One small question for college baskeetball

Just why again did you choose to put the Final Four in Detroit? Shouldn't this event be in, you know, a place that people might actually want to go to?

Metal Theft

Here's a good sign that everything is going to Hell In A Handbasket in my old home town... a rash of grill thefts to sell for scrap metal. This, on top of a rash of manhole thefts to sell for scrap metal.

Tailgaters are advised to to invest in a good bike lock and chain, because nothing stops theft like a chain. Either that, or you can switch to those plastic and cardboard grills that I've read so little about. (H/t, Eschaton)

C is for Cubs... and Class

This summer, I've been taking the Shooter Eldest to a handful of different stadiums. First it was Yankee, then Shea, and then Camden Yards, just to give her a sense of how things were in other places, and to give the wife a break. (Like all 8-year-olds, she is a great and tireless being.) Because I try to keep her from any potentially ugly crowd scene, this involves a lot of planning, buying tickets in alcohol-free sections when possible, avoiding strong rivalry games, and the like.

Sometimes, I think I overdo the protectiveness, but I'm not a big guy, and they are only small once, you know? It's not as if we need to go to games so badly as to risk something stupid, on top of the expense.

And then something like this comes over the wires, and you wonder if, perhaps, exposing your kids to sports isn't just out and out child abuse.

McHenry County authorities say three Chicago Cubs fans face felony battery charges after allegedly beating a Chicago White Sox fan so badly he lost his right eye. The men are accused of beating 32-year-old Robert Steele of Gurnee during a 2-year-old girl's Sesame Street-themed birthday party. Police said Monday the men were drinking alcohol at the July 19th party and taunting Steele.

(H/t, Chicago Tribune, via Deadspin.)

Normally, I'd react with the usual snarkiness to such things, and the Deadspin commenters did their usual fine work, with profane Sesame Street songs, William Ligue references and the like. But I'm more interested, for the moment, with wondering what this all means, when three men in their '30s feel that sudden and horrific violence is what's called for in the case of finding an Enemy Fan.

Does the quick dissemination of news, especially novel and stupid and bad news like this story, just mean that we hear about all of the dumb as dirt violent morons that we might not have heard about before? Or is it that stories like this help to encourage the sub-humans out there towards greater creativity in their violence... or that the Web helps these geniuses to be exposed to each other, and therefore, to hate each other more?

I'm not sure on any of it. What I am sure of is that grown men decided to throw down at a 2-year-old's birthday party, and used sports as their pathetic excuse for it.

There's a phenomenon where, when idiots enjoy something, it ruins it for you. I play Grand Theft Auto and like it a lot; I'd rather watch Fox News then play it online with a nation of fast-twitchers. It's just not something that I'm thinking I need company for, and I'm sure that if I got into a lot of conversations with other players about it, I'd like it less.

The same goes, one suspects, for sports with people who identify with it so much as to be moved towards violence... and not even violence against a referee or player, which while totally unjustifiable, at least has a glimmer of reason in the madness. No, they are ready to maim someone who, at most, irritated them with his allegiance and/or trash talk. In front of kids. Little kids.

And some part of me would be OK with their team ceasing to exist now, just because it seems like it would be the only thing that would get through their little reptilian brains, that maybe committing unjustifiable acts of violence (and no, I'm not much caring if there was liquor involved; the liquor got in the mouth without coercion, one suspects) isn't just something that gets you arrested and sued, but with any kind of civic responsibility, shunned from all human contact for, oh, most of the rest of your life.

Now, back to the puppets.

Can this really happen?

If you had told me the Sixers were going to steal Game 1 in Detroit, I could have given you a half-dozen ways how it would have happened.

None of them would have involved huge performances from Reggie Evans and Willie Green.

A big night from the Andres? Sure. Iggy had 16 points, 9 boards and 8 assists. Miller went for 20, 3 and 6. That gave them 9 more points, 5 more boards and 6 more assists than Hamilton and Billups. (To be fair, in 17 more minutes.)

Sam Dalembert coming up huge? Well, only sporadically. Dalembert had 10 boards and 4 blocks, but he was also 2 of 10 from the floor, and limited to 33 minutes from foul trouble.

Louie Williams doing a light 'em up job? Not so much. 9 points on 4 of 12 in 22 minutes. No, he's not shy.

Maybe a huge playoff debut for hot stuff rookie Thaddeus Young? Nope, though 10 in 22 minutes for a guy with zero playoff experience isn't bad.

Uncharacteristic proficiency from behind the arc or the free throw line? Nope. They were 1 of 5 from the former, and 19 of 27 (70.4%) from the later.

OK, well... maybe Detroit just couldn't keep their hands on the ball, and the Sixers were able to get out and run. Nope, turnovers were even at 12.

So, um... how the hell did they do it, and can they do it 3 more times in the next 6 games?

Any reasonable judge of the NBA says no; there is a reason why Detroit is a dark horse champion pick, and they've got an ungodly amount of playoff experience without being too dreadfully old. We are talking about a 2 seed playing a below .500 team here, after all.

And yet... the Sixers have been above a .500 team for a while now, at least if you just consider the last 3 months of the season. Experience is great, but wins are better. No one believes in the Sixers -- seriously, I haven't received a single email or mention about the team being in the playoffs from my local friends, let alone any interest in going to see a playoff game. You can go buy tickets to Game 3 or 4 right now... and we're not talking bad seats, either. (Heck, I just might.)

Detroit never loses a Game 1. They're great at establishing order and tempo early. And yet, here are the 7 seed Sixers, coming from 15 down in the third quarter, getting huge buckets from the extremely offensively-challenged Reggie Evans...

Well, I still don't really believe. But if they can somehow steal Game 2 as well? Well... I'm sure those tickets won't still be available.

The Spurs Will Retire You

Last Saturday night, the Spurs retired Avery Johnson's #6 jersey, as a way to thank him for his ten years of playing service to the team, and his role in the 1999 championship over the Knicks. (You can read about that series in Phil Jackson's upcoming book, "Things That Happened But Do Not Matter, Because I Said So.")

There is, of course, one glaring problem with putting the Little General up in the rafters, along with George "Iceman" Gervin (damn, now *that's* a nickname), Johnny Moore, David Robinson and Sean Elliot... and that's his current job, as the head coach of the hated rival Dallas Mavericks.

Seriously, Spurs Fan, what the hell? Johnson's Mavs may have no stomach for dealing with Nellieball in the playoffs and look for all the world like they left their heart in Oakland, but they match up better with you than any other team in the West... and you're putting their coach in your rafters? Either the organization thinks so highly of him that they want to make sure he'll jump over once Gregg Popovich is finally ready to move on, they don't see the Mavs as a serious threat, or they think that the job that a head coach does is so minor, so lacking in impact, that they can just disregard the gig.

And that's all I have to say about that. Any Spurs fans out there that want to let me know what the deal is, I'd appreciate it.

A few questions for you college football fans

Again, I know nothing of college football, and only saw the Heisman Award event because I tuned in early for the 1am SportsCenter and caught the replay... but:

1) If you are Tim Tebow, can you really get all that wrapped up, and thank Jesus repeatedly, when you see Andre Ware, Gino Toretta and Eric Crouch on the dais behind you?

2) If you are Tebow, why, exactly, are you so enthused to go back to school? From what I can tell, the Florida offense involves him getting hit 30 times a game. Minimum.

3) Do the men I mentioned above (along with many, many others of course) show up at this event because of the promise of a hot meal?

4) How much better as a pro will Darren McFadden be, now that he's got the Double Pissed Off thing happening for him? I'd make the Mike Ditka Memorial Move for him, and I've never actually seen him play.

5) Shouldn't they just rename this thing the Offensive Skill Position Award?

But in all seriousness, congrats to Tebow. He joins Steve Spurrier and Danny Wuerrfel, the two previous Heisman QB winners from Florida.

Um...

6) Why does anyone care about this award again?

Our Main Weapons Include Fear, Surprise, and Abject Stupidity

We realize, of course, that it's damn near required by law to discuss The Big Story in sports today -- the tragic but not terribly surprising downfall of a young black quarterback that looked so good, so little time ago.

We're talking, of course, about Daunte Culpepper, released by the Miami Dolphins, because they went out and got themselves Trent Green. Let that sink in for a little while -- they think so little of your talents that they bring in a guy that's positively ancient by NFL standards, with several years of decline despite always having an outstanding running game, who doesn't have nearly the same physical gifts nor draft pedigree...

Oh, you mean there was another QB Immolation yesterday, too?

Yes, the other paw finally dropped in the Mike Vick Cares More About Dog Fighting Than Wealth or Freedom case. A federal grand jury has indicted the southpaw QB (get it? Southpaw! I kill dogs!), asserting all manner of deeds that, once learned, can never be unlearned.

Even by modern athlete standards, Vick's self-inflicted flameout to his career staggers the mind. We're talking about a guy that was a video game come to life, a player who took a dome team into Green Bay and won a playoff game, and the greatest runner ever to play the quarterback position.

OK, he wasn't accurate or durable, and he probably was always better in video games or fantasy leagues... but to go from one of the five most marketable players in (perhaps) the world's most marketable sport to a guy looking at many *years* in the federal hole is just amazing. Don't discount the idea that he'll do time, either. Since Vick made the tactical mistake of not being in the Bush Administration, convictions may actually have consequences.

And for what, really? A taboo thrill. An indecent bloodlust. Combined with gambling. Beyond the sickness of it all, there's also rank stupidity. Do your weirdness in your '40s, no one would notice or care, and you'd probably have more money to buy your Island or Dr. Moreau anyway.

The Falcons, as soon as this freak show gets in their rear view mirror, are the prime candidates for the Nobody Expected This Good Year -- especially since Vick isn't actually a plus quarterback. Since this is football, they won't even take much of a cap hit from this.

And our final word on all this... did anyone have Mike as the Vick Brother to go to the Big House first? Because that bet had to pay off like a Chihuahua pulling off a win against a Doberman. (It's not the size of the dog in the fight, as they say.)

Update -- Turns out that if the Falcons trade or release him, it's $15 million against their cap. What a poison pill this is.

I Guess There is Crying in Baseball

Who knew? As reported by ESPN, Carlos Zambrano and Michael Barrett shared a few tears after their little skirmish last week:

"He came to me the next day, and he apologized and I apologized to him and we cried," a teary-eyed Zambrano said after he beat the Milwaukee Brewers on Wednesday. "I still love him."

I'm sure an old-school manager like Lou Piniella is down with the sharing of these kind of feelings. What better way to end a slump in your season than to tell your fellow teammate that you love them.

Here are a few other phrases that you can probably hear most any day at Wrigley:

1. "My therapist thinks having me sacrifice bunt revives feelings of rejection and angst. OK if I just hack away Lou?"

2. "I'm going to pass on extra BP. Oprah is revealing her book of the month club selection right now."

3. "We still get juice boxes and fruit after the game even if we don't win, right?"

4. "Off day tomorrow - who wants to get facials?"

5. "Man, Lou is really uptight. He could use an Appletini or two."

6. "Queer Eye's On!!!"

7. "Listen rook, all these day games will wreak havoc on your skin. Finding the right exfoliant is an important part of your daily routine."

8. "Your fastball isn't moving and your curve has no movement tonight. Need a hug?"

You had me at hello, Carlos. You had me at hello.

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