Oklahoma State is restricting Lunt from transferring to either Southeastern Conference schools or Southern Miss, where Lunt’s former offensive coordinator Todd Monken is now the head coach.
Cowboys spokesman Gavin Lang confirmed the news via email after CBSSports.com spoke with a source with direct knowledge of Lunt’s transfer process. When asked why the SEC and Southern Miss were restricted, Lang said that decision is between Lunt and coach Mike Gundy.
The only SEC team Oklahoma State has on its immediate schedule is Mississippi State in 2013. Oklahoma State and Southern Mississippi are not currently scheduled to play.
When and if Gundy either finds himself to be a a free agent or in negotiations with another school, do you think his representative would seriously consider an offer from a university that asked their head coach to sign a non-compete clause? If Lunt is leaving on “good terms”, I’d hate to see what happens to student-athletes that Gundy doesn’t love nearly as much.
Cornered by reporters prior to MLB’s owner’s meetings in Manhattan this week, Mets owner Fred Wilpon (above, right) had little to say about Terry Collins’ job, Jordanny Valdespin’s attitude, Ike Davis’ allergy to hitting baseballs, those ridiculous alternate hats with the orange brims or much of anything else. Though conceding that Wilpon has left all of the heavy lifting in the public relations department (sorry, Jay) to GM Sandy Alderson (praised for his “cold-blooded approach”), the New York Post’s Ken Davidoff wonders if it wouldn’t kill the poorest greatest living Brooklyn Dodgers fan to occasionally act like he gives a shit.
If the Yankees are slumping, Steinbrenner will do his best Bill Clinton “I feel your pain” shtick and profess his concern, thereby validating the fans’ anxiety, and then let Brian Cashman, Joe Girardi and the players do their jobs. It’s a dash of love to the customers at a low cost.
I have criticized Wilpon for saying too much (while the Mets were being sued by Madoff trustee Irving Picard), so I’m reluctant to tear into him for saying too little. It becomes a Goldilocks situation.
Yet when there still exists such a large trust deficit between the Mets’ owners and their fans, it wouldn’t hurt Wilpon to announce that he, too, is hurting. With no major action on the immediate horizon, some minor sentiments could help soothe the raw feelings.
Jones is understood to have been furious after discovering the bloody carcass in his locker on Friday morning and threw a brick through the windscreen of Glenn Whelan’s car as revenge.
The picture of the pig was then posted on Instagram by American winger Brek Shea to heap embarrassment on Stoke, who have already begun an inquiry into the incident.
This latest practical joke comes days after Michael Owen’s Mercedes was pelted with eggs and flour, while it is understood other pranks have been taking place all week as Stoke prepare for their final game of the season.
It’s 5 days since Mets OF Jordanny Valdespin (above) was intentionally drilled by Pittsburgh’s Bryan Morris, an act that seemingly occurred with the passive consent of Mets skipper Terry Collins (embarrassed that Valdespin would admire a solo HR while on the wrong end of a blowout the previous night). With the Mets receiving some grief for the failure to protect Valdespin or retaliate the following afternoon, USA Today’s Bob Nightengale visited some NY veterans in the visitors clubhouse in St. Louis yesterday to get their take on the matter. “To read these reports how we don’t have his back and how we don’t care about him is absolutely ridiculous. It couldn’t be further from the truth,” argued team captain David Wright, though the most scathing criticism of Valdespin came from a reliever with far less service time in a Mets uniform.
“I couldn’t believe he did that,” Mets veteran reliever LaTroy Hawkins said. “We were all dumbfounded. It was a bonehead thing to do. And to do that against Jose Contreras? He’s old enough to be his father, and one of the nicest guys in the world.
“What were we supposed to do there?” Hawkins said. “We were down six runs, he hits a home run and he acts like it’s a walk-off. This isn’t Little League.
“What, now we’re supposed to get into a fight for that? We’re supposed to throw at somebody because he did a bonehead thing? Now, if they throw at him for no reason, that’s a different story. We protect our team. But to do what he did put us in a bad spot, a real bad spot.
“He showed absolutely no respect. If you’re going to pimp it, you’re going to suffer the consequences. I have no problem defending my teammates, but some things, you just can’t defend against.”
Who better to lay down the about matters of etiquette than the highly decorated mop-up man Hawkins? Maybe it took a full week for the message to sink in, but hopefully, Valdespin has come to understand they are some actions in baseball that are completely indefensible. And not showing proper deference to Jose Contreras after going deep against him is generally considered the worst atrocity of them all. If Valdespin is ever lucky enough to hit a home run against Contreras in the future, I for one hope he’ll immediately apologize, then refuse to run the bases.
(do you think Complete got to where they are today by asking strangers to write free reviews? Because they might wanna think about it)
…though in their defense, hardly anyone else does, either. The following Craigslist ad appeared earlier today (link courtesy Erick Bradshaw) :
My band, The Soon-Another is looking for indie music bloggers interested in reviewing our new album, Autodidact.
Some background info about the band: The Soon-Another originally formed in Lima, Peru and rapidly collected a local fan base. This indie pop/rock band erupts with vibrant colors and ironic anti-establishment lyrics, combining playful melodies and theatrical rhythms that reflect the band members’ distinctive musical and cultural backgrounds. Dual lead vocalists–one female and one male–tell poetic tales of romance, wanderlust, and volatile desires for independence. Whether plucking out ornate arrangements on acoustic guitar and thumb piano or rocking out to distorted electric guitar riffs and danceable synthesizer bass lines, the band is certainly eclectic but never lacking in musical integrity.
If you like our music and would be interested in writing an album review, respond to this post and let me know. Bloggers will be rewarded with free t-shirts, lots of gratitude and a shout-out at our next concert.
Hey, I don’t know how they do it in Peru, but in the USA we don’t take cheap short cuts like asking unpaid journalists to write reviews in exchange for t-shirts and shout-outs. Instead, we pay independent publicity firms to take badly paid journalists out for drinks (in exchange for cutting and pasting one-sheets verbatim).
“There have been ALF pogs and Steve Allen pogs, jazz albums, barbershop albums, Mary Worth telephones, Radioactive Man comic books, Biclops comic books, Poochie merchandise, video games like Bonestorm and Lee Carvallo’s Putting Challenge, Itchy & Scratchy animation cels, James Bond autographs, McBain posters, bootleg movies, a little boy’s soul … but no baseball cards.” Excepting Milhouse’s purchase of a 1973 Carl Yastrzemski card, have you ever noticed the mirror held up to “The Simpsons” most ardent fans, aka Comic Book Guy, doesn’t actually trade in baseball cards? This despite his establishment being called The Android’s Dungeon & Baseball Card Shop? OK, I never thought much about it, either, but SBN’s Larry Granillo is all over this one (link swiped from Repoz and Baseball Think Factory)
The evidence is everywhere. Sure, the store is stocked with the appropriate paraphernalia — that Isotopes pennant has been hanging on the wall for as long as I can remember — but it all feels much too staged. For example, why is there a Red Sox pennant hanging behind the counter? The Red Sox have nothing to do with Springfield, but there it hangs, just another little mask for Comic Book Guy to hide behind. Who knew the neckbeard would need a beard of his own?
And the 25-cent sleeve of cardholders that has been hanging on the wall for 24 years? Is there even one other sheet anywhere else in the store? They’re not for Magic or Pokemon cards, that’s for sure. No self-respecting collectible-card-game enthusiast would store his precious cards in such cheap plastic. No, that sleeve is camouflage, hoping to convince us that The Android’s Dungeon is a baseball-card shop. Same with the baseball on the shelf along the wall, or the various ballplayer photos and magazines that are set up occasionally. But we know the truth.
It’s time to end the charade, Jeffrey Albertson. There’s a reason we call you “Comic Book Guy” and not “Comic Book and Baseball Card Guy.” Stop living a lie. The Android’s Dungeon is no baseball-card shop and its proprietor is no baseball fan. You know it, I know it, the people of Springfield know it … and now the world knows it.
I like to kid around with this blog’s dozen or so readers, but the real fact of the matter is that we’re pretty similar. Sure, I make a lot more money than any of you, and my position as brains of the operation for professional sports’ premier franchise is the sort of thing your average Jimmy John’s delivery schlub can only dream of. But I don’t spend my entire existence in some ivory tower looking down at the rest of humanity. I engage with the real world, just like you. I can’t wait to see what Shia LaBeouf does next on the big screen (perhaps a remake of “The Elephant Man”?). I’ve preordered The National’s new album. Podcasts? Not only do I listen to John Gambling‘s religiously, wait ’til you hear mine.
So as you can see, I’m a pretty modern guy. There’s probably no one in this organization more in touch with popular culture — certain not the self-obsessed John Sterling, who’d favor “West Side Story” over “Loiter Squad” (IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN). Naturally, I’ve been right on top of this whole Amy’s Bakery story since it first broke. And while I’m well aware there’s few things less fashionable or politically expedient these days than standing up for someone trying to run a successful business, I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let Samy and Amy be torn to pieces by a high-tech lynch mob.
The parasites and cowards who insult this hard working couple make me ashamed to be an American. That Yelp provides a forum for the envious, the gutless and the anonymous to publicly smear the Bouzaglos is not without irony — this is the same company, after all, that went to great lengths to silence one of the only voices capable of articulating what separates a sleazy con game from a hard fought commitment to excellence.
So my heart goes out to Samy and Amy, a pair of proud entrepreneurs unwilling to let their dream be destroyed by the sort of internet punks who’d more than likely have their heads handed to them if ever ventured into the bleachers at the New Yankee Stadium. I mean, that’s not likely to happen given that most of these scumbags would require an advance payday loan to afford a ticket, but you get my point. The Bouzaglo family business reminds of the one I used to work for….at least before it was inherited by a pair of goofballs who seem to think a handsome salary makes my wiping their assess any less undignified or unfair.
I don’t make it out to Scottsdale very often — that’s where people go to die, right? —- but I would like Samy & Amy to know that if they are ever in the New York area (my friends at Fox’s “Red Eye” think Amy has serious potential). there’s a table waiting for them at NYY Steak. Perhaps we can cut loose and swap war stories about what it’s like try to feed and entertain a bunch of uncultured boobs. But what am I gonna do? Michael Kay’s entitled to an employee discount!
“Mike Woodson was supposed to be coming on, ladies and gentlemen. We didn’t lie to you. The New York Knicks organization backed out,” Smith said at the beginning of Wednesday’s show. “The coach didn’t back out because Mike Woodson wouldn’t do that — no matter what he says.”
An industry source said Woodson called Smith prior to the show and told him he would not be making his scheduled appearance. The station had promoted the Woodson segment during its morning programming.
“The New York Knicks (organization) pulled him, so be it,” Smith said on the air. “I don’t need to talk to Mike Woodson today. As much as the Knicks stunk out the joint last night, what the hell is there to say?”
From the entirely partisan perspective of someone whose favorite baseball team is 14-22 on the 14th of May, I’ll admit there’s some small consolation in the demolition plotting of Jeffrey Loria leaving the Miami Marlins in even worse shape. Taking a peak at the bigger picture, however, is the Miami Herald’s Armando Salguero, who accuses Loria — dubbed “the fire sale arsonist” — of doing even greater harm (“If rather than going to games or watching on TV or listening on radio, parents are teaching their kids to ignore the Marlins and baseball altogether, the damage Loria is doing to the sport won’t be contained to his team alone”).
The practice of baseball for the average fan is not conducted on a diamond but in the stands and the boxscore and the standings. And many people who have decided to ignore the Marlins because Loria has offended their sensibilities are no longer practicing at all.
some people down here probably aren’t aware that White Sox pitcher Chris Sale has won three of his past four outings and just threw a one-hitter. We’re too busy seething over a Marlins fire sale to notice Sale is on fire.
It means that perhaps the final season by the greatest reliever in major-league history is passing without our undivided attention.
The Rangers are winning without a big-time home run threat in their lineup. The Yankees are winning without four All-Stars in their lineup. The Indians are winning without a true ace on their pitching staff. (Zach McAllister? Justin Masterson? Really?)
Meanwhile, the Angels, Dodgers and Blue Jays are interesting because they promised so much and are delivering so little.
The scores of children growing up here now? If they invest in the game at all, they might just join that standing army of Yankees, Cubs and Red Sox fans.
Conventional wisdom has it that Mets skipper Terry Collins is the lamest of lame ducks ; saddled with a non-competitive roster and well on his way to a 3rd consecutive losing season in Flushing, only the most delusional person would believe he serves any purpose other than helping the franchise bide their time until whenever ownership can afford a pot to piss in. And with that in mind, perhaps Collins has rightly surmised he’s got nothing to lose. It’s unlikely Sandy Alderson will fire him in mid-season for anything less than ending Johan Santana’s career a second time a capital crime, and this pseudo teflon status has seemingly emboldened Collins to make OF Jordanny Valdespin an etiquette-offending scapegoat.
“I don’t answer to fans. They don’t play this game. They have no idea what goes on in there. They have absolutely no idea what it means to be a professional teammate. … I don’t care what the perception is. All I know is what goes on here. I’ve been doing this for 42 years. I don’t care what anybody on the outside thinks. I know how to get it done in the clubhouse. I’ve been doing it a lot longer than a lot of people.”
Indeed you have, Terry. In 8+ years of big league management, you’ve compiled a winning percentage of .493, and you’re presently tied with me with zero career postseason appearances. Persons quick to call you a charmless, small-minded retread who wouldn’t be working if the Mets could afford another option should stand corrected. You don’t answer to the fans. Obviously, you answer to Clint Hurdle.
So how do we account for the Washington Capitals — serial postseason underachievers — blowing a 3-2 series lead to the NY Rangers and failing to show up for last night’s 5-0, Game 7 loss at their own rink? Some will undoubtedly hail the heroics of Ranger netminder Henrik Lundqvist, but in the view of Caps winger Alexander Ovechkin, the fix was in. From WTOP.com :
In an interview with Salva Malamud, of Russian paper Sports-Express’, Ovechkin spoke Russian when he said, “I don’t know whether the refs were predisposed against us or the league. But not to give obvious penalties, while for us any little thing was immediately penalized…”
“The refereeing … you understand it yourself. How can there be no penalties at all (on one team) during the playoffs,” Ovechkin said.
He also told the reporter: “I am not saying there was a phone call from (the league), but someone just wanted Game 7. For the ratings. You know, the lockout, escrow, the league needs to make profit.”
Shaquille O’Neal has long been a wannabe cop. He says he was “raised” by the Newark Police; he’s a big supported of the Fraternal Order of Police (FOP) and a “reserve police officer” in a number of cities; on a “ride along” in Baton Rouge police internal affairs accused him (then cleared him) of flushing a suspect’s head in a toilet. His canceling of the movie furthers a 30-year campaign by the FOP to see that Mumia dies in prison.
Mumia supporters including the documentary filmmaker Stephen Vittoria demonstrated at the Newark theater. In Oakland protesters came to the NBA playoff game from the Oakland Teachers for Mumia, the Labor Action Committee to Free Mumia Abu-Jamal, and the Port Workers Solidarity Committee. The slogans on the pickets signs included: “Shame on Shaq”, “Show the Movie”, and “Say It Ain’t So Shaq”, and pointed out that while NBA superstar LeBron James spoke out for Trayvon Martin when that teenager was killed by a “reserve” wannabe cop, Shaquille O’Neal instead chose to attack Mumia.
Shortly after Tyson Chandler — not an entirely passive observer — suggested a paucity of ball movement has a role in the Knicks’ struggles with Indiana in the Eastern Conference Semis, the New York Daily News’ Mitch Lawrence took an opposing approach, declaring New York’s fate in the series rests entirely on whether or not Carmelo Anthony is willing to step up and hog the fuck out of the ball embrace his role (“Anthony didn’t shoot nearly enough in Game 3…and and now they’re staring at a 2-1 series hole because their superstar scorer failed to do what he’s paid millions to do”).
Anthony has to know that if the Knicks are going down in this round to a good Pacers team, but nowhere near a great team, he has got to go down shooting. He didn’t lead the league in scoring and place third in the MVP balloting, his best finish in his NBA career, because he was John Stockton passing the ball or because he did a bang-up job deferring to his teammates.
Late Saturday night, when he spoke on the podium, he knew he didn’t make a basket in the fourth quarter, but didn’t realize he had only taken three shots in nine-plus minutes of action. Like all of his playoff losses that don’t ever seem to bother him, his two-point fourth quarter also didn’t seem to sting him too badly.
“Everything comes down to making shots,’’ he said, “and we didn’t do that.”
“You are from the Dominican Republic. You are an older player. Older players don’t get better. You’ve had injuries consistent with steroid use. You showed up on the list from 2003. You fit all the formulas.” So wrote the Boston Globe’s resident shitstirrer, Dan Shaugnessy, who on Wednesday of this week, confronted Red Sox DH David Ortiz with a tone that could charitably be called accusatory (“in 2009, you didn’t hit a home run until May 20. Now this. You are Baseball Rambo. What is the difference?”) While Ortiz denied his hot start to the 2013 season was in any way chemically enhanced (along with implying his interrogator might be, y’know, a racist) , on Saturday, he mounted a subsequent defense, this time with Shaugnessy standing an open-hand slap away from the former’s locker. From WEEI.com’s Alex Speier :
“Look who it is,” Ortiz said.
He paused for a moment, then noted — loudly enough that all in the clubhouse were party to his address — that on the very day on which Shaughnessy interviewed him, he took a test for PEDs. Ortiz said he would be sure to pass along results of that test to the columnist. Ortiz became slightly more animated as he noted that he’d taken 40 tests administered by Major League Baseball.
“I’ve never tested positive,” Ortiz told the columnist, who had referenced the fact that the New York Times discovered in 2009 that the slugger had tested positive for a performance-enhancer in 2003 (at a time when a) there were no penalties for positive tests and b) test results were supposed to be anonymous).
When the report surfaced four years ago, Ortiz disputed that he had ever knowingly used PEDs, something that he mentioned anew to Shaughnessy as he walked towards the clubhouse door.
“By the way,” Ortiz said, “let me know what I tested positive for in 2003.”
Young was apprehended around 11:30 p.m. Friday in San Clemente, Calif. after he attempted to break into a home. When officers arrived at the scene, Young attempted to flee on foot. When cornered, he tried to fight the officers.
“There was a brief struggle,” Lt. Joe Balicki of the Orange County Sheriff’s Department told the Detroit News “He wanted to fight with the deputies. They ended up subduing him.”
Young is still in custody as of Sunday, according to multiple reports. He’s being held on $75,000 bond.
On May 5, Young was arrested for suspicion of driving under the influence after he was pulled over for an illegal left turn. He was arrested again, 15 hours later, for trying to steal his vehicle out of the impound lot.
Most professional athletes would have far too much pride to don a ridiculous costume like the one shown above, especially after allowing 8 runs in fewer than 5 innings. But not Mets P Jonathan Niese, who somehow managed to shrug off his rapidly escalating ERA (and any obligation to ask his relievers to stand up for Jordanny Valdespin) and entertain the several dozen paying customers who sat thru a 9th inning rain delay at Citi Field (with the home team trailing by 10 runs). Niese wasn’t alone in checking his ego at the door ; the aforementioned Valdespin more than did his part to generate a storyline that might in some small fashion, distract from the manner in which Sandy Alderson didn’t even wait until the All-Star break this year before his club started charging major league prices for minor league talent.
“Football is an ambiguous sport, depending both on grace and violence. It both glorifies and destroys bodies. At the time, I could not reconcile the apparent inconsistency.” If you’re thinking that sounds a little like Ricky Williams, well, you wouldn’t wrong, but instead, those words come from former New York Jets WR and 1969 Super Bowl standout George Sauer, who shuffled off this mortal coil earlier this week. As the New York Times’ Frank Litsky reminds us, Sauer eventually outgrew the gridiron lifestyle and wasn’t shy about saying so.
“When you get to the college and professional levels, the coaches still treat you as an adolescent,” he said in an interview in 1971 with the Institute for the Study of Sport and Society. “They know damn well that you were never given a chance to become responsible or self-disciplined. Even in the pros, you were told when to go to bed, when to turn your lights off, when to wake up, when to eat and what to eat. You even have to live and eat together like you were in a boys’ camp.”
Ten years later, he remained just as disillusioned. In an interview with The New York Times, he called professional football “a grotesque business” designed to “mold you into someone easy to manipulate.”
After leaving football, Sauer furthered an interest in writing, turning out novels, poetry and book reviews.
“He didn’t want to be anything but a poet and a writer,” John Dockery, a former Jets teammate and roommate during road games, recalled in a 2008 interview, “but he was given skills he didn’t want. He wanted something else. He walked away from the money, from everything, because it was too painful for him.”
Over the years, the LA Times’ T.J. Simers has made a (low) art form of consistently baiting the likes of Jeff Kent, Jim Mora and Dwight Howard, though it is fair to say the columnist must’ve been rubbing his hands with glee upon learning OF Josh Hamilton had signed a 5 year, $125 million contract with Angels prior to the 2013 season. Hamilton’s widely publicized religious beliefs either make him a role model or an object of ridicule, usually depending on his performance at the time (or whether or not you’re a Rangers fan). Even before tonight’s 0-5 outing in a 7-5 win at Chicago dropped Hamilton’s batting average to .206 (.612 OPS, .267 OBP), it would an understatement to say Simers was circling overhead. What follows might be Simers’ first demolition of Hamilton (“at least Dwight Howard works up a sweat…Hamilton comes across like the poster child for every athlete who knows he has guaranteed money coming”), but barring a sudden trade, suspension or retirement (of either party), it probably won’t be the last.
“I hear it from the stands every night,” Hamilton says. “You have to come to the understanding that people like to bring up your weaknesses and failures and throw them in your face.
“But it doesn’t get to me what anyone says. When you have the mind-set of what I have been forgiven for already, these people, these human beings bringing up things that God has already forgiven me for, it has no effect on me whatsoever.
“I will never ever satisfy or make 80% of the population understand me, love me or care anything for me. They will have no feel for me or understand what I stand for, which is my relationship with the Lord.”
The Angels signed him to hit baseballs. The facts are sometimes blunt, but most fans probably care more about his swing than his relationship with the Lord.
“I understand,” Hamilton said. “We’re all different. It depends on your starting point, and mine is the Bible.”
Given that context, he had dropped below the Methuselah line before being motivated by Page 2.
“Does it mention anywhere in the Bible,” I asked, “what it takes to hit more home runs?”
“It’s important to me to do well and that’s why I work hard to improve every day,” he said. “But when the game is over I stop thinking about it.”
Sitting in the section that became famous as the seats for former President George H.W. Bush and first lady Barbara Bush, a fan appearing to hold either a cigar or a hot dog weiner stood up and dangled it while Philip Humber pitched to Albert Pujols.
The fan appears to be right behind the prime two seats former Astros owner Drayton McLane and his wife Elizabeth used. Fans in those seats get plenty of air time on television, and the fan clearly timed his prank to appear on the telecast.
The Astros have monitored that section closely under new owner Jim Crane, but at this point the Astros say they don’t know the fan in question.
“I would never tell people how to spend their hard earned disposable income but sub 10,000 fans back to back nights to see the hottest team in baseball is not getting it done,” complained Indians reliever Frank Herrmann after a pair of midweek evening games versus Oakland were played to tens of thousands of empty seats at Progressive Field. To his credit, Herrmann set off a minor craze amongst teammates and management by giving away tickets via his Twitter account, though the Plain-Dealer’s Bud Shaw warns it’ll take more than 6 weeks of decent baseball to turn the tide (“It’s just so much easier to narrow it down to bad fans or cheap ownership and cover them up with blame”).
The Indians don’t need a hot month or two. They’ve been 30-15 as recently as two seasons ago after all. They don’t need a Cy Young candidate to attract big crowds. They had two winners in consecutive seasons. They need consecutive playoff appearances, and perhaps another World Series appearance, at the very least to move the needle. That’s the only way they’re going to put Indians’ tickets back on the family Christmas list.
The comparisons between the relatively blind allegiance awarded the Browns versus the tepid following of the Indians is as moot now as it was when closer Chris Perez raised it. This is a football town, which is not the same as saying it’s a terrible baseball town.
I once attended a press conference at Auburn where basketball coach Sonny Smith was announcing his departure, in part because he felt basketball was an afterthought in football-crazed Alabama. Head football coach Pat Dye, who was also the athletic director, made the announcement.
First question: “Sonny, tell us about your decision to leave.”
Second question: “Coach Dye, how’s football recruiting going?”
Cleveland isn’t quite Auburn, Ala. But waking up the sleeping giant in the 1990s required a new ballpark, a robust economy, an exciting team with a Murderer’s Row lineup, a poor division and the sense that October baseball was a given. Oh, and the Browns moving to Baltimore.