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Friday, February 27, 2009

Betting The 103

ESPN's Peter Gammons saying there's a "very good chance" the rest of the 104 names of players to test positive for PEDs in 2003 will be revealed within the next month.

Now, seriously, Las Vegas... do I have to do all the work for you on this one? Give us an over/under bet on how many members of the 2003 All-Star Game were taking the needle!

National League All-Stars (First the starters, then the pitchers, then the reserves)

Jason Schmidt -- Power pitcher, hurt soon after, played in Balco Land... Call it 3 to 1 against

Javy Lopez -- Fell apart fast, but catchers do that -- 5 to 1 against

Todd Helton -- A lot of injuries recently, power has fallen to hell, screamed a little too loud at earlier allegations... 2 to 1

Jose Vidro -- Never really was good enough to show a performance spike -- 10 to 1

Scott Rolen -- Prototype injury breakdowns and erratic power, friends with McGwire -- 3 to 1

Edgar Renteria -- Still around, durable, some performance spike but not huge -- 8 to 1

Jim Edmonds -- McGwire teammate, injury prone, erratic power -- 4 to 1

Albert Pujols -- Epic power, some injury experience, a Cardinal but no real spikes -- 6 to 1

Gary Sheffield -- Always was a misanthrope, performance spikes with contract years, moved to a lot of teams, many teammates to rat on him if he was juicing -- 6 to 1

Bary Bonds -- Um, duh. That's one.

Armando Benitez -- Closers always spike; 10 to 1

Kevin Brown -- Huge chance, given the money and injury history, along with the bad personality and cheating history -- 3 to 1

Shawn Chacon -- Yes, he really was an All-Star once; 12 to 1

Eric Gagne -- Have to think he's likely given the career path -- 4 to 1

Russ Ortiz -- I'm as surprised as anyone to see him here; was in BalcoLand then -- 7 to 1

Mark Prior -- Prototype, but I suspect Dusty Baker was the real career killer here -- 8 to 1

John Smoltz -- No real spike, still around, would be surprising and disappointing -- 15 to 1

Billy Wagner -- Kind of a hyper-competitive ass and injury-prone, but most closers are like that -- 9 to 1

Mike Williams -- Pretty sure he couldn't afford them, and if he did use, he got bad product -- 15 to 1

Woody Williams -- If he did them, he must not be able to reach home plate without -- 25 to 1

Dontrelle Willis -- Never really a flame thrower, seems too flaky/genuine for cheating, and as a Marlin, was probably skipping meals to pay his bills -- 15 to 1

Randy Wolf -- Just not good enough to be a user -- 12 to 1

Kerry Wood -- See Prior -- 8 to 1

Paul Lo Duca -- No power, but injury prone and a homicidal jerk -- 3 to 1

Richie Sexson -- Was always big, was never good again, but was pretty durable -- 7 to 1

Luis Castillo -- Not enough power for drugs -- 15 to 1

Marcus Giles -- Surprisingly apt career for a juicer -- 5 to 1

Aaron Boone -- Have to think that both Boone Brothers are highly likely cheats -- 3 to 1

Mike Lowell -- Red Sox players are always clean -- 14 to 1

Rafael Furcal -- More interested in DUIs than ROIDs -- 12 to 1

Luis Gonzalez -- Durable with a big power year, might have used and gotten out -- 8 to 1

Geoff Jenkins -- Perfect career arc and injury history for it -- 5 to 1

Andruw Jones -- How else can you explain him? 3 to 1

Rondell White -- I suspect even he forgets he made this team -- 10 to 1

Preston Wilson -- The big year was probably more altitude-related than needle, but still, a huge year and then ill health -- 8 to 1

American League All Stars

Esteban Loiaza -- What, you don't think he was immoral enough for it? 3 to 1

Jorge Posada -- Too long a career and too durable -- 12 to 1

Carlos Delgado -- Similar to Posada at first base; if he did use, it wasn't in 2003 -- 12 to 1

Alfonso Soriano -- One big year and some injury history, but the big years also coincided with salary drives and hitter parks -- 6 to 1

Troy Glaus -- Another prototype juice career, and a McGwire teammate -- 7 to 1

Alex Rodriguez -- Our second locked down juicer

Garret Anderson -- No real power spike to speak of -- 12 to 1

Hideki Matsui -- Acne? Check. Injury prone? Check. On a team with cheaters? Make it three... 8 to 1

Ichiro Suzuki -- Hyper-durable, no real power spikes, I'd be well and truly surprised -- 25 to 1

Edgar Martinez -- Too durable with no spikes, but did have some huge years -- 15 to 1

Lance Carter -- Was he in the league long enough to take some? -- 20 to 1

Roger Clemens -- Number three with a thrown roid rage bat bullet

Brendan Donnelly -- Ex-scab, cheat and general piece of garbage with some big years -- 4 to 1

Keith Foulke -- I'd be surprised, given that he threw a change, but he did play for the Tejada/Giambi A's in BalcoLand -- 12 to 1

Eddie Guardado -- Not really a flamethrower, and highly durable back in that day -- 15 to 1

Roy Halladay -- Lock durable without super speed, a shock if he did -- 20 to 1

Shigetoshi Hasegawa -- Who remembers or cares? Probably him, for one -- 15 to 1

Mike MacDougal -- One of those bad team non-stars, durable but not good -- 15 to 1

Jamie Moyer -- Obviously a juicer, given his lack of durability and raw stuff, and yes, That's Sarcasm; would be higher odds if he hadn't come out so strong against A-Roid, leading to "Methinks he dost protest too much" potential -- 20 to 1

Mark Mulder -- Wasn't a flame-thrower, but huge injury issues and a Balco A -- 9 to 1

C.C. Sabathia -- Only if the roids came in donut form, but maybe the Yankees require it -- 9 to 1

Barry Zito -- Doesn't throw hard or get hurt, but a Balco A -- 12 to 1

Ramon Hernandez -- Balco A, migrant worker, no real huge power spike -- 12 to 1

Jason Varitek -- Durable and faded is not really the roid way -- 12 to 1

Jason Giambi -- Fourth man in!

Mike Sweeney -- Classic roid career, but it's hard to see how any Royal cared enough to cheat -- 12 to 1

Bret Boone -- I'd be surprised if he didn't -- 3 to 1

Hank Blalock -- More of a park effect, but some durability and performance spikes -- 8 to 1

Nomar Garciaparra -- Probably the most likely Red Sox user, given the injury history and intermittent power -- 4 to 1

Melvin Mora -- Too durable with limited spike -- 12 to 1

Magglio Ordonez -- Big production, injury history, fought with his manager, but still didn't seem the type -- 9 to 1

Manny Ramirez -- Despite the Bad Tooth's protests, there are performance spikes here, and he's smart enough to tell someone else to dose him -- 8 to 1

Vernon Wells -- Severe spikes and injury history, but might have been too young to use at this age -- 9 to 1

Carl Everett -- Capable of any thing at any time, with the freaky kind of personality that says Chemically Enhanced -- 6 to 1

Dmitri Young -- I'm amazed that he made the team, and he did have injury issues, but roids don't usually make you fat -- 12 to 1

I'm putting the over/under at 14.5. Give me the over!

Thursday, February 26, 2009

This Is Not How You Execute The Trampoline Dunk

Or *is* it? Let's face it, this guy is going to get a lot more play than the folks who throw down correctly...

And now a word from our sponsor

When I watch the following ad, I'm reminded in a powerful way of the Bobby Hoying Era in Philadelphia. And yet, this time, it's kinda funny!

By Blogfrican Law, I Must Inform You...

1) Tiger Woods played golf today.

2) Celtic Fan is officially worried about the start of the Starbury Era, since he would be the first unlikable player to ever wear the laundry

3) Nate Robinson and Will Ferrell are Verry Verry Specail Fwiends!, and

4) A-Rod got booed, hit a home run, drove away with his shady cousin and then *totally* had sex with Madonna.

After Teh Sex was over, I heard they injected a baby seal with HGH until this happened...

Or maybe that was just me...

Awful Topical Fantasy Baseball Team Names

Because I am a big whore to the search engine traffic. As always, these should fit in the standard Yahoo naming space.

The Other 103

Roiddog Millionaires

Beat You Like Rihanna

Octuplets Plus One

Joe The Owner

Vast Stimulus Package

The New Puppy

Madoff Pyramids

NO! NO! DON'T SHUT...

Republican Response

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

True Value

What recession? Jerome James, now with the Bulls, has played for five minutes of NBA action this year, all in one game on December 19, a 24-point loss to the Bucks.

His take for that work: $6.2 million dollars, or over $1 million a minute, and in all likelihood, about 2 to 3 times the lifetime take-home pay of anyone reading this.

I'm telling you, folks, if only Isiah Thomas had been given more power, we would have all completely avoided this economic problem...

The NFL Cheese Stands Alone

This might be something of an obvious point, but let me make it and find out if my brain is firing in tune with anyone else's...

The NFL is not just the biggest league in the US. It is also the only sports league that is truly national.

Let's deal with the also-rans in turn.

Baseball is, historically, the national pastime. It's the most pleasant game to attend in person. It is the greatest timesuck, what with the every-day assuredness of it all. It taps best into our literature, our surprising need for math, our need to see things in a historical narrative. It is the sport that feels the least like vice, since it's outdoors, not terribly conducive to betting, and does not require outsized men to run the risk of disability and early death. It gives everyone involved time, and lots of it, to think through every possible permutation, and it rewards any level of interest. If you want to go to a game and spend the day eating and drinking without even so much as looking at the field, you'll probably have a good time. More importantly, no one will think you're some kind of traitor to the cause, or give you grief for not screaming your head off in time with everyone else.

But it is not national, because:

1) There are any number of areas where the sport is repped by exhibition-only slave teams (aka the minor leagues), or more compelling (at least on the local level) age-rank teams (Little League, High School and College teams)

2) There are any number of MLB teams that, due to their market size, have no chance to compete for a championship on a consistent basis. They exist as little more than a de facto farm system and sparring partner for the MLB+ clubs.

3) Because of both of the first two factors, and exacerbated by the inherent unfairness of the system, a large portion of the fanbase bails out during the regular season, only to return around this time next year.

There are, of course, individual *teams* with dispora that resembles a national presence. Go to a West Coast game, you'll find people in Yankee and Red Sox barb, and the Cubs are the default choice for any number of people who want to say they root for a team without ever having to worry about actually watching a game, since the Cubbies never play any game of consequence. But all of these fans will, without a second thought, decline to watch the championship round unless their own team is involved. (And on the off chance that I actually need to prove this, just go look at those Rays-Phillies rating from last year again.)

Now, compare this to the NFL. Have you, Dear Reader, missed a Super Bowl in, say, the last decade? For me, that goes back to at least the Eagles 1980 appearance, which is to say, I've watched every Super Bowl since before many of you were alive.

Now, compare that to the World Series. Who misses that? Well, everyone.

I know, I know, the Series is long, played on weeknights, and the small sample of the playoffs makes it seem like the playoffs are just random chance. Especially if you are a Cubs fan, and your team never gets out of the first round. (And yes, I went to the Cubs Suck well twice in this post, just because I'm not thinking too much of the Cardinals' chances this year either, and I'm trying to keep Cards Fan and Cub Hater The Truth from going back to the emo music. It's just so, so sad.)

The NBA has the same issue as MLB. For a while, it didn't, because it had Michael Jordan, and when the very best player to ever lace them up comes along, you pretty much drop everything and watch, just to see what he does next. (Witness golf and Tiger Woods.) But the same rule applies; once my Sixers are eliminated from contention, assuming I didn't have the blog, I'd probably bail. Especially when the recent Finals have been such appetizing matchups as the dull as toast Spurs against the overmatched Cavs, or the mutual assured distaste for Sixer Fan as Celtics-Lakers. The closest NFL corollary for me is Cowboys-Patriots, and I'd still be watching, if only for the hope of paralysis.

Now, the more salient point... can either the NBA or MLB ever change this? Maybe if LeBron James might be able to put the whole thing on his shoulders, a la Michael. MLB might get to an actual revenue sharing plan, or the more egregious MLB+ teams could get taken down a peg or twenty by the shifting sands of the recession economy.

But the wiser way to bet is that present conditions are indicative of future performance... and that the trends of the last 20+ years are not to be ignored. There is King NFL, and there is everything else... and if the others aren't careful, there will be just King NFL.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Lemur Blues

The Wall Street Journal

Renewing sports broad- casting deals with Major League Baseball, NASCAR and other entities is getting more expensive for ESPN. With ad revenue down, that could put the cable network in a bind and have repercussions for parent company Disney.

ESPN spends about $2.2 billion annually for broadcast rights to major sports in U.S., including $300 million for 80 Major League Baseball games, $270 million for the final 17 NASCAR races and $1.1 billion for the National Football League's Monday Night Football.

ESPN's NFL payments nearly doubled during the last round of negotiations, and each of its other major rights fees rose by at least 20%. "You have increasing competition for a finite set of sports properties, and that is going to squeeze margins," says Lee Berke, sports media consultant.

Competition is likely to increase. For example, Comcast's 24-hour sports network Versus, saw its audience grow 22% in 2008, and it tried to acquire the rights to the NFL in 2005. Versus executives have vowed to bid against ESPN for additional rights in the future.

So how will all this play out? Well, the Lemur's not just going to stand still and lose money. I'm thinking that they will have to play hardball with cable providers, in the same kind of winning move that made NFLN such a welcome addition to nearly no cable packages.

When push comes to shove, I suspect all will go along with it, because the Lemur demographic is just too important to lose for advertisers, even in a down economy, and there's too big of a chance that guys who are Lemur-less will tell their cable provider to go pound sand.

So then the cable company will have higher costs... which they'll pass along to everyone. Some subscribers will slide over to the dish, or with increasing frequency, to the Web for a la carte programming.

And eventually, by which I mean within ten years, the broadband pipe will be big enough to put that cable provider in the same place as the music industry. (Which, considering just how many people really, really, really hate their cable provider, can't come fast enough.)

Nuclear Hoop Winter

Bad words in the Association today -- yes, I know, on top of the Marbury news! Suicide Watch better have extra staff tonight! -- from super agent David Falk, also known as The Guy That Repped Jordan.

He thinks that the economy is going to be so bad, and that the salary cap is going to contract so much, that you might be looking at a two-year lockout of the Players Association, just because the business will be so fundamentally broken that the owners would lose less money by going dark.

I work in marketing, and one of the lessons I've learned over the years is this... When a guy who makes his money from commissions says it's all going to hell, believe him. Sales guys whine only a little more than poker players, but that doesn't mean they can't sense when the gravy train is running dry. They don't generally get paid unless they can convince someone on the other side of the table that something good will happen if and when they scratch the check. That's not a job that anyone does with a firm conviction tht they, and their clients, and their entourages, will all be eating shrimp instead of lobster, and having sex with their wives rather than their mistresses, in the very near future.

The 300 remaining casual NHL fans might recognize this strategy, but for the Association that looked like it was going to eclipse MLB for the second spot during the Jordan Glory Days, not to mention having the second-most diversity from the US among all team sports... well, things were supposed to go better than this. (In case you are wondering what the most universal team sport is, it's what the rest of the world calls football. Speaking of which, why don't we just name our game something different, since the foot part of things is so challenged as to called "special"? I recommend Warball, which just sounds more American anyway. Moving on...)

The seeds have already been sown for fading stars like Jason Kidd and Allen Iverson to expect nothing and like it (nothing being defined as a 75% pay cut for the mid-level veterans' exemption) if they choose to lace 'em up next year. This assumes, of course, that there will be anything to lace 'em up for.

Now, I realize that the majority of people reading this will probably just emit a satisfied grunt at the idea of less Association in their lives. I'm thisclose away from finally giving you the all-year football you crave. (Did you know the Eagles signed no one today? Panic!) But you should also realize a couple of things here.

1) If the NBA goes poof, it doesn't make anything better for MLB or NFL. All it does is make the fear spiral grow wider, scare the advertising community more, and create a massive hole in several programming schedules that will be filled with... What? More shows about poker? I fail to see how that makes anyone's life any better, really.

2) The last time the Association went under, Shawn Kemp turned from a Nubian god into a parade float, while fathering scores of children out of wedlock. Do you really want to see what Zach Randolph will do with extra time on his hands? Won't anyone think of the children?

3) A gap in the sports calendar will only mean more time for the World Wide Lemur to invent utter BS. Do you really want to see what happens when the state Mount Rushmores get morphed into a Who's Next segment? I just hit myself in the temples for even thinking of the premise.

Anyway, getting back to the Association... adding to the malaise is the sudden realization among the higher ups that there really are no new lush and verdant attendance fields to run to. Many of the places that have gotten ball in the last few years (Memphis, Charlotte) don't seem to care that much about it, not when everything else is going to hell and the teams aren't terribly good.

Next, take a look at the places that used to have crowds earlier in this decade (Sacramento, New Jersey, Clippers, DC). Suddenly, they all seem at risk. The next tier of Ut Oh includes the people that you wouldn't think would be in trouble, but very well might be. Those include Milwaukee, where the owner is a tapped Senator, Cleveland, whose guy made his nut with (gulp) loans, Dallas with the can't have all gotten out of the Web dollars of the Cube, and Portland's Paul Allen, who lost control of a company the other day for the lack of funds.

Allen also has the worry of shooting pains in his groin every evening from my voodoo doll of him as well. Tonight, I'm thinking he needs to light some firewood.

Add it all up, and you get a league with the very real possibility of a bottom quarter or more at risk. So, before this whole thing turns into the Bad Tooth's threatened NBA book, what are their options, short of a massive and unprecedented devaluation of the temperamental and mostly irreplaceable help?

1) Very unconventional moves.

I'm not talking about the obvious ones of Vegas (the Kings-sized parachute for years, but it's far from foolproof, and recreational gambling has taken a massive hit in this economy as well), San Diego (the Clips think they can find lucre in their historic locale, but the people in that part of the world have never seemed crazed for hoop, and they remember Donald Sterling enough to hate him like everyone else), or all of those three-sport towns (Pittsburgh, Kansas City, St. Louis, Tampa) that have managed to live without hoop this long. Besides, the Stern Way is to get to an emerging market (San Antonio, Portland, Phoenix, and maybe even, sigh, OKC) first and get an edge.

So what's left? Brooklyn kind of counts, and would look better if not for some very dead in the water property and development cost issues. Vegas will suck someone in at some point. And then the real wild card... an overseas division. Because you really want to pick a fight with existing leagues, and create massive travel bills!

2) Contraction.

What the purists want, because they dream of some magical improvement in play as hungry players all kill each other for minutes, and teams can go with full 10-man squads. Maybe it helps, but when you see an NBA game, you don't see a lack of talent, even from the benches. You do see a lot of similar coaching, uneven officiating, and too much turnover for defensive cohesion... but this really isn't going to be solved by offing a half dozen teams.

3) The NBAPA taking it without lube.

Somehow, I think I'm putting my chips on this bet. And that Mr. Falk got a call from a certain Mr. Stern, suggesting that he might want to make such a statement in public and prep the patient...

And Blogfrica Weeps

Where were you when Lennon was shot? The Challenger explosion? 9/11? And now, the new touchstone -- when you heard the news that Stephon Marbury was waived?

Me, I was at my computer, wondering how future generations would see us... for making such a grand hullabaloo over a terrible, terrible basketball player.

Anyway, he belongs to the ages now, along with the tens of millions of Spice Girls and Britney Spears CD buyers, everyone who camped out for "The Phantom Menance", and people who voted for Bush twice.

Good night, sweet prince, and may angels speed you to the Celtics, so that they too do not win a playoff series...

Top 10 ways to spice up your fantasy baseball draft

Hey, one of the best days of my year -- Live Draft Day -- is coming up, and as always, I'm looking to bring it up a notch. Last year's had dry ice smoke, a championship belt, and entrance music for every owner, so the bar is already pretty high... but dammit, that's why I run the best damned league in the world. (Or, well, at least, my world.)

If you're ready to make the day more memorable, feel free to bring in any of these sure-fire strategies.

10) Hire King Kong Bundy. According to his site, he's available as either a wrestler or a comic (and if one believes his MySpace page, he's a Philly guy - shocking!).

Imagine the thrill that your league mates will have when their picks are insulted by a real live pro wrestling superstar, especially one that is likely to hit you with a steel chair if you don't laugh at his jokes. Just make sure you hire a second, emergency back-up wrestler for the run-in if things go badly.

9) Strippers. This one's obvious but easy, and particularly effective as a counter to the guy that always brings porn. It can be pricey, but what's money compared to mamm... err, memories?

8) Spike the food and booze. Go creative here. Laxatives or pot in the brownies, extra liquor in the punch, or good old acid in the salsa. It's why they call it gambling, folks.

7) Go upper tank. My old rock band had a guitarist that used to do this at the end of every long-term session in any recording studio that we worked in. It wasn't one of his more endearing traits. But hey, you want to win, right?

6) Competitive eating. Works best with ribs or some other food where you've got visible remnants of your gluttony. If your opponent has the meat sweats and no feeling in their left side by Hour 2, you've won!

5) Owner Strife. Got co-owners who are reaching that divorce stage? Push them along with a well-timed whisper campaign. Got a league that's antsy about personal conflict? Convince the co-owners to stage a fight -- the more over the top the better, for the fear/hope that it will turn real halfway through -- that will have the shy violets in your league staring at their shoes in embarrassment.

If you can get thrown dishes (preferably not yours), that has to mean your sleeper will slip into the late going.

4) Midgets. If dumb guy television (and, well, my own unfortunate life of being shorter than Muggsy Bogues) has taught me anything, it's that guys will give way too much attention to the little people. Hire one to come by and help with the draft, or just to stand in the corner looking ominous, like they are an extra in a David Lynch movie.

And if they can dance around a miniature Stonehenge, so much the better.

3) Pets. Know a man with a snake, and have no snake phobias of your own? It's time to draft with that bad boy on your shoulders. Can you stand the smell of feral ferrets? Drop on by the pet store and bring a few of your new babies with you. Ready to put on an eyepatch, have some crap everywhere bird on your shoulder, and scream Arr! a lot as the fantasy pirate? Ye hearties, man!

Just remember, you tried to leave your pet home, but that darn wife/ girlfriend/ cellmate wouldn't stand for it. Look, he's so cute! He likes you! Why don't you hold him for an hour or two while I draft?

2) Sideshow. Can you draft while on a rented bucking bronco machine? More importantly, can you possibly avoid making a draft pick while on a rented bucking bronco machine? How about your skills in a never-ending Pop-A-Shot battle, preferably with some neighborhood kid who isn't actually in the draft, and has been paid to egg you on by the commish for the entire draft while the rest of the league drops magnets on your laptop?

It's all fair in love, war, and fantasy nerding.

1) Midget Strippers. The nuclear winter of draft distraction. Use at your moral peril, because once you've gone to the Midget Stripper option, nothing else will compare. (And no, the Shooter Wife isn't available.)

Monday, February 23, 2009

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Top 12 Oh Crap Fantasy Sports Moments

This week, I saw my first place and surging fantasy basketball team take the following hits:

> Manu Ginobili injury. Now, sure, Manu gets hurt by people with sour looks on their faces. But having already waited out the first few months of the year without him, I was really hoping to get four months of health. But no... ankle, not the one that was operated on, out for weeks or more. Did I mention that my team is weakest in three-pointers? Oh, yeah, there's also that.

> Andre Miller, owner of the longest current games played streak in the NBA, goes down in the third quarter at home against Denver. Which caused my actual basketball team to lose, and made me worry that he was going to be out longer than that. He wasn't, thankfully, but still a toll on the old brainpan.

> Jermaine O'Neal gets traded, then Yahoo gives him the dreaded red cross of injury. Turns out to be nothing, and he played well tonight (as the Heat beat the Sixers, grr), but it's Jermaine O'Neal. He makes Yao Ming look like Moses Malone.

> And then the big domino drops... Amare Stoudemire, out for the rest of the regular season with a retina problem. And here's the really fun part -- he's said to have suffered the injury in THE FIRST QUARTER of his game against the Clippers, a game in which he played 35 minutes, shot 15 for 20 from the floor, went 12 of 13 from the line, and scored 42 points with 11 boards. Um, how the hell does he score the second most points of any game this year, with 36 freaking minutes, and the next *DAY* he's got a season-ending retina injury?

As you might be able to tell, I'm bent. I'm also down heavy this week with a second place and falling team. But at least I got a list out of it!

12. Retirement Musing. Hey, professional athletes -- want to know when you should retire? When the team freaking fires you, and no one else wants you around. Not a minute before. We don't care about you Going Out On Top, or Spending More Time With Your Family, or any other cockamamie story you want to pitch us. You play until they tear the uniform off you, and you don't say a word about any other life plan you might have until the retirement press conference.

Oh, and that press conference? Feel free to skip it. Go out with a measure of mystique if you had a real career, or just go away if you didn't. If people still care in a few years, show up at a memorabilia show and cash in, or go write your memoirs. But do not, under penalty of the revocation of your manhood, dither on going away when you make more in a year than 99% of the paying public might make in a decade (or, if you're a star, a lifetime).

Because this back and forth nonsense that causes people to make panic trades and go into off-seasons with way too much uncertainty in their lives? It's Just Wrong, and really unnecessary. Moving on...

11. Big Contract. Aw, isn't that nice? Your player just got paid. Now, he's happy, he's relaxed, and he's about to take his foot off the gas pedal and give back that 10 to 20% boost that made him a winner for you. About the only good thing about this is that dumb owners will still trade for the guy. (Or he's that rare type he doesn't get changed by the money. Good luck with either of those.)

10. Coach Change. This one isn't always brutal, but there's the strong possibility that Things Will Change Now, and probably not for the better. Who cares if the team has dropped 12 out of the last 15? I'm getting numbers here, dammit. Respect my season! It's far more competitive and interesting than yours!

9. Bad Interview. Ready to endure any number of the exact same joke? Then you are ready for the Bad Interview fantasy player moment. Perhaps Allen Iverson is more tired of hearing the "Practice?" routine than his owners, but... probably not.

8. Teammate Move. Nothing better than having a guy whose value is dependent on another player... and then having that other player get moved. This is especially big in sports like basketball or hockey, but it also happens in baseball (oh, joy! My big hitter is going to get a lot of walks!). You also get the fun of knowing that your player was just a tool, and that his old numbers aren't coming back. Even better, so does everyone else.

7. In-Game Injury. If you're like me, I'm sorry. But you don't really get to watch enough live sports, because, well, you've got a family, life, commute, etc. So what you really don't want is to finally be settling down with a game, only to see your guy limping off. This one is especially fun if you've got a guy with a long injury history staggering off like Fred Sanford. (Can you tell I own Kurt Warner in a keeper league? I think you can.)

6. Reality Show. Oh, this always goes well, doesn't it? Just have a camera crew follow your guy around, seeing his wacky adventures and watching him amp up the insanity. This never precedes a bad year / snakebit injury / fast decline. Plus, all of the other guys in your league won't be able to stomach dealing for him.

5. Roid Hell. A month ago, I was mulling over retaining Alex Rodriguez in my keeper league. With Mark Teixiera on board, a better starting pitching staff that should mean less bench time in blowouts, and probable bounce-back years for a bunch of Yankee regulars, he was tempting, even at age 32. It's not like there are a huge number of third basemen that can give you 40 homers and 20 steals.

And then, well, this.

He might still have a big year, but probably not for my team, just to avoid wanting to defend him anymore.

Now, imagine how much fun this would be if I actually had A-Roid for a decent price, or had traded for him in a non-contract keeper league, etc., etc. Day after day of the story that wouldn't die, in the worst month of the year for sports stories to go away, the Chinese water torture of fandom.

It almost makes you feel bad for Yankee Fan. (Well, no.)

4. Blogger Buzz. Kind of like Roid Hell, but with the added fun of hardcore salaciousness and hate for Blogfrica. The Buzz kill is made much worse by the slow forwarding hell of links from your fellow owners, combined with the myriad number of fast Photoshops that connect the dots of whatever awful thing your guy is accused of doing.

And when there's smoke, there's usually fire... and gerbils, and teenaged girls, and a lot of other things that you'd rather not deal with in your draft prep.

3. Trade Value Death. Nothing quite like making the savvy draft pick or free agent pickup, then seeing it all go to hell at the trade deadline.

Consider the plight of the owners of John Salmons, a swingman for the Sacramento Kings. They actually had to pay attention to the Kings this year, which is bad enough, but at least they were getting good numbers for their trouble... and then their guy gets moved to the Chicago Bulls at the deadline, where he gets to split time with a half dozen other swingmen.

Even better is the fact that since they traded for him, you can't really cut him, because if you do... he'll get the same minutes for someone else. All while having no trade value. What fun!

2. Off-Court Injury. See the Stoudemire injury in the open. The only way this could be better is if Amare had caused the retina problem himself, preferably in something that shows up in #4. (How? See Hutchense, Michael. Or the number of retina injuries that happen from bungee jumping. I could go on.)

1. Actual Arrest. This one's rare but wonderful, as you get to feel like you're taking the perp walk with the guy. It's even better if you really love the guy, own the jersey, root for the team, and get more or less scarred for life.

But look at the bright side, Giant Fan who owned Plex Burress: you can probably parlay this into an appearance on your local news, and the yummy tears-licking page views from all of those opposing team fans...

Friday, February 20, 2009

Here Come The Planes

Apropos of nothing, deal with the joy of my random iPod shuffling. This piece gives me 9/11 chills every time I hear it now, and the fact that this was a Top 40 hit when it came out tells you how adventurous those charts used to be, and never will be again...

Hunky Blogrolling: Will Brinson, Starbury, Drunk Severed Leg Guy, Sexy Flanders and Hugo

I know for a fact that Will worked like a dog on these MLB previews for the Fanhouse for you ingrates. The least that you monsters can do is read them, and tell him that he looks cute in that apron. Is that so much to ask? WELL? IS IT?

I'm not prepared to live in a world where Stephon Marbury is kind of likable and doing improv with a blogger. But then again, he's got the money to buy a personality.

Quick Hit with the story of a drunk hockey fan winning a couple of million for a severed leg from a subway running over him. The blogger sees it as a clear case of drunk idiot gets paid, but personally, as a guy who rides the subway, I'm a little happy to hear that the train driver is actually supposed to watch for bodies on the tracks. Because I ride those rails, and sometimes you see neat stuff down there...

Is Ned Flanders the sexiest animated character on television? Some things that are clicked cannot be unclicked.

What Hugo Chavez watches when he's not big on the WBC; the man's big on those Georgia Dawgs. Included here just to make one regular reader's head explode, and to impress my fellow socialists by having a 2 Hugo Week. (Best week ever? Yes.) This also counts as my state-mandated one college football link per year.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

We Will Now Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Wanking

Did you have NBA Trade Deadline Fever? I know I did, having spent most of the last 72 hours in a cocaine-fueled tizzy while digging into the contract details of every player in the Association, then moving them all around in ways that only my fantastic mind could comprehend. After that work was done, I then went on to a lot of NBA blogs and posted my latest research, just to see how much groundswell I could get. How else could you explain rumors like:

> Shaquille O'Neal to the Cavs, because he worked so well for the Suns in their stretch drive last year, and the Cavs are completely convinced that they need to blow up the team, considering how gosh-darn awful they've looked as the best team in the East this year

> Vince Carter to Toronto, just to teach him a valuable lesson about being a piece of crap

> Kirk Hinrich to a team that's convinced that oft-injured and unathletic point guards always age well (surprisingly, Hinrich is still a Bull)

> Stephon Marbury to the Celtics, because the Celtics always get a guy for pennies on the dollar, and the Knicks want nothing more than to put him in the same division and on a playoff team, for all that he's done for them

> Raptors sending Chris Bosh to the Bulls, because you want to move a guy to a franchise that, if they offered their entire team for him, still doesn't have enough

> My left nut for my right one, just to give both a fresh start

What actually happened? Squadouche, as Norm Chad might say, and I'm probably impugning the good name of nothing by associating it with Larry Hughes and Rafer Alston (but probably not Brad Miller). By the end of the afternoon, the Lemur had already pivoted to the Tiger Comeback, having sensed that the biggest annual non-story, behind only Dog Show Coverage and the ESPYs for sheer Public Naked Pud Pulling, had faded.

Why do the Association's fans and writers fall for this every year? Maybe it's just that it's February and we're all out of other things to write about. Maybe it's because the writers are all hopeless nerds who would rather play Fake GM than Real Fan.

Or maybe -- and this is the stunning thing, the unthinkable thing, the dare not speak its name thing -- the Association's front offices are actually, you know, a little bit smart about their jobs.

Trades in the NBA, unless they are absolute theft (see Gasol to the Lakers and Garnett to the Celtics), are rarely a great way to improve your lineup. That's because trades are almost always about the salary cap, rather than the on-court product, and because it takes a long time -- years, really -- for players to truly adapt their games to each other and be successful, especially on the defensive end. Most mid-season trades are just shuffling chairs on the Titanic; by the time you've played 50 games, barring injury, you are what you are. Unlike baseball, a bubble team does not go to the Finals with the right move; unlike football, trades actually exist.

Anyway, now that that's over, it's time to... watch the games? Hell no. Let's write some more about the 2010 free agent class!

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

The Hidden Villain in the Roid Era

Marc Maron is a lefty comedian and political agitator. He's also a fairly perceptive mind, even though I don't agree with him all the time, and has a fairly original take in regards to L'Affaire L'A-Roid.

Maron equates the use of performance enhancing drugs to Viagra -- in that in both uses, you are substituting Extreme Fun for Reality, and it really just comes down to what you want from your experience.

(We're now going to spend the rest of this blog post trying, without success, to avoid the keywords that will fill the post with auto-spam comments.)

In one fell swoop, Maron pulls the shaky morality tentpole out of the three-ring circus of Public Condemnation For Dirty Cheating A-Roid. But let's face it... if there was something that the common person could take that would make them so good at their job that they'd be independently wealthy long before retirement age, you'd be seeing people shooting it into their eyeballs during the morning commute. Especially if that commute was long.

Not to get too far into the puerile, but would the women who are with the guys that can only function with the little blue miracles... be there if they couldn't? Some, sure, especially if the guy has more going for him than a reliable tool; money, looks and kindness can go far in the world. But not all, of course, especially if our theoretical Pharmaceutical Warrior finds himself lacking in the finer graces. For those couples, Extreme Fun compensates, just as it does for people who are paying two to three times for a ticket to a game that they did a generation ago. (Admittedly, not in the same parks. Oh, the siren song that is a new gouge-tastic yard.)

Maron believes (and who am I to question him on such things, having never played the Bob Dole Invitational myself) that what you lose with Extreme Fun is intimacy, honesty and integrity. The first two, sure. The last one, I don't agree, because my definition of integrity might be a little looser than Maron's. Going to our old friend Mr. Dictionary...

(Noun): Adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty.

Nothing there about the character being, well, good.

This is getting pretty far from the toy department, but I think pathological people, more often than not, have integrity. I also think that if you're really good at your job, there's a reasonable chance that you are at least a little bit pathological about it. Michael Jordan might have been the most competitive man on the planet. At age 4, Tiger Woods' father threw firecrackers during his backswing to make him focus. Most stars of sports where youth is served hard (tennis, swimming, gymnastics, boxing, ice skating) and individualistic seem, at best, warped to a "normal" outlook. Every pro poker player you've ever seen on television seems like a spooky math and/or gambling freak. And so on, and so on.

When Alex Rodriguez, Mark McGwire, Barry Bonds and untold hundreds more were using steroids, they weren't all lacking in integrity. Hell, they probably were able to justify it all in the same sacrifice for the team credo that athletes have used to motivate themselves since sports (and, well, war) began. (And whether or not a nation's soldiers should be given carte blanche to juice up is a whole 'nother kettle of inedible ethics fish. Let's stay on what passes for the target.)

Having integrity doesn't make you moral. Taking steroids when any number of opponents were doing so as well... might not even be unethical, because ethics are dependent on the individual.

But what they are, and this is key, is a perversion -- an unplanned, ad hoc, unfairly administered perversion -- away from intimacy and honesty, and into Extreme Fun.

And here's the nasty truth that no one wants to admit in this whole mess. We, the MLB-watching public, were much more interested in buying the lie. And until we take our share of the blame, and admit it, and refuse to buy the fake crap... well, everyone's just going to figure out a better way to cheat.

After all, no one's gotten poor from selling Viagra, right?

Hair Shirt

Last weekend, while I was on my semi-break, blog obsession Allen Iverson trimmed his trademark cornrows, probably out of an effort to show he's all grown up now and deserving of a final NBA contract after his current deal is up. Given how his year has gone, if he gets a job, it will come from a going nowhere team that hires him to sell tickets and score 25 points a game by any means possible, though I suspect he could also go to a playoff team that sees him as the rich man's Earl Boykins for bench scoring.

Anyway, since AI is no longer actually good enough to watch in a game, see his new 'do here. It makes him look ordinary, in my opinion -- something he should never be.

And with this development, it seems as good of a time as any other to try to explain why the man-crush still hasn't fully gone away, even as his skills erode and two consecutive teams have looked good for trading him for a previously maligned point guard.

It all has to do, of course, with AI's MVP year, which seems to fade in the memory of everyone but the hardcore Philly Fan faithful. Thankfully, enough of you read this blog to justify a few more words to try to explain things.

In the 2000 NBA season, I had moved cross-country for work, and lived in the East Bay in Northern California. All of the people that I knew in the area where the folks from work, and the Shooter Wife and I had just had out first kid. It was a little lonely and off-putting. Soon after moving, my first start-up failed, and ninety days later, so had the second. I was able to roll with the punches and get into a third, more stable and better gig. But for a good long while, that gig was a case of high frustration, because it involved a lot of managerial oversight that the other positions didn't have.

I was also pretty much over sports, if you can believe such things. After giving up sportswriting to make more money typing for a living, I spent most of the '90s committing every waking moment to my rock band. Once that dried up, I switched to writing books, parenting and work. Sports was then, as it is now and probably always will be, guy soap opera with a side order of corporate welfare. At the time, that mattered more than the games.

I had stopped watching baseball entirely in the wake of the strike, spent most of the last decade suffering with the worst Sixers teams of my lifetime (and considering how good they'd been for most of that time, that really hurt), and given up entirely on hockey, to the point of being unable to tell you their expansion franchises. Maybe I'd have followed the NBA again with any tolerable Sixers team, but they've been good for a year or more now, and it hasn't really moved me. Only the Eagles kept on, mostly because the NFL is fairly impossible to shake and doesn't require a ton of time commitment.

I didn't even play in a single fantasy sport.

And then Allen Iverson took the franchise on his 160 pound shoulders and had the best season ever for a small guard.

It's hard to overstate how moving AI and the Sixers in 2000-01 were. The team started with a 10-game winning streak powered by the most artistically satisfying ball of the Larry Brown Era. Theo Ratliff earned his monster contract by blocking a ton of shots (3.7 a game) and keeping them in play, and with Eric Snow and Aaron McKie joining AI in the NBA's top 10 in steals, the team always had more possessions than you. McKie had the year of his life providing instant glue work as the sixth man. Snow was a simple defensive hammer with a sneakily reliable mid-range jump shot, and Tyrone Hill gave them some good inside work. Hopes were immediately raised that perhaps this team would do more than lose to some Pacer/Piston-like entourage, the way we always did. Then Ratliff got hurt, and rather than just take a knee and wait for him to get better, the team moved him and Toni Kukoc to Atlanta for Dikembe Mutumbo.

A small word here about Pat Croce. Now, he just seems like a strange little huckster, but at the time, he was a unique figure in Philadelphia sports: an owner that you did not want to set on fire. Sure, his enthusiasm could be cringe-worthy, but his impact was amazing, from getting a new stadium to convincing people to put car flags up in their vehicles, to even affixing flags his own damn self to huge structures like, well, a crazy person.

Here was the first guy in Sixers ownership history that wasn't content to just have the #4 franchise in town, to just assume that the region's strong racist undercurrent and allegiance to college ball would keep his building less than filled. He didn't try to censor Iverson; he embraced him. Repeatedly. He indulged Brown to the point where we actually thought the coach would stay for good. And for a good long upswing, it all worked.

Anyway, back to the court. The team won 56 games in the regular season. And then the playoffs started, and the white knuckle ride of a lifetime began.

A Game 1 home loss to the Always Beat Us 8th seed Pacers made everyone panic, especially since it came with an 18-point lead being pissed away, Disaster was averted in four games, with the last two road games won by just 5 and 3 points. The next round went seven against Toronto, with AI and Vince Carter trading off 50-point games; had Carter hit his 3 at the buzzer in Game 7, the run would have ended right there. Then the Bucks series also went seven, with a speed and spacing team that was death to Mutumbo, and the Sixers somehow won despite only having one of the top four players on the floor.

For that entire month, we were all consumed by the plight of this team. I've never been more emotionally involved with a team. I was riveted on every possession, inconsolable after a loss, giddy after wins, rearranging my vacation schedule to see every minute of every game. Behaving, frankly, in a way that I never did anymore, and haven't done since.

In Game One of the Finals, the Sixers became the only team to defeat the Shaq-Kobe juggernaut that year. It also had the signature play of Iverson's career. I don't need to tell any Sixer fan what that is. Let's just watch it.

AI was 25 years old, at the height of his powers. The rest of his basketball life has been an echo of this single moment -- the crossover, the strike, and the pure disdain he had for his opponent as he stepped over Tyronn Lue as if he were a cockroach. Despite the lack of a championship, it is my favorite Sixer moment ever, and my favorite sports fan moment, too.

The Lakers won the next four games, including three on the Sixers home court. Iverson's Sixers teams were never serious contenders again. By the last couple of his years, even for those of us who always thought his supporting cast was to blame, it was obvious that it was never going to happen for him here. The trade to Denver led to criminal negligence from George Karl and a roster full of people who don't defend. AI in his 30s wasn't going to be able to do enough there, and despite a 50-win season, they were little more than speed bumps for better and more well-coached teams. In Detroit, it's also not happening.

Now, I don't really care to get into the merits of the man. If you think he dogged it on defense, shot too much, didn't hit for a high enough percentage and committed too many turnovers, I'm not going to convince you. Similarly, if you think he's the best little man to ever play in the Association, that opinion is also set in stone. I'm sure that if I weren't a Sixers fan and short, I might feel differently about him.

But what I really want to address is this: what price do you put on the career of a man who rekindled your entire interest in a sport?

If AI doesn't go to the Sixers -- let's say the Grizzlies won the lottery and took him at #1, and the Sixers win up with the mostly forgettable Sharef Abdur-Rahim at #3 -- I can't imagine that I'd be much of an NBA fan right now. I wouldn't have my favorite fantasy league, the years of enjoyment, and now, the league-wide appreciation that makes me feel more amazement at LeBron James than I did for Jordan. (Yes, I know, I'm a blasphemer. So be it.) I also wouldn't have my Iverson jersey, the only basketball jersey I've ever owned, or likely, will.

AI is, for me, the same as Mickey Mantle was to a generation of Yankee fans, what Cal Ripken was for Oriole Fan, what Dan Marino was to Dolphin Fan, what Mario Lemieux was to Penguin Fan. Whether or not he ever won a championship, or his standing in the all-time greats, doesn't much matter. Andre Iguodala could win a championship here. Thaddeus Young could become the greatest small forward on the team since Doc Erving. It still wouldn't have the same impact.

Allen Iverson gave me the game.

The rest is noise.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Now Available: The Best RB in Franchise History

The Jaguars did the sensible but cold-blooded thing today by releasing Fred Taylor, who would have cost five million on their cap to be the clear second choice behind Maurice Jones-Drew in a backfield that clearly didn't need a 33-year-old speed back, no matter how accomplished (and maybe even still competent) he might be.

Considering how badly the Jags struggled last year on chemistry issues it was a little surprising to axe their captain and longtime vet in cold February blood, but not quite... because, well, it's the NFL, the only sports league where being heartless about your veterans is usually a winning PR play, since so many people decide to spend the entire off-season pretending to be general managers.

Rejoicing in the news, of course, are Jones-Drew's fantasy owners, who now get to see what their treasured back does as the lead. The answer, in all likelihood, is get hurt and lose touches in the red zone, because there's a reason why smart teams go to committee and/or limit the touches of their main guy to involve a lot of screens and outside tosses... but why rain on their parade today? Clearly, J-D's on his way to Top 5 RB status. It just won't be on my team. (Oh, and J-D owners? Prepare to hate on Vulture Greg Jones. Big-time.)

As for Taylor, I suspect that he'll catch on with some team, for the simple reason that he's still a plus back, capable of doing more than running with the ball, and probably wants to go out with better than a 3.9 yards per carry mark that he was saddled with this year. Besides, the man wants to pass John Riggins on the all-time yards rushing list, and that's something every American can support.

Besides, for a guy with a 4.6 yards per carry average and 70 career touchdowns who was effective not very long ago (witness his '07 year), he's probably earned an ill-fitting jersey or two.

And if you really want to end it sadly, Fred, the Redskins could use a back-up.

Your World Baseball Classic Scouting Report

Did you know that we were just 17 days before China and Japan tee it up for the World Baseball Classic? More importantly, could anyone on this earth give a good God damn?

Anyway, it's coming like the onset of gout, gray hair and new music that you will hate, so let's focus on why each team can't win, just to see if I can get some foreign nations to provide me with cheap traffic heat.

Australia: Their best known pitcher was last seen pouring gasoline on the D-Rays World Series hopes (Grant Balfour). Their next best known guy is Ryan Rowland-Smith, who used to be Ryan Rowland until he got married. There are no current MLBers in the position players. And all Australians are closet cases, given the criminal genetic past. But other than that, they're golden.

Canada: Somehow, I'm not seeing Rich Harden being healthy enough to make his starts. Jeff Francis as the #2 isn't terrible, but after Jesse Crain, there are no known pitchers in the bullpen.

They also currently have eight catchers on the roster, which I'm presuming is part of some communist government works program (seriously, they have more catchers than infielders).

They've got some outfielders (Jason Bay, Mark Teahen, Aaron Guiel), but they're also employing Matt Stairs, who clearly sold his soul for that NLCS homer. And in the final equation of things, they're Canadians, aka the people who are too nice to ever win anything. It's a wonder we were able to keep them from apologizing the Allies to defeat in WWII.

There's also this: they have Stubby Clapp on the roster. How are we sure this entire team isn't just an elaborate hoax?

China: They've got two Yankees, but neither of them have ever been heard of. The country's single child policy means that all of their players are convinced that they are special little snowflakes, so there won't be any team spirit to speak of.

Since the games won't all happen in China, they will also be struck down by the presence of actual oxygen in the stadiums they play at. And since the world's economy is in free-fall, they'll all be too depressed over the bath they are taking on their Western investments. (See? There *are* bright sides to economic collapse!)

Chinese Taipei: There are 10, count 'em, 10 members of the Brother Elephants on this team. How can that possibly be good for team unity, when 2/5ths of the team are worried about secret Elephant Tusk shakes and getting frozen out by the Brotherhood?

But on the plus side, a china-Chinese Taipei bean-ball war could trigger thermonuclear holocaust. You always knew Bud Selig would be responsible for the End of Days, didn't you?

Cuba: With the thaw in US-Cuban relations following the election of Barack Obama, many observers feel that there will be an eventual normalization in the hostilities between the two countries. Which means, of course, that nothing like that will happen, and the players on the Cuban team will blow it for everyone by emigrating en masse. It's a little hard to execute a 4-6-3 double play when the shortstop is making a run for it over the left field wall, and the first baseman is trying to look gringo in the opposing dugout.

Besides, Elian Gonzalez isn't on the team (yet), so there are no magical players to overwhelm all media coverage and allow the rest of the team to win the tournament on the sly.

Dominican Republic: Ah, here's a favorite. With a roster that's entirely made up of MLB talent, the island that has single-handedly populated MLB with talented Ramirezi should be the front-runners, but there's already chinks in the armor with Albert Pujols bailing out, Pedro Martinez turning 60, and Carlos Marmol becoming useless in advance of his flameout year in the Cub bullpen.

Add in the ticking time bomb that is Francisco Liriano's elbow and the overall lack of experienced relievers, and there's more than enough reason to see a DR D Feat. But if they do win, no one shake hands with Moises Alou!

Italy: No, seriously, Italy has a team (and no, there isn't a single MLB-owned player on it). Considering they haven't been good at baseball since before the color barrier was broken, and that their national history in warfare tells me that if they are behind in the fifth inning, they all switch to the other team...

I could go on. But there's too much traffic to this blog from guys in North Jersey who work in, um, "construction"... so I'll just let this one stay where it is right now, before I wind up hung from my toes. (For those of you counting Mussolini's Death references, this now gets the blog up to six. It's something we're all very proud of.)

Japan: Seven MLBers here, all of them reasonably competent, sprinkled amidst a ton of Ham Fighters, Golden Eagles and Yakult Swallows. This blog tries very hard to not go for the cheap humor of The Gay Joke...

But we're not made of stone, people! (Or wood, for that matter.) The team from the Rising Sun goes down in a fit of adolescent giggling and towel-snaps.

Korea: Jung Bong Is Back! The best name in MLB history rolls his own for the LG Lions these days, which means that in the off-season, he's making your appliances. Between him and the immortal BK Kim (current MLB affiliation: Please, Dear God In Heaven, Not My Team), I'm not seeing their pitching as being quite at the championship level.

(Oh, and for heaven's sake, BK's lost his passport. This man needs his own reality show.)

There is also this: there are 10 Lees on this team, and five of them are outfielders. No chance for them not having a crippling batting out of order problem... every single damn inning.

Mexico: Half of this team is on an MLB roster, but when the best of these players is Jorge Cantu, you're not living in fear of their talent level. Can Oliver Perez fail on an international level under pressure, when he's shown himself to be such a rock for the Mets in pressure situations?

Ah, now I've given you all a reason to watch now, have I? Dammit. I know I should have just stayed with the cockfighting and illegal alien jokes.

Netherlands: Who knew the Netherlands played baseball? I did, but only after getting thrown against a wall by the 6'5" Marlins RHP and de facto pro wrestler Rick VandenHurk. If you want to run against the forces of VandenHurkamania, you're on your own.

(Oh, and seriously? Winning baseball can not be played in wooden shoes. This team can go finger a dyke. Hey-oh!)

Panama: Two current MLB pitchers and no infielders means an awful lot of pitching around Carlos Lee, and being from Panama means that no one has paid them any mind since the elder Bush was in the White House.

And since I have nothing else to say about them, let's close with a gratuitous insult to Colorado closer Manual Corpas. I want my corpses automatic, dammit.

Puerto Rico: What gives? You people are part of the United States, dammit. Giving you your own team is like giving Florida it's own team, only less competitive.

True, there's a load of MLB talent here and multiple Molinas, but there's no way that a team with such questionable sovereignty can win so prestigious a title as this. (Ah, sarcasm. Your key to filling a bloghole.)

South Africa: There's no way to get out of this one with my advertisers intact, is there? Nope. Nor is there a way for a team with no front-line MLB talent, not to mention the very worst nation karma in the field -- seriously, China's looking cuddly next to you folks -- to pull off a win in our lifetimes.

But on the plus side, they get to go home and get a close look at Zimbabwe.

USA: These spoiled SOBs? Forget it. Who on this roster is going to so much as break a sweat for their mother country? Every single player on the roster is on an MLB roster, with guaranteed money ahead of them and a team at home that is just waiting for them to get hurt -- which would be the very fast end to this stupid little timewaste.

So expect a level of effort that would shame a front-line NFL player in a July mini-camp, and a shameful national defeat... that will be forgotten about within a week, because any team can win in a short series, and no one in this country could care about this.

Venezuela: Viva Hugo! Here's your winning team, boyos, behind the startling arms of King Felix, Johan and Big Z, and the Miguel Cabrera / Magglio Ordonez offense. Hey, if it was good enough for a 74 win Tiger team in 2008, it's good enough to be the best in the world in a trumped up tournament that no one cares about...

No one, that is, except for the Venezuelans, who will be, how shall we say, motivated by the rather strong leadership of El Hugo. Who needs to win this the most? Why, the friends and families of the national team's players, of course!

Monday, February 16, 2009

Sunday, February 15, 2009

This Game Is Easy

You'll forgive, Dear Reader, if I'm a little less snarky or hate-filled than usual today. I'm in the afterglow of the best night of my life on the felt.

One of the guys at my monthly game gave me the tip on another house game, this one in a flat-out unbelievable setting. You drive up to a place with a quarter-mile long driveway, into a game room with five full tables, the biggest big-screen TV I've seen outside of a showroom, high-end framed NFL memorabilia and more, more, more. Twenty-seven people signed up for the tournament, and with some of the best play of my life (and cards, and luck), I was able to get to the final table in just my second tournament (outside of my single-table home game).

Just a few hands in, I doubled up against one of the guys I rode in with when I caught trips on my pocket sixes, then boated with aces on the turn; he was unable to get away from his trip aces. Trip deuces gave me another big payday at my second table, and I was able to chip up against a player who read my table presence as strong, even when I had little.

At the final table, I was to the left of the guy who paid me early, and my Q-K was able to break his A-10, and score the knockout, when I caught a queen. The short stacks to my left kept catching cards to make the table last until the antes got huge, leaving the final players all more or less short-stacked. When we got to heads-up, the final opponent and I split the pot for everything but the last $50 (awfully sporting of him, really), and after dodging a half hour of all-ins with several river saves, he took me out. Second place was worth a nice chunk of change, and after a break, I joined the cash game with a nice bankroll.

The cash table that I sat down at was loose and wild, with players putting cash on the table for straight and flush draws like they were betting on high pairs. I joined in the insanity when a minimum blind bit on 10-J spade matched up with Q-K spades on the flop. I hung in long enough to catch a 7-spade on the river, and from there, my table image was made. I didn't take a bad loss in the next two hours of play, was able to take down a fair number of pots without showing a card, and more or less added to my chip pile for the entire duration of play.

The whole night reminded me, oddly, of golf. Play that game long enough, and you'll have a breakthrough round, one where the shots fall, the putts lip in, and the luck is with you. You then make the great comic joke of golf, the one that men have been making for centuries, and the subject header of this little post.

And the next time you've got a club in your hand, it all goes to hell.

So, if you're free next Friday and want some easy money, come on down. I'm due for hours of crap cards, bad plays, and hard-core misery.

Old and In The News

A fairly intriguing trade in the Association this week, as the Heat moved past-his-prime energy player extraordinaire Shawn Marion to the Raptors for perpetually injured under-performing center Jermaine O'Neal. Also involved: Forward Jamario Moon, aka the only Globetrotter to play in the Association in years, and guard Marcus Banks, who is on his fifth team in five years, mostly because he has a hideously overpriced contract and the kind of physical gifts that have led several organizations to think that They Can Mold Him. This is where teams in the Association resemble MLB teams with left-handed pitchers that can throw the ball 90 miles an hour, regardless of the actual results.

Anyway, we're going to ignore Moon and Banks, even though Jamario probably deserves better than that, because I'm Just That Way.

For the Raptors, Shawn Marion gets reunited with GM Bryan Colangelo, who had him during his glory years in the desert. Unfortunately, he's now 30, and a hard 30 given the minutes and way he plays the game, and it's a very open question as to whether he can be anything meaningful without Steve Nash feeding him 5 dunks a game. Fantasy guys love him because he provides good across the board numbers, especially on defense, and in reality, he doesn't demand the ball much, or hurt you in any category.

He's also probably a better fit in Toronto with Chris Bosh and Andrea Bargnani on the front line, and the Raps do try to play up-tempo, so there's a chance that point guard Jose Calderon could bring him back a little. He was available because he didn't sign a long-term deal with the Heat last year, probably because someone told him how valued he was in fantasy basketball, and he took that to heart.

The Raps may be a better team with Marion, but it's hard to see their end of this as being more than the $3 million they got back in the deal (the most you can get in a trade under Association rules), or just trying to make Bosh happier for when he becomes a free agent in the fabled 2010 free agent class.

And oh, by the way? Lots of luck with that one. I get that it's rare for a top guy to leave, but the plain and simple fact is that Toronto should be like Utah; a less-than-ideal destination for African-American stars to play, with the rare exception of a franchise guy. When you have the fun of customs and cold weather, it just seems more likely for you to retain international talent that doesn't want/need to be involved in big commercial off-the-court deals. Of all of the guys in the 2010 class, I still think that Bosh is the most likely to move, unless the Raps catch lightning with this trade and go deep in the playoffs. Anyway, let's move on to the Heat's part of the deal.

Jermaine O'Neal, when healthy and motivated, is one of the top six or so options at center in the Association, especially on the defensive end, where he'll give you a couple of blocks a game without trying to pad his numbers. He's also a reasonable passer out of the block than most of the black holes that play 5, and this year, he's even managed to get his free throw percentage above 80%, which is a historical weakness. The problem, of course, is the health.

O'Neal hasn't ever played over 70 games in a year since 2003-04. Whether that was because he was making a ridiculous amount of money for a Pacers team that was going nowhere fast (his salary for this year is over $21 million, which is more than a little insane, even by Association big man standards), or because he had legit injuries is pretty meaningless; he didn't show up. Like Marion, he's also 30, and also older than that in mileage terms, due to the injuries and his lack of a college career. When he's the best player you have on your team, as the Pacer Experience showed, you aren't going anywhere. It's also suspected that he might miss Calderon, as the best Heat passer is non-point guard Dwayne Wade, with 7 a game.

And now we get to the truly most important player in the trade, in that he's the best player on either the Heat or the Raps -- Wade. What Miami is trying to do here is to recreate the Wade-Shaq duo that led them to their championship by giving D-Wade an inside scorer and defensive stopper. But the trouble is that the rest of the lineup are kids who have no concept or inclination towards defense, with the exception of eternal Boxer-like power forward Udonis Haslem. In crunch time, the Heat are going to go with Wade-Haslem-O'Neal and whoever is having a reasonable game from the platter of Michael Beasley, Daequan Cook, Mario Chalmers and eight other guys (!) that are somehow averaging over 10 minutes a game. It's a far cry from the days when they'd trot out vets like Alonzo Mourning, Antoine Walker (who, for the record, tried when he was in Miami), Eddie Jones and Brian Grant.

If O'Neal and Wade can stay healthy, and maybe help to reign in Beasley (quietly terrible, especially in comparison to OJ Mayo in Memphis, who would have been outstanding here next to Wade), the Heat could surprise in the playoffs. If nothing else, betting against D-Wade in a short series is less than advisable. But in the long run, the biggest trade in the Association this year is unlikely to change the balance of power in the East, either this year or the next... because you just don't do that by moving 30-year-old guys whose best days are behind them.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Come on and give it to me

Consider this your obvious pre-Blogrolling post, and my sad little excuse to share what's on my iPod right now. Email to dmt shooter at gmail dot com for inclusion.

Here's An Idea: Lose Over Half Of Your On-Air "Talent"

In a shocking development, Fox is looking to -- get this -- cut some production costs on sports.

Fox Sports chairman David Hill confirmed during a conference call ahead of this weekend's Daytona 500 festivities that the network has done some trimming behind the scenes. And it's not just in the NASCAR telecasts; Hill said that the past year and a half has been one where Fox Sports has been looking "minutely at every one of our productions," and that includes the NFL and MLB on Fox.

Travel costs have been cut back and deals with vendors -- when it comes to power, catering and mobile production units -- have been renegotiated. Fox Sports has cut by a day the time that it takes to build its compound. And it has partnered with ESPN to save costs, with the networks hiring the same technicians who work Saturday at Daytona for ESPN and then Sunday for Fox Sports. In the past, there would have been two teams of technicians.

See, kids, the worst economy in our lifetime (assuming you aren't in your low 80s) *does* have a bright side!

25 Lies About Sports Blogging

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a post with 25 lies about sports blogging that you’ve made at one time or another. You do not have to specify when, how, or why you made those lies but you may do so if you so desire. At the end, spam 25 sports blogs with your list. You have to spam the person who spammed you. If I spammed you, it's because I want you to tell me 25 lies you’ve made at one time or another.

1. I never get ideas from Bill Simmons

2. Checking my site's visits and page view statistics on a near-hourly basis is beneath me

3. If there were no money in this, I'd still work as hard at it as I do now

4. My homerism is transparent and entertaining

5. I don't have a smoldering resentment for people with more popular blogs than mine who get there via The Titty

6. I don't include family members in posts just to see if they are paying attention

7. I never, ever entertain thoughts of quitting just to see how many "Please Don't Go!" e-mails and comments I'd get, like some fake suicidal angst teen girl

8. Commenters who flame me never make me want to exact a hopelessly juvenile and escalating revenge

9. Being energized by someone making a big ad buy is completely beneath me

10. I don't write just enough content to make sure that the elements on the right hand side match up

11. I pay for every image I use

12. There are no dreams of having this somehow become my full-time job

13. I have no shame about writing viral list content

14. I don't resent the world for always linking to the viral list content, rather than the thoughtful long form pieces

15. I wouldn't gladly take the press box access for fear of selling out my outsider perspective

16. There is no political agenda to the blog

17. If the World Wide Lemur gave me a shot, I wouldn't take it, despite the fact that I think they ruin just about everything they touch, and that I'm sure I'd get edited/neutered to death

18. I'm not secretly thrilled when some prominent athlete does something really regrettable in public

19. I respect other people's opinions when it comes to things like Brett Favre's leadership ability, Stephon Marbury's desire to play for another team, and the mystical importance and overall specialness of MLB+ teams

20. I can enjoy an MLB/NFL/NBA season just fine when my favorite team and fantasy team both suck

21. When it comes to a game between guys on my fantasy team(s) and my real-life team, I always and cheerfully root for my real team

22. I never think about, write or post things to the blog during Day Job hours

23. I never neglect my family to fill the bloghole

24. It's never a grind to get the last few entries in a list

25. I don't care if this post gets linked, generates traffic, or becomes a meme

The No Sports Conspiracy

Here's what counted as news in the Toy Department today.

> A slate of 3 NBA games, one of which ended before midnight in the East.

> 6 games involving teams in the NCAA college basketball top 20. (Notre Dame broke their seven game losing streak against 7th ranked Louisville. I hope you were sitting down for that.)

> 7 games in the NHL. You'll be shocked to learn that Detroit, who have been good since I actually followed and cared about hockey in the late '80s, are still good.

> The Washington Nationals signing the sabermetric wet dream of Adam Dunn, the Mariners getting close to signing the sad remnants of Ken Griffey, and some relentlessly tiresome A-Rod, Selig and Roger Clemens nonsense.

> Day One of the Brett Favre Comeback Watch.

In other words, Almost Nothing You Needed To Care About. This weekend will be even worse, since the NBA will have their All-Star Break.

And all of this nothing... on the day before Valentine's, which is also a Friday the 13th.

My fellow men, can it be any more clear?

Our wives, mistresses and girlfriends have cagily arranged for all of this to create maximum attention and purchases from us. (Hell, you want to lay this on the Obama Administration, I'll allow it. Women vote Democratic more than men, and it's clear that they'll do anything short of legalizing pot to jump-start this flat-lined economy right now. By the way, feel free to do that and use all of the tax revenue to pay for the entire stimulus bill, the financial bailout, and a hefty tax cut. You're welcome.)

I say that we don't stand for it. Personally, I'm going to spend Valentine's Day playing poker, after giving the Shooter Wife the traditional gift of the Jizzy Lizzy, seen above. That's two kinds of chocolate and one kind of taste. What woman could ask for more?

Stay strong, my fellow Tools. And be careful out there. It's a dangerous time for all of us.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Lucy Takes Out The Football Yet Again

Tonight in Philadelphia in their last game before the All-Star Break, your Philadelphia 76ers edged the Memphis Grizzlies (seriously, can't they change their name by now? Not many grizzlies eating BBQ and visiting Graceland) to go to three games over .500. Lest you think that this is less than a noteworthy achievement, please note that it's the highest they have been over the break-even point since, gulp, 2006.

Despite a huge night from Hakim Warrick and a slow start from star Andre Iguodala, the home team finished a 7-game homestand with four straight wins, and are now just a game out of the 5th seed in the East. That's meaningful, seeing how the top three teams will get the Celtics, Cavs and Magic in the first round. They've won 14 of their last 19, and are 18-10 under interim head coach Tony DiLeo.

So what do we have, really? A team that has recovered from a terrible start, that's playing its best ball of the year, with more than a puncher's chance of getting into the top half of the draw in the East, especially if Atlanta slips a bit. Realistically, it's the best chance for the franchise to achieve that modest Final 8 standard since, gulp, 2003. So, let's all be happy, right?

Well, no. The Sixers have the worst personality trait you can ever give to a professional team: they have disappointed. After signing Elton Brand to give them the half-court scoring option that they sorely lacked against the ready to be taken Pistons in last year's playoffs, they were supposed to be on the cusp of 50 wins and some significant sweat from the Celtics. We all dreamed of them as the clear #2 in the Atlantic (well, they are still that, thanks to the Raptors also having issues), and maybe even a little more than that with the application of a few breaks.

Specifically, that would be the breaking of a Kevin Garnett kneecap or two. (Hey, the Celtics do have real miles on the odometer and too many carries from the previous year. The town has seen worse bets.)

Of course, that's not how things worked out. Brand didn't fit in when he was healthy, or he was never really all that healthy. When he tried to return after the injury, nothing looked good, and the team can only hope like Hades that this is just a temporary problem, given the number of years and revenue that he's got on the clock. Trade rumors continue to swirl around Andre Miller, because he's good and not young, and everyone thinks that you should tank in the Association if you're not a title contender, because no one values a just good team.

Well, almost no one.

This isn't something that you can explain to all of the fans of teams that have won titles in the last 25 years, but there is actually some value to a team that's not terrible. It makes the winter months pass a little faster, gives you some small amount of false hope that you can catch lightning in a bottle and take out a better team in a playoff, and in general, makes going to the games less of an obvious waste of time and money.

It was all far more exciting last year, of course, when this all came out of nowhere, Sam Dalembert looked like he was emerging as a top-tier center, and we were in no way disappointed. There's also the simple fact that they play five out of their next six games on the road, so this might all be complete false hopes.

But what the hey. We could be rooting for the Knicks. Or the Clippers. Or the Bulls, Raptors or Wizards...

Top 10 Brett Favre Prop Bets

With today's... no, I'm sorry, I can't write it anymore. Let's just go to the prop bet scoreboard and try to get some of Woody Johnson' money back, shall we?

10) Number of teams rumored to be in negotiations to bring him in after their QB gets hurt during the 2009 regular season: Over/under of 6

9) Odds on another comeback: Even money

8) Over/Under Date of Tell-All Book That Throws Dozens Of Coaches, Teammates and Really Mean Bloggers Under The Bus: Super Bowl Week, 2010

7) Chance of a new drug addiction and celebrity rehab stint: 3 to 1 against

6) Divorce with subsequent big publicity trial and allegations: 4 to 1 against

5) Reality show: 10 to 1 against

4) Odds that Tony Kornheiser will not return to MNF for the upcoming season: 5 to 1 if Favre is active, 20 to 1 is he stays retired

3) Criminal arrest with leaked Internet mug shot: 6 to 1 against

2) Over/under for price of a Favre Jets jersey at your local sports retailer: $9.99

1) Chance of ever winning another playoff game: 100,000 to 1 against (Note: Line not changed by retirement)

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

These networks and their filty, filthy ads

The day job salmonella peanut butter keeps mixing with the melted Kit Kat blog hobby, kids. From an industry PR news letter...

Common Sense Media recently released a study on the content of ads shown during NFL broadcasts. The report, Broadcast Dysfunction: Sex, Violence, Alcohol and the NFL, reviewed nearly 60 games, more than 180 hours of coverage, watched nearly 6,000 commercials and concluded that "it was impossible to watch a single game without coming up against sex, violence, or Viagra."

The researchers reviewed 57 pro football games and

• Evaluated 5778 ads and promos

• Found 519 ads and promos with violence

• Saw 242 violent promos for network programs

• Found 80 ads and promos with sexuality

• Discovered 26 which were sexual promos for network programs

• Viewed 300 ads and promos with alcohol

Now, a few points.

> Only a 4 to 1 split for liquor over sex? Dammit, I feel cheated. Whenever I get to three drinks, sex is happening. With something.

> By the numbers, less than 10% of the ads has violence. See, doesn't that feel better than the gross count? It's even nicer when you realize that 283 of those ads had Liam Neeson's daughter getting Taken. Between her and that contagion green-screen thing from earlier in the season, this was clearly the year where horror was equated to rug burn. As an exercise, the reader is asked to ponder how this reflects on the society as we near the 10-year-mark of the Monica Lewinsky scandal. And now, back to our program.

> Only 26 ads for sex in network program ads? No wonder the networks are failing. And how are they counting these, really? Because I'm pretty sure that you can get an ad with sex, violence and alcohol in it, even if it's just a particularly on-target beer ad, or a local spot in the Phoenix market for a weekend getaway to Kurt Warner's Jebus Jamboree. (Ask for Brenda. She goes farther.)

And now, on to the really awful part, especially after that last bit of casual libel and blasphemy... the god-squadders are right.

As many of you are aware, the Shooter Family is blessed with daughters who, for the most part, leave Dad the hell alone when football is on, because they are well aware that they ruin the luck. (That Cardinals drive in the fourth quarter of the NFC Championship? I'm throwing the eldest under the bus for that one.) But independent of their mystical ability, learned during all of those secret Female Only Meetings, to cause my team to lose in the clutch, there's this... I'm really, really relieved to not have to explain the ads to them.

And it's all, well, silly.

We have the technology to skip ads. We also have the technology to narrowcast them so that my local cable provider can get in the fun with lucrative local spots.

So why, really, should every household see the same ads?

I'm the kind of guy who hated SUVs from the word go. My cars are usually low to the ground and sporty, which means that they are in the perfect position to get blinded by those storm trooper lights. And for years now, SUV and truck manufacturers have been paying ludicrous rates to tell me about their products that I will never, ever buy.

If I had the ability to choose my ads -- and, perhaps, even just pay extra to do without them at all -- I'm taking it. The NFL gets a more effective advertising environment. My kids get to watch the games with their dad. Meathead teens get nothing but crotch shot beer ads. Everybody wins.

Everybody, that is, except for the ad agencies who get a 15% agency cut on the media buy, and the big networks that sell inefficiencies for a hefty markup...

Monday, February 9, 2009

Backstage

(Lead blogger DMtShooter has been interrupted in his daily filling of the bloghole by a notice that an advertiser is less than pleased with their FTT placement. He has been informed of this by a site toady.)

Shooter: Kick your f!@#$%^' ass!

Site contributor Tracer Bullet: Shooter, Shooter...

Shooter (to toady): I want you off this f!@#$%^' blog, you prick!

Bullet: Shooter...

Toady: I'm sorry.

Shooter: No, don't just be sorry, THINK for one f!@#$%^' second! What the f!@# you doing? Are you a professional or not?

Bullet: Shooter, Shooter.

Toady: Yes, I am.

Shooter: Do I f!@#$%^' go to your blog and rip down...

Bullet: Shooter, Shooter, Shooter...

Shooter: No, shut the f!@# up Bullet...

Bullet: Come on.

Shooter: No! NO!

Bullet: We can talk about it. Come on!

Shooter: Don't shut me up!

Bullet: I'm not shutting you up.

Shooter: Am I gonna walk around and rip your f!@#$%%' ads down...

Toady: No, I...

Shooter: In the middle of a recession? Then why the f!@# are you doing this now? Ah, duh-duh, duh, duh, like this in the email. What the f!@# is it with you? What don't you f!@#$%^' understand? You got ANY f!@#$%^' idear...

Today: No, no, no...

Shooter: About "Hey, it's f!@#$%^' idiotic!" having somebody walkin' up behind Bullet n the middle of the f!@#$%^' POST! GIMMEE A F!@#$%^' ANSWER!

(Silence)

Shooter: Seriously man, you and me, we're f!@#$%^' DONE professionally. F!@#$%^' ass.

L.A. Woman

Two teams traded their refuse yesterday in the Association, and it's rare to see a more similar slop swap. It's the Lakers moving starter (but almost never a finisher) Vladamir Radmanovic to the Bobcats for yet another failed Michael Jordan first round pick, Adam Morrison. (Somewhere, Kwame Brown is crying. On a bed of money.)

Now the last time anyone was really paying attention to Morrison, he was bawling like a baby when his Gonzaga team got bounced out of March Madness in 2006. A few months later, Jordan took him with the third overall pick, over actual players like Brandon Roy, Randy Foye and Rajon Rondo. (Wow, did the 2006 draft suck.) In his rookie year, he played nearly 30 minutes a game, shot under 38% from the floor, and might have had the fewest boards ever (3 a game) for a 6'-8" forward getting real minutes. The next year was lost to a knee injury, and this year has seen him solidify his standing as one of the worst players in the Association, with the percentage going down to 36%.

Here's the really amazing thing to me about Morrison; he's a shooter that has shown no evidence of being able to, well, shoot. Good shooters will, even if their shot isn't falling, be able to hit from the line. For his career, he's under 72% from the line. This is a guy who would not be in the league if he wasn't drafted high; any 10-day contract guy with his performance would have been shown the door years ago. At least he'll have good stories to tell about the year he spent with Larry Brown and Phil Jackson.

What did the 'Cats get for him? Two more inches, 30 more pounds, 4 more years and, at least, the hint of competence in his chosen field of shooting, in that The Rad Man has been over 80% from the line in three of the last four years. He's also a 38% three-point shooter for his career, with a board every six minutes (instead of Morrison's board every 10).

Charlotte will be the fourth Rad Stop in eight years, and the first that isn't on the West Coast; I'm not sure how he's going to adjust to being inland in Charlotte, but it wouldn't shock me if he's in the Association longer than Morrison. (By the way, he's also a first-class head case and defensive sieve that Laker Fan, I am certain, will not miss. Ever.)

I think the 'Cats got the better of the deal, but given that both guys make way too much coin for a bench / specialist player, maybe the winning team is the Lakers. Morrison's deal ends this year, while Radmanovic's goes to 2011. Personally, I think Morrison would do well in Europe, just so long as he avoids Paris...

Rumors

Today in Detroit, the Phoenix Suns improved to 28-21 with a convincing win over the Pistons, who might not be what they were in their heyday, but are still an above average team, especially at home. Starring for the visitors were Steve Nash, Shaquille O'Neal and Amare Stoudemire, which is notable, given that the last two of that list have been included in just about every trade rumor in the NBA for the past month.

Now, I don't really know if the Suns are going to move either (or both) big men. They don't appear to be as good as expected, and they certainly aren't as much fun to watch as they used to be. In a playoff series, they are going to have major defensive problems all over the place, just as they have had for the entire length of the Steve Nash Era. But I haven't gone down the path of trying to figure out who they should move and for what, for one very good reason.

It's utterly freaking pointless.

You see, people who deal entirely in trade rumors aren't capable of, you know, actually watching the freaking games. Is it possible that the Suns are just slumming, given that they never were all that intense or committed defensively, and that they are also trying to work in Jason Richardson at the shooting guard?

The simple plain and unvarnished truth about the NBA is that, unless you have a franchise utterly give up a superstar for squat (see the Celtics' heist of Kevin Garnett, or the Lakers theft of Pau Gasol from the Grizzlies), and that superstar more or less fits perfectly, the mid-season move never really works out. That's because basketball isn't baseball; you can't have individual performances plug in their numbers and have it all work out. Guys need to learn how to play together, potentially over years, before they can reach full effectiveness. They also need to work out their relationship with their coach, because with the money that's made in the Association, player motivation from the coach is an incredible factor in the effectiveness of individual teams.

Don't believe me? Consider the Spurs, now ranked second in the Western Conference despite early-season injuries and talent that never seems all that scary, even though they've got the best power forward of all time in Tim Duncan. They rarely, if ever, shake up the deck in a meaningful way in mid-season. They also tend to win the championship every other year, also known as when they are healthy and/or not worn out from the previous year's run.

Consider the East, where there are three clearly superior teams -- the Celtics, Cavs and Magic. The only new player of any serious note with these three teams is the Cavs' Mo Williams. The Celtics more or less stood pat, with the exception of losing James Posey (more important in a playoff series than the regular season). The Magic kept the same core group and just gave them more time together; until they lost Jameer Nelson to injury last week, they look poised to do real damage as well.

So if you're looking for NBA trade rumors, or indeed any kind of trade rumors, it's not going to happen. 90% of them are bull, and of the other 10%, 9% won't have any kind of meaningful and useful impact for this year's results. So why get all out of shape over them? Just watch the freaking game already. Please.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

A-Roid

Word on the Internets this weekend, to save Blogfrica from actually dealing with the NBA or Pro Bowl, is that Alex Rodriguez tested positive for steroids in 2003. At this point, the only authority you can trust on roids is, clearly, Jose Canseco.

As a blogger, you get two flavors of post about this.

1) A-Rod's a fraud! Let me spend the next few hundred words saying how I always knew this!

2) Every good player is on roids, so let's just make them legal now, and part of the strategy of the game, kind of like when a NASCAR guy chooses to change tires or fuel up.

Both tactics bore me, so here's a third tactic...

Who, in 2003, are we absolutely certain *wasn't* taking steroids?

Think it over. The best players in the game were clearly using them, without anyone seeming to care. Barry Bonds ruled baseball with an oversized head. The Oakland A's won the AL West with guys like Jason Giambi and Miguel Tejada. Sammy Sosa led the Cubs, Mark McGwire led the Cardinals, and the Marlins beat the Yankees in a relatively blah 4-2 World Series, after the Marlins-Cubs and Sox-Yanks both went to seven games. It was a great year for baseball, thanks to the overly dramatic playoffs. Sure, people were talking about steroids, but no one was really letting it get in the way of the games.

Alex Rodriguez was in Texas, leading the AL in home runs, spending the last of three seasons of futility in the heat.

Assuming that he was, in fact, guilty of going on the juice... I'm not all that sure that I'm going to feel terribly upset about it.

You see, the first person to cheat is kind of a trail blazer. They gain the biggest edge, take the biggest risk, and earn the biggest ire when they are caught. But with each succeeding cheater, especially when they cheating becomes common and/or outdated, the outrage is muted, and so is the urge to prosecute.

This is a tangent, but does anyone remember Douglas Ginsburg? He was the Supreme Court nominee made by Ronald Reagan in 1987 after the Senate bounced Robert "King Tut" Bork, and he got bounced for admitting that he used marijuana. Now, we've elected a President who has admitted to smoking it; admittedly, the President is chosen by the people, rather than the Senate, but one suspects that a Court nominee with a similar problem wouldn't be automatically rejected now. What's changed? Twenty years of people, well, using marijuana.

It's not quite the same thing, of course, since pot doesn't improve your athletic ability (unless Robert Parish owed his longevity to it, or it made Michael Phelps swim faster) in the same way that steroids do. But the principle is the same.

And the guys that weren't using in 2003 probably weren't, well, among the best players in the game. It just seems to be too much of an advantage.

Now, does this mean that we should ignore the possible cheating? Of course not; standards are standards, and the law is the law no matter how valuable the player or the color of his laundry. But if you are using this to feel morally superior to the Yankees, you might want to take a step back... because the simple fact of the matter is that your team probably has cheats on it as well...

And if it doesn't, maybe that's telling, too.

(Also, that we can just about close the Hall of Fame right now.)

Friday, February 6, 2009

The Pro Bowl Pick (No, Seriously)

For the first time in 30 years, ticket sales at the Pro Bowl are lagging to the point that the game is in danger of being blacked out locally in Honolulu. Considering that Aloha Stadium only holds 50,000 people, and that Hawaii is trying to convince the NFL to continue to hold the game there (plans are afoot to put the game in the bye week before the Super Bowl, and on the mainland, in future years), this is officially regarded by the league as Proof Of That Bad Old Economy, and they've got a point. Mainlanders just aren't visiting the Volcano Vomitorium right now, as part of their whole Never Spend Money Again thing, and the locals just don't seem too willing to separate themselves from $85 to see guys trot around in breathtakingly awful uniforms and mismatched headgear.

But that's not why you're reading this, are you? No, you want to see whether there can be such a thing as a structured and detailed breakdown of the game, to the extent that you'd be comfortable making a wager. Hell, I'm a little curious myself. (And intrigued, and a little flattered by the attention...)

And with that... on to the FREE NFL Picks! (Line provided by BetUs.com)

AFC (+2.5) over NFC and the OVER (which is 64)

The case for the NFC: A lot of continuity. You've got Kurt Warner throwing to Larry Fitzagerald and Anquan Boldin; one suspects that they all know where they are going to go. You also have Adrian Peterson, who is young enough to care about this and bent enough over the fact that QB Tarvaris Jackson made his playoff run hopelessly short. He also wants to wrap up the #1 overall fantasy pick in 2009 from the surprising Michael Turner, who is his back-up in this game. Bet on bitterness. Also, AP is running behind Steve Hutchinson, who will probably take some grief if he phones this in.

Also, there's this. The AFC skill players are comparatively lacking. Peyton Manning might be the king of the Pro Bowl, but he's also not as sharp/good as he used to be, and when he hands the ball off to Thomas Jones, you'll realize that Jones got to Hawaii for the strength of his year, rather than his talent.

Finally, don't underestimate the fact that Andy Reid's the coach of the NFC team. It says something about how few people care about this game that people in Philadelphia aren't riding the Fat Man's need for a paid Hawaii vacation -- this is his *fourth* in the last eight years -- over his need to, you know, win a freaking Super Bowl. Not that we're bitter.

The case for the AFC: Even though Brett Favre won't play, it could still be the last time that an NFL telecast could spend the entire telecast talking about him. This also ensures that the refs will be in the tank for him and his teammates; I think if Bretty just starts sobbing on the sidelines, they'll change the score to see if he brightens up.

There are two players to watch on the lines in this game -- Carolina's Julius Peppers and Tennessee's Albert Haynesworth. Peppers is good, but Haynesworth is an unstoppable defense machine, and this is his last chance to show every team in the NFL why they should break the bank for him. I'm thinking he's going to make some plays.

Finally, there's this -- you can't blitz in a Pro Bowl. (Hell, you can barely tackle. There's a reason why the only memorable play in the entire history of the thing is below.)

So it helps to have the best secondary... and the AFC has Ed Reed, Troy Polamalu, Nnamdi Asomugha and Cortland Finnegan, while the NFC makes do with Charels Woodson, Antoine Winfield, Nick Collins and Adrian Wilson. Advantage, strong, to the AFC. If nothing else, they're more likely to get a pick.

Oh, and if you think it's crazy to wager on the Pro Bowl... um, you do realize that the Cardinals nearly won the Super Bowl, right? Sanity and gambling were not on speaking terms this year, folks.

And in the final analysis... As much as I'm tempted in Jebus throwing Warner a give back, the AFC is more likely to avoid INTs and get their own. I'm seeing Ed Reed in the highlights.

AFC 38, NFC 31

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Ownership

Time to open up the crack pipe of connecting things that aren't sports to sports, folks. Buckle up.

Today in politics, President Obama proposed a salary cap on the financial industry. Their executives will have to make due on a half million dollars a year, so long as they are on the dole. (I'm not going to get into the merits or demerits of the move, so please save the frothing hatred of Wall Street Fat Cats and the Obama's A Commie comments... though I am highly amused by the idea that by capping their salaries, these firms might lose the oh so valuable talent that led us into this abyss, or that the Toxic Talent will be able to just walk to some other Safe Company, like those still exist, and make their old bank. Anyway, moving on.)

What interests me is the fact that sports teams -- and more than a few of them -- also take government dollars, usually at the local level for their stadium welfare construction projects, but also sometimes through luxury boxes and other goodies.

So, well, a precedent is set.

I've joked about this before, but if the Mets are taking Citi Dollars, and those Citi Dollars are coming from taxpayers, then the taxpayers deserve a say in how the Mets are run. I'm thinking they won't go to the $25 million a year price for Manny Ramirez.

Now that you've gotten your head in the realm of athlete salaries being capped by an outside force, and public sponsorship of what are supposed to be private, for profit enterprises... let's talk about organ donations and harvesting. (Yes, I know, we're a long way from dick jokes and titty here. There's a reason why this blog isn't popular, kids.)

Every year in this country and others, people who could have decades more to their lives die while waiting for a kidney, heart, or other relatively small piece to the human puzzle. Those lives wouldn't be lost in a society where donation is presumed, rather than chosen. Also, many of these people are highly educated, drawing high salaries, and providing a lot of value (read: tax income) to the shared burden that are nation states.

Which, of course, leads you to the rather unfortunate specter of individual people -- which is to say, um, you and me -- being viewed as a resource late in life, rather than the 100% focus of continuing care. (Or not so late in life when we go to The Nazi Place, which is where all long-winded blog posts eventually go.) Which, absent any complete body religious needs, is the great fear of being selfless at the close; the idea that, dammit, I should be able to own *something* in this world. My skin.

(For the record, I'm an organ donor. Moving on.)

Let's pull this back around to sports. What is an athlete who plays hurt when they don't want to, really, but a man or woman who is not in full ownership of their body? And, since you and I have a small stake in who wears the laundry, given that our tickets and gear purchases make up a portion of their salary... is there something, well, less than emancipated about all of that?

I realize this is all disjointed and not nearly Sport Enough, but here's the takeaway: we all like to think that we all have Some Control, and for the most part, we do. But in the greater scope of things, assuming you draw a paycheck for something other than fun (or have dependents, or pay taxes, or have friends rather than minions), that control is far from absolute.

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to be on a train and a subway, no matter how cold it is, or how little sleep I get from staying up late on this little foray into the void. The amount that I make from that is more or less capped by the market and this economy, regardless of performance; even if I have an absolute genius day/week/month/year, my salary is going to look a lot like what it does now. And the same goes, of course, for athletes, with the only difference is that there's a lot more air in that balloon, and a very big grain of salt as to whether the enterprise fails if you bring in someone else at replacement level.

So, in summation... our next stop in the economic spiral is a salary rollback for top paid players from teams (and maybe even leagues) failing. Hard to see people not cutting back on ticket purchases in a bad economy, folks. (Note: Super Bowl tickets went down from $800 to $500 this time around, though some of that probably was just that only one team had fans that would travel.)

And a hard cap on how much any one player can make. Just like in the real world beyond sports.

Your accusations of socialism are welcome in the comments...

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

I Will Then Set Myself On Fire

BEHOLD, Dear Readers and my fellow Blogfricans, the long-lost music video from my '90s rock and roll band. (No, really.)

I know you have questions.

1) Is that really you?

Yes.

2) No, seriously?

Yup. Nearly 15 years ago, but yes, yes, yes.

3) WTF?

Agreed.

4) No, seriously, dude, WTF?

You really want to know what the song is about?

5) Um...

When I was a musician (yes, that's me singing), I held a McJob at Penn. One day, I had to copy old law books, and one of the books was about the history of animal law. Animal law is what happened in Europe in the time before television when a pig that ate garbage munched an infant, or you were plagued by locusts, etc. People would actually dress the animals up and put them on trial.

6) Uh...

Yes, and also had trials when they caught someone buggering a beast. That's why the dancer has a tail. (0:45.)

7) Dude, WTF?

The song is from the point of view of an offending farmer. He takes the Marion Berry route of claiming the she-ass set him up. The town sees it differently, because, hey, that's one nice donkey. The whole song is based on a true story. Hence, the France graphic (0:18).

8) Were you high?

Later, but not during. We flew in a dancer who worked with Prince; I met her at a music conference. The whole thing was shot in a day. It even got some UHF airplay back in the day. We figured, hey, chick with a tail and FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!, it was bound to make us famous. Or something.

9) OK, OK, I'm actually watching it. What a train wreck. How did you do that whole burning at the stake thing at the end of it?

I had myself burned at the stake.

10) Seriously?

Seriously. Second degree burns, melted the hair off me in some places. One of the townspeople -- and all of these folks were friends, fans and fellow musicians in the Philly music scene, it was like a Ren Faire party -- really got into her motivation and spit in my face. It was a cooling moment, and the highlight of the day, really.

11) Um... dude. Why are you putting this up in public?

For your amusement, clearly. Go ahead and laugh. I was young and stupid. Now, I'm old and stupid.

12) And if I like the music, and want to know if you could get the band back together...

Ah, shaddup.

Top 10 benefits of the recession on sports

In my day job, I work in advertising, which means that right now, I'm about as happy as a pig in boiling oil. In January, consumers in the U.S. cut their spending for the sixth straight month, and that streak shows no sign of ending anytime soon. That's the longest period in 35 years. Even with a few extra bucks in our pockets from lower gas and oil prices, very few people are spending money with any kind of serious intent right now, and personal savings have gone through the roof. It all makes a fellow who, well, encourages people to buy things a mite antsy, though I'm still pretty convinced I can separate fools from their money. (Hey, you're reading this, right?)

However, every cloud has a silver cliche, and the true one is that art improves in bad times. Similarly, there are nice moments to be had for our little backwater of sports. And here they are!

10) Network shadenfraude. Do you yearn for a return to simpler days, when every game didn't have it's own theme song and enough talking heads to fill a particularly slow fraternity? Hard times just might save you, and by you, I really mean me.

Hey, networks -- how much are you paying those fifth through tenth irreplaceable talents on the pre-game show? Because I guarantee you that there isn't a single human being alive who decides whether or not to watch your show or not, based on that extra body. Besides, cutting the headcount down is the only way we are going to get Bill Cowher back on a sideline, and help speed Tiki Barber on his way to that homeless shelter that we all now is right around the corner.

9) Cheaper seats. As a one-time paying spectator for your Philadelphia 76ers, I have a word of advice for anyone thinking of paying full price for their seat: you, sir, are getting boned without lube, and not just by your .500 team. I get near constant last-minute deals to beg me to come fill the seats for up to 60 percent off face value. So in all likelihood, the people to the left and right of you paid less - a lot less. Ready to re-up your season tickets? Yeah, I didn't think so. Which means that the team is going to have to start pricing these things realistically. A man can dream.

8) Off season jobs for players. And I don't mean appearing in awkward ads for the local car dealership, assuming you still have one. Those lower ticket prices are going to eventually mean lower salaries, and alimony and paternity bills just don't go away. I'm hoping for stuff that allows them to get their cardio in. May I suggest grave digging? It's a good look, especially for a defensive player...

7) Clique Factor. In the mid '90s, I lived for a time without cable. So I spun the antennae in my Philadelphia hovel until I found something - anything - to take my mind off my surroundings. On a low powered UHF channel, I found old school ECW.

ECW was a super low budget wrestling federation comprised of lunatic stuntmen and women who would do anything for crowd reactions, including beat each other with whatever the crowd handed to them. The mic work was similarly freaky. Here's a clip.

It's hard to imagine for anyone who watches the neutered version that the WWE puts out now, but believe me when I tell you that this was frequently great. It was also, as far as I could tell, damn near a state secret. And that made it so much more fun to watch and root for. It was like, by watching it, you had ownership.

Now, think about your relationship with your favorite MLB, NBA or NFL team. Doesn't quite feel like that, does it? It's a business, you know it, and part of you has to hate and ignore that on a daily basis to get your enjoyment out of it. It also means that, on some level, you envy people who like college sports or English Premier League soccer, since they've got a little exclusivity thing going on there.

Besides, let's face it... there's frequently a Groucho moment about being a fan of a certain team. I was happier being an Eagles fan on the West Coast, where I didn't have to endure so many, well, Eagles fans. The ones that blame Donovan McNabb for everything start at tiresome and only get worse.

6) We'll all get tougher. Think about your grandparents, or anyone else that you may have ever met that lived through the Depression or World War II. Do you think they would ever go hard for Terrell Owens? Um, no. They'd hate Terrible for every single day of his life, even on the days when he was helping their favorite laundry win, because his value system is just so repellent to people who lived through an era of shared sacrifice.

There are a million little TO's out there, mostly playing wideout. Can you handle an NFL without them? Yeah, me too.

5) Owner shadenfraude. How much would you pay for various sports owners to hit the skids? I'm talking full bore, sell your fillings while appearing on Cash 4 Gold ads, make Leonard Tose look like a winner, 100% nitro-burning funny car flameout. Imagine Mark Cuban broke. Or Daniel Snyder. Or Donald Sterling. Or Jerry Jones. I think I just got wood.

4) Stadium improvement. This one is already starting, with Citibank finally making waves about getting out of their ridiculous deal with the Mets, but I'm looking for this to go further. Let's go back to naming stadiums after entities that don't, well, go out of business three years after getting the rights. Or, better yet, we all just stop agreeing to call them whatever the corporation that bought the rights wants us to. After all, did they pay you?

3) Luxury box removal. A year and a half ago, I took the Shooter Mom (who is, in all likelihood, a bigger football fan than you) to Lambeau for the Eagles-Packers game, because it was her birthday and because every NFL fan should go there at least once. What makes the place special, among the history, is the plain and simple fact that the best seats in the house are for people on bleachers who actually are blue collar enough to make noise when their team needs it. Luxury boxes are at the top of the place, where they belong, for people who don't care enough about the game to freeze their ass off.

If corporate spending falls off and luxury boxes go unsold, I'm dreaming that these abominations will actually be removed, because teams will have no better option than to, well, try to get a real home field advantage again. And I know, I'm dreaming, but how corporations can get away with buying these things in a crap economy is also dreaming. A bad dream.

2) Small market boom. If the money drains out of the games, eventually it will bleed faster out of the big markets, just because there's more air in their balloon. Maybe we get to a point where baseball teams don't have nearly $200 million of difference between payrolls. If it's $100 million, that's got to be better, doesn't it? And if that means that some teams go away or move, so be it. A century of watching the Yankees outspend people is enough.

1) A friendlier international profile. Imagine you are a baseball fan in Japan, or a basketball fan in Europe or China. How happy are you, really, to see your best players leave you high and dry for the NBA and MLB? Sure, the first few guys that went over had to be encouraging, because they showed that your best could compete at the highest level, but at this point, you are probably feeling the same about the MLB+ teams as the other poorer teams.

Maybe this is a small thing, but after many years of going our own way as a nation, I kind of like the idea of other countries feeling less bent at us. And if that means rich teams don't have a de facto second farm system, I'm OK with that. Assuming you aren't a fan of an MLB+ team, I suspect you are too.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

One second to douchebaggery

As a thought exercise, I flipped on sports radio yesterday about 2:20 p.m. to see how long it would take before the seething cauldron of rage that is Philadelphia Fan would raise his ugly head. I knew the meatheads would use the most exciting ending to a Super Bowl that didn't involve Joe Montana as an excuse to bash the home squad and especially the much-put upon Donovan McNabb, but I wanted to see just how long it would take for the stupid to burn through my car speakers.

I first went to 610WIP, repository of all things mouth-breathing and anti-McNabb, but the show had gone to commercial. Then I flipped to ESPN950 and after listening for literally one second I heard the knuckle-dragging host complain that McNabb would never be able to lead a last-second drive like Roethlisberger and blah, blah, blah, yackity-schmackity. I'm sure the resident blather-monkey had poorly-thought out and generally stupid reasons for his "argument," but I had to flip on the CD player (I'm diggin' on Duffy these days) or slam into a telephone pole and kill myself. Anything to make it stop.

The local fishwrappers took their turns on the hate parade today, showing either remarkable restraint or a surprising lack of foresight in that they didn't have their anti-McNabb columns ready to run Monday no matter who won the game.

Look, I recognize that the man has his limitations, but goddamn, can't the sports media in this city write or talk about anything without ragging on #5? Is it simply impossible to enjoy a truly phenomenal football game without performing incredible mental gymnastics just to take a dump on the greatest QB in team history?

Bwah-ha-ha! Of course not. They call it "Negadelphia" for a reason.

Monday, February 2, 2009

They are not who we thought they were

A few percolated thoughts in the Super Aftermath, since it's the only football we can talk about for the next six months, and that game really had more to it than a day of discussion...

> Despite the loss, I respect the Cardinals a lot more today than I did before the game began. Against both Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, they recovered from periods of strong offensive futility, against fresh, talented and well-coached defenses, to put together long drives that they absolutely needed. Once in the clutch against Philly could be a fluke, and twice in the second quarter against Pittsburgh could have been a coincidence. Coming back again with little working for them in the fourth quarter is a definite trend. Many teams would have assumed the fetal position in all of these moments; instead, they came back and played better.

> Despite the abysmal next-year record of the Super Loser, there's no reason to think that, absent a Warner retirement or injury (admittedly, both shaky big bets), they can't get back here again next year. There division will be a little harder, but it's still going to be a cakewalk, and every other team that you can expect to be there has a much harder road to the finals. I could easily see the Cards taking the position of the Rams, in that they'll run out to an easy division lead and have to be dealt with in the Final 8.

> They have a simply great home field edge now with the Pink Taco, especially when it's domed. Cardinal Fan will exist now, and since they are young and mostly unblemished, they'll cheer like a college town. This is going to be a very bad place to play.

> If Larry Fitzgerald reworks his contract to let Anquan Boldin stick around, they will remain dominant at the WR position, with a QB that knows how to lead a WR and routinely throws for 4,000 yards a year when he stays upright.

> They'll also be better at tight end, since they'll get healthy and/or figure out the Steve Spach / Ben Patrick / Leonard Pope thing.

> The defense has some real playmakers. They overcame a lot of dumb penalties to get some key stops, scored a safety, and got some turnovers and QB pressure. They stuffed the Steelers running game and made Pittsburgh sweat bullets to move the ball. They are basically a good cover corner away from being dangerous, and maybe that corner is just Dominique Rodgers-Cromartie with a year of experience, though I'd still like some better nickel backs, and a better safety opposite Adrian Wilson.

If you are making a list of teams to win the NFC next year, I think they have to be near the top of the list. And before this playoff season started, I was thinking they were lower than .500, and probably looking up at Seattle or San Francisco.

As for Pittsburgh...

> They had a (much) harder schedule in the regular season than the post. Their post-season consisted of a Charger team without a bye, a Ravens team that had its last week off in Week 2, and the Cards. Run that against the NFC East and the rest of the hardest schedule in the NFL this year; it's no contest.

> They still need help on the offensive line, and probably have to reload at wideout, because you can't expect Hines Ward to be healthy. Limas Sweed and Nate Washington are good, but they aren't anything like Ward.

> As for Santonio Holmes, um, wow. I thought he was a breakout candidate this year, and he more or less killed his fantasy owners, mostly because Ben spent most of the first half of the season running for his life. But with Ward fading, he stepped it up in a performance that kicked Lynn Swann to the curb. He was open, literally, all day.

> They'll face more opposition from the state of Ohio next year, and Joe Flacco will be a year older, and, presumably, better. (Admittedly, Baltimore might take a step back without Ray Lewis... but they also might take a step forward. Ray's a leader and all, but he's also pretty damned spent.)

> Assuming Ben stays upright, they've got more than a chance, and the fact that the guy has two rings in his first four years in the league tells you all you need to know about his ceiling.

For a league that seemed utterly random for most of the year, I think 2009 will be a little more sane. But I also think it's damn near impossible to repeat in this random crapshoot of a league.

Which means... Detroit's going to win it all next year. Get your bets in now!

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Payoff

My NFL fandom is conflicted.

Part of this is because my team has never won in my lifetime, but I like to think that it's more about the fact that there's something just a little bit disconcerting by being attracted to this much violence. Baseball and basketball rarely, if ever, have the same moments of red meat, and there's something wrong with a sport where guys are crippled in their '40s. It also, of course, doesn't help that the overwhelming majority of NFL commentary is breathtakingly stupid, and that way too many NFL fans are people you wouldn't want in your home.

And then there's a game like tonight's... where the Steelers nearly gave up the biggest comeback in NFL history, only to come back with a game-winning drive of their own, and a catch for the ages from game MVP Santonio Holmes.

What started out as an old-school stomp, with the game only close because of the Steelers settling for two chip-shot field goals... well, hold on for a second. If you're a Red fan, you're seeing a 14 point swing on the ultimate disaster TAInt by James Harrison on Kurt Warner in the final play of the first half, with the added torture of how close Harrison was to going down or out of bounds to limit the damage to just the assumed score.

Both teams had huge beef with the refs, too. A borderline holding call cost the Steelers a safety late. Red had triple figures in flags, with holding penalties on offense stopping them more than the Steeler defense. Both teams also had huge goats, with Dominique Rodgers-Cromartie getting owned by Holmes all night, and the Steeler secondary, especially Ike Taylor and Troy Polamalu, playing poorly late.

Congratulations go to the Steelers, of course, and I suspect that Cardinals Fan really isn't that bent out of shape, given the scope of the comeback (and the fact that they covered). In an era of fantastic Super Bowls, it might have been the best, at least in terms of a finish.

And, really, congratulations go out to anyone who watches football, because you won tonight. Big.

The Super Bowl Live Blog

<a href="http://www.coveritlive.com/mobile.php?option=com_mobile&task=viewaltcast&altcast_code=db878d62c7" >Super Bowl Live Blog</a>

Come on in and join the, um, fun. Yes, that's it, fun.

Super Live Blog

For all of you who care (ha!), I'll be doing the live blog thing for tonight's game and adwank. See you there then, or more likely, not.

Top 10 absolutely true facts about this year's Super Bowl

Are you well and truly prepared for the Super Bowl? Not until you know these following facts.

10) Before he was born again, Kurt Warner was born

9) Larry Fitzgerald's mother is a sex advice columnist, and his sister is a crack whore

8) When Troy Polamalu wakes up in the morning, his hair is straight and neatly combed

7) Fast Willie Parker got his nickname from his first through fifth girlfriends

6) When he was in Indianapolis, Edge James dreamed of losing in the Super Bowl

5) Off the field, Neil Rackers is constantly lobbying to be more involved in the offense, like he was under Dennis Green

4) Limas Sweed's teammates have been making security blanket jokes for six months now

3) Ever since Najeh Davenport was let go, the job hasn't been as exciting for the Steeler equipment managers

2) In many places, you can bet on crazy things like which team will win the game, and by how much

1) If the Steelers win, it will mean that Charlie Batch has two more Super Bowl rings than Dan Marino, Donovan McNabb, Jim Kelly, Fran Tarkenton, Steve McNair and Kenny Anderson combined

Friday, February 27, 2009

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Monday, February 23, 2009

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Friday, February 20, 2009

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Monday, February 16, 2009

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Friday, February 13, 2009

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Monday, February 9, 2009

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Friday, February 6, 2009

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Monday, February 2, 2009

Sunday, February 1, 2009

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