The Colts must win it all and they must win it all now.

First appeared on December 23rd, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

All this talk about 16 and 0 has more heads spinning than the County Fair Tilt-a-Whirl. Go for it or don’t. It means everything or it means nothing. What will they do? Is Jim Caldwell really willing to sacrifice a 14-0 start?
With all this undefeated noise clogging our airways it would once again seem we are unable to see the forest for the trees. Forget staying undefeated in the regular season, it is the looming playoff run that will ultimately define the year as well as likely determine the fate of the Colts franchise. What are they? Are they truly champions? Perhaps they are merely just a team built to dominate the regular season. Are they truly the best or are they simply the ones who wanted it more when the games meant less?
Sure they have won the AFC South (like every year since the NFL created it). But what does that really get you? We also know how the NFL regular season works. Some teams get everybody’s best shot. Defending champions (Pittsburgh), the media darlings (Dallas), public enemy #1 (New England) and then there are those who fly beneath the radar gobbling up wins like a champion Hungry-Hungry-Hippo player. A small market traveling medicine show piloted by arguably the greatest football mind ever to lace them up. Is this an accurate description of the Indianapolis Colts or are they truly the best?
A Super Bowl trophy is the only thing that can prove once and for all that the Colts are the class franchise of the NFL. Without it they are all merely deckhands on the S.S. Manning charting a path towards the land where the Buffalo Bills roam. As great as this season has been and as amazing as Manning has played, history won’t remember 16-0 without a championship (see the Patriots). History is far kinder to champions. That’s why Emmitt Smith is doing Just For Men Hair Gel commercials and Thurman Thomas is, well we don’t really know what Thurman Thomas is doing now do we?
The point is the Colts have come too far not to finish this thing. Would anyone really care about Christopher Columbus had he almost made the Caribbean only to turn back home because he forgot to DVR “Desperate Housewives”? Not securing a Lombardi Trophy this season would be like the Allies successfully invading Normandy only to go on and lose to the Axis powers. We’re talking about history now and history is bigger than any sprained toe or sore knee. History is forever.
The answer is simple. The Colts need to play their last 5 games like they are the last games they will ever play. They need to play like caged lions turned loose in a Turkey pen on Thanksgiving morning. They need to play like they are foot soldiers marching to the sea with General Sherman. They need to play like they are all stunt doubles acting in the last five minutes of any Bruce Willis movie ever made (except Blind Date of course). They need to play with the reckless abandon Olive Oyl would show in a steel cage death match with a female East German Olympic athlete sporting thighs the size of an elephant’s neck. Well, you get the idea.
The time is now. The accomplishments of this season to date mean little. The gaudy statistics are nice, but without the luster of a championship trophy records tend to tarnish with age. Everything that matters lies on the horizon; the question is whether the Colts will make it that far or not.

Tales from Jim O'Brien's Christmas Stocking

First appeared on December 16th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

As Colts coach Jim Caldwell struggles with how best to play out his schedule, he has not been at a loss for advice. To the surprise of nobody, Peyton Manning and Dwight Freeney both say they want to play but will accept Caldwell’s decision. Most understand the pressures of mainstream society require that all card-carrying members of “The Former Coaches of America Club” weigh in on such unclear issues. Former Bears Coach Mike Ditka says play your starters till the end while Tony Dungy sticks by his decision to rest guys when there is nothing left to play for. While Caldwell wrestles with his decision, across town another professional coach is struggling with issues of his own. At the time of writing this the Pacers, despite winning two straight, were still 5 games under .500 and had just lost Danny Granger for a month.
While the Pacers struggles can’t be hung solely on one player, they likely will wind up hanging one man. It’s probably safe to say Pacer Coach Jim O’Brien’s season isn’t off to the start he’d hoped for. Though off season acquisitions Dahntay Jones and Tyler Hansbrough have brought excitement the Pacers still find themselves one game away from slipping into the Central Division basement; and taking up permanent residence here is likely not the best career move O’Brien could make right now.
According to the numbers the Pacers are better defensively. This comes as a relief after a long off-season that saw the front office wear the word defense out just as the mass media have drummed the Tiger Woods story to death. What then is the explanation?
One issue is Danny Granger. As good as he has been on the offensive end the Pacers need more from him defensively. Bird needs to rig the Pacer Secret Santa draw so he can gift Granger a DVD of Michael Jordan’s Greatest Hits. The idea is to understand how Mike dominated BOTH ends of the floor. To take his game to the next level, and win more games, Granger needs to welcome the match up with the opponent’s best offensive player (translation: stop making Jones guard LeBron). Granger’s athletic 6’8 frame should be enough to help him lock down the top scorers in the league.
The second hint Santa would stick in Jim O’Brien’s stocking if he were a Pacers fan is that its time to sit TJ Ford. In virtually every Pacer loss the team has suffered though dry spells where they’ve made scoring points look like a third grader trying to do Calculus. This falls on the point guard. It took Jarrett Jack about two months to put some doubt in O’Brien’s mind last year as to who should be starting. With Jack gone to Toronto, the same has now happened with Earl Watson.
The point is clear. When Watson is on the floor, the Pacers are stronger defensively and the ball moves better. Open shots are just one direct result of good ball movement and, with the shooters the Pacers have, finding more open shots should be enough to avoid those dreaded dry spells that have plagued them all season.
The point is not to give up on Ford. He can be a nice change of pace off the bench and provide your second five with some offense. If he doesn’t want this however, then the point is to give up on Ford.

Just another boring day in the life of the Indianapolis Colts

First appeared on December 11th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

So the Colts won again. With a 27-17 victory over the Tennessee Titans Sunday, Indianapolis ran its record to 12-0 on the season. Yawn. They also tied an NFL record with their 21st consecutive regular season win. Yawn. They have now won 12 games in a season for an NFL record 7th time. Yawn. The win was their 113th of the decade tying them with the San Francisco 49ers of the 90’s as the most wins ever by a team in a 10 year span. Yawn.
This is the typical reaction of so many to the success of the Indianapolis Colts. No matter what they do, those in the national media remain apparently unimpressed. There was more discussion on the post game shows Sunday about Ochocinco’s Sombrero and the state of Tom Brady’s pinkie finger than there was about the perpetual success of the Indianapolis Colts.
Be it a “small market conspiracy” or the fact that the face of the Colts is about as controversial and outspoken as a Buddhist Monk who’s taken a vow of silence, Indianapolis remains the NFL’s Rodney Dangerfield. What the Colts are doing has never been done before. I’ll pause while you think about that. Those of us in Indiana are likely guilty of overlooking them too. We see 18 take the field Sunday after Sunday and simply expect the Men in Blue to win as a result.
But the success of the Colts runs far deeper than Manning’s “laser rocket arm”. You could pay $75 for a ticket, $9 for nachos, squeeze yourself into a seat between the guy with a Colt blue mohawk and some dude who says he rotates Peyton’s tires and not see the real reason behind the unprecedented run of the Colts.
The real reason behind the success of the Colts can likely be traced to three things: The hiring of Bill Polian, his hiring of Tony Dungy and the drafting of Manning. The Colts were 3-13 the season before Polian was hired. The next year he sealed the fate of the franchise by selecting Peyton Manning and NOT Ryan Leaf (who draft guru Mel Kiper claimed had an attitude that would benefit any NFL team).
While most GM’s are working the phones and scratching the backs of greedy agents trying to land monster off season signings, Polian is standing in the rain on a Thursday night watching Ball State play Central Michigan. The draft is where he has built the Colts. The Colt’s have reaped the benefits of Polian’s notorious eye for talent and uncanny knack for finding difference makers in the most unlikely of places (see Pierre Garcon).
Bringing Tony Dungy in was a brilliant move as well. It can be argued that Dungy’s work in building the perfect beast that is the Colts was done largely off the field. He did more than simply coach a team up, Tony Dungy created a culture. And, though he is now working for NBC, that culture endures. Polian’s job then has always been to find guys who not only have talent, but also fit Dungy’s system; the prerequisite of which is to accept the responsibility that comes with being a Colt.
Of course thirdly is Manning whose success has been well documented so we’ll spare you the time. It would seem for now however the Colts are destined to remain the NFL’s “elephant in the room”, but if you happen to be a member of the Detroit Lions front office and are looking to blueprint anything about this franchise; forget about #18- you’d be wise to start with the culture.

What does Football on Hardwood, Al Gore, old Chevy Impala's and the Cold War have in common?

First appeared on December 1st, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Well it’s that time of the year again; the proverbial “Most wonderful time of the year”. For Big Ten fans however, the ACC/Big Ten challenge has not been a wonderful time for anything. For far too long, or since its inception whichever you please, the Challenge has ended with the Big Ten finding itself in a familiar spot; safely strapped to the ACC’s whipping post.
There is a saying in Slavic cultures about whipping posts which goes “Nothin’ seems to change, bad times stay the same”, or maybe that was the Allman Brothers, either way for 11 years the numbers don’t lie. The ACC has been dominant winning all 10 challenges with an overall advantage of 62-35.
In years past one got the feeling the Big Ten had about as much chance of winning the Challenge as that of an Aztec prisoner escaping a ritual sacrifice. And for those of you who didn’t major in World History, that chance would be zero. The only thing more amazing than the ACC’s dominance in the Challenge is the fact that ESPN continues to pay for the rights to broadcast it.
The Big Ten’s inability to win the Challenge has been a harbinger of their performance on the national stage as well. For the last 20 years, rare has been the number one seed or Final Four. In fact since 1989 the Big Ten has notched only 2 National Champions while the ACC has seen 7 teams cut the nets down.
But this year is different. This year there is something in the air. Al Gore would tell you it is too much hair spray or the exhaust of a ’78 Chevrolet Impala, but I believe it to be the winds of change. This year the Big Ten seems to once again resemble the power basketball conference it once was.
To be clear, this is the year the Big Ten will finally win the challenge for the first time. Write it down, fold it up and send it in, there is no way the Big Ten loses for an eleventh time (at least not this year).
Currently the Big Ten boasts 5 ranked teams with 2 in the Top 10. Conversely the ACC has 3 ranked with only 1 being a Top 10 squad. While a few of the match ups may appear to be one-sided (see Maryland vs. Indiana), Sparty (the only Big Ten team with a winning record in the Challenge) facing UNC on the road and Illinois going to Clemson’s Littlejohn Coliseum are just two games that should prove extremely interesting.
Purdue’s “football on the hardwood” should be enough to manhandle Wake Forest while both Penn State and Northwestern have opportunities to open some eyes with tough road wins.
In a week where we should be discussing which undefeated college football team will wind up where, the BCS has once again reminded us that hers is a system born of that rare combination of indecision and incompetence. With this in mind, the Big Ten/ACC challenge moves to the forefront of our attention. So roll the balls out and let’s go.
For three days Purdue fans root for IU and Buckeyes cheer for the Maize and Gold. For three days the Big Ten is the United States and the ACC is the Soviet Union during the height of the Cold War. It’s corn-fed beef and combines versus shellfish and sailboats, the black and blue bang’em up style of the Big Ten versus the wide open play of the ACC. On second thought, maybe this is the most wonderful time of the year.

You can put lipstick on a bad decision and it's still a bad decision

First appeared on November 18th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Sunday Night’s Colts-Patriots match up had it all. The bright lights of primetime, the drama that comes with two of the games biggest stars locking horns and, not to mention, all the excitement that comes with “Bring your own mousetrap night” at Lucas Oil Stadium.
With NBC’s Chris Collinsworth dubbing it the “greatest rivalry of all time”, this game had hype too. In fact when was the last time we saw so much hype surrounding anything? OK, obviously not counting Oprah’s interview with Sarah Palin. Patriot fans waited patiently and, this is just a guess, were probably disappointed (in both instances).
After the Pacers beat the Celtics Friday night, the weekend started very well for those who harbor a genuine dislike for professional sports franchises based in the New England area. And just when it seemed the Patriots would even the score Sunday Night, Patriots Head Coach Bill Belichick finally rolled the dice one too many times.
Chapter 1 of the “Idiot’s Guide to Beating the Colts” says load the line of scrimmage up and run the ball down their throats. In true Belichick style however, the Patriots threw the book out the window. New England appeared more interested in going after an Indianapolis secondary filled with so many new faces that even season ticket holders were busy scrambling for their programs.
It was quintessential Belichick, flying in the face of conventionality. Genius he may be, he still is as nontraditional as they come. Clad in a ratty sweatshirt and mousy hair, the Patriot’s head coach looks more like the volunteer assistant for a high school team rather than the leader of a three time World Champion. Despite this, all the guy does is generate game plans capable of stopping football’s version of Albert Einstein (Peyton Manning) in his tracks. Belichick is the image of the guy you’d see dipping snuff on the sidelines of a varsity game while telling 17 year olds to “check the tape” to prove he once scored five touchdowns against a county rival.
Looking back there were so many decisions that went wrong for Indianapolis. Poor choices that should have sunk them starting with the indoor fireworks that ignited the turf and almost caused the mass evacuation of 65,000 people. Then there was Peyton’s intercepted pass to Pierre Garcon in the 3rd quarter which became a poor choice considering it followed a momentum stealing pick by Antoine Bethea. And let us not forget the game time decision to keep the roof closed on the Luke; which one can only surmise was made to protect Al Michaels’ new hair hat from springing to life in the stirring Midwestern winds.
Of course the “Worst Decision of the Night” award goes to Belichick for not punting on 4th and 2 from his own 30 yard line with two minutes left in the game. In making the call so much was lost. The game, probably any hope for homefield advantage and perhaps even Belichick’s status as “Greatest Modern Football Mind”.
Forget the inability of the Colts to stop the run, the real story of this game was their inability to run the ball. Youth was another factor. All season long the Colts have leaned on a group of rookies for production. Sunday night this crew, who had previously been nothing but solid, finally looked like the rookies they are. All this together should have been enough to seal the fate of the men in blue, but then Belichick happened. Simply put, Indy’s the better team; and the good news for Belichick is we’ve got the tape to prove it.

Oh Danny Boy...Saturday is a must win for you.

First appeared on November 12th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

One can be certain there were many things Purdue’s rookie Head Coach Danny Hope expected to say in his first year. Tired phrases like “This was a learning experience” or “We demonstrated improvement” or perhaps even, “You throw the records out for the Oaken Bucket”. But surely not even Danny Hope himself, nor even the most optimistic of optimists for that matter, and yes this includes the President of the Optimists Club of West Lafayette should he be reading this now over his mug half full of steaming hot coffee, ever expected to be using the words “must win game” during Purdue’s 2009 football season. But that being said, sure as Nancy Pelosi rammed health care down the throats of the House last week, this Saturday’s match up at Ross Aide Stadium with Michigan State is just that. A must win game.
While the Big Ten was falling in love with that fickle temptress Iowa, Purdue was quietly overachieving; well overachieving as much as is possible while still having a 4-6 record. Purdue’s season can be summed up in a few words: inconsistent, amazing, ugly and baffling. Danny Hope rode in with zero expectations for year 1 and is suddenly two wins away from bowl eligibility. Somehow it all happened so quickly, almost as quick as Endora could turn her son-in-law Darren Stephens into an uninspired and overweight Tabby cat.
Of course Samantha could always fix the problem with a wiggle of her adorable little nose. Unfortunately for Danny Hope, when Sparty comes to West Lafayette Saturday it will take more than the wiggle of a witch’s nose to get the job done. On paper things don’t look good for Purdue, but when was the last time they did? While both teams are 3-3 in conference play, State has one of the top ranked offenses in the Big Ten and is the overall leader in total yardage. Conversely Purdue’s defense is not amongst the top ranked and leads in almost no categories.
Proverbially putting the cart before the horse for a moment, Purdue finishes the year in Bloomington. Imagine for a moment the possibility of a sexy Oaken Bucket game the outcome of which could propel the Boilers to a bowl bid. The drama that would exist if the Indiana Hoosiers were the only thing standing in Purdue’s path to a bowl game (wait, we’ve already been down that road haven’t we?).
Somehow Hope has to find a way to bury that talk for a week. Purdue needs to focus all its energies on beating Michigan State or this year simply goes down as “The last time we beat Michigan”. A forgotten season only to be revisited when the dust gets blown off the scrapbook 43 years from now as young wide-eyed Boiler fans want to learn more about the last Purdue team to win in the Big House.
The next two weeks possess multiple possibilities and still somehow the Boiler program lacks energy overall. From his slammed baseball cap and spread offense all the way down to his cowcatcher of a mustache, Hope is seen simply as a clone of Joe Tiller (by the way Danny-Magnum P.I. called, he wants his stache back). Hope has his work cut out for him if he wishes to escape the stereotype of being Joe Tiller Jr. Boiler fans somehow grew weary of Tiller’s perpetual bowl berths, so the pressure is on for Hope to carve out his own identity while winning enough games to keep his job simultaneously. Beating Michigan State Saturday would definitely be a step in the right direction.

When Dr. Jack is involved, you know you've got problems

First appeared on November 4th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Someone get Dr. Jack on the phone. Apparently the nation is ready to pull the plug on baseball. Instant replay on home run calls was bad enough but now that everyone has come to the realization that Major League Umpires are in fact human, and not battery operated humanoids created by Japanese schoolboys with idle time on their hands, most are ready to supplant the judgment of the umpire with the technology of instant replay.
Bringing more instant replay to baseball however smacks of America giving up. Giving up on 150 years of history, giving up on umpires and giving up on the eternal struggle of man vs. computer. If movies like Artificial Intelligence have taught us anything, other than sometimes straight to video is a good thing, it’s that often more technology only muddies the water.
The real question to be asked here is why more replay and why now? Since when do we as Americans give up so easily? It’s entirely possible the current clamor for replay is a product of our long history as a progressive nation of inventors. Was it not us after all who found a way to build a car that could rust in the showroom? Were we satisfied by the convenience of TV dinners? No, we invented the Lunchable for those too lazy to use a microwave.
It would appear the only motivation for using more replay now is to sock the mouths of those whining for it. But while instant replay may bring us slow motion looks in high definition; what will it really solve? Technology or not, a human being will still make the final call at the end of the day. Using instant replay in baseball now would be like building a chair for the Statue of Liberty. Just because we can doesn’t mean it’s necessary; Lady Liberty has been standing fine on her own for 120 years after all.
The cold hard truth is that ours is an imperfect world. Much to their chagrin, the Umpire has long stood as the much heckled mascot of imperfection. This just in- man is not perfect, for evidence see every President since Theodore Roosevelt or simply ask my wife. So a few bad playoff calls have the natives restless. It isn’t totally surprising, as a society we’ve grown accustomed to being bailed out whenever we appear incapable of solving our own problems; I blame Batman, and the Chinese.
So rest safe ye fans of the rosin bag, unlimited time outs and stepping out of the batters box to tighten those batting gloves- replay will certainly slow baseball down even more. This won’t sit well with the younger demographic; which baseball views as an insurance policy. The last thing viewers accustomed to seeing dirt bikes turning somersaults 75 feet off the ground want to sit through is three foul ball replay reviews during the same at bat.
For the rest of us, the delays that replay will bring to Baseball will simply provide more opportunities to make trips to the kitchen, check our email or perhaps build an all-seasons room off the back of the house.
Baseball’s rich history is full of magical moments. There are no controversial calls clouding our memories of America’s game. Be it the Willie Mays catch in centerfield or Kirk Gibson’s pinch hit homer, it’s magical moments like these that we remember. The very reason we watch centers around the chance of witnessing another historic moment. As dramatic as baseball can be, magical moments aren’t so magical when we have to sit around and wait for the replay.

The truth is you can't handle the truth

First appeared on October 28th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

When Titan’s head coach Jeff Fisher stripped down to his Peyton Manning jersey recently the ensuing fallout reminded us once again that ours is a hypersensitive world. Far too often Americans gorge themselves on a twisted reality of what their lives should be before ultimately gagging on the truth. If there is a lesson to be learned here it is that clearly too many people are incapable of handling the truth (pardon my Jack Nicholson).
Let’s be clear, Fisher’s motivation was not misguided. At 0-6 he may be the captain of a ship that has no hope of staying afloat, but he is still far too intelligent a man to be thumbing his nose at Bud Adams (his boss) and the Titans ownership (his employer) by pulling some corny stunt (wearing a Colts jersey in Tennessee). More than a stunt, the truth for Fisher is that this was the closest he could come to being lighthearted while his world is crumbling down around him. Wearing the jersey and commenting that he “wanted to feel like a winner” both came from a healthy respect for Tony Dungy (the man he was brought in to introduce).
What else was Fisher supposed to do? Is there anything about his season that anybody is going to want to hear when his team is 0-6 and was just creamed the day before by the Patriots 59-0? “Well, despite Brady’s five touchdown passes-I liked our energy in the second quarter.”
At some point we must applaud Fisher’s moxie for donning a Manning jersey as his life and future are being swept up by an F-5 Tornado of rumors. When it comes to athletes and coaches in tight spots we as the general public get bombarded with anything but the truth that we all too often come to expect window dressing. Perhaps this is why so many had a hard time with his so called stunt; they were expecting something they had heard before and when they didn’t get it Fisher was labeled an incompetent nut.
The negative reaction to Fisher’s stunt however is just another example at how hypersensitive our world has become. America as a whole is getting softer by the day. Participation trophies and the “we’re all winners” mentality are driving a stake in the heart of true competition. The world is full of countries making up ground on us daily, some arguably passing us by as you read this. All because there are workers, students and children in far flung parts of the world whose lives are so tough they are naturally hungrier and more driven to succeed.
A few years ago a Little League coach created a national episode by calling on the much used strategy of walking the opposing team’s best hitter to face someone else. Ripples spread nationwide as the “next kid up” in this championship game turned out to be a cancer survivor. Nobody could ever argue cancer is anything but ugly and horrible, but isn’t the fundamental idea behind Little League to help kids discover those things they can and cannot do?
The biggest difference between us and those nations closing the gap on us is the truth. Far too often American’s are busy playing hide and seek with it while the lives of people in other parts of the world are so difficult they must embrace it early on. Chasing dreams is the natural born right of any free person, but at some point we all must face the realization that people pay hard earned money to watch professional athletes with good reason. The sooner this lesson can be learned the better off we’ll all be.

For those not yet confused by college football; please read on

First appeared on October 21st, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Why does the lady at the cash register always ask if my check card is credit or debit? Why does she insist on asking when it can be both? And what is the most acceptable choice? These are the unanswered questions of my life.
Confusion is defined as a state of bewilderment. And no, “the state of bewilderment” is not west of Nevada. Bewilderment is personified by the look the cashier generally receives from me when I am forced to choose between credit or debit.
The Balloon Boy should know something about confusion and bewilderment after throwing the media into a code red tailspin late last week by apparently faking his own runaway homemade helium balloon rescue emergency. If anything he provided a “let’s ride this pony for all it’s worth” moment for the Larry Kings of the world, “Fort Collins, Colorado-Hello!” You say you still don’t think it was a publicity stunt? Perhaps another cup of Kool Aid is what you need most.
Confusion ruled the day Saturday in College Football and, contrary to popular belief it was not BCS induced. Surely the Ohio State Buckeyes were confused. Somebody please say they were under the impression the Purdue Boilermaker team they were facing Saturday was a golden days “Drew Brees attempting something like 1,000 passes in a half” version and not the 1-5 Danny Hope-led team that actually took the field because, despite being a two touchdown favorite, the Buckeyes still found a way to lose. For suffering one of the worst losses in his career on the day the first BCS rankings came out, Senator Tressel deserves a huge Arthur Fonzarelli “thumbs up” from Buckeye Nation.
How confused must fans of Delaware State be? Not only were their heads spinning from a 63-6 defeat at the hands of the Michigan Wolverines, but to make matters worse, like a punch in the gut Hornet fans were forced to suffer two defeats on Saturday after a scheduling conflict saddled them with a loss via forfeit.
Apparently there was confusion Saturday in South Bend as well. Fans were forced to endure the misery of a high spirited affair growing painfully tedious as time and again the officials brought things to a grinding halt with a never-ending series of “Why are they replaying THAT?” replays. In fact one might argue there were more replays in the game than USC band members granted sidelined passes (which is a ridiculous analogy for those who saw the broadcast). There were so many USC band members piled up on the sidelines Saturday it was almost as if the Trojan Horse had eaten some bad Thai food.
But alas confusion in college football is not unlike hormones in a Junior High dance; without them what would we really have? Certainly not the enigmatic six headed monster who feeds on television contracts and little boys who don’t do their homework (yes we’re still talking about college football). College football needs confusion. Confusion is the tonic that drives coaches, motivates players, stimulates the media and tortures fans.
To have a logical system that rewards strength of schedule and culminates with one clear champion would be the death of commentary, second guessing and the almighty “what-if” scenario. And these are the things that keep us all coming back.

Manning or Brady? The steel cage death match to end all steel cage death matches

First appeared on October 14th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Be it the Bundys, Honeymooners or anyone representing the Raiders franchise, even the most legendary of arguers are apt to stumble upon arguments which appear endless. Explosive topics like which came first the chicken or the egg? Or, if a tree falls in the woods and nobody is around, does it make a noise? And then there is perhaps the most puzzling of all, who is the best quarterback of their generation, Tom Brady or Peyton Manning?
This is not a topic to tackle lightheartedly (unless you are the Ravens defense attempting to avoid another bogus penalty for sacking Brady of course). Stacking these two titans of sport up requires an appreciation of history, great knowledge of football and the ability to remain impartial. With this in mind, take what you’re about to read for what it’s worth.
At 6’5, Manning is a full inch taller than Brady; point Manning. Manning will play five primetime games this year to Brady’s four; advantage Manning. And before you begin thinking this is simply an attempt at inflating the legend of Peyton Manning like years of horse testosterone abuse inflated a stick thin outfielder whose Hall of Fame career may or may not have begun with the Pirates, Brady’s wife is a Supermodel; point Brady.
Hardware is a popular measure of the professional athlete. With this in mind, Brady has won three Super Bowls giving him two more rings than Manning; point Brady. Manning’s housekeeper has to dust around three league MVP trophies to Brady’s one however; advantage Manning.
Statistics are the measuring stick of choice amongst the mathematically inclined. For his career, Manning has over 20,000 more passing yards than Brady; advantage Manning. As a Colt Manning also has 121 career wins to Brady’s 107; advantage Manning. Though a detailed explanation of how it is calculated is best left for someone in possession of a PHD in statistics, Manning’s Quarterback Rating is 3 points higher than Brady’s; once again advantage Manning.
Many times the measure of a superstar is their imprint on popular culture. If there is anyone out there who hasn’t seen Manning hocking something on television they are most likely living in a thatch roofed hut somewhere in the Marshall Islands trying to dial a signal in with rabbit ears and tin foil. After all, the guy’s face is everywhere (see Gatorade, Sprint, Sony, MasterCard, H.H. Gregg and Direct TV for proof). With so much commercial face time it would appear that we have finally found somebody who could actually sell ice to an Eskimo; advantage Manning.
On paper Manning is clearly the better quarterback and his All Decade team selection is perhaps an early vote of confidence that history will ultimately find him the better player. In the court of public opinion however, Manning constantly finds himself audibilizing wildly (patting his head or flapping his arms while screaming nonsensical verbage) from the backseat with Brady confidently perched behind the wheel.
The thing about fans is they are notorious for only remembering the quarterback who wins the last game of the season as opposed to the one who puts up gaudy numbers for 16 straight weeks. With this in mind Manning needs one more ring to separate himself from Brady, otherwise only a Favre-like failure to recognize the deterioration of his own skills will keep Brady from going down as the best of his era. One more ring should cement Manning’s place as the greatest quarterback of his generation. Note to Jon Gruden: if you’re reading this, stop calling him the sheriff. That nickname’s like a rented tux-it just doesn’t fit!

When will this "Fever" for a title break?

First appeared on October 8th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

As the final buzzer sounded on Game 4 of the WNBA Finals in Conseco Field House Wednesday, two things were clear. The Fever remain one game away from a championship and women’s basketball is not at all what many think it is. There was a time when women’s basketball was stereotyped as being slow paced, low scoring and about as physical as a game of Scrabble (apologies to those families who have come to blows over someone’s attempted play of the word XU); for those of you who have not watched the WNBA lately however, nothing could be further from the truth.
A running team, the Phoenix Mercury get up and down the floor faster than you can google “symptoms of H1N1” after being sneezed on. A total of 236 points were scored in Game 1 of the Finals and, after receiving an inadvertent Fever elbow Thursday night, Mercury forward Penny Taylor is playing with a tooth wired in place by a Hockey dentist. Slow, low scoring and soft, I think not.
The Fever were able to score a split after games 1 and 2 in Phoenix before bringing the Finals to Conseco where they had only lost 3 times previously. Sunday’s Game 3 saw a WNBA Finals record for attendance set but after failing to close the series out Wednesday night Lady Drama will have to once again saddle up and ride west where the Fever will have last chance at donning the glass slipper (no double meaning intended of course).
Despite being the worst shooting team in the league, the Fever are incredibly balanced. Five players are averaging double figures in the playoffs. With a pair of NCAA titles between them, team leaders Tamika Catchings and Katie Douglas are proven winners. As perimeter players with good length, the two have feasted all season on the match up challenges opponents have scrambled to solve. Together this dynamic duo is ripping opponents up in the postseason with Douglas leading the team in scoring and Catchings doing more than her part by averaging a double double.
The Fever also have excellent complimentary players as well. Tammy Sutton Brown provides dependable inside scoring while Arizona State rookie Briann January has proven a bright future awaits by averaging double figures off the bench in the postseason. However, after suddenly becoming the Fever’s leading scorer during the Finals, Ebony Hoffman has to be the biggest surprise of all.
We should probably mention something about the Mercury to maintain our reputation for unbiased commentary (or on the outside chance there is somebody in Arizona who subscribes to this paper). WNBA Champions in 2007, the Mercury are led by Head Coach Corey Gaines who favors a wide open style inspired by Loyola Marymount’s Paul Westhead. You remember Loyola Marymount? The “hurry up and lay it in so we can inbound the ball, make one pass and drill a three pointer” Loyola Marymount? The same Loyola Marymount that could drop 145 points on you without breaking a sweat?
All kidding aside, Games 3 and 4 saw a real energy in Conseco. An energy the Pacers haven’t seen since Ron-Ron went into the stands for some popcorn in Detroit. While Larry Bird bought 9,000 seats and gave them away during the Fever’s Eastern Conference Finals appearance, there has been no need for such gratuitous charity lately. Consecutive capacity crowds, all of whom paid full price, came, cheered and left with the only fever one welcomes in this topsy turvy- I think a co-worker gave me H1N1- sky is falling world we live in; the fever for a title.

It's been 40 years already and has anything really changed?

First appeared on September 30, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Some things happen only once in a lifetime. Things like true love, Haley’s Comet and apparently Indiana winning a football game in Ann Arbor. Yet as Freshman running back Darius Willis was streaking up the sideline during Saturday’s fourth quarter, the crimson red heart of Hoosier nation surged with the belief that history was in the making. 85 yards later Willis scored giving Indiana a lead late in a game they had not won since 1967.
The last time Indiana beat Michigan in Ann Arbor LBJ was president and we hadn’t visited the moon yet. The last time Indiana beat Michigan in Ann Arbor gas was 33 cents a gallon, Super Bowl I had just been played and Charlie Chaplin released his final film.
In the end it was not meant to be as Wolverine Freshman Tate Forcier wrote another chapter in what, early on, looks to be a storybook career. To be clear, Michigan won a game they had no business winning and Indiana lost a game they had no business losing. But ultimately it was a game lost on the national radar for there were far too many upsets Saturday for anyone to spend much time talking about what almost was in Ann Arbor.
Despite this, two things should come about as a result of Saturday’s outcome. For Michigan, one can only assume the insane “Wolverine National Championship” talk we heard after they found a way to beat Notre Dame three weeks ago is gone, surely. For Indiana more may come from losing this game than one might expect. Televised on ESPN 2, the game reached far more households than ESPN U or the Big Ten Network combined. This being said, Indiana having such a dramatic performance on a stage as glamorous as the Big House on such a network as ESPN 2 will go further in recruiting than any 3-0 start against two MAC teams and Eastern Kentucky ever could.
Was it one game? Yes. Do we know what kind of team Bill Lynch really has on his hands? No. Will we find out next week when they play Ohio State? Most likely. But forget wins for the moment, IU needs more performances like this to both energize their fan base and attract recruits. Would it have gone further to win Saturday? Obviously. Does it go further losing by three than the 65-0 we’ve so painfully grown accustomed to? I’m not going to dignify that with a response.
For one bright Saturday afternoon Indiana’s football program caught lightning in a bottle. They came in a program ranked as one of the worst in the conference by the experts and, except for two plays in the first half defensively, they never once looked like they didn’t belong on the field with Michigan. A game that historically resembles a boxer working the heavy bag turned out to be every bit Ali v. Frazier, Tyson v. Holyfield or Nancy Pelosi v. anyone with a pulse. Does the game get Lynch a ticket out of the leaking lifeboat he and Charlie Weis appear to be trying to keep afloat? Not quite yet. And now, as far as plugging the leak goes, the boys are going to have to get real creative after Weis needed a fourth quarter drive to beat Purdue and Lynch threw their best hope (chewing gum) out of his mouth in disgust on Saturday. Strange as it may sound however, the loss to Michigan does get Lynch one step closer to his goal of building a program and, oh yeah- keeping his job at the same time.

In Jay We Trust; well, some of us anyway

First appeared on September 23rd
in The Lebanon Reporter

Have you ever regretted buying something and spent days or weeks looking for the receipt just so you could return it? After tossing four interceptions in his first game, one has to wonder how much time the Bears ownership spent scouring their offices, emptying drawers, turning over couch cushions and looking under mattresses for Jay Cutler’s receipt. After such an embarrassing opener against their arch rivals, just how close was ownership to making that dreaded trip back to the store to shamelessly grovel, “I can’t find the receipt- but I only used it once.”
As ugly as week one was, week two didn’t start much better for the man most in Chicago had dubbed the greatest quarterback in Bear’s franchise history before he had even taken a snap. Of course nobody in their right mind, present company included, would dare compare Kyle Orton to Dan Marino, but I’m sure even Orton could have gotten more than the 8 yards passing Cutler had in the first quarter against Pittsburgh Sunday. In fact after just five quarters of football, one has to wonder how many Bears fans were thinking the same thing but collectively waiting for Kanye West to storm the stage, steal the microphone and announce to the world that he loves Jay Cutler but Kyle Orton was better.
This isn’t meant to be an exercise in Cutler bashing it’s just the hype that surrounded his trade from Denver was so ubiquitous all summer it’s simply human nature to wonder how warranted it was. For never before have we seen the media whipped into such a frenzied hype over one player switching teams; OK you’re right Brett, please forgive us for forgetting about you momentarily.
But with the Blackhawks coming so close to a Stanley Cup last season and both the Sox and Cubs fading, the city of Chicago is suddenly hungry for a title. With this in mind Cutler becomes more than just another off season acquisition. He becomes the great white hope for Chicago sports fans everywhere.
Forget the 4 interceptions from week 1 and the 8 yards passing in Sunday’s first quarter, Cutler seemingly has larger issues. Not only are the words Super Bowl and his name being printed in the same sentence on a near constant basis, but he must also find a way to fill a pair of shoes that have went unworn for the duration of my lifetime; those of the first Chicago Bear superstar quarterback.
Luckily for Cutler, he was able to make something of the final three quarters Sunday. And, after watching years of Orton and Rex Grossman battling each other for control of the clipboard, it would appear Cutler will make the Bears a much better football team. This being said, Cutler wasn’t a media darling in Denver and, if things don’t go well early on, the Chicago media will likely make Denver feel like a ghost town.
Can Cutler deliver a title as well as become the superstar everyone assumes he will be? The Hall of Fame, NFL legend status and a lifetime free pass from parking tickets in Chicago all hinge on whether he can deliver a title and become the quarterback Chicago hungers for.
In the end, it will all fall on Cutler’s head. Literally. Does he have the head it takes to be a consistent quarterback, or more importantly for his position, a leader? Too often it’s been his bottom lip we’ve seen when things get tough and for him to deliver both a title and become a superstar, Cutler will need more than simply a rocket arm.

Weis or Rodriguez? Is the lesser of two evils really any better?

First appeared on September 16th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Willing and able football coach in his prime seeks BCS school looking for impressive resume. Must be willing to overlook mixed results. Qualifications include 14 years of coaching experience at the NFL level with four Super Bowl rings. References include two Hall of Fame coaches. Call the Notre Dame Athletic office and leave a message for Jose.
With his team’s loss to Michigan, Notre Dame Head Coach Charlie Weis (Tuna Jr.) may have sealed his fate; again. Saturday was more than a game. It was a moment in which the beleaguered coach sought to snatch his career from the jowls of termination. And just when it appeared his talented receivers and silky smooth quarterback with the west coast hair would pull through, there was Michigan’s Rich Rodriguez (Rich-Rod) bungling things in the same awkward and familiar way only Rich-Rod can.
Two once proud men. Both with hooks firmly in their mouths as their fan base and boosters reel them in. Both fighting for their coaching lives and reputations as 100,000 strong in the Brick House Saturday tried their best to do the loyal fan gig, but all along failing in masking their confusion. Most were surely unsure of what they wanted more- their own coach to fail so the fire-him-now drama would continue, or Weis to have another nail driven into his coffin.
I mean seriously, when your own players are complaining they’re working too hard, it goes a long way in saying Rich-Rod has problems of his own. And still, despite this, he somehow found a way to wriggle away from the hungry jaws of Tuna Jr. It’s no surprise really, we’ve seen Rich-Rod wriggle his way out of tight places before. It might actually do more to explain just how bad things have gotten for Weis. In the end it was Rich Rod who was able to snap his line and live to fight another week while Tuna Jr. appears to be one game closer to finding himself on the stringer.
Since Charlie Weis came to South Bend the phrase “the once proud program” has passed over the tongues of commentators and fans alike far more than “Luck of the Irish” or anything else the Golden Domers of old cling to. Whether you point to the most losses in a single season in Notre Dame history (9 in 2007), the billboard funded by former players heckling Weis or the two passes called late in the game against Michigan, slowly but surely the boosters and the University are beginning to find more and more line on their reels.
Who knows why these things happen. With only a handful of games each season and a postseason system so illogical it appears to have been organized by three chickens and a Black Headed Spider Monkey, college football can be brutal on coaches. Somewhere along the way Weis failed at endearing himself to the media (or winning enough games whichever works). He doesn’t say the right things and he doesn’t use the same tired catch phrases the press expects to hear regularly.
Weis doesn’t even attempt the painted smile; you know the same painted on smile every coach musters whether he’s won, lost or just had a house burn down. Most likely this is a byproduct of spending so much time with two of his mentors, Bill Belichick and Bill Parcells (the Tuna). For this, Weis may be one step closer to paying the ultimate price. The point is Weis is out of favor, he’s out of excuses and he’s one week closer to being out of both time and chances.

Now that Indiana University has built it, will they come?

First appeared on September 9th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

When a last second Hail Mary pass landed in the end zone last Thursday night Bill Lynch and the Indiana Hoosiers dodged a huge bullet. Well, as huge as a win over Eastern Kentucky can be that is. It wasn’t the prettiest of wins but at this place in time Lynch can’t afford to be a picky man.
At this point Indiana Football’s future is uncertain. For many years they have been the punch line in a conference struggling for national respect. But alas, for Hoosier fans that is, the winds of change seem to be finally a blowin’. With the completion of the north end zone project Indiana now boasts incredible facilities that should aid in recruiting. These include end zone seating linking the east and west grandstands, a Hall of Champions museum, banquet facilities and film rooms with stadium seating.
Of course football teams tend to do better when they can break tackles and block for teammates. With this in mind, programs are built with proper weight facilities and, call Guinness Book if it makes you feel better, but the world’s largest collegiate weight room now resides in Bloomington, Indiana (25,000 square feet).
The Hoosiers have also shown a commitment to their younger fan base. The south end zone area now includes a knot hole park where kids can play on a replica of the Memorial Stadium field. One thing is clear, Fred Glass, and the rest of the Athletics Department, understand Rome wasn’t built in a day. By adding something as simple as an activity area for kids they ensure the program’s future by sowing a crop of young fans who will want to return to Memorial Stadium with their own children someday.
But for now all signs point to Lynch. He was given the opportunity to build on what Terry Hoeppner started. But a real opportunity is not one or two years. He needs a legitimate chance to recruit the kids he wants. To build his own program and not simply carry on the legacy of another. Just because he struggled to get wins at Ball State doesn’t mean Bill Lynch can’t coach (see Bill Belichick in Cleveland).
The facelift Hoeppner provided and the subsequent bowl his co-pilot (Lynch) helped get the Hoosiers to were both special but Hoosier fans can’t think in terms of bowls right now. Lynch simply needs to show measured progress. This means competing with the Iowa’s and Minnesota’s of the world and handling the Eastern Kentuckys. And by “handling” we don’t mean 19-13.
They will never beat Michigan, Penn State or Ohio State with any regularity (which other Big Ten schools do?) but there is no reason for them to be the eternal conference doormat. Indiana has proven it can be competitive in most every other sport. In fact Indiana athletic programs have won over 24 national titles. With this in mind they should be capable of fielding a more competitive football team.
In the next two years Lynch’s teams need to find themselves in games late against Big Ten opponents. For as far as getting butts in the seats go, there’s a lot to be said for having a chance to win the game you have paid fifty bucks to see. If he’s still squeaking out wins against Eastern Kentucky two years from now then Fred Glass needs to help him find the door. And with a new 138,000 square foot addition, he might literally have to help Lynch find the door. With new facilities and new administration winning at Indiana can no longer be a question of if but when.

It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world...for wide receivers anyway

First appeared on September 2nd, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Pardon my Seinfeld but what’s the deal with wide receivers? Is “Receivers will be self-centered and nonconformist” chiseled somewhere into the ten commandments of football below “Brett Favre Shall Play”? When Denver Bronco Brandon Marshall refuses to do the one thing he is paid for (catch passes) and Terrell Owens takes it upon himself to weigh in on Commissioner Roger Goodell’s suspension of Michael Vick (when virtually none of the other 1600 players in the league felt the need to do so) receivers as a whole once again find themselves on the outside looking in at the real world.
Between fake cell phone calls in the end zone, the demanding of both trades and more touches, Chad Johnson lobbying the league to change his name to a jersey number and Marshall batting practice passes away like an angry toddler, this whole “wide receivers playing the diva” thing has gotten old. Somewhere down the line receivers got it in their heads that fans actually care what they have to say. And somewhere down that same line they forgot that all fans really care about is how many balls they catch on Sundays.
How many times will receivers let their mouths write checks their abilities can’t cash? I’m not sure about you, but if somebody tells me “let’s take this out in the street”, I’m taking a punter with me before a wide receiver. At least punters have to try and tackle somebody once in a while. I mean most receivers don’t even wear thigh pads- so really, how tough could they be?
We probably have only ourselves to blame. After all Hollywood was able to find a focus group somewhere (cave dwellers we can only assume) that agreed giving Terrell Owens his own reality show was a good idea. T.O. at the Laundromat, T.O waiting in the drive through. Really? We can’t even be certain the last time Owens was fully in touch with reality so how can anyone sell his show to people as reality?
Of course it wouldn’t be August if Chad Johnson (or Ocho Cinco if you’re using the SAP button on your newspaper) wasn’t saying he will shatter NFL records again. Of course this year, as with all before, we will discover Johnson is nothing more than one year older (I’m guessing somewhere around week 3).
Even Marvin Harrison, who did nothing for 10 years but put up ridiculous numbers quietly, started getting weird near the end of his days in Indianapolis. And while Colts fans may have chuckled at Reggie Wayne showing up for training camp in a dump truck; one has to wonder how many were quietly sweating over fears Wayne would embrace his new role as “the guy” by promptly losing his mind.
Through fines and suspensions the Commissioner has labored to clean up the NFL’s image. Heck, he even went all Dick Cheney last year by having a secret meeting in an undisclosed location. All of this to polish the shield when simply eliminating the Wide Receiver position probably would have gone a lot further.
This isn’t meant to be an attack on characters. Characters are the ones who help us through the tough work days. But it’s getting to the point now that a wide receiver naturally feels pressure to be the prima donna. And just what do they have to boast about anyway? Last I checked it was quarterbacks like Tom Brady who were dating the supermodels. It’s time for receivers, like the lady who tried to compare President Obama’s policies to those of Hitler, to sit down and shut up.

More questions than Roger Goodell can shake a stick at

First appeared on August 26th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

With a new NFL season closing in upon us with sloth-like speed, we find our lives once again cluttered with unanswered questions. Questions like will attendance be down league wide for a second consecutive year? Is Jay Cutler all the Bears really need to bring the “Super Bowl Shuffle” to a new generation and, perhaps most perplexing of all, when Barney Frank watches the Redskins play on TV does he really see 80,000 dining room tables in the stands?
To find all the answers to your most troubling questions about the upcoming NFL season one might head for the local Wal Mart. Here those intelligent beings amongst us would pull a bag chair off the rack before heading to the magazine aisle where one would sit for hours (or until the night watchman asks you to leave) painfully poring over issue after issue of countless preseason magazines.
Of course if you don’t have the same kind of free time on your hands as say Brett Favre’s press agent, and yet still long to know what to look forward to this season, then you’ve come to the right place. If you want solid predictions and the kind of serious analysis that will win you enough money to finally get your bookies strong armed brother-in-law to stop following your kids home from school then you should probably stop reading now.
The questions surrounding the Colts are so numerous there aren’t enough trees in the Pacific Northwest to print the pages necessary to mention them all. However with a veteran team the question of most importance isn’t about production but rather health. If the Colts have bullet Bob Sanders on the field, stay healthy on the offensive line and keep 18 upright for the entire season- they should make another run. So the real question becomes will the injury gods smile on Indianapolis this season or is it Manning’s turn to take a “Tom Brady-like vacation”?
Open arms in New England will undoubtedly be waiting for the return of their star. Yet despite having Tom Brady there, questions do exist in the backfield. In signing former Jacksonville Jaguar Fred Taylor can the Hoodie really find pay dirt once again by recycling another player whose ticket for the retirement home was already punched by a different franchise? (see Junior Seau).
Now that he has a legit defense (top 10 in 2009) and an unstoppable running game (top 5 in 2009), what excuse will Brett Favre have when the Vikings fail to advance in the playoffs? Better yet, what excuse will he have when Green Bay beats them twice?
A quick cruise around the rest of the league only reveals more questions. Will Titan QB Vince Young take any snaps this season? You know, so that he might finally make some meaningful progress towards completing his self-proclaimed “Hall of Fame career”? Will having the first pick in this years NFL draft be enough for the Lions to solidify their legacy as league leaders in both losses and empty seats? At over $60 a piece, will they sell ANY large pizzas at the new Texas Stadium?
Will the Bengals finally take the stripes of their uniforms so that their players only have to worry about wearing them off the field? What will happen first? Will Daniel Snyder’s checks start bouncing or will he petition the commissioner’s office to expand the rosters so that he might finally realize his dream of signing every free agent in the league? Obviously these questions can’t be answered before the real season begins- until then together we must wonder and wait.

Death to the Preseason I Say

First appeared on August 18th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Death to the preseason. I don’t care how it’s done, just make it happen. Make the preseason take a long walk off a short plank, send it to the gallows, give it the “Marie Antoinette” or hook it up to old sparky. It really doesn’t matter, just make it go away. Like now.
Watching preseason football is brutal. And, unless you’re a fan of false starts and punts, watching the Colts first preseason game Friday night was so painful even a lethal injection to the heart wouldn’t have made the pain go away fast enough.
All apologies to Donald Brown of course who endeared himself to Colt fans immediately by making some nice runs with the football. Though it should be pointed out that most of the Vikings defenders probably put more effort into piling food on their plates during the pregame meal than they did in making any preseason tackles. The real good news in all of this is that we only have three more preseason snoozefests to go.
They will tell you the preseason is necessary. They will use large words and complicated phraseology like “talent evaluation” and “live game situations”. Don’t buy any of it. It’s about money-period. The NFL is a business and having their talking heads repeating the preseason is “necessary” until fans ultimately accept it as fact is mere propaganda. Chairman Mao did the same in China with the only real difference being he didn’t make anybody pay full price. Call it what you like, the preseason is nothing more than another way for them to weasel their way inside your pockets.
In case you were wondering, I don’t coach professional football. That being said I do know if your starters basically play only one series, or at the most a quarter, that still gives you 45 minutes to evaluate your other guys. This being said two preseason games seems like it should be enough. Subjecting fans to anything more is simply a cruel and unusual punishment not unlike those strange Vietnam flashback episodes of Magnum P.I. or road construction signs that are still flashing after the crew has left the worksite.
If the NFL wants a way to get more money before the regular season then they need to go back to the drawing board. Why not bring four teams to one site and have them play half a game? If that’s you reading this Roger Goodell, go ahead and take credit for this idea. If that means we don’t have to suffer through four preseason games again then it’s worth it. Having four teams in one place would allow fans to see other players and teams they might not see during the regular season. It would also likely entice hard core fans to travel, thus helping the economies of host cities.
Maybe Simon Cowell is the better answer. The NFL would likely see preseason attendance skyrocket if fans could vote after each play as to who a team should keep or cut. One wonders though if Mr. Cowell would be half as snide if he were belittling the talent of a 6’5 300 pound offensive tackle who missed a block instead of the mousy William Hung. For a chance to see that- the NFL is welcome inside my pocket any day.
Perhaps my wife summed it up best. When she found out I was watching preseason football she immediately asked: That means it doesn’t count right? That means we’re not interested right? That means we can turn it right? I’m guessing most of you did the same.

Iverson to Pacers not the best answer

first appeared on August 12th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

When we were in third grade somebody started the rumor that our teacher was a former Nazi war criminal hiding out in small town Indiana. To be honest the woman was mean, but to be fair a Nazi war criminal she was not. The point is ours is a world rife with rumors which often buzz our heads like barnstorming stagger-wings, originating from points unknown and often built on half truths.
The latest rumor turning barrel rolls in Larry Bird’s office is the possibility of Allen Iverson in an Indiana Pacer uniform. It’s interesting to say the least. The thought of Iverson hoisting shots in Conseco Fieldhouse on a nightly basis likely has some intrigued and others cringing; count me in with the cringers. With a lifetime scoring average of 27 points per game, Iverson’s talent is inarguable and, though he’s already paved his road to the Hall of Fame, making an exit in Indianapolis would be all kinds of wrong.
For starters he comes with so much baggage he would likely need a caravan of camels to haul it all to Indianapolis and with everything Larry Bird has done to disinfect the image of the franchise adding a player like Iverson would be risky to say the least. And by risky I mean a “ringing Kim Jung IL’s doorbell wearing a star spangled speedo” kind of risky.
There was a time when Iverson was ultra-explosive and could carve up defenses geared specifically to stop him. The catch here is that he is no longer that player and, though nearly every team in the league has tried telling him that in their own subtle way, it just simply isn’t registering.
Despite the fact that his game is based largely on the speed and quickness that divorced him three years ago, he still has the skill set necessary to contribute on the NBA level. If he were willing to accept a lesser role as a scorer coming off the bench then Larry Bird should sign him before he finishes reading this column. The trouble is Iverson has not shown he is ready to make the same sacrifices that brought rings to Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen; and of course Larry Bird likely isn’t reading this.
Realistically Iverson could help somebody by providing scoring punch off the bench in much the same way Vinnie “the Microwave” Johnson did for the Piston’s of the early 90’s but unfortunately the 10 time All Star thinks there is an eleventh appearance left somewhere in his tank.
This is the impasse that has Iverson sitting by the phone at home eating potato chips and watching bad daytime television. Somehow he just doesn’t understand why he can’t find that one NBA executive who is actually looking for a 34 year old shooting guard that wants 30 shots a night and millions of dollars for doing so. Note to Iverson’s agent- most of the starting shooting guards in the league right now were in middle school when your client won his league MVP trophy; so you may want to revisit your demands.
So as things stand now signing Iverson would be a bad move. Bad like the crew of a submarine eating a crave case of White Castle sliders before leaving port. Bad like Hugo Chavez using the words war and the United States in the same sentence. Bad like Roger Clemens’ memory and Sammy Sosa’s English. As it stands right now Bird is moving his way to the top of the class amongst league executives but on this particular test signing Iverson would simply be the wrong answer.

Crooked drives, crooked numbers and one Crooked Stick

First appeared on August 5th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

The leader board for the 2009 Senior U.S. Open at Crooked Stick golf club in Carmel over the weekend read like a veritable who’s who of former PGA stars. Despite this it was the amateur Tim Jackson’s tournament to lose for two days and ultimately, and with all due respect to Jackson, he found a way to do so. Yet as mechanically efficient as he was early, can anybody really blame Jackson for losing when the winner (Fred Funk) hits the showers at twenty under par?
Be it the fortuitous rains, the comfortable weather, the drought of professional golf experiences in central Indiana or the fact that this one marked the first I had attended, something made this past weekend at Crooked Stick a magical experience. In fact it was more than magical, it was wild; an African plains kind of wild.
Keeping an eye on it all, the Met Life blimp floated overhead like a White Backed Vulture hovering on the thermals. The long neck of an adult giraffe could be seen in the silhouette of a 200 foot antennae tower craning high over the trees as, like a frenzied colony of termites, streams of people in vibrant colors were seen moving about in an unchoreographed harmony.
After spying the pairings sheet, like a giddy rainforest-bound ornithologist, the names of those players one wishes to see most are circled; several that would qualify as endangered species. But soon one comes to the realization that finding players on the course is like stalking big game; it can be so difficult at times it almost requires a tracker.
Then suddenly the shrieking cheers from far flung places, reminiscent of the high pitched yelping of African Wild Dogs, are broken by a hushed whisper rippling across the crowd. Is it a leopard in the weeds? A lion stalking prey? No-it’s Greg Norman on the fifth tee box. And with all the fervor of a cackle of famished Hyena the crowd falls upon him to watch as he sends a tee ball rocketing into the stratosphere.
Of course this Serengeti was littered with cameramen, microphones and miles upon miles of cable; in fact this past weekend at “the stick” was only one John 3:16 guy short of having that "big time television event" feel. Even Tom Watson, whose performance at Turnberry proved golf is a sport that doesn’t always recognize age, couldn’t steal the spotlight from the course. Drawn by the hand of the legendary Pete Dye himself how fitting is it that, with all the great golf courses out there bearing names meant to pay homage to their flattering topography (Cherry Hills, Whistling Straits, Pebble Beach), one of Indiana’s top courses would be named after a crooked stick.
But after a short time spent there two things became very clear- At over 7200 yards Crooked Stick is a course that would haunt the everyday golfer and, despite hard economic times, Hoosiers are still willing to turn out to support a sporting event. There were many great stories from the weekend, but none bested the throngs of people who turned out at “the stick”. It bears mentioning if we truly relish opportunities like having the Senior U.S. Open in our own backyard then we all must summon the motivation to get off the couch long enough to attend them (See this year’s Brickyard 400). While Oprah and the Sham Wow guy will no doubt testify on behalf of your couch by speaking to the addictive allure of television, let us not forget nothing can ever replace the unpredictable thrill of witnessing something in person

Around the World and back-by hybrid car?

First appeared on July 29th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

The next time your job seems impossible or painfully repetitive, take a moment to think of Oliver Hicks. This Englishman, who was first to row a boat solo across the Atlantic, is currently attempting to row solo “around the world”. Of course his definition of “around the world” is highly debatable as Hicks is rowing an extreme southern route around Antarctica. It still bears mentioning that, while his may not be a true “around the world” adventure, it is nonetheless impressive as the seas around Antarctica are notorious for being violent and unruly. In addition to this, rowing a boat can be quite taxing as anyone who has ever done so for any length of time knows, be it five minutes or the four months it took Hicks to cross the Atlantic.
Zac Sunderland knows something about high seas adventure as well. While most teenagers fret about passing Biology or fending off a bad case of acne, the 16 year old Sunderland had larger fish to fry in trying to survive 15 foot seas and pirates in the Indian Ocean. Last week this young American became the first sailor under the age of 18, and the youngest ever, to circumnavigate the world solo. And while circumnavigation may be a large word, it does not begin to describe how massive a challenge going around the world in anything actually is.
Beyond the sheer size of the planet, 24,000 miles around when she’s sporting form fitting jeans, there are so many unpredictable hazards involved with circling the globe that courage surely must prove a fickle companion to those attempting it solo. Whether it be by airplane (American Wiley Post 1933), sailboat (Englishman Robin Knox Johnston 1968) or hot air balloon (American Steve Fossett 2002), being the first to go around the world alone in anything is beyond brave; but to do it as a 16 year old kid is altogether inspiring. Rumor has it Al Gore has found Zac’s story so inspirational he’s going to try to be the first to go around the world in a hybrid car, good luck Al.
Sailing aboard the 36 foot Intrepid, it took Sunderland 13 months to go from Marina del Ray back to Marina del Ray. His most harrowing moments came when he was forced to sail with busted mast rigging and a shaky radar, unfortunate events that forced him to go 60 hours without sleep. Remember this is a kid who should be more worried about getting his learner’s permit so he can drive grandma to the pharmacy instead of searching the ocean in pitch black darkness for cargo ships so massive they could have sliced the Intrepid in two like a warm stick of butter.
With stories like the wreck of the Titanic and those highlighting the horrible fate of the U.S.S. Indianapolis crew, the ocean has long been a point of romanticism and fascination. And while Deadliest Catch may go a long way in reminding us the open ocean and Mother Nature are both formidable foes, with all man has done to conquer the world he lives in, it is far too easy to forget the ocean itself is a mass of deadly potential.
Forget Shark Week on the Discovery Channel, from rogue waves to shifting winds or the tectonic activity that spawn deadly episodes like the tsunami of 2004 (estimated to have killed over 300,000 people), the ocean should strike awe and wonder in our hearts while also commanding our respect. So here’s to young Zac Sunderland and the optimistic Oliver Hicks, may yours be a journey appreciated by all.

A trip into the great unknown

First appeared on July 25th,
in The Lebanon Reporter

In sweeping the Washington Nationals in four games over the weekend the Chicago Cubs have come out of the All Star break firing on all cylinders. This of course comes as a punch in the gut for St. Louis Cardinals fans. Those who know baseball understand the rivalry between the Cubs and Cards is ugly and theirs is a dislike rooted historically, regionally and culturally.
The hatred for Cubs fans in St. Louis is legendary and the ability of Cards fans to heckle, harass and cut down anyone sporting Cub gear is well known throughout the baseball world. Stories of purported showers of stale beer, half eaten boxes of popcorn and vulgarities strike fear in the heart of Cubs fans in much the same way the prospect of a Joe Biden press conference makes Democrats jittery.
Cards fans are reportedly so skilled at making the lives of Cubs fans miserable that one is led to believe the entire city has received some type of formal training or attended a harassment seminar. And we’re not talking your run of the mill- Cubs fan:”Where’s the men’s room?” Busch Stadium Usher “Never heard of it” type of harassment. We’re talking about the no holds barred no family member or subject is off limits type of harassment.
With this in mind, one may feel somewhat sympathetic with yours truly knowing he ventured into Busch Stadium recently sporting what else but a Cubs hat. Of course had the Cards been playing the Cubs, solace surely would have surfaced by finding strength in numbers as Cubs fans notoriously travel well. Alas such was not the case as the Arizona Diamondbacks were in town; which of course made anyone wearing a random Cubs hat an easy target. Easy like fishing with dynamite or teaching a two legged dog to sit.
Unfortunately (or fortunately) the rumors proved to be mere over exaggerations and, as far as heckling goes, the night was pretty uneventful; the experience however was not.
For starters the new Busch Stadium (opened in 2006) is awesome. It probably goes without saying that anyplace that can boast fresh from the brewery Anheuser Busch products and a combination of a Hardees Monster thick-burger and Nathans Famous Hot Dogs all under the same roof is fairly dangerous to begin with. Toss in the modern conveniences of escalators, ATM’s, misting stations and a centerfield big screen large enough to double as a solar cover for Lake Michigan and the result is quite simply a wonderful ball park experience.
The structure is comprised of a stunning red brick which matches perfectly the rust colored turn of the century brewery works downtown. The main entrance and all light towers are rigged with ironwork in arch patterns designed to remind patrons of the historic Eads Bridge which spans the nearby Mississippi River. Between the brick and ironwork, the new Busch Stadium looks like something that fell out of some lost epoch of time before landing amidst the concrete and glass of a bustling modern city.
As if painted by hand, an inspirational view of downtown, including 2/3 of the Arch, hangs above the centerfield stands. The foul territory on both baselines is a vast expanse of grass and the quizzical placement of each bullpen gives the stadium the appearance of a massive waste of space considering the intimate quarters known as Wrigley Field holds nearly as many fans.
Despite this, with a capacity of nearly 44,000, chances are there is a good seat waiting for you in St. Louis and (Cubs fan or not) it is a seat I highly recommend you take.

For NBA roster keepers and jersey makers, the times they are a changin'

First appeared on July 15th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

In case your cable got shut off and the internet is still a passing fad to you, here’s a heads up- the NBA off season has been anything but uneventful. Normally we’re accustomed to seeing contenders standing pat as ownership is satisfied to let their rosters mature for another season in fine wine fashion. But just like the mercurial North Korean leader Kim Jung IL, this year has been ‘different’. With so many names being tossed around the time seems right to let the second guessing begin.
Though most will agree his recording a Michael Jackson tribute song was undoubtedly wrong, Ron Artest joining the Lakers is nothing but right. This becomes ‘nothing but right’ because the Purple and Gold have proven they’re the best team in basketball, so instead of simply repeating as champs (yawn), they’ve taken on the league’s heaviest albatross in an effort to prove Jackson and Kobe can win no matter what self-imposed stumbling block comes their way.
While Trevor Ariza and Hedo Turkoglu are both highly skilled in different ways, there is no doubting each has resigned himself to a meaningless future of used car lot appearances and early playoff exits. Ariza’s choice of Houston becomes all the more perplexing considering the heart of that Western Conference finalist appears to have been ripped out by Yao’s career-threatening broken size eighteen and a team MVP whose split for the bright lights of Hollywood (Artest).
Turkoglu flirted with Portland until Orlando got wind of it and, in a fit of rage typical of a jealous girlfriend, sent him packing via trade to Toronto. Much to the chagrin of Turkoglu’s agent, along with the moon, Toronto is apparently the one place every NBA player would just as soon retire before playing in.
Believe it or not, with Shaq in Cleveland there are still those who feel the Cavaliers are a championship favorite. Apparently the office Secret Santa hasn’t stuffed a company calendar in these people’s stockings recently because it is 2009 in the real world (not 1999). Shaq can still be a force but unfortunately he can’t solve all of Cleveland’s problems. He should fit in though because, just like the rest of the Cav’s roster outside of LeBron, O’Neal can’t face the basket and create his own shot.
Of course some moves have made total sense. San Antonio got much stronger by adding the one thing they needed most; youth. In drafting DeJuan Blair and trading for Richard Jefferson the Spurs got younger and quicker and, toss in some added playoff experience in Antonio McDyess, suddenly they have the recipe for a Western Conference Finals appearance.
The Celtics signing of Rasheed Wallace is especially sexy because anytime Wallace gets a whiff of a deep playoff run, his mouth and short fuse take a much welcomed backseat to his unparalleled talent. Although their window of opportunity isn’t exactly propped wide open, look for Boston to charge deep into the playoffs next season provided they have their health and Rondo at the wheel.
While the Pacers won’t contend, the move for defensive specialist Dahntay Jones is attractive nonetheless. As everyone is busy one-upping each other with glamorous signings, Larry and Co. are quietly building a solid foundation of character guys and proven winners. In drafting Tyler Hansbrough and signing Jones, the blue and gold have added two hard nosed players who are accustomed to winning (see North Carolina and Duke respectively).
So maybe when it comes to the 2009 NBA offseason Yogi Berra put it best, “If you don’t know where you are going, you’ll wind up somewhere else.”

A brief comparison of Hot Dogs and the NBA Draft

First appeared on July 8th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

It was high drama on our nation’s birthday as Americans swelled with great pride over one of our most cherished traditions. Breathless onlookers were left speechless after witnessing Joey Chesnut versus the Hot Dog. Stretching the physical limits of his own intestinal track, Chesnut inhaled 68 dogs in 10 minutes while besting former champ and Japanese cultural phenomenon Kobayashi.
What followers of the Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest may not realize is that former U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt actually served the same Nathan’s Famous Hot Dogs Chesnut and Kobayashi dueled with on Saturday to the King and Queen of England in 1939. OK-so hopefully they weren’t the exact same dogs.
Watching Chesnut’s impressive inhalation of encased meat (imagine a wood chipper without the mess) was strangely reminiscent of another champion. A few weeks ago the Indiana Pacers selected former North Carolina power forward Tyler Hansbrough with the 13th overall pick in the NBA draft. For those unfamiliar with his game, Hansbrough attacks loose balls, opponents and the basket in much the same way Joey Chesnut would likely go after a street vendor’s Hot Dog cart.
As to be expected Hansbrough’s selection stirred a hornet’s nest of frenzied naysayers and sportswriters who can’t find anything else to write about in July. Amongst the most popular jabs being lobbed by critics is that today’s NBA is about athleticism and Hansbrough doesn’t fit that mold. Let’s be honest Tyler Hansbrough doesn’t fit any mold. In what may be the most obvious statement of the year Hansbrough simply just knows how to play basketball. And after being a three time First Team All American and North Carolina’s all time leading scorer, it would be an understatement to say he’s pretty good too.
Casual fans and avid You Tubers alike probably remember Hansbrough best for his remarkable dunk over the 7 foot 7 UNC Asheville center Kenny George (You Tube it now if you haven’t seen it), and to be sure it was a play that would never had happened if Hansbrough were not “athletic”. Real Carolina fans, you know the ones who actually know what a Tarheel is and not those who surface after a Final Four run with a new hundred and fifty dollar Starter jacket, remember him as the player teammates dubbed “Psycho T” for his reckless abandon on the basketball court.
“He’s too small” is a classic cut many draft analysts use when their proverbial ‘this guy won’t pan out’ gun is out of bullets. At 6’9 Hansbrough is the same size as Karl Malone and five inches taller than Charles Barkley standing on a phone book. Not to mention, anybody who can grab over 1,000 rebounds in a collegiate career is without a doubt big enough to get the job done.
Simply put forget his lack of size and anything else the critics may vomit up like a bad truck stop omlet, this was the right pick for the Pacers because more than anything Tyler Hansbrough is a winner. He won back to back state titles as a high schooler in Missouri and of course there was that National Championship in college last year. The largest missing piece from the Pacer locker room right now seems to be the “losing is not in my vocabulary” mentality Hansbrough carries. The good news is Pacer fans can rest safe knowing he will bring his “dominate or bust” attitude to practice and pregame workouts, he will bring it to the court every night and, while on the road, safe money says he’ll bring it to the hotel’s continental breakfast as well.

The Most Frustrating Man in the World

first appeared on July 1st, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

When White Sox Shortstop Alexi Ramirez hit a run scoring single in the eighth inning of Saturday’s interleague game against the Cubs it marked the fourth blown save of the season for set up man Carlos Marmol. The hit was the beginning of a comeback that would help the Sox take two of three from the Cubs over the weekend. Marmol’s performance was a microcosm of the Cubs’ season. All year long the northisders have played well enough to win but by the time the Bleacher Bums have summoned the balance and concentration necessary to raise a celebratory toast, their team has somehow found a way to lose.
Marmol, a 27 year old right handed reliever who hails from the Dominican Republic, led the major leagues with 30 holds in 2008 and (despite a three week stretch in June when he appeared to be pitching with a blindfold on) threw like he was from another planet for most of last season. This year has been a completely different story for Marmol and all Cubs fans in general.
The Pitcher’s struggles are strangely reminiscent of the Dos Equis beer pitchman known as the “Most Interesting Man in the World” but instead of being interesting Marmol would definitley have to be the “Most Frustrating Man in the World”. In his first 8 innings of June Marmol surrendered 8 runs. Of course it goes without saying this is not good considering the expectation for a set up man is to preserve a team’s lead; a prerequisite of which would be to not give up any runs.
According to the commercials the Most Interesting Man in the World’s “reputation is expanding faster than the universe”. In Marmol’s case his reputation is without a doubt growing but it his ERA that is expanding faster than the universe. Much to the chagrin of Cubs fans and the Ice Road Truckers presumably, from 2007 to today the pitcher’s earned run average has mirrored ballooning gas prices as it has expanded from a rock solid 1.43 to a “soon to be greeting customers at Wal-Mart” 3.96.
The Most Interesting Man in the World “once had an awkward moment just to see how it feels”. Apparently in an effort to keep things interesting, Marmol once held a lead that was handed to him just to see how it feels. Of course we can’t hang all the Cubs’ troubles on The Most Frustrating Man in the World because that wouldn’t give me enough stuff to write about. Complimenting Marmol’s inconsistency well is the Cubs inability to hit or field like a major league team for most of the season. This is not to say they have not been worth the price of admission however. There have been exploding Gatorade machines, multiple live game balls tossed into the stands and witty barbs exchanged between members of the clubhouse that have served to keep things interesting.
So it goes for the Cubs as they limp towards the All Star break and a well earned chance to hole up and lick their wounds. There will be no part of this first half of the year worth remembering. Cubs historians will look back on this period and lament blown opportunities, blown saves and blown tops. Fortunately all that remains is 10 more games until we reach the second half. So can the Cubs pull things together and make a run for the playoffs or will their corpulent payroll and commonplace performance earn them the inauspicious title “New York Yankees of the National League”? We'll just have to wait and see, in the meantime-“stay thirsty my friends”.

Happy Fathers Day Lefty

First appeared on June 24th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

As I stood in the check out line waiting to buy my Dad another tie I found myself pondering Father’s Day gifts, that was after making up another zip code for the cashier of course (who knew it would wind up being Wilkes-Barre Pennsylvania, and further who could have known there would actually be another Eric Williams living there? Enjoy your Christmas catalog from Tie World Eric Williams of Wilkes Barre).
With the announcement that Phil Mickelson’s wife had been diagnosed with breast cancer, the smooth left hander definitely overcame mixed emotions by entering this year’s U.S. Open at New York’s Bethpage Black. When it was publicized that his wife said having the trophy in her hospital room during the cancer treatments would make life easier, of course any contemplation of this weekend’s performance had to take on another meaning altogether for Mickelson. Therefore on this Father’s Day, instead of receiving another tie or “World’s Most Incredible Golf Courses” calendar, Lefty found himself the one choosing a gift by giving his family something they would not soon forget.
It’s been well documented Mickelson has struggled in the U.S. Open (now 5 time runner up and never the champ which he would begrudgingly admit is a record) and don’t mistake this as someone piling on the same tired storyline, rather this is a celebration of the special moments Lefty provided for his family, friends and fans over the course of Sunday and Monday’s rain-forced final round.
Making things all the more interesting was that Mickelson’s nemesis, Tiger Woods, was a deflating 9 shots back and yet seemingly the top of the leader board always seemed within striking distance. Woods struggled to find his stroke all weekend and, just like the father of a newborn fumbling for a three a.m. diaper in a pitch dark nursery, he never seemed to be able to find it. Yet, try as he may, Lefty’s effort to capitalize on a great opportunity turned out to be in total vain by the end.
Four times the bridesmaid and never the bride, everything seemed TaylorMade for Phil’s first U.S. Open win and it would have likely been so had it not been for a pair of young players even Bob Costas had probably never heard of before. Evidently Ricky Barnes and Lucas Glover didn’t get the memo that it was Mickelson’s turn to wear the dress (OK, so maybe that doesn’t sound right but you get the idea). Barnes and Glover’s path to the top of the leaderboard is no more amazing for the sheer fact they weren’t invited to Bethpage and had to qualify instead. Even David Duval, who came in ranked almost dead last amongst the world’s professional golfers, had to be surprised these two were in the proverbial “Zone” for much of the weekend.
Despite coming up short again, for one moment in time Mickelson gave his family something money can’t buy. They were all firm believers in his dream of winning the Open. They were no doubt huddled on the left coast somewhere watching their father as he let it all ride in a valiant effort at winning (4 birdies out of the last 6 holes during his third round and eventually taking the lead in the final round after being 12 shots back earlier). Despite playing well enough to win, perhaps his coming up short is fitting. Don’t let Tiger Woods fool you, winning is never easy and one can only imagine the road ahead won’t be easy for Mickelson’s wife and her family either. This being said the Father’s Day gift Lefty gave his family will, if anything, surely provide them hope.

Jackson's coronation as Greatest Coach Ever will have to wait

First appeared on June 17th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Even though the Lakers have wrapped up their 15th World Championship as a franchise, a few unanswered questions linger in Lakerland. Burning issues every true purple Laker Lover longs to know like just how long will Pau Gasol’s victory ciesta last? Will Derek Fisher successfully lobby the league for the use of wheelchairs next season so he can keep running in those back-breaking shots we’ve grown so accustomed to seeing? Or, perhaps most complexing, is Phil Jackson the greatest NBA coach of all time or not?
Most experts agree Red Auerbach is the gold standard amongst professional basketball coaches (at least that was until about 10:39 EST Sunday night). The debate for who is most deserving of having “Greatest NBA Coach Ever” tattooed on their forearm Popeye style is complicated at best. Of course since Auerbach never coached a game in my lifetime, any argument I could make for or against him would be about as legitimate as say last week’s presidential elections in Iran. Of course being taken seriously has never been something we (myself and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad) have ever expected before so why start now?
The case for Jackson is strong. They say the worst players make the best coaches and Phil is living proof considering as a player he never led the league in anything except personal fouls. After cutting his coaching teeth with the Isabela Fighting Cocks in Puerto Rico, Jackson has come a long way. The Zen master has 10 titles with two different teams (this doesn’t count the CBA championship he helped the Albany Patroons stake their claim too either). Jackson’s winning percentage is above 70% and he’s likely coached three future Hall of Famers (four if you believe Scottie Pippen will get there and five if Dennis Rodman ever lives to see the day the Hall lets players vote themselves in).
In the opposing corner of this heavyweight bout to determine the greatest of all time is of course Red Auerbach. Coach of nine World Champions (all with Boston), his championship run included a record setting eight titles in a row and during his days on the bench Auerbach coached nine players who found their way to the Hall of Fame. Perhaps most impressive is that four of his former players went on to win championships of their own as coaches. While he made a name for himself smoking victory cigars, Auerbach is also credited with helping to break the color barrier in the NBA by selecting the first African American draft choice in league history.
Debating the two is pointless at best. The NBA of today and the one Beaver Cleaver followed in the 1950’s are eons apart (and by eons we mean A LOT). Between the 24 second clock, free agency, dramatic increases in both the size of the league, size of it’s players, size of it’s fan base and conversely the size of it’s pay scale, all make debating Jackson versus Auerbach a fruitless endeavor; one akin to arguing over the greatest U.S. President.
The easiest solution would be to simply dynamite and chisel a Mt. Rushmore of coaches and call it a day. Jackson and Auerbach would no doubt be the first choices, the equivalent of Washington and Jefferson. Lincoln is another obvious choice so let’s throw Lenny Wilkens (most coaching wins in NBA history) up there too. That leaves the final choice that has baffled so many a schoolboy for so long- Teddy Roosevelt? Who would be the closest thing to a rough-riding, trust-busting coach the league has ever seen? Best we leave that one open to debate.

Welcome to the Finals Stan

First appeared on June 9th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

It’s time to shut down all this talk about the NBA playoffs being rigged. Everybody (except Orlando Magic fans I’m assuming) wanted Kobe and LeBron in the Finals. David Stern wanted it, Kobe and LeBron wanted it, evidently Kim Jung IL wanted it too for as soon as the Cavaliers were eliminated he crawled back into his sandbox and started playing with his missiles again.
In lieu of a sexy Kobe and LeBron match up we have Stan Van Gundy. This alone should be proof enough the playoffs are not rigged. This is the Finals. You know the place where bright lights showcase Jack and his Wayfarers, the Laker Girls and Stan Van Gundy?
Outside of Donald Sutherland’s hats, Van Gundy is the oddest thing to hit the Finals since Dennis Rodman. Sporting a mustache reminiscent of some 70’s detective show his black T-shirt and dinner jacket fail miserably in masking the coach’s dumpy frame. In fact Van Gundy looks like someone who’d have been booed off stage after trying to play his Tuba on the Gong Show. But the guy can flat out coach. Against all conventional wisdom, he has taken a cast of guys other franchises gave up on and managed to worm his way to the Finals despite the alleged small market conspiracy.
While he may dress like the manager of a movie theatre, Van Gundy has gotten something out of Hedo Turkoglu both Sacramento and San Antonio couldn’t. The Turkish born forward’s numbers are up in almost every statistical category and, after stellar performances in these playoffs, he’s making a name for himself as a big stage player.
While some coaches sport suits tailored by Armani or Perry Ellis, Van Gundy’s wardrobe appears to be sponsored by a community yard sale. Despite this, Mickael Pietrus has found success under the coach’s tutelage. Coming over from France riding a wave of hype the guard found rough sledding in Golden State but, after signing with Orlando in the off season, Pietrus is suddenly a name NBA Scouts know how to spell.
With the media flooding Kobe Bryant for quotes and quips, the only calls Van Gundy is fielding these days are from Don Johnson saying he wants his look back. All things considered he’s lucky to be in the Finals at all. In 2005 his mentor Pat Riley allegedly forced him out of Miami. After watching Riles win a title, Van Gundy turned down the Pacers job because it looked like Orlando wanted him; then Billy Donovan happened. It fell to Van Gundy only after Donovan went all “Brett Favre” and changed his mind returning instead to the Florida Gators.
The man Shaquille O’Neal once called the “Master of Panic” due to a compulsion for wilting under the intense pressure of playoff basketball has made strides in putting an end to all that talk. Still Van Gundy remains an island in an ocean of player’s coaches. He’s one of the last old school- in your face- screamers. You know the type; that Little League coach who berates the 13 year old umpire.
Still Van Gundy has shown he’s not entirely an old dog at heart. After Dwight Howard was openly critical of him following their game five loss to Boston, it looked like the Magic were Chernobyl bound, but somehow Van Gundy found a way to spin it into a motivational tool. While their odds at winning the Finals are long, whatever Van Gundy did to save the Magic season has to be fodder for a great book. A great book that shouldn’t be judged by the cover.

If Gatorade Machines could Talk

First appeared on June 3rd, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

Dear Chicago Cubs,
This is your dugout Gatorade Machine. Why do you hate me? I’m your biggest fan. Come rain or shine, through the misery of six 1 run losses, I’ve been here every night on the bench to support you and what thanks do I get? First Ryan Dempster (Lemon-Lime) puts a huge dent in my forehead with his fist then Carlos Zambrano (Orange) lays in to me with a bat?
I mean Zambrano? Seriously, is this really a fair fight? Big Z is pushing 300 pounds and I’m an inanimate object (that means I can’t move). It is a scientifically proven fact a bat wielding Zambrano charging at full speed can generate more momentum than a LeCar carrying Ruben Studdard, Ruben Studdard’s band, all their instruments, his background singers, the roadies and all three of his fans. I mean, seriously Zambrano’s so enormous if he was Alonzo Mournings leg, I’d be Jeff Van Gundy for crying out loud.
Could I really have anything to do with the fact that you have only won 4 of your last 14 games? I’m not the unlucky one, let’s just continue to hang that on the cat and the goat. It’s evident I’ve done my job dispensing multiple varieties of delicious drinks (orange, lemon-lime and water) at the perfect temperature, I mean last I checked no Cubs have went on the DL for dehydration for crying out loud. And what do I have to show for it? I’ve had my head pounded in twice and, to make things worse, Dempster wants to whine about having a blister on his pitching hand? He should try hitting his spots with a collapsed face.
Surely Lou Piniella (Water) doesn’t think I’m to blame. He has the 3rd highest payroll in all the majors at his disposal and yet you guys are currently last in hits and 12th in runs scored amongst teams in the National League. How can you point an angry finger at me when your batters are ranked 5th in the league in strike outs and your pitchers are near the bottom in most earned runs allowed?
I’ve heard the whispers; Pepsi machine, mini-fridge- you should show me some respect. I am a state of the art drink dispenser. In case you aren’t aware, I come from a very proud pedigree. Perhaps you’ve heard of my grandfather; the Gatorade water cooler? Of course you know him, he’s had more Super Bowl exposure than Janet Jackson. Most recognize the long-standing tradition of him getting dumped on the heads of coaches after they win (he hates that by the way). Well I may not be my grandfather, but I still command respect.
Look I know all about the 100 years deal. I know you have an enormous payroll and yet are still hovering around .500 for the season. The bottom line is the baseball season is a marathon, not a sprint. Maybe what you need is a break, there’s still plenty of time for you to right the ship. In the meantime I’ll be right here on the bench where all your desires are only a push-button away. So why don’t you pour yourself a cup, grab some braunschweiger and a seat on the bench next to me and sit this one out. Or, if you are Carlos Zambrano, sit the next six out.

Your Friend,

The Dugout Gatorade Machine

P.S. Do you know how many All Sport machines it takes to screw in a light bulb?