicago, among others) don’t win the Super Bowl and get a “prade” for “long-suffering” fans.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: NBA commissioner Uncle David Stern did the right thing by taking Arenas out of action, and he should not be swayed by the meathead’s recent remorseful statements regarding his gun shenanigans when deciding his ultimate punishment. Arenas still doesn’t think he did anything wrong, and that’s despicable. Stern should hammer Arenas hard by removing him from action for the rest of the year – without pay. And since attempting to void the rest of his contract would cause an uproar from the union, the next labor negotiations should establish clear penalties for those who bring firearms into a locker room or any other team-related area: minimum one-year suspensions and the end of their contracts. Stern needs to make examples of both Arenas and Wild West partner Javaris Crittenton, so the league reputation doesn’t revert to its 1970s version, when everybody thought the league was filled with renegades.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It is with a heavy heart that El Hombre reports the passing of a true American hero and a loyal EH reader, Bill “Bitsy” Grant, who succumbed to cancer Tuesday at the age of 85. Bill was a walking 20th century history book, having survived the Great Depression, World War II (Normandy landing, Battle of the Bulge, historic meeting with Soviet troops in Germany) and perhaps most demanding, raising eight children. A loyal Hawk who graduated from Saint Joseph’s thanks to his hard work, smarts and the G.I. Bill, Bill later became a successful advertising executive. Bill was a devout Catholic and searched until his last days for the answers to life’s tough questions, never once expressing his frustration at how elusive that pursuit was. He loved the Phillies, golf, mystery novels, anything to do with St. Joe’s and his family. It took no cajoling whatsoever to elicit a rousing rendition of “The Night Paddy Murphy Died” from him at family gatherings, and woe to anybody who was caught behind him at the dessert table. Bill was a gentleman, an exemplary father and grandfather and a great friend. He will be missed greatly.
-EH-
You have to love the NFL. The same league that has spent the past several years doing its best to tell us there is no link between repeated shots to the head by angry 300-pounders and future brain damage is now hoping to entice coaches to keep players in harm’s way during late-season contests, even if their teams have absolutely nothing to gain from the games. Seems the league is worried about the product on the field and giving fans the best value for their ticket dollar. Well, tell all that to Wes Welker and the Patriots.
For those of you who don’t arrange their lives around the NFL – and if you don’t, the league’s assassins will find you – Welker tore two knee ligaments (Good news! He still has one intact) Sunday in the Pats’ finale, which meant as much to New England as gun control legislation does to Gilbert Arenas. (More on that chowderhead later.) Now New England will enter the post-season without its top receiver (Don’t even try to give El Hombre Randy Moss), and Welker has the very real possibility of spending the remainder of his career as a shadow of his former self. But, hey, at least the fans got to see the first-stringers! Right. See how that plays during the post-season as the Pats try to win a Super Bowl without a stalwart.
This whole thing began because Colts’ coach Jim Caldwell decided it was a good idea to keep Peyton Manning away from the Jets’ pass rush, which resembles an angry beehive. By doing that, he surrendered the chance to “make history” by going 19-0. What he was really doing was preserving the most important single asset in the league and assuring the Colts that they won’t have to see backup QB Matt Painter do anything during the post-season except warm up. And even that is frightening for Indy fans.
Anybody who watched Texas fall apart in the wake of QB Colt McCoy’s injury Thursday night knows what can happen to a contender when it loses its top player. The Longhorns eventually rallied and showed some heart, but they didn’t have enough to beat Alabama. Without Manning, the Colts don’t win a playoff game. No way.
Caldwell’s decision was roundly criticized by the “historians” who analyze the NFL’s every heartbeat. By resting Manning, even though the Colts had a five-point third-quarter lead when the quarterback sat down, Caldwell was forfeiting a chance at immortality. Had Manning’s knee been turned to oatmeal by a blitzing linebacker, Caldwell would have been torn apart for exposing the QB to marauding defenders, in the name of self-aggrandizement. In other words, it was an untenable position, and Caldwell made the choice he thought would give his team the best chance to win a Super Bowl title. (Again, have you seen Matt Painter play?)
In the coming weeks and months, we’ll hear all sorts of things designed to guard the league’s image and give the fans their “money’s worth.” Commissioner Roger Goodell might offer up extra draft picks to teams who have already clinched playoff berths or secured seeding positions that nonetheless continue to expose their stars to maiming. At the same time, Goodell will be trying to goad the union into adding another one or two games to an already-bloated regular season schedule, injuries and future damage be damned. If there is a revenue stream available, you can bet the NFL will mine it until every last crumb of gold is found.
Of course, no one will say anything about protecting the players, who endure multiple 10-car pileups every week. Sounds about right for the league that still tries to convince us that repeated shots to the melon have no long-term effect. Maybe those making the decisions in New York have absorbed a few of those themselves. They still know how to count the money, though. That always seems to be a possibility in the NFL.
Now for the moment you have waited for: This week’s picks.
Cincinnati (minus-2 ½) over New York. Chad Ochocrazy was shut down last week in the Meadowlands. It’s not happening again. New York coach Rex Ryan thinks his team is the Super Bowl favorite. He should remember that his pop, Buddy, never won a playoff game. It might run in the family. Bengals 24, Jets 14.
Dallas (minus-4) over Philadelphia. Say what you want about how hard it is to beat a team three times in the season. That only holds when the opponent has something going for it. The Eagles O-line is a mess, and its linebacking corps needs federal disaster relief. Cowboys 23, Eagles 16.
Baltimore (plus-3 ½) over New England. The Raven ground attack looks great, and the Baltimore defense is nasty once again. The Patriots will certainly miss Welker, and even if they win, it won’t be by much. Patriots 21, Ravens 20.
Green Bay (plus 2 ½) over Arizona. Last year, the Cardinals came alive in the post-season and shocked everybody. That was then. Packers QB Aaron Rodgers is ready for his coming-out party, and Green Bay has a nasty D. Packers 27, Cardinals 14.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Tiger Woods appears shirtless and buffed on the cover of the recent Vanity Fair, a photo taken before his Skanko-Roman wrestling ways were revealed. Wonder if he plans to use the picture to attract chicks?...If Mike Leach did half of what he is accused of at Texas Tech, his firing was warranted, no matter how annoying the kid was. You can’t treat players like that, especially those whose daddies are espn broadcasters. Next time, lock the son of Mr. & Mrs. Nobody from Busted Boil, TX, in an equipment shed. Then again, given Leach’s love of pirates, it’s a wonder he didn’t make the young man walk the plank…Los Angeles Clippers broadcaster Michael Smith is accused of bilking a golfing buddy out of a cool $735,000 by convincing him to use his home as collateral for a loan on a development deal that went bad. The news isn’t all awful for the team, since given its oft-shaky defense, it’s good that somebody associated with the Clippers might be trying to steal something…There are reports that a “friendly” match between the U.S. and Mexican national soccer teams in Pasadena has been scrubbed over a dispute between Telemundo and Univision, each of which want to televise the game. But that’s only part of it. The real problem came when Rose Bowl officials mandated that Mexican fans could only bring in three bags of urine apiece to throw at the American players. Mexican fans wanted to bring nine…If Wizards guard Gilbert Arenas is suspended for a long period of time, he might just want to consider competing for a spot on the U.S. Olympic biathlon team. He could pair with teammate Javaris Crittenton, who might have some free time on his hands soon, too.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Admit it, you’re one of those Philadelphia fans who is secretly hoping the Eagles lose to Dallas Saturday, so the Donovan McNabb “era” can end. Or if you’re not, you know someone who is. You might get your wish, because the Birds don’t look like they have much hope at False Face’s pleasure dome, thanks to a defense that’s giving up points faster than espn can come out with new gimmicks (a 3-D channel?) and an offensive line that has the same cohesion as Charlie Sheen’s marriage. Those two were huge culprits in last week’s loss to the Cowboys, but few chose to look at it that way. It was all McNabb’s fault. And if the Birds lose this weekend – or next, or the one after that – there will a huge cry for Number Five’s dismissal. Maybe the vultures get their wish granted, and if they do, they had better be careful, because Kevin Kolb isn’t necessarily the answer, and teams without good QBs (see Bears, Chicago, among others) don’t win the Super Bowl and get a “prade” for “long-suffering” fans.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: NBA commissioner Uncle David Stern did the right thing by taking Arenas out of action, and he should not be swayed by the meathead’s recent remorseful statements regarding his gun shenanigans when deciding his ultimate punishment. Arenas still doesn’t think he did anything wrong, and that’s despicable. Stern should hammer Arenas hard by removing him from action for the rest of the year – without pay. And since attempting to void the rest of his contract would cause an uproar from the union, the next labor negotiations should establish clear penalties for those who bring firearms into a locker room or any other team-related area: minimum one-year suspensions and the end of their contracts. Stern needs to make examples of both Arenas and Wild West partner Javaris Crittenton, so the league reputation doesn’t revert to its 1970s version, when everybody thought the league was filled with renegades.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It is with a heavy heart that El Hombre reports the passing of a true American hero and a loyal EH reader, Bill “Bitsy” Grant, who succumbed to cancer Tuesday at the age of 85. Bill was a walking 20th century history book, having survived the Great Depression, World War II (Normandy landing, Battle of the Bulge, historic meeting with Soviet troops in Germany) and perhaps most demanding, raising eight children. A loyal Hawk who graduated from Saint Joseph’s thanks to his hard work, smarts and the G.I. Bill, Bill later became a successful advertising executive. Bill was a devout Catholic and searched until his last days for the answers to life’s tough questions, never once expressing his frustration at how elusive that pursuit was. He loved the Phillies, golf, mystery novels, anything to do with St. Joe’s and his family. It took no cajoling whatsoever to elicit a rousing rendition of “The Night Paddy Murphy Died” from him at family gatherings, and woe to anybody who was caught behind him at the dessert table. Bill was a gentleman, an exemplary father and grandfather and a great friend. He will be missed greatly.
-EH-
Friday, October 30, 2009
King Cole's Crossroads
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Last year this time, Cole Hamels could have walked into the office of Mayor Michael Nutter and demanded to be made dictator of Philadelphia, and Nutter would have had to comply. Hamels could have insisted city residents wear Cowboys jerseys, sing “Meet the Mets” as the recessional hymn at any church service in the area and replace the statue of William Penn atop City Hall with a bust of Terrell Owens, and no one would have argued. Such is the power of a World Series MVP.
What a difference a year makes.
Hamels may be the reigning World Series MVP, but his star has faded considerably in the eyes of Phillies fans, who approach his start in Game Three of the series against Big Brother with more than a mild sense of trepidation. In the interval between his outstanding performance last October against the Mephistopheles Rays and Saturday night at 7:57, Hamels has resembled only sporadically the dominant ace who propelled a team to its first world championship in 28 years. In fact, Hamels goes to the mound as the fourth or fifth-best starter, in many minds, on the Phillies, given his travails this season, which have included a lack of control, the inability to finish off good hitters, a drop in velocity, a propensity for reacting to small bursts of misfortune by throwing tantrums and losing focus and generally resembling a struggling young pitcher, rather than an established ace.
Instead of using last year’s prosperity to vault him among the game’s elite pitchers, Hamels has instead regressed. Some believe he is injured, and if that is the case, he deserves a huge benefit of the doubt for putting up more than 205 innings in a compromised state. But Hamels and the Phillies insist he is healthy, and given his history, that’s easy to believe, because Hamels has never been known for his high threshold of pain. No, this is likely something different – and more troubling. Hamels’ season has been characterized by bursts of strong pitching, interspersed with nightmarish sequences in which the runs pile up, sometimes both occurring in the same game. Worse, Hamels often reacts to these worrisome stretches by melting, rather than rallying. His most noteworthy bit of distemper came during the NLCS, when he stalked about the mound area after Chase Utley threw a ball past Ryan Howard that would have completed a double play. Hamels then punctuated the outburst by throwing his mitt in the dugout after the inning was completed.
Beyond the obvious inability to control his emotions, Hamels’ eruption demonstrates something more disturbing. Talented, confident athletes usually respond to misfortune by hunkering down and taking control. By acting out, Hamels betrayed a lack of self-assurance, as if he were acknowledging that he is working on a thin margin and anything unexpected could derail whatever progress he had accumulated. He wasn’t just petulant; he was insecure. That self-doubt is what has to concern Phillies fans more than anything else, and one must believe it’s why skipper Charlie Manuel chose to pitch Hamels against Microsoft at home, rather than in The House That Avarice Built. Hamels has thrown better in front of the Philadelphia crowd than he has on the road this season, and Manuel is doing everything he can to create an atmosphere conducive to a strong start.
It’s not like he hasn’t had some success this year. In five starts from Aug. 26 to Sept. 17, Hamels went 3-1 with a 1.45 ERA, struck out 38 and walked just seven. It was right out of the October, 2008 catalog, when Hamels went 4-0 in five starts, with an ERA of 1.80, 35 Ks and nine walks. And it reinforced that Hamels is likely not hurt. More than anything, he is lacking a guaranteed out pitch, and that is allowing hitters to wait him out on his strong, but not nightmarish, fastball.
Compounding the concern about Saturday’s game is Hamels’ mound opponent, Andrew EuHGHene Pettitte, who has pitched in more post-season games than any other hurler and who loves the big stage more than Elton John and Chad Ocholoco combined. You know Pettitte won’t care if the entire Citizens Bank Park crowd dresses up like giant syringes or Roger Clemens or giant syringes sticking out of Clemens’ calloused hindquarters. He will throw his six strong innings and move on.
Hamels, on the other hand, must match Pettitte or risk putting the Phillies in a hole. He certainly has the track record, but his post-season performance this season (1-1, 6.97 ERA) is hardly reason to believe he’ll rise to the occasion. Should Hamels unfurl a gem, he will regain his status as post-season stud, erase much of the stench of his previous work and perhaps earn the right to start Game Seven in the Bronx, should things advance that far. Struggle, or worse, fall apart, and he’ll enter the ’10 season required to answer questions about which was more indicative of his future: 2008’s dominance, or 2009’s uncertainty. In effect, his pitching Saturday night will re-establish him as the King of Philadelphia or just another pitcher with one shiny item on an otherwise mundane resume. No pressure, Cole. None at all.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Cleveland Browns fans have planned a “late arrival” protest for their team’s Nov. 16 Monday night game with the Ravens. They’re hoping a TV shot of a nearly-empty stadium will put pressure on ownership to fix some problems. Organizers can count on one group to support the cause: the players. They haven’t shown up all year…In his new autobiography, Andre Agassi details his dislike of tennis, his crystal meth use, his agonizing hair loss and his marriages to Brooke Shields and Steffi Graf. In a related story, Pete Sampras is planning a book that will discuss life without a personality…The NC2A’s decision to suspend Oklahoma State wideout Dez Bryant for a year was another example of the organization’s continued war against student-athletes. Yes, Bryant lied about his meeting with Deion Sanders, but the NC2A’s discipline proved why he did it. Bryant was afraid he’d get smacked down for telling the truth. While schools spend money like crazy and prostitute themselves to corporations for a buck, the NC2A looks away. Meanwhile, a college kid works out with a former pro, and he is banished. Disgusting…Great news for all of you who believed syrup of ipecac was a little too powerful as a vomit-inducing agent. Fox is putting a camera on Cowboy Quarterback for Sunday’s entire Packers-Vikings game. Watching just a few minutes of that should inspire nausea sufficient to expel any toxin or poison that has invaded a person’s body.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Eagles’ uninspiring 27-17 win over the lousy Redskins last Monday showed just how far the team has to go before it can be considered anything more than a wild-card contender. The Birds’ offense is a mess, especially if Brian Westbrook’s concussion keeps him out of this week’s game (it should), not that coach Andy Reid uses him all that much. Injuries along the offensive front have been a problem, and that much is out of Reid’s control. But the play-calling, the incessant use of the “Wildcat” formation to no productive end and an unwillingness to commit to the run have conspired to strip the offense of a personality. Right now, it seems as if Reid is trying to make every play a big play, rather than creating a rhythm that allows for consistent movement and production. Some of the blame has to be directed at QB Donovan McNabb, whose completion percentage (57.3%) would be the second-lowest of his career, not counting his rookie season. But for the most part, the blame lies with Reid, who looks like someone trying to show everybody how smart he is, rather than putting together a solid gameplan every week.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: You have to love the NFL. No matter how much evidence gets thrown in its face about the absolutely devastating effects of pro football’s collisions on players down the road, they continue to stonewall. The most recent example of the denial came Wednesday, when commissioner Roger Goodell testified before a House Judiciary Committee and refused to acknowledge that repeated blows to the head cause long-term damage and contribute to emotional instability. Of course, Goodell said that more research was needed and that the league was committed to that. Good for you, Rog! He even had players’ union chief DeMaurice Smith along for the ride. Smith actually echoed Goodell’s nonsense, even though he represents the players whose brains are being damaged. If you have the time, check out Malcolm Gladwell’s excellent article on the topic in last week’s New Yorker. In it, Gladwell sees the actual brain damage that multiple high-speed collisions spawn and checks out a University of North Carolina program that registers the g-force severity and frequency of hits sustained by players during practices. It’s eye-opening stuff and enough to make you understand how the NFL is in no way interested in rectifying the situation, particularly if it takes away from the violence. How many more suicides and sad, demented former players will it take to change the stance? Unfortunately, it looks like too many.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Great job by Majoke League Baseball commissioner Bud Sellout on Mark McGwire’s return to the game. Sellout offered an enthusiastic endorsement of the former slugger and suspected steroid cheat’s joining the Cardinals as a hitting instructor. Anybody who saw McGwire’s pathetic performance in front of Congress or took note of his invisibility knows the guy has something to hide. By letting him come back to baseball with no admission of guilt, pledge to help educate youth or any remorse whatsoever amounts to efforts to sanitize his image in pursuit of Hall of Fame votes. Sellout has tried to convince people (and anyone who believes him is a complete sap) that he cared about erasing steroids from the baseball landscape, but this is another example of his desire to evade the topic. McGwire should not be coaching, not without addressing a long list of mandates regarding his past. Don’t expect Sellout to enforce that. He’s too busy piling up the salary increases.
-EH-
Last year this time, Cole Hamels could have walked into the office of Mayor Michael Nutter and demanded to be made dictator of Philadelphia, and Nutter would have had to comply. Hamels could have insisted city residents wear Cowboys jerseys, sing “Meet the Mets” as the recessional hymn at any church service in the area and replace the statue of William Penn atop City Hall with a bust of Terrell Owens, and no one would have argued. Such is the power of a World Series MVP.
What a difference a year makes.
Hamels may be the reigning World Series MVP, but his star has faded considerably in the eyes of Phillies fans, who approach his start in Game Three of the series against Big Brother with more than a mild sense of trepidation. In the interval between his outstanding performance last October against the Mephistopheles Rays and Saturday night at 7:57, Hamels has resembled only sporadically the dominant ace who propelled a team to its first world championship in 28 years. In fact, Hamels goes to the mound as the fourth or fifth-best starter, in many minds, on the Phillies, given his travails this season, which have included a lack of control, the inability to finish off good hitters, a drop in velocity, a propensity for reacting to small bursts of misfortune by throwing tantrums and losing focus and generally resembling a struggling young pitcher, rather than an established ace.
Instead of using last year’s prosperity to vault him among the game’s elite pitchers, Hamels has instead regressed. Some believe he is injured, and if that is the case, he deserves a huge benefit of the doubt for putting up more than 205 innings in a compromised state. But Hamels and the Phillies insist he is healthy, and given his history, that’s easy to believe, because Hamels has never been known for his high threshold of pain. No, this is likely something different – and more troubling. Hamels’ season has been characterized by bursts of strong pitching, interspersed with nightmarish sequences in which the runs pile up, sometimes both occurring in the same game. Worse, Hamels often reacts to these worrisome stretches by melting, rather than rallying. His most noteworthy bit of distemper came during the NLCS, when he stalked about the mound area after Chase Utley threw a ball past Ryan Howard that would have completed a double play. Hamels then punctuated the outburst by throwing his mitt in the dugout after the inning was completed.
Beyond the obvious inability to control his emotions, Hamels’ eruption demonstrates something more disturbing. Talented, confident athletes usually respond to misfortune by hunkering down and taking control. By acting out, Hamels betrayed a lack of self-assurance, as if he were acknowledging that he is working on a thin margin and anything unexpected could derail whatever progress he had accumulated. He wasn’t just petulant; he was insecure. That self-doubt is what has to concern Phillies fans more than anything else, and one must believe it’s why skipper Charlie Manuel chose to pitch Hamels against Microsoft at home, rather than in The House That Avarice Built. Hamels has thrown better in front of the Philadelphia crowd than he has on the road this season, and Manuel is doing everything he can to create an atmosphere conducive to a strong start.
It’s not like he hasn’t had some success this year. In five starts from Aug. 26 to Sept. 17, Hamels went 3-1 with a 1.45 ERA, struck out 38 and walked just seven. It was right out of the October, 2008 catalog, when Hamels went 4-0 in five starts, with an ERA of 1.80, 35 Ks and nine walks. And it reinforced that Hamels is likely not hurt. More than anything, he is lacking a guaranteed out pitch, and that is allowing hitters to wait him out on his strong, but not nightmarish, fastball.
Compounding the concern about Saturday’s game is Hamels’ mound opponent, Andrew EuHGHene Pettitte, who has pitched in more post-season games than any other hurler and who loves the big stage more than Elton John and Chad Ocholoco combined. You know Pettitte won’t care if the entire Citizens Bank Park crowd dresses up like giant syringes or Roger Clemens or giant syringes sticking out of Clemens’ calloused hindquarters. He will throw his six strong innings and move on.
Hamels, on the other hand, must match Pettitte or risk putting the Phillies in a hole. He certainly has the track record, but his post-season performance this season (1-1, 6.97 ERA) is hardly reason to believe he’ll rise to the occasion. Should Hamels unfurl a gem, he will regain his status as post-season stud, erase much of the stench of his previous work and perhaps earn the right to start Game Seven in the Bronx, should things advance that far. Struggle, or worse, fall apart, and he’ll enter the ’10 season required to answer questions about which was more indicative of his future: 2008’s dominance, or 2009’s uncertainty. In effect, his pitching Saturday night will re-establish him as the King of Philadelphia or just another pitcher with one shiny item on an otherwise mundane resume. No pressure, Cole. None at all.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Cleveland Browns fans have planned a “late arrival” protest for their team’s Nov. 16 Monday night game with the Ravens. They’re hoping a TV shot of a nearly-empty stadium will put pressure on ownership to fix some problems. Organizers can count on one group to support the cause: the players. They haven’t shown up all year…In his new autobiography, Andre Agassi details his dislike of tennis, his crystal meth use, his agonizing hair loss and his marriages to Brooke Shields and Steffi Graf. In a related story, Pete Sampras is planning a book that will discuss life without a personality…The NC2A’s decision to suspend Oklahoma State wideout Dez Bryant for a year was another example of the organization’s continued war against student-athletes. Yes, Bryant lied about his meeting with Deion Sanders, but the NC2A’s discipline proved why he did it. Bryant was afraid he’d get smacked down for telling the truth. While schools spend money like crazy and prostitute themselves to corporations for a buck, the NC2A looks away. Meanwhile, a college kid works out with a former pro, and he is banished. Disgusting…Great news for all of you who believed syrup of ipecac was a little too powerful as a vomit-inducing agent. Fox is putting a camera on Cowboy Quarterback for Sunday’s entire Packers-Vikings game. Watching just a few minutes of that should inspire nausea sufficient to expel any toxin or poison that has invaded a person’s body.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Eagles’ uninspiring 27-17 win over the lousy Redskins last Monday showed just how far the team has to go before it can be considered anything more than a wild-card contender. The Birds’ offense is a mess, especially if Brian Westbrook’s concussion keeps him out of this week’s game (it should), not that coach Andy Reid uses him all that much. Injuries along the offensive front have been a problem, and that much is out of Reid’s control. But the play-calling, the incessant use of the “Wildcat” formation to no productive end and an unwillingness to commit to the run have conspired to strip the offense of a personality. Right now, it seems as if Reid is trying to make every play a big play, rather than creating a rhythm that allows for consistent movement and production. Some of the blame has to be directed at QB Donovan McNabb, whose completion percentage (57.3%) would be the second-lowest of his career, not counting his rookie season. But for the most part, the blame lies with Reid, who looks like someone trying to show everybody how smart he is, rather than putting together a solid gameplan every week.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: You have to love the NFL. No matter how much evidence gets thrown in its face about the absolutely devastating effects of pro football’s collisions on players down the road, they continue to stonewall. The most recent example of the denial came Wednesday, when commissioner Roger Goodell testified before a House Judiciary Committee and refused to acknowledge that repeated blows to the head cause long-term damage and contribute to emotional instability. Of course, Goodell said that more research was needed and that the league was committed to that. Good for you, Rog! He even had players’ union chief DeMaurice Smith along for the ride. Smith actually echoed Goodell’s nonsense, even though he represents the players whose brains are being damaged. If you have the time, check out Malcolm Gladwell’s excellent article on the topic in last week’s New Yorker. In it, Gladwell sees the actual brain damage that multiple high-speed collisions spawn and checks out a University of North Carolina program that registers the g-force severity and frequency of hits sustained by players during practices. It’s eye-opening stuff and enough to make you understand how the NFL is in no way interested in rectifying the situation, particularly if it takes away from the violence. How many more suicides and sad, demented former players will it take to change the stance? Unfortunately, it looks like too many.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Great job by Majoke League Baseball commissioner Bud Sellout on Mark McGwire’s return to the game. Sellout offered an enthusiastic endorsement of the former slugger and suspected steroid cheat’s joining the Cardinals as a hitting instructor. Anybody who saw McGwire’s pathetic performance in front of Congress or took note of his invisibility knows the guy has something to hide. By letting him come back to baseball with no admission of guilt, pledge to help educate youth or any remorse whatsoever amounts to efforts to sanitize his image in pursuit of Hall of Fame votes. Sellout has tried to convince people (and anyone who believes him is a complete sap) that he cared about erasing steroids from the baseball landscape, but this is another example of his desire to evade the topic. McGwire should not be coaching, not without addressing a long list of mandates regarding his past. Don’t expect Sellout to enforce that. He’s too busy piling up the salary increases.
-EH-
Friday, September 25, 2009
The Bullpen Follies
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
This is the time of year when El Hombre can count on a call from Deep Nose, elated Miami Hurricane alumnus and keeper of all things Phillies for the rogues and misfits who comprise our long-time season-ticket consortium for the World Champions. DN is in full accumulation mode, which means he is trying to gather as many ducats as possible for the post-season, the better to feed the hunger of our group and its ancillary members, not to mention his own speculative efforts on Stub Hub. He’s a busy man, that Deep Nose, but his efforts always result in maximum opportunities for us, and that’s a good thing.
While Hurricane QB Jacory Harris, who is so smooth he should travel with backup singers, has Deep Nose’s mind dancing, so too does the specter of a Phillies-Yankees World Series. Not only would it afford the local nine a chance to erase the stain of the four-game sweep at the hands of the Bombers in 1950, but it would also allow Deep Nose to pull in a pretty penny for some of the preferred seats in our allotment. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” DN said when reminded of the possibility. One imagines his eyes taking on cartoonish dollar-sign shapes at the thought of investment-banking pirates shelling out top dollar to see A-Roid choke in the Fall Classic.
Trouble is, while the Yankees could well find themselves making TV executives smile with a run deep into October – and perhaps, for the first time, November – the Phillies may not hold up their end of the bargain. The team’s travails as it careened toward the NL East title, a designation that sounds better than it really is, have fans’ minds and stomachs in an uncomfortable twist. This is a team with so many flaws, it’s a wonder it will end the season with about 95 wins. That is in large part a testimony to its ability to beat up on the rotten teams in the NL East, most notably the fetid Nationals (15-3) and the odious Mets (11-6). Without those teams to slap around, the Phils could well be scuffling for a wild card spot.
But they will enter the post-season as division champs, provided they take care of the minor business of whittling that magic number of four down to nil, a task the Milwaukee Brewers will no doubt be happy to make easier. And if the Phils can charge down the stretch, they might even find their way to the top spot in the league, or at least the number two position, behind the Dodgers. That will guarantee home-field advantage in the opening, best-of-five crapshoot, never a bad thing.
Once there, however, the Phillies face some big-time obstacles that could well prevent a repeat championship performance. Last year, the Phils were an imperfect team with a perfect bullpen. This year, they are an imperfect team with an imperfect bullpen. That’s not a good condition for a title aspirant. Closer Brad Lidge has blown 11 saves and might have to enter the witness protection program if he fails to do the job in the post-season. It would be nice if fireballing Ryan Madson could take care of the job, but he doesn’t seem to have the, ahem, fortitude to handle the responsibility. For a while, Brett Myers and Chan Ho Park were candidates, but injuries have waylaid each of them, and they will be lucky to be eligible for action in the playoffs, much less handle a job as vital as the closer’s. The most recent germination from manager Charlie Manuel’s fertile mind was Tyler Walker, a journeyman reliever who has looked good at times this year but hardly imbues the populous with too much confidence. The top resume item he can muster is 23 saves for a 2005 Giants team that finished 12 games below .500.
While the bullpen staggers through September, trying to get healthy and appear reliable, the Phillies lineup continues to live for the big inning and the patron saint of Earl Weaver: the three-run homer. A sacrifice fly is as rare as a reasonably priced concession item at Citizens Bank Park. The Phillies’ inability to manufacture runs is almost pathological. It’s almost as if winning a game 4-2 with a bunch of hits, sacrifices, stolen bases and walks is sacrilegious. Playing long-ball is fine when the Nationals are in town, but when the weather turns colder, and the collars become tighter, it’s not so easy to swing freely.
The saving grace for the Phillies might just be its starting rotation, which could be the deepest in team history. When a team’s wins leader is relegated to the bullpen, something good is happening. But it’s dangerous to think that the same guys who throw into the eighth inning in August and September can do that in October. A hundred pitches don’t go as far in the post-season cauldron as they do on a sultry summer evening. The bullpen will have to perform.
So, Deep Nose will continue his hunting and gathering, and the Phillies will continue to madden fans with their nightly bullpen travails. Let’s hope they can figure things out in time for October baseball, if only to see the smile on DN’s face when he can list lower-level Series tickets against the Yankees for obscene amounts of money. The team owes him that much.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The NC2A is considering taking actions to reduce drastically the burdens on athletes in Division II and might even cut back a little in D-I basketball. Of course, no cutbacks are needed in big-time football, with its 12 (and sometimes 13) game regular season, conference title tilts, bowl games and year-round conditioning. The NC2A really cares about its student-athletes. (Cough, cough.) That’s why it can’t have a playoff…The Pirates drew a robust crowd of 3,000 to Thursday’s game against the Reds, and one of the reasons given for the intimate gathering was the nearby G-20 summit. Yeah, fans couldn’t wait to get a look at Thai Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva. It couldn’t have been that a matinee between the rotten Bucs and floundering Reds was as attractive as the idea of the torrid love affair between Papa John Phillips and his daughter Mackenzie, could it? Nahhhh…The announcement that Russian gazillionaire Mikhail Prokhorov is buying the New Jersey Nets had to strike a little fear into the team’s players. On other NBA teams, poor play or a rotten attitude will result in a trip to the bench. With Prokhorov in charge, the same behavior may earn an exile to Yakutsk…Can’t understand why the NHL is having so much trouble getting its Phoenix franchise stabilized. Hockey has such a great history and tradition the desert. Boneheads…The city of Industry, which sits about 15 miles east of Los Angeles, has cleared a major hurdle in its bid to build a stadium that could lure an NFL back to the nation’s second-largest market. Imagine the excitement as fans cite 62 leisure alternatives to watching the L.A. Jaguars play in person. By the year 2025, the franchise will be looking to move, just as the Rams and Raiders did before it.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Michael Vick makes his triumphant return to the NFL Sunday when the Eagles play Kansas City, and his presence on the active roster should help the team ratchet the drama quotient sky high. There shouldn’t be too much trouble this week, since starter Kevin Kolb has done nothing during his career to warrant any complaining about the deployment of Vick, who could become the greatest option QB in NFL history. In two weeks (the Birds have a bye next Sunday), however, things could get a little dicey. Donovan McNabb isn’t the most secure fellow around, and his return to the offense, coupled with Vick’s insertion, could lead to some friction. Number Five groused about not being able to generate sufficient offensive flow when Vick was used in an exhibition game. Imagine how he’ll handle being moved to the slot while Vick runs veer plays during contests that count. Meanwhile, Vick has said he thought he’d be starting for a team by now, a laughable statement from someone who brings more baggage than an airport porter and was never a pinpoint passer to begin with. Vick should take his 8-10 snaps Sunday, try to outrun a couple linebackers and keep his mouth shut. He certainly deserves a second chance, but he has to prove himself after a two-year layoff and demonstrate that he can thrive in a grown-up offense, not a run-and-gun scheme, before someone will consider him worthy of a starting gig.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Thursday night’s loss to South Carolina proved that the hype surrounding Mississippi was irrational and the by-product of college football’s propaganda partners’ needs to prime the promotional pump in advance of each season. The Rebels were anointed the nation’s hot team, along with Oklahoma State (hello, Houston) on the basis of an upset win over Florida and a triumph over Texas Tech in the Cotton Bowl last year. All of a sudden, the Rebs were top-10 – and Thursday, they were top-five – material. The loss shows just how ridiculous it is to publish polls in August and early September, before teams have shown anything. If the popularity contests didn’t matter in the formula to choose a “national champion,” it wouldn’t matter, but because the USA Today election is part of the BCS scheme, it should have its basis a little more in fact than conjecture, since an early poll establishes an artificial hierarchy that rewards name brands. Take the Houston/OK State situation. The Cougars go to Stillwater and slap around Boone Pickens’ all-stars. That earned them a spot in the polls seven place behind the Cowpokes. That makes sense. At least the Harris Interactive Poll, which is comprised of a motley bunch of ex-coaches, B-list journalists and other assorted characters, doesn’t debut until next Monday. Perhaps its voters will take into account that success is earned on the field, not by a program’s tradition. Then again, given its track record and the asinine nature of the BCS, no one should count on anything of merit coming from the Harris poll. Get ready for another season of nonsense that devalues the world’s greatest sport.
-EH-
This is the time of year when El Hombre can count on a call from Deep Nose, elated Miami Hurricane alumnus and keeper of all things Phillies for the rogues and misfits who comprise our long-time season-ticket consortium for the World Champions. DN is in full accumulation mode, which means he is trying to gather as many ducats as possible for the post-season, the better to feed the hunger of our group and its ancillary members, not to mention his own speculative efforts on Stub Hub. He’s a busy man, that Deep Nose, but his efforts always result in maximum opportunities for us, and that’s a good thing.
While Hurricane QB Jacory Harris, who is so smooth he should travel with backup singers, has Deep Nose’s mind dancing, so too does the specter of a Phillies-Yankees World Series. Not only would it afford the local nine a chance to erase the stain of the four-game sweep at the hands of the Bombers in 1950, but it would also allow Deep Nose to pull in a pretty penny for some of the preferred seats in our allotment. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” DN said when reminded of the possibility. One imagines his eyes taking on cartoonish dollar-sign shapes at the thought of investment-banking pirates shelling out top dollar to see A-Roid choke in the Fall Classic.
Trouble is, while the Yankees could well find themselves making TV executives smile with a run deep into October – and perhaps, for the first time, November – the Phillies may not hold up their end of the bargain. The team’s travails as it careened toward the NL East title, a designation that sounds better than it really is, have fans’ minds and stomachs in an uncomfortable twist. This is a team with so many flaws, it’s a wonder it will end the season with about 95 wins. That is in large part a testimony to its ability to beat up on the rotten teams in the NL East, most notably the fetid Nationals (15-3) and the odious Mets (11-6). Without those teams to slap around, the Phils could well be scuffling for a wild card spot.
But they will enter the post-season as division champs, provided they take care of the minor business of whittling that magic number of four down to nil, a task the Milwaukee Brewers will no doubt be happy to make easier. And if the Phils can charge down the stretch, they might even find their way to the top spot in the league, or at least the number two position, behind the Dodgers. That will guarantee home-field advantage in the opening, best-of-five crapshoot, never a bad thing.
Once there, however, the Phillies face some big-time obstacles that could well prevent a repeat championship performance. Last year, the Phils were an imperfect team with a perfect bullpen. This year, they are an imperfect team with an imperfect bullpen. That’s not a good condition for a title aspirant. Closer Brad Lidge has blown 11 saves and might have to enter the witness protection program if he fails to do the job in the post-season. It would be nice if fireballing Ryan Madson could take care of the job, but he doesn’t seem to have the, ahem, fortitude to handle the responsibility. For a while, Brett Myers and Chan Ho Park were candidates, but injuries have waylaid each of them, and they will be lucky to be eligible for action in the playoffs, much less handle a job as vital as the closer’s. The most recent germination from manager Charlie Manuel’s fertile mind was Tyler Walker, a journeyman reliever who has looked good at times this year but hardly imbues the populous with too much confidence. The top resume item he can muster is 23 saves for a 2005 Giants team that finished 12 games below .500.
While the bullpen staggers through September, trying to get healthy and appear reliable, the Phillies lineup continues to live for the big inning and the patron saint of Earl Weaver: the three-run homer. A sacrifice fly is as rare as a reasonably priced concession item at Citizens Bank Park. The Phillies’ inability to manufacture runs is almost pathological. It’s almost as if winning a game 4-2 with a bunch of hits, sacrifices, stolen bases and walks is sacrilegious. Playing long-ball is fine when the Nationals are in town, but when the weather turns colder, and the collars become tighter, it’s not so easy to swing freely.
The saving grace for the Phillies might just be its starting rotation, which could be the deepest in team history. When a team’s wins leader is relegated to the bullpen, something good is happening. But it’s dangerous to think that the same guys who throw into the eighth inning in August and September can do that in October. A hundred pitches don’t go as far in the post-season cauldron as they do on a sultry summer evening. The bullpen will have to perform.
So, Deep Nose will continue his hunting and gathering, and the Phillies will continue to madden fans with their nightly bullpen travails. Let’s hope they can figure things out in time for October baseball, if only to see the smile on DN’s face when he can list lower-level Series tickets against the Yankees for obscene amounts of money. The team owes him that much.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The NC2A is considering taking actions to reduce drastically the burdens on athletes in Division II and might even cut back a little in D-I basketball. Of course, no cutbacks are needed in big-time football, with its 12 (and sometimes 13) game regular season, conference title tilts, bowl games and year-round conditioning. The NC2A really cares about its student-athletes. (Cough, cough.) That’s why it can’t have a playoff…The Pirates drew a robust crowd of 3,000 to Thursday’s game against the Reds, and one of the reasons given for the intimate gathering was the nearby G-20 summit. Yeah, fans couldn’t wait to get a look at Thai Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva. It couldn’t have been that a matinee between the rotten Bucs and floundering Reds was as attractive as the idea of the torrid love affair between Papa John Phillips and his daughter Mackenzie, could it? Nahhhh…The announcement that Russian gazillionaire Mikhail Prokhorov is buying the New Jersey Nets had to strike a little fear into the team’s players. On other NBA teams, poor play or a rotten attitude will result in a trip to the bench. With Prokhorov in charge, the same behavior may earn an exile to Yakutsk…Can’t understand why the NHL is having so much trouble getting its Phoenix franchise stabilized. Hockey has such a great history and tradition the desert. Boneheads…The city of Industry, which sits about 15 miles east of Los Angeles, has cleared a major hurdle in its bid to build a stadium that could lure an NFL back to the nation’s second-largest market. Imagine the excitement as fans cite 62 leisure alternatives to watching the L.A. Jaguars play in person. By the year 2025, the franchise will be looking to move, just as the Rams and Raiders did before it.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Michael Vick makes his triumphant return to the NFL Sunday when the Eagles play Kansas City, and his presence on the active roster should help the team ratchet the drama quotient sky high. There shouldn’t be too much trouble this week, since starter Kevin Kolb has done nothing during his career to warrant any complaining about the deployment of Vick, who could become the greatest option QB in NFL history. In two weeks (the Birds have a bye next Sunday), however, things could get a little dicey. Donovan McNabb isn’t the most secure fellow around, and his return to the offense, coupled with Vick’s insertion, could lead to some friction. Number Five groused about not being able to generate sufficient offensive flow when Vick was used in an exhibition game. Imagine how he’ll handle being moved to the slot while Vick runs veer plays during contests that count. Meanwhile, Vick has said he thought he’d be starting for a team by now, a laughable statement from someone who brings more baggage than an airport porter and was never a pinpoint passer to begin with. Vick should take his 8-10 snaps Sunday, try to outrun a couple linebackers and keep his mouth shut. He certainly deserves a second chance, but he has to prove himself after a two-year layoff and demonstrate that he can thrive in a grown-up offense, not a run-and-gun scheme, before someone will consider him worthy of a starting gig.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Thursday night’s loss to South Carolina proved that the hype surrounding Mississippi was irrational and the by-product of college football’s propaganda partners’ needs to prime the promotional pump in advance of each season. The Rebels were anointed the nation’s hot team, along with Oklahoma State (hello, Houston) on the basis of an upset win over Florida and a triumph over Texas Tech in the Cotton Bowl last year. All of a sudden, the Rebs were top-10 – and Thursday, they were top-five – material. The loss shows just how ridiculous it is to publish polls in August and early September, before teams have shown anything. If the popularity contests didn’t matter in the formula to choose a “national champion,” it wouldn’t matter, but because the USA Today election is part of the BCS scheme, it should have its basis a little more in fact than conjecture, since an early poll establishes an artificial hierarchy that rewards name brands. Take the Houston/OK State situation. The Cougars go to Stillwater and slap around Boone Pickens’ all-stars. That earned them a spot in the polls seven place behind the Cowpokes. That makes sense. At least the Harris Interactive Poll, which is comprised of a motley bunch of ex-coaches, B-list journalists and other assorted characters, doesn’t debut until next Monday. Perhaps its voters will take into account that success is earned on the field, not by a program’s tradition. Then again, given its track record and the asinine nature of the BCS, no one should count on anything of merit coming from the Harris poll. Get ready for another season of nonsense that devalues the world’s greatest sport.
-EH-
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Another Big Win for MJ
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
When the reports and accounts of Michael Jordan’s Hall of Fame acceptance speech slipped out, it was tempting – actually, it was irresistible – to tear the guy a new one. How dare he rip the media and Jerry Krause and legends like Isiah Thomas, George Gervin and Magic Johnson? How dare he make it seem as if they and others somehow brought down his universally glorified career?
Some were mystified by his tactics. He called out the “media naysayers.” He fed Krause’s words about the value of organizations over players back to him with a side order of stick-it-up-your-ass. If you only read the accounts, and you didn’t watch the speech, you thought Jordan had completely lost it and had chosen the absolute wrong venue to settle old accounts. The least he could have done was wait to be named godfather to his sister’s child to whack everybody. Was there no honor any more?
Throughout the ensuing days, pundits, columnists, analysts and blowhards weighed in on Jordan’s comments. Most of them, it seems, didn’t watch the speech. If they had, they would have understood that each of those “shots” was taken out of context. Jordan wasn’t being petty. In addition to thanking the many people who helped him reach the heights he did, he also adhered to the theme of his own competitive fire and how many people and things – real and imagined – stoked it. Or, as he said, “put so much more wood on that fire.” It was a funny, gracious, pointed address, and the people he directed his comments toward were all like him. You think Thomas was offended that Jordan wanted to “prove to everybody I deserved to be at this level?” Hell, no.
Pat Riley didn’t care that Jordan teased him, either, because Riley has the same competitive monster inside him as Jordan does. Why do you think he’s still running a team in Miami, instead of lounging around in his Armani sweatsuit by the pool or golf course? Okay, so Bryon Russell got a little angry that Jordan called him out, saying that Russell’s comments while Jordan was training for his disastrous baseball career helped motivate him. But what do you expect when you tell the greatest player ever that you can’t wait for him to come back and play again so you can guard him? When told about Jordan’s remarks, Russell said, “I’ll play his ass right now. This is a call-out for him to come play me.”
What Russell doesn’t understand, and what the media members who sprang to his and Thomas’ and Johnson’s and their own defense is that professional athletes, especially the great ones, aren’t wired like the rest of us. What we saw during Jordan’s speech was a glimpse inside a world we don’t understand, where people compete to near-death levels to win a game and then have the ability to socialize with the players they just sweated blood to defeat. Most athletes take their jobs incredibly seriously. They have a finite time to make as much money, grab as much glory and win as many games as possible, because when it’s over, nothing can replace it. Nothing. Any former player who says competing in the business world gives him the same rush as competing on the field or court or ice is lying. Jordan’s speech was a chance for us to see how players talk to each other. Riley smiled when Jordan chided him for not allowing MJ to have lunch with Knicks players during a Chicago-New York playoff series. He smiled because he was competing against Jordan by imposing that edict. He was doing what he could in that moment.
Okay, so maybe Jordan shouldn’t have said that he didn’t invite former Bulls GM Jerry Krause to the induction ceremony. But even his criticism of Krause’s statement that organizations win titles, not players, was tempered. He recalled Krause’s competitive streak. He admitted that the organization “puts together the team.” He also said, “at the end of the day, the team has to go play.” Again, we saw the pride and drive that made him so great. It’s something few can understand, because so few get to join that fraternity and such a small number within it has the overwhelming, all-consuming desire to win that people like Jordan and Riley and Thomas have.
Even the media shouldn’t be offended. Jordan said the “naysayers” had told him and everybody else “a scoring champion can’t win an NBA title.” And, if you’ll recall at the time, there was huge backlash against Jordan by purists who viewed him only as a shot-pumping endorsement machine concerned solely with his own self-aggrandizement. “I’m not saying they were wrong,” Jordan said about the media. But their words motivated him. Funny how when the media gets called out, its members get so touchy. Whatever happened to the days of the hard-boiled, cynical newsman?
In the final analysis, Jordan’s speech was a perfect summation of his on-court persona. He asked at the beginning, “What don’t you know about me?” And he was right. We know practically every story about him. We know nearly each step along his journey. But we apparently don’t understand what made him great. We don’t get the concept of competition and motivation and how the great ones find their spark any way they can.
“You look for any kind of messages that people may say or do to get you motivated to play the game of basketball at the highest level,” Jordan said.
That says it all. Jordan’s speech wasn’t a giant raised middle finger to the people he mentioned. (Okay, maybe it was a little to Krause.) Instead, it was a look at how greatness continues to be great. If you need to take some trash talk from Bryon Russell and make it a theme for the season, you do it. If Chuck Daly beats you at golf during training camp for the ’92 Olympic Dream Team, and that helps you score 36 on the Nets the next season, so be it. This speech would have been better received had it been delivered solely to the NBA community. They would have understood. And afterward, they would have stood around and traded war stories that only they could truly appreciate.
When El Hombre was researching his book on college football rivalries, he was struck by how few of the former players had an intense dislike for those against whom they competed. Although fans and alumni were almost pathological in their hate for the Other Side, most of the players felt respect for their fellow gladiators. That doesn’t fit the idea of how we want our athletic heroes to behave, but it’s the way it is. Jordan could trade baskets and elbows with Charles Oakley for 48 minutes and then dine with him because the two men understood the nature of competition. Jordan’s speech was a window into that world, and it should be required viewing for those who want to understand professional sports better.
Okay, so maybe Jerry Krause shouldn’t watch it. But everybody else needs to hit YouTube.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Some may view the NFL’s new “Red Zone” channel on Comcast an indication that the 21st century is all about impatience and short attention spans, but El Hombre disagrees. After spending an hour hunkered down in the Red Zone last Sunday, EH declares it one of the greatest inventions of all time. Non-stop action, photo finishes and Gus Johnson’s screaming are enough to get the Big Imprimatur. Be sure to tune in…What a great speech Wednesday night by former Tigers broadcaster Ernie Harwell, who was recently diagnosed with untreatable cancer. Harwell’s distinctive voice carried a gracious message of thanks and love of the game. He’s a true gentleman and treasure of baseball…T.O.’s comments in the wake of the Bills’ loss to New England don’t register anywhere near some of his other outbursts during his career, but the subtle shots he took at QB Trent Edwards and kick returner Leodis McKelvin demonstrate how dangerous he is. If the Bills are struggling by week six, he could be in full team-ruining mode. Buffalo, you have been warned…Notre Dame will honor its great teams of the 1940s during Saturday’s game against Michigan State. It’s a good idea to remind fans why the Irish are such a legendary program, since Heavy C is doing a good job of shattering the myths…From the Mensa File comes this doozy from Houston: Disgruntled Texans D-back Dunta Robinson has been fined $25,000 by the team for wearing shoes with the message “Pay me, Rick” on them in last Sunday’s opener against the Jets, a reference to Houston GM Rick Smith. Robinson signed a one-year contract about 10 days ago but wants a long-term deal. What better way to open negotiations than with a public shot at the man responsible for signing you. You can catch Dunta at next week’s meeting.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Long-time source Deep Nose checked in with an interesting take on the latest Donovan McNabb injury situation. A devoted Eagles fan, to the point of some wondering whether he has a man crush on Andy Reid, Deep Nose said, “I think McNabb is a very good NFL quarterback, and the Eagles will probably be worse off when he leaves, but I’m kind of looking forward to him leaving, just to end all the drama.” That’s an interesting take, but it may just sum up the feelings of many Birds fans. McNabb has been excellent, even if he hasn’t led the team to a Super Bowl title. But his latest injury has created more uncertainty under center for the Eagles and could lead to a variety of scenarios that could be too weird for words. For instance, imagine if Jeff Garcia takes over for Kevin Kolb Sunday (provided McNabb can’t play) and then McNabb is back for the Chiefs on Sept. 26. Do the Eagles cut Kolb, their “franchise” QB of the future and keep Garcia to go with Number Five and Michael Vick? Do they jettison Garcia and hope Kolb improves? And what do they do with Vick? McNabb didn’t ask Damione Lewis to toss his 300-pound self on his rib cage, but the whole thing has created another act in a long drama. Deep Nose is right that things won’t be as wild without McNabb, but the team won’t be as good, either. Because of that, we should all learn to deal with the craziness.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Memphis’ decision to sign Allen Iverson is one of the worst in recent NBA history and shows what happens when owners make decisions, rather than basketball people. The Grizzlies need to sell tickets, and that’s why they added both Iverson and Zach Randolph, both of whom are practically registered with the Poison Control Center when it comes to exposing them to young teams. GM Chris Wallace and his staff have been bound and gagged by owner Michael Heisley, who has decided that building for the future matters little, when a few thousand tickets can be sold today. Giving Iverson the chance to jack up 25 shots a game and negatively influence the team’s youngsters with his late-night antics and carousing is like asking Kanye West to teach manners to grade-school kids. Memphis has derailed its rebuilding efforts by bringing Iverson on board, and pairing him with Randolph, another selfish player, will be disastrous. The recession is forcing people to make some desperate decisions, but this one could be one of the worst on record. Iverson is out to rehab his image by showing he can score again – at all costs. This won’t be pretty.
-EH-
When the reports and accounts of Michael Jordan’s Hall of Fame acceptance speech slipped out, it was tempting – actually, it was irresistible – to tear the guy a new one. How dare he rip the media and Jerry Krause and legends like Isiah Thomas, George Gervin and Magic Johnson? How dare he make it seem as if they and others somehow brought down his universally glorified career?
Some were mystified by his tactics. He called out the “media naysayers.” He fed Krause’s words about the value of organizations over players back to him with a side order of stick-it-up-your-ass. If you only read the accounts, and you didn’t watch the speech, you thought Jordan had completely lost it and had chosen the absolute wrong venue to settle old accounts. The least he could have done was wait to be named godfather to his sister’s child to whack everybody. Was there no honor any more?
Throughout the ensuing days, pundits, columnists, analysts and blowhards weighed in on Jordan’s comments. Most of them, it seems, didn’t watch the speech. If they had, they would have understood that each of those “shots” was taken out of context. Jordan wasn’t being petty. In addition to thanking the many people who helped him reach the heights he did, he also adhered to the theme of his own competitive fire and how many people and things – real and imagined – stoked it. Or, as he said, “put so much more wood on that fire.” It was a funny, gracious, pointed address, and the people he directed his comments toward were all like him. You think Thomas was offended that Jordan wanted to “prove to everybody I deserved to be at this level?” Hell, no.
Pat Riley didn’t care that Jordan teased him, either, because Riley has the same competitive monster inside him as Jordan does. Why do you think he’s still running a team in Miami, instead of lounging around in his Armani sweatsuit by the pool or golf course? Okay, so Bryon Russell got a little angry that Jordan called him out, saying that Russell’s comments while Jordan was training for his disastrous baseball career helped motivate him. But what do you expect when you tell the greatest player ever that you can’t wait for him to come back and play again so you can guard him? When told about Jordan’s remarks, Russell said, “I’ll play his ass right now. This is a call-out for him to come play me.”
What Russell doesn’t understand, and what the media members who sprang to his and Thomas’ and Johnson’s and their own defense is that professional athletes, especially the great ones, aren’t wired like the rest of us. What we saw during Jordan’s speech was a glimpse inside a world we don’t understand, where people compete to near-death levels to win a game and then have the ability to socialize with the players they just sweated blood to defeat. Most athletes take their jobs incredibly seriously. They have a finite time to make as much money, grab as much glory and win as many games as possible, because when it’s over, nothing can replace it. Nothing. Any former player who says competing in the business world gives him the same rush as competing on the field or court or ice is lying. Jordan’s speech was a chance for us to see how players talk to each other. Riley smiled when Jordan chided him for not allowing MJ to have lunch with Knicks players during a Chicago-New York playoff series. He smiled because he was competing against Jordan by imposing that edict. He was doing what he could in that moment.
Okay, so maybe Jordan shouldn’t have said that he didn’t invite former Bulls GM Jerry Krause to the induction ceremony. But even his criticism of Krause’s statement that organizations win titles, not players, was tempered. He recalled Krause’s competitive streak. He admitted that the organization “puts together the team.” He also said, “at the end of the day, the team has to go play.” Again, we saw the pride and drive that made him so great. It’s something few can understand, because so few get to join that fraternity and such a small number within it has the overwhelming, all-consuming desire to win that people like Jordan and Riley and Thomas have.
Even the media shouldn’t be offended. Jordan said the “naysayers” had told him and everybody else “a scoring champion can’t win an NBA title.” And, if you’ll recall at the time, there was huge backlash against Jordan by purists who viewed him only as a shot-pumping endorsement machine concerned solely with his own self-aggrandizement. “I’m not saying they were wrong,” Jordan said about the media. But their words motivated him. Funny how when the media gets called out, its members get so touchy. Whatever happened to the days of the hard-boiled, cynical newsman?
In the final analysis, Jordan’s speech was a perfect summation of his on-court persona. He asked at the beginning, “What don’t you know about me?” And he was right. We know practically every story about him. We know nearly each step along his journey. But we apparently don’t understand what made him great. We don’t get the concept of competition and motivation and how the great ones find their spark any way they can.
“You look for any kind of messages that people may say or do to get you motivated to play the game of basketball at the highest level,” Jordan said.
That says it all. Jordan’s speech wasn’t a giant raised middle finger to the people he mentioned. (Okay, maybe it was a little to Krause.) Instead, it was a look at how greatness continues to be great. If you need to take some trash talk from Bryon Russell and make it a theme for the season, you do it. If Chuck Daly beats you at golf during training camp for the ’92 Olympic Dream Team, and that helps you score 36 on the Nets the next season, so be it. This speech would have been better received had it been delivered solely to the NBA community. They would have understood. And afterward, they would have stood around and traded war stories that only they could truly appreciate.
When El Hombre was researching his book on college football rivalries, he was struck by how few of the former players had an intense dislike for those against whom they competed. Although fans and alumni were almost pathological in their hate for the Other Side, most of the players felt respect for their fellow gladiators. That doesn’t fit the idea of how we want our athletic heroes to behave, but it’s the way it is. Jordan could trade baskets and elbows with Charles Oakley for 48 minutes and then dine with him because the two men understood the nature of competition. Jordan’s speech was a window into that world, and it should be required viewing for those who want to understand professional sports better.
Okay, so maybe Jerry Krause shouldn’t watch it. But everybody else needs to hit YouTube.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Some may view the NFL’s new “Red Zone” channel on Comcast an indication that the 21st century is all about impatience and short attention spans, but El Hombre disagrees. After spending an hour hunkered down in the Red Zone last Sunday, EH declares it one of the greatest inventions of all time. Non-stop action, photo finishes and Gus Johnson’s screaming are enough to get the Big Imprimatur. Be sure to tune in…What a great speech Wednesday night by former Tigers broadcaster Ernie Harwell, who was recently diagnosed with untreatable cancer. Harwell’s distinctive voice carried a gracious message of thanks and love of the game. He’s a true gentleman and treasure of baseball…T.O.’s comments in the wake of the Bills’ loss to New England don’t register anywhere near some of his other outbursts during his career, but the subtle shots he took at QB Trent Edwards and kick returner Leodis McKelvin demonstrate how dangerous he is. If the Bills are struggling by week six, he could be in full team-ruining mode. Buffalo, you have been warned…Notre Dame will honor its great teams of the 1940s during Saturday’s game against Michigan State. It’s a good idea to remind fans why the Irish are such a legendary program, since Heavy C is doing a good job of shattering the myths…From the Mensa File comes this doozy from Houston: Disgruntled Texans D-back Dunta Robinson has been fined $25,000 by the team for wearing shoes with the message “Pay me, Rick” on them in last Sunday’s opener against the Jets, a reference to Houston GM Rick Smith. Robinson signed a one-year contract about 10 days ago but wants a long-term deal. What better way to open negotiations than with a public shot at the man responsible for signing you. You can catch Dunta at next week’s meeting.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Long-time source Deep Nose checked in with an interesting take on the latest Donovan McNabb injury situation. A devoted Eagles fan, to the point of some wondering whether he has a man crush on Andy Reid, Deep Nose said, “I think McNabb is a very good NFL quarterback, and the Eagles will probably be worse off when he leaves, but I’m kind of looking forward to him leaving, just to end all the drama.” That’s an interesting take, but it may just sum up the feelings of many Birds fans. McNabb has been excellent, even if he hasn’t led the team to a Super Bowl title. But his latest injury has created more uncertainty under center for the Eagles and could lead to a variety of scenarios that could be too weird for words. For instance, imagine if Jeff Garcia takes over for Kevin Kolb Sunday (provided McNabb can’t play) and then McNabb is back for the Chiefs on Sept. 26. Do the Eagles cut Kolb, their “franchise” QB of the future and keep Garcia to go with Number Five and Michael Vick? Do they jettison Garcia and hope Kolb improves? And what do they do with Vick? McNabb didn’t ask Damione Lewis to toss his 300-pound self on his rib cage, but the whole thing has created another act in a long drama. Deep Nose is right that things won’t be as wild without McNabb, but the team won’t be as good, either. Because of that, we should all learn to deal with the craziness.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Memphis’ decision to sign Allen Iverson is one of the worst in recent NBA history and shows what happens when owners make decisions, rather than basketball people. The Grizzlies need to sell tickets, and that’s why they added both Iverson and Zach Randolph, both of whom are practically registered with the Poison Control Center when it comes to exposing them to young teams. GM Chris Wallace and his staff have been bound and gagged by owner Michael Heisley, who has decided that building for the future matters little, when a few thousand tickets can be sold today. Giving Iverson the chance to jack up 25 shots a game and negatively influence the team’s youngsters with his late-night antics and carousing is like asking Kanye West to teach manners to grade-school kids. Memphis has derailed its rebuilding efforts by bringing Iverson on board, and pairing him with Randolph, another selfish player, will be disastrous. The recession is forcing people to make some desperate decisions, but this one could be one of the worst on record. Iverson is out to rehab his image by showing he can score again – at all costs. This won’t be pretty.
-EH-
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Time To Trim Some Fat
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
As college coaching bullies go, Jim Calhoun has some work to do before he can approach the standards established by some of the legends in the field. The UConn coach can stamp his feet all he wants, talk down to officials all day and provide sarcastic responses to reporters’ questions until their curiosity withers, and he still won’t be in the same (low) class as Generalissimo Knight, Mike Krzyzewski, Nick Saban and that ilk. And when it comes to the Hall of Fame (Woody Hayes, John Thompson, etc.) Calhoun still has plenty of work to do.
Despite criticisms to the contrary, Calhoun’s tirade after Saturday’s win over South Florida doesn’t enhance his credentials in the discussion of coaching tyrants. Granted, Calhoun didn’t look good as he lost his cool in the face of questions from Ken Krayeske, a journalist/activist/law student who used (improperly) a post-game press conference as a forum to put forth his agenda that because the state of Connecticut is running a $1 billion deficit, Calhoun’s $1.6 million salary is excessive and needs to be cut drastically. Calhoun could have said something other than “I want to retire some day” and “Not a dime back,” not to mention “Shut up!” When young coaches are trained in the art of media relations, they will be shown Calhoun’s performance as an example of how not to behave. When your comments after a basketball game cause the governor of your state to use the term “embarrassing,” you might want to consider a little anger management training. Or at least switch to decaf.
In the days following the incident, Krayeske has become a minor celebrity (the clock is at 14:55 and counting) and expressed his delight that his questions have sparked a national discussion. Calhoun has since won his 800th career game and continues to search for safe shelters for his income within a shaky investment climate. In other words, life goes on pretty much the same way as always in the Nutmeg State. And in college athletics. Still, it’s up for debate whether the Connecticut basketball team actually brings in $12 million annually to the university. The Hartford Courant reported that the direct revenues from the program (per UConn sports information department reports) are $7.3 million, with $5 million of the school’s $20 million in corporate sponsorship deals attributed to the hoop team. That pushes the number to Calhoun’s $12 million assertion.
No matter what the final figure is, there can be no disputing that in this or any other economic climate, the business of college athletics is out of control. While Calhoun crows about his ability to produce for the university, schools all over the country are experiencing budget woes that have forced (at best) spending cutbacks and (at worst) layoffs and the cessation of programs. Even Ohio State, which had the second-highest revenues among universities in 2008 (about $114 million), has experienced a downturn in men’s basketball revenues that will impact staff travel and expenses. Guess that means football coach Jim Tressel will have his sweater vest allowance trimmed.
The bigger issue is whether the recession will lead to any substantive changes in how the biggest universities do business. While the rest of us are asked to cut back and tighten up, construction continues apace on luxury suites at Michigan Stadium. While jobs are being cut by the tens of thousands, and retirement accounts dissipate faster than A-Rod’s credibility, programs continue to sequester their teams, coaches and support personnel in hotels before home games and spare few expenses when it comes to recruiting. Stanford is cutting five sports, while the Cardinal grid team is facing sagging attendance and diminishing revenues – but no cutbacks. We all know King Football pays the freight for the “minor” sports, and when it staggers, the effects are felt on the softball field and in the pool, not necessarily the gridiron.
This is by no means a call for big-time schools to de-emphasize football. El Hombre would never want that for the world’s greatest sport. But there has to be some control exercised, and it’s up to the NC2A to impose it, since its members can’t possibly be expected to do it themselves. If Texas were to pull back dramatically in one area, you can bet Oklahoma would exploit that faster than it would go at a frightened freshman cornerback in the Cotton Bowl. If Georgia decided to bus to games, count on Florida assistant coaches to rename the Bulldogs “Team Greyhound.” It’s time for the grown-ups to step in, and that means the folks in Indianapolis need to display some rare fortitude and compel the schools to change how they do football business – at least until things improve across the country.
Yes, the country needs entertainment and diversions. It does not, however, need Ohio State to raise its football ticket prices a dollar (to $63 a game), in order to cover a $500,000 or so shortfall. Teams need to get on the bus for road trips to schools fewer than 200 miles away. They need to be more cost-conscious when entertaining and pursuing recruits. They need to put a ceiling on coaches’ salaries, the better to show that everybody is attempting to help the bottom line. This is not a plea for punitive measures, rather a chance to let the one part of a university that rarely has to worry about funds (OSU’s revenues have climbed $10 million in two years) to acknowledge that it is part of something bigger. Jim Calhoun need not threaten his golden years by surrendering even a dime of his salary. He does, however, as the state’s top-paid employee, have to show some compassion for those who aren’t making $1.6 million a year, for those who don’t even have jobs. Was Krayeske out of line for asking the question in a post-game setting? Absolutely. He wasn’t, however, wrong for raising the issue, not about Calhoun specifically but about an industry that has been rollicking along for the past 20 years and is now showing signs of facing some of the same concerns of other businesses. College football and basketball support a lot of teams, and that’s great, but it’s not right to ask the wrestling team to cut more weight when the football training table is serving chateaubriand. Calhoun missed a golden opportunity to display some empathy. Given another opportunity, he might act differently. Let’s hope those in charge of college athletics do.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Nationals GM Jim Bowden could be jobless within a couple days, thanks to allegations that he was skimming money off the bonuses of players the team signed from Latin America. He’s also in trouble because Washington inked a player it said was a 19-year old, when in fact the young man was 23 – and had a completely different identity. Bowden shouldn’t worry if he’s fired, because he can always get work at the carnival guessing women’s ages. They’ll love him…Michael Phelps has been dropped as the keynote speaker at two events in Canada next week because of his “widely publicized alleged use of marijuana.” The good news is that his agent picked up two other gigs for him right away in Jamaica and Amsterdam…Tampa Bay cut five players Wednesday, four of whom were older than new coach Raheem Morris, 32. Salary, of course, was a big reason, but Morris had been complaining that the players had been forcing him to eat his vegetables and go to bed at 10 p.m…Andy Roddick may not have won a major tennis tournament, but he gets big praise for boycotting the Dubai Tennis Classic, after organizers prohibited an Israeli, Shahar Peer, from competing in the women’s draw. It’s nice to see an American athlete with the guts to speak up about important issues…Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin has called for stiffer penalties for athletes caught using performance-enhancing drugs, in the wake of a scandal involving members of the country’s biathlon team. Officials acted quickly, upping the punishments from “no dessert” to “no TV for a week.” Leonid Brezhnev was unavailable for comment.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The aforementioned move by Tampa Bay put the Bucs something like $50 million under the salary cap for the 2009 season, just one of the squads with a huge amount to spend when the free-agent marketplace springs to life at midnight. The Eagles happen to be one of those outfits, thanks to about a $30 mil surplus, but don’t expect them to go crazy outbidding other teams for marginal talents. They might take a close look at Giants running back Derrick Ward. They could look at an offensive lineman, although Jordan Gross’ recent giant contract with Carolina (six years, nearly $60 million) could drive up the price too far. Wideouts T.J. Houshmandzadeh and (Hello) Laveranues Coles are possibilities, but it’s unlikely the Birds will pay top dollar for a number two receiver. QB Donovan McNabb is asking for weapons, but they probably won’t come through free agency, and if they do, they will be of the semiautomatic pistol, not the H-bomb, variety. This isn’t a case of the Eagles’ being cheap, rather an indication of a mediocre crop and unrealistic price tags. The team needs help if it wants to compete for the Super Bowl, but it’s unlikely to make a big splash in the next couple days. That means it probably won’t be a good idea to trade out of the Draft’s first round – again.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: NBA analysts and fans are debating the pending union of the Boston Celtics and recalcitrant guard/serial team-wrecker Stephon Marbury on the wrong terms. They want to discover whether the guard can help the team with his production off the bench. They want to know if his infamous carcinogenic personality will spoil the harmonious Boston locker room. Those are worthy questions, but they ignore the biggest issue here, and that’s the sheer nausea-inducing idea that after a career of me-first play, Marbury will have a chance to get a championship ring he clearly doesn’t deserve. He forced the Knicks to release him by putting together a series of lethal seasons with the team that made it impossible for the new regime to consider using him on a regular basis this season. As he sat, collecting the bulk of his $20.8 million contract and sulking about not being bought out or traded, Marbury was a high-profile liability on the Knicks’ ledger. Now, he’s set to join the defending NBA champions, and if he can behave himself (no guarantee), he’ll get the opportunity to chase the ring he never approached as a shoot-first poison on several other teams. It’s a chance for Marbury to sanitize his reputation, because you know as each successive week goes by without his infecting the Celtics with his own brand of basketball bacteria, more and more media outlets will run “redemption” pieces about a veteran who’s “playing to win.” Poppycock. He’s playing for next year’s contract, and if that means sublimating his true essence for a few months, he’ll do it. Don’t be fooled, though. Marbury hasn’t changed. He’s just employing a Machiavellian approach to his current situation. The good news: It’s yet another reason to root against Boston.
-EH-
As college coaching bullies go, Jim Calhoun has some work to do before he can approach the standards established by some of the legends in the field. The UConn coach can stamp his feet all he wants, talk down to officials all day and provide sarcastic responses to reporters’ questions until their curiosity withers, and he still won’t be in the same (low) class as Generalissimo Knight, Mike Krzyzewski, Nick Saban and that ilk. And when it comes to the Hall of Fame (Woody Hayes, John Thompson, etc.) Calhoun still has plenty of work to do.
Despite criticisms to the contrary, Calhoun’s tirade after Saturday’s win over South Florida doesn’t enhance his credentials in the discussion of coaching tyrants. Granted, Calhoun didn’t look good as he lost his cool in the face of questions from Ken Krayeske, a journalist/activist/law student who used (improperly) a post-game press conference as a forum to put forth his agenda that because the state of Connecticut is running a $1 billion deficit, Calhoun’s $1.6 million salary is excessive and needs to be cut drastically. Calhoun could have said something other than “I want to retire some day” and “Not a dime back,” not to mention “Shut up!” When young coaches are trained in the art of media relations, they will be shown Calhoun’s performance as an example of how not to behave. When your comments after a basketball game cause the governor of your state to use the term “embarrassing,” you might want to consider a little anger management training. Or at least switch to decaf.
In the days following the incident, Krayeske has become a minor celebrity (the clock is at 14:55 and counting) and expressed his delight that his questions have sparked a national discussion. Calhoun has since won his 800th career game and continues to search for safe shelters for his income within a shaky investment climate. In other words, life goes on pretty much the same way as always in the Nutmeg State. And in college athletics. Still, it’s up for debate whether the Connecticut basketball team actually brings in $12 million annually to the university. The Hartford Courant reported that the direct revenues from the program (per UConn sports information department reports) are $7.3 million, with $5 million of the school’s $20 million in corporate sponsorship deals attributed to the hoop team. That pushes the number to Calhoun’s $12 million assertion.
No matter what the final figure is, there can be no disputing that in this or any other economic climate, the business of college athletics is out of control. While Calhoun crows about his ability to produce for the university, schools all over the country are experiencing budget woes that have forced (at best) spending cutbacks and (at worst) layoffs and the cessation of programs. Even Ohio State, which had the second-highest revenues among universities in 2008 (about $114 million), has experienced a downturn in men’s basketball revenues that will impact staff travel and expenses. Guess that means football coach Jim Tressel will have his sweater vest allowance trimmed.
The bigger issue is whether the recession will lead to any substantive changes in how the biggest universities do business. While the rest of us are asked to cut back and tighten up, construction continues apace on luxury suites at Michigan Stadium. While jobs are being cut by the tens of thousands, and retirement accounts dissipate faster than A-Rod’s credibility, programs continue to sequester their teams, coaches and support personnel in hotels before home games and spare few expenses when it comes to recruiting. Stanford is cutting five sports, while the Cardinal grid team is facing sagging attendance and diminishing revenues – but no cutbacks. We all know King Football pays the freight for the “minor” sports, and when it staggers, the effects are felt on the softball field and in the pool, not necessarily the gridiron.
This is by no means a call for big-time schools to de-emphasize football. El Hombre would never want that for the world’s greatest sport. But there has to be some control exercised, and it’s up to the NC2A to impose it, since its members can’t possibly be expected to do it themselves. If Texas were to pull back dramatically in one area, you can bet Oklahoma would exploit that faster than it would go at a frightened freshman cornerback in the Cotton Bowl. If Georgia decided to bus to games, count on Florida assistant coaches to rename the Bulldogs “Team Greyhound.” It’s time for the grown-ups to step in, and that means the folks in Indianapolis need to display some rare fortitude and compel the schools to change how they do football business – at least until things improve across the country.
Yes, the country needs entertainment and diversions. It does not, however, need Ohio State to raise its football ticket prices a dollar (to $63 a game), in order to cover a $500,000 or so shortfall. Teams need to get on the bus for road trips to schools fewer than 200 miles away. They need to be more cost-conscious when entertaining and pursuing recruits. They need to put a ceiling on coaches’ salaries, the better to show that everybody is attempting to help the bottom line. This is not a plea for punitive measures, rather a chance to let the one part of a university that rarely has to worry about funds (OSU’s revenues have climbed $10 million in two years) to acknowledge that it is part of something bigger. Jim Calhoun need not threaten his golden years by surrendering even a dime of his salary. He does, however, as the state’s top-paid employee, have to show some compassion for those who aren’t making $1.6 million a year, for those who don’t even have jobs. Was Krayeske out of line for asking the question in a post-game setting? Absolutely. He wasn’t, however, wrong for raising the issue, not about Calhoun specifically but about an industry that has been rollicking along for the past 20 years and is now showing signs of facing some of the same concerns of other businesses. College football and basketball support a lot of teams, and that’s great, but it’s not right to ask the wrestling team to cut more weight when the football training table is serving chateaubriand. Calhoun missed a golden opportunity to display some empathy. Given another opportunity, he might act differently. Let’s hope those in charge of college athletics do.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Nationals GM Jim Bowden could be jobless within a couple days, thanks to allegations that he was skimming money off the bonuses of players the team signed from Latin America. He’s also in trouble because Washington inked a player it said was a 19-year old, when in fact the young man was 23 – and had a completely different identity. Bowden shouldn’t worry if he’s fired, because he can always get work at the carnival guessing women’s ages. They’ll love him…Michael Phelps has been dropped as the keynote speaker at two events in Canada next week because of his “widely publicized alleged use of marijuana.” The good news is that his agent picked up two other gigs for him right away in Jamaica and Amsterdam…Tampa Bay cut five players Wednesday, four of whom were older than new coach Raheem Morris, 32. Salary, of course, was a big reason, but Morris had been complaining that the players had been forcing him to eat his vegetables and go to bed at 10 p.m…Andy Roddick may not have won a major tennis tournament, but he gets big praise for boycotting the Dubai Tennis Classic, after organizers prohibited an Israeli, Shahar Peer, from competing in the women’s draw. It’s nice to see an American athlete with the guts to speak up about important issues…Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin has called for stiffer penalties for athletes caught using performance-enhancing drugs, in the wake of a scandal involving members of the country’s biathlon team. Officials acted quickly, upping the punishments from “no dessert” to “no TV for a week.” Leonid Brezhnev was unavailable for comment.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The aforementioned move by Tampa Bay put the Bucs something like $50 million under the salary cap for the 2009 season, just one of the squads with a huge amount to spend when the free-agent marketplace springs to life at midnight. The Eagles happen to be one of those outfits, thanks to about a $30 mil surplus, but don’t expect them to go crazy outbidding other teams for marginal talents. They might take a close look at Giants running back Derrick Ward. They could look at an offensive lineman, although Jordan Gross’ recent giant contract with Carolina (six years, nearly $60 million) could drive up the price too far. Wideouts T.J. Houshmandzadeh and (Hello) Laveranues Coles are possibilities, but it’s unlikely the Birds will pay top dollar for a number two receiver. QB Donovan McNabb is asking for weapons, but they probably won’t come through free agency, and if they do, they will be of the semiautomatic pistol, not the H-bomb, variety. This isn’t a case of the Eagles’ being cheap, rather an indication of a mediocre crop and unrealistic price tags. The team needs help if it wants to compete for the Super Bowl, but it’s unlikely to make a big splash in the next couple days. That means it probably won’t be a good idea to trade out of the Draft’s first round – again.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: NBA analysts and fans are debating the pending union of the Boston Celtics and recalcitrant guard/serial team-wrecker Stephon Marbury on the wrong terms. They want to discover whether the guard can help the team with his production off the bench. They want to know if his infamous carcinogenic personality will spoil the harmonious Boston locker room. Those are worthy questions, but they ignore the biggest issue here, and that’s the sheer nausea-inducing idea that after a career of me-first play, Marbury will have a chance to get a championship ring he clearly doesn’t deserve. He forced the Knicks to release him by putting together a series of lethal seasons with the team that made it impossible for the new regime to consider using him on a regular basis this season. As he sat, collecting the bulk of his $20.8 million contract and sulking about not being bought out or traded, Marbury was a high-profile liability on the Knicks’ ledger. Now, he’s set to join the defending NBA champions, and if he can behave himself (no guarantee), he’ll get the opportunity to chase the ring he never approached as a shoot-first poison on several other teams. It’s a chance for Marbury to sanitize his reputation, because you know as each successive week goes by without his infecting the Celtics with his own brand of basketball bacteria, more and more media outlets will run “redemption” pieces about a veteran who’s “playing to win.” Poppycock. He’s playing for next year’s contract, and if that means sublimating his true essence for a few months, he’ll do it. Don’t be fooled, though. Marbury hasn’t changed. He’s just employing a Machiavellian approach to his current situation. The good news: It’s yet another reason to root against Boston.
-EH-
Thursday, February 19, 2009
How Dare He?
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
With so much going on in the world of sports, from the negotiations to broadcast NASCAR’s weekly drama on the Soap Opera Network, to the contrived excitement of the NBA Slam Dunk Contest and Sheriff Buford T. Justice’s inability to make drug charges stick against Snoop Phelps, there was absolutely no reason to join the hysterical media chorus about Alex Rodriguez, his young and stupid cousin and their Cream of Cheat. Why not talk about how NFL Network draft analyst Mike Mayock is going to go nuts over some offensive lineman’s hip drop at this weekend’s Scouting Combine? Or whether Texas Tech actually thinks it can fire its wildly successful head coach and still lure 50,000 people out to the west Texas scrub every other Saturday.
That will all have to wait, and all because of an e-mail sent to me by an esteemed national radio host. Attached to it was a blog post by a Milwaukee talker with the sporting eye of an 80-year old double-cataract myope. This genius has decided that he is the smartest guy in the country, because he has defended Bud Sellout all along, and now he has been vindicated. This is a transparent case of Bratwurst City brotherhood, since Sellout is a former snake oil salesman, er, car dealer from Sudstown. And even though anyone who can honestly say the steroid mess in baseball can be blamed on everybody but the man in charge, is clearly in need of a refresher course on logic, El Hombre is steamed.
Looking for villains in this mess is like trying to find evidence of Mickey Rourke’s hard life and bad career decisions on his battered face. They are everywhere. And blaming Sellout for the whole mess is unfair. Without the strong supporting work of union goons Donald Fehr and Gene Ozra, baseball’s drug mess never could have erupted like the acne on Jose Canseco’s back. Without the willingness of players to risk their long-term health by taking everything from testosterone to infertility drugs to pills designed to fight narcolepsy, the game wouldn’t have been soiled like the Suleman octuplets’ diapers. And without a hero-worshipping group of fans and media, who marveled at the long-ball numbers being cranked out by power-hitting laboratory mutants, the game’s credibility wouldn’t be suffering worse than Joaquin Phoenix’s.
The word is conspiracy, and we were all in on it, at least for a while. And if we’re all guilty in some way, then Sellout is especially culpable, because he was in charge. There was a lot to dislike about Uberfuhrer Steinbrenner during his rein of terror atop the Yankee organization, but he got one thing right from the start: If you want to be the boss, you have to make the difficult decisions and stand by them. That’s what people in charge do. They face down the tough situations, choose to act and then withstand the inevitable criticism. They set the pace and then remain strong when others launch bombs at them. What do you think would have happened in London during WWII if Winston Churchill had remained sequestered in a bunker, when Nazi bombs were pelting every house and pub night after night? There would have been chaos and despair. Instead, Churchill surveyed the wreckage daily, promised things would change and endured the barbs of those who insisted it was his mismanagement that allowed the mess to take place. That’s leadership.
What we have now from Sellout is a cowardice that worsens daily. The commissioner has decided that he is not only innocent of all charges being brought against him in the court of public opinion, but that he needs to convince us that everybody else is guilty. There hasn’t been a leadership breech this grotesque since Neville Chamberlain decided Hitler wasn’t such a bad guy after all and surrendered much of Europe to the tyrant in a quest for “peace in our time.” Sellout is in full sprint, dashing away from his responsibilities as a leader, one of which is accepting the blame for previous mistakes.
The worst part of Sellout’s recent defense strategy is his outrage. How dare he take offense at those who accuse him of ineffectiveness and complicity during the past decade-plus? Where was his voice when the McGwire/Sosa love fest was “saving the game” in 1998? Where was his outrage in the ensuing years when home run totals piled up faster than Andruw Jones’ excess pounds? Why wasn’t he saying then that the union refused to implement a testing program? Why wasn’t he fighting with the same tenacity he is showing now to keep the sport he ran from becoming a cesspool of drug addicts and freak-show performers? Sellout said Monday, “I don’t want to hear the commissioner turned a blind eye to this or he didn’t care about it.” Oh, you don’t? Well, then buy some of those high-priced earplugs rock musicians use, Bud, because you’re in for a crapstorm.
Sellout punked out with BALCO Bonds, refusing to take a stand either way on his pursuit of Hank Aaron’s record. He partied like a rap star as McGwire and Sosa injected their way to long-ball heaven. And only when the evidence became too overwhelming to ignore did he get serious about instituting a drug policy. Funny how the players’ association became a lot more malleable once it saw the public was irate over the steroid use. Think testing would have arrived earlier had Sellout pointed some bloodhound journalists to the smoking syringes back in the late ‘90s? You betcha.
So, stop with the outrage, Bud. Don’t tell us how far the sport has come, because it started in a performance-enhanced abyss created by your lack of leadership. For once during your tenure, have the cajones to admit you were wrong about the whole thing. Then again, since Sellout was part of the whole steroid era, it’s possible that part of his anatomy shrunk, just like those of the juicers he worked to protect.
Then again, maybe he didn’t have any in the first place.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Great work by Me-Mac, allowing news of his season-ending knee surgery to get out through Stephen Naismith, rather than the Rockets. He is seriously injured, but once again the man came up small, just as he has repeatedly during the post-season. He thinks he’s an elite player in the league, but he’ll find out in ’10 that the market for selfish, injury-prone gunners isn’t too robust…Michigan’s Fab Five has announced it will reunite at a Detroit casino as part of the Final Four in April. Wonder who came up with the appearance money for them, now that Ed Martin isn’t around anymore…The Wisconsin Supreme Court ruled last week that cheerleading is a “contact sport,” and that participants who are hurt cannot sue teammates whose actions lead to the injuries. In a related story, the Missouri Supreme Court ruled that the WNBA has been reclassified as a narcotic sleep aid…In an effort to cut runaway costs, the Ohio State football team is considering traveling to at least one game by bus this season. To make up for the horrible inconvenience, Buckeye administrators have promised the players won’t have to go to class that week. Oh, wait. You mean? Never mind.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? It may not sit too well with the legions of McNabb haters out there, but the Eagles are showing good judgment and surprising long-view thinking by opening negotiations with Donovan McNabb for a contract extension. McNabb is not perfect, and his lack of a signature, big-game comeback clouds his legacy in town, but he is light years beyond Kevin Kolb and far better than any other quarterback available right now. The Eagles need to re-sign him and then get to work on upgrading the other parts of their offense – O line, running back depth, big-play receiver. The onus remains on McNabb to lead the way and prove he is a championship passer, but throughout his Eagles career, he has proven to be a consistent winner and big producer. That may not be enough for some, but it’s plenty for those who understand that throwing away quality with no reasonable upgrade in sight is bad business. By the way, the list of NFL QBs better than McNabb is pretty darn short: (in no particular order) Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, Ben Roethlisberger, Kurt Warner.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Tiger Woods’ caddie Steve Williams took time off from lobbing cheap shots at Phil Mickelson to predict that his boss might be back on the links as early as a “few weeks” from now. That’s great news for the PGA, which has become as relevant as biathlon during Woods’ recuperation from knee surgery. If you want to see the most compelling argument against Woods as the undisputed greatest golfer of all time, check out the leader board at this week’s PGA event in Los Angeles. You half expect to see Judge Smails and Ty Webb near the top, because the rest of the crew is so weak. Not quite what Jack Nicklaus had to deal with when Tom Watson, Gary Player, Lee Trevino and the like were challenging him. Still, expect Woods’ media cheerleaders to chart his comeback with breathless enthusiasm and continue to stoke the legend machine of their hero.
-EH-
With so much going on in the world of sports, from the negotiations to broadcast NASCAR’s weekly drama on the Soap Opera Network, to the contrived excitement of the NBA Slam Dunk Contest and Sheriff Buford T. Justice’s inability to make drug charges stick against Snoop Phelps, there was absolutely no reason to join the hysterical media chorus about Alex Rodriguez, his young and stupid cousin and their Cream of Cheat. Why not talk about how NFL Network draft analyst Mike Mayock is going to go nuts over some offensive lineman’s hip drop at this weekend’s Scouting Combine? Or whether Texas Tech actually thinks it can fire its wildly successful head coach and still lure 50,000 people out to the west Texas scrub every other Saturday.
That will all have to wait, and all because of an e-mail sent to me by an esteemed national radio host. Attached to it was a blog post by a Milwaukee talker with the sporting eye of an 80-year old double-cataract myope. This genius has decided that he is the smartest guy in the country, because he has defended Bud Sellout all along, and now he has been vindicated. This is a transparent case of Bratwurst City brotherhood, since Sellout is a former snake oil salesman, er, car dealer from Sudstown. And even though anyone who can honestly say the steroid mess in baseball can be blamed on everybody but the man in charge, is clearly in need of a refresher course on logic, El Hombre is steamed.
Looking for villains in this mess is like trying to find evidence of Mickey Rourke’s hard life and bad career decisions on his battered face. They are everywhere. And blaming Sellout for the whole mess is unfair. Without the strong supporting work of union goons Donald Fehr and Gene Ozra, baseball’s drug mess never could have erupted like the acne on Jose Canseco’s back. Without the willingness of players to risk their long-term health by taking everything from testosterone to infertility drugs to pills designed to fight narcolepsy, the game wouldn’t have been soiled like the Suleman octuplets’ diapers. And without a hero-worshipping group of fans and media, who marveled at the long-ball numbers being cranked out by power-hitting laboratory mutants, the game’s credibility wouldn’t be suffering worse than Joaquin Phoenix’s.
The word is conspiracy, and we were all in on it, at least for a while. And if we’re all guilty in some way, then Sellout is especially culpable, because he was in charge. There was a lot to dislike about Uberfuhrer Steinbrenner during his rein of terror atop the Yankee organization, but he got one thing right from the start: If you want to be the boss, you have to make the difficult decisions and stand by them. That’s what people in charge do. They face down the tough situations, choose to act and then withstand the inevitable criticism. They set the pace and then remain strong when others launch bombs at them. What do you think would have happened in London during WWII if Winston Churchill had remained sequestered in a bunker, when Nazi bombs were pelting every house and pub night after night? There would have been chaos and despair. Instead, Churchill surveyed the wreckage daily, promised things would change and endured the barbs of those who insisted it was his mismanagement that allowed the mess to take place. That’s leadership.
What we have now from Sellout is a cowardice that worsens daily. The commissioner has decided that he is not only innocent of all charges being brought against him in the court of public opinion, but that he needs to convince us that everybody else is guilty. There hasn’t been a leadership breech this grotesque since Neville Chamberlain decided Hitler wasn’t such a bad guy after all and surrendered much of Europe to the tyrant in a quest for “peace in our time.” Sellout is in full sprint, dashing away from his responsibilities as a leader, one of which is accepting the blame for previous mistakes.
The worst part of Sellout’s recent defense strategy is his outrage. How dare he take offense at those who accuse him of ineffectiveness and complicity during the past decade-plus? Where was his voice when the McGwire/Sosa love fest was “saving the game” in 1998? Where was his outrage in the ensuing years when home run totals piled up faster than Andruw Jones’ excess pounds? Why wasn’t he saying then that the union refused to implement a testing program? Why wasn’t he fighting with the same tenacity he is showing now to keep the sport he ran from becoming a cesspool of drug addicts and freak-show performers? Sellout said Monday, “I don’t want to hear the commissioner turned a blind eye to this or he didn’t care about it.” Oh, you don’t? Well, then buy some of those high-priced earplugs rock musicians use, Bud, because you’re in for a crapstorm.
Sellout punked out with BALCO Bonds, refusing to take a stand either way on his pursuit of Hank Aaron’s record. He partied like a rap star as McGwire and Sosa injected their way to long-ball heaven. And only when the evidence became too overwhelming to ignore did he get serious about instituting a drug policy. Funny how the players’ association became a lot more malleable once it saw the public was irate over the steroid use. Think testing would have arrived earlier had Sellout pointed some bloodhound journalists to the smoking syringes back in the late ‘90s? You betcha.
So, stop with the outrage, Bud. Don’t tell us how far the sport has come, because it started in a performance-enhanced abyss created by your lack of leadership. For once during your tenure, have the cajones to admit you were wrong about the whole thing. Then again, since Sellout was part of the whole steroid era, it’s possible that part of his anatomy shrunk, just like those of the juicers he worked to protect.
Then again, maybe he didn’t have any in the first place.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Great work by Me-Mac, allowing news of his season-ending knee surgery to get out through Stephen Naismith, rather than the Rockets. He is seriously injured, but once again the man came up small, just as he has repeatedly during the post-season. He thinks he’s an elite player in the league, but he’ll find out in ’10 that the market for selfish, injury-prone gunners isn’t too robust…Michigan’s Fab Five has announced it will reunite at a Detroit casino as part of the Final Four in April. Wonder who came up with the appearance money for them, now that Ed Martin isn’t around anymore…The Wisconsin Supreme Court ruled last week that cheerleading is a “contact sport,” and that participants who are hurt cannot sue teammates whose actions lead to the injuries. In a related story, the Missouri Supreme Court ruled that the WNBA has been reclassified as a narcotic sleep aid…In an effort to cut runaway costs, the Ohio State football team is considering traveling to at least one game by bus this season. To make up for the horrible inconvenience, Buckeye administrators have promised the players won’t have to go to class that week. Oh, wait. You mean? Never mind.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? It may not sit too well with the legions of McNabb haters out there, but the Eagles are showing good judgment and surprising long-view thinking by opening negotiations with Donovan McNabb for a contract extension. McNabb is not perfect, and his lack of a signature, big-game comeback clouds his legacy in town, but he is light years beyond Kevin Kolb and far better than any other quarterback available right now. The Eagles need to re-sign him and then get to work on upgrading the other parts of their offense – O line, running back depth, big-play receiver. The onus remains on McNabb to lead the way and prove he is a championship passer, but throughout his Eagles career, he has proven to be a consistent winner and big producer. That may not be enough for some, but it’s plenty for those who understand that throwing away quality with no reasonable upgrade in sight is bad business. By the way, the list of NFL QBs better than McNabb is pretty darn short: (in no particular order) Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, Ben Roethlisberger, Kurt Warner.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Tiger Woods’ caddie Steve Williams took time off from lobbing cheap shots at Phil Mickelson to predict that his boss might be back on the links as early as a “few weeks” from now. That’s great news for the PGA, which has become as relevant as biathlon during Woods’ recuperation from knee surgery. If you want to see the most compelling argument against Woods as the undisputed greatest golfer of all time, check out the leader board at this week’s PGA event in Los Angeles. You half expect to see Judge Smails and Ty Webb near the top, because the rest of the crew is so weak. Not quite what Jack Nicklaus had to deal with when Tom Watson, Gary Player, Lee Trevino and the like were challenging him. Still, expect Woods’ media cheerleaders to chart his comeback with breathless enthusiasm and continue to stoke the legend machine of their hero.
-EH-
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