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-
Friday, April 2, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Eldrick Speaks -- Again (Yawn)
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
The sporting world is much better informed about all things Eldrick after the two illuminating interviews he granted last Sunday, to ESPN and the Golf Channel. (CBS declined to participate.) Yeah, right.
By speaking with Tom Rinaldi and Kelly Tilghman, two interviewers favored by the Woods camp, the golfer did what he could to control the situation. His people had already chosen the location (Isleworth Golf and Country Club), set a time limit (five minutes for ESPN, six for TGC), mandated that the interrogators stand, face-to-face, with Woods and embargoed the release of the footage until 7:30 p.m., presumably to let Woods finish watching the NC2A tournament. Woods’ people also stipulated that the interviews would take place outside – why is anybody’s guess – but rainy weather made it impossible for that and forced the action onto a veranda.
With all of those conditions satisfied, it was up to Rinaldi and Tilghman to do their jobs. Unfortunately, neither was overly impressive. Rinaldi looked suitably serious and consulted his note cards, but he never pressed Woods on his unwillingness to discuss specific events, such as whether his wife, Elin, had indeed used his head as a substitute for a Nike One Tour golf ball. Tilghman was overly impressed with Woods’ Buddhist bracelet, a symbol of his rededication to his mother’s faith. Remember that we had never heard anything about his devotion to the Fat Man before, except as an explanation for his preternatural skills of concentration on the course.
It would have been a service to all viewers if either interviewer had thought – or been instructed by his/her superiors – to ask about whether Woods has ever used performance-enhancing drugs. While rehabilitating an injury, Woods sought the care of Dr. Anthony Galea, a Tronno-based physician who is in the middle of a maelstrom regarding his prescribing P.E.D.s to big-league ballplayers. Woods could have chosen any doctor in the U.S., because his health insurance is probably pretty darn good. Instead, he went to Canada to seek assistance from a doc who is in big trouble with the Proper Authorities. Hmmmm.
We didn’t hear anything about that, and it leads one to wonder whether the Woods folks forbade such a query or if the people at the two networks weren’t doing their jobs properly. Whatever the case, we learned nothing from the interviews. Woods was smart enough to tell us everything we already knew. He had done some bad things. Really? It was tough to tell his mother. You don’t say! He’s not sure how the fans will treat him. Perhaps, but he can guarantee reverential treatment at Augusta National next month from the stodgy coots who run the Masters and tolerate nothing short of behavior reserved for Easter Vigil Mass when the tournament comes to town. At least that’s how CBS and the sycophantic golf media, many of whom knew about Woods’ behavior but let it ride, behave.
In short, the Woods interviews were nothing short of public relations ploys to end what has become a slowing, quieting news cycle. You can’t fault the networks for jumping at the chance to speak with the golfer, since it afforded them the opportunity to promote the heck out of the event. What we can fault them for is not following up when Woods stonewalled them, for refusing to ask about Galea and for buying the Buddhist stuff without asking why we hadn’t heard so much about this religious devotion before Woods went rogue. Jailhouse conversions are nothing new, but this seems a little too contrived, even for a control freak like Woods.
Put this one in the win column for the Woods camp and get ready for the next round of silliness at Augusta. That begins April 5, when Woods will deign to speak with the mainstream media prior to competing in the Masters. It’s interesting that he chose that Monday, since it’s the beginning of baseball season and the day of the NC2A men’s hoops championship game. Some pundits have wondered whether Woods will overshadow the other sporting events that day. It’s more likely he’s hoping they will overshadow him. Think about it; dozens of journalists, TV types and columnists will be in Indianapolis to shower praise upon this year’s top student-athletes, while others will be scattered across the country in ballparks to figure out which ballplayers used their off-seasons to experiment with HGH. It’s a classic trick for those who don’t want maximum coverage for a news story and the reason why a lot of unpopular proclamations and information are given on Friday afternoon, the better to be ignored over the weekend. Woods couldn’t have done that, since he’ll be trying to make the cut at Augusta on the Friday of that week, so he picked one of the busiest news days of the year to meet the press.
The most important thing for Woods is that he is on his way back to the course, and it’s clear that the people who cover him are reverting to their pre-scandal form by affording him considerable latitude and respect. Before you know it, commentators will be gushing over his game again, and advertisers will be lining up to have him sell their products. The healing is almost completed. Woods’ participation at the Masters will take him closer to the final step in his rehabilitation.
Oprah.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The college football world was rocked Thursday by the news that the International Bowl was folding after four historic editions. For some reason, the Big Least decided that sending a team to play a MAC school in Tronno wasn’t a good idea. Fret not, America, because a Big Least rep will be part of the new Pinstripe Bowl in Yankee Stadium. Talk about an upgrade…Georgia Tech’s Paul Hewitt, a New York native, turned down the St. John’s coaching job, showing just how tough it’s going to be for the Johnnies to get back to prominence. If the locals don’t want the gig, who’s left?...If you’re not loving the NC2A tourney, then you probably root for Bill Gates and Warren Buffet to get richer. The upsets may have terrorized your office pools, but it’s been great to see the little guys stick it to the Rejection Committee by winning so many games…Ryan Leaf received 10 years probation in his drug and burglary case after a guilty plea. Hard to believe NFL types had such a hard time choosing between him and Peyton Manning back in the late ‘90s. As career train wrecks go, his has to be in consideration for biggest ever.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The anti-Donovan crowd seems closer every day to getting its wish: an end to McNabb’s tenure under center in Philadelphia. The best part? They’re delighted Kevin Kolb will be taking over, simply because he’s not Number Five. That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement of Kolb’s abilities, which frankly few can endorse given his short resume – two starts and a 1-1 record. The Eagles stunk at the end of last year because of a rotten offensive line, a defense that could not pressure the QB and a below-par secondary. McNabb wasn’t exactly channeling Johnny Unitas, but blaming him for everything is at best myopic and at worst an indictment of Philadelphia fans’ vaunted sports knowledge. McNabb will go before the 2010 season, if the price is right, and will definitely be gone before 2011 kicks off. (If it does kick off.) And if you think Kolb or just about any other QB in the league can lead the Eagles to the Super Bowl as they are presently constructed, then be sure to wait up late next Saturday night to get a good look at the Easter Bunny.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: After spending a couple months defending Boniface Meyer’s now-you-see-him, now-you-don’t, now-you-do-again behavior regarding his coaching future at Florida on the basis of his heart problems, it’s time to take off the gloves and expose the man for what he is: a two-bit bully who thinks he can do whatever he wants to whomever he wants. Meyer’s threatening, menacing approach to an Orlando Sentinel reporter who merely quoted a UF player was a disgrace and reminded El Hombre of Johnny Friendly, the waterfront hoodlum who was nothing without his cronies and guns. Meyer actually told the reporter, Jeremy Fowler, that if it had been “his son [he had quoted], [they] would be going at it right now.” All Fowler did was accurately report what Deonte Thompson said about the differences between outgoing Gator QB St. Timothy of Tebow and next year’s presumed starter, John Brantley. Because Thompson was not entirely complimentary of Meyer’s pet, the petty dictator thought Fowler’s printing of the comment would be detrimental to Tebow’s draft prospects. No, Boniface, Tebow’s awful throwing motion and wet-noodle arm strength will take care of that. You need to tell your players to stop disparaging your favorite, rather than excoriating those who quote them. Meyer’s behavior was cowardly and arrogant. He needs to issue a legitimate apology (fat chance) and remember that bullies eventually get their comeuppance, and when it happens, the whole world applauds.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: The sporting world lost one of its best comrades-in-arms last week when Jeff St. Amour passed away. Jeff was always quick with a smile, a bit of incisive sports commentary and a kind word. All you need to know about him was revealed at the end of his daughter Caitlin’s marvelous and incredibly courageous eulogy Tuesday. She said that she would finish with two of her father’s “rules.” The first was, “Never strike out looking,” and the second was, “Always finish your drink.” That was Jeff. He participated fully in life and never turned down the opportunity to have a good time. Most of all, he was a dedicated family man who loved his wife and children. As we continue on our strange and wonderful journey, we should emulate Jeff and be sure to keep swinging – and smiling.
-EH-
The sporting world is much better informed about all things Eldrick after the two illuminating interviews he granted last Sunday, to ESPN and the Golf Channel. (CBS declined to participate.) Yeah, right.
By speaking with Tom Rinaldi and Kelly Tilghman, two interviewers favored by the Woods camp, the golfer did what he could to control the situation. His people had already chosen the location (Isleworth Golf and Country Club), set a time limit (five minutes for ESPN, six for TGC), mandated that the interrogators stand, face-to-face, with Woods and embargoed the release of the footage until 7:30 p.m., presumably to let Woods finish watching the NC2A tournament. Woods’ people also stipulated that the interviews would take place outside – why is anybody’s guess – but rainy weather made it impossible for that and forced the action onto a veranda.
With all of those conditions satisfied, it was up to Rinaldi and Tilghman to do their jobs. Unfortunately, neither was overly impressive. Rinaldi looked suitably serious and consulted his note cards, but he never pressed Woods on his unwillingness to discuss specific events, such as whether his wife, Elin, had indeed used his head as a substitute for a Nike One Tour golf ball. Tilghman was overly impressed with Woods’ Buddhist bracelet, a symbol of his rededication to his mother’s faith. Remember that we had never heard anything about his devotion to the Fat Man before, except as an explanation for his preternatural skills of concentration on the course.
It would have been a service to all viewers if either interviewer had thought – or been instructed by his/her superiors – to ask about whether Woods has ever used performance-enhancing drugs. While rehabilitating an injury, Woods sought the care of Dr. Anthony Galea, a Tronno-based physician who is in the middle of a maelstrom regarding his prescribing P.E.D.s to big-league ballplayers. Woods could have chosen any doctor in the U.S., because his health insurance is probably pretty darn good. Instead, he went to Canada to seek assistance from a doc who is in big trouble with the Proper Authorities. Hmmmm.
We didn’t hear anything about that, and it leads one to wonder whether the Woods folks forbade such a query or if the people at the two networks weren’t doing their jobs properly. Whatever the case, we learned nothing from the interviews. Woods was smart enough to tell us everything we already knew. He had done some bad things. Really? It was tough to tell his mother. You don’t say! He’s not sure how the fans will treat him. Perhaps, but he can guarantee reverential treatment at Augusta National next month from the stodgy coots who run the Masters and tolerate nothing short of behavior reserved for Easter Vigil Mass when the tournament comes to town. At least that’s how CBS and the sycophantic golf media, many of whom knew about Woods’ behavior but let it ride, behave.
In short, the Woods interviews were nothing short of public relations ploys to end what has become a slowing, quieting news cycle. You can’t fault the networks for jumping at the chance to speak with the golfer, since it afforded them the opportunity to promote the heck out of the event. What we can fault them for is not following up when Woods stonewalled them, for refusing to ask about Galea and for buying the Buddhist stuff without asking why we hadn’t heard so much about this religious devotion before Woods went rogue. Jailhouse conversions are nothing new, but this seems a little too contrived, even for a control freak like Woods.
Put this one in the win column for the Woods camp and get ready for the next round of silliness at Augusta. That begins April 5, when Woods will deign to speak with the mainstream media prior to competing in the Masters. It’s interesting that he chose that Monday, since it’s the beginning of baseball season and the day of the NC2A men’s hoops championship game. Some pundits have wondered whether Woods will overshadow the other sporting events that day. It’s more likely he’s hoping they will overshadow him. Think about it; dozens of journalists, TV types and columnists will be in Indianapolis to shower praise upon this year’s top student-athletes, while others will be scattered across the country in ballparks to figure out which ballplayers used their off-seasons to experiment with HGH. It’s a classic trick for those who don’t want maximum coverage for a news story and the reason why a lot of unpopular proclamations and information are given on Friday afternoon, the better to be ignored over the weekend. Woods couldn’t have done that, since he’ll be trying to make the cut at Augusta on the Friday of that week, so he picked one of the busiest news days of the year to meet the press.
The most important thing for Woods is that he is on his way back to the course, and it’s clear that the people who cover him are reverting to their pre-scandal form by affording him considerable latitude and respect. Before you know it, commentators will be gushing over his game again, and advertisers will be lining up to have him sell their products. The healing is almost completed. Woods’ participation at the Masters will take him closer to the final step in his rehabilitation.
Oprah.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The college football world was rocked Thursday by the news that the International Bowl was folding after four historic editions. For some reason, the Big Least decided that sending a team to play a MAC school in Tronno wasn’t a good idea. Fret not, America, because a Big Least rep will be part of the new Pinstripe Bowl in Yankee Stadium. Talk about an upgrade…Georgia Tech’s Paul Hewitt, a New York native, turned down the St. John’s coaching job, showing just how tough it’s going to be for the Johnnies to get back to prominence. If the locals don’t want the gig, who’s left?...If you’re not loving the NC2A tourney, then you probably root for Bill Gates and Warren Buffet to get richer. The upsets may have terrorized your office pools, but it’s been great to see the little guys stick it to the Rejection Committee by winning so many games…Ryan Leaf received 10 years probation in his drug and burglary case after a guilty plea. Hard to believe NFL types had such a hard time choosing between him and Peyton Manning back in the late ‘90s. As career train wrecks go, his has to be in consideration for biggest ever.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The anti-Donovan crowd seems closer every day to getting its wish: an end to McNabb’s tenure under center in Philadelphia. The best part? They’re delighted Kevin Kolb will be taking over, simply because he’s not Number Five. That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement of Kolb’s abilities, which frankly few can endorse given his short resume – two starts and a 1-1 record. The Eagles stunk at the end of last year because of a rotten offensive line, a defense that could not pressure the QB and a below-par secondary. McNabb wasn’t exactly channeling Johnny Unitas, but blaming him for everything is at best myopic and at worst an indictment of Philadelphia fans’ vaunted sports knowledge. McNabb will go before the 2010 season, if the price is right, and will definitely be gone before 2011 kicks off. (If it does kick off.) And if you think Kolb or just about any other QB in the league can lead the Eagles to the Super Bowl as they are presently constructed, then be sure to wait up late next Saturday night to get a good look at the Easter Bunny.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: After spending a couple months defending Boniface Meyer’s now-you-see-him, now-you-don’t, now-you-do-again behavior regarding his coaching future at Florida on the basis of his heart problems, it’s time to take off the gloves and expose the man for what he is: a two-bit bully who thinks he can do whatever he wants to whomever he wants. Meyer’s threatening, menacing approach to an Orlando Sentinel reporter who merely quoted a UF player was a disgrace and reminded El Hombre of Johnny Friendly, the waterfront hoodlum who was nothing without his cronies and guns. Meyer actually told the reporter, Jeremy Fowler, that if it had been “his son [he had quoted], [they] would be going at it right now.” All Fowler did was accurately report what Deonte Thompson said about the differences between outgoing Gator QB St. Timothy of Tebow and next year’s presumed starter, John Brantley. Because Thompson was not entirely complimentary of Meyer’s pet, the petty dictator thought Fowler’s printing of the comment would be detrimental to Tebow’s draft prospects. No, Boniface, Tebow’s awful throwing motion and wet-noodle arm strength will take care of that. You need to tell your players to stop disparaging your favorite, rather than excoriating those who quote them. Meyer’s behavior was cowardly and arrogant. He needs to issue a legitimate apology (fat chance) and remember that bullies eventually get their comeuppance, and when it happens, the whole world applauds.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: The sporting world lost one of its best comrades-in-arms last week when Jeff St. Amour passed away. Jeff was always quick with a smile, a bit of incisive sports commentary and a kind word. All you need to know about him was revealed at the end of his daughter Caitlin’s marvelous and incredibly courageous eulogy Tuesday. She said that she would finish with two of her father’s “rules.” The first was, “Never strike out looking,” and the second was, “Always finish your drink.” That was Jeff. He participated fully in life and never turned down the opportunity to have a good time. Most of all, he was a dedicated family man who loved his wife and children. As we continue on our strange and wonderful journey, we should emulate Jeff and be sure to keep swinging – and smiling.
-EH-
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, March 12, 2010
Bursting the Bubble
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
The Connecticut women’s team’s dominance of its basketball world has been so thorough that it is causing otherwise logical people to ask questions that seem to have come directly from the lunch table at the Laughing Academy. Things like whether the Huskies could play competitive basketball against a Division I men’s team. Or a D-II club. Or even a top-shelf boys high school team. Granted, some of that curiosity stems from political correctness. And don’t discount a certain broadcast entity’s self-serving desire to promote its own programming. But the questions are out there, and they are ridiculous.
Don’t mistake this for a chauvinistic screed. UConn’s winning streak is remarkable. But even Huskies’ coach Geno Auriemma understands that his team couldn’t handle those assignments. He admits Connecticut couldn’t even hang with a WNBA team or the U.S. national women’s club, much less a men’s squad.
So, if the NC2A men’s tournament were to swell to a bloated 96 teams, there wouldn’t be room for UConn’s thresher, even if it wins 100 games in a row. Or a thousand. There would, however, be spots for Louisiana Tech and IUPUI, whatever the hell that is. And North Carolina might find a place in a come-one, come-all extravaganza. Okay, so maybe that’s a bit over the top. The Tar Heels stink. Worse, they don’t play hard.
If there were ever an argument against an idea as hare-brained and as greedy as a 96-team version of March Madness, it’s this year’s tourney “bubble.” Have you seen the thing? In years past, it has resembled the giant, glimmering orb that bore Glinda the Good Witch of the North in and out of Dorothy Gale’s Ozian reverie. This year, it looks like the by-product of a pig’s roll in a particularly fetid mud puddle. Trying to find 65 worthy teams for the tournament is a big challenge this year. Just imagine if we were figuring out who deserved the last four spots in the Orson Welles Invitational. What fun it would be discussing the relative merits of Missouri State and Portland. Talk about your drama. And what about those water cooler arguments?
VP of Sales: “How can you say Weber State belongs? They went 1-4 versus the RPI’s top 100.
Comptroller Bob: Oh, and I suppose you favor Harvard and their 274th best strength of schedule?
Heaven help the Republic if those debates are happening across the country. We’ll never get any work done. Come Sunday evening, teams such as Virginia Tech and their awful offense and Memphis and their rotten rebounding could find their ways onto seeding lines in your brackets. The “Last Four In” had better fly to their first-round sites as soon as their names are mentioned, the better to prevent anybody from noticing just how bad they are and getting some court to issue an injunction barring them from participating.
As bad as this year’s crop of at-large candidates might be, it’s nowhere near what could be soiling the tourney’s good name in a year or so. All of the arguments to expand the tournament are self-serving, from the NC2A’s desire to make more money from its TV contracts and corporate “champions” (just writing that makes El Hombre want to wash off the slime), to the coaches’ wishes to preserve their jobs through expanding the number of teams who get to boast of tourney participation. That’s the athletic equivalent of grading every test on the curve. (A big favorite during EH’s days at Eton.) So, you went 5-13 in the Big East? Hey, you still made the tournament. Here’s a set of steak knives.
The other popular argument these days, which seems to be crafted by the same BCS moneygrubbers people who spout the “Every week is a playoff” argument during college football season, is that expanding the tourney puts NC2A hoops on a more level playing ground with professional sports leagues. That camp posits that since 16 of 30 NBA teams (53.3%) and 12 of 32 NFL clubs (37.5%) qualify for the post-season, the NC2A tournament should increase its participation level, which stands at 19.1%. That’s a sound argument, until you consider that in professional leagues, the franchises are all on even footing – except for the Lions. They have the same salary restraints, except in baseball, the same money coming to them from national TV contracts and the same goals and mandates. That is absolutely not the case in the NC2A.
There are 250 schools that have no shot of winning the tournament. Ever. (And don’t try to argue that George Mason disproved that. The Patriots were the first mid-major team in 27 years to reach the Final Four.) Their budgets are nowhere near those of the big-time programs. Their resources and facilities don’t come close. Their conferences have little or no status on the national scene. You cannot argue percentages when there is a giant gap between the group of schools that have a shot at the tourney and those just hoping for a moment or two in the spotlight. If 31 at-large teams are added to the tourney, do you think we’ll see the Horizon League’s runner-up included or an 11th-place squad from the Big East? Is the regular-season champ from the MEAC that lost in its made-for-TV conference tourney going to be included, or will another ACC club get a spot? It’s big-time college sports welfare, and it will hurt an cherished sporting institution badly.
In a week, what could be the final sensible NC2A tournament will kick off. And even though there will be some schools in there with credentials shakier than those of a porn star who’s running for governor, at least they’ll all have winning records. We hope.
Meanwhile, fans of the UConn women should be patient. Their favorites will probably get in – when the tourney is expanded to 256 teams.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Ben Roethlisberger may not be guilty of sexual assault. We’ll know more when (if) he provides a DNA sample. But the Pittsburgh quarterback is guilty of serial stupidity. Don’t you think it’s time for a 28-year old multimillionaire to stop trolling college dives for companionship? Get a gun and head to the club, Benjamin. At least there you’ll be hanging with people your own age. Oh, and one more thing: If you’re going out for a night of drinking with the sorority crowd, wear something other than a T-shirt with the devil’s face on it…Eldrick Woods is close to returning to competitive golfing. But don’t expect things to change, at least on the course. The PGA will do everything possible to insulate its cash cow from the public, to the point where he may get to compete on a closed course or play his rounds on Golden Tee…In another example of its continued irrelevance on the sporting the scene, the NHL is dragging its feet about whether to ban hits to the head. At a time when the discussion about concussions has become deafening, the frozen-water crowd continues to debate whether to outlaw cheap shots. No wonder no one can find the league’s games on TV…Milton Bradley talked about how horrible the conditions were for him and other black players in Chicago, a charge Cubs GM Jim Hendry refutes. There was no doubt some racial component to the criticism Bradley received, but his production last year was poor, and for that he was criticized. For a guy now on his ninth team of an 11-year career, it would be a good idea for Bradley to “look in the mirror,” as Hendry suggested…R.I.P. Merlin Olsen.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? If Eddie Jordan isn’t fired this weekend, he’ll get axed the next. Make it through that, and he will certainly be on the bread line by late April, when the Sixers’ regular season ends. If this type of thing weren’t so commonplace in professional sports, it would be laughable. But teams have been firing coaches to cover up management mistakes for decades, so why shouldn’t Jordan get whacked for the poor jobs done by GM Ed Stefanski and executives Peter Luukko and Mr. Ed? Did Jordan hire a coach with a clear, definite system of offense that ran counter to the roster he was expected to direct? No. Did Jordan give a max contract to a forward who was expected to play one way but who had a game that was completely different, a fact that was known throughout the NBA? Nope. Further, did Jordan think it was smart to hire a coach to run a system that puts a premium on court sense, when said big-money free agent was “one of the least intuitive players in the league,” according to an NBA GM? Nyet. Did Jordan give a huge, cap-crippling contract to a player (Andre Iguodala) who didn’t deserve to be paid that much? No, sir. Did Jordan assemble a roster that had no proven point guard and then ask a coach who has a history of being tough on young players to change his style by giving the keys to the team to a rookie? Nein. Did Jordan sign a one-dimensional center to a trade-proof contract? Non. Did Jordan sign a shooter to a two-year, $13 million contract, only to find that he couldn’t shoot all that well? No, sir. Given the answers to those questions, it makes perfect sense that Jordan should be fired, since so much of the Sixers’ mess is his doing. The man is not a great coach, but this franchise’s problems, both immediate (23-41 record) and long-term (worst cap situation in the league for 2010-11) are not his fault. Too bad nobody in the organization recognizes that.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Big College Swindle mouthpiece Bill Hancock invoked the “Congress has more important things to do” cop-out when describing Capitol Hill’s inquiry into the distribution of funds by his organization. First off, that’s the last resort of people with no compelling argument on their side. It’s a wonder he didn’t say, “Nanny, nanny boo-boo” right after that. Secondly, many of the institutions our fine elected officials are investigating receive millions in state funding each year and huge dollar amounts from federal research grants. If there are fiscal monkeyshines going on within a group of those schools, then Congress absolutely should be involved, Bill. Be careful what you believe every time Hancock opens his mouth. The Big College Swindle exists to exercise sovereignty over college football bowl dough and to keep it in the hands of the biggest schools. By throwing some crumbs to Division I-A’s lesser lights, the BCS gives the illusion that it is being equitable. To give you an idea of how unfair the system is, consider that several studies have shown that a college football playoff would generate more money than the bowls. But since the proceeds from that wouldn’t be controlled by the BCS schools, rather by the NC2A, there might be a fairer sharing of the pot and therefore less money for the big boys. Hancock doesn’t want Congress involved, because it may provide a stunning first: Lawmakers agreement on something.
-EH-
The Connecticut women’s team’s dominance of its basketball world has been so thorough that it is causing otherwise logical people to ask questions that seem to have come directly from the lunch table at the Laughing Academy. Things like whether the Huskies could play competitive basketball against a Division I men’s team. Or a D-II club. Or even a top-shelf boys high school team. Granted, some of that curiosity stems from political correctness. And don’t discount a certain broadcast entity’s self-serving desire to promote its own programming. But the questions are out there, and they are ridiculous.
Don’t mistake this for a chauvinistic screed. UConn’s winning streak is remarkable. But even Huskies’ coach Geno Auriemma understands that his team couldn’t handle those assignments. He admits Connecticut couldn’t even hang with a WNBA team or the U.S. national women’s club, much less a men’s squad.
So, if the NC2A men’s tournament were to swell to a bloated 96 teams, there wouldn’t be room for UConn’s thresher, even if it wins 100 games in a row. Or a thousand. There would, however, be spots for Louisiana Tech and IUPUI, whatever the hell that is. And North Carolina might find a place in a come-one, come-all extravaganza. Okay, so maybe that’s a bit over the top. The Tar Heels stink. Worse, they don’t play hard.
If there were ever an argument against an idea as hare-brained and as greedy as a 96-team version of March Madness, it’s this year’s tourney “bubble.” Have you seen the thing? In years past, it has resembled the giant, glimmering orb that bore Glinda the Good Witch of the North in and out of Dorothy Gale’s Ozian reverie. This year, it looks like the by-product of a pig’s roll in a particularly fetid mud puddle. Trying to find 65 worthy teams for the tournament is a big challenge this year. Just imagine if we were figuring out who deserved the last four spots in the Orson Welles Invitational. What fun it would be discussing the relative merits of Missouri State and Portland. Talk about your drama. And what about those water cooler arguments?
VP of Sales: “How can you say Weber State belongs? They went 1-4 versus the RPI’s top 100.
Comptroller Bob: Oh, and I suppose you favor Harvard and their 274th best strength of schedule?
Heaven help the Republic if those debates are happening across the country. We’ll never get any work done. Come Sunday evening, teams such as Virginia Tech and their awful offense and Memphis and their rotten rebounding could find their ways onto seeding lines in your brackets. The “Last Four In” had better fly to their first-round sites as soon as their names are mentioned, the better to prevent anybody from noticing just how bad they are and getting some court to issue an injunction barring them from participating.
As bad as this year’s crop of at-large candidates might be, it’s nowhere near what could be soiling the tourney’s good name in a year or so. All of the arguments to expand the tournament are self-serving, from the NC2A’s desire to make more money from its TV contracts and corporate “champions” (just writing that makes El Hombre want to wash off the slime), to the coaches’ wishes to preserve their jobs through expanding the number of teams who get to boast of tourney participation. That’s the athletic equivalent of grading every test on the curve. (A big favorite during EH’s days at Eton.) So, you went 5-13 in the Big East? Hey, you still made the tournament. Here’s a set of steak knives.
The other popular argument these days, which seems to be crafted by the same BCS moneygrubbers people who spout the “Every week is a playoff” argument during college football season, is that expanding the tourney puts NC2A hoops on a more level playing ground with professional sports leagues. That camp posits that since 16 of 30 NBA teams (53.3%) and 12 of 32 NFL clubs (37.5%) qualify for the post-season, the NC2A tournament should increase its participation level, which stands at 19.1%. That’s a sound argument, until you consider that in professional leagues, the franchises are all on even footing – except for the Lions. They have the same salary restraints, except in baseball, the same money coming to them from national TV contracts and the same goals and mandates. That is absolutely not the case in the NC2A.
There are 250 schools that have no shot of winning the tournament. Ever. (And don’t try to argue that George Mason disproved that. The Patriots were the first mid-major team in 27 years to reach the Final Four.) Their budgets are nowhere near those of the big-time programs. Their resources and facilities don’t come close. Their conferences have little or no status on the national scene. You cannot argue percentages when there is a giant gap between the group of schools that have a shot at the tourney and those just hoping for a moment or two in the spotlight. If 31 at-large teams are added to the tourney, do you think we’ll see the Horizon League’s runner-up included or an 11th-place squad from the Big East? Is the regular-season champ from the MEAC that lost in its made-for-TV conference tourney going to be included, or will another ACC club get a spot? It’s big-time college sports welfare, and it will hurt an cherished sporting institution badly.
In a week, what could be the final sensible NC2A tournament will kick off. And even though there will be some schools in there with credentials shakier than those of a porn star who’s running for governor, at least they’ll all have winning records. We hope.
Meanwhile, fans of the UConn women should be patient. Their favorites will probably get in – when the tourney is expanded to 256 teams.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Ben Roethlisberger may not be guilty of sexual assault. We’ll know more when (if) he provides a DNA sample. But the Pittsburgh quarterback is guilty of serial stupidity. Don’t you think it’s time for a 28-year old multimillionaire to stop trolling college dives for companionship? Get a gun and head to the club, Benjamin. At least there you’ll be hanging with people your own age. Oh, and one more thing: If you’re going out for a night of drinking with the sorority crowd, wear something other than a T-shirt with the devil’s face on it…Eldrick Woods is close to returning to competitive golfing. But don’t expect things to change, at least on the course. The PGA will do everything possible to insulate its cash cow from the public, to the point where he may get to compete on a closed course or play his rounds on Golden Tee…In another example of its continued irrelevance on the sporting the scene, the NHL is dragging its feet about whether to ban hits to the head. At a time when the discussion about concussions has become deafening, the frozen-water crowd continues to debate whether to outlaw cheap shots. No wonder no one can find the league’s games on TV…Milton Bradley talked about how horrible the conditions were for him and other black players in Chicago, a charge Cubs GM Jim Hendry refutes. There was no doubt some racial component to the criticism Bradley received, but his production last year was poor, and for that he was criticized. For a guy now on his ninth team of an 11-year career, it would be a good idea for Bradley to “look in the mirror,” as Hendry suggested…R.I.P. Merlin Olsen.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? If Eddie Jordan isn’t fired this weekend, he’ll get axed the next. Make it through that, and he will certainly be on the bread line by late April, when the Sixers’ regular season ends. If this type of thing weren’t so commonplace in professional sports, it would be laughable. But teams have been firing coaches to cover up management mistakes for decades, so why shouldn’t Jordan get whacked for the poor jobs done by GM Ed Stefanski and executives Peter Luukko and Mr. Ed? Did Jordan hire a coach with a clear, definite system of offense that ran counter to the roster he was expected to direct? No. Did Jordan give a max contract to a forward who was expected to play one way but who had a game that was completely different, a fact that was known throughout the NBA? Nope. Further, did Jordan think it was smart to hire a coach to run a system that puts a premium on court sense, when said big-money free agent was “one of the least intuitive players in the league,” according to an NBA GM? Nyet. Did Jordan give a huge, cap-crippling contract to a player (Andre Iguodala) who didn’t deserve to be paid that much? No, sir. Did Jordan assemble a roster that had no proven point guard and then ask a coach who has a history of being tough on young players to change his style by giving the keys to the team to a rookie? Nein. Did Jordan sign a one-dimensional center to a trade-proof contract? Non. Did Jordan sign a shooter to a two-year, $13 million contract, only to find that he couldn’t shoot all that well? No, sir. Given the answers to those questions, it makes perfect sense that Jordan should be fired, since so much of the Sixers’ mess is his doing. The man is not a great coach, but this franchise’s problems, both immediate (23-41 record) and long-term (worst cap situation in the league for 2010-11) are not his fault. Too bad nobody in the organization recognizes that.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Big College Swindle mouthpiece Bill Hancock invoked the “Congress has more important things to do” cop-out when describing Capitol Hill’s inquiry into the distribution of funds by his organization. First off, that’s the last resort of people with no compelling argument on their side. It’s a wonder he didn’t say, “Nanny, nanny boo-boo” right after that. Secondly, many of the institutions our fine elected officials are investigating receive millions in state funding each year and huge dollar amounts from federal research grants. If there are fiscal monkeyshines going on within a group of those schools, then Congress absolutely should be involved, Bill. Be careful what you believe every time Hancock opens his mouth. The Big College Swindle exists to exercise sovereignty over college football bowl dough and to keep it in the hands of the biggest schools. By throwing some crumbs to Division I-A’s lesser lights, the BCS gives the illusion that it is being equitable. To give you an idea of how unfair the system is, consider that several studies have shown that a college football playoff would generate more money than the bowls. But since the proceeds from that wouldn’t be controlled by the BCS schools, rather by the NC2A, there might be a fairer sharing of the pot and therefore less money for the big boys. Hancock doesn’t want Congress involved, because it may provide a stunning first: Lawmakers agreement on something.
-EH-
Friday, March 5, 2010
Let's Get Ready To Rumble!
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
The clock is ticking on the first round of labor negotiations between NFL owners and league’s Players Association, and they have the potential to be as acrimonious as a chance meeting between Jim Bunning and common sense. It’s now certain the 2010 season will not feature a salary cap, the only thing ever invented that keeps Green Bay on an even footing with New York. There probably won’t be a collective bargaining agreement between the two sides in the near future. And the way things are shaping up, talks are likely to be as friendly and civil as a food fight in Miss Merrie’s pre-school lunch room.
Expecting a signed, sealed deal after such a short period of bartering is borderline crazy, since there are so many big issues to deal with, and each passing day brings more certainty that the league is looking to slap the players around as if they all played for the Detroit Lions. Despite annual revenues of about $7 billion, TV contracts that would make the International Olympic Committee envious and a seemingly endless demand for apparel and other branded items, the NFL is crying poor. It wants to knock down the amount of “gross revenues” devoted to player salaries – even though the definition of what’s in that pot is already quite fluid – and it’s trying to make contracts even less secure for athletes than before. If the owners thought they could get away with it, they would try to jam baseball’s old reserve clause into the deal, the better to rob players of their rights completely. Old False Face and Little Danny would love to have year-to-year deals for their hired hands, all the while selling piles of tickets and bloated party passes to fans who have been conditioned to worship the logo, not the player.
Anybody who followed the recent releases of top-shelf running backs throughout the league understands exactly what the owners are after. Within the span of a week, LaDainian Tomlinson, Brian Westbrook and Thomas Jones were all jettisoned by their teams, even though all had time and money left on their contracts. Part of it was the nature of life for NFL running backs, who like roasting chickens, have little plastic sticks in their backs that pop up when they are fully cooked. All three are north of 30 years old and therefore practically crippled and wheelchair-bound in the eyes of league execs. Why pay them big money for their diminishing skills when younger backs can produce nearly as well (if not better) for much less whip-out?
Such is the state of the professional football contract. And such is the cause for concern among all players. The NFL wants even more control over its labor costs, which is pretty amazing considering teams can cut players with no obligation once the guaranteed part of the contract is satisfied. No other major sport operates that way. If a baseball player signs a 5-year, $45 million contract, he gets it all, so long as he doesn’t retire or celebrate the New Year by firing a gun in a crowded nightclub. He could inject himself with HGH in the batter’s box, and it wouldn’t matter. He still gets paid. The same goes for NBA and NHL players, none of whom is protected by a particularly robust union. The NBA deal, which was forged after a historic cave-in by the drunken-sailor-spending players, allows for serial hounds like Me-Mac to get eight figures, even when they haven’t won a single playoff series during their careers. NFL players, on the other hand, have little or no leverage against the most successful league on the planet.
The good news for those who support the union’s cause is that new NFLPA president DeMaurice Smith appears to have the fortitude necessary to stand up to the greed mongers who own the teams. Smith has put the chances of a work stoppage in 2011 at “14” on a scale of 1 to 10, so maybe the players will dig in and get a fair deal. Of course, that assumes they have saved enough of their million-dollar salaries to see them through six months of labor unrest. If you’ll remember, it was a spendthrift attitude that forced NBA players to capitulate during their last work stoppage. Well, that and the Great Entourage Uprising of 1999, when dozens of hangers-on and childhood pals revolted when struggling, striking NBA players had to cut back on their cell-phone service and forced them to switch to Korbel from Cristal in the clubs. The NFL has controlled its world pretty well the past several decades, and with commissioner Paul Tagliabue, a conciliatory presence, gone and wartime consigliore Roger Goodell in the top chair, a hard line could prevail again. Whatever the case, don’t expect to see your favorite pros on the field when the 2011 starts. They’ll be too busy cracking heads at the bargaining table.
And that could be uglier than any late hit, clothesline tackle or crackback block. Players had better hope they’re able to walk away from the collision with everything intact.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Stop the presses! Cowboy Quarterback revealed that he hasn’t made up his mind yet about playing in the 2010 season! When will people stop talking to the drama queen and just wait until he shows up or doesn’t show up for training camp? It’s beyond old. This has now become part of the purview of Zahi Hawass…You have to love baseball. Nearly six months after he and his Milwaukee teammates celebrated a walk-off win over the Giants with a choreographed home-plate celebration, Brewers slugger Prince Fielder was drilled by San Francisco pitcher Barry Zito in the first inning of the teams’ Cactus League game Thursday. “My fastball was running in, and it just got away from me,” Zito said. Beautiful. The best part? Fielder took the plunking in stride. Less than a month until Opening Day…Hats off to Texas A&M-Commerce football coach Guy Morriss, who praised his players’ decision to steal all of the copies of the school’s weekly newspaper from racks around campus, after the paper ran – as is standard procedure – an article detailing one of their teammates’ arrest on drug charges. Morriss said, “I’m proud of my players for doing that. This is the best team building exercise we have ever done.” The Lions were a mediocre 5-5 last year, which for Morriss represents a huge step forward. He was a combined 27-54 during seven years at Kentucky and Baylor. Maybe his “team building exercises” should focus on blocking and tackling, rather than theft. Nice example to be setting, coach. You’re a real prize…The prigs who were upset by the Canadian women’s hockey team’s celebration after it won the gold medal need to be transported back to the Victorian Era, the better to match their hidebound values with a time period more suited to their stodgy personalities. So what if some young women’s revelry included beer and cigars – after fans had left the building? So what if an 18-year old woman drank some beer, in a province where the legal age of consumption is 19? Think that’s the first time it’s happened? Worse is that the head of the Canadian Hockey Federation (or whatever it’s called) actually apologized to the cranks for the fun. Every single day in Canada includes beer and cigars, so what’s the big deal? Here’s hoping the nasty whiners all get eaten by polar bears. (Just kidding. Sort of.)
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? El Hombre has always been of the opinion that Allen Iverson’s NBA tenure has been characterized by a sad waste of his talent, which likely would have produced a championship had it been used for good, rather than his own self-aggrandizement. That said, there is no joy in the news of the past week, which included reports of Iverson’s removal from the NBA world for the rest of the season – due to the continued illness of his daughter – the divorce papers filed by his wife, Tawanna, and reports that the mercurial guard has been battling gambling and alcohol demons for quite a while. Although it was tough to watch the remarkable talent prefer scoring over team play while in his prime, these dispatches are quite disturbing. One hopes they don’t presage a post-retirement catastrophe, in which a man who once had everything is laid low by an inability to handle the end of the line. Never one for off-season conditioning, Iverson always relied on his rare skills to carry him. Now that he is older, slower and fighting injuries, he doesn’t have the history or predisposition to overcome nature’s cruelties with hard work. As a result, his last days in the NBA will be remembered for controversy (in Denver and Detroit) and atrophy (Philadelphia, Part II), rather than triumph. If this is indeed it for Iverson, let’s hope he can forge a successful second chapter and that his daughter’s good health returns.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: It’s conference championship time once again, and that means the annual diatribe against the concept in general, which renders an entire regular season of play meaningless as leagues chase two hours of TV time during a four-day single-elimination format designed to punish their best teams. What could be worse than trampling one’s peers for two months, only to go cold for a game and lose the opportunity to play in the NC2A tourney, all so the league office can bask in espn’s annual dispatch from its corner of the world? It’s awful, and it isn’t fair. But that’s the contrived nature of college basketball these days. And, coming soon to a couch near you: The new, 96-team tournament, an idea that will make New Coke and the Germans’ decision to wage WWII on two fronts look like great decisions. Thank goodness for the Ivies, who choose their champion the proper way. Then again, what do those eggheads know, anyway?
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It makes El Hombre truly sad to report that loyal reader and bon vivant Jeff St. Amour is fighting a rival tougher than any curveball he ever faced. Jeff, a great fan of Villanova, devoted father and husband, sharp businessman and great friend, has some steep odds stacked against him. But if his resolve is anything like his engaging personality and that boyish twinkle in his eyes, he’s a good bet in this scrap. When you hit your knees, send one up to the Big Skipper for Jeff. He will certainly appreciate it. Here’s to you, Jeff. You have a lot of people pulling for you.
-EH-
The clock is ticking on the first round of labor negotiations between NFL owners and league’s Players Association, and they have the potential to be as acrimonious as a chance meeting between Jim Bunning and common sense. It’s now certain the 2010 season will not feature a salary cap, the only thing ever invented that keeps Green Bay on an even footing with New York. There probably won’t be a collective bargaining agreement between the two sides in the near future. And the way things are shaping up, talks are likely to be as friendly and civil as a food fight in Miss Merrie’s pre-school lunch room.
Expecting a signed, sealed deal after such a short period of bartering is borderline crazy, since there are so many big issues to deal with, and each passing day brings more certainty that the league is looking to slap the players around as if they all played for the Detroit Lions. Despite annual revenues of about $7 billion, TV contracts that would make the International Olympic Committee envious and a seemingly endless demand for apparel and other branded items, the NFL is crying poor. It wants to knock down the amount of “gross revenues” devoted to player salaries – even though the definition of what’s in that pot is already quite fluid – and it’s trying to make contracts even less secure for athletes than before. If the owners thought they could get away with it, they would try to jam baseball’s old reserve clause into the deal, the better to rob players of their rights completely. Old False Face and Little Danny would love to have year-to-year deals for their hired hands, all the while selling piles of tickets and bloated party passes to fans who have been conditioned to worship the logo, not the player.
Anybody who followed the recent releases of top-shelf running backs throughout the league understands exactly what the owners are after. Within the span of a week, LaDainian Tomlinson, Brian Westbrook and Thomas Jones were all jettisoned by their teams, even though all had time and money left on their contracts. Part of it was the nature of life for NFL running backs, who like roasting chickens, have little plastic sticks in their backs that pop up when they are fully cooked. All three are north of 30 years old and therefore practically crippled and wheelchair-bound in the eyes of league execs. Why pay them big money for their diminishing skills when younger backs can produce nearly as well (if not better) for much less whip-out?
Such is the state of the professional football contract. And such is the cause for concern among all players. The NFL wants even more control over its labor costs, which is pretty amazing considering teams can cut players with no obligation once the guaranteed part of the contract is satisfied. No other major sport operates that way. If a baseball player signs a 5-year, $45 million contract, he gets it all, so long as he doesn’t retire or celebrate the New Year by firing a gun in a crowded nightclub. He could inject himself with HGH in the batter’s box, and it wouldn’t matter. He still gets paid. The same goes for NBA and NHL players, none of whom is protected by a particularly robust union. The NBA deal, which was forged after a historic cave-in by the drunken-sailor-spending players, allows for serial hounds like Me-Mac to get eight figures, even when they haven’t won a single playoff series during their careers. NFL players, on the other hand, have little or no leverage against the most successful league on the planet.
The good news for those who support the union’s cause is that new NFLPA president DeMaurice Smith appears to have the fortitude necessary to stand up to the greed mongers who own the teams. Smith has put the chances of a work stoppage in 2011 at “14” on a scale of 1 to 10, so maybe the players will dig in and get a fair deal. Of course, that assumes they have saved enough of their million-dollar salaries to see them through six months of labor unrest. If you’ll remember, it was a spendthrift attitude that forced NBA players to capitulate during their last work stoppage. Well, that and the Great Entourage Uprising of 1999, when dozens of hangers-on and childhood pals revolted when struggling, striking NBA players had to cut back on their cell-phone service and forced them to switch to Korbel from Cristal in the clubs. The NFL has controlled its world pretty well the past several decades, and with commissioner Paul Tagliabue, a conciliatory presence, gone and wartime consigliore Roger Goodell in the top chair, a hard line could prevail again. Whatever the case, don’t expect to see your favorite pros on the field when the 2011 starts. They’ll be too busy cracking heads at the bargaining table.
And that could be uglier than any late hit, clothesline tackle or crackback block. Players had better hope they’re able to walk away from the collision with everything intact.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Stop the presses! Cowboy Quarterback revealed that he hasn’t made up his mind yet about playing in the 2010 season! When will people stop talking to the drama queen and just wait until he shows up or doesn’t show up for training camp? It’s beyond old. This has now become part of the purview of Zahi Hawass…You have to love baseball. Nearly six months after he and his Milwaukee teammates celebrated a walk-off win over the Giants with a choreographed home-plate celebration, Brewers slugger Prince Fielder was drilled by San Francisco pitcher Barry Zito in the first inning of the teams’ Cactus League game Thursday. “My fastball was running in, and it just got away from me,” Zito said. Beautiful. The best part? Fielder took the plunking in stride. Less than a month until Opening Day…Hats off to Texas A&M-Commerce football coach Guy Morriss, who praised his players’ decision to steal all of the copies of the school’s weekly newspaper from racks around campus, after the paper ran – as is standard procedure – an article detailing one of their teammates’ arrest on drug charges. Morriss said, “I’m proud of my players for doing that. This is the best team building exercise we have ever done.” The Lions were a mediocre 5-5 last year, which for Morriss represents a huge step forward. He was a combined 27-54 during seven years at Kentucky and Baylor. Maybe his “team building exercises” should focus on blocking and tackling, rather than theft. Nice example to be setting, coach. You’re a real prize…The prigs who were upset by the Canadian women’s hockey team’s celebration after it won the gold medal need to be transported back to the Victorian Era, the better to match their hidebound values with a time period more suited to their stodgy personalities. So what if some young women’s revelry included beer and cigars – after fans had left the building? So what if an 18-year old woman drank some beer, in a province where the legal age of consumption is 19? Think that’s the first time it’s happened? Worse is that the head of the Canadian Hockey Federation (or whatever it’s called) actually apologized to the cranks for the fun. Every single day in Canada includes beer and cigars, so what’s the big deal? Here’s hoping the nasty whiners all get eaten by polar bears. (Just kidding. Sort of.)
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? El Hombre has always been of the opinion that Allen Iverson’s NBA tenure has been characterized by a sad waste of his talent, which likely would have produced a championship had it been used for good, rather than his own self-aggrandizement. That said, there is no joy in the news of the past week, which included reports of Iverson’s removal from the NBA world for the rest of the season – due to the continued illness of his daughter – the divorce papers filed by his wife, Tawanna, and reports that the mercurial guard has been battling gambling and alcohol demons for quite a while. Although it was tough to watch the remarkable talent prefer scoring over team play while in his prime, these dispatches are quite disturbing. One hopes they don’t presage a post-retirement catastrophe, in which a man who once had everything is laid low by an inability to handle the end of the line. Never one for off-season conditioning, Iverson always relied on his rare skills to carry him. Now that he is older, slower and fighting injuries, he doesn’t have the history or predisposition to overcome nature’s cruelties with hard work. As a result, his last days in the NBA will be remembered for controversy (in Denver and Detroit) and atrophy (Philadelphia, Part II), rather than triumph. If this is indeed it for Iverson, let’s hope he can forge a successful second chapter and that his daughter’s good health returns.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: It’s conference championship time once again, and that means the annual diatribe against the concept in general, which renders an entire regular season of play meaningless as leagues chase two hours of TV time during a four-day single-elimination format designed to punish their best teams. What could be worse than trampling one’s peers for two months, only to go cold for a game and lose the opportunity to play in the NC2A tourney, all so the league office can bask in espn’s annual dispatch from its corner of the world? It’s awful, and it isn’t fair. But that’s the contrived nature of college basketball these days. And, coming soon to a couch near you: The new, 96-team tournament, an idea that will make New Coke and the Germans’ decision to wage WWII on two fronts look like great decisions. Thank goodness for the Ivies, who choose their champion the proper way. Then again, what do those eggheads know, anyway?
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It makes El Hombre truly sad to report that loyal reader and bon vivant Jeff St. Amour is fighting a rival tougher than any curveball he ever faced. Jeff, a great fan of Villanova, devoted father and husband, sharp businessman and great friend, has some steep odds stacked against him. But if his resolve is anything like his engaging personality and that boyish twinkle in his eyes, he’s a good bet in this scrap. When you hit your knees, send one up to the Big Skipper for Jeff. He will certainly appreciate it. Here’s to you, Jeff. You have a lot of people pulling for you.
-EH-
Friday, February 12, 2010
Winter Wonderland
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
For a lot of people, the Winter Olympics consist primarily of hundreds of anonymous people with too many consonants in their names hurtling down frozen patches of earth in a collective attempt to avoid serious injury. Maddening cowbells and silly horns provide a cacophonous soundtrack to the outdoor insanity, and when the action moves inside, fans can count on gushing skating commentators and curling analysts talking about a sport that few understand. To many, the saving grace is ice hockey that actually means something, substituting for that mid-season clash between the Predators and Blue Jackets.
Welcome to Vancouver, 2010.
That, of course, is an oversimplified view of the Games, which debut Friday and will for two weeks provide NBC and its sister networks with some programming people will actually want to watch. There will be some compelling theater, as there is whenever elite athletes gather. The problem is that U.S. competitors can be eliminated right now from medal contention in dozens of events, including mostly anything with a sled, ski or gun. Oh, Lindsay Vonn ought to have strong showings in the downhill and something called the super giant slalom, provided the painkillers work, and there’s a chance the two-woman bobsled team of Shauna Rohbock and Michelle Rzepka could find its way onto the medal stand. But if you want to wave the Stars and Stripes proudly and tear up as a countryman (or woman) accepts a medal, better pay attention to the skating and X Games events, which seem to have been added just to pump up the U.S. win total.
With all of that in mind, here are a few storylines to consider before the flame is lit.
White Out: Looks like they should have held the Olympics in Washington D.C., since the nation’s capital has endured something like 300 inches of snow in the last five days, while Vancouver has to truck the stuff in from Saskatoon. They’ll be able to freeze up the downhill with no problems, but the freestyle crowd might have some sloppy conditions. Like, bummer, dude.
Stone Groove: Nobody really understands curling, but after the Turin Games in ’06, everybody was talking about it. Usually, the only time we hear about big stones moving is during an avalanche, so it’s refreshing to see them being controlled, albeit by frenzied sweepers, as thousands of Europeans cheer the come-arounds and double-takeouts and hope the Schnapps doesn’t run out if there are extra ends.
Skeleton Crew: Bobsled is crazy, and luge is nuts. But for true lunacy, check out skeleton, in which adrenalin junkies endure 5Gs of force while careering down an icy tunnel at up to 60 mph on a piece of steel and plastic that has no steering mechanism or brakes. What’s next, being shot out of a cannon down the bobsled run?
National Pride: There is no truth to the rumor that if the Canadian men’s hockey team doesn’t win the gold medal, its members will be summarily executed by a group of deranged Mounties. But should the home team fail, there will no doubt be pitchforks and torches outside the team hotel. And should the Russians apply the final indignity, expect the country to slip into a depression that no amount of Molson and back bacon can cure.
Vonn-derful World: Lindsey Vonn had everything in place for the perfect 21st century Olympic bonanza. She had the suggestive SI cover, the appearance in the same magazine’s swimsuit extravaganza, more endorsements than Air Jordan had in his prime and a strong resume. All she needed were some gold medals around her neck, and she was headed for Phelpstown – without the bong. But along came a minor distract-shin. Vonn’s pre-Olympic shin injury has threatened it all and could send her back to the anonymity of the European ski circuit and its Tyrolean cowbell ringers. Vonn had better find a magical elixir for the injury, before Americans find some cute, young figure skater upon whom they can shower their affection and dollars.
Dopes: The first blade hasn’t even been put to ice in earnest, and already up to 30 athletes have been disqualified from the Games for positive tests for performance-enhancing drugs. Unbelievable. Vancouver tries to stage the Olympics, and a late-‘90s baseball game breaks out. It would be tempting to see whether one of the cheats is Balco Bonds, but he is likely in the clear, since it would impossible to find equipment that would fit him. Imagine how big his bobsled helmet would have to be. And no company makes skis long enough for his unnaturally huge feet. The names of the offenders have not been released, so rumors that every one is a member of a former Eastern Bloc country can’t be substantiated.
Blades of Glory: The featured events of the Olympics, at least for those who pay little attention to sports the other three-
plus years of the Games’ cycle, are the figure skating competitions. While other competitions are sponsored by sports drinks, cars and beer, skating’s commercial roster includes Dove Moisturizing System II, Monistat 21st Century and Massengill Fruit Sensations. There’s nothing better than a bunch of guys in tuxedos gushing over Svetlana’s triple salchow and then waiting anxiously to find out whether the miserable French judge is still furious over having her Olympic hopes dashed back in Innsbruck. Skating is shown in prime time, is treated like a debutante ball and pulls in huge ratings. Expect the Russians and Asians to dominate and pray that this is the year one of the men’s pairs competitors actually launches his partner over the boards during the freestyle competition.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: St. Louis Cardinals officials announced earlier this week that new hitting coach Muscles McGwire will answer no questions about the PEDs he pumped into his system while shattering records and ruining baseball’s reputation. Fine. Here’s a request for no media member to speak to him, write about him or mention his name on TV or radio. If he’s trying to sanitize his name for future Hall of Fame consideration (Ha!), let him do it by himself…Speaking of atrocities against America’s pastime, the Milwaukee Brewers are going to erect a statue of Bud Sellout outside their stadium, next to sculptures of Hank Aaron and Robin Yount. What’s next, a mural of the Black Sox outside new Comiskey? Or perhaps a monument to the 1962 New York Mets? If the Brewers insist on commemorating Sellout, make sure the statue depicts him doing what he did best: lying about his role in the steroid era…Danica Patrick makes her official NASCAR debut this Sunday in the Daytona 500, which ought to create questions among the Billy Bob set. For instance, do her fans have to get bikini waxes, instead of shaving her car’s number into their back hair? And what happens if she wins a race before Dale, Jr. – like everybody else has? Tough questions, but that’s what makes stock car racing such a great “sport.”…The NBA All-Star Layup Lines take place Sunday, but the real news in the sport is next Thursday’s trade deadline. Deals are already percolating, with the most popular a rumored three-way swap involving Problem Child, Ugly Contract and Unfulfilled Potential.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Phillies pitchers and catchers report to Clearwater next Wednesday, and that’s good news for those who are sick of digging out from under more snow than Tony Montana used to sling back in the day. But the level of excitement that should accompany the start of a season that could feature a third consecutive World Series appearance has been diluted by the fact that the organization refused to make the power move that would have given the Phils the best rotation in baseball. No matter how good Roy Halladay promises to be, the thought of pairing him and Cliff Lee atop the team’s starters is too tough to eliminate from fans’ minds, especially since none of the three minor-leaguers acquired for Lee is considered to be a future star. So what if Lee pitched one year and left in free agency? At least the Phils would have had him and Halladay together for 162 games – with Cole Hamels in the no-pressure number three spot. Instead of giving fans that, the team tried to jam a story down their throats that the farm stocks had to be replenished for future success. Horse manure! It was a money decision, and that’s it. The team didn’t want to pay Lee $9 million this year, didn’t want to lose him for nothing after the season and was afraid of being painted as cheapskates by not making a strong move for him in free agency next winter. There is still a lot to be excited about for the team, but Lee’s absence tempers the enthusiasm, and that’s a damn shame.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The tears of joy were barely dry in New Orleans this week when the NFL’s perpetual news cycle sprang to life with rumors about possible trades, speculation about the free agent pool, worries about a potential work stoppage in 2011 and an avalanche of mock drafts. Behold the magic of the world’s most potent sports juggernaut. Even though March Madness looms, exhibition baseball games begin in fewer than three weeks, and the NBA is working overtime to promote itself, nothing can top the NFL, which has perfected the art of attracting off-season attention. Since fans are forced to wait six-plus long months until the next regular-season concussion, the league needs to prime the pump. And prime it the NFL does. Next up is free agency. Then the Draft. Mini-camps and OTAs are always good for drama. And the one month before training camp that used to be quiet time is now consumed with rumors about Cowboy Quarterback’s angst-filled decision-making process. When labor negotiations commence in earnest, the league will try to chop the players’ share of revenues from 59% to about 41%, crying poor the whole time. Don’t believe a word of it. The NFL is flush with cash, and its bottom line only getting bigger. Over the next few months, you’ll see why.
-EH-
For a lot of people, the Winter Olympics consist primarily of hundreds of anonymous people with too many consonants in their names hurtling down frozen patches of earth in a collective attempt to avoid serious injury. Maddening cowbells and silly horns provide a cacophonous soundtrack to the outdoor insanity, and when the action moves inside, fans can count on gushing skating commentators and curling analysts talking about a sport that few understand. To many, the saving grace is ice hockey that actually means something, substituting for that mid-season clash between the Predators and Blue Jackets.
Welcome to Vancouver, 2010.
That, of course, is an oversimplified view of the Games, which debut Friday and will for two weeks provide NBC and its sister networks with some programming people will actually want to watch. There will be some compelling theater, as there is whenever elite athletes gather. The problem is that U.S. competitors can be eliminated right now from medal contention in dozens of events, including mostly anything with a sled, ski or gun. Oh, Lindsay Vonn ought to have strong showings in the downhill and something called the super giant slalom, provided the painkillers work, and there’s a chance the two-woman bobsled team of Shauna Rohbock and Michelle Rzepka could find its way onto the medal stand. But if you want to wave the Stars and Stripes proudly and tear up as a countryman (or woman) accepts a medal, better pay attention to the skating and X Games events, which seem to have been added just to pump up the U.S. win total.
With all of that in mind, here are a few storylines to consider before the flame is lit.
White Out: Looks like they should have held the Olympics in Washington D.C., since the nation’s capital has endured something like 300 inches of snow in the last five days, while Vancouver has to truck the stuff in from Saskatoon. They’ll be able to freeze up the downhill with no problems, but the freestyle crowd might have some sloppy conditions. Like, bummer, dude.
Stone Groove: Nobody really understands curling, but after the Turin Games in ’06, everybody was talking about it. Usually, the only time we hear about big stones moving is during an avalanche, so it’s refreshing to see them being controlled, albeit by frenzied sweepers, as thousands of Europeans cheer the come-arounds and double-takeouts and hope the Schnapps doesn’t run out if there are extra ends.
Skeleton Crew: Bobsled is crazy, and luge is nuts. But for true lunacy, check out skeleton, in which adrenalin junkies endure 5Gs of force while careering down an icy tunnel at up to 60 mph on a piece of steel and plastic that has no steering mechanism or brakes. What’s next, being shot out of a cannon down the bobsled run?
National Pride: There is no truth to the rumor that if the Canadian men’s hockey team doesn’t win the gold medal, its members will be summarily executed by a group of deranged Mounties. But should the home team fail, there will no doubt be pitchforks and torches outside the team hotel. And should the Russians apply the final indignity, expect the country to slip into a depression that no amount of Molson and back bacon can cure.
Vonn-derful World: Lindsey Vonn had everything in place for the perfect 21st century Olympic bonanza. She had the suggestive SI cover, the appearance in the same magazine’s swimsuit extravaganza, more endorsements than Air Jordan had in his prime and a strong resume. All she needed were some gold medals around her neck, and she was headed for Phelpstown – without the bong. But along came a minor distract-shin. Vonn’s pre-Olympic shin injury has threatened it all and could send her back to the anonymity of the European ski circuit and its Tyrolean cowbell ringers. Vonn had better find a magical elixir for the injury, before Americans find some cute, young figure skater upon whom they can shower their affection and dollars.
Dopes: The first blade hasn’t even been put to ice in earnest, and already up to 30 athletes have been disqualified from the Games for positive tests for performance-enhancing drugs. Unbelievable. Vancouver tries to stage the Olympics, and a late-‘90s baseball game breaks out. It would be tempting to see whether one of the cheats is Balco Bonds, but he is likely in the clear, since it would impossible to find equipment that would fit him. Imagine how big his bobsled helmet would have to be. And no company makes skis long enough for his unnaturally huge feet. The names of the offenders have not been released, so rumors that every one is a member of a former Eastern Bloc country can’t be substantiated.
Blades of Glory: The featured events of the Olympics, at least for those who pay little attention to sports the other three-
plus years of the Games’ cycle, are the figure skating competitions. While other competitions are sponsored by sports drinks, cars and beer, skating’s commercial roster includes Dove Moisturizing System II, Monistat 21st Century and Massengill Fruit Sensations. There’s nothing better than a bunch of guys in tuxedos gushing over Svetlana’s triple salchow and then waiting anxiously to find out whether the miserable French judge is still furious over having her Olympic hopes dashed back in Innsbruck. Skating is shown in prime time, is treated like a debutante ball and pulls in huge ratings. Expect the Russians and Asians to dominate and pray that this is the year one of the men’s pairs competitors actually launches his partner over the boards during the freestyle competition.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: St. Louis Cardinals officials announced earlier this week that new hitting coach Muscles McGwire will answer no questions about the PEDs he pumped into his system while shattering records and ruining baseball’s reputation. Fine. Here’s a request for no media member to speak to him, write about him or mention his name on TV or radio. If he’s trying to sanitize his name for future Hall of Fame consideration (Ha!), let him do it by himself…Speaking of atrocities against America’s pastime, the Milwaukee Brewers are going to erect a statue of Bud Sellout outside their stadium, next to sculptures of Hank Aaron and Robin Yount. What’s next, a mural of the Black Sox outside new Comiskey? Or perhaps a monument to the 1962 New York Mets? If the Brewers insist on commemorating Sellout, make sure the statue depicts him doing what he did best: lying about his role in the steroid era…Danica Patrick makes her official NASCAR debut this Sunday in the Daytona 500, which ought to create questions among the Billy Bob set. For instance, do her fans have to get bikini waxes, instead of shaving her car’s number into their back hair? And what happens if she wins a race before Dale, Jr. – like everybody else has? Tough questions, but that’s what makes stock car racing such a great “sport.”…The NBA All-Star Layup Lines take place Sunday, but the real news in the sport is next Thursday’s trade deadline. Deals are already percolating, with the most popular a rumored three-way swap involving Problem Child, Ugly Contract and Unfulfilled Potential.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Phillies pitchers and catchers report to Clearwater next Wednesday, and that’s good news for those who are sick of digging out from under more snow than Tony Montana used to sling back in the day. But the level of excitement that should accompany the start of a season that could feature a third consecutive World Series appearance has been diluted by the fact that the organization refused to make the power move that would have given the Phils the best rotation in baseball. No matter how good Roy Halladay promises to be, the thought of pairing him and Cliff Lee atop the team’s starters is too tough to eliminate from fans’ minds, especially since none of the three minor-leaguers acquired for Lee is considered to be a future star. So what if Lee pitched one year and left in free agency? At least the Phils would have had him and Halladay together for 162 games – with Cole Hamels in the no-pressure number three spot. Instead of giving fans that, the team tried to jam a story down their throats that the farm stocks had to be replenished for future success. Horse manure! It was a money decision, and that’s it. The team didn’t want to pay Lee $9 million this year, didn’t want to lose him for nothing after the season and was afraid of being painted as cheapskates by not making a strong move for him in free agency next winter. There is still a lot to be excited about for the team, but Lee’s absence tempers the enthusiasm, and that’s a damn shame.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The tears of joy were barely dry in New Orleans this week when the NFL’s perpetual news cycle sprang to life with rumors about possible trades, speculation about the free agent pool, worries about a potential work stoppage in 2011 and an avalanche of mock drafts. Behold the magic of the world’s most potent sports juggernaut. Even though March Madness looms, exhibition baseball games begin in fewer than three weeks, and the NBA is working overtime to promote itself, nothing can top the NFL, which has perfected the art of attracting off-season attention. Since fans are forced to wait six-plus long months until the next regular-season concussion, the league needs to prime the pump. And prime it the NFL does. Next up is free agency. Then the Draft. Mini-camps and OTAs are always good for drama. And the one month before training camp that used to be quiet time is now consumed with rumors about Cowboy Quarterback’s angst-filled decision-making process. When labor negotiations commence in earnest, the league will try to chop the players’ share of revenues from 59% to about 41%, crying poor the whole time. Don’t believe a word of it. The NFL is flush with cash, and its bottom line only getting bigger. Over the next few months, you’ll see why.
-EH-
Friday, February 5, 2010
The Ankle Bowl
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Since Super Bowl XLIV will turn completely on the condition of Dwight Freeney’s ankle, it’s practically pointless to spend any time analyzing whether New Orleans’ defense can slow down the Colts’ passing attack, or if Reggie Bush is really going to propose to Kim Kardashian, now that the Saints have reached the Big Game.
Nope, it’s all ankle, all the time.
Tuesday, during Super Bowl media day, Freeney answered questions from reporters about the ankle, how he’s rehabbing the ankle, how the ankle feels in the morning and what he hopes will happen with the ankle. The last time people talked about a joint this much was during The Pineapple Express. Folks tried to make it about something other than Freeney’s ankle, to no avail. Chad OchoCrazy showed up with his own news network, which is kind of like the episode when the Three Stooges were doctors. Peyton Manning tried to make a joke, but his timing was off, and when the thing bombed, he blamed it on his little brother. The requisite collection of crazies, including a woman wearing a halo and a former American Midol contestant, was on hand, but nothing could top the biggest story: Will he or won’t he? Can he or can’t he? Is he or isn’t he?
The worst thing about the entire Freeney situation is that we won’t know a damn thing until he steps onto the field Sunday against the Saints. Until then, we will be subjected to an excruciating torrent of conjecture regarding how much Freeney will be able to play and what the Colts/Saints will do if he can’t go. Believe me; by the time kickoff comes around, the insanity surrounding the OchoCrazy News Network will seem like mother’s milk compared to the Freeney frenzy.
The big reason for the hysteria regarding one player’s cranky ankle is that the rest of the storylines surrounding the Super Bowl have created the same level of interest as Joe Biden’s daily schedule. Okay, okay, we get that this is a big deal for New Orleans. And that the healing from Hurricane Katrina’s devastation can continue only if every Big Easy resident is face down in a puddle of beer come Monday morning. We know that Peyton Manning is trying to cement his legacy, the better to continue his quest for domination of the advertising world. We’re cheering for Pierre Garcon and his Haitian friends and relatives to overcome the horrors of the earthquake, as if some poor guy who has lost everything in Port-au-Prince gives a rat’s backside about whether Garcon’s team wins the game.
But this is all well trod ground. About the only good stuff coming out of the run-up to the game are the comments by New Orleans defensive coordinator Gregg Williams about how his team wants to lay some “remember me” shots on Manning to make him less comfortable in the pocket. Not bad, but not enough. Where is the outrageous behavior? Where is Deion Sanders telling people that his new Lamborghini was a present from “myself to myself?” Where is Shannon Sharpe vs. Ray Buchanan, 2010 style? Why hasn’t President Obama sent one of the teams’ coaches a play he designed, as Nixon was rumored to have done before Super Bowl VII.
If the boredom generated by the pre-game run-up is any indication, we’re headed for an old-fashioned, yawner on Sunday. We’re talking Colts-Cowboys, 1971, Redskins-Dolphins, 1973 or Bucs-Raiders, 2003. Then again, perhaps the two explosive offenses are saving their pyrotechnics for the field, rather than filling up notebooks and tape recorders with inane pre-game comments. Let’s hope that’s the case, because the way this week is going is enough to make people want to watch HGTV. The only people who have it worse than the general public are the reporters who have to find something to talk or write about every day.
Fortunately, they have the old standby: Freeney’s ankle. When in doubt, talk about electronic stimulation or hyperbaric chambers, and you’ll be just fine.
Is it Sunday yet?
* * *
THE PICK: During the regular season and even the first couple rounds of the playoffs, the only wagers people care about involve the pointspread, the over/under and the money line. That’s it. The beauty of the Super Bowl is that everything is in play, from the game’s outcome to whether one of the kickers will mistake Snooki for a football and try to boot her through the uprights.
Here are this week’s picks:
Coin Flip: Heads
Times Referee Calls For a Measurement: Two
Number of Pete Townsend windmills at halftime: Seven
Oh, El Hombre almost forgot. Give the points in this one. We can talk about sympathy and heartstrings and Who Dat? but this is about the Colts’ ability to carve up a shaky Saints secondary (26th in the NFL vs. the pass). Yes, DWIGHT FREENEY’S ANKLE will be a factor, but the Indy defense will still create some trouble for the Saints’ attack. Peyton Manning gets his second Super Bowl, but please stop with the “greatest ever” talk. He still has some work to do in that department. Indianapolis 30, New Orleans 20.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Last week, the New Jersey Nets’ management enlisted a sports psychologist to help the woebegone team snap out of its historic funk. During his presentation, the hoops shrink jammed a needle into his cheek to demonstrate mental toughness. That runs counter to the actions of Nets fans, who have been sticking needles in their eyes all season…The onset of the Winter Olympics means the arrival in Vancouver of husky Russian biathlon competitors – and those are just the women – not to mention the anticipated pairs figure skating performance by fellow Russians Oksana Domnina and Maxim Shabalin, whose aboriginal routine sets new lows for international relations. (What’s next, a pair spoofing minstrel shows?) The big question facing the Games is whether anybody notices that the NHL will be shut down for two weeks.. Didn’t think so…College football signing day has come and gone, with the requisite “winners” and “losers,” not to mention the premature deification of a bunch of high schoolers. The big story, however, is that Lane Kiffin is still at USC and further that he has yet to say anything stupid, at least publicly…Break up the Twins! Buoyed by anticipated revenues from its new ballpark, Minnesota added Orlando Hudson to its lineup and is working on a megadeal for star catcher Joe Mauer. It’s amazing what a new ballpark will do for you, unless you’re Pittsburgh, of course…Kevin Durant’s recent scoring binge has been great to watch, but the best thing about the 6-9 Thunder star is that his name doesn’t lend itself to one of the lazy nicknames people confer on athletes. “K-Dur” just doesn’t cut it. Thankfully, “Durantula” does.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The fears that the Eagles hired Dick Jauron as a possible replacement for defensive coordinator Sean McDermott warrant some discussion, since McDermott wasn’t ready for the job when he took over (not his fault), and the Birds’ D did take a step back in 2009, although injuries and poor personnel decisions had more to do with the decay than McDermott’s inability to channel Jim Johnson. What is most worrisome about the move is that Andy Reid may have decided that the team’s secondary problems do not need to be fixed by talent upgrades, rather than having someone else “coach ‘em up.” Jauron certainly knows his stuff, having been a head coach, a defensive boss and a secondary tutor. But going into 2010 without another top-shelf safety and without doing something about Asante Samuel’s predilection for playing flag football would be a huge mistake, one that Jauron can’t fix by himself. McDermott should worry a little about the new arrival, but if Reid thinks the mere presence of an experience hand on the back line will overcome the ’09 problems, then Eagles fans will be the ones doing the real worrying.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The pending announcement that the NC2A is planning to opt out of the final three years of its 11-season, $6 billion contract with CBS (don’t even think it won’t happen) is scary for fans of the only part of the college basketball season that really matters – the tournament. With the call for new bids will come a tacit understanding that the NC2A is wide open to an enlarging of the tourney, a move that would ruin what may be the most perfect thing in sports and the only thing the organization does well – besides screwing its student-athletes. Greed, of course, will win out, since an expanded tourney (up to as many as 96 teams) would bring a bigger annual payday, even in this shaky climate. There are reports that CBS will partner with Turner to counter espn’s multi-platform bid and put more games on the air. Or, it could mean more weight behind a pay-per-view scenario. No one will get an argument on expansion from coaches, who want more teams in so that more coaches can protect their jobs. The real losers are the fans and the tournament itself, which has grown organically over the years and has done just well in its current form for 25 years. (Okay, so they added an extra game in ’01.) Bringing in 31 more at-large teams will dilute the tourney beyond recognition. Last year, there were maybe three or four other teams that had legitimate beefs about being excluded. And by adding another 15 games in an “opening round” format, the tourney will lose many of the mid-major and small conference teams that have made the first two rounds of the tourney so compelling over the years. Ask yourself what’s more exciting, the thought of Robert Morris’ upsetting Clemson or Seton Hall’s doing it. It’s a pretty easy question to answer. And if the expansion comes, it’s likely that plenty of the Robert Morrises of the NC2A world will be eliminated before they can take on the giants. In the end, greed will win, and the NC2A will learn eventually that it ruined a perfect thing.
-EH-
Since Super Bowl XLIV will turn completely on the condition of Dwight Freeney’s ankle, it’s practically pointless to spend any time analyzing whether New Orleans’ defense can slow down the Colts’ passing attack, or if Reggie Bush is really going to propose to Kim Kardashian, now that the Saints have reached the Big Game.
Nope, it’s all ankle, all the time.
Tuesday, during Super Bowl media day, Freeney answered questions from reporters about the ankle, how he’s rehabbing the ankle, how the ankle feels in the morning and what he hopes will happen with the ankle. The last time people talked about a joint this much was during The Pineapple Express. Folks tried to make it about something other than Freeney’s ankle, to no avail. Chad OchoCrazy showed up with his own news network, which is kind of like the episode when the Three Stooges were doctors. Peyton Manning tried to make a joke, but his timing was off, and when the thing bombed, he blamed it on his little brother. The requisite collection of crazies, including a woman wearing a halo and a former American Midol contestant, was on hand, but nothing could top the biggest story: Will he or won’t he? Can he or can’t he? Is he or isn’t he?
The worst thing about the entire Freeney situation is that we won’t know a damn thing until he steps onto the field Sunday against the Saints. Until then, we will be subjected to an excruciating torrent of conjecture regarding how much Freeney will be able to play and what the Colts/Saints will do if he can’t go. Believe me; by the time kickoff comes around, the insanity surrounding the OchoCrazy News Network will seem like mother’s milk compared to the Freeney frenzy.
The big reason for the hysteria regarding one player’s cranky ankle is that the rest of the storylines surrounding the Super Bowl have created the same level of interest as Joe Biden’s daily schedule. Okay, okay, we get that this is a big deal for New Orleans. And that the healing from Hurricane Katrina’s devastation can continue only if every Big Easy resident is face down in a puddle of beer come Monday morning. We know that Peyton Manning is trying to cement his legacy, the better to continue his quest for domination of the advertising world. We’re cheering for Pierre Garcon and his Haitian friends and relatives to overcome the horrors of the earthquake, as if some poor guy who has lost everything in Port-au-Prince gives a rat’s backside about whether Garcon’s team wins the game.
But this is all well trod ground. About the only good stuff coming out of the run-up to the game are the comments by New Orleans defensive coordinator Gregg Williams about how his team wants to lay some “remember me” shots on Manning to make him less comfortable in the pocket. Not bad, but not enough. Where is the outrageous behavior? Where is Deion Sanders telling people that his new Lamborghini was a present from “myself to myself?” Where is Shannon Sharpe vs. Ray Buchanan, 2010 style? Why hasn’t President Obama sent one of the teams’ coaches a play he designed, as Nixon was rumored to have done before Super Bowl VII.
If the boredom generated by the pre-game run-up is any indication, we’re headed for an old-fashioned, yawner on Sunday. We’re talking Colts-Cowboys, 1971, Redskins-Dolphins, 1973 or Bucs-Raiders, 2003. Then again, perhaps the two explosive offenses are saving their pyrotechnics for the field, rather than filling up notebooks and tape recorders with inane pre-game comments. Let’s hope that’s the case, because the way this week is going is enough to make people want to watch HGTV. The only people who have it worse than the general public are the reporters who have to find something to talk or write about every day.
Fortunately, they have the old standby: Freeney’s ankle. When in doubt, talk about electronic stimulation or hyperbaric chambers, and you’ll be just fine.
Is it Sunday yet?
* * *
THE PICK: During the regular season and even the first couple rounds of the playoffs, the only wagers people care about involve the pointspread, the over/under and the money line. That’s it. The beauty of the Super Bowl is that everything is in play, from the game’s outcome to whether one of the kickers will mistake Snooki for a football and try to boot her through the uprights.
Here are this week’s picks:
Coin Flip: Heads
Times Referee Calls For a Measurement: Two
Number of Pete Townsend windmills at halftime: Seven
Oh, El Hombre almost forgot. Give the points in this one. We can talk about sympathy and heartstrings and Who Dat? but this is about the Colts’ ability to carve up a shaky Saints secondary (26th in the NFL vs. the pass). Yes, DWIGHT FREENEY’S ANKLE will be a factor, but the Indy defense will still create some trouble for the Saints’ attack. Peyton Manning gets his second Super Bowl, but please stop with the “greatest ever” talk. He still has some work to do in that department. Indianapolis 30, New Orleans 20.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Last week, the New Jersey Nets’ management enlisted a sports psychologist to help the woebegone team snap out of its historic funk. During his presentation, the hoops shrink jammed a needle into his cheek to demonstrate mental toughness. That runs counter to the actions of Nets fans, who have been sticking needles in their eyes all season…The onset of the Winter Olympics means the arrival in Vancouver of husky Russian biathlon competitors – and those are just the women – not to mention the anticipated pairs figure skating performance by fellow Russians Oksana Domnina and Maxim Shabalin, whose aboriginal routine sets new lows for international relations. (What’s next, a pair spoofing minstrel shows?) The big question facing the Games is whether anybody notices that the NHL will be shut down for two weeks.. Didn’t think so…College football signing day has come and gone, with the requisite “winners” and “losers,” not to mention the premature deification of a bunch of high schoolers. The big story, however, is that Lane Kiffin is still at USC and further that he has yet to say anything stupid, at least publicly…Break up the Twins! Buoyed by anticipated revenues from its new ballpark, Minnesota added Orlando Hudson to its lineup and is working on a megadeal for star catcher Joe Mauer. It’s amazing what a new ballpark will do for you, unless you’re Pittsburgh, of course…Kevin Durant’s recent scoring binge has been great to watch, but the best thing about the 6-9 Thunder star is that his name doesn’t lend itself to one of the lazy nicknames people confer on athletes. “K-Dur” just doesn’t cut it. Thankfully, “Durantula” does.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The fears that the Eagles hired Dick Jauron as a possible replacement for defensive coordinator Sean McDermott warrant some discussion, since McDermott wasn’t ready for the job when he took over (not his fault), and the Birds’ D did take a step back in 2009, although injuries and poor personnel decisions had more to do with the decay than McDermott’s inability to channel Jim Johnson. What is most worrisome about the move is that Andy Reid may have decided that the team’s secondary problems do not need to be fixed by talent upgrades, rather than having someone else “coach ‘em up.” Jauron certainly knows his stuff, having been a head coach, a defensive boss and a secondary tutor. But going into 2010 without another top-shelf safety and without doing something about Asante Samuel’s predilection for playing flag football would be a huge mistake, one that Jauron can’t fix by himself. McDermott should worry a little about the new arrival, but if Reid thinks the mere presence of an experience hand on the back line will overcome the ’09 problems, then Eagles fans will be the ones doing the real worrying.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The pending announcement that the NC2A is planning to opt out of the final three years of its 11-season, $6 billion contract with CBS (don’t even think it won’t happen) is scary for fans of the only part of the college basketball season that really matters – the tournament. With the call for new bids will come a tacit understanding that the NC2A is wide open to an enlarging of the tourney, a move that would ruin what may be the most perfect thing in sports and the only thing the organization does well – besides screwing its student-athletes. Greed, of course, will win out, since an expanded tourney (up to as many as 96 teams) would bring a bigger annual payday, even in this shaky climate. There are reports that CBS will partner with Turner to counter espn’s multi-platform bid and put more games on the air. Or, it could mean more weight behind a pay-per-view scenario. No one will get an argument on expansion from coaches, who want more teams in so that more coaches can protect their jobs. The real losers are the fans and the tournament itself, which has grown organically over the years and has done just well in its current form for 25 years. (Okay, so they added an extra game in ’01.) Bringing in 31 more at-large teams will dilute the tourney beyond recognition. Last year, there were maybe three or four other teams that had legitimate beefs about being excluded. And by adding another 15 games in an “opening round” format, the tourney will lose many of the mid-major and small conference teams that have made the first two rounds of the tourney so compelling over the years. Ask yourself what’s more exciting, the thought of Robert Morris’ upsetting Clemson or Seton Hall’s doing it. It’s a pretty easy question to answer. And if the expansion comes, it’s likely that plenty of the Robert Morrises of the NC2A world will be eliminated before they can take on the giants. In the end, greed will win, and the NC2A will learn eventually that it ruined a perfect thing.
-EH-
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