[Note: This column appears in the Nov 30 edition of Flyer News]
In a year where nothing but the unexpected can be expected, it is certainly appropriate that college football fans everywhere still have no idea what’s going to happen.
The unexpected has seriously infected this year’s BCS season, and exposed an incompetent and flawed BCS system. This may sound like the same old song that Auburn sang in 2004, but this year and all the upsets that have come with it have changed the tune.
Normally, college football is largely without parody. The teams that should win normally do. But this year has been different – a good different. There have been a number of fantastic upsets this year – Stanford over USC, Kentucky over LSU, Illinois over Ohio State and Harvard over Yale, just to name a few.
Other championship-determining systems are structured to embrace the underdog, but not the BCS. The Olympic men’s hockey tournament found a permanent spot for the legendary 1980 U.S. Hockey team in the hearts of American’s everywhere. NCAA basketball’s March Madness tournament has given us the N.C. State Wolfpack’s championship run in 1983, George Mason’s run from CAA obscurity to a Final Four birth in 2006, and even provided a job for ESPN’s Joe Lunardi. Why can’t college football and the BCS give us the same?
It can give us all of that, and potentially more with a few alterations. Here are my suggestions:
First of all, every college team should play the same amount of games. There is no reason a team like Missouri should have to play an extra game which can ultimately do them no good. If they win, they’re still number one. If they lose, their season is done.
Unfortunately for Missouri, they do have to compete for a Big 12 Championship against Oklahoma this weekend. Meanwhile, Ohio State, USC and Georgia get to watch someone else win them a chance to play in a National Title game.
Missouri, with a loss this weekend, would finish the season at 11-2 and out of the National Title game in favor of Ohio State, even though the two Missouri losses would both come at the hands of a top-10 Oklahoma team – once at Oklahoma and once at a neutral site, whereas Ohio State’s lone loss came to a then unranked Illinois team at home.
With both a Missouri and West Virginia loss, Georgia could also potentially compete for the National Title without even winning their division. How can a team win a National Title if they can’t even win the SEC East? The short answer: they can’t, or rather, they shouldn’t.
Something needs to be done to institute a playoff system in the BCS. The “Big Six” conferences should all determine a winner somehow. Each conference would have their choice of playing a championship game or just crowning a regular season champion to determine a winner. Those six teams go on to play in the postseason playoff.
The remaining two spots in the eight-team playoff would go to two at-large bids from the remaining Division I-A conferences and the four independent teams. A formula much like the current BCS system could determine the two best teams from this category. This may seem like it creates the same problem for the small-conference teams, but less teams vying for two spots makes for better odds than the current system.
The eight teams that qualify for the postseason tournament are then ranked numbers one through eight by the BCS formula to determine the matchups. This playoff structure makes the BCS formula seem like a kick off wedge-buster instead of a starting quarterback in the football game of postseason championships. It’s still a factor, but it has less control over the final outcome. After that, a miraculous thing happens: the teams simply play to determine a champion.
I’m not saying its perfect, but this hybrid system may take the BS out of the BCS.
Wednesday 28 November 2007
Wednesday 7 November 2007
From the Back Page to Page 2
[Note: This post is a roommate collaboration. My roommate, Nicholas Iannarino, and I wrote this in response to a heinously ignorant article in our college newspaper.
Before you read our letter to the editor that follows, make sure to read the aforementioned artricle at this link:
-http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?section=Sports&volume=55&issue=14&artnum=02
This post was published in the Nov 7 edition of Flyer News.]
We were at a loss for words.
After reading sports editor Will Hanlon’s recent column, the overblown and excessively dramatic “Legendary Columnist Rick Reilly Sells His Soul,” we, needless to say, were justifiably baffled at the words printed in front of us.
Along with Mr. Hanlon, we are both longtime fans of “Sports Illustrated’s” legendary back page columnist. While the three of us have a, perhaps, unhealthy infatuation with Mr. Reilly, we couldn’t disagree more with Mr. Hanlon’s column.
The author details his obvious displeasure for Reilly’s decision to move to ESPN after 23 years at SI. We too were very surprised to learn of Reilly’s announcement, but it doesn’t take much consideration to realize that this could actually be an exceptional scenario for any true fan of Reilly’s.
Monetary reasons may have had an impact on Reilly’s decision to leave SI for ESPN, but there is much more to this move than simple dollar signs. Reilly, as it has been reported by ESPN, will be much more involved at his new company than he was with the writing of “The Life of Reilly,” his previous weekly column at SI. For ESPN, Reilly will, of course, regularly contribute to “ESPN the Magazine.” But, since the magazine is only circulated monthly, he will provide additional, longer, and more frequent content for ESPN.com and appear regularly on one or more of ESPN’s cable television networks.
The more Rick Reilly the better. Maybe he simply wants to be more involved in other aspects of media. The times are a changing, and Reilly, most likely, realizes the internet and television would be a different, more creatively challenging form of media for him to pursue.
Reilly’s been at SI since 1984. 23 years is a long time to be doing anything, be it bagging groceries, selling insurance or writing a weekly sports column. Reilly’s probably burnt out. As a writer himself, Mr. Hanlon should know that redundancy and repetition are fierce rivals to creativity. Change is not something to be feared or, in this case, despised, especially when it could allow an artist to continually improve (even when we may think they have no room to do so) or to prolong a career. Would you rather see Reilly remain loyal and potentially watch his work suffer?
As pretentious as Mr. Hanlon’s personal list is, there is no reason to drop Reilly behind any other sportswriter on this planet. He is changing jobs. Not his style. Not his humor. Not his personality. Thankfully, Reilly’s at a point in his career where he doesn’t need to care what the sports editor of some university newspaper in Ohio thinks of him.
If Reilly’s motives were purely monetary then he absolutely would have left SI years ago. We can’t imagine this is the first time in 23 years that ESPN, or any other organization for that matter, has offered him a better deal than SI. The circumstances must have been right this time. He must have liked what was being offered in the way of new opportunities, exposure and workload. And there’s no reason not to take advantage.
Yes, ESPN may maintain somewhat of a monopoly on sports entertainment. But it isn’t without merit. They are the “Worldwide Leader in Sports” because they employ the best writers, reporters and sports personalities on the planet. Rick Reilly fits that mold, and will fit in well at ESPN.
If Reilly’s work was compromised through this move, then we could go ahead and call him a sellout. But whether Reilly’s on the back page, or Page 2, he will always be the same writer entertaining us all with every word he writes.
Before you read our letter to the editor that follows, make sure to read the aforementioned artricle at this link:
-http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?section=Sports&volume=55&issue=14&artnum=02
This post was published in the Nov 7 edition of Flyer News.]
We were at a loss for words.
After reading sports editor Will Hanlon’s recent column, the overblown and excessively dramatic “Legendary Columnist Rick Reilly Sells His Soul,” we, needless to say, were justifiably baffled at the words printed in front of us.
Along with Mr. Hanlon, we are both longtime fans of “Sports Illustrated’s” legendary back page columnist. While the three of us have a, perhaps, unhealthy infatuation with Mr. Reilly, we couldn’t disagree more with Mr. Hanlon’s column.
The author details his obvious displeasure for Reilly’s decision to move to ESPN after 23 years at SI. We too were very surprised to learn of Reilly’s announcement, but it doesn’t take much consideration to realize that this could actually be an exceptional scenario for any true fan of Reilly’s.
Monetary reasons may have had an impact on Reilly’s decision to leave SI for ESPN, but there is much more to this move than simple dollar signs. Reilly, as it has been reported by ESPN, will be much more involved at his new company than he was with the writing of “The Life of Reilly,” his previous weekly column at SI. For ESPN, Reilly will, of course, regularly contribute to “ESPN the Magazine.” But, since the magazine is only circulated monthly, he will provide additional, longer, and more frequent content for ESPN.com and appear regularly on one or more of ESPN’s cable television networks.
The more Rick Reilly the better. Maybe he simply wants to be more involved in other aspects of media. The times are a changing, and Reilly, most likely, realizes the internet and television would be a different, more creatively challenging form of media for him to pursue.
Reilly’s been at SI since 1984. 23 years is a long time to be doing anything, be it bagging groceries, selling insurance or writing a weekly sports column. Reilly’s probably burnt out. As a writer himself, Mr. Hanlon should know that redundancy and repetition are fierce rivals to creativity. Change is not something to be feared or, in this case, despised, especially when it could allow an artist to continually improve (even when we may think they have no room to do so) or to prolong a career. Would you rather see Reilly remain loyal and potentially watch his work suffer?
As pretentious as Mr. Hanlon’s personal list is, there is no reason to drop Reilly behind any other sportswriter on this planet. He is changing jobs. Not his style. Not his humor. Not his personality. Thankfully, Reilly’s at a point in his career where he doesn’t need to care what the sports editor of some university newspaper in Ohio thinks of him.
If Reilly’s motives were purely monetary then he absolutely would have left SI years ago. We can’t imagine this is the first time in 23 years that ESPN, or any other organization for that matter, has offered him a better deal than SI. The circumstances must have been right this time. He must have liked what was being offered in the way of new opportunities, exposure and workload. And there’s no reason not to take advantage.
Yes, ESPN may maintain somewhat of a monopoly on sports entertainment. But it isn’t without merit. They are the “Worldwide Leader in Sports” because they employ the best writers, reporters and sports personalities on the planet. Rick Reilly fits that mold, and will fit in well at ESPN.
If Reilly’s work was compromised through this move, then we could go ahead and call him a sellout. But whether Reilly’s on the back page, or Page 2, he will always be the same writer entertaining us all with every word he writes.
Tuesday 30 October 2007
Trading Dollars for Wins, One Season at a Time
[Author's Note: This is meant to be satirical. The quotes are in no way true, but the circumstance, regretfully, is.]
With the Yankees' ups and downs, the Red Sox dominance and the end-of-the-season lightning bolt that was the Rockies, you might not have noticed, but the Pittsburgh Pirates made history.
That's right, Pirate Fans, your team has done something no other team in the history of Major League Baseball has managed to do. In fact, they have done something that no other team in the history of organized professional sports has managed to do. That's any sport, at any time.
The Pittsburgh Pirates were the first team ever to suffer 16 consecutive losing seasons.
The last time the Pirates won more games than they lost I was 5 years old. That was 1991. The first George Bush was still President, and Barry Bond's head was still roughly the size of mine.
This might seem like a major disappointment, and a terrible way to make history, and that's because it is. This is the O.J. Simpson kind of history. The Pirates will never be remembered for the teams of the 60's and the 70's that actually won games and multiple World Series; the same way O.J. will never be remembered for winning the Heisman Trophy and rushing for 2,000 yards in a NFL season. The Pirates will be remembered forever for their horrendous run of 16 consecutive losing seasons, and O.J. will always be the guy in the White Ford Bronco who may or may not have killed two people and got away with it.
This is not, I repeat, NOT the way an organization wants to make history. Or so you'd think.
Apparently there are those within the organization that are glad to see the small-market Pirates finally on the map - even if the circumstances themselves aren't exactly favorable. It is no coincidence, however, that the people who think this are also the same folks that made the Pirates "small-market" in the first place.
"Streaks. You want to talk about streaks? Well, [Lou] Gehrig had a hit in 54 consecutive games, Cal [Ripkin Jr.] played in, what, almost 4,000 games without missing one and the Pirates were below .500 for 16 seasons in a row...and counting," Pirates Chairman and principle owner, Robert Nutting said. "As far as I'm concerned, we're in good company."
You'll have to excuse Mr. Nutting. It seems his wallet has fallen off of his dresser crushing his skull on its way to the floor. You see, the man is rich. He's not stupid. He owns one the worst baseball team in the league (right now, but definitely THE worst over the last 16 years), but that doesn't stop him from raking in the third best profit margin in the MLB.
How can a perennial loser make that much money?
It's quite simple.
He puts a cheap and, consequently, terrible product on the field. (Notice I didn't use the word team - it's not a team; it's a product.) A product that Nutting markets, and markets well, to the point where tickets are still sold and seats still fill up. It doesn't hurt that he has the best skyline (not arguable) in the country serving as a backdrop to arguably the best new stadium in the league.
I'm not saying Nutting is responsible for every single losing season dating back to 1991 (mainly because he has only controlled the team since '03), but he has the power to at least turn it around, spend some money and put a decent team out there. They don't even have to be good. Decent should be the goal, but decent isn't the goal - dollar signs are. They might make money, but they keep losing. I am beginning to think that they like it.
"I'm glad I could come in and contribute right away," said former Bucco Manager, Jim Tracy. "They wanted to continue this losing tradition. I'm proud to say I got them there, and I'm sure the ownership is happy with the things we weren't able to accomplish. I won't lie. I'll be rooting for them in the future to really put this streak out of reach."
They have made losing an art form and I can't see anything standing in their way of putting this non-record out of reach. The ownership can pretend they are making changes to better the team by letting go of Dave Littlefield and Jim Tracy, but we all know that their replacements will do just as terrible of a job. It's not that the Pirates hire incompetent idiots. It's the fact that they are given nothing financially to make a splash in free agency, make a big trade or rejuvenate a decrepit farm system.
Money is everything to the Nuttings. What they fail to realize is that money is everything to the Pirates and creating a winning team again.
"I'm tired of being the highest paid play on this team," shortstop Jack Wilson said. "Don't tell the front office people this, but I'm also tired of losing. I don't like it anymore. We set the record, now let us win."
Jumpin' Jack Flash might be on to something. Let's start with him. Stop over paying glorified utility infielders $5.4 million to hit sub .250, get rid of him and try signing someone that will win you games.
Here's hoping 16 is all the embarrassment one organization can stomach.
With the Yankees' ups and downs, the Red Sox dominance and the end-of-the-season lightning bolt that was the Rockies, you might not have noticed, but the Pittsburgh Pirates made history.
That's right, Pirate Fans, your team has done something no other team in the history of Major League Baseball has managed to do. In fact, they have done something that no other team in the history of organized professional sports has managed to do. That's any sport, at any time.
The Pittsburgh Pirates were the first team ever to suffer 16 consecutive losing seasons.
The last time the Pirates won more games than they lost I was 5 years old. That was 1991. The first George Bush was still President, and Barry Bond's head was still roughly the size of mine.
This might seem like a major disappointment, and a terrible way to make history, and that's because it is. This is the O.J. Simpson kind of history. The Pirates will never be remembered for the teams of the 60's and the 70's that actually won games and multiple World Series; the same way O.J. will never be remembered for winning the Heisman Trophy and rushing for 2,000 yards in a NFL season. The Pirates will be remembered forever for their horrendous run of 16 consecutive losing seasons, and O.J. will always be the guy in the White Ford Bronco who may or may not have killed two people and got away with it.
This is not, I repeat, NOT the way an organization wants to make history. Or so you'd think.
Apparently there are those within the organization that are glad to see the small-market Pirates finally on the map - even if the circumstances themselves aren't exactly favorable. It is no coincidence, however, that the people who think this are also the same folks that made the Pirates "small-market" in the first place.
"Streaks. You want to talk about streaks? Well, [Lou] Gehrig had a hit in 54 consecutive games, Cal [Ripkin Jr.] played in, what, almost 4,000 games without missing one and the Pirates were below .500 for 16 seasons in a row...and counting," Pirates Chairman and principle owner, Robert Nutting said. "As far as I'm concerned, we're in good company."
You'll have to excuse Mr. Nutting. It seems his wallet has fallen off of his dresser crushing his skull on its way to the floor. You see, the man is rich. He's not stupid. He owns one the worst baseball team in the league (right now, but definitely THE worst over the last 16 years), but that doesn't stop him from raking in the third best profit margin in the MLB.
How can a perennial loser make that much money?
It's quite simple.
He puts a cheap and, consequently, terrible product on the field. (Notice I didn't use the word team - it's not a team; it's a product.) A product that Nutting markets, and markets well, to the point where tickets are still sold and seats still fill up. It doesn't hurt that he has the best skyline (not arguable) in the country serving as a backdrop to arguably the best new stadium in the league.
I'm not saying Nutting is responsible for every single losing season dating back to 1991 (mainly because he has only controlled the team since '03), but he has the power to at least turn it around, spend some money and put a decent team out there. They don't even have to be good. Decent should be the goal, but decent isn't the goal - dollar signs are. They might make money, but they keep losing. I am beginning to think that they like it.
"I'm glad I could come in and contribute right away," said former Bucco Manager, Jim Tracy. "They wanted to continue this losing tradition. I'm proud to say I got them there, and I'm sure the ownership is happy with the things we weren't able to accomplish. I won't lie. I'll be rooting for them in the future to really put this streak out of reach."
They have made losing an art form and I can't see anything standing in their way of putting this non-record out of reach. The ownership can pretend they are making changes to better the team by letting go of Dave Littlefield and Jim Tracy, but we all know that their replacements will do just as terrible of a job. It's not that the Pirates hire incompetent idiots. It's the fact that they are given nothing financially to make a splash in free agency, make a big trade or rejuvenate a decrepit farm system.
Money is everything to the Nuttings. What they fail to realize is that money is everything to the Pirates and creating a winning team again.
"I'm tired of being the highest paid play on this team," shortstop Jack Wilson said. "Don't tell the front office people this, but I'm also tired of losing. I don't like it anymore. We set the record, now let us win."
Jumpin' Jack Flash might be on to something. Let's start with him. Stop over paying glorified utility infielders $5.4 million to hit sub .250, get rid of him and try signing someone that will win you games.
Here's hoping 16 is all the embarrassment one organization can stomach.
Tuesday 2 October 2007
Head First into the Playoffs
[I wrote this for my sportswriting class, so it might not be what you are used to, but I threw it up here anyways...Enjoy, or don't. I guess that's up to you]
There’s nothing more exciting in major league baseball than an extra-inning, sudden-death, loser-go-home, game to decide who goes on to the post season and who sits at home and watches from their couch.
Last night the Colorado Rockies won the National League Wild Card after beating the San Diego Padres in a 13-inning one-game playoff at Coors Field in Denver, Colo.
It wasn’t just that the Rockies beat the Padres and secured a place in this year’s playoffs, it was how they did it. The Rockies won an astonishing 13 of there last 14 regular season games to catch up with the Padres and force this dramatic one-game playoff.
The Padres had every opportunity to win the wild card. In fact, they were one out away from beating the Milwaukee Brewers, locking up the wild card and solidifying their position in the post season, but thanks to a Tony Gywnn Jr. game-winning hit, the Rockies lived to see another day and the Padres were forced to play for their lives last night in Denver.
Unfortunately for the Padres and their fans, they lost the game and their premature playoff lives. To their credit, the Padres didn’t go quietly into the night. They battled back from a 3-0 early deficit, and in dramatic fashion took their only lead at 4-3 thanks to an Adrian Gonzalez 4th-inning grand slam. From that point on, the game became an instant classic as the Rockies battled back.
You can’t write the drama that sport provides, and that was certainly true for this game. It had all the makings of a jaw-dropping classic.
I’m a Pittsburgh native and a Pirate fan, and with that comes the inability to get excited for much of anything that happens on a major-league diamond, but I can say without a shred of a doubt that I was more than excited last night.
Fast forward to the top of the 13th inning where the real drama happened as the Padres took an 8-6 lead off of a Scott Hairston two-run homerun. At that point, I thought the Rockies were done, and couldn’t come back and win and so did the rest of the civilized world.
The Rockies, as they have all year, had other plans and knew they could mount a comeback and slide head first (quite literally) into the playoffs. The Rockies came out in the home half of the inning and hit back to back doubles followed by a clutch triple from a National League MVP candidate, Matt Halladay. Keep in mind this all came off of the majors all-time leader in saves, Trevor Hoffman.
Todd Helton was then intentionally walked if only because it only seemed inevitable that he would end this game with a walk-off hit since he has been a Rockie since Prince was cool. The Padres and Hoffman took that opportunity away from Helton and took their chances with Jamey Carroll, who ultimately ended the game with a walk-off sac liner to Brian Giles in right field.
As Halladay tagged up and raced home, he and the Rockies slid into the playoffs head first with a face full of dirt as his hand may or may not have touched the dish. That doesn’t matter, though. He was called safe, and his team won the game because of it.
Don’t hate, appreciate. The Rockies are in the playoffs.
Celebrate the Rockies and the one-game playoff structure.
There’s nothing more exciting in major league baseball than an extra-inning, sudden-death, loser-go-home, game to decide who goes on to the post season and who sits at home and watches from their couch.
Last night the Colorado Rockies won the National League Wild Card after beating the San Diego Padres in a 13-inning one-game playoff at Coors Field in Denver, Colo.
It wasn’t just that the Rockies beat the Padres and secured a place in this year’s playoffs, it was how they did it. The Rockies won an astonishing 13 of there last 14 regular season games to catch up with the Padres and force this dramatic one-game playoff.
The Padres had every opportunity to win the wild card. In fact, they were one out away from beating the Milwaukee Brewers, locking up the wild card and solidifying their position in the post season, but thanks to a Tony Gywnn Jr. game-winning hit, the Rockies lived to see another day and the Padres were forced to play for their lives last night in Denver.
Unfortunately for the Padres and their fans, they lost the game and their premature playoff lives. To their credit, the Padres didn’t go quietly into the night. They battled back from a 3-0 early deficit, and in dramatic fashion took their only lead at 4-3 thanks to an Adrian Gonzalez 4th-inning grand slam. From that point on, the game became an instant classic as the Rockies battled back.
You can’t write the drama that sport provides, and that was certainly true for this game. It had all the makings of a jaw-dropping classic.
I’m a Pittsburgh native and a Pirate fan, and with that comes the inability to get excited for much of anything that happens on a major-league diamond, but I can say without a shred of a doubt that I was more than excited last night.
Fast forward to the top of the 13th inning where the real drama happened as the Padres took an 8-6 lead off of a Scott Hairston two-run homerun. At that point, I thought the Rockies were done, and couldn’t come back and win and so did the rest of the civilized world.
The Rockies, as they have all year, had other plans and knew they could mount a comeback and slide head first (quite literally) into the playoffs. The Rockies came out in the home half of the inning and hit back to back doubles followed by a clutch triple from a National League MVP candidate, Matt Halladay. Keep in mind this all came off of the majors all-time leader in saves, Trevor Hoffman.
Todd Helton was then intentionally walked if only because it only seemed inevitable that he would end this game with a walk-off hit since he has been a Rockie since Prince was cool. The Padres and Hoffman took that opportunity away from Helton and took their chances with Jamey Carroll, who ultimately ended the game with a walk-off sac liner to Brian Giles in right field.
As Halladay tagged up and raced home, he and the Rockies slid into the playoffs head first with a face full of dirt as his hand may or may not have touched the dish. That doesn’t matter, though. He was called safe, and his team won the game because of it.
Don’t hate, appreciate. The Rockies are in the playoffs.
Celebrate the Rockies and the one-game playoff structure.
Wednesday 26 September 2007
Mike Gundy: More Than OK
[Note: This post appears in the October 5 edition of Flyer News]
I didn’t need to hear him. I didn’t need to know who he was. All I needed to know was what I saw on the television from across the dining room in the Kennedy Union.
The sound was down and there was a coach dressed in a bright shade of orange with an even brighter red face screaming. I knew it was bad because he had gone outside the orange backdrop.
You know what I mean. The backdrop adorned with the team logo that sits behind those speaking at a post-game press conference. The coach was outside the area that he was supposed to be in, and that spells trouble. Just ask John Calapari or John Cheney.
I went straight back to my apartment and thanks to the genius that is YouTube I was able to quickly find this rant and enjoy it.
The coach is Mike Gundy and he coaches the football team at Oklahoma State University (OSU) and needless to say, he was not happy. If you have yet to see this rant, look it up. It’s good. It may, in fact, be the best coaching rant this side of Dennis Green.
It was an intensely angry rant, but unlike most press-conference rants that came before it, Gundy actually made a point. Herm Edwards has a knack for the obvious. Allen Iverson and Jim Mora love to repeat choice words, but Gundy made a point, and that makes it all the better.
Gundy criticized a local reporter, Jenni Carlson, for her recent column in which she wrote about an OSU quarterback, Bobby Reid, who was recently benched. Gundy claimed that three-fourths of Carlson’s article was fiction, and that there was no need for Carlson to criticize a college football player’s actions off the field.
At one point in the article (which I skimmed) she actually makes a reference to the benched quarterback wanting to be coddled in his mothers’ arms: “Does he want to be coddled, babied and possibly fed chicken?” Low blow, Ms. Carlson. Keep those gloves up.
Gundy responded to the low blow with hard right hooks. He called the article garbage, and the editor that let it out garbage. Strong words, but an overall good message.
Keep in mind that this was following a game that OK State beat a decent Texas Tech team, and this is all that Gundy said following that impressive victory. He was so angry that he used the time set aside for post-game discussion to blast a reporter.
Gundy’s point is a valid one and raises an interesting debate. Are college athletes scrutinized too intensely by the media?
Gundy’s stance, and the correct one, is: yes, they are.
Don’t get me wrong, I think that anything college athletes do on the field is fair game. By playing for these schools and accepting their scholarships college athletes have to understand that a certain level of on-the-field scrutiny in the media comes with the territory. As long as it stays on the field. The point that Gundy made is that there is no need to attack the off-field character of an amateur athlete.
Professional athletes are, for the most part, grown men. The can handle it. They play their chosen sport for a living and accept all that comes with it. With the landscape of professional sports in this country being what it is, professional athletes are treated as celebrities, and that celebrity status comes with constant scrutiny on the field and in life. Just ask A-Rod. College athletes are not professionals, so they shouldn’t be treated as such.
Kudos to Gundy for sticking up for his now backup quarterback. He’s right. Say what you want about Reid’s play, but leave his personal life and character alone. He’s just a kid. There is no place for that.
The sad part is that Carlson sticks by her story even though Gundy pointed out specific things that he claims were flat out wrong. Carlson will not be punished for her seemingly irresponsible reporting, but will instead be praised because of the ubiquitous attention her employer has gained.
Maybe she’s the one that needs to be benched.
I didn’t need to hear him. I didn’t need to know who he was. All I needed to know was what I saw on the television from across the dining room in the Kennedy Union.
The sound was down and there was a coach dressed in a bright shade of orange with an even brighter red face screaming. I knew it was bad because he had gone outside the orange backdrop.
You know what I mean. The backdrop adorned with the team logo that sits behind those speaking at a post-game press conference. The coach was outside the area that he was supposed to be in, and that spells trouble. Just ask John Calapari or John Cheney.
I went straight back to my apartment and thanks to the genius that is YouTube I was able to quickly find this rant and enjoy it.
The coach is Mike Gundy and he coaches the football team at Oklahoma State University (OSU) and needless to say, he was not happy. If you have yet to see this rant, look it up. It’s good. It may, in fact, be the best coaching rant this side of Dennis Green.
It was an intensely angry rant, but unlike most press-conference rants that came before it, Gundy actually made a point. Herm Edwards has a knack for the obvious. Allen Iverson and Jim Mora love to repeat choice words, but Gundy made a point, and that makes it all the better.
Gundy criticized a local reporter, Jenni Carlson, for her recent column in which she wrote about an OSU quarterback, Bobby Reid, who was recently benched. Gundy claimed that three-fourths of Carlson’s article was fiction, and that there was no need for Carlson to criticize a college football player’s actions off the field.
At one point in the article (which I skimmed) she actually makes a reference to the benched quarterback wanting to be coddled in his mothers’ arms: “Does he want to be coddled, babied and possibly fed chicken?” Low blow, Ms. Carlson. Keep those gloves up.
Gundy responded to the low blow with hard right hooks. He called the article garbage, and the editor that let it out garbage. Strong words, but an overall good message.
Keep in mind that this was following a game that OK State beat a decent Texas Tech team, and this is all that Gundy said following that impressive victory. He was so angry that he used the time set aside for post-game discussion to blast a reporter.
Gundy’s point is a valid one and raises an interesting debate. Are college athletes scrutinized too intensely by the media?
Gundy’s stance, and the correct one, is: yes, they are.
Don’t get me wrong, I think that anything college athletes do on the field is fair game. By playing for these schools and accepting their scholarships college athletes have to understand that a certain level of on-the-field scrutiny in the media comes with the territory. As long as it stays on the field. The point that Gundy made is that there is no need to attack the off-field character of an amateur athlete.
Professional athletes are, for the most part, grown men. The can handle it. They play their chosen sport for a living and accept all that comes with it. With the landscape of professional sports in this country being what it is, professional athletes are treated as celebrities, and that celebrity status comes with constant scrutiny on the field and in life. Just ask A-Rod. College athletes are not professionals, so they shouldn’t be treated as such.
Kudos to Gundy for sticking up for his now backup quarterback. He’s right. Say what you want about Reid’s play, but leave his personal life and character alone. He’s just a kid. There is no place for that.
The sad part is that Carlson sticks by her story even though Gundy pointed out specific things that he claims were flat out wrong. Carlson will not be punished for her seemingly irresponsible reporting, but will instead be praised because of the ubiquitous attention her employer has gained.
Maybe she’s the one that needs to be benched.
Thursday 13 September 2007
Racing Trains
Joga bonito.
See, if your knowledge of foreign languages consists of five years of high-school Latin, and the occasional Spanish at family get-togethers from my mother's siblings that grew up for a time in Puerto Rico, like mine, then you have absolutely no idea what language that is, let alone what it means.
It's OK, don't worry, I didn't either.
I didn't, but I certainly do now. (It's Portuguese and it means "play beautiful")
This year has been full of once-in-a-lifetime opportunities for me. Just look back through the blog and you'll find Puerto Rican basketball games, and the US Open, but this most recent one could be the rarest of all. I got the chance to attend the Clash of Champions at Soldier Field in Chicago Ill. which matched up the U.S. Men's National Soccer against the Brazilian Men's National team.
Seeing Brazil play is, by definition, a once-in-a-lifetime opprotunity. They are arguably the greatest team to ever play the world's game. They have a two-time FIFA Footballer of the Year in Ronaldhino and the player that many think is a lock for this year's honors in Kaka.
Naturally, my three friends and I were up for the almost 5 hour trek to Chicago for a 90 minute game. It cost us a mere $49 dollars for a ticket and another measly $22 for gas (which I have still yet to pay). For those of you who may have forgotten, $72 dollars is a large chunk of change for any 20-year-old college student. Regardless, it was money well spent.
On the way there I got us lost right outside of Chicago. I use "lost" very loosely though, because we were heading in the correct direction the entire time. I just chose the scenic route. We went through the Hyde Park area of Chicago until I found the road we were supposed to be on the whole time.
We got to the stadium at least an hour and a half early, and parked in a garage for $25. Yes, that is no typo. I think we paid a dollar for every foot under ground we parked. It was hot, sticky, and straight-up uncomfortable. If you couldn't tell, I strongly dislike/fear parking garages, but that is a story for another day.
We went straight to our seats. They were the best seats $49 could buy. We were the second row in the second section right behind the south goal. We couldn't have been any happier.
The national anthem for both countries played, and for the first time in my life I heard the crowd actually singing the national anthem of the United States. It was a spine-tingling scene as both teams warmed up and eventually took the field.
As for the game, the US actually showed up and took an early 1-0 lead off of a corner kick. The place exploded. That is to say the minority of the US fans exploded. The crowed of 43,543 was at least 51% in Brazil's favor. I guess it's to be expected. As my buddy Tim put it: "If you go to a Texas Rangers game in Arlington against the Yankees, you shouldn't be surprised to see more Yankee fans." And that is exactly what US soccer is. We are the Texas Rangers to their Brazilian Yankees. Maybe even worse.
But you wouldn't know it by the level of play in the first half of the game. Granted, Brazil imposed their will on the US and scored four goals (the fourth was an extra time PK, and
the third came on a Ronaldhino free-kick after a questionable call). The US came to play, and I was proud to see them compete with Brazil. Although the end result was 4-2, the US could find plenty positive things to hang their proverbal hats on.
The difference between the teams is two-fold. First, and most obvious, the Brazilian's are ridiculously more skilled than the Americans (and the rest of the world for that matter). The second is that the Brazilian team thinks about the game differently than the American team does.
I guess the latter comes back to the idea of "joga bonito." If the Brazilian's goal is to "play beautiful" than kudos to them, because their performance was nothing short of beautiful, and if anything, exceeded it. They see things the American's don't. They can play balls the American's can't. And, most importantly, they want to make the game beautiful and exciting, and they certainly are capable of that.
I can't do the Brazilian skill and the American's toughness and resiliancy justice, so watch this clip of highlights from the game with ESPN's Dave O'Brien and Eric Wynalda on the call.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzcwYYtbkow&feature=PlayList&p=CD8A0108B2494418&index=19
After all the excitement we got in the car and headed home.
It wasn't until the ride home that I finally realized how the US team felt. As we merged onto I-90, the Chicago L-Train was gaining on us out the left window and Tim stepped on the gas because he wanted to race the train. Us on the road and the train on its tracks. It was then when it hit me. Playing Brazil was like racing trains. You can play the best game of your life, and you still can't win. Just like us. We were gunning the Oldsmobile, and still couldn't beat that train.
The train will always be faster, and maybe Brazil will always be better.
See, if your knowledge of foreign languages consists of five years of high-school Latin, and the occasional Spanish at family get-togethers from my mother's siblings that grew up for a time in Puerto Rico, like mine, then you have absolutely no idea what language that is, let alone what it means.
It's OK, don't worry, I didn't either.
I didn't, but I certainly do now. (It's Portuguese and it means "play beautiful")
This year has been full of once-in-a-lifetime opportunities for me. Just look back through the blog and you'll find Puerto Rican basketball games, and the US Open, but this most recent one could be the rarest of all. I got the chance to attend the Clash of Champions at Soldier Field in Chicago Ill. which matched up the U.S. Men's National Soccer against the Brazilian Men's National team.
Seeing Brazil play is, by definition, a once-in-a-lifetime opprotunity. They are arguably the greatest team to ever play the world's game. They have a two-time FIFA Footballer of the Year in Ronaldhino and the player that many think is a lock for this year's honors in Kaka.
Naturally, my three friends and I were up for the almost 5 hour trek to Chicago for a 90 minute game. It cost us a mere $49 dollars for a ticket and another measly $22 for gas (which I have still yet to pay). For those of you who may have forgotten, $72 dollars is a large chunk of change for any 20-year-old college student. Regardless, it was money well spent.
On the way there I got us lost right outside of Chicago. I use "lost" very loosely though, because we were heading in the correct direction the entire time. I just chose the scenic route. We went through the Hyde Park area of Chicago until I found the road we were supposed to be on the whole time.
We got to the stadium at least an hour and a half early, and parked in a garage for $25. Yes, that is no typo. I think we paid a dollar for every foot under ground we parked. It was hot, sticky, and straight-up uncomfortable. If you couldn't tell, I strongly dislike/fear parking garages, but that is a story for another day.
We went straight to our seats. They were the best seats $49 could buy. We were the second row in the second section right behind the south goal. We couldn't have been any happier.
The national anthem for both countries played, and for the first time in my life I heard the crowd actually singing the national anthem of the United States. It was a spine-tingling scene as both teams warmed up and eventually took the field.
As for the game, the US actually showed up and took an early 1-0 lead off of a corner kick. The place exploded. That is to say the minority of the US fans exploded. The crowed of 43,543 was at least 51% in Brazil's favor. I guess it's to be expected. As my buddy Tim put it: "If you go to a Texas Rangers game in Arlington against the Yankees, you shouldn't be surprised to see more Yankee fans." And that is exactly what US soccer is. We are the Texas Rangers to their Brazilian Yankees. Maybe even worse.
But you wouldn't know it by the level of play in the first half of the game. Granted, Brazil imposed their will on the US and scored four goals (the fourth was an extra time PK, and
the third came on a Ronaldhino free-kick after a questionable call). The US came to play, and I was proud to see them compete with Brazil. Although the end result was 4-2, the US could find plenty positive things to hang their proverbal hats on.
The difference between the teams is two-fold. First, and most obvious, the Brazilian's are ridiculously more skilled than the Americans (and the rest of the world for that matter). The second is that the Brazilian team thinks about the game differently than the American team does.
I guess the latter comes back to the idea of "joga bonito." If the Brazilian's goal is to "play beautiful" than kudos to them, because their performance was nothing short of beautiful, and if anything, exceeded it. They see things the American's don't. They can play balls the American's can't. And, most importantly, they want to make the game beautiful and exciting, and they certainly are capable of that.
I can't do the Brazilian skill and the American's toughness and resiliancy justice, so watch this clip of highlights from the game with ESPN's Dave O'Brien and Eric Wynalda on the call.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzcwYYtbkow&feature=PlayList&p=CD8A0108B2494418&index=19
After all the excitement we got in the car and headed home.
It wasn't until the ride home that I finally realized how the US team felt. As we merged onto I-90, the Chicago L-Train was gaining on us out the left window and Tim stepped on the gas because he wanted to race the train. Us on the road and the train on its tracks. It was then when it hit me. Playing Brazil was like racing trains. You can play the best game of your life, and you still can't win. Just like us. We were gunning the Oldsmobile, and still couldn't beat that train.
The train will always be faster, and maybe Brazil will always be better.
Wednesday 8 August 2007
Crabbers and Captains in Puerto Rico
I've been alive for approximately 1,080 weeks.
And of all of those weeks the one I recently spent in Puerto Rico has to be up there with some of the best. Right behind the week following the Steeler's fifth Superbowl victory, and right behind the week I made my first communion. I mean, the former was bragging rights to all my Cincy friends - and anyone for that matter - and the latter contains the day that I, as a nine-year-old child made upwards of two grand.
This trip might not have given me any bragging rights over anyone other than the occasional jealous friend that only went to their grandparents house in Allentown, Pa, which is apparently somewhere outside of Philly - sounds like fun. And it certainly didn't make me two grand. But nonetheless it was a fantastic weekend.
I went with my parents and my two younger brothers for what might have been the last "family" vacation we all go on. If it was the last, it was certainly appropriate because it was also the best.
I spent the week laying by the pool, hiking in the rain forest, touring the largest rum distillery in the world (Bacardi, for those curious), and playing blackjack in the hotel casino.
Now, my first casino and blackjack experience was not as profitable as that glorious day 11 years ago when I made the easiest two grand of my life, but I made some money. Which, if you know me at all, pleases me beyond words.
Ya, Eric, that's cool and all, but I thought these posts were usually about sports.
You're right, and that brings me to the greatest part of my 7-day adventure onwhat I think has to be the greatest island in this hemisphere, at least. On Sunday evening, my family and I got the chance to attend the 5th game of the Superior Basketball League final series.
The what?
The Superior Basketball League, or SBL, is Puerto Rico's version of the NBA. (Coincidentally enough, superior is also the name of Bacardi's most famous rum). My mother went to high school in Puerto Rico, and still has friends in the area, and one of them was nice enough to get us tickets. I sat two seats from center court. Eight rows up. Not bad.
Going into this game, I didn't know what to expect, and I think that made it all the better.
Imagine my surprise when I realize that I know two players on the court (one from each team).
Here's two names from the depths of NBA rosters everywhere. Are you ready? First, we have my personal favorite and former Michigan stand-out, Robert "Tractor" Traylor. And taking the tip against him was Iowa State's Marcus Fizer.
Traylor played for the Santurce Calebrejeros (Crabbers) and Fizer works for the Arecibo Capetans (Captains).
This would be good enough, but it was the way the Spanish-speaking announcer introduced Traylor that really got me. Mind you, the entire game was in Spanish. The only thing I could decipher was the score, and the names. Traylor was introduced as...
Numero cinco y tres....RRRRRRRRRobert "EL TRACTOR" TRRRRRAYLOR (remember to roll your R's, kids).
Hands down one of the funniest things I have ever heard.
"Tractor" (as his jersey read), to his credit, actually impressed me, and Fizer the same. Fizer is the size of a small SUV, and dominated the glass. The game was also similarly impressive, and the quality of play was not much less than a Final Four-caliber game here in the states. The SBL does have one thing that even great college venues in the states cannot even hold a candle to - noise. The decibels in that coliseum had be teetering on illegal. I can not even begin to express to you in words the amount of noise in there after every basket. And I mean EVERY basket. The score was 4-2 and you would have thought someone just one on a buzzer beater from 3/4 court to win the title. It was truly unbelievable. I don't know what makes the noise level any different from anything in the states, but the difference is definitely there. It might be a culture thing, and the passion that all foreigners have for sports. (i.e. soccer hooligans in England), or it might just be the acoustics of the venue. Whatever the reason, I have never been more afraid of noise in my life.
It all made for a great experience, and in a tight game, Tractor's Calebrajeros won to go up three games to two in the best of seven series.
Fun SBL Facts:
- The Crabbers won the best-of-seven series four games to three to win their sixth SBL title in nine years.
- El Tractor is actually in legal trouble back here in the states and will be returning soon to be sentenced, but not until he dropped 24 points and snagged 10 rebounds in the seventh game.
- Crabber guard, Ricardo Dalmau, who scored 15 points including a clutch 3-pointer in OT of game seven is actually a prominent CPA in the San Juan area. He plays SBL basketball as a hobby.
Overall, the game was a once in a lifetime experience that would be hard to duplicate. I am extremely saddened to say that the best time I ever had at a sporting event was outside of the continental United States. Maybe it was the noise. Maybe it was the passion. Maybe it was the fact that it was the finals. Maybe it was more intriguing because it was in a different language. More probably, it was Benny and Jay-Jay the mascots who were easily funnier than anything a mascot in the states has yet to show me. Maybe it was any one of these things. Maybe it was all of them. I guess I really don't have words for how exciting it was.
But I ask you, what are the chances that two former NBAer's and college standouts are playing in a Puerto Rican basketball league against each other in the finals, and I happen to be there to witness it?
Probably about the same that anyone in the states is aware of the SBL.
I'm aware, and I couldn't be happier about it.
And of all of those weeks the one I recently spent in Puerto Rico has to be up there with some of the best. Right behind the week following the Steeler's fifth Superbowl victory, and right behind the week I made my first communion. I mean, the former was bragging rights to all my Cincy friends - and anyone for that matter - and the latter contains the day that I, as a nine-year-old child made upwards of two grand.
This trip might not have given me any bragging rights over anyone other than the occasional jealous friend that only went to their grandparents house in Allentown, Pa, which is apparently somewhere outside of Philly - sounds like fun. And it certainly didn't make me two grand. But nonetheless it was a fantastic weekend.
I went with my parents and my two younger brothers for what might have been the last "family" vacation we all go on. If it was the last, it was certainly appropriate because it was also the best.
I spent the week laying by the pool, hiking in the rain forest, touring the largest rum distillery in the world (Bacardi, for those curious), and playing blackjack in the hotel casino.
Now, my first casino and blackjack experience was not as profitable as that glorious day 11 years ago when I made the easiest two grand of my life, but I made some money. Which, if you know me at all, pleases me beyond words.
Ya, Eric, that's cool and all, but I thought these posts were usually about sports.
You're right, and that brings me to the greatest part of my 7-day adventure onwhat I think has to be the greatest island in this hemisphere, at least. On Sunday evening, my family and I got the chance to attend the 5th game of the Superior Basketball League final series.
The what?
The Superior Basketball League, or SBL, is Puerto Rico's version of the NBA. (Coincidentally enough, superior is also the name of Bacardi's most famous rum). My mother went to high school in Puerto Rico, and still has friends in the area, and one of them was nice enough to get us tickets. I sat two seats from center court. Eight rows up. Not bad.
Going into this game, I didn't know what to expect, and I think that made it all the better.
Imagine my surprise when I realize that I know two players on the court (one from each team).
Here's two names from the depths of NBA rosters everywhere. Are you ready? First, we have my personal favorite and former Michigan stand-out, Robert "Tractor" Traylor. And taking the tip against him was Iowa State's Marcus Fizer.
Traylor played for the Santurce Calebrejeros (Crabbers) and Fizer works for the Arecibo Capetans (Captains).
This would be good enough, but it was the way the Spanish-speaking announcer introduced Traylor that really got me. Mind you, the entire game was in Spanish. The only thing I could decipher was the score, and the names. Traylor was introduced as...
Numero cinco y tres....RRRRRRRRRobert "EL TRACTOR" TRRRRRAYLOR (remember to roll your R's, kids).
Hands down one of the funniest things I have ever heard.
"Tractor" (as his jersey read), to his credit, actually impressed me, and Fizer the same. Fizer is the size of a small SUV, and dominated the glass. The game was also similarly impressive, and the quality of play was not much less than a Final Four-caliber game here in the states. The SBL does have one thing that even great college venues in the states cannot even hold a candle to - noise. The decibels in that coliseum had be teetering on illegal. I can not even begin to express to you in words the amount of noise in there after every basket. And I mean EVERY basket. The score was 4-2 and you would have thought someone just one on a buzzer beater from 3/4 court to win the title. It was truly unbelievable. I don't know what makes the noise level any different from anything in the states, but the difference is definitely there. It might be a culture thing, and the passion that all foreigners have for sports. (i.e. soccer hooligans in England), or it might just be the acoustics of the venue. Whatever the reason, I have never been more afraid of noise in my life.
It all made for a great experience, and in a tight game, Tractor's Calebrajeros won to go up three games to two in the best of seven series.
Fun SBL Facts:
- The Crabbers won the best-of-seven series four games to three to win their sixth SBL title in nine years.
- El Tractor is actually in legal trouble back here in the states and will be returning soon to be sentenced, but not until he dropped 24 points and snagged 10 rebounds in the seventh game.
- Crabber guard, Ricardo Dalmau, who scored 15 points including a clutch 3-pointer in OT of game seven is actually a prominent CPA in the San Juan area. He plays SBL basketball as a hobby.
Overall, the game was a once in a lifetime experience that would be hard to duplicate. I am extremely saddened to say that the best time I ever had at a sporting event was outside of the continental United States. Maybe it was the noise. Maybe it was the passion. Maybe it was the fact that it was the finals. Maybe it was more intriguing because it was in a different language. More probably, it was Benny and Jay-Jay the mascots who were easily funnier than anything a mascot in the states has yet to show me. Maybe it was any one of these things. Maybe it was all of them. I guess I really don't have words for how exciting it was.
But I ask you, what are the chances that two former NBAer's and college standouts are playing in a Puerto Rican basketball league against each other in the finals, and I happen to be there to witness it?
Probably about the same that anyone in the states is aware of the SBL.
I'm aware, and I couldn't be happier about it.
Sunday 15 July 2007
ESPY Running Diary
(Editor's note: This is heinously long. I wanted to try something new, so here it is. Let me know what you think.)
There’s something you should know about me.
I’m a sucker for award shows (and manicured toes).
My favorite award show? Although the Academy Awards are becoming increasingly more interesting as I get older, my favorite show is still the ESPY’s (Excellence in Sports Performance Yearly). Sports stars will always be more iconic and revered than movie stars or other celebrities in my eyes. Therefore, ESPY’s > Oscars. It’s quite simple really.
So today for the 2007 installment of my favorite award show I actually left my girlfriend’s house (she didn’t want to watch) and came straight home. I refuse to miss this.
9:00 – The night is not starting off well. Because the ESPY’s are taped in advanced (taped July 11 for the July 15 broadcast), ESPN is still in the process of showing Sunday night baseball. But there is a bright spot…it’s a barn burner. Phillies vs. Cardinals. Watch out. Michael Bourn just hit his first major league home run in his 93rd major league at bat. Wow. I’m glad I caught that.
9:03 – In a 10-1 game in which the cardinals are winning in the bottom of the ninth, the game should have ended about 2 minutes ago but the cardinals love to make errors to extend the game. Needless to say, I am not happy.
9:05 – ESPN just showed the 139,535th fan in the crowd with some crappy joke about the Phillies losing 10,000 games. The best: “I have not lost. I have found 10,000 ways that don’t work. – Thomas Edison.” Good, but not great. Stop putting these people on television unless their signs are clever, funny, or poignant. Thank you.
9:08 – Philly fans are actually applauding the fact that their team is about to lose their 10,000th game, but Chase Utley has other plans, with a game-extending RBI double to center. And to think, I actually liked him two days ago.
9:10 – Do you think Ryan Howard knows that the whole world is watching him waiting for the ESPYs? I do. Its been a full count for 3 minutes. Fittingly he strikes out badly. Thank you Mr. Howard. HERE WE GO.
9:11 – Samuel L. Jackson is the first to be shown in the crowd. I cant say im surprised. He is everywhere.
9:12 – Is it just me or does everyone get the chills when they show any kind of sports montage with an inspiring song in the background? Vertigo is not even my favorite song, not even close, but this montage is fantastic. I want to meet the ESPN editors. I want to be their friend. Bear with me I am enjoying this montage. I’ll be back I promise.
9:21 – Jimmy Kimmel appears following the greatest 9 minutes of my life. I cant even describe it. You will have to find a way to watch that. Youtube, or re-runs. Its that good. I love it.
9:22 – Who doesn’t love a Bengals and the law joke?
9:24 – Do the athletes have to laugh at these jokes? I want to see one athlete or celebrity just stare blankly into the camera - like I am on my couch - after one of these jokes. Kimmel went after Oden’s age. I didn’t see that one coming. How long will the Oden age joke stay with him? I say its either when he grows into that look (age 40), or someone produces his actual birth certificate.
9: 26 – LeBron arrives in his Sweet-Sixteen-style-man-drawn carriage, and tries real hard to be funny. He’s ok, but I think we’re in for more from him later.
9:28 – Breakthrough athlete award time. I’m pulling for the most exciting basketball player I have ever seen – Kevin Durant. Not to be. Stinkin’ Devon Hester wins the award and shows off that Miami University education at the podium. Actually, that’s not fair. He was quite articulate. Shy, but good. I apologize for that previous crack. Well played Mr. Hester.
9:35 – Kimmel is in the shower with Danica Patrick. Nothing else to add here…
9:36 – Is there anything cheesier than the prepared speeches for these presenters to read from the teleprompter? Why does it need to be like that? Just present the nominees and then the winner. No one is there to see you. Ok, maybe some are interesting in watching Carmen Electra up on stage, but she is struggling. Did she read this in advance? I bet no.
9:40 – And the ESPY for the largest under bite in the history of the world goes to… Michael Phelps. I think I have seen every movie up for the best sports movie award at least twice. My favorite: We Are Marshall, despite Matthew “no shirt” Mconahey. I’m not sure how Talladega Nights wins. How was it in this category? NASCAR is not a sport. It’s a great COMEDY, but as far as sports go, it’s about as sports related as Jimmy Fallon’s Fever Pitch.
9:46 – Apparently women wear Under Armor too, and they want us to know about it. Minute-long Under Armor commercials are painful, but don’t get me wrong I would rather watch slow-motion clips of the ladies in spandex than A.J. Hawk and Vernon Davis yelling Click-Clack at me four times over.
9:50 – Lebrontourage is an instant classic. If this isn’t ESPN’s next “Playmakers” I don’t know what is.
9:52 – There are three great nominees for Best Game. Colts and Pats in the AFC Champitonship, Boise St. and Oklahoma, and Texas and OK Sate. Gooooo KD. I’m pulling for Durant even though he lost that game. Although Boise State may or may not deserve it. That final play in the Fiesta Bowl makes me stutter every time I see it. Boise State wins and Johnson and Zabransky join their coach at the podium. Coach is the only one that speaks. Stern, but fair.
9:55 – Great story about N.C. State’s woman’s basketball coach and her bout with cancer. This is 67% of the reason that I love the ESPY’s – stories like these.
10:00 – If my TiVo changes the channel to another Law and Order. I might throw something through it. Hand’s down the most annoying thing in my life. Right up there with the crumbs at the bottom of cereal boxes.
10:04 – The same Under Armor commercial. We’re going to keep a count. That’s two.
10:12 – Ladanian Tomlinson wins the Best Record-Breaking performance ESPY for his touchdown barrage last season. I actually watched LT golf on TV today at Lake Tahoe, and I’m here to tell you, it’s a damn good thing he’s good at football. He gives Sir Charles a run for his money.
10:17 - Taryne Mowatt, Female Athlete of the year, wins the Who-Are-You Award of the night. She’s well on her way to being the next Jenny Finch and I haven’t even seen her play. But, I ask you, do I need to?
10:18 – Three.
10:23 – Arthur Asche award is presented by none other than Samuel L. Jackson. I love this award and the stories behind every winner each year. This one proves to be no different. This tale of Dave, Trevor and the divide that still exists in Northern Ireland shows why everyone loves sports. Sports are bigger than all of us and really are the world’s great unifier. This is the reason I watch this show.
10:41 – The MC Hammer-clad Lebron does his best drunk uncle at a wedding karaoke impersonation. The man can dance, but his singing could use some work. He’s basically yelling at the crowd. I don’t think this was supposed to be this funny.
10:48 – I don’t even care who wins the Best Play of the Year itwas just great to watch those plays again. Boise State wins their second award for the statue of liberty two-point conversion. Johnson and Zabransky speak this time. I’m not so sure they didn’t know they were coming back up before that first one...
10:49 – Shaq taunts Greg Oden: “I’m gonna see you real soon, brother.” Run and hide Greg. Run and hide.
10:50 – Best Moment of the Year is up next; this is the J-Mac category from last year and is yet another moving moment in this show. The Saints win for their emotional comeback in New Orleans. Fair, but every moment nominated is worthy. It’s almost unfair to pick just one. Why is it that offensive or defensive linemen never speak when a team wins an award? Brees and Bush speak, but no one else. Understandable, but odd. Is it because the position players feel that they have to or that the linemen feel like they shouldn’t?
11:00 – Sid Crosby wins NHL Player of the Year, which was probably the most obvious choice in any category all night.
11:06 – The Colts over take the Florida Gators Basketball team for the best team award. I don’t agree with this decision at all. Although I knew the colts won the second I saw Dallas Clark in the audience. There is no reason he would be there if his team did not win. Talk about a spoiler.
11:12 – Kimmel is in the shower with Mike Tyson. Nothing else to add…
11:12 – Gretzky and Mary J. Blidge? Really?
11:13 – Best Male Athlete Award nominee highlights are maybe the best of the night. It’s got to be Federer or Woods, right? If I were a betting man I wouldn’t bet on a winner for this category. I'm that unsure. This is tense. Mary J. botches Ladanion Tomlinson’s name as he wins the award. I think Tiger and Roger were deducted votes for not being in attendance.
11:16 - T.I. is everything I hate in the world of hip-hop as he introduces our musical entertainment tonight. I’m not sure who it is because I was too busy rolling my eyes and cursing when T.I. was speaking. But I’m thinking its Macy Gray amongst others. Oh wait. Common just showed up and threw the 34,323th shout out Shaq’s way. Are people that afraid of him that they feel the need to address him personally?
11:19 – The show is over, and I am tired. The backstage special following the show starts off with Stu Scott getting molested by Shaq, D-Wade and T.O. No seriously. That is my cue to get the heck up out of here.
The 2007 ESPY’s are in the books, and I can’t wait til next year.
Kimmel summed it up well: "LeBron was OK, but I was fantastic."
It was all fantastic, Mr. Kimmel.
There’s something you should know about me.
I’m a sucker for award shows (and manicured toes).
My favorite award show? Although the Academy Awards are becoming increasingly more interesting as I get older, my favorite show is still the ESPY’s (Excellence in Sports Performance Yearly). Sports stars will always be more iconic and revered than movie stars or other celebrities in my eyes. Therefore, ESPY’s > Oscars. It’s quite simple really.
So today for the 2007 installment of my favorite award show I actually left my girlfriend’s house (she didn’t want to watch) and came straight home. I refuse to miss this.
9:00 – The night is not starting off well. Because the ESPY’s are taped in advanced (taped July 11 for the July 15 broadcast), ESPN is still in the process of showing Sunday night baseball. But there is a bright spot…it’s a barn burner. Phillies vs. Cardinals. Watch out. Michael Bourn just hit his first major league home run in his 93rd major league at bat. Wow. I’m glad I caught that.
9:03 – In a 10-1 game in which the cardinals are winning in the bottom of the ninth, the game should have ended about 2 minutes ago but the cardinals love to make errors to extend the game. Needless to say, I am not happy.
9:05 – ESPN just showed the 139,535th fan in the crowd with some crappy joke about the Phillies losing 10,000 games. The best: “I have not lost. I have found 10,000 ways that don’t work. – Thomas Edison.” Good, but not great. Stop putting these people on television unless their signs are clever, funny, or poignant. Thank you.
9:08 – Philly fans are actually applauding the fact that their team is about to lose their 10,000th game, but Chase Utley has other plans, with a game-extending RBI double to center. And to think, I actually liked him two days ago.
9:10 – Do you think Ryan Howard knows that the whole world is watching him waiting for the ESPYs? I do. Its been a full count for 3 minutes. Fittingly he strikes out badly. Thank you Mr. Howard. HERE WE GO.
9:11 – Samuel L. Jackson is the first to be shown in the crowd. I cant say im surprised. He is everywhere.
9:12 – Is it just me or does everyone get the chills when they show any kind of sports montage with an inspiring song in the background? Vertigo is not even my favorite song, not even close, but this montage is fantastic. I want to meet the ESPN editors. I want to be their friend. Bear with me I am enjoying this montage. I’ll be back I promise.
9:21 – Jimmy Kimmel appears following the greatest 9 minutes of my life. I cant even describe it. You will have to find a way to watch that. Youtube, or re-runs. Its that good. I love it.
9:22 – Who doesn’t love a Bengals and the law joke?
9:24 – Do the athletes have to laugh at these jokes? I want to see one athlete or celebrity just stare blankly into the camera - like I am on my couch - after one of these jokes. Kimmel went after Oden’s age. I didn’t see that one coming. How long will the Oden age joke stay with him? I say its either when he grows into that look (age 40), or someone produces his actual birth certificate.
9: 26 – LeBron arrives in his Sweet-Sixteen-style-man-drawn carriage, and tries real hard to be funny. He’s ok, but I think we’re in for more from him later.
9:28 – Breakthrough athlete award time. I’m pulling for the most exciting basketball player I have ever seen – Kevin Durant. Not to be. Stinkin’ Devon Hester wins the award and shows off that Miami University education at the podium. Actually, that’s not fair. He was quite articulate. Shy, but good. I apologize for that previous crack. Well played Mr. Hester.
9:35 – Kimmel is in the shower with Danica Patrick. Nothing else to add here…
9:36 – Is there anything cheesier than the prepared speeches for these presenters to read from the teleprompter? Why does it need to be like that? Just present the nominees and then the winner. No one is there to see you. Ok, maybe some are interesting in watching Carmen Electra up on stage, but she is struggling. Did she read this in advance? I bet no.
9:40 – And the ESPY for the largest under bite in the history of the world goes to… Michael Phelps. I think I have seen every movie up for the best sports movie award at least twice. My favorite: We Are Marshall, despite Matthew “no shirt” Mconahey. I’m not sure how Talladega Nights wins. How was it in this category? NASCAR is not a sport. It’s a great COMEDY, but as far as sports go, it’s about as sports related as Jimmy Fallon’s Fever Pitch.
9:46 – Apparently women wear Under Armor too, and they want us to know about it. Minute-long Under Armor commercials are painful, but don’t get me wrong I would rather watch slow-motion clips of the ladies in spandex than A.J. Hawk and Vernon Davis yelling Click-Clack at me four times over.
9:50 – Lebrontourage is an instant classic. If this isn’t ESPN’s next “Playmakers” I don’t know what is.
9:52 – There are three great nominees for Best Game. Colts and Pats in the AFC Champitonship, Boise St. and Oklahoma, and Texas and OK Sate. Gooooo KD. I’m pulling for Durant even though he lost that game. Although Boise State may or may not deserve it. That final play in the Fiesta Bowl makes me stutter every time I see it. Boise State wins and Johnson and Zabransky join their coach at the podium. Coach is the only one that speaks. Stern, but fair.
9:55 – Great story about N.C. State’s woman’s basketball coach and her bout with cancer. This is 67% of the reason that I love the ESPY’s – stories like these.
10:00 – If my TiVo changes the channel to another Law and Order. I might throw something through it. Hand’s down the most annoying thing in my life. Right up there with the crumbs at the bottom of cereal boxes.
10:04 – The same Under Armor commercial. We’re going to keep a count. That’s two.
10:12 – Ladanian Tomlinson wins the Best Record-Breaking performance ESPY for his touchdown barrage last season. I actually watched LT golf on TV today at Lake Tahoe, and I’m here to tell you, it’s a damn good thing he’s good at football. He gives Sir Charles a run for his money.
10:17 - Taryne Mowatt, Female Athlete of the year, wins the Who-Are-You Award of the night. She’s well on her way to being the next Jenny Finch and I haven’t even seen her play. But, I ask you, do I need to?
10:18 – Three.
10:23 – Arthur Asche award is presented by none other than Samuel L. Jackson. I love this award and the stories behind every winner each year. This one proves to be no different. This tale of Dave, Trevor and the divide that still exists in Northern Ireland shows why everyone loves sports. Sports are bigger than all of us and really are the world’s great unifier. This is the reason I watch this show.
10:41 – The MC Hammer-clad Lebron does his best drunk uncle at a wedding karaoke impersonation. The man can dance, but his singing could use some work. He’s basically yelling at the crowd. I don’t think this was supposed to be this funny.
10:48 – I don’t even care who wins the Best Play of the Year itwas just great to watch those plays again. Boise State wins their second award for the statue of liberty two-point conversion. Johnson and Zabransky speak this time. I’m not so sure they didn’t know they were coming back up before that first one...
10:49 – Shaq taunts Greg Oden: “I’m gonna see you real soon, brother.” Run and hide Greg. Run and hide.
10:50 – Best Moment of the Year is up next; this is the J-Mac category from last year and is yet another moving moment in this show. The Saints win for their emotional comeback in New Orleans. Fair, but every moment nominated is worthy. It’s almost unfair to pick just one. Why is it that offensive or defensive linemen never speak when a team wins an award? Brees and Bush speak, but no one else. Understandable, but odd. Is it because the position players feel that they have to or that the linemen feel like they shouldn’t?
11:00 – Sid Crosby wins NHL Player of the Year, which was probably the most obvious choice in any category all night.
11:06 – The Colts over take the Florida Gators Basketball team for the best team award. I don’t agree with this decision at all. Although I knew the colts won the second I saw Dallas Clark in the audience. There is no reason he would be there if his team did not win. Talk about a spoiler.
11:12 – Kimmel is in the shower with Mike Tyson. Nothing else to add…
11:12 – Gretzky and Mary J. Blidge? Really?
11:13 – Best Male Athlete Award nominee highlights are maybe the best of the night. It’s got to be Federer or Woods, right? If I were a betting man I wouldn’t bet on a winner for this category. I'm that unsure. This is tense. Mary J. botches Ladanion Tomlinson’s name as he wins the award. I think Tiger and Roger were deducted votes for not being in attendance.
11:16 - T.I. is everything I hate in the world of hip-hop as he introduces our musical entertainment tonight. I’m not sure who it is because I was too busy rolling my eyes and cursing when T.I. was speaking. But I’m thinking its Macy Gray amongst others. Oh wait. Common just showed up and threw the 34,323th shout out Shaq’s way. Are people that afraid of him that they feel the need to address him personally?
11:19 – The show is over, and I am tired. The backstage special following the show starts off with Stu Scott getting molested by Shaq, D-Wade and T.O. No seriously. That is my cue to get the heck up out of here.
The 2007 ESPY’s are in the books, and I can’t wait til next year.
Kimmel summed it up well: "LeBron was OK, but I was fantastic."
It was all fantastic, Mr. Kimmel.
Tuesday 19 June 2007
These Guys are Good
I would have written more of these, but I just haven't had time. I'm working full-time, catching up with old friends, and golfing. Yes, golfing. I've played (rough estimate) at least 20 times since getting home about a month and a half ago. I'm up to at least two times a week, sometimes three. I am a born again golfer. I am now of the belief that every human is born with a love of golf and it just took me 20 years to discover mine. I have seen the light, and it is good.
I am by no means good at this game. Horrendous actually. After a month and a half all I have to show for it is a low round of 96 (+24), an increasingly emptier bank account, and a broken pitching wedge (long story--not worth it). Even still, I love this game, which is why Sunday June 17th was perhaps the greatest day of my life.
On father's day I was fortunate enough to attend one of the most interesting sporting spectacles the world has ever known, the final round of the United States Open. I actually stumbled into a grounds pass for this event. Through the company I am working for this summer, I had the chance to volunteer at a concessions tent for six hours in exchange for the rest of the day's worth of golf. I worked from 10am til 4pm. A long, hot time filled with wrapping cheeseburgers, stocking drinks, and pouring more Yingling and Coors Light than should be allowed by law. Despite all that, it was all worth it.
At 4:00 I ran out of the concessions tent and straight for the course. I caught up with the action when the final pair (Baddeley and Woods) was on the 5th hole. I made my way to the sixth green and watched Ames and Casey putt out while I waited for Tiger. The first time I saw Tiger Woods in person was left off of the sixth green in a sand bunker. Remember that sand wedge out of the bunker onto six? Ya. I was about 30 feet behind Tiger. The only people closer were the handful of Asian photographers (not sure why they were all Asian, but they were) and his caddie, Steve. Tiger hit a decent shot out of the deep bunker, and he made it look so easy. Although I make shooting my 96 look easy too, but that might just be because it is. You decide.
After that I went ahead of Tiger and watched a few groups play the long par-5 12th hole. I saw the eventual champ, Angel suck down a cigarette, Bubba Watson in his green visor rip a monstrous drive, and hometown boy, Jimmy Furyk as well. It was amazing seeing these guys in person, but it wasn't overly impressive. They are just normal guys playing golf, who happen to be ungodly good. It's unlike any other sport. They are so much more accessible, and yet they are still respected. There is a certain professional etiquette in golf that everyone present abides to, and it rarely gets abused, if at all. It is because of the accessibility that they seem oddly human. They wear the same clothes that we do when we golf. No uniforms. They get just as mad as we do when they mess up (only less often). They replace their divots and their ball marks. Their talent is above that of any weekend hack, but they are not above the game. Its oddly refreshing.
After my stint at 12, I spent some time at 15 and then scurried to the par-4 18th to get a good view of the green. I had a funny feeling it was gonna come down to a stroke. I got to 18 just in time to see Angel hit the longest, straightest drive I have ever seen. He made his par and got into the clubhouse at +5. Everyone knows what happened next. Furyk pooped his pants at 17 and again at 18 to finish second at the Open for the second year in a row, and Tiger, as was par for the course (pun intended), missed a 22-foot putt that would have forced a Monday playoff.
I have never seen the air go out of a place as quickly as did the excitement after Tiger botched that final putt. It would be like taking that damn Snoopy blimp that flew around all week and driving a Mac truck right through it. I have never seen that many people so quickly disappointed at the one time, and remember - I attend Pirate games.
In the mad dash toward the shuttles and ultimately home, I literally ran into ESPN's Tom Rinaldi. A good man. A great features reporter. And one weird looking dude in that camera make-up. I suspect he was looking for Tiger to interview, but he should have been looking for Angel Cabrera, because he was the best golfer for a week on one of the worlds hardest courses at the most elite of levels.
Overall it was a great day. I was within 30 feet of Tiger Woods at least four times, which is slightly obsessive and ridiculously immature, but I don't care, because he is just that good. I saw other great golfers do somethings with golf balls that I could never even dream of. Literally. I didn't know hitting the ball that far and that straight was possible. It was a long, sweaty day filled with work and an enjoyable round of golf, and even though I worked for 6 hours and stood for almost 5 more I was just grateful to be there (which is more than we can say for a whiny Mickelson who boo-hooed his way to blaming the USGA and the course set up for his wrist injury and missing the cut for the first time in 30 majors).
For me, it was all worth it. It may not have been the best day of my life, but it was certainly a once in a life time opportunity that I will remember for quite some time. My final memory of that day will be me trudging through the fairway rough (which is disgustingly high -- the television did it no justice) on 10 and down the fairway toward the shuttle with the sun at my back before hearing "Outside the ropes, sir" in the most irritated and violent voice I have ever heard. I thought to myself, "It's a golf course. psycho: it's meant to be walked on. Relax. The tournament's over, get a $6 Yingling."
After seeing that course, if I played it my low round of 96 would easily double to a 192 (+122).
But then again, that's why I spent my day watching normal guys hit shots and make plays I flat-out can't. Those PGA commercials don't lie: These Guys are Good.
My only regret: not seeing more.
I am by no means good at this game. Horrendous actually. After a month and a half all I have to show for it is a low round of 96 (+24), an increasingly emptier bank account, and a broken pitching wedge (long story--not worth it). Even still, I love this game, which is why Sunday June 17th was perhaps the greatest day of my life.
On father's day I was fortunate enough to attend one of the most interesting sporting spectacles the world has ever known, the final round of the United States Open. I actually stumbled into a grounds pass for this event. Through the company I am working for this summer, I had the chance to volunteer at a concessions tent for six hours in exchange for the rest of the day's worth of golf. I worked from 10am til 4pm. A long, hot time filled with wrapping cheeseburgers, stocking drinks, and pouring more Yingling and Coors Light than should be allowed by law. Despite all that, it was all worth it.
At 4:00 I ran out of the concessions tent and straight for the course. I caught up with the action when the final pair (Baddeley and Woods) was on the 5th hole. I made my way to the sixth green and watched Ames and Casey putt out while I waited for Tiger. The first time I saw Tiger Woods in person was left off of the sixth green in a sand bunker. Remember that sand wedge out of the bunker onto six? Ya. I was about 30 feet behind Tiger. The only people closer were the handful of Asian photographers (not sure why they were all Asian, but they were) and his caddie, Steve. Tiger hit a decent shot out of the deep bunker, and he made it look so easy. Although I make shooting my 96 look easy too, but that might just be because it is. You decide.
After that I went ahead of Tiger and watched a few groups play the long par-5 12th hole. I saw the eventual champ, Angel suck down a cigarette, Bubba Watson in his green visor rip a monstrous drive, and hometown boy, Jimmy Furyk as well. It was amazing seeing these guys in person, but it wasn't overly impressive. They are just normal guys playing golf, who happen to be ungodly good. It's unlike any other sport. They are so much more accessible, and yet they are still respected. There is a certain professional etiquette in golf that everyone present abides to, and it rarely gets abused, if at all. It is because of the accessibility that they seem oddly human. They wear the same clothes that we do when we golf. No uniforms. They get just as mad as we do when they mess up (only less often). They replace their divots and their ball marks. Their talent is above that of any weekend hack, but they are not above the game. Its oddly refreshing.
After my stint at 12, I spent some time at 15 and then scurried to the par-4 18th to get a good view of the green. I had a funny feeling it was gonna come down to a stroke. I got to 18 just in time to see Angel hit the longest, straightest drive I have ever seen. He made his par and got into the clubhouse at +5. Everyone knows what happened next. Furyk pooped his pants at 17 and again at 18 to finish second at the Open for the second year in a row, and Tiger, as was par for the course (pun intended), missed a 22-foot putt that would have forced a Monday playoff.
I have never seen the air go out of a place as quickly as did the excitement after Tiger botched that final putt. It would be like taking that damn Snoopy blimp that flew around all week and driving a Mac truck right through it. I have never seen that many people so quickly disappointed at the one time, and remember - I attend Pirate games.
In the mad dash toward the shuttles and ultimately home, I literally ran into ESPN's Tom Rinaldi. A good man. A great features reporter. And one weird looking dude in that camera make-up. I suspect he was looking for Tiger to interview, but he should have been looking for Angel Cabrera, because he was the best golfer for a week on one of the worlds hardest courses at the most elite of levels.
Overall it was a great day. I was within 30 feet of Tiger Woods at least four times, which is slightly obsessive and ridiculously immature, but I don't care, because he is just that good. I saw other great golfers do somethings with golf balls that I could never even dream of. Literally. I didn't know hitting the ball that far and that straight was possible. It was a long, sweaty day filled with work and an enjoyable round of golf, and even though I worked for 6 hours and stood for almost 5 more I was just grateful to be there (which is more than we can say for a whiny Mickelson who boo-hooed his way to blaming the USGA and the course set up for his wrist injury and missing the cut for the first time in 30 majors).
For me, it was all worth it. It may not have been the best day of my life, but it was certainly a once in a life time opportunity that I will remember for quite some time. My final memory of that day will be me trudging through the fairway rough (which is disgustingly high -- the television did it no justice) on 10 and down the fairway toward the shuttle with the sun at my back before hearing "Outside the ropes, sir" in the most irritated and violent voice I have ever heard. I thought to myself, "It's a golf course. psycho: it's meant to be walked on. Relax. The tournament's over, get a $6 Yingling."
After seeing that course, if I played it my low round of 96 would easily double to a 192 (+122).
But then again, that's why I spent my day watching normal guys hit shots and make plays I flat-out can't. Those PGA commercials don't lie: These Guys are Good.
My only regret: not seeing more.
Friday 13 April 2007
Age Really is Just a Number
In my double-decade long life, I have never, and for good reason, felt old. But when I went home over Easter this year, I felt old.
There are many things that contributed to my feelings of old age at 20. You know you are getting old when shows you grew up watching in television's prime time are now on Nickelodeon's Nick at Night. Thank you Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and Full House. You also know you are getting old when popular cartoon series of your day are being re-created in a new digital format for a quick buck. Thank you for ruining the legend that is the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
I also knew I was old by the things in my bedroom. Now, let's keep in mind that I am only two years removed from occupying this room full-time, but nonetheless, it is a time capsule. My walls are adorned with posters from every corner of the sports world. I have a Book-Store-bought pre-steroid Barry Bonds poster in which he is (realistically) a third of the size of his current self. I still look at that poster wishing I could kick my younger self's ass for ever putting that on my wall. I have Allen Iverson and Bret Favre SI for Kids rip-out posters, along with a Sabre-sweatered Dominick Hasek. Three stars that are well past their primes, but still continue to produce. A Kordell Stewart card hangs in a frame above my bed. A buzz-cut David Beckham on my wall displays my previous ignorance towards the game of soccer. The words "Heisman Hopeful" accompany a picture of former Pitt Panther and current Arizona Cardinal, Larry Fitzgerald above my bed as well. I idolized these athletes. As I get older, can I still worship these talented people?
Granted, these posters aren't any older than five years. But it just goes to show how quickly the sports landscape has changed in just a short period of time. When I was younger, it was normal to worship these athletes, because they were all older than me and had extraordinary talents. It is socially acceptable to look up to those that are older than you. Now that I am 20 years-old, I have begin to question the level at which I can celebrate these athletes, especially when these athletes are younger than I am.
Athletes are becoming stars at increasingly younger ages. Ask Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, Jordan Staal, Kevin Durant, Greg Oden, Michael Phelps, Amobi Okoye and Morgan Pressel. Just to name a few. At the age of 21, or younger all of those aforementioned athletes are contributing to their team's success or dominating their chosen sport. I find myself unable to worship these athletes like I worshipped athletes years ago, not because they are less talented, because they are certainly not lacking talent, but simply because they are my age, or younger.
Sidney Crosby was not just the first overall draft pick of two years ago, but also recently became the NHL's youngest Art Ross Trophy winner in the history of the NHL for most points scored during the regular season. Oh by the way, he's 19. His teammates include the NHL's shoe in for rookie of the year in 21 year-old Evgeni Malkin, and the youngest player in the NHL and league-leader in short handed goals with seven, 18 year-old Jordan Staal. These three youngsters have not only had great individual seasons, but also have their Pittsburgh Penguins in the playoffs for the first time in six years.
Much has been said regarding two of the greatest players college basketball in quite some time. Greg Oden and Kevin Durant are both 18, or recently turned 19, and college freshman. I was a college freshman last year, and for these kids to be accomplishing what they are is insane. Kevin Durant only swept every national player of the year award including the Wooden and the Naismith. He led his team to the finals of the Big 12 championship and to the second round of the NCAA tournament. He was the only player to finish in the top 10 in scoring and rebounding. He was second in the nation in double-doubles. He was Big 12 Freshman of the Year, Big 12 Player of the Year, and was named to the Big 12's All-Defensive Team. That's a lot. My fingers hurt...(insert Happy Gilmore quote here)...lets just say he's good.
Durant may be good, but he might not even be the first pick in the upcoming NBA draft. Seven-foot Ohio State center Greg Oden may receive that honor. Physically, Oden is an anomaly for his age, and so is that beard, but there is no mistaking his obvious talents. He played a large part in OSU's Big Ten Regular Season Championship as well as their Big Ten Tournament Championship. He also played a crucial role, to say the least, in the Buckeye's run to the final game of the NCAA tournament. Oden scored 25 points in that finals loss to Florida which is about 15 more points then I have ever scored in any basketball game in which I played.
At 21, Michael Phelps has participated in the Olympics, and recently dominated the World Championships winning seven gold medals (missing eight only because of a disqualification). Not only did he butterfly, backstroke and freestyle past his competition, he also broke several world records on his way to a record-tying seven gold medals. (Mark Spitz anyone?) Phelps is hands down the best swimmer in the world, and he still can't rent a car.
Amobi Okoye (I can spell it, but don't ask me to say it.) is a 19 year-old college graduate. Impressive in its own right, but did I mention that he is also a virtual lock as a first round draft pick in this year's NFL draft? This over-powering defensive lineman, who can apparently take snaps at either the nose or on the end, finished seventh grade by the age of ten. If he starts in an NFL game this coming season he will easily be the youngest player to ever play in the NFL. He will be good for the NFL's recent image problems for two reasons: 1) He's a smart, articulate young man who wants to be a role model and 2) He can't legally get into the night clubs and bars that are the site of so many legal issues for athletes.
Proving that young males are not the only young athletes proving their talents, Morgan Pressel became the youngest woman in LPGA history to win a major. This is Pressel's first year on the tour and she has made five career starts. Of those starts she finished in the top ten three times, including her major championship at the Kraft Nabisco Championship. I think someone needs to get her and Sid together only because someone needs to make a child capable of taking down Nomar and Mia's offspring.
These kids (and thats what they mostly are) are just as gifted as their adult competition, if not more. Realizing that at my age, these kids are accomplishing all that is listed above is outrageous. I am really in awe of their talent, but I find it incredible hard to worship these athletes as I once celebrated larger than life athletes. Maybe its because I'm older, and more mature and I realize that sports are not all that there is to life (although they may be). But then again maybe I can't celebrate these kids because they aren't old enough.
Sorry Sid, Jordan, Evgeni, Greg, Kev, Amobi, Mike, and Morgan, as much as I think you kids are incredible, my walls are full. Five years earlier and you might have immortalized yourself on my own walls of fame.
There are many things that contributed to my feelings of old age at 20. You know you are getting old when shows you grew up watching in television's prime time are now on Nickelodeon's Nick at Night. Thank you Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and Full House. You also know you are getting old when popular cartoon series of your day are being re-created in a new digital format for a quick buck. Thank you for ruining the legend that is the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
I also knew I was old by the things in my bedroom. Now, let's keep in mind that I am only two years removed from occupying this room full-time, but nonetheless, it is a time capsule. My walls are adorned with posters from every corner of the sports world. I have a Book-Store-bought pre-steroid Barry Bonds poster in which he is (realistically) a third of the size of his current self. I still look at that poster wishing I could kick my younger self's ass for ever putting that on my wall. I have Allen Iverson and Bret Favre SI for Kids rip-out posters, along with a Sabre-sweatered Dominick Hasek. Three stars that are well past their primes, but still continue to produce. A Kordell Stewart card hangs in a frame above my bed. A buzz-cut David Beckham on my wall displays my previous ignorance towards the game of soccer. The words "Heisman Hopeful" accompany a picture of former Pitt Panther and current Arizona Cardinal, Larry Fitzgerald above my bed as well. I idolized these athletes. As I get older, can I still worship these talented people?
Granted, these posters aren't any older than five years. But it just goes to show how quickly the sports landscape has changed in just a short period of time. When I was younger, it was normal to worship these athletes, because they were all older than me and had extraordinary talents. It is socially acceptable to look up to those that are older than you. Now that I am 20 years-old, I have begin to question the level at which I can celebrate these athletes, especially when these athletes are younger than I am.
Athletes are becoming stars at increasingly younger ages. Ask Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, Jordan Staal, Kevin Durant, Greg Oden, Michael Phelps, Amobi Okoye and Morgan Pressel. Just to name a few. At the age of 21, or younger all of those aforementioned athletes are contributing to their team's success or dominating their chosen sport. I find myself unable to worship these athletes like I worshipped athletes years ago, not because they are less talented, because they are certainly not lacking talent, but simply because they are my age, or younger.
Sidney Crosby was not just the first overall draft pick of two years ago, but also recently became the NHL's youngest Art Ross Trophy winner in the history of the NHL for most points scored during the regular season. Oh by the way, he's 19. His teammates include the NHL's shoe in for rookie of the year in 21 year-old Evgeni Malkin, and the youngest player in the NHL and league-leader in short handed goals with seven, 18 year-old Jordan Staal. These three youngsters have not only had great individual seasons, but also have their Pittsburgh Penguins in the playoffs for the first time in six years.
Much has been said regarding two of the greatest players college basketball in quite some time. Greg Oden and Kevin Durant are both 18, or recently turned 19, and college freshman. I was a college freshman last year, and for these kids to be accomplishing what they are is insane. Kevin Durant only swept every national player of the year award including the Wooden and the Naismith. He led his team to the finals of the Big 12 championship and to the second round of the NCAA tournament. He was the only player to finish in the top 10 in scoring and rebounding. He was second in the nation in double-doubles. He was Big 12 Freshman of the Year, Big 12 Player of the Year, and was named to the Big 12's All-Defensive Team. That's a lot. My fingers hurt...(insert Happy Gilmore quote here)...lets just say he's good.
Durant may be good, but he might not even be the first pick in the upcoming NBA draft. Seven-foot Ohio State center Greg Oden may receive that honor. Physically, Oden is an anomaly for his age, and so is that beard, but there is no mistaking his obvious talents. He played a large part in OSU's Big Ten Regular Season Championship as well as their Big Ten Tournament Championship. He also played a crucial role, to say the least, in the Buckeye's run to the final game of the NCAA tournament. Oden scored 25 points in that finals loss to Florida which is about 15 more points then I have ever scored in any basketball game in which I played.
At 21, Michael Phelps has participated in the Olympics, and recently dominated the World Championships winning seven gold medals (missing eight only because of a disqualification). Not only did he butterfly, backstroke and freestyle past his competition, he also broke several world records on his way to a record-tying seven gold medals. (Mark Spitz anyone?) Phelps is hands down the best swimmer in the world, and he still can't rent a car.
Amobi Okoye (I can spell it, but don't ask me to say it.) is a 19 year-old college graduate. Impressive in its own right, but did I mention that he is also a virtual lock as a first round draft pick in this year's NFL draft? This over-powering defensive lineman, who can apparently take snaps at either the nose or on the end, finished seventh grade by the age of ten. If he starts in an NFL game this coming season he will easily be the youngest player to ever play in the NFL. He will be good for the NFL's recent image problems for two reasons: 1) He's a smart, articulate young man who wants to be a role model and 2) He can't legally get into the night clubs and bars that are the site of so many legal issues for athletes.
Proving that young males are not the only young athletes proving their talents, Morgan Pressel became the youngest woman in LPGA history to win a major. This is Pressel's first year on the tour and she has made five career starts. Of those starts she finished in the top ten three times, including her major championship at the Kraft Nabisco Championship. I think someone needs to get her and Sid together only because someone needs to make a child capable of taking down Nomar and Mia's offspring.
These kids (and thats what they mostly are) are just as gifted as their adult competition, if not more. Realizing that at my age, these kids are accomplishing all that is listed above is outrageous. I am really in awe of their talent, but I find it incredible hard to worship these athletes as I once celebrated larger than life athletes. Maybe its because I'm older, and more mature and I realize that sports are not all that there is to life (although they may be). But then again maybe I can't celebrate these kids because they aren't old enough.
Sorry Sid, Jordan, Evgeni, Greg, Kev, Amobi, Mike, and Morgan, as much as I think you kids are incredible, my walls are full. Five years earlier and you might have immortalized yourself on my own walls of fame.
Wednesday 21 February 2007
What the Puck?
NASCAR is on ESPN2.
The NHL is on Versus.
(Stop. Re-read. Proceed...)
For those belonging to the 85% of the earth's population that doesn't know what Versus is, it is the cable network formerly known as Outdoor Life Network (OLN). OLN was bad. Except for the few weeks out of the year that they showed Lance pedalling himself into the hearts of Americans everywhere in the Tour de France. If OLN is bad, then I currently don't know an adjective strong enough to describe the Versus Network. Versus? Are they serious?
(The word "versus" only works in box scores when abbreviated "vs.". Outside of that, I abhor that word. Especially when its used as a gerund (an "ing" word). As in..."our team is versing that terrible team from Boise." WHAT?!? That's horrendous on so many levels.)
Versus is the hockey equivalent to the NFL Network, minus Rod Woodson, of course. Versus, like the NFL Network, is not available to even basic cable subscribers. I, for one, do not get Versus. Which, overall, is a good thing. Other than the fact that it is the only national channel that televises NHL games. As it stands, I am limited to web broadcasts of only about two handfuls of national games, and the Columbus Blue Jackets through regional Fox Sports Net coverage. And don't get me wrong, the Jackets are the best third-to-worst team the NHL has to offer, but I miss my Penguins, and the rest of the NHL.
The NHL needs to try and get a larger deal with NBC, who currently carries a few games on weekends now that the NFL is through, and/or a deal with ESPN or ESPN2. I need more of the sultry sounds of Gary Thorne and Bill Clement. I need more hockey. The United States needs more hockey.
Right now hockey is hardly even a mention in national sports programming. ESPN still employs Canada's own Barry Melrose. He and his mullet are on SportsCenter every once in awhile with a segment entitled "Barry's Best". An enjoyable segment, but entirely too short. Something needs to be done. I need more hockey. I need more mullet.
Stephen Colbert has done his part to bring back hockey. Stephen keeps tabs on the Saginaw Spirit of the Ontario Junior Hockey League and even their mascot, Stephen Colbeagle Eagle, bears his name and likeness. I understand that this obsession with the Spirit, like anything else with Stephen, is underwritten with an obscene amount of sarcasm, but nonetheless, it is positive exposure for hockey in this country.
The point is that Gary Bettman and the NHL need to work harder to get a deal with a network that has more national exposure than Versus. Hockey has expanded in the last decade with the addition of teams like the Predators, Wild and Blue Jackets. It is good that other cities around the country are being exposed to these new teams and enjoying their success. (Well, minus Columbus.) More cities are getting home teams, but less homes are seeing these teams.
Get the NHL on a national network that most homes have. NBC works. ESPN would do the trick. And if ESPN2 viewers get tired of grown men making left turns in fast cars then maybe the network can slide in some hockey.
The NHL is on Versus.
(Stop. Re-read. Proceed...)
For those belonging to the 85% of the earth's population that doesn't know what Versus is, it is the cable network formerly known as Outdoor Life Network (OLN). OLN was bad. Except for the few weeks out of the year that they showed Lance pedalling himself into the hearts of Americans everywhere in the Tour de France. If OLN is bad, then I currently don't know an adjective strong enough to describe the Versus Network. Versus? Are they serious?
(The word "versus" only works in box scores when abbreviated "vs.". Outside of that, I abhor that word. Especially when its used as a gerund (an "ing" word). As in..."our team is versing that terrible team from Boise." WHAT?!? That's horrendous on so many levels.)
Versus is the hockey equivalent to the NFL Network, minus Rod Woodson, of course. Versus, like the NFL Network, is not available to even basic cable subscribers. I, for one, do not get Versus. Which, overall, is a good thing. Other than the fact that it is the only national channel that televises NHL games. As it stands, I am limited to web broadcasts of only about two handfuls of national games, and the Columbus Blue Jackets through regional Fox Sports Net coverage. And don't get me wrong, the Jackets are the best third-to-worst team the NHL has to offer, but I miss my Penguins, and the rest of the NHL.
The NHL needs to try and get a larger deal with NBC, who currently carries a few games on weekends now that the NFL is through, and/or a deal with ESPN or ESPN2. I need more of the sultry sounds of Gary Thorne and Bill Clement. I need more hockey. The United States needs more hockey.
Right now hockey is hardly even a mention in national sports programming. ESPN still employs Canada's own Barry Melrose. He and his mullet are on SportsCenter every once in awhile with a segment entitled "Barry's Best". An enjoyable segment, but entirely too short. Something needs to be done. I need more hockey. I need more mullet.
Stephen Colbert has done his part to bring back hockey. Stephen keeps tabs on the Saginaw Spirit of the Ontario Junior Hockey League and even their mascot, Stephen Colbeagle Eagle, bears his name and likeness. I understand that this obsession with the Spirit, like anything else with Stephen, is underwritten with an obscene amount of sarcasm, but nonetheless, it is positive exposure for hockey in this country.
The point is that Gary Bettman and the NHL need to work harder to get a deal with a network that has more national exposure than Versus. Hockey has expanded in the last decade with the addition of teams like the Predators, Wild and Blue Jackets. It is good that other cities around the country are being exposed to these new teams and enjoying their success. (Well, minus Columbus.) More cities are getting home teams, but less homes are seeing these teams.
Get the NHL on a national network that most homes have. NBC works. ESPN would do the trick. And if ESPN2 viewers get tired of grown men making left turns in fast cars then maybe the network can slide in some hockey.
Friday 12 January 2007
Mr. Posh Spice
Now let's understand something. I am not, in any way, opposed to the arrival of Victoria Adams (the artist formerly known as Posh Spice) into the United States. It's her husband that I have a slight issue with.
Actually, I am not quite sure what to make of David Beckham and his transition to the worst that professional soccer has to offer. Between the Los Angeles Galaxy and endorsements, Beckham stands to make $250 million over 5 years. In other words, Beckham will make just a little less than $1 million dollars a week - even in the off season. There are two lingering questions: Is Mr. Beckham worth that obscene amount of money and will he really help jump start a league that was doomed from the start?
We'll start with the second question. This stunt, which is precisely what it is, has actually happened before with eerie similarities in the United States. The North American Soccer League (NASL) was struggling to gain a fan base in the United States in the early '70s. As a result, the New York Cosmos signed the Brazilian sensation and arguably the greatest soccer player ever, Pele'. Pele' signed in 1975 and retired two years later after a game in a sold out Giants' Stadium. Clearly at the time he was signed he was well past his prime, but he was still the best player in the league on one of the best teams. History lesson over.
Back to the now. The Beckham Signing will be a good thing for the L.A. Galaxy, Victoria and David, their three sons (Brooklyn, Romeo and Cruz - I know. I thought the same thing.), but what about the MLS? I think that history will repeat itself. Just as Pele' sold out stadiums in New York for two seasons, Beckham will do much of the same. But, can one player, on one team make a difference?
I don't think so. Yes, L.A. will sell out most games, and when they are on the road ticket sales will spike for the other teams as well. Beckham's celebrity status will, no doubt, fill the seats. Beckham will be the most celebrated immigrant since Elian Gonzalez. The only problem is that he might not be as helpful in filling the net. Beckham was (past tense, kids) the best soccer player in the world. He did not even start for his Real Madrid Club back in Europe, and he was recently relieved of his captain duties for the English National Team.
Don't get me wrong. Beckham is still an exceptional talent (although lazy at times), and has the deadliest right foot the world, and especially the U.S. has ever seen. The point is that he is good. That can't be argued. But he isn't the same player he used to be, and he is certainly not Pele'. If Pele' couldn't ultimately bring soccer to the U.S., then how can we expect Beckham to? No matter how good or bad he is, he will never bring soccer to the American public at large. Why? Because soccer is un-american. It really is that simple.
The American public will never embrace soccer because they are stubborn. There is not enough scoring and it is not entertaining enough for us. We like the colors red, white and blue. We like fast cars. We like the Superbowl. We like hot dogs and baseball. We like eagles. We like Steven Colbert. We like everything that is "American". But more than anything else, we like ourselves and our ability to think the way we want. America will never embrace soccer, because, above all else, we do not want to fit in with the rest of the world. We love our individualism and our isolation. It's sad, but true.
The only way that soccer stands a chance, and where Beckham may help, is in the media. Although it is not off to a good start. The story was all over the sports news this morning. I saw three different interviews with Mr. Beckham. (As a side note, Jason A. Lyon, my roommate, commented that Beckham sounded exactly like the Geico Gecko. Next time you see or hear an interview please close your eyes and imagine the voice saying "It's pie, and chips. For free.") In all of these interviews, and during all of this coverage, not once did anyone mention the fact that the MLS SuperDraft was being held today. That is exactly why I think Beckham will never help the league. Beckham is the story, and will continue to be; the league is not even an after thought. It's a no-thought.
But this is where we address the first question: Is he worth the money? The short answer: No. The only way the Galaxy and the endorsers will profit from this investment will be if the MLS gets a television contract. It's possible now more than before with Beckham, but an American media will be hesitant to do so because the public won't embrace soccer and tune in. The tricky part: the public won't embrace soccer unless they see it on TV, and probably not even then.
So, awesome. Beckham is playing in America. His reasons are clear. He wants to bring soccer, the sport he loves, to the last country that wants it brought to them. I'd rather watch Beckham than any of the no names currently playing the MLS, that is for sure. But more importantly I would much rather see Posh all over the tabloid news than the trashy trio of Brit, Paris and Lindsey.
I don't want David, but I definitely want Posh. That's what I want, what I really really want.
Actually, I am not quite sure what to make of David Beckham and his transition to the worst that professional soccer has to offer. Between the Los Angeles Galaxy and endorsements, Beckham stands to make $250 million over 5 years. In other words, Beckham will make just a little less than $1 million dollars a week - even in the off season. There are two lingering questions: Is Mr. Beckham worth that obscene amount of money and will he really help jump start a league that was doomed from the start?
We'll start with the second question. This stunt, which is precisely what it is, has actually happened before with eerie similarities in the United States. The North American Soccer League (NASL) was struggling to gain a fan base in the United States in the early '70s. As a result, the New York Cosmos signed the Brazilian sensation and arguably the greatest soccer player ever, Pele'. Pele' signed in 1975 and retired two years later after a game in a sold out Giants' Stadium. Clearly at the time he was signed he was well past his prime, but he was still the best player in the league on one of the best teams. History lesson over.
Back to the now. The Beckham Signing will be a good thing for the L.A. Galaxy, Victoria and David, their three sons (Brooklyn, Romeo and Cruz - I know. I thought the same thing.), but what about the MLS? I think that history will repeat itself. Just as Pele' sold out stadiums in New York for two seasons, Beckham will do much of the same. But, can one player, on one team make a difference?
I don't think so. Yes, L.A. will sell out most games, and when they are on the road ticket sales will spike for the other teams as well. Beckham's celebrity status will, no doubt, fill the seats. Beckham will be the most celebrated immigrant since Elian Gonzalez. The only problem is that he might not be as helpful in filling the net. Beckham was (past tense, kids) the best soccer player in the world. He did not even start for his Real Madrid Club back in Europe, and he was recently relieved of his captain duties for the English National Team.
Don't get me wrong. Beckham is still an exceptional talent (although lazy at times), and has the deadliest right foot the world, and especially the U.S. has ever seen. The point is that he is good. That can't be argued. But he isn't the same player he used to be, and he is certainly not Pele'. If Pele' couldn't ultimately bring soccer to the U.S., then how can we expect Beckham to? No matter how good or bad he is, he will never bring soccer to the American public at large. Why? Because soccer is un-american. It really is that simple.
The American public will never embrace soccer because they are stubborn. There is not enough scoring and it is not entertaining enough for us. We like the colors red, white and blue. We like fast cars. We like the Superbowl. We like hot dogs and baseball. We like eagles. We like Steven Colbert. We like everything that is "American". But more than anything else, we like ourselves and our ability to think the way we want. America will never embrace soccer, because, above all else, we do not want to fit in with the rest of the world. We love our individualism and our isolation. It's sad, but true.
The only way that soccer stands a chance, and where Beckham may help, is in the media. Although it is not off to a good start. The story was all over the sports news this morning. I saw three different interviews with Mr. Beckham. (As a side note, Jason A. Lyon, my roommate, commented that Beckham sounded exactly like the Geico Gecko. Next time you see or hear an interview please close your eyes and imagine the voice saying "It's pie, and chips. For free.") In all of these interviews, and during all of this coverage, not once did anyone mention the fact that the MLS SuperDraft was being held today. That is exactly why I think Beckham will never help the league. Beckham is the story, and will continue to be; the league is not even an after thought. It's a no-thought.
But this is where we address the first question: Is he worth the money? The short answer: No. The only way the Galaxy and the endorsers will profit from this investment will be if the MLS gets a television contract. It's possible now more than before with Beckham, but an American media will be hesitant to do so because the public won't embrace soccer and tune in. The tricky part: the public won't embrace soccer unless they see it on TV, and probably not even then.
So, awesome. Beckham is playing in America. His reasons are clear. He wants to bring soccer, the sport he loves, to the last country that wants it brought to them. I'd rather watch Beckham than any of the no names currently playing the MLS, that is for sure. But more importantly I would much rather see Posh all over the tabloid news than the trashy trio of Brit, Paris and Lindsey.
I don't want David, but I definitely want Posh. That's what I want, what I really really want.
Tuesday 9 January 2007
O-H...OH-NO
The word upset can be quite decieving.
Last night, THE University of Flordia upset Ohio State University by the embarrassing score of 41-14. I can tell you the members of GatorNation were not upset. So who was upset? I wasn't. Most of the nation wasn't. Only the poor souls from the great state of Ohio who cherish their Buckeyes were upset. And why wouldn't they be?
This is not intended to be an Ohio State fan bashing (although at times i can't contain myself), but rather its intention is aimed more for the praise of the Flordia Gators and a wag of the finger (Colbert-style) to the sports media.
I had the pleasure (I use this word loosely) of watching this game with a few friends of mine who happen to be of the Ohio State persuasion. I, being from Pennsylvania, could not care less. I, like most other non-Gator or non-Buckeye fans was just looking to watch a good game. It wasn't until about the first 16 seconds and a Ted Ginn, Jr. touchdown that I decided that I wanted the Gators to win. Only because I enjoy the underdog. Who doesn't?
At about the same time Tim Tebow scored to make the score 41-14 in favor of the Gators, one of the female Buckeye fans that I was in the same room with as the game was unfolding commented; "This isn't supposed to happen."
Why not? Why is this not supposed to happen? This completely dumbfounded me. As a side note, the same girl was one of the girls' that tried to convince me that I should be a Buckeye fan because I go to school at the University of Dayton. WHAT?!?
Then it hit me. It wasn't her fault. This wasn't a dumb statement. It was a statement of fact, as far as the sports world was concerned. Yes, we all know that in sports anything can happen, but the media would want you to believe that only one outcome is possible. Conventional wisdom said that the final score was about right, but the teams should have been reversed. Everyone and their mother had OSU to win by 30. In fact, on a local pregame show, an ignorant Buckeye fan - on television - predicted the score to be 112-5 in Ohio State's favor. I kid you not. Yes, a fan should think his or her team will win the game, but come on. That is absurd. What made her think that a team could score 112 points and still give up a safety? Use your head.
The OSU faithful believed it would be a blowout, and it was, but not how they wanted it to be. The media crowned OSU as the best team in the land. For good reason I might add. They had won all their games including two #1 - #2 matchups over Texas on the road, and Michigan in the Shoe. Impressive. I'll be the first to admit, but there is something to be said about letting it get to their heads. The media wanted OSU to win. It was a lock. With Heisman Trophy winner Troy Smith and the likes of Ted Ginn, Jr and a stiffling OSU defense how could they lose? The answer: Easily.
Congrats to Urban Meyer and the Flordia Gators. They wanted it more. They sat back for the past month and listened to everyone explain to the world how there was no way the Gators even stood a chance against the Buckeyes, and they used that as motivation. Troy Smith (Heisman winner) was held to 35 yards of offense. He was sacked more times (5) than the number of completed passes he threw (4). The Buckeyes, as a team, were held to a BCS-Bowl-low 85 yards of total offense. No one in the media predicted that (not even Herbie). All the experts kept commenting on the Flordia and SEC speed they possess on defense, but did they mention that the Gators wanted it so bad that D-linemen were willing to go Jermey Shockey on everyone and make a sack without a helmet? No.
The point is that nothing is supposed to happen in sports. Things can happen. Things can be more likely to happen than others, but there is no way that anyone - especially the media - should talk as if something is SUPPOSED to happen.
As a good man at ESPN says often "That's why they play the games."
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