Two Thursdays ago, I was pulled over halfway between Houston and Austin, returning home from the Lil’ Wayne show at the Toyota Center. The patrolman asked if there was a particular reason I was in such a hurry, and while he was checking my license and registration, I asked my fellow passengers what the correct answer should’ve been.
“Yes Officer, I’m in love.” was one of the better suggestions from the peanut gallery.
While I still think that was a great answer, I am thrilled to learn that Charles Barkley — even while (allegedly) drunk — is even more of a smart ass.
Promising that “you’ll be shocked” when the free market determines the scalper prices for the Great Depression of 2009’s Super Bowl, March Madness and Dayton 500, The New Republic’s Darren Rovell kids, “just wait until Fan Appreciation Night at the ballpark this fall. You might get a hug and kiss for showing up.” That’s great news for Jay “Hot Lips” Horowitz, but what about the rest of us?
This year, the Milwaukee Bucks are giving you a chance to watch the league’s top three teams–the Celtics, Cavs, and Lakers–for $69 total. (They’re even throwing in a Kareem Abdul Jabbar bobblehead.) The Atlanta Hawks are letting you pick any four games for $80, and they’ll even include a ticket to the aquarium, the zoo, and a $20 concession voucher. Other teams like the Denver Nuggets and the Orlando Magic are folding in playoff priority with these packages. Playoff priority used to be the exclusive domain of VIPS and season ticket holders, but teams are so eager for fans that if you purchase a small package of games, you’ll get a chance to nab seats to the postseason before the public does. It’s not like these teams are horrible either. Orlando and Denver both lead their divisions in the standings.
Some ticket prices are just downright stupid. The Colorado Rockies, one season removed from a World Series appearance, are selling centerfield bleacher seats to kids and seniors for $1, while the Pittsburgh Pirates will allow you to pick any ten games you want to go to (except Opening Day and the series against the Cleveland Indians) for as low as $7.20 a game. Even the NFL playoffs will be a steal. In November the league decided to discount the face value of playoff ticket prices by ten percent in the face of the economic challenges ahead.
Rovell’s general point — that recent economic upheaval has provided opportunity for sports bargain hunters — is solid enough, however we’re not hearing nearly so much about price breaks on parking and concessions. Of the many examples cited, Atlanta’s casual support of pro sports predates the current recession, and the Pirates —28th out of 30 MLB clubs in paid attendance in 2008 — might well have offered such a package even in a healthy economic climate. It’s true enough the Rockies are a season removed from an NL pennant, but next spring they’ll be a winter removed from a 74-88 finish.
(the wrong Gaylord, but a glass of white wine is a nice touch, just the same)
I’ve somehow resisted the charms of a defensive battle between Oregon State and Pitt (and to be honest Dave Wannstedt looks like he’d rather be taking himself out of contention for the Jets job than actually coaching this snoozer). Instead, the appetizer to several days of football-glug-glug-football is the 9-4 Boston College WZBC’s having a very hard time getting untracked against 6-6 Vanderbilt in the Music City Bowl. Win or lose, Buster Olney’s alma matter should be ashamed their homefield advantage extends beyond the game’s venue to the host sponsor, Gaylord Hotels, previously described by Keith Law as “Hell’s Outhouse”. If the Eagles can’t turn this one around, they’ll become the first team to lose a bowl game to Vandy since the 1955 Auburn squad that was suffered a Gator Bowl defeat.
The Detroit Free Press reported earlier this week that former Michigan defensive coordinator Scott Schafer signed an agreement precluding him from “demeaning or disparaging” the Wolverines as part of his resignation package. So much for a new career in sportswriting, then.
The NFL Network’s coverage of the Insight Bowl featuring Minnesota and Kansas just kicked off a few minutes ago, but not before what seemed like far too much face time for Jayhawks head coach Mark Mangino. The sound was turned off in the bar to accomodate the exciting throng watching an 8 day old replay of TCU’s Poinsetta Bowl victory, but I always like to imagine Mangino sounds exactly like Don Rickles’ impersonation of Marcel Marceau.
“Of all the teenage, made-for-cable, serially sponsored college football games for teams that either belly flopped in November (longtime number one Penn State in 1999, defending national champ Texas in 2006) or got jilted by a bowl older than Miley Cyrus (11-1 Kansas State in 1998), San Antonio’s indoor contest is my absolute favorite,” I wrote in Texas Monthly last month, and I guess I wasn’t kidding – Monday was my third trip to the Alamo Bowl.
Neither team fit into those categories this year, even if Mizzou was once a BCS contender. Certainly if you’d told me in September that Northwestern would hold its own against the pre-season #5, or even get a chance to play them, I would have been delighted. In the end, both schools were right where they belonged. Northwestern may have even been a little overrated, having ducked Penn State and Wisconsin this year (not that the Badgers would have necessarily beat them); at the same time, if they’d played a better game against Michigan State, they might have made it where the Spartans did, the Citrus.
Meanwhile, the Outback’s preference for Iowa, a team the Wildcats beat, was vindicated by the Alamo’s attendance, which couldn’t have been more than 45-50,000 actual (announced was 55,000+). The economy aside, it’s nothing more than math: a private school with 8100 undergraduates will only ever bring one-third to one-half the fan base as a state school.
This was, as the headline of this post suggests, good news for the two-man CSTB contingent. In fact, had I been a bit more eBay-conscientious, we could have had four tickets for no more than a total of three bucks. Neither of us wore purple, though we admired folks who broke out TCU and Vikings gear (Prince t-shirts would have been another option).
Unlike Vegas or the pundits, I expected a good game (or I sure as hell wouldn’t have attended, having been there in 2000 for the 66-17 Nebraska beating). Missouri was an even bigger favorite against Kansas, and they lost (and gave up 40 points). Texas was an even bigger favorite in the 2006 Alamo Bowl, and almost lost. Rivalries and bowls are both extremely unpredictable.
But, alas, Missouri’s superior talent allowed them to overcome more mistakes. They also played the run much better in the second half. Pat Fitzgerald may not care about a moral victory, but it was pretty crazy that NU could outright dominate much of a game in which they spotted that offense 15-20 yards of field position every kickoff. Then of course, they let a punt get played by Jeremy Maclin, and the game began anew.
Great night for C.J. Bacher (above), who outplayed Daniel. Crazy to think that Missouri’s kicker, who couldn’t seal the deal in regulation, is the most accurate in NCAA history. Awful that the Cats lost Corey Wooton towards the end, not because he might have made the difference (though he might have further delayed the inevitable) but because it was the turf that got him, and the prognosis isn’t good. And oh yeah – the Wildcats missed an extra point.
As I said in Texas Monthly, a bowl like this is just an extra inter-conference game – the kind that schools don’t schedule for September nearly as often as they should. Everybody left the building entertained, the Wildcats fans included – sorry Pat, but I do think that there’s still an element of “just happy to be here” for the moment. Give us a few more nine-win seasons (and that long-awaited bowl triumph), and not only will our expectations rise, we’ll even start to second-guess you.
Most of all, I enjoyed watching the NU sideline. Fitzgerald coaches like he just might sub in for the middle linebacker at any time (he could easily be penalized for going too far on the field). He also outworks Willie the Wildcat pumping up the crowd. And the players couldn’t have been any more intense and overjoyed if they had been in Pasadena.
So I’ve now attended as many Northwestern Alamo Bowls as I have Northwestern games when I was a Northwestern student. What can I say – it wasn’t just that they were awful, it was that the team I grew up watching still came first. In fact, I am now off to a Penn State pep rally at Beverly Hills High. Just might fire up the Twitter feed for that (and maybe at the Rose Bowl too).
While the blogosphere’s hoops intelligentsia are occupied with watching the Magic open up a 27 point halftime advantage over the Bulls (15 points, 13 rebounds for Dwight Howard thus far), I’m instead gazing at the Nets’ visit to Detroit. Jersey’s Yi Jianlian (above) was substituted in favor of Eduardo Najera pretty early on, a decision that presumably met with the approval of the Newark Star-Ledger’s Dave D’Alessandro, who declared of the Chinese powerless F earlier today, “his offense has almost sunk to the level of his defense, which was already excruciating…(Lawrence Frank) already knows that the moment teams see Yi lining up as the starting 4, it’s an open invitation to bend the rim.”
The thing that we find most bizarre is this obsessive commitment to Yi lately. It’s pretty clear that the kid has regressed in the last month – now he hits the wall in December, not January? – and if the coach is seeing something the rest of us are missing, we wish he’d share it.
His last 10 games — 6.2 points on 30.2 percent, neither figure a misprint – aren’t exactly what you can live with from a starter. He’s still the softest finisher in the league, he’s too timid for the position, and his confidence is shot.
Sure, he has to play. But no, he doesn’t have to play a lot – not while Eddie Najera is gathering dust, anyway.
Three times in the last eight days we’ve asked about Najera, and each inquiry received the same response we got today: “You know what he can do, and I’m just looking to incorporate it with what we do,” the coach said.
Actually, we haven’t a clue what he can do, because he’s played 81 minutes in two months. The last cameo was a three-minute stint against the Bobs Friday, when he seemed to bust a play (he scored anyway, if memory serves) and came right out.
That’s not what he signed up for. It’s time to pull him out of mothballs – or move him. Here’s an idea: Send Eddie to his hometown of Oklahoma City, throw Sean Williams into the deal, and see if the Thunder will hand over Joe Smith, who is the victim of another dubious youth movement.
Not so coincidentally, Smith’s name has popped up elsewhere this week, with the Celtics expressing interest and the Magic expressing, er, non-interest.
Far be for me to claim the Fanhouse has acquired Mr. Bosh’s vlogging services after he’s put his best work behind him — even if it’s true!. On the contrary, I think we oughta be thankful Sam Mitchell has found work as a cameraman.
I’m not sure who The New York Post’s Marc Berman thought he was punishing by boycotting his own blog following the Knicks’ loss to lowly Minnesota last Friday night, but the morning after New York’s 93-89 defeat of Charlotte, Berman’s rounded up a somewhat prominent replacement. Ladies and Gentleman, now blogging for the Post, the former (self-described) No. 1 Point Guard In The NBA, Stephon Marbury.
I sat on the bench for a whole month and didn’t say one word. It wasn’t easy because I love to play but that’s the nature of the biz. Then they made a trade and needed 8 guys and coach told me he had a certain number of minutes. I was cool. My jersey was never hung in my locker though so I never refused to play. Things were never handled properly.
Through it all, I respected their business position to go in another direction just like they have to respect my business position that I have a contract and obligated to pay me. It’s the principle of the whole thing. It’s really not about the money but it’s about the money. Feel me?
While everybody was talking this and that about me being in LA as a distraction at the Lakers game, I was out there meeting a shipment overseas with my new product. I went to the game because I wanted to see the game. Al Harrington is one of my closest friends so I wanted to see him as well. It’s tough watching other players on the floor when you want to be out there on the court but I had to endure it and shift some of my focus to business and getting outside of my self by helping others.
I’m far from perfect but I always follow my heart so I know my path is true. We’re gonna make mistakes but how can you grow if you never have the opportunity to move past your mistakes. I don’t know where this is headed, but in time it will be resolved. In the meantime, I wish everybody out there a safe and Happy New Year in the greatest city on earth.
Charles Barkley was arrested on suspicion of drinking and driving early Wednesday morning in Scottsdale, Gilbert police said.
An officer with a law enforcement task force that targets drunken driving saw the former NBA star run a stop sign around 1:30 a.m., said Gilbert police Lt. Eric Shuhandler.
Barkley declined to submit to a breath test but was given a blood test. The results have not come in.
After Barkley was processed, he was cited and released. He left in a cab, Shuhandler said.
Shuhandler said there was nothing remarkable about Barkley’s arrest and that it is customary to release people after they’ve been arrested on suspicion of DUI.
“Most of us have experienced dreams or nightmares on the same repeated themes, whether it’s falling from precipitous heights, sitting an exam without revision or going to work with no clothes on,” muses an uncredited When Saturday Comes Daily scribe. “For Chris Hutchings, however, the nightmare is a reality. He keeps being appointed as a football manager as successor to his friend Paul Jewell, only to be sacked soon afterwards, then hired again as Jewell’s assistant at another club.” Indeed, corporal punishment enthusiast Jewell is out of work yet again, and WSC is very quick to offer an alternative to Derby County’s inexplicablealleged interest in Paul Ince.
If Nigel Clough (above) were to leave the current Conference leaders Burton Albion to take on either of the clubs with whom Brian Clough won League titles it would be only the fourth time that a club has been managed by father and son. The most recent case was Kevin Bond whose turbulent spell at Bournemouth fell a long way short of emulating his father John’s record there in the early 1970s. The other two instances both involved Fulham. Harry and Joe Bradshaw were in charge at Craven Cottage in the decade either side of World War One while the two Bill Dodgins, senior and junior, both managed the club between the late 1940s and early 1970s – Dodgin junior was also one of his dad’s successors at Brentford during that period.
While Derby and Forest can both lay claim to the elder Clough, Nigel’s direct ties are to the latter, with whom he spent the best years of his career, winning fourteen England caps. If he is considering a move to the City Ground, the recent travails of of another former England player may give him pause for thought. Paul Ince moved up three levels in going from MK Dons to Blackburn in August and, irrespective of whether he was given enough time, he clearly found the gap a difficult one to breach. Nigel Clough had an indifferent start to his spell at Burton who finished in the bottom half of the Conference in his first three seasons in charge, but his side has steadily improved over the last three years and currently hold a seven point lead at the top. Clough has had five years more experience in management than Ince but they have all been at the same level, three steps below the Championship.
As long as you’re not married to him, starter Derek Lowe has been one of the more dependable pitchers in the big leagues over the past decade. Reliability, however, is not a word often associated with the enigmatic Oliver Perez, whom according to the New York Times’ Jack Curry, might not receive a contract offer from the Mets.
After methodically studying the starting pitchers left on the free-agent market, the Mets have determined that Derek Lowe would be the best addition to their club. The Mets have shown that by offering Lowe a three-year contract for about $36 million, according to people who have been briefed on the discussions.
The Mets do not want to offer Lowe more than three guaranteed years, so if he holds firm in his pursuit of five years and $90 million, he may not be close to signing. Lowe, who turns 36 in June, has averaged more than 200 innings and 15 wins the last seven seasons.
When the Mets pursued the free agent Francisco Rodríguez, they benefited from being one of the only teams willing to spend for a closer. Before the season ended, there was speculation that Rodríguez would get a $75 million deal. The Mets signed Rodríguez for about half that, giving him a three-year, $37 million deal.
The Mets are hoping the same happens with Lowe, and that he eventually falls to them for less than the $18 million a year he is seeking. Boras would not say how many teams had made offers to Lowe, but he said there were more teams involved in talks with Lowe than a week ago.
The Chicago Sun-Times’ Gordon Wittenmyer reports the Cubs are very close to swapping starter Jason Marquis for Rockies’ reliever Luis Vizcaino, with a a bid for free agent OF Milton Bradley being Jim Hendry’s next move after Marquis’ salary is off the books. If Wittenmyer is correct about the Bradley acquisition, the Cubs will become Milton’s 7th team in 10 years. Which cap will he don on his Anger Management Hall Of Fame Plaque?
Washington Capitols owner Ted Leonsis has received his share of CSTB coverage in the past, mostly for a physical confrontation with an angry fan, later for his attempts to curry blogger favor with a lavish desert cart. This past December 23, however, the former AOL executive retreated to cyberspace in an attempt to reason with angry Caps rooters who failed to understand that “we are all in this together (and a quick apology note now would be nice as well)”.
Some folks didn’t reach for their remotes last night and change the channel. Instead they pounded out emails to me with rants, curse words, demands and some pretty basic “how could you?” emails. Trade this guy, fire that guy, sell the team, etc. etc. I received two of these gems moments after the Rangers scored their fourth goal.
I would like to rise above the fray. Be nice. Be positive and enjoy the ride we are on as a team. I understand your passion but it is getting old having to read venom and angst and fury. What I may just do is block you from my email and make sure you are NOT allowed ever to post again on our message boards as well. There is no need for the over the top rants so I am really asking you if you are “true long term fans” just tone it down a notch.
Be nicer and perhaps don’t hit the send button as much. Would that be too much to ask? Thank you.
The fracas took place at the Lounge Inn in Bold Street, following which the venue’s DJ, a 34-year-old local man, required hospital treatment after suffering facial injuries. Police were called and subsequently arrested six men on suspicion of assault in nearby Lord Street.
It remains unclear what exactly happened at the popular celebrity nightspot, but one report has suggested that Gerrard and a group of his friends got involved in an altercation after the DJ refused to allow them to choose the songs played on the venue’s sound system.Gerrard is a big fan of Phil Collins and counts the singer’s greatest hits as his favourite album. He is also partial to Coldplay.
The Lounge Inn remained shut yesterday but evidence of a fight inside could be seen through the windows. Spots of blood were clearly visible on the floor, along with shards of broken glass.
Prior to last night, Da Bulls — coming off 7 straight road losses — hadn’t won a game in the Swamp in nearly 8 years. I’d like to think it was because they were as traumatized as myself at the promise of a Cabela’s outlet just miles from the Lincoln Tunnel, but chances are, basketball reasons contributed to the streak, too.
[Just caught up with this on MLB network's "classics," and I don't think its over rated at all.]
It’s December 30th, and I didn’t want to let 2008 run out without finally wishing a hearty congratulations to the World Champion Phillies and their fans. Better late than when hell freezes over never. I know, I know, for Cub fans, 2008 was “our year.” “Our Year.” What a sad fucking joke. Leaves a tinny, metallic taste in my mouth just to say it. But I’m over all that now. And not wishing Jason Cohen and Chuck Meehan a congratulations would be petty no matter how I feel. Congrats. See Gerard, I’m classy when the situation calls for it. At least Obama won, so that’s something.
The Warriors came to Hollywood a day before Sunday’s game, giving Stephen Jackson a chance Saturday to hang out with Baron Davis (above). And discuss the possibility of Davis rejoining the Warriors.
“That’s all we talked about,” Jackson said. “I went to his house, spent some time with his mom and his grandmother. He wants to come back. And if he wants to come back, I want him back.”
It is feasible that the Warriors and the Clippers could pull off a deal. It would have to involve Warriors forward Corey Maggette (for salary-cap reasons) and/or guard Jamal Crawford (to make room in the backcourt).
Clippers owner Donald Sterling said last season that he had wanted Maggette around long term.
“I think that would be great for us,” Jackson said. “Coach (Don Nelson) loves him. Him and (guard) Monta (Ellis) have good chemistry. If they could work that out, that would be great for the organization.”
(EDITOR’S NOTE : Mr. David Williams observed the Cowboys’ total capitulation to Philly yesterday and writes, “I could’ve done a better ‘poster,’ but my heart was apparently eaten by the Jones family yesterday in some kind of Mayan Ceremonial hoodoo.”)
I’m past having much sentimentality about sports teams, but can’t escape the genetic basis for being a Cowboys fan.
That being said, to the extent a multi-billion-dollar corporate entity can have “heart” or “guts” (if by those terms you are nostalgically denoting a group gestalt that includes pride in performance and grace under pressure), this particular iteration of the Dallas product has neither, and to the extent that they did, it failed them on an embarrassing scale yesterday.
Of course, without a real football GM, this will continue to be a grand farce; Jerry’s ego writ large on the stage– bound to be a tragi-comedy.
It may emerge in future days that Romo was playing hurt, but what isn’t heroic is bad decision making on the field. Football, unlike magic, is a technology (or praxis) that is sufficiently understood.
Owens passive-agressive hands and Roy Williams’ idea of running a crisp route, or inability to make inuitive adjustments all reek of rampant solipsism.
Players who stepped up for contract years and then contracted in performance. Over-paid safeties (!) whose skill level is dime-a-dozen.
A head coach who found the career ceiling and should drop back to defensive co-ordinator.
An heir apparent who was out-schemed.
The idea that a unit that got to 13-3 last season but already had Borderline Personality Disorder just needed a few tweaks. Like Pacman Jones.
It was a perfect storm.
There is one possibility that is microscopically heartening: yesterday’s game was like a suicide’s plea for help. They know somehow that Wade can’t take them to the Promised Land. They know in their tiny heart of hearts that Garrett is easily out-coached. They have to know everything that’s wrong, and they exposed it to try to force the issue(s).
If this is the case– to quote Lenin: “what is to be done?” (and who will do it?).
[Seen shaking hands: former rising star in 2001 to DC disgrace to 2008 rejectee of GOP money men nationwide – and on the right, Rudy Giuliani.]
Sammy Sosa lets it be known this week he’s up for the 2009 season if you are. Sosa, the legit single-season home-run king, who never appeared on the Mitchell Report with Mark McGwire or Barry Bonds, has been informed by the Marlins that they’re looking for a younger outfield this season. The Trib reports that Sosa recently gave an interview to the Dominican newspaper Listin Diario that he currently has no offers. At 40, you can’t blame teams for their skepticism, but you have to wonder if the same atmosphere of collusion that Barry Bonds is convinced exists doesn’t apply to Sosa as well (assuming it exists). In 2007, Sosa hit .252, with 21 HRs and 92 RBI in 114 games for Texas, and passed the 600-HR mark, as one of only six players to do so.
While praising the likes of Deron Williams and Dikembe Mutombo for their tireless efforts on behalf of numerous charities, the Salt Lake Tribune’s Ross Siler, Tony Semerad and Michael C. Lewis paint a far less flattering picture of other NBA players’ fundraising efforts. “The average NBA player foundation put just 51 cents of each dollar it spent toward charitable programs, well below the 65 cents most philanthropic watchdog groups view as acceptable,” claim the trio, though perhaps these numbers are thrown off a bit by the catering bill for Jerome James’ “Feed The Hungriest” Banquet.
NBA free agent Robert Horry’s Big Shot Foundation reported $206,086 in fundraising expenses for 2005, its first year of operation, but, according to tax returns, the efforts raised nothing.
The year’s tab included $38,000 in artist’s fees; a total of $23,126 in building and venue rental; a $27,486 expenditure on an unitemized “commission”; $23,005 in food; $25,905 in golf course fees; $17,368 on hotels; along with other four-figure expenditures on a disk jockey, sound and lighting, trophies, video rental, logo shirts and security.
Attempts to reach a foundation spokesman at the phone number listed on tax returns were unsuccessful.
Retired NBA power forward Chris Webber’s Foundation holds an annual star-studded poker and golf extravaganza at Planet Hollywood Resort and Casino in Las Vegas, called C-Webb’s Bada Bling. Now in its fourth year, the party is billed as “a celebrity weekend” with a 56-star guest list including comedian Jamie Foxx and singer Gladys Knight.
In 2006, the first year the event was held, party organizers reported spending $243,000 on catering and $327,561 on event production. The foundation also reported losing $530,590 on special events for the same year, tax returns show.
It finally might be time for the Mushnick children to install some sort of reverse V-chip on the family cable box, one that will prevent the New York Post’s Phil Mushnick from watching the NFL preview programs that seem to offend him so profoundly.
Two minutes into Fox’s one-hour pregame yesterday, host Curt Menefee noted that panelist Terry Bradshaw last week said he’d like to see the Lions finish 0-16.
“S–bag,” panelist Howie Long said of Bradshaw.
“I am a s–bag,” Bradshaw said.
That gave Long, Bradshaw and Fox 58 minutes to apologize, to express their regrets to a national audience for having ambushed it during Sunday daylight.
None came. Perhaps they felt they’d said nothing inappropriate, or, at worst, it was no big deal. Hey, if there were kids watching, that’s what the Fox robot is for!
Shortly after the Long-Bradshaw exchange, “weather babe” (expect steamy and hot) Jillian Reynolds began her segment with a heh-heh crack suggesting that Bradshaw’s the father of her infant child. “Heh-heh-heh,” Fox’s panelists responded.
I’m curious how many anguished telephone calls Fox affiliates across the nation received (fewer than one?), or for that matter, how many parents took the time to carefully explain to their kids just what Long and Bradshaw were talking about. It’s an awkward conversation, sure, but that’s why “We’re Going On A Bear Hunt” author Michael Rosen published “A Child’s Guide To Scumbags”.
“We respect Eric for what he’s done, but we want to build on the successful foundation that he’s laid” said New York Jets owner Woody Johnson earlier today, a curious choice of words to describe the 3 year tenure of just-fired head coach Eric Mangini (above), he of the 23-26 record and going 1-4 down the stretch (including Sunday’s 24-17 Favre-wrapped gift to Miami). Despite splashing out on free agents and contract extensions during the offseason, Gang Green are consigned to many months of Benigno howling, though not nearly as much as if they’d kept Mangini on board.
Curiously, GM Mike Tannenbaum retains his title, despite his role (along with that of Mangini) in bringing Brett Favre to the Swamp (and conversely, giving Chad Pennington —- the ‘08 Comeback Player Of The Year? — a new lease on life with an AFC East rival). Favre lead the NFL with 22 INT’s and the former Packer icon’s poor performances were as big a factor as any in in the Jets’ failure to make the postseason. That Johnson and Tanenbaum profess to wanting Favre’s return in 2009 is nothing short of baffling.
In a column obviously written before Portland’s Greg Oden scored 16 points and collected 10 rebounds against the Raptors Saturday night, The Oregonian’s John Canzano refused to mince words regarding the Blazers’ Center, insisting “a team aiming to make the playoffs for the first time in 5 seasons is starting a player who hasn’t earned it.”
Paul Allen’s customized jet has a bedroom at the back. The bedroom is for Allen’s personal use, and while the Trail Blazers utilize the 757 aircraft “Blazer One” for travel during the NBA season, Allen’s room has been off limits to players.
All, except one.
Greg Oden used the bedroom last year so he could stretch his injured leg out on flights. And even this season, team insiders tell you the now-healthy Oden will sometimes disappear to the back of the plane, and close the door, and spend the flight by himself while his teammates socialize up front.
I bring this up today because the franchise has one set of standards, rules and expectations for the majority of players — and apparently another for Oden.
I know Joel Przybilla deserves to start at center. You know he does. Your spouse knows. Your children know. Your dog knows. Even Oden knows.
You can talk about defensive issues. And offensive issues. But if we can’t talk about the elephant standing in the Blazers locker room we’re all in trouble. And that issue is the one revolving around the franchise’s decision to baby its No. 1 pick, wrap him in protective bubble-wrap, pamper his psyche and hand him a starting position that should belong to Przybilla today.
3 Cy Young Award Winners in one starting rotation sounds pretty hot on paper, but when you consider that two of’em are Surfin’ Barry and the aging Randy Johnson, it’s hard to put much stock in the Unit’s pledge the ‘09 SF Giants can contend in the NL West. There’s also the matter of last year’s team narrowly losing to San Diego for the title of the NL’s crappiest run producer, but perhaps Brian Sabean will find Adam Dunn’s phone number sometime between now and the start of Spring Training. Until then, however, the Giants GM calls Johnson, “as intimidating a pitcher as there is in the league and in baseball.” Cameramen surely concur, though perhaps opponents do as well. Not quite blown away by SF’s acquisition is the Journal News’ Peter Abraham who scoffs, “I love the part about how the Giants are looking forward to him helping their young pitchers. Johnson barely acknowledged his teammates when he was with the Yankees.” But we can’t really blame Sabean for resorting to hyperbole — how many season tickets can you sell with a slogan like, “Not Nearly As (Clubhouse) Cancerous As The Sultan Of Surly”?
How else then, to describe the mind blowing stupidity of Tennessee GOP fixture Chip Saltsman, a candidate for RNC chairman and the doofus responsible for distributing copies of Paul Shanklin’s “Barack The Magic Negro”, a tune heard widely this week on hate fuck radio and featuring the couplet, “Barack made guilty whites feel good/They’ll vote for him and not for me/Cause he’s not from the ’hood.” From the New York Times’ Jason De Parle :
Speaking to The Hill newspaper on Friday, Mr. Saltsman, described it as a “light-hearted” gift that would be received in “good humor” by members of the Republican National Committee.
“I am shocked and appalled,” Mike Duncan, the current party chairman, said in a statement released Saturday. Mr. Duncan is competing for a second term against Mr. Saltsman and four others.
“This is so inappropriate that it should disqualify any Republican National Committee candidate who would use it,” Newt Gingrich, a Republican former House speaker, said in an e-mail message. Referring to Mr. Obama, Mr. Gingrich said, “There are no grounds for demeaning him or for using racist descriptions.”
There are two black candidates for the post, J. Kenneth Blackwell, a former Ohio secretary of state, and Michael Steele, a former lieutenant governor of Maryland. On Saturday, Mr. Blackwell dismissed the fuss as “hypersensitivity.”
“All competitors for this leadership position are fine people,” he said in an e-mail message.
The dispute illustrates a larger Republican challenge in the months ahead: how to oppose the first black president without seeming antiblack. There are no black Republicans in Congress, and a party spokesman could name only 2 blacks among the 168 members of the national committee. Katon Dawson, the chairman of the South Carolina Republican Party, resigned from an all-white country club in preparing for his campaign to be party chairman.
The parody is sung to the tune of “Puff the Magic Dragon” by a character meant to be the Rev. Al Sharpton, the civil rights advocate and sometime political candidate. The character laments that white liberals vote for Mr. Obama while shunning his brand of more confrontational racial politics.
Along with remind us that Bud Selig had little to say regarding Brett Myers’ sparring session on a Boston sidewalk, the Sporting News’ Richard Justice muses, “San Diego’s Brian Giles certainly isn’t the first professional athlete to be accused of slapping a woman. What makes his case unique is that the alleged incident in 2006 was captured on video. And it’s chilling.”
The incident with a former girlfriend, Cheri Olvera, was settled in 2006 when Giles was charged with misdemeanor domestic violence. He completed anger-management counseling, and the charges were dropped.
But the incident is back in the news, as the video was recently released when Olvera filed suit about financial support she said was promised her.
It’s impossible to watch the video without getting chills. Thanks to a security camera, we see Giles walk into a bar and approach Olvera. In a stunning few seconds, he appears to pull her hair and slap or shove her.
Giles should thank his lucky stars he’s not an NFL player. He would have had a Roger Goodell-imposed suspension coming and could have counted on his union to support that suspension.
Players are suspended for testing positive for steroids. Players are suspended for testing positive for recreational drugs. Players can be suspended for corking a bat, scuffing a ball or refusing a manager’s orders.
So why not suspend a player for an act everyone agrees is despicable?
I’d like to imagine the Padres will have a hard time finding a taker for Giles, and surveillance video of his manhandling a pregnant girlfriend won’t help matters. On the other hand, such incidents were mere speed bumps in the careers of Myers, Wil Cordero or Bobby Cox
On the bright side, if Roethlisberger suffered a serious concussion, there’s no chance he’s been watching the 2nd half of today’s Chiefs/Bengals game, nor did he have to witness Vince Young’s first start since Week One aka National Jim Sorgi Day.
Writes Charles Star of the above competition, “this came up in my Google news feed and I couldn’t think of anyone who would appreciate it more.” I think he’s referring to me, personally, though I really have an eye on the competition’s 2nd prize, a hardbound copy of “How To Play Defense”, autographed by Mike D’Antoni and Nate Robinson.
(Chiefs K Jan Stenerud, waxing his skis for a downhill run ready to lay someone out)
While the Giants’ Jeff Feagles is credited with a mere 11 tackles in 15 NFL seasons, the New York Times’ Judy Battista suggests the NY punter may soon be considered an anachronism, claiming “the most recent generation of kickers and punters seems to have made a philosophical choice to reject its reputation and dive into the pile.”
In November, Jacksonville punter Adam Podlesh proved the folly of having a kicker channel his inner Ray Lewis when he sustained a season-ending knee injury in his money leg while trying to make a tackle. Podlesh said he had since experienced fleeting thoughts that maybe he should avoid tackling to keep himself healthy. Then again, he doubts he will shy away next season.
“It’s kind of cool getting down there and living the glory days of high school,” said Podlesh, who was a starting linebacker in high school and has been relatively prolific with five tackles the past two seasons. “At the same time, it’s also a job. In my mind, I might as well try. One thing I don’t like is people questioning my effort.”
Pride seems to drive all of those kickers and punters in their quests to stop returners, who are usually the best athletes on the field. After all, nobody wants to flail at a returner. Kickers note that the sideline erupts when they make a tackle; a routine field goal means a pat on the back, at most.
Kickers and punters were once tough guys, like Lou Groza and Jerry Kramer, who also played on the offensive line. But the arrival in the 1960s and ’70s of foreign-born soccer-style kickers, few of whom had ever played American football, was soon accompanied by plenty of laughs.
Before a preseason game against the Chiefs in the 1970s, the returner George Atkinson of the Raiders joked with Kansas City kicker Jan Stenerud, who did not play football until his senior year of college, that he was not a real player because he never tackled anybody. Stenerud tackled Atkinson twice during that game.
Stenerud said an angry John Madden, the Raiders’ coach at the time, was said to have asked this about Atkinson, “How could you get tackled twice by a Norwegian skier?
Lots of good stuff in Thayer Evans’ long-haul New York Times piece on the recruitment of Lufkin, TX lineman Jamarkus McFarland. There’s talk of nudity, interest-free loans, excessive alcohol consumption, too-flirty recruiting hostesses and Hummer limos – hardly shocking. And since the story is about a player who committed to, and was seemingly recruited with more care by, the University of Oklahoma, you might say that it has a slant. But what stands out most is how the University of Texas comes off as both arrogant and socially inept about a player who was seemingly the Horns’ to lose.
Before the visit, [McFarland's mother, Kashemeyia] Adams called Texas and asked to speak with Brown. The associate head coach, Mac McWhorter, told her that she could talk only to him.
That bothered her because she had wanted to talk to Brown and commend him for the Longhorns’ dismissal of a player who had posted a racial slur on his Facebook page about President-elect Barack Obama.
During the trip, Adams said, she asked Brown about the Obama slur, and was told that the player had to be dismissed because the F.B.I. had become involved.
After Texas beat Baylor that weekend, McFarland and his mother ate dinner at Brown’s home. Flat-screen televisions were in every room, and there were two outside.
“Whose house do you like better, Bob Stoops’s, Les Miles’s or mine?” Adams recalled Brown saying…
Now, I’m guessing Mack Brown meant to be more humorous than pompous in that instance. But why not tell her what she wanted to hear regarding Buck Burnette?
Bob Stoops, by contrast, later came to Lufkin and watched Beauty Shop with mom and Grandma.
Texas made another visit to McFarland’s school, but again, they did not see Adams.
After the visit, Adams received an e-mail message from Brown. “It is obvious that the recruiting has put a strain on your relationship,” the message said. “JaMac wants Texas, and Mom wants OU. We want you to still come to Texas, but we are going to slow our process down because you two need some time to get on the same page. We do not want players at Texas if everyone isn’t on the same page.”
In the same message, Brown wrote that Texas would not visit again unless requested.
McFarland’s mother and grandmother were offended.
“That’s tacky to me,” Adams said. “You’re basically telling my kid to just go against his parents.”
Actually it sounds like UT may have actively decided that the parents were no longer worth the trouble (or four years of trouble), though they continued to recruit McFarland. And they could well do so up until the 4th of February, but I’d say the very existence of this article makes that rather unlikely.
“Inside the humid confines of college wrestling practice, grapplers spend hours banging heads, grinding faces into the mat and contorting into uncomfortable positions. They spill a little blood and leave puddles of sweat” writes the Philadelphia Daily News’ Jason Nark, setting the scene for a medical tragedy (and getting several CSTB readers aroused in the process). York College’s James Harris, a former wrestler for the school’s Division III squad is “afraid that people will think he contracted herpes from a prostitute, instead of at wrestling practice.” Much as I want to sympathize with Harris’ plight, what’s up with disparaging prostitutes? Aren’t their jobs difficult enough without being accused of fucking amateur wrestlers?
“I feel uncleansed,” said Harris, 23, a former standout wrestler for Winslow Township High School, in Camden County. “There’s a stigma attached to it.”
Harris and two other ex-wrestlers – Andrew Bradley, of Delaware, and Alex Binder, of Maryland – are suing York College of Pennsylvania, in York County, claiming that coaches knew that a teammate had contracted herpes simplex virus Type 1, yet allowed him to continue wrestling and infecting others during the fall of 2006.
The lawsuit, filed last month in the Philadelphia Court of Common Pleas, contends that the coaching staff disregarded NCAA guidelines and actually “required” the wrestlers to engage in practice with open lesions wrapped in gauze.
Although the York wrestling team made each infected wrestler sit out for three days, NCAA guidelines dictate that athletes with active herpes outbreaks must not compete, even with bandages, until a five-day anti-viral treatment is completed.
Harris, who recently graduated from York, said that at one point roughly 70 percent of the team – or about 25 wrestlers – had contracted herpes, which is treatable but not curable.
Not to make light of a very serious story, but I’m pleased to finally read a story that features the words “wrestling” and “herpes” without once mentioning Buddy Landell.
What could justify Miami’s Erik Spoelstra calling a time out with little more than a half minute to play in last night’s 90-77 blowout of Da Bulls? Other than, y’know, checking on his eBay bid for a copy of The Eat’s “Communist Radio”. Instead, the Heat’s head coach insisted to the Sun-Sentinel’s Ira Winderman, “I wanted to get our starters out”, but his Chicago counterpart — who lost the services of Luol Deng earlier in the night — isn’t buying it.
“They had some guys at the scorers’ table,” Spoelstra said. “I wasn’t clearly doing anything to show anybody up. That is a common practice in the NBA. I wanted to get our guys out, just in case something crazy would happen, and it allowed them to get their subs in, too.”
The Bulls didn’t see it that way. During that timeout huddle, Bulls coach Vinny Del Negro could be seen imploring his players to, “Remember this!”
After the game, Del Negro first said sarcastically, “They were just calling timeout to set up a play or something.”
He continued, “I don’t know what they were doing. There’s 30 seconds to go in the game. They’re up 15 or 13 or whatever. But, whatever, we’ll play them again.”
Replay showed no substitutes waiting at the scorers’ table for the Bulls, nor did Chicago substitute during that break.
“I don’t know why they’re all fired up,” Spoelstra said. “If they want to make a big deal about it, whatever.”
Winderman points out there was a prior stoppage of play with 1:20 remaining, so there was an earlier opportunity for Spoelstra to make his moves.
Detroit’s Cherilus Godser calls tomorrow’s trip to Green Bay, “our Super Bowl”, a rather curious way of looking at things for the 0-15 Lions, as the Super Bowl is generally played several weeks after the regular season….between two teams with winning records. The Detroit Free Press’ Michael Rosenberg isn’t having a tough time finding the humor in all of this, acknowledging Detroit’s announcement of a price cut on ‘09 club seats by sneering “I was not even aware they were selling the club seats before, because as far as I can tell, nobody ever sits in them. I always wondered why they built a storage facility for La-Z-Boy in the middle of Ford Field, but I was too embarrassed to ask about it.”
As the Lions head to the frozen grass of Lambeau, though, I wonder: Could they (accidentally) win this game?
We are trying to calm ourselves by remembering that the Packers are one of the best 5-10 teams in the history of the league, which sounds like faint praise, but the Lions would KILL for that kind of honor.
Despite their record, the Packers have actually outscored their opponents by 29 points. For comparison’s sake: the Arizona Cardinals, who have clinched their division, have been outscored by 12 points.
Possibly in an attempt to ease our concerns, Lions coach Rod Marinelli promised this week that the Packers will use a lot of personnel packages and try to spread the field.
This means that Green Bay can match its third and fourth receivers against the Lions’ fifth and sixth defensive backs, and the genius of the strategy is that the Lions don’t actually have six defensive backs. This will force the Lions to burn all their time-outs while they scan the stands for anybody who looks like they can play safety.
The strategy should work. The Lions have the worst pass defense in the league by a mile, and Aaron Rodgers, statistically, is the fourth-best quarterback the Lions have faced this season.
Rodgers could be third-best by the end of the day. And the Lions should be 0-16. Nothing is Possible, or as Al Michaels might say: Do you believe in Nothing? Yes!
A video showing football stars speaking out against homophobia will be released next year as part of an unprecedented drive by the sport’s governing bodies to tackle a sharp rise in abuse and discrimination.
The video will be shown in cinemas, on TV and in stadiums in an attempt to rid terraces and pitches of homophobic chants and slurs, The Guardian reported.
The Football Association (FA), the Professional Footballers’ Association, the players’ union, Kick It Out, the sport’s diversity and inclusion campaign, and Peter Tatchell, of gay rights group Outrage, began work on plans for the video.
It is hoped that up to a dozen players, including David Beckham, Rio Ferdinand, Sol Campbell, David James, Wayne Rooney, Ashley Cole and Cristiano Ronaldo, will be persuaded to take part.
The video is due to be released in March 2009 and could be shown in schools if the FA wins the backing of the Department for Children, Schools and Families.
If some old allegations by former Chelsea punching bag/Guardian reader Graham Le’Saux are credible, Becks is a curious choice for this campaign.
It’s been a trying offseason for Dodger fans, with LA being a non-factor in the free agency market thus far and Julie McCourt suggesting Manny Money could be better spent on playgrounds. None of that, however, matches the following item in terms of terror potential, as the Arizona Republic’s Jim Gintino reports Jeanne Zelasko hopes to become the Dodgers’ new radio play-by-play announcer (link swiped from Baseball Think Factory).
A position became available when Charlie Steiner, who did 40 games a year on cable, had his role redefined. Fox, meanwhile, canceled the baseball pregame show she hosted with Kevin Kennedy due to the loss of advertising revenue.
“I love everybody I work with and would do it until I fell out of the chair, and I love sports,” she said. “But this is an interesting time for me as I try to figure out, ‘OK, what’s next?’
“There is an opening for the Dodgers . . . so I have been beating down their door a little bit.”
Zelasko said it is understandable that the Dodgers asked her if she ever had done baseball play-by-play – the answer is no – but she had that role for ice-skating and gymnastics competitions.
“But I’ve been around baseball for a very long time, and Kevin Kennedy, who should be managing somewhere, taught me more about that the game than I think most people could even consider. I was blessed to be next to him for eight years. So I’m excited. I don’t know if they’ll bite.”
She knows the experience and gender factors are not in her favor, but she has conquered the odds before. She was the first female reporter to walk the NASCAR pits, and she has handled other “firsts” with relative ease.
“Honestly, I have walked on this thin ice before with anything I’ve ever done in my broadcasting career,” she said. “As I was telling the Dodgers, I would never ask for something I thought I would fail at. I think it’s gonna take the right woman at the right time, and if I may be so bold, I believe that person’s me.”
First off, I hope you all had a terrific holiday. Much as I’d like to claim I did my part by denying you a escape-the-family-valve in the form of 3rd hand sports gossip/news/griping, CSTB’s record breaking two days AWOL had less to do with your editor’s laziness and totally down to a denial of service attack launched by Colin Cowherd billing issue we’ve thankfully resolved.
Normal service will resume just as soon as I can remember which room I watch television in.
When Blazers mouthpiece Brian Wheeler calls Brandon Roy (above), “The Natural”, the Tribune’s Kerry Eggers frowns. “The problem is, the nickname’s not exactly original. Sport’s ‘Naturals’ already have included the likes of Robert Redford, Randy Couture, Jeff Francouer – and I’m probably missing somebody.” Hey, if Ric Flair wants to put Kerry in the figure four, that’s totally his call. But Eggers is thinking oh-so-clearly in bemoaning the scourge of “this first-initial, last name thing” (”anything but B-Roy, D-Wade, T-Law, T-Mac, J-Kidd and C-Webb…we need to erradicate it like smallpox.”)
Greg Anderson was allegedly called “Cadillac” because he rode his bicycle to and from campus at the University of Houston. Wouldn’t “Schwinn” have been more appropriate?
I like John “Hondo” Havlicek, Cedric “Cornbread” Maxwell, Dennis “Worm” Rodman, Robert “Chief” Parish and “Dr. J” (Julius Erving) and “The Big O,” Oscar Robertson. You gotta love Sam “Big Smooth” Perkins and Lionel “L-Train” Hollins (and Simmons) and the two John Williams – “Hot Rod” and “Hot Plate.”
There’s a dearth of good ones in the big leagues these days, though. Most of them have to do with size (Big Unit, Big Papi, Big Hurt). I’m OK with K-Rod, given the play off A-Rod and Francisco Rodriguez’s strikeout capacity.
Today’s NBA?
“Half Man, Half Amazing” for a younger Vince Carter was inventive. And “The Chosen One” for LeBron James, whom some people are now calling “LBJ” – not bad.
[Mr. Cosloy, pictured, receiving late breaking news of a new Mushnick column.]
An internet adult friend finding service networking hotspot, Facebook, currently lists today as the birthday of one Gerard Cosloy. My best to you, sir. As such, I think it might be a good thing for all of us to take a moment from enjoying our holiday to appreciate CSTB. In much the same way George Bailey came to appreciate his life’s worth at the end of It’s A Wonderful Life, viewing a world he never touched, I wonder what the sports world would be without this forum. In that nightmare world, Will Leitch is a respected sports journalist at a major magazine. The Mets continue to make ineffective deals and questionable hires for manager each year. Sports journalists like Phil Mushnick write without fear of looking ridiculous. Tim McCarver and Joe Buck’s broadcast careers go unhindered, making baseball fans everywhere miserable. And this reporter? Without CSTB, I would have been unable to offer managerial advice to stop the Cubs from choking in post-season, push Sam Zell to sell to Mark Cuban, and with unrelenting posting, land Jake Peavy or Randy Johnson. It was here I broke the Roger Clemens steroid story, years before the Mitchell Report. I had no proof, just malice and a venue to print such spite, called CSTB.
Edition 21 of Jon Solomon’s 24 Hour Christmas Spectacular is in progress as of this writing on WPRB.com. Please keep in mind, just because you can see Jon and he cannot see you is no excuse for not wearing trousers.
There have been no shortage of heated reactions to the Yankees lavishing an 8 year, $180 million pact on 1B Mark Teixeira yesterday in the wake of the CC Sabathia and A.J. Burnett acquisitions. While the Philadelphia Inquirer’s Phil Sheridan claims the Bombers “represent the very worst in America”, an equally hysterically Brewers owner Mark Attanasio called for a salary cap, telling Bloomberg News, “At the rate the Yankees are going, I’m not sure anyone can compete with them.” Though I’m thankful Attanasio’s perspective is not shared by Rays skipper Joe Maddon, the New York Post’s Mark Vaccaro has one of the more curious takes on the subject, highlighting the alleged pressured faced not by the Yankees’ AL East rivals, but rather by the New York Mets. It’s time, writes Vaccaro, for the Mets “to act like they belong in the same sentence – or the same city – as the Yankees…unless, of course, the Mets and the Wilpon family don’t have as much money as they say they do, and unless they want to ensure that questions about just how much they lost at the hands of Bernie Madoff will never, ever go away.”
Right now, immediately, the Mets need to consummate their pursuit of Derek Lowe (above), need to find a way to close a deal with the best available starter on the market, filling the most gaping hole on their roster.
Right now, immediately, they need to re-investigate their negotiations with Oliver Perez, and at least call Orlando Hudson. Unless the team is drowning and dying in red ink – which it insists it is not – the Mets need to prove with their checkbooks that they really are in the same category as the Yankees.
The Mets were delighted by their work at the Winter Meetings, and it is true that acquiring Francisco Rodriguez and J.J. Putz made them instantly better in one area of need.
But it also is true that part of what made the K-Rod deal so satisfying was the dearth of dollars it cost. They got him on the cheap, at least compared to what his initial market seemed to be.
No one is suggesting the Mets need to throw money into a bonfire just to keep up with the Yankees. But they do need to improve their team, which right now looks, at best, to be second-best in the NL East behind the Phillies, with the Marlins and Braves very much in the same neighborhood. And decidedly second-rate in their own city.
There still are gems, expensive ones, necessary ones, out there for the taking. All you have to do is pay them. Ramirez. Lowe. Perez. Hudson, who would bring the kind of fire and leadership for which this team has been screaming for years. The Mets need starting pitching, and could sure use lineup help. You can make an argument for any of them.
Much as I like the odds of Derek Lowe winning 15 games in a Mets uniform next season, I’m far less enthused about him commanding a 4 or 5 year deal. And it’s the height of paranoia (or stirring shit up for the sake of it) to suggest a team featuring Johan Santana, Jose Reyes, Carlos Beltran, Carlos Delgado, David Wright and Francisco Rodriguez has been rendered irrelevant by the Bronx spending spree. Whether the Yankees win 100 or 130 games next season is of little consequence to Mets fans — their team making the postseason is their primary concern. In signing K-Rod and trading for J.J. Putz, Omar Minaya addressed a pair of his club’s most glaring weaknesses. By contrast, Brian Cashman’s purchases of Sabathia, Burnett and Teixeira, while unquestionably making his team stronger, still leave the Yankees as a less than fully realized squad. Teixeira might get on base 4 times out of 10, but his resume as a middle reliever is awfully thin.
Thanks to Max for screening the “Silent Night Deadly Night” Tuesday evening. Much as I hate to speak ill of the dead, Gene Siskel really missed the boat on this one.
Aside from, well, anyone who sat through the disappointing 5th season, it’s pretty hard to find a discouraging word written about HBO’s “The Wire”. With the release of all 5 seasons as a DVD box set, however, CNN’s John Blake, a West Baltimore native, offers a rare voice of dissent. “I love ‘The Wire’,” insists Blake. “The dialogue crackles, the characters are rich and the minute ways it captures how Baltimoreans move and talk is uncanny. But the ‘Complete’ story isn’t the whole story.”
The Wire’s” most unsettling scene for me took place in season four. It involved a murder — of a gentle teenager’s spirit. The character’s name is Dukie, and he brought back memories of some people I knew.
Dukie is lost. He has no family, his public school is paralyzed by violence and he’s not tough enough to make it on the streets. He has a gift for computers but doesn’t know what to do with his ability.
Dukie looks one day for help from “Cutty,” an ex-con who runs a boxing gym in their neighborhood. Cutty tells Dukie that “the world is bigger” than the violent neighborhood both live in.
“How do I get from here to the rest of the world?” Dukie asks Cutty.
“I wish I knew,” Cutty sighs, and walks away.
Why did Cutty give Dukie such a hopeless answer? Maybe it’s because some people who never lived in a neighborhood like “The Wire” confuse hopelessness for authenticity. Yeah, I could shock you with stories of violence, but it’s so easy to slip from revelation to titillation. I start off telling you a story about how tough my school was, and soon I’m shooting it out with five drug dealers who want to steal my homework.
But I never remember West Baltimore being so hopeless. A man like Cutty wouldn’t tell a young man that he had no way out — adults rallied around kids with potential.
I even checked with some childhood friends — one who is now an undercover police officer who literally works a “wire” for the Baltimore Police Department — and we all agreed that “The Wire’s” bleakness was exaggerated.
“They made it seem like we grew up in Bosnia,” my friend, another “Wire” fan, told me.
My community was filled with what Barack Obama calls the “quiet heroes.” (Obama reportedly is a big fan of “The Wire.”) There was my high school tennis coach. The dignified deacons in my church. The retired steelworker who watched Orioles baseball games on his porch next door. Relatives, teachers, even summer job programs (one gave me my first exposure to journalism) — all inspired me.
Yet those quiet heroes seem fated to fail in “The Wire.” The show implies that only a fantastic few ever escape the streets.
“I’m through with baseball,” writes Babes Who Love Baseball’s Lizzy, the Yankees’ $180 million acquisition of Mark Teixeira causing her to pledge, “I will never pay to watch a game, purchase team merchandise, or read the sports section of any paper that I’m not paid to read.” She has a tough time reconciling the Bombers committing $423 million to free agents this offseason, just months after requesting nearly a half billion in public money towards the completion of the new Yankee Stadium, and while Newsday’s Wallace Matthews echoes these sentiments (”sometimes it seems as if the Yankees inhabit some alternate reality, a bizarro universe in which the AL East race is not a competition among ballclubs but among bankbooks, one in which the recession doesn’t exist, unemployment has been eradicated and depression is a word for shrinks, not sharks.”) the columnist insists that back on Planet Earth, “Boston is no longer the enemy and money is no longer the answer — if, in fact, it ever really was.”
While the dinosaurs of the division were sleeping, the Tampa Bay Rays shot past both of them. The Rays return in 2009 a year older, a year more experienced, a year better. But not a penny more expensive. Unlike the Yankees, they win baseball games the old-fashioned way — on the field, not on the balance sheet.
And the Rays are not alone. Since the last time the Yankees actually won a world championship, 11 of the 16 teams to make it to the Series have come from decidedly middle-market cities, places such as St. Louis and Colorado and Detroit and, oh yeah, Tampa Bay, which until proven otherwise continues to be the best team in the AL East.
Once again, the Yankees remind us that they don’t really want to compete, they want to be coronated. Just hand them the rings now, because on paper, they can’t lose. George Steinbrenner may be out of the loop, but his philosophy of winning is alive and well.
But no one could have imagined the kind of shameless shopping spree the Yankees have been on this month — $161 million for CC Sabathia, $82.5 million for A.J. Burnett and a reported $180 million for Teixeira — at a time when more than 10 million Americans are out of work and another 4 million might join them in 2009.
But no matter. Those 4 million out of work will be offset by another 4 million, the ones who still can afford to pay their way into the new Yankee Stadium. And the luxury boxes, averaging a half-million dollars a pop, are at 100 percent capacity, scarfed up by those corporations who still can afford such luxuries, even if they have to use your tax money and mine to pay for them.
While many of the rest of us are struggling, the Yankees are making so much money that they can afford to give away two exhibition games. Making so much money that their luxury-tax bill for 2008, $26.9 million, is petty cash, slightly less than the Marlins pay for their entire roster and less than the Yankees pay for A-Rod.
Even for the prototypical Yankees fan — and you know who you are and what I’m talking about — this manner of excess is distasteful at best, wastefully insane at worst.
And besides, there’s no evidence that it actually, you know, works.
I guess it depends on how Matthews defines success. One post season absence in 14 years isn’t too shabby, nor was 4 million paid customers at Yankee Stadium in 2008. I’m hardly in a position to speak on behalf of Yankee fans but I have a sneaking suspicion another 3rd place finish would be considered far more distasteful than the fiscal largess Matthews deplores.
The Houston Chronicle’s Jonathan Feingen pointed out earlier today that Houston’s Ron Artest is now the 5th member of the Rockets to have signed a Chinese sneaker deal (Yao Ming remains in the Nike fold). As such, it seemed like an appropriate time to review some new fashion thoughts Artest shared with Slam Online’s Myles Brown.
SLAM: So I saw that post about tight pants on your blog. If you had to choose between a 30 game suspension or 15 games of wearing tight pants, which one would you go with?
RA: Well it’s not necessarily that. What it is, is people in the media—like I’m from a neighborhood where we wear things baggy. And you’ve got a lot of people who started out how I started out, but then they switched up and now they’ve got all these people following them and the wrong message is being sent out there. I just think the wrong message is being sent out there and people are doing things—I don’t have anything against gay people—but there’s subliminal messages like that, like that’s how you should be.
SLAM: So you think the tight pants are a gay thing?
RA: No. No. There’s many other things that’s happening too within the hip hop community and it’s been talked about a lot. People can’t really pinpoint it, but it’s just like hip hop was just so different back in the days and now they’re trying to add all this other stuff that’s not really—at least I don’t think—the truth. I can’t even go on the radio and hear a Styles P or a Jadakiss. I don’t even hear it no more. And I can’t go on MTV and see anybody hood, dressed like where the music really came from. So it’s always frustrating and it bothers me a lot, especially since I’m doing music. So I’m hoping—I’m praying—we get another Biggie. Jay Z, he’s getting older, so I’m praying we just get another Biggie so we can be on top again.
Bill DiFabio, a sports announcer from Washington, Pa., traditionally dresses up as Santa for the pre-Christmas press gathering and often pokes fun at the Steelers coach for a few moments. Former coach Bill Cowher often went along with the gag.
Mike Tomlin also played along initially, asking, “What have you got for me, Santa?” and inviting DiFabio to join him at his desk in front of the room.
But when DiFabio commandeered the news conference for more than five minutes, passing out gifts and cracking jokes about fellow sportscasters, the Browns and Cowboys, nose tackle Casey Hampton’s weight and the woebegone Pirates, Tomlin became impatient.
To end the unrehearsed skit, Tomlin — who could be heard sighing several times throughout the comedy bit — grudgingly agreed to toss a football to the fake Santa.
“If that will get you out of here,” Tomlin said.
Later, the Steelers said there would be no future appearances from Santa at any of their news conferences.
While Bobby Bonilla infamously offered to show Bob Klapisch the Bronx, the Bergen Record columnist uses his ESPN.com space Wednesday to show newly acquired Mets closer Francisco Rodriguez a big vial of Calm The Fuck Down pills.
Klapisch claims Rodriguez’ over the top theatrics are considered so distasteful, Mariano Rivera asked to be kept as far away as possible from his fellow reliever at last July’s All-Star Game. “If Rivera took exception to K-Rod’s two-handed point to the skies, imagine how the rest of the National League will feel about it in 2009,” warns Klapisch. “The Mets already have an image problem with the Phillies, and their new bullpen savior isn’t likely to improve matters.”
K-Rod’s celebrating profile will be layered atop Jose Reyes’ customized high-fiving after scoring an important run in a big game — outside the dugout. Such gloating, which has been part of the Mets’ legacy since the ’80s, has been steadily irritating opponents for the past four years.
But unlike the 1986 club, as arrogant as it was successful, the latter-day Mets have collapsed in the past two Septembers — choked, just as Hamels says. They’ve yet to win a pennant since the miniature renaissance began in 2006, despite an influx of marquee talent and the ballooning of the payroll over $130 million.
Without citing Reyes in particular, Manuel copped to the Mets’ immaturity. Indeed, one baseball executive said, “If you don’t think [the celebrating] has any consequence, then why does a team like the Marlins always love to stick it to the Mets?”
The implied answer, of course, is that the Marlins — who, despite being out of the playoff race, denied the Mets a playoff berth in the final weekends of the 2007 and 2008 seasons — were paying the Mets back for their showboating sins.
What happens, say, the first time K-Rod strikes out Ryan Howard to nail down a Mets victory at Citizens Bank Park? You don’t have to ask — Rodriguez will have his guns (OK, index fingers) blazing toward the heavens. It’ll certainly light the fuse, which, sooner or later in the summer, figures to ignite a fire.
While Klapisch might be correct in suggesting the Mets have an abundance of swagger for a team that hasn’t been to a World Series since Bill Clinton was President, surely Bob would agree New York’s blown save problem was of greater concern than an image problem. If the name of the game was making opponents happy, Omar Minaya would’ve made a deal for Eric Gagne.
If you were still wondering how the Yankees planned to replace Jason Giambi’s production, fear not, as SI.com’s Jon Heyman has the story bound to cause some Xmas teeth-gnashing in Boston (and equally likely to enrich Kevin Youkilis).
The Yankees have reached an agreement in principle to sign Mark Teixeira, SI.com has learned, beating out the rival Red Sox for the free-agent slugger’s services.
Teixeira, who hit .308 with 33 home runs and 121 RBIs in 2008, will receive an eight-year, $180 million deal from the Yankees with a full no-trade provision.
The final three teams in the race to sign Teixeira were the Red Sox, Nationals and Yankees. However, it was the Yankees who stepped their heavy pursuit of Teixeira on Tuesday.
While there were rumors that the Severna Park, Md., product preferred to be on the East Coast, there never was any real evidence of that. He loved his time in Anaheim and continued to live in the Dallas area, so those suggestions may have been overplayed.
Teixeira’s deal raises the Yankees’ offseason spending spree to $423.5 million. Just last Thursday, the Yankees completed agreements with two pitchers, giving CC Sabathia a $161 million, seven-year contract and A.J. Burnett an $82.5 million, five-year deal.
News of Teixeria’s acquisition hits the ‘net the same day the Yankees announced they’re selling bleacher seats for an April 3 exhibition with the Cubs for a mere 25 cents. It’s a heck of a gift horse to throw at a fan base gradually being priced out of the ballpark, one that should make the $10 beers taste all that much better.
Or, if the above headline strikes you as a poor-fit, David Williams proposes, “Hubris : It’s What’s For Dinner.” We’re a week away from the end of 2008, yet almost 20 clients of agent Scott Boras —- Derek Lowe, Manny Ramirez, Oliver Perez and Mark Teixeira amongst them — remain unsigned. While the Daily News‘ Bill Price argues the Mets oughta refrain from the Ollie bidding (”Perez is symbolic of everything that has been wrong with the Mets over the last two seasons”), the New York Times’ Michael Schmidt suggests, “the combination of Boras’s patience, team executives who are wary of the weakening economy, and the lack of movement in negotiations between Boras and teams for his premier client, Teixeira, has slowed the movement of the others.”
With teams dropping out of the bidding, or at least saying so, there is no clear path to a resolution for Boras and Teixeira. And, for that matter, there is no timetable for how quickly his other clients will sign.
According to a person in baseball briefed on the discussions between Boras and several teams, the Red Sox remain interested in signing Teixeira to an eight-year contract that would pay him $168 million to $172 million. The person said that Boras had told several people in baseball that the Angels were still interested in Teixeira.
Unless something happens quickly with Teixeira, it is likely that Felipe López will enter January as the only Boras client to sign with a new team. Major League Baseball shuts down between Christmas and New Year’s Day, although some agents and team executives continue to negotiate. That means that the high-profile players like Ramírez and Lowe and even the lesser-known ones like Willie Bloomquist and Álex Cora will remain uncertain of their 2009 destinations.
The San Francisco Chronicle’s John Crumpacker reports that for next Sunday’s home tilt with the Redskins, the 49′ers won’t merely be wearing throwback uni’s, they also plan to sport mustaches, in tribute to James Franco’s performance in “Milk” to Niners of yesteryear.
“Today is Mustache Monday,” Hill said a day after the 49ers rallied to beat the Rams 17-16 in St. Louis. “It’s for the throwback game. Every day we go to meetings and we go by these beautiful pictures and we admire these guys’ mustaches.”
On facing walls of a hallway just off the locker room in Santa Clara are black and white photos of those 49ers who spent at least 10 years with the club. Some of the greats of the past had mustaches of varying quality, among them Kevin Fagan, Mel Phillips, Roger Craig (a classic caterpillar that thankfully was short-lived), Ray Wersching, Keith Fahnhorst, Jerry Rice (in the form of a goatee), Jimmy Johnson, the late John Ayers and Randy Cross.
“Most of us have been working on our mustaches,” said Hill, who led the 49ers on two touchdown drives in the final seven minutes to beat the Rams. “I started four weeks ago. How bad is that?”
Hill said his offensive linemen instigated the ’staches in honor of their predecessors with an eye toward the throwback game in the finale.
“Every single day that we walk through here, you just can’t help but admire John Ayers’ mustache. It’s awesome,” Hill said.
Hill had to be informed that the one of his position predecessors, the greatest quarterback in franchise history, once had a mustache. Photos exist of a young Joe Montana sporting a Fu Manchu, although it is not on the wall of the facility.
Though I wish the Niners the best of luck this weekend, I must admit I’m surprised by their plans. I wasn’t aware Misprint’s distribution extended all the way to Northern California.
Milwaukee hosts Utah tomorrow night, but the Journal-Sentinel’s Michael Hunt preferred to focus on the past in his Sunday column, noting the Bucks trail only Celtics, Blazers, Suns and Knicks for the most player numbers retired (seven — Oscar Robertson, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Sidney Moncrief, Junior Bridgeman, Jon McGlocklin, Brian Winters and Bob Lanier). Glen Robinson’s no. 13 is currently worn by Luke Ridnour, and was previously donned by Mike James, leading Hunt to ask, “If the Bucks, in the time since Robinson left, have been willing to twice issue the number with which their second all-time scorer was synonymous, do they have any intention of retiring it? Does Robinson, who was traded six years ago after being arrested in a high-profile assault case, even deserve to be considered?”
What are the criteria? Should it be based solely on on-court achievement? Does the candidate also have to be a good and productive citizen like McGlocklin? Were McGlocklin and Winters worthy? How about Lanier, who played only 278 of his 959 games for the Bucks? Who’s next, if anyone at all?
That’s the easy part:
Marques Johnson and Bobby Dandridge.
Dandridge was an important piece of a championship team. Johnson starred for some of the greatest Bucks teams ever. If any more Bucks numbers are going to be retired, the next should be Johnson’s No. 8 and Dandridge’s No. 10, currently worn by Tyronn Lue.
Like Robinson, Johnson had off-the-court issues that he successfully overcame. Dandridge’s hard personality was difficult for the Bucks to manage at the time, but he has expressed regret for his behavior during his numerous trips back.
If those issues once stood in the way of the Bucks honoring Dandridge and Johnson, it’s way past time to move on.
The decision to retire a number apparently rests with a one-man committee, owner Herb Kohl, who was very fond of Robinson. No doubt it broke the senator’s heart when the Bucks were put in the position of having to trade him, not only because of the bad publicity from the arrest but also because Robinson’s career was in decline.
Time has a way of softening the past. But as for Robinson’s play, it would have to be on scoring alone because the rest of his game was limited at best. Had he made that open shot against Philadelphia to get the Bucks to the 2001 Finals, maybe it’s a different conversation. A better conversation for the Bucks is how wide, or limited, the field should be. If Robinson, why not Ray Allen?
The above clip of the Minutemen performing “Working Men Are Pissed” and the Urinals’ “Ack Ack Ack” at DC’s 9:30 Club in 1984 is posted to mark the 23rd anniversary of D. Boon’s passing. I’m sure those old enough to remember will concur that Xmas ‘85 was unusually rotten.
After Detroit’s 42-7 loss to the Saints on Sunday, Detroit News columnist Rob Parker spent several minutes grilling Rod Marinelli about the performance of his defensive coordinator — and son-in-law — Joe Barry and why Barry wasn’t fired for the team’s poor defensive production. After the often-intense exchange, Parker said, “On a lighter note — do you wish your daughter had married a better defensive coordinator?”
Marinelli didn’t respond at that time, but he addressed the situation today.
“Anytime you attack my daughter, I’ve got a problem with that. In a room of stink … and as a man and it was premeditated. I think there was something wrong with that, yeah.”
When asked if Parker had crossed the line, Marinelli said, “Big time.”
Marinelli refused to address two questions about what he meant by “room of stink.”
“I’ll leave it at that,” he said, adding that he had not talked to Parker and had no desire to do so.
On why he didn’t immediately respond to Parker’s question, Marinelli said: “I just don’t think that’s the right stage for that. To me, it’s not. It’s the wrong stage for the game of football and for me to even react to something like that, on a stage about football — it’s a kid’s game, it’s for the kids. It’s wrong.”
First of all, Parker’s attempt at humor, for which he’s already apologized, was a wildly inappropriate look-at-me moment, adding further insult to the injury of the Lions’ 0-15 campaign. But it was also genuinely funny (on paper, anyway, less so on video) and exactly the sort of thing any number of Lions fans must’ve said to themselves on prior occasions. Whether or not Parker’s job description ought to include acting like a blogger jerk is between he and his employers, but make no mistake, this was hardly an attack on Rod Marinelli’s daughter as much as it was an comment on the coach’s competency. There’s little good to be gained from badgering a man at the low ebb of his career, but had Parker dropped the “do you wish your daughter had married a better defensive coordinator?” line in print, the likes of Terry Bradshaw could well ask why he didn’t have the guts to say it to Marinelli’s face.
“We didn’t get it done,” said Jets DE Shaun Ellis after Sunday’s 13-3 loss at Seattle. “It wasn’t meant to be. We didn’t get it done when it counted.”
On the contrary, Ellis proved to the entire nation that while the Jets can be pushed around by a Seahawks team with nothing to play for, he knows precisely how to deal with the real enemy — snowball tossing Seattle fans.
…it just got a little bit worse, courtesy of the Stephen Baldwin photo gallery (link swiped from Tim Cook). I’ll say this much for the nation’s foremost evangelical action-sports presenter / anti-porn crusader ; he doesn’t embarrass easily. Why do I have a sneaky feeling his business interests and those of Stephon Marbury are on a collision course?
No! No, please do not do any of those things. I was thinking of something more along the lines of spending eight minutes watching what has to be one of the most viscerally challenging sporting events possible: a latke-eating contest. Newsday’s Patrick Whittle takes us inside something that has long been a Hannukah tradition in the Roth family, albeit with less competitive spirit and worse quotes:
["Furious" Pete] Czerwinski — a 6-foot-2, muscle-packed Canadian — downed 46 latkes and was still licking applesauce from his stubble when the eight-minute contest ended. Will Millender, a 380-pound Brooklyn community college student, came in second with 29 latkes.
Czerwinski’s demolition of about seven pounds of potato pancakes throughly eclipsed the 31 latkes consumed by Tom “Goose” Gilbert of Massachusetts in 2006 and is a new world record, said Arnie Chapman, chairman of the Association of Independent Competitive Eaters, which sanctioned the event at Zan’s Deli.
For Czerwinski, who has been eating competitively for about a year and has shot to the top of the AICE rankings, the win was a textbook case of beginner’s luck. He said he had never eaten a latke before. “I’m just a power eater. My brain never signals that I’m full,” said Czerwinski, 23, a mechanical engineering student.
Next up for Czerwinski: a fistful of Immodium and hopefully a guest verse or sung chorus on the next Eric “Badlands” Booker album. Strong Island’s own Booker is best known as an eater, but his most recent record — Hungry and Focused II: The Ingestion Engine — is described by this website, as “Innovative, competitive eating-themed, NY-style hip hop for all ages.” Which is great for him, but means he’s totally sitting in the marketing niche in which I’d envisioned my novel.
