Friday, June 13, 2008

For Once in Its Life

For once in its life, the United States Golf Association decided not to monkey with its host course for the national championship. Torrey Pines, a public course in La Jolla, California, is from what I understand enough of a pain in the ass in the first place.

The rough is what you and I are used to when we go to our favorite hack-n-go track- gradual, but consistently unforgiving the more you decide not to obey the basics of swing form.

You hit it straight. The course has no qualm with you.
You as much as flinch the course takes out its ruler and finds your knuckles over and over again.

The only thing missing is the penguin.

The USGA is always looking for even par over 72 holes to be the yard mark for their champion. If you go under that level, then you have bettered Mother Nature and the USGA. Talk about a handicap match. If you don’t and you end up in black numbers, the powers-that-are shrug their shoulders, offer no forgiveness whatsoever, hand you a trophy, a long-time exemption, and a big check.

You’ve survived...

And Who Are You Again…???

You look at the last few years of winners and it’s almost a “Who’s Who” of “Who’s Who.” Angel Cabrera smoked three packs wandering around his last 18 on the way to a title. Geoff Ogilvy…??? He had a great shot pulled out of his bag to deny others a title. Michael Campbell survived and was the first Kiwi to win a Major. The only thing missing was a disrobing and a Haka dance. The last time anything was normal was 2004 when, going backwards, you get Retief Goosen, Jim Furyk, Tiger, Goosen again, and Tiger again in 2000.

They decided to pair the Top 12 players in the world with each other in the first two rounds worth of threesomes. Everyone looking at the Tiger, Phil, and Adam Scott grouping for either one of three reasons:

1) Gee, that Adam Scott is a cutie…
2) When is the first time that Phil is gonna say, “God, I was so stupid!”
3) Tiger’s quest to distract everyone from knee surgery with his wife and child wearing red
on a Sunday...

That’s cool and all, but it’s not what the National Championship is about.

It’s about a guy like Rickie Fowler, an amateur, who has played in Walker Cup competition, but not the US Open. No big deal- he shot a first-round, one-under par 70. He’s also the youngest guy in the field.

Kyle Stanley is another amateur, from Clemson University, who was in line for a collegiate title. That was until a final-round 82 blew that idea. Pro golf…? Not yet. Maybe in a few years… but that didn’t stop a Top-20 performance in his first 18 holes- a one-over par 72.

That Tiger guy…? He also shot 72.

What’s a Derek Fathauer…? He plays golf at the University of Louisville with his twin brother, Daryl. He wrapped up with a two-over par 73. So did some guy named Adam Scott.

Enough about the guys hanging around in the Top 31… look at the top of the leaderboard… The guys up there remind me of the year at that-golf-tournament-in-Augusta when Mike Donald was in the last pairing- before he imploded worse than Greg Norman ever could.

Justin Hicks had only been in the US Open once before- 2004. He missed the cut. Hicks has played the mini-tours in Florida. Apparently, one of his winner’s checks bounced ((I think I know what tour that was on)). That kind of a mentality leads to the idea of going for every pin on every hole. You have to take someone’s idea of the Country Club ((and someone else’s idea of a tour stop)) and beat the hell out of it to win. His first day resulted in seven birdies…

Seven… on Torrey Pines… He and his caddie decided they were going to catch a movie Thursday night. There was no way they were going to watch the highlights.

Who are you again…??? That Hicks guy led with a 3-under par score until someone else came along.

dot…dot…dot…

Kevin Streelman got into the Buick Invitational as the third alternate. He was even paired with that Tiger guy until his Saturday and Sunday rounds went 75-77. He’s a tour rookie and a Dookie. Try not to hold it against him. He hadn’t finished any higher than 14th in any of the events he’s played in this year.

Like that stopped him…

Five birdies on his front 9 ((the back nine on the course)) added with two bogeys gives him an out of 33. He birdies his 11th hole to go to four under par. Four under par… at the US Open… at Torrey Pines. But then you could see that the gravity of the situation was grabbing at him a little bit…

Okay… grabbing at him a lot…

The 7th Hole is a par-4 of 477 yards on Round One. He hits his drive into the first cut which means his second shot is a punch out. He needed a good angle for an up and down. The pitch was less-than-standard if you listened to the TV-types broadcasting. He needs to sink a putt that had to go about 18-feet, clear a ridge, and make a hard-left turn at the end… all for a PAR!!! So, what happens…? The ball takes the hard left ((like a 90-degree left)) and heads home. Streelman pumps his fist like he just nailed a birdie on the 71st hole instead of his 16th hole on a Thursday.

Dude’s entitled…

Some nervous chipping and putting gets him through the 9th hole ((his 18th on the day))- the 612-yard, par-5. And you could tell it was really getting to him by then. If he had a few more holes to play I think the wheels would have come off and rolled across traffic. But he was safely in as long as his math checked out and he could remember his name in the clubhouse.

So, while the rest of you go for seeing Tiger and Phil challenge each other in Mickelson’s back yard give me a Streelman or a Hicks going for their moment where the marine layer clears just in time for a putt that really means something by Sunday…

Play it safe, everyone… I’ll talk to you soon…

Friday, June 6, 2008

The NFL is Stupid (and Chad Johnson is, Too...)

Okay, this is one of those things that are just kind of nagging at me; sort of like a gnat buzzing around your face for no particular reason other than to be annoying.

Can someone please explain to me why everyone associated with America’s so-called “Favorite Sport” just acts stupid during the spring and summer? No, I’m not just talking about the players here, I’m talking about the owners and the league too.

Screw you guys, we’re striking...

No, there isn’t going to be a strike this season, it’s going to be in 2011! Why you ask? Well, it has something to do with labor negotiations, salary caps and structure; or to put it in English for the rest of us...everybody wants more money.

A couple of weeks ago the league and its owners met in Atlanta to discuss a myriad of issues (yeah, myriad is pretty big for me). Among them, such gems as fan behavior and the length of players hair - the “oh by the way” part is this; the owners have decided to opt out of the current labor agreement. They, being the owners, want to keep more of their money and don’t want the players to get as much as they do.

That unto itself is not sheer lunacy, the biggest problem with this; the owners are the ones who agreed to all this in the first place. So, to solve this problem, the 2010 season - not the next one - will be played without a salary cap. Of course as we all know, everyone will totally play fair in that!

More Caps...

Okay, for a few seconds, lets suspend reality and by into all this bullsh*t that the billionaires need more money and the millionaires need less. Hard to be sympathetic there...isn’t it?

The other “cap” issue that came out recently, unlimited rookie salaries. The NFL Players Association came out swinging against the Falcons and their top pick, Matt Ryan, for agreeing to a record setting rookie contract. I think it is something like 6 years for 72 or 78 Million with 34 Million guaranteed. Okay, I can buy the veteran players being upset about a bunch of unproven rookie players getting all that money without ever taking an NFL snap, that ain’t right...or fair. Here’s the problem, who agreed to “No rookie Salary Cap”? Uh, hello, Bueller? Bueller?

Guys, the only people who can put such things in place are you! Don’t hate Ryan for that, if someone is going to wave that in front of your face, are you going to say no?

OTA’s...

I’m not talking about “Organized Team Activities” here; I’m talking about “Off-season Team Arrests.” Yeah, I’m talking about any number of players here, the list grows yearly. The NFL of course has decided to “NOW” do something about this by instituting a “Team” fine system for teams with a track record of troubled players. Neat. Let’s see you enforce that, Rog.

Chad, Chris, Adam and Travis...

I know we are getting long-winded here, but I really want to mention this fine group of guys. No, Chad...or “Ocho-Stinko” as he is quickly becoming known...hasn’t been a habitual rule-breaker, but he has been a little, well, cheap. Seems 8-5 has developed a habit of not paying people the money he owes them, this list seems to grow by the week. He eventually does pay-up, but you apparently have to dog him for the money. Not good when your income is 7 figures a year.

Oh, by the way, Mr. Stinko has, along with his quality agent Drew Rosenhaus, decided to make life miserable for the Cincinnati Bengals until they get a new contract. Not that the old one was horrible, they want a better one. It seems “Ocho” is not going to do any voluntary work, but at this point will show up for camp, but he won’t be happy about it. Right now, Coach Marvin Lewis has just kind of ignored him, which is probably the best way to deal with this kind, gentle, team oriented soul.

Speaking of the Bengals, they finally parted ways with Receiver/Hoodlum Chris Henry this spring. After 7 arrests and various issues that were near arrests, they decided that Henry was “Too much of a distraction." Wonder why they thought that? Surprisingly, nobody has tried to sign Mr. Henry as we get close to training camp, though I suspect someone will, after all in the NFL, you never run out of second chances.

Real quickly, I have to mention Adam “Pacman” Jones and his attempt to rehab his image and get back into the league. Pacman was traded this summer, even though he isn’t eligible to play for anyone yet. Adam has tried to make himself over by handing out food and supplies with “Feed the Children” here in Atlanta. Nice gesture, but prove you mean it by coming back. Until you prove that you are a changed guy, you are going to have a hard time convincing anyone that you mean it.

Oh, can’t forget Travis (9 kid) Henry, now formerly of the Denver Broncos. Travis, dude, you can’t have drug issues, multiple children from multiple women and expect to support them on an NFL salary if you aren’t in the NFL. You can’t mail it in at work and expect to keep your job and well...it seems that is exactly what happened to you. Now what are you going to do?

That is a lot...

Yeah, that’s a lot of stuff; the scary thing is that I only scratched the surface. I’m really curious how this whole long range strike thing is going to work. I believe the NFL thinks that people won’t care, they are the NFL. I would argue that the arrogant folks who run that business are going to have a hard time getting anyone to sympathize with them over money. Most of us normal people…really can’t relate.

--Phil Cantor

“The time has come, my song is over, thought I’d something more to say”- Time (Pink Floyd)

Got a Bridge in Brooklyn...

NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman had an interesting exchange with “Hockey Night in Canada” host Ron McLean the other day. McLean was doing his standard heavyweight tête-à-tête with him ((as he always does)) and the subject of William “Boots” Del Biaggio came up.

For those of you behind the curve a little bit, Del Biaggio is the third in a current list of NHL owners or minority partners that have run afoul of the American government in the last month or so. Henry Samueli of the Anaheim Ducks and Eugene Melnyk of the Ottawa Senators are now joined by “Boots.”

And it ain’t pretty...

But if you take The Bettman at his word, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. All that is missing is your standard Kevin Bacon-Dressed in military garb-on a street corner screaming;

“STAY CALM! ALL IS WELL!!!”

Got A Bridge In Brooklyn Up For Sale...

Del Biaggio is now under investigation for allegedly working $17-million in loans with fake paperwork. Did he slide someone else’s finances in so he could get three separate loans for his own workings...? It’s being looked into...

Bettman told McLean that if you were a Nashville Predators fan, you had nothing to worry about. I call “B--- S---!” at this very moment. But that’s just me and my Chicken Little mentality where the fastest sport on ice is concerned.

Del Biaggio, apparently, put in close to $30-million to be a minority investor in the Preds since he couldn’t secure ten times that amount to buy the team and move them to a new arena in Kansas City that is screaming for a primary tenant. Everything’s fine, right...?

Right…??? Stay calm…??? All is well…???

If memory serves, the Preds barely made their self-imposed quota for an attendance figure to keep the team afloat in town. If they didn’t make it, the owners ((in whatever shape or form they’re in currently)) could bail on the agreement with the city and seek another fortune elsewhere. They haven’t done that...

Yet...

And you’d think that if the confidence the rest of the group is showing were to amount into something, they’d already have someone ready to take over in Del Biaggio’s slot. But I haven’t seen Vince Gill, Amy Grant, Kenny Chesney, or Garth Brooks’ names mentioned as suitors- potential or otherwise. Little Jimmy Dickens...??? Anyone...???

Or no one...

The Bettman hasn’t flinched in Anaheim, Ottawa, or Nashville.
I think he needs to...
But I know he won’t unless it’s kicking and screaming...

dot...dot...dot...

But I do know someone who could be on the table if the commissioner could take some ego ((probably more like super ego)) off the table, and think about what’s best for the league.

Enter Jim Balsillie...
Again...

A report came out in the Toronto Star newspaper that, according to Balsillie spokesman Richard Rodier, the genius that invented the Crackberry has had contact from as many as eight different teams about becoming their owner- future location be damned.

The roster includes, but is not limited to, the Atlanta Thrashers, the Carolina Hurricanes, the Tampa Bay Lightning, and the Dallas Stars. I would venture to guess the Florida Panthers and the Phoenix Coyotes are in there. For the sake of argument, let’s throw in Columbus and Nashville. Balsillie wants no part of moving a current-Canadian franchise to move them to a Hamilton/Waterloo location.

We’ve been through this dance before, but the dynamic is a little different now. To no one’s surprise a report has come to light claiming that the franchises north of the border are carrying the league’s profit margin these days. If they weren’t around, growth would be in the neighborhood of only three percent- the standard rate of inflation.

With the strength of the Loonie and Toonie against uncle Sam these days, it would be silly not to consider one of the world’s richest men ((and hockey fans)) if he wants to continue the potential growth in a potential growth market. Balsillie offered $175-million US to buy the Penguins, and $238-million US to take control of the Predators.

He’s proven that he’s more than willing to overpay for a product to get a starved area another outlet for entertainment- and for Balsillie fun and profit.

Analyzing for a second...

  • Atlanta’s ownership group hasn’t shown a willingness in the current marketplace to spend the necessary money to succeed.
  • Peter Karmanos won’t sell a majority stake…unless seats continue to stay empty.
  • Tampa might be a contender if the new owners can’t get their act straight.
  • Tom Hicks won’t sell a majority stake, either.
  • Wayne Huizenga uses the Panthers as a write-off for the Dolphins.
  • Phoenix is hemorrhaging $30-million a year in the middle of nowhere...
  • Columbus putters along...
  • Nashville is Nashville...

So, then, the contenders would be Atlanta, Nashville, and Phoenix...

Each ready for the owners to exit through the tunnel…and each franchise south of the Mason-Dixon line...

Send the guy in Ontario a text message...
I’m sure he’ll answer...

Play it safe, everyone... I’ll talk to you soon...

--Jon Nelson

Like Father, Like Son...

Whether you’re a fan of the New York Yankees or not you had to respect them under Joe Torre’s watch. Torre didn’t take crap from George Steinbrenner and protected his players from the boss’ wrath. Now Torre is gone, enjoying the laid back lifestyle in Los Angeles. His old team is reverting back to its pre-Torre ways and the boss is yelling at the employees. This time George Steinbrenner isn’t micro-managing the team into chaos, it’s his son Hank.

Hank’s first act was a low ball offer to Joe Torre and off he went to L.A. Now Hank is imposing his will on player personnel issues. Case in point, Joba Chamberlain.

Image
Joba Chamberlain

The Yankees has arguably the best bullpen in the American League if not baseball and Chamberlain was the perfect set up man for Marino Rivera. That wasn’t enough for Hank Steinbrenner, Boss, Jr. wanted Joba Chamberlain to start so, Joe Girardi did just that Tuesday night against the Toronto Blue Jays. Chamberlain’s night, he threw 62 pitches in 2 and 1/3 innings and gave up 2 runs. But the Yankees lost a big element to their bullpen which reared its ugly head later in the game. The bullpen imploded because of Chamberlain’s absence as the Blue Jays pounced on Edwar Ramirez for 4 runs in the 7th to blow the game wide open.

Hank Steinbrenner called it a work in progress. You think. This is how papa George ruined the Yankees in the 80’s with the low point being a last place finish in the American League East in 1990. Interfering with his employees who know baseball and not letting them do their jobs. This kind of micromanagement usually gets you mediocrity at best (sound familiar Washington Redskin fans). ((Editor's Note: Wilkie, that was cruel - yet totally true.)) Where are the Yankees right now? Next to last place in the American League East.

Already this move is being questioned in the Yankee clubhouse. Johnny Damon was asked by John Harper of the New York Daily News if he would have kept Chamberlain in the bullpen. Damon’s response was “You know what, it’s not up to me but I like winning ball games.”

So go ahead Hank, keep imposing your will. You might drive the Yankees to a finish not seen in 18 years in the Bronx - last place. What a hell of a way to close out Yankee Stadium.

That's it, I'm spent.

--John Wilkerson

Koo-Koo For CoCo Crisp...

OK, shoot me later for the cheesy title, but it is unerringly appropriate. BoSox outfielder Crisp has been a loose cannon over the last two days, and finally went snap, crackle, pop against Tampa Bay pitcher James Shields.

Image
(Photo courtesy Michael Dwyer, AP, June 5, 2008)

Nice photo – for a print photographer. (insert photog joke here).

See, what had happened was...

Crisp came into Thursday’s game looking for a fight anyway. Crisp jammed his thumb on shortstop Jason Bartlett’s knee during a stolen base headfirst slide into second base Wednesday night. A few innings later, Crisp retaliated by wiping out Rays’ second baseman Akinori Iwamura – causing words between Crisp and Rays' manager Joe Maddon.

After the game, Crisp said something to the effect of, “They’re mad at me? Well, we’ll see who shows they’re mad at me.”

Ultimatums shouldn’t be thrown down to people who thrown 90mph BB’s at your head. Just my $0.02.

The ultimatum was answered when Shields plunked Dustin Pedroia in the very first inning of last night’s game. The sh*t really hit the proverbial fan when Shields beaned Crisp a short time later. Raise your hand if you didn’t see that coming. Anyone?

Then the benches cleared, people started swinging at each other (refer to above photo), and people were ejected (Crisp, Shields, and Rays’ outfielder Jonny Gomes). I gotta give props to Crisp for ducking out of the way of Shields’ out-of-control roundhouse swing...

But We’re Not Done...

Something else happened in the BoSox dugout, and I’m not sure why. Kevin Youkilis and Manny Ramirez got into a shouting match at one another, and had to be restrained. An Offspring song comes to mind here...”You gotta keep it separated!”

I have no idea why those two got into a battle of words, but I’m sure it was for something very trivial. Manny pointed at Kevin, Kevin shouted at Manny, Manny was escorted out of the dugout. Terry Francona said after the game that the “emotions were still running high after the brawl.”

Wait a minute, I thought they were fighting the Rays…not each other.

Anyway, baseball has always had the understood reaction of “You plunk my guy, I’m gonna plunk your guy.” It’s the nature of baseball. Chin music is a part of the game, like it or not.

But retaliating for a jammed thumb?

Dude, get a grip. You’re not Pete Rose.

If you can’t handle the slide, stay at first base.

I’m not usually this deep, just deep in it. Trust me.

--John V. Wood

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Celtics/Lakers Rivalry Renewed

All is right now in the NBA. The league’s two cornerstone franchises, the Boston Celtics and the Los Angeles Lakers are facing each other in the NBA Finals. The old-timers will recall the battles between Bob Cousy and Elgin Baylor then later Bill Russell and Wilt Chamberlin. Those from my generation remember the great rivalry in the 80’s with Larry Bird and Magic Johnson continuing a battle that began in college.

While it’s great to see Celtics and the Lakers back on the big stage playing in prime time for the NBA Championship but to me it’s just not the same.The 2 teams back in the 80’s were polar opposites.Boston was blue collar, tough and physical.The L.A. Lakers were flash and style, it was Showtime.The Celtics played in the Boston Garden. Built in the 1920’s it was small, uncomfortable and unaccommodating for the opposition.The Lakers played at The Forum, The Fabulous Forum with the courtside seats aligned with Hollywood Stars.Each building, like their teams, was unique.

Today the Celtics play in the T.D. Bankworth Garden and the Lakers play in the Staples Center. If it weren’t for the floor with the teams colors you could not tell the buildings apart. They are cookie cutters.

Those games in the 1980’s were a turf war. Remember when Ray Williams threw down Kurt Rambis after a hard foul or Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Larry Bird shouting out each other. The Lakers wanted to out run the Celtics while Boston wanted to play a physical half court game to slow down Showtime. I don’t see Paul Pierce and Lamar Odom shoving each other on the floor or Pau Gasol and Kevin Garnett wrestling after the play is over. That’s not today’s NBA.

There are some things similar to the ‘80’s first and foremost is star power.Back then it was Bird and Magic.Now it’s Kobe and Garnett.Second Boston again has the Big 3.Then it was Bird, Parrish and McHale, now it’s Garnett, Allen and Pierce.Third the Celtics still were green and the Lakers still were purple and gold.

I’m sure the NBA is thrilled for this match up. It might bring the older fans back to the league who remember the hey day of the NBA in the 80’s to rediscover and reinvest in the league. I will be watching because it is Lakers vs Celtics and they are the best teams in the league and the NBA’s gold standard franchises. Still, it’s just not the same.

--John Wilkerson

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Thanks, Coach Mc...

John McDonnell is entering the bell lap of his remarkable career as Head Coach of the Arkansas Razorback Track and Field team. McDonnell was Frank Broyles first hire we he became Athletic Director at Arkansas. Broyles told me a month ago how he hired John McDonnell as Head Track and Field Coach at Arkansas. In the mid 1970’s while still coaching the football team, Broyles saw a young coach leading the cross country team on a run. An hour later, McDonnell was still leading the team and right then Broyles decided to hire him to coach the track team. And as they say, the rest is history.

All he has accomplished in 36 years in Fayetteville is win 42 National Championships which includes 11 NCAA cross country titles, 19 NCAA Indoor Track and Field and 12 NCAA Outdoor Track and Field Championships. By far more McDonnell has won more national championships than any other coach in the history of college athletics. He also lead the Hogs to 5 national triple crowns which is winning NCAA titles in cross country, indoor and outdoor track in the same academic year.

I remember a story former Arkansas head basketball coach Nolan Richardson shared 10 years ago talking about McDonnell. You see Richardson and McDonnell were neighbors in Bud Walton Arena; there offices were next to each other. Richardson told the story of how he returned from Charlotte, N.C. after winning the NCAA Championship feeling pretty good about what he accomplished until he walked by McDonnell’s office and saw all the national championship trophies he had collected and at that time in was in the 30’s. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so good because Richardson knew he could never catch up.

You want some more mind boggling numbers. John McDonnell has won 84 conference championships but here’s an accomplishment that to me is off the charts. The last time Arkansas did not win a conference championship in cross country was 1972. McDonnell won 17 Southwest Conference and 17 Southeastern Conference championships in cross country. That’s 34 in a row during his long tenure coaching the Hogs.

While McDonnell’s teams have routinely outrun their opponents, McDonnell knows he can’t outrun father time. He will turn 70 in July and knew it was time to move on. He made his decision this past winter and made it official in April. McDonnell still has work to do. Arkansas should compete for a NCAA in outdoor track & field this June in Eugene, Oregon. Should the Hogs stand on top of the podium it will be McDonnell’s 43rd National Championship. After that McDonnell will hang up the whistle and trade his track shoes for a pair of boots. McDonnell’s days will be spent on his 2,500 cattle ranch in Eastern Oklahoma.

John Wooden and Paul “Bear” Bryant dominated their high profile sports of men’s basketball and football. There are others who are above their peers; Pat Summitt and Anson Dorrance come to mind. Who’s the greatest coach ever in college athletics? I believe John McDonnell’s body of work at Arkansas gives him that distention. Enjoy your retirement Coach Mc. There will never be another one like you.

That's it, I'm spent.

--John Wilkerson

Call...or No Call?

As a former high school basketball referee, it has been pounded into my brain that no game should ever end on a whistle. “The best ref is an invisible one,” my Nevada game assignor used to tell me. “Let them play, and let them win or lose on their own.”

I actually watched Game Four of the Western Conference finals between the Lakers and the Spurs the other night. Surprising I know, seeing as how the OSG spend most of our time ragging on how bad the sport is (Hey, I have 300 channels, and nothing else was on at the time).

Sure, I watched the Spurs let a 7-point lead slide away into magic nowhere during the last 50 seconds or so of the game. Offense wins games; defense wins championships.

As a referee, when calling a foul you look at whether or not the shooter was impeded from making a shot. You have to make that call in a split-second. I cannot blame Joey Crawford, Joe Forte and Mark Wunderlich – at all. Until you’ve had a whistle in your mouth during a pressure situation, you have no idea how difficult the job is.

Image
Photo courtesy Jerry Lara / San Antonio Express-News

It was Crawford’s call, and his whistle was silent. In my opinion, Barry did not sell the foul enough. Kobe Bryant would have pulled out a Ric Flair flop. Barry just went up and took the off-balance shot. In my humble opinion, Crawford did not want to put a free throw shooter on the line with virtually no time left – possibly sending the game into overtime (FYI, Barry is a 95% free throw shooter on the year).

Not that Crawford ignored a sure foul – he’s been around too long to do that. He, in my opinion, just looked at the situation and deemed in not "enough" of a foul to warrant ending the game on a whistle. I’m sure if Fisher would have knocked Barry down and back across the half-court line, Crawford would have blown the whistle three ways from Sunday.

See, people all over the country – Spurs’ fans, sports radio announcers, troublemakers – are saying the NBA screwed up again. After the Tim Donaghy scandal, people are looking at referees with a microscope. If Crawford would have called that foul, he would have pissed off all the Laker fans for a ticky-tack foul. Damned if you do, and all that.

Even looking at the replay – yes, I will admit there was some contact – but I agree that there was not enough of a shot adjustment to warrant a foul call. Now, the NBA had to go make the situation a lot worse by saying the Spurs got screwed. Who the hell do they think they are? Leaving Crawford out on a limb to hang high and dry – that’s bullsh*t in my opinion. Support your longtime, SOLID referee. Don’t backstab him.

The NBA should have kept their damn mouths closed. They had no right to get into the woods and kick the dead skunk. All they did was stir up one damn bad smell. What they should have done was come out and said, “You know, it’s a tough call. He made it, the game’s over, we have three more to play.”

Of course, when has the No Brains Association EVER made the right decision?

I’m not usually this deep, just deep in it. Trust me.

Reverend Pullhook

Brother Phil and I were out playing golf the other day…

Actually, to be more honest, we were just losing golf balls in some of the worst conditions we’ve ever played in. It was one of those courses that we all have in whatever town we live in.

The fairways aren’t fair...
The greens aren’t green...
And the hazards could scare the ever-living hell out of the local Civil Defense guys.

The guy who designed the course made the best of the situation, or was a direct descendant of Snidely Whiplash. Pick the most incredulous idea for where a hole ((and a hole location, for that matter)) should be- it’s there. This guy woke up on the wrong side of the planet and decided that his course design would resemble what the mind of a 4-year-old would make playing in a sandbox in his back yard.

Whomever felt compelled to call themselves “Greenskeeper” was an abject failure. There were sand traps on multiple greens, and divots that hadn’t been replaced on the same greens that had the bunkers on the other half. A putt could be heading for the hole for one of those rare pars either one of us had on the day, and the damn thing would take a right turn that would bring a red mark from any Driver Ed. Instructor.

But we’ve all been there...

You Sure This Is A Par-61...???

It’s not what the course did to you. It’s what you did on the course.

They call these kind of courses - “Executive.”

I call them “Executions.”

Even if there were transformers buzzing all kinds of electrical energy over your head. And, yes, they could reach out at any wayward moment and grab a ball you misplayed and shock the hell out of it. There was foam in the retention pond on the 2nd Hole- right next to the perpetual goose toilet for a tee box.

The sign, very wisely, pointed out there was to be no swimming or fishing. What it didn’t tell you was that the birthplace for the “Simpsons” three-eyed fish was what you were walking around.

The 8th Hole is, probably, best described as golf’s version of Chinese Handcuffs. The tee box was 208 yards away from pay dirt. Trees cover the cart path on the left. A ditch is under the trees that flank the right side of the chasm- right up to the green. Good luck with your long iron ((or in Phil’s case, a 3-wood that destroyed a few tree limbs as the ball disappeared into the afternoon)).

Balls dropped into hamstring-high rough - never to be found.
And the woods were laughing at their ill-swung gains...
But I took a leak in the woods on the 11th tee box.

We were even...

dot...dot...dot...

By the time we got to 16, my game was so bad, I couldn’t help but curse at myself for how bad I had become. Pull-hooks that never existed had emerged from some kind of anxiety closet that I couldn’t barricade with billy-clubbed cops.

So, I got a wild hair...

I teed up a ball ((initially a swoosh-brand, but Phil swapped out a crapper)) on the back of the green and wanted my shot at the electrical power station on top of the other mountain.

“Dude, there’s no way you’ll get it there,” Phil convinced me.

That didn’t keep me from taking my shot.

“I’m aiming for the shed in the front,” thinking that somewhere my driver would make up for all the bad ideas that ran through my hands for the last three hours.

He was right...

Reverend Pullhook and his chorus of perpetual laughter in four-part harmony drove something low and right a good 100 yards short of the target born in a moment of poorly-thought out machismo.

“You can hit it out there, but not that ‘out there.’”

Thanks for the reminder...

The lesson came on 18...

A 162-yard par three that was fairly straight, had bunkers on the right side of the green, and divots on the left side of the green. I pulled out an 8-iron.

And the Right Reverend was out to lunch...

12 feet for birdie and an easy tap in for par...

It’s holes like that that give you that sense of accomplishment. You’ve conquered someone else’s ideas of geography and geometry.

Snidely Whiplash be damned... Phil and I will be back...

Just not with our lunar landers for our next round...

And you will, too... Don’t lie...

Play it safe, everyone... talk to you soon...

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

End of an Era

Tuesday started out as just another day at Sportsnet. Nothing huge was on the schedule, so I started working on a CFL season preview piece.

All of a sudden, word came down from the bad boys at Sportsnet that Damon Allen was retiring. Next thing I know I was working like mad to put together a Damon Allen career retrospective. Wednesday, Allen will say goodbye to the Argos and say goodbye to his remarkable 22-year football career.

Blessed with rare genetics, Allen broke into the CFL in 1985. Consider this. Allen was named the outstanding offensive player in the 1987, the 1993 and the 2004 Grey Cup. Allen threw for more yards than any other quarterback in the history of pro football.

Allen’s dad swung a hammer in the hot Southern California sun for years in order to provide a good home for his family. Allen’s dad also infused his sons Damon and Marcus with the kind of drive and work ethic necessary to make it in pro football.

Putting the piece together, it was amazing to see some of the old footage of a young Allen gliding around his offensive tackle to break off a long run. I say “glide” because that’s the only word I can come up with to describe the smooth way in which Allen used to run through CFL defences. I can still remember like it was yesterday when Allen came off the bench in the 1987 Grey Cup and led the Eskimos to an incredible win over the Argos.

After a solid stint with the BC Lions, Allen arrived in Toronto in 2003 amid whispers around the league that he was washed up. At the age of 41 he led the Argos to the Grey Cup and was named the game's top player. At the age of 42 he won his first and only Most Outstanding Player award of his career.

Approaching his 45th birthday, father time has finally caught to up the seemingly ageless Allen. I find it hard to believe the CFL will ever see another quarterback who plays as long and puts together the kind of epic numbers that Allen accumulated over two-plus decades of pro football.

I have had the pleasure to get to know Allen over the years. Of all the stories that come to mind when talking about his career, there is one that sticks out above the rest. Two nights before the 2004 Grey Cup, the Argos held a team dinner. Damon Allen stood up and looked each and every player in the eye and told them he didn’t want to win Sunday’s game for himself. He said he wanted to win that game for all of them. Receiver Michael Palmer told me next year at training camp that he got a lump in his throat when Allen gave his speech. It was a great example of the kind of leadership that Allen was never given proper credit for.

Allen is not a man or a player without fault. But no one can ever take away his incredible career numbers.

More importantly, no once can ever deny the fact that Damon Allen took his game to another level in the Grey Cup.

--Jim "Clubber" Lang

One of Sportsnet's most versatile reporters, Jim covers the Leafs beat, can be seen regularly on Connected and can be read weekly on Sportsnet.ca.


(This blog republished with permission from its author)

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

We're Baaaaaaaaaaack!

Yes, we are back. The OSG is back and we are badder than ever. We’ve missed everyone over the past several months, but we are damn glad that you are coming back. For those of you new to us, sit down, get comfortable and take a look around - the OSG is Sports, all Sports, nothing but Sports all the damn time!

We’ve been Busy...

There’s been a lot going on, in all of our lives and jobs and everything in between. For me, hell, I’ve been all over the place, the adventures still continue and in some cases they’ve been stranger than ever.

February…

I’m skipping January because J-Dub graciously posted my story about the Georgia/Hawaii Football game (The Sugar Bowl). Take a look if you have a minute, it was a lot of fun and there were a couple of funny photos in there.

The other big story was the Falcons hiring yet another new coach, Mike Smith. When he was hired, there was a collective “Huh?”, but as we’ve gotten to know the guy, we’ve grown to like him and wish him nothing but the best of luck - he’s going to need it.

February as usual was Braves Spring Training. Spring Training is always a lot of fun, probably one of my favorite things to cover and there are always a ton of interesting and fun stories to tell. This year, intrepid Sports Anchor Mark Harmon and I got to meet the Quilt Lady, she and her friends were a hoot. Their main objective- to get everyone who plays for the Braves to sign the Quilt.

There were a few other good laughs in there, family dinner with the other TV Crews is always a highlight, and this year was really special. It was WSB-TV Sports Anchor Bill Hartman’s last, he’s retiring in September (future column and possible OSG Radio Interview). Bill spent the evening at the Columbia Restaurant telling stories from when he got in the business back around 1969 or 70. Very cool stuff about things like Jerry Quarry and Muhammed Ali, historical stories, things that have never been talked about much, I can’t say enough about how much fun it is to hear Bill tell these stories.

March…

March, well, it certainly lived up to the “March Madness” nickname. Brother Wilkie touched on the Tornado-strewn SEC Basketball tournament, I was there as well and let me just say, “I’ve seen a lot of things, but I damn sure ain’t seen anything like that.” It was just a scheduling fluke that I wasn’t at the Georgia Dome when the tornado hit, with Georgia playing late (after 10pm) we decided not to go because we couldn’t turn anything for the 11pm News.

Standing on the floor of Georgia Tech’s basketball arena watching the SEC tournament on that Saturday had to be one of the most surreal things I’ve ever seen. Seeing Georgia win the first game against Kentucky wasn’t much of a surprise, you could tell 5 minutes in that it was going to happen. Seeing them win, then beat Mississippi State 4 hours later…no way. Seeing them win the next afternoon over Arkansas…never.

Three days later, I found myself on the floor of the (_____ insert phone company here) Arena in Washington D.C watching the Bulldogs prepare to play Xavier in the first round of the NCAA tournament and the only thing I could think was, "How the hell did this happen?"

April…

April didn’t offer tons of relief. Masters Week came a week later than normal, but it came…and went…and was over before we knew it. There really wasn’t a whole lot of intrigue or excitement, the tournament just kind of happened. I guess for lack of anything else, the highlight of the week was the new and improved press dining area (yes, they have one of those). It actually had food other than the traditional bagged sandwiches and it was pretty good.

The biggest of the strange sights of the past few months would have to be the Hawks and the 1st round of the NBA Playoffs. I’ve got to say, if you had said “How are the Hawks going to do against the Celtics in the Playoffs?” I would have said “They are going to get swept.” Well, not only did that not happen, they gave the city of Atlanta and the NBA world notice, “You better take us seriously.” I’ve got to say, the sight of a full Philips Arena and the deafening sound of the crowd was one of the most exciting settings I’ve been around in a long time. For game 3, I turn around and right behind me on the floor, Rapper T.I. and a little later I saw Jermaine Dupri in the crowd. There were old Hawks and new Falcons; it was an actual event surrounding a basketball game, something not seen in a long, long time in Atlanta.

The other highlight would be the NFL Draft. The Falcons picked former Boston College quarterback Matt Ryan. Again, there were more than a few raised eyebrows over that one, but the more we see and interact with Ryan, the more we believe that he just may be the “Real Deal” (No, not Evander Holyfield).

May…

There hasn’t, thankfully, been as much going on in May and that quite frankly is a good thing. There have been the traditional Braves stories, a few football stories and a few other odds and ends - but no holy crap moments.

Today…

This brings us to today, the grand, triumphant return of the OSG. Hopefully it will be more successful than other such returns like the Four Horseman or Degeneration X but only time will tell. We just want you to keep reading, keep checking us out and keep in touch. We’ve got a lot of things that we are working on, if they are successful, you’ll be seeing us a lot more often in a bunch more places. Yes, like everyone else on the Internet, we have a plan for Global Domination, the plan is still coming together, but with your help it WILL come to fruition and we will be able to entertain and inform in the best way possible.

--Phil Cantor

"The time has come, my song is over, thought I’d something more to say”- Time (Pink Floyd)

Friday, May 16, 2008

Just Plain Weird...

I have been to many big events with huge crowds but what I witnessed Sunday during the final of the SEC Tournament was bizarre. I was one of 1,500 invited guests at Alexander Memorial Coliseum on the Georgia Tech campus that witnessed Georgia’s most improbable run to a SEC Championship. It was more of a State High School Tournament atmosphere complete with the old school buzzer in the arena. All that was missing was the Booster Club selling bad hot dogs and microwave pizzas at the concession stand.

The 2008 SEC Tournament was just plain weird. First, what are the odds of a F2 Tornado ripping through downtown Atlanta and damaging the Georgia Dome while the game is still going on!!! I’m glad I left the building a hour and a half before all hell broke loose. That the Georgia Bulldogs had to play and also win 2 games on Saturday with the Dogs first game vs Kentucky going overtime, then win the SEC title on Sunday on sheer guts and lastly, cutting the nets in the building of it’s bitter in-state rival, Georgia Tech.

Looking back on the series of events this weekend at the SEC Tournament, it’s easy to be tougue and cheek over this but in all seriousness, the Southeastern Conference had a herculean task ahead of them. Executive Associate Commissioner Mark Womack and his entire staff made the best of an extreme situation and pulled it off. Think about all the logistics that had to be worked out. Finding a venue, getting cooperation from the athletic directors of the remaining schools playing and the television partners to re-schedule the games and what to do with the fans who travelled with their teams, these were all challenges for the SEC. I asked Womack Sunday how much sleep he’s gotten and Mark just smiled and said "Not very much."

Next year, the ACC Tournament takes place at the Georgia Dome and yes, they do have a plan in case all hell breaks loose again in downtown Atlanta. But if I reveal it, they would have to kill me.

That’s it, I’m spent.

--John Wilkerson

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Jumping Through Hoops...

Gators Aren’t Dead

For those who thought the Florida Gators would have a down year after the departures of Joakim Noah, Corey Brewer, Al Horford, Taurean Green and Lee Humphery seriously underestimated this team. Granted, all the five-some did was win back to back national championships but Billy Donovan has reloaded with a new team that I don’t think you want to play during February and March. Check the SEC standings. Florida is leading the SEC East by a half game over Tennessee. The Gators meet the Vols on February 5th in Knoxville. You get the feeling in the SEC that the Billy Donovan/Bruce Pearl rivalry might turn into on the Phil Fulmer & Steve Spurrier had in football with both schools?

The Gators are extremely young but very talented. The veterans on the Gator team are Junior Walter Hodge and Sophomores Marreese Speights and Dan Werner. But its been the 2 freshman Jai Lucas and Nick Calathes who have shined, especially Calathes whose 117 assists tops the SEC by a significant margin. Calathes also leads the team in scoring averaging 16 points per game.

Will the Gators make in a three peat? I don’t think so. Final Four, well that wouldn’t surprise me. Florida just might make a run come tournament time.

Who’s The Worst In College Hoops?

Funny you should ask. It’s New Jersey Institute of Technology. The Highlanders are 0-21 this season and have only lost in single digits once, by 9 to Stony Brook on December 10th and Stony Brook has one won only 4 games. I’m sure the atmosphere is electric of N.J.I.T. games are the brand new Prudential Center, the same building the New Jersey Devils call home. Here’s hoping the Highlanders have one highlight this year.

Al Davis Is Senile

Al Davis has lost his mind. Someone needs to tell him it’s not 1968 and Darryl Lamonica is bird hunting somewhere in Northern California, not getting ready for mini-camp. That Cliff Branch now runs a 6.4 40 at age 50 something. That Lester Haynes hands have fallen off from years of stickum abuse.

By now you have heard the Al the terrible has sent a letter to Lane Kiffin requesting his resignation as the head coach of the Oakland Raiders. Kiffin is not budging. I’m having Mike Shanahan flashbacks for 20 years ago when Al Davis fired him and refused to honor the rest of the contract. That will happen to Kiffin or Al Davis’ boys will take Lane Kiffin for a ride and he will never be heard from again.

Al Davis Starter Kit

Finally, Washington Redskins owner Dan Snyder is messing with his fantasy team. His head coach, Joe Gibbs, got the hell out. So what does Snyder do? Instead of hiring Defensive Coordinator Gregg Williams, he fires him and to be fair, cans Offensive Coordinator Al Saunders. Now Snyder is hiring assistant coaches before he hires a head coach. I think Snyder wants a puppet on the sidelines, so Kermit the Frog is probably the favorite. For me I don’t care. I’m a Dallas Cowboys fan and love to see the hated Redskins in disarray.

Seriously though, Jim Fassel is reportedly the front runner for the job. My guess is that Mr. Snyder will through most of his Millions at Steve Mariucci. Just a hunch.

That’s it, I’m spent.

--John Wilkerson

Friday, December 21, 2007

Bigger Than You...

There are times in the television business when you realize that there are people at play that are a lot bigger than you- or anyone else around you for that matter. It can come across in a simple gesture, or in a gesture of many acting as one. The power is the same from either source.

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And the story will stay with you always…

96…

The first time I met Chris Johnson was when he was a Sophomore at Northside High School. Depending on what part of the state of Georgia you live in, it’s either “Northside” or “Northside-Warner Robins.” You get in to the semantics of geography since there is more than one city that holds the title.

Chris was in street clothes for the state championship game in Statesboro in December of 2005.

He wouldn’t be playing, and I knew why.

He couldn’t play football.

He had a higher set of priorities and worries.

He was fighting leukemia.

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He seemed like every normal 15-year-old- hat slightly off-center, over-sized, striped, collared shirt, and baggy blue jean shorts. He was quiet on the sidelines for the game in Statesboro and just kind of took everything in. I asked him how he was. He said he was “all right.” I told him that I hoped he would get well quickly, and I went on working that sideline for the night. I admit, now, that I would look over at him every now and then. I would wonder what he and his family were going through. I had a good guess, and it’s never a pretty one.

He kept on fighting, and I kept on working.

For the 2006 season, I visited Warner Robins a few times for games. Once was for their in-town rival game where Northside would play Warner Robins. Chris went through the banner as football players do. But he did it in a wheelchair this time around. His mother, “Miss Pat” as she is known, was driving him through the paper and grass over to the sideline. She did it again for the state title game against The Marist School. During the season it became crystal clear that the Johnsons were spending the standard “boatload” of money for their son’s care. The Northside community started a “Quarters for Chris” campaign at home games, and asked anyone with change to spare to donate it to help fray the costs.

It helped some, and Northside won their first state title for head Coach Conrad Nix at home that night last year. Twenty years of work at the school, in two different shifts, and Nix got his first ring.

Chris still fought, and I still worked.

That is, until June…

Chris lost his battle, but the team never forgot.

The number “96” was emblazoned everywhere on campus. Football players had the number placed on their jerseys over their hearts as a memorial. When the home turf was decorated, the team asked the number be painted in the endzone. The offensive linemen would gather in a circle and pray around his number before games. There were “96” stickers on every helmet without fail.

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And what a lot of people outside of middle Georgia don’t know is- the quiet kid came out of his shell. He became a spokesman for bone marrow donation in his community. He would encourage others, old and young, through their cancer treatments as he persevered through his own at the children’s hospital. It didn’t matter what you looked like. It didn’t matter if you were a fan of some other school. He unified an entire community that is normally divided in their allegiances by the road that bisects Warner Robins at its mid-section. In a military town, it was the football player who stood ramrod straight in the face of a disease and gave it his best shot.

All this from a kid who didn’t even make it to the age of 18 like his teammates and classmates did.

Which left this nationally-ranked team in an emotional void for what would have been Chris’ senior season.

A community, a school, friends, and family all needed closure. But how does something like that come for someone who has left such a mark on those he touched…?

The team marched through the regular season, at one point losing their star quarterback to a broken bone in his leg, and steam-rolled people in the first three rounds of the playoffs. No points allowed… which gave them the chance to play a suburban-Atlanta school, Tucker High School, in the state semi-finals. Tucker’s speed seemed to get to the Eagles in the first half as they broke out to a 28-7 lead.

But then the world tilted…

The injured QB, Marquez Ivory, returned to start the second half. It was common knowledge that he would play- ahead of schedule- but no one knew how much. Ivory found receivers all second half long. He completed 11 out of 16 for 305 yards and three scores. Two of those TD passes were to Kevyn Cooper for 69 and 82 yards. After the game, Kevyn was asked about it. He said that there was no doubt in his mind that Chris was there helping him catch those passes.

You see… Kevyn, Marquez, and Chris were best of friends.

A field goal with 12 seconds left gave Northside the win to advance to the state finals.

dot…dot…dot…

The way the state finals worked was, that if both teams were top seeded in their region, it would come down to a coin flip to decide where the game would be played. Ware County High School Head Coach Dan Ragle won the toss, and got to host the game three hours away from Warner Robins- in Waycross.

Tickets were at such a premium that people were driving from Waycross to Warner Robins to see if they could get in that way. The coaches told me, at their mid-week radio show, that something special was planned for the entrance onto the field.

A photo of Chris from the year before, smiling and flashing a “peace” sign, was reproduced and placed in the middle of the banner. The cheerleaders holding the banner aloft seemed confused as the Eagles walked AROUND it, escorting a poster of Chris in his uniform from his 9th-grade year at the front of the procession.

They played, understandably, with too much emotion for the first half… the first three quarters, really… and they trailed the underdog Gators 16-13. The 4,000 fans that made the trip were given a piece of poster board with that “96” on it. They were asked to hold it aloft as a show of support- telling the world that Chris was their “12th Man.”

I’m not normally distracted by the atmosphere of my job. But when those signs were held in the air as we headed to commercial, I got goose bumps. I understood. And so did the kids on the field.

A play that the Eagles hadn’t used since a pre-season scrimmage, a half-back option pass, got the team the win and back-to-back titles- 20-16.

Head Coach Conrad Nix told the Johnsons, Chris’ father Ovie and “Miss Pat,” that if there was something- anything- he could do to give them closure where Chris was concerned he would do his best. Ovie rode the team bus down to Waycross for the title game, and was on the sidelines for as many games as I could count. He gave a pre-game speech at the pre-game meal before the championship, and even went as far as telling the team he wanted some gator-skin boots.

Chris was the only player on the roster in all capital letters. He was at the top of the tackle charts, and he was never far away from everyone.

And there was a lot of karma at play- if you believe in that stuff…

Going into the title game, I’ll give you one guess as to how many points the team had given up…

Going into the semi-finals, I’ll give you one guess as to how many minutes were left in the team’s season.

And, after that school week had been completed, I’ll give you one guess as to how many school days were left in the calendar year.

Yep…

And, since he was the “12th Man,” I’ll give you one guess as to what number is evenly-divisible by 12.

For all the rallying, for all the chanting of a number that meant so much to so many people, and for all the pain that one family has gone through losing someone so young, you can only hope that the championship brought some kind of closure to the family in some small way.

Chris loved football. And an entire football team and town loved him back…

They still do.

And I have a good feeling that he saw the whole thing unfold right in front of him…

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Play it safe everyone, I’ll talk to you soon…

--Jon Nelson


Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Petrino Makes Perfect Sense

Knowing incoming Arkansas athletic director Jeff Long’s track record of hiring head football coaches, I figured the Long would hire a washed up former NFL head coach to lead the Razorbacks. This is the same guy who hired the Wanstache while AD at Pittsburgh. I had prepared myself for Norv Turner, Cam Cameron and when current Oakland Raiders Head Coach Lane Kiffen was on the initial list, I wasn’t shocked. It made perfect sense. There was the flirtation with Tommy Bowden and Jim Grobe but they like life in the ACC. Then Bobby Petrino emerged and Tuesday night said the hell with the Atlanta Falcons and came to the Ozarks as the new Head Football Coach at Arkansas.

If you are going to hire a washed up NFL head coach this is the guy. Petrino took Louisville to unprecedented heights, 2 conference titles and a BCS Bowl. However, Petrino doesn’t like to stay bogged down at one place. What are the odds Petrino remains at Arkansas for the 5 years of his contract?

By the way, I know Arthur Blank is worth billions of dollars but after the year he has had as owner of the Atlanta Falcons, I wouldn’t blame Blank for going on an all night drinking binge in fact, I would buy the first round. But king Arthur would probably want the $500 bottle of single malt scotch and that is a little out of my price range.

Back to Petrino, at Louisville he worked with Chris Redman and Brian Brohm on the college level at quarterback. Who does he inherit at Arkansas? Casey Dick. If Petrino can turn Dick into Clint Stoerner or even Barry Lunney, Jr. he’s earned his 7-figure income.

Darren McFadden will go pro. Petrino now must convince Felix Jones to return for his senior year. That will be like selling ice to the Eskimos. Without Jones, who are your offensive weapons?

I sound like a grumpy Razorback fan. I, as someone who bleeds Razorback Red, like the hire. I just hope he doesn’t have U-Haul on his Fav-5 list.

That's it, I'm spent.

--John Wilkerson

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

The Chase is Over

What seems to be the longest, death march of a record-setting chase is finally over. It took entirely too long to come to fruition. But now it finally has.

Thank ((insert divine being here))!!!!!

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And counting, I'm sure. We all know that the gentleman wants to get 3,000 hits before his, ahem, esteemed career comes to a close.

And I've been over the whole thing for quite some time...

I'm not a big Major League Baseball fan, anymore. I kind of grew out of the sport after the strike in the mid-1990's. Guys complaining about money and self-worth. Owners complaining that there isn't enough money to go around.

"Whatever to the both of you! And a pox on both your houses!" I said at the time.

I keep a casual interest in the sport, just to the idea that I "have" to know what's going on at any given moment. The same thing applies for professional wrestling these days with me. And you know what? Both activities are strangely similar. And I still wish a pox on both your houses.

Before you go and complain... sit down for a second...
It's either everyone's fault, or no one's fault. I choose to look at the former.

I choose not to look at Bonds, who is without a doubt, the poster child for this drug-induced assault on the history books. But I'm looking at an entire era of athletes that have taken advantage of a system set in place ((or, probably to be more accurate- not set at all)) for their own personal, financial and statistical benefit. I look at Ken Caminiti, Brady Anderson, Eric Gagne, Mark McGwire, and Sammy Sosa just as much as I do a player like "25."

I look at John Rocker, Rafael Palmeiro, Roger Clemens and all the owners and Commissioners that have passed through any turnstile or business office just as much as I do our current homerun champ.

The whole process is disgusting...as was the turning of that phrase that ended the last paragraph.

Players take advantage of a system. Owners and personnel turn their heads and cough.
All of them have not only soiled the very game we all grew up idolizing ((and all the records that were accomplished within)), but have soiled themselves in the process. We all need to shower and grab a change of clothes.

It's only fitting that the record was set in "25's" home stadium. The response he got in Los Angeles was nothing short of expected. San Diegans wanted to boo- and to cheer- simultaneously. The easy-going ones wanted it both ways. Boo until he gets to the plate. Cheer when he makes an out. Cheer louder when he hits 755 off Clay Hensley ((himself server of a steroid suspension in the minors)). Boo their own pitchers when they choose to pitch around him. Greg Maddux being the only savior in the weekend. "Doggie" played with Bonds' mind saying he'd walk him so as not to get tagged with the 755 moniker. What does he do? Challenge him and send "25" home- going oh-fer-four.

Chicks may dig the longball, but I dig the artistry of the backwards "k" in the scorebook just as much.

San Franciscans have chosen to wear the rose-colored glasses the entire time. And that's their prerogative. If they choose not to see the extremes a truly talented player went to to make himself better than those before him instead of believing in his God-given abilities- it's his fault for not having faith in himself, but having the hubris of a hundred men to want to see his name in every history book from now until Doomsday- asterisk be damned.

Would "25" have been a Hall of Famer without enhancement- still unproven, but alleged from every mountaintop? Absolutely.

But the greed of wanting that "little extra" turned into "a lot extra." And I don't think that one of the most surly stars of this generation could give a tinker's damn about what the rest of us think one way or the other about him.

Included, godfather Willie Mays, who seemed ignored by "25" when they were on the field together after 756. And you know... you KNOW... Hank Aaron will collect some big favor someday for reading the cue card and prepared statement of congratulations after the fact. The heart-felt love and appreciation shown by "25" to the big screen almost reminded me of a bad buddy movie, I-love-you-man moment that sends the release straight to DVD shelves and cable television.

What do we get instead in all of this?

We get Bud Selig, hands in pockets, fishing for car keys and the closest exit while "25" circled the bases after 755. We get Jimmy Lee Solomon from the league office to represent The Game. Or was it Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio? Mary Stuart Masterson? Joe Don Looney? Joe Don Baker?

Jimmy Crack Corn... you know the rest...

dot...dot...dot...

But what they say about karma may return to the ballpark one day. It always gets a hand stamp. I'm still waiting for it to tap David Stern and Gary Bettman on the shoulder.

I don't think any one of us could root for Alex Rodriguez any harder or any faster these days.
I can't believe I just volunteered that information, either.

And where was "Commissioner" Selig? Meeting with George Mitchell and his toothless committee results trying to determine which major leaguer he could blackmail into testifying next.

Genius...
Absolute genius...

Will people remember the names Clay Hensley and Mike Bacsik? Maybe as much as Jack Billingsley and Al Downing...
Will people remember the "chase?" Probably.
Will people remember the sunken feeling in the pits of their stomach around the country after the chase ended?

One can only hope... this wasn't fun to watch at all.

Play it safe, everyone... I'll talk to you soon...

--Jon Nelson

Highlighting a Lowlight...

It was approximately a half an hour before show time Thursday night when a chorus of 'Holy #@&(@!' and 'Oh my god!' swept through the newsroom. Those of us who were busy preparing for Connected ran over to the television screen where a number of people had gathered to see what the heck was going on. We soon saw a replay of one of the most horrific spills I'd ever seen that had just occurred during the Big Air Skateboarding event at the X-Games in Los Angeles.

Jake Brown (courtesy EXPN)After pulling off a difficult 720 rotation, skateboarder Jake Brown lost control on the quarterpipe, and plunged more than 40 feet onto the wooden ramp below. His limp body was not moving. ESPN quickly cut out of their coverage and went to alternate programming… a move that had us all convinced Brown had died. A decision was immediately made to take the X-Games skateboarding highlights out of our show in case the worst had happened.

But wait! After laying motionless on the ramp for almost five minutes… Brown miraculously got up and walked away from the spill without being scooped off the halfpipe with a shovel! ESPN went back to the X-Games live to show the good news and video of the nasty fall was quickly re-inserted into our show. That decision just about as quickly launched a huge debate in the newsroom.

Why had we taken the video out of the show in the first place? Should we not have shown the video of the accident regardless of Brown walking away from the scene or not? If someone was paralyzed or killed during a sporting event, wouldn't it now become news? Should we not show that? Someone made the point that showing the video would have reinforced to kids that skateboarding and extreme sports are dangerous stuff. Not a bad argument.

It also made some of us wonder why ESPN bailed out of their coverage? Should they not have stayed with it? Think about how often we've seen horrific hits in hockey where a player goes down on the ice unconscious only to be carried off in a stretcher. Does the TV station airing the game cut out of the game and show poker until they know for sure the player is OK? Of course not.

That being said, how many times have you seen Greg Moore's fatal car crash or Alex Zanardi's racecar being sliced in half? I'm guessing not very often, if at all since those separate accidents. Many television stations have chosen not to replay the horrific tragedies.

Play sports director for a moment. What do you think viewers should see? Should we have shown Brown's skateboarding crash even if he had not walked away from the fall? Or do you hold off until more details come in? The decision is about as hard as Brown's fall…who for the record suffered only a slight concussion and a bruised liver

--Martine Gaillard


(This blog republished with permission from its author)

Friday, August 3, 2007

Elect Art Monk!

OK, I’m pissed. Big surprise, I know.

When Michael Irvin is enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame on Saturday, one of the biggest travesties in football history will have taken place.

I’m not saying this as a Washington Redskins fan; I’m saying this as a football fan.

"ELECT ART MONK!"

Art MonkArt has more receptions than Michael (940 vs. 750), more total yards (12,721 vs. 11,904), and more touchdowns (68 vs. 65). Michael, however, does have a higher yard-per-reception average (15.9 vs. 13.5).

Both receivers won three Super Bowls, and both went to multiple Pro Bowls.

Also, Art Monk has NEVER been arrested on drug possession charges. Art has NEVER been accused of sexually assaulting a woman in Charlotte, with a gun to her head, while videotaping the whole sordid affair.

Art Monk is a true philanthropist in the Washington area, creating the Art Monk Football Camp that has graduated over 14,000 athletes. A big section of those athletes have gone on to play college ball.

Art also joined up with former Redskin defensive end Charles Mann to form the Good Samaritan Foundation, whereas Irvin can’t even spell the word “samaritan.”

OK, Hall voters…you tell me. Compare the two men, and tell me WHY IN THE HELL did Irvin get in, and Monk has not?

Hell, Andre Reed should have gotten in long before Michael Irvin.

People say, “But he was ‘The Playmaker.” Big f**king deal. Just because you’re flashy, that doesn’t overshadow productivity and class.

Some have said, “Art wasn’t the friendliest player to the media when he was with Washington, so they’re not going to vote him in.” OK, being in the media, I can say that how a player deals with us on a day-to-day basis does have something to do with how we cover him. But, come the hell on, you want to keep a man like Monk out of Canton because he didn’t have a bubbly personality? WTF?!?

Look at what Hall of Fame cornerback Ronnie Lott said about Art Monk:

"You have a Hall of Fame for all it represents. I know he represents all that it's about," said Lott. "Integrity, love and passion for the game, community, what he gave back. Look how he conducted himself. Nobody I know deserves it more."

What has Irvin given back to the game? Bad suits? Stupid laugh? An arrest record?

MSNBC columnist Bill Williamson penned a column today, saying Irvin was lucky to get into the HOF when he did. Here's an excerpt:

"NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell has to sit through Michael Irvin’s induction into the Pro Football Hall of Fame this weekend. You got to know what’s going to be zipping through No-Tolerance Rog’s mind as Irvin pontificates on his greatness in the sticky summer afternoon heat. 'This wouldn’t be happening on my watch.'"

Washington Post sportswriter Thomas Loverro had this to say about Monk:

"He embodied the old school, and for that alone he should be enshrined so that when a father takes his son through the Hall of Fame, he can say, 'Son, here is a man who once caught 106 passes in a season when no one was catching 100 passes. Here was a man who caught a pass in 183 straight games. And not once did he ever pull a cell phone out to make a call after any of those catches.'"

The HOF voters need to pull their heads out of their asses, and do the right thing. So what if 2 out of the “Dallas Triplets” are now in the HOF (Aikman, Irvin)? People forget about the ORIGINAL Triplets in Washington – Monk, Gary Clark, and Ricky Sanders (none of whom are in the HOF).

They were the beginning. They were the real deal. They were doing their thing long before Troy Aikman ever stepped foot on a UCLA football field. When Aikman accepted a scholarship to play for Barry Switzer at OU in 1984, Monk was catching 106 passes in his fifth season in the NFL. NO ONE was catching over 100 passes in a season back then.

Quit placating the Dallas Cowboys. Quit stroking Michael’s over-extended ego.

Give credit where credit is f**king due.

"ELECT ART MONK!"

I’m not usually this deep, just deep in it. Trust me.

--John V. Wood

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Band-Aid Approach

Okay, so now we have moved on to Stage 2 of the Continuing Saga of the Summer of Seven. Stage 1, like most problems, is admitting that there is a problem. That part got taken care of when the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Richmond took the information they had to a grand jury and that Grand Jury issued indictments based on that information.

Just Stay Away...

So, here we are a week after the indictment and the second act begins. It begins with the NFL handing down a letter to Mr. Michael Vick stating, "Do not attend training camp until we’ve had a chance to further review your situation" (that may be a paraphrase—but you get the gist of it).

This part of the story from multiple published reports was born out of Mr. Vick deciding that he didn’t think he needed to skip camp (this isn’t a joke). The NFL, the NFLPA and the Atlanta Falcons all felt that yes, he did need to skip camp. That, at least temporarily, created a bit of an impasse.

That impasse was resolved when the Commissioner of the NFL (and by the way...what a crappy time to be a pro-sports commissioner right now) Roger Goodell came down with the "Letter."

Why a Letter?

The Jolly Roger came up with this letter according again to "Published Reports" because the Falcons were going to just "Suspend Vick for 4 Games."

That would have been a disaster. The NFLPA would have been forced to contest the suspension, it would have ended up in the hands of an arbitrator and all the while, Mr. Vick would have been able to play.

The Falcons...

Image

I had the chance to attend the Atlanta Falcons Press Conference regarding Mr. Vick this past Tuesday. Roughly 20 or so cameras, 40-50 reporters, and a couple of protestors outside the building attended the presser.

Click here to see a slideshow of Phil's Falcons pictures!

I do have to compliment the Falcons on this—they have tried to be as upfront as they can be considering the legal ramifications of what is going on (they can’t officially say much). Despite this, they have to try and explain why they don't want the face/highest-paid player/starting quarterback to be around the team right now. Team Owner Arthur Blank went as far as to say, "Mike should consider sitting out and getting his house in order right now."

That is what it boils down to—getting his house in order. You can talk all you want about how "He has to be guilty," "He’s done," "He should be locked up for what he's done," etc. The fact is, as of right now, it hasn’t been proven that he has done any of the things he’s accused of. Even Michael Vick is innocent until proven guilty, that is still how things are supposed to work here in the U.S.

How will they cope?

That will be Act 3. The Falcons will survive. A certain part of their fan base will be disappointed because they probably will not have a "great" season this year. They’ll blame it on not having their Quarterback.

That won’t have anything to do with it. The fact of the matter is that they are a team in the beginning stages of a complete overhaul and won’t be good for another year or two. They will eventually be a good football team, but it more than likely will not be with Michael Vick at the helm. That isn’t to say that he is going to be convicted in court or not, but rather that he’s played his last game as an Atlanta Falcon and quite possibly his last game in the NFL.

--Phil Cantor

“The Time has come, my song is over, thought I’d something more to say” Time- Pink Floyd

Thursday, July 19, 2007

It's All in the Numbers

Josh HamiltonIn baseball, like most sports, numbers are a big part of the game. Hoy many homers did Barry Juiced hit last night? How many RBI’s does Alex Rodriguez have? It was just yesterday that the Phillies recorded their 10,000 loss as a franchise. Numbers, in baseball, are important.

For Josh Hamilton, life and baseball, are ALL ABOUT THE NUMBERS.

Take, for instance, the number 1999. That’s the year Josh graduated high school from Athens Drive in Raleigh, NC and was named Baseball America’s High School Player of the Year.

Number 1 - the Devil Rays first draft pick in 1999.

The number .302 was Josh’s batting average in 2000, his first as professional. 13 was the number of homers Josh hit that year. He was also the youngest player in the All-Star futures game that year where he went 3-4.

2/28/2001 is another number that is important. That’s the day that Josh was in a motorcycle accident in Bradenton, Florida. It’s also that day he that led to him becoming addicted to pain killers and A LOT more…

2/18/2004 - that’s the day that Josh was suspended from Major League Baseball for violating the league’s joint drug treatment and prevention program.

The number 15 is the number of baseball games Josh played in 2004-2006, because of failed drug tests. Baseball has counted him out. He was down to his last strike. Two outs, bottom of the ninth.

But then, more numbers…

10/2005 - Josh’s first week of sobriety in 5 years.

3 - the number of times a day Josh begins working out.

12/2006 - Josh is picked up by the Chicago Cubs in the Rule 5 draft and the traded to the Reds.

.400 - Josh’s batting average in spring training this year.

4/2/2007 - Josh makes his Major League Debut…about six years later than he had originally expected.

5/6 - Josh hits two homers against the Rockies.

26 - Josh’s age, pretty old for a major league rookie.

26 is also the number of tattoos Josh acquired in the those five drug-filled years, reminders of a life gone all too wrong for a guy with such promise. But, now josh is fulfilling those promises and proving everyone wrong who said he would never make it back.

2 and 6 - the ages of Josh’s daughters, Sierra and Julia.

.279, 14, and 30 - batting average, HR’s , and RBI’s for Josh this year.

And 1 - truly remarkable story of a guy who had it all, lost it all, found God, found his way back to the majors, and found his way back to the top of his game.

And 1 is also the number of new fans he has, after knowing more about his story.

756 may be the number that captures Baseball’s imagination in the second half of the season, but 33 has captured mine. That’s Josh Hamilton’s jersey number.

--Brian Eaves

"The rose goes in the front, big guy... " --Crash Davis