A brief, yet obligatory, look at the World Cup

First appeared on June 16th, 2010
in The Lebanon Reporter

There is a little known statute in the Part-time Sports Columnists code book. Rule #684.A states “When the World Cup comes, those pretending to be sports columnists shall cover it whether or not they know anything at all about soccer.”


So the World Cup is here. Evidently this only happens every 4 years and it is like a really big deal in places that don’t have professional basketball, football and baseball teams to follow or neighborhoods with organized euchre leagues. Before writing this the only thing I knew about soccer was Pele must have been pretty good, and for some reason Brandi Chastain’s name rings a bell. Doing some research in an effort to sound informed I discovered on Wikipedia that Michael Jordan is considered one of the greatest soccer players ever and the 2014 World Cup will be held in Horseshoe Bend, Arkansas.

A carnival of color and noise, the Cup is a seemingly endless parade of one obscure country after another, each awaiting their chance to get pounded by either Brazil or Italy. If anything the World Cup serves as a reminder to us all that we should have paid more attention in geography class.

There are around 200 nations on Earth and it appears as though they are all currently playing in Johannesburg. Heck until sixth grade, I didn’t even know the world had any other countries besides the U.S., Russia and Great Britain or England or the United Kingdom or whatever they want us to call them today.

Divided into 8 groups, 32 total teams qualified to play in Johannesburg. Both the Koreas made it, which should prove interesting if they meet up because it could mark the first time a World Cup match results in a nuclear war.

A notorious traveler, rumor has it the Stanley Cup made an appearance for the opening match. With all the hullaballoo in the states over the NCAA power conferences devouring each other, one can’t help but wonder if E Harmony brought the Stanley Cup and World Cup together, would the result be a sippie cup?

Unthrilling is the only word I can make up to describe how disappointing Friday’s opening match was (South Africa and Mexico finished in a 1-1 tie). As we find ourselves buried under an avalanche of scoreless minutes and cheap plastic noisemakers, the demands of Argentina’s manager Diego Maradona provide some hope for entertainment. Aside from wanting ice cream to be available all day long in his hotel, Maradona also requested a toilet with a heated seat be installed for him. Telling you he wears two watches is probably all the explanation that is required here.

ESPN spent millions trying to make this thing sound exciting only to have the opening match end in a melodramatic tie. Compounding matters one of the most anticipated match-ups (USA v. England) wound up a tie as well. Trying to get American consumers to buy in to all this indecisiveness won’t help soccer’s cause any. American’s like winners. We like to brag and boast and drag losers through the mud and then rub their faces in it. It’s the American way.

Drama is brewing however. Slovenia has taken Group C by storm charging out to a 3-1 lead over both the United States and England. Friday’s match up pitting Slovenia against the United States could go a long way in determining the fate of the Americans chances at playing for the Cup. If it’s a prediction you’re looking for, I probably have as much of chance picking the winner as you have of finding Slovenia on a map.

Rondo runs over "Ghosts of Showtime Past" in key Game 2 win

First appeared on June 8th, 2010
in The Lebanon Reporter

In case you missed it Sunday night, the Boston Celtics rose from the dead to grab control of a Finals series so many had handed to the Lakers. We say “rose from the dead” because the Celtics were conveniently old again after their Game 1 loss. Well somebody call the marketing department at Geritol because Boston has split the series and now has a chance to win the whole thing at home.


So many agreed Los Angeles appeared to have this thing wrapped up. Game 1 was a complete and utter disaster for Boston. The Lakers appeared unbeatable while the Celtics appeared ready for assisted living. It was as if the “Ghosts of Showtime past” had paid the Lakers a visit prior to Game 1 because Los Angeles didn’t just play like they were the best team in the league, they played like they were the best team in league history. The stat sheet was stained Laker purple as Los Angeles won all the key areas: Rebounding, field goal %, three point %, three pointers made, steals, blocked shots and points (Somewhat obvious, I know).

Simply put the Lakers dominated. They looked to be insurmountable, unhittable, literally capable of anything. This includes throwing a perfect game officiated by Major League Umpires.

But then Game 2 happened. Ray Allen jumped in the way back machine and played like it was 2002 again. After scoring 12 points on just 8 field goal attempts in Game 1, Allen bounced back with a sizzling performance in Game 2. This included 8 of 10 from three point range as the nine time All Star scored 27 points in the first half alone. In a little over three days Boston fans went from scrambling for the life boats to placing mass champagne and cigar orders from Celebrations.com.

As great as Allen was, Rajon Rondo is still everything to Boston. The wind in their sails, the gas in their engine, the Rusty Crawdad Clackin’ Rap in their tackle box; however you put it Boston is only going as far as this kid can take them. Sunday night was a perfect example of how dominating the 6’1 Rondo can be as his line read 19 points, 12 rebounds and 10 assists.

The 24 year old point guard’s performance becomes magnified as Superstar Kevin Garnett is nearing the end of his career and playing like he’s already retired. Ron Artest took the “Greatest living Celtic in waiting” (Paul Pierce) out of Game 2 and as far as Boston’s bench goes, all Rasheed Wallace can do now is argue calls and hit the occasional 3 pointer (wait that’s all he’s ever done).

Now, ironically, the only long faces in this series are found in the plastic surgery capital of the world. Fans in Lakerland are especially nervous considering the NBA’s goofy 2-3-2 format. This means Boston controls everything. If the C’s play their cards right the only reason they will go back to Los Angeles this summer will be for a vacation or to shoot an “I’m going to Disneyworld” commercial.

Conspiracy theorists were out en masse Monday claiming the NBA wanted a split series. And, while I’ll admit four of Kobe Bryant’s fouls were strange in a “Tim Donaghy” sort of way, I think the last thing the NBA wants right now is to get caught staging more games. As crafty as officials can be however, they aren’t the ones who had 28 assists. This was a product of the Celtics playing as a team. A performance that no doubt had Red Auerbach and John Wooden both smiling somewhere.

Here we go again; for the 12th time

First appeared on June 3rd, 2010
in The Lebanon Reporter

The United States and Iran refuse to negotiate, a deadly plane crash in Poland, Israel and Palestine suffer another ugly setback and the Lakers and Celtics are in the NBA Finals. This may all sound familiar to those of us who attempt to monitor world events while paying bills, raising our families and eating the occasional piece of apple pie.


Strange but true, while all these stories have happened this year, for our

purposes here they were ripped from the headlines of 1987. Funny how things change and yet stay the same. While the Lakers and Celtics may be making a return to basketball’s biggest stage, thankfully the “Kurt Rambis look”, Magic Johnson’s shorts and Larry Bird’s bad mustache will not.

The 1987 Finals were likely the high-water mark of the Bird vs. Magic era for it was only a year later we saw the face of the NBA change as the Detroit Pistons killed the fast break by tripping, choking and elbowing their way to the Finals.

For me personally the memories of the 1987 Finals are clear. Dick Stockton was repeatedly muttering about how hot it was in the Boston Garden and I can still hear the disgust in Tom Heinsohn’s voice as his beloved Celtics collapsed in six games under a barrage of sky hooks and no- look passes.

But this is 2010 and these aren’t your grandpa’s Lakers and Celtics. Today “Showtime” in L.A. means Kobe is about to take over. Phil Jackson starts two seven footers and has a 6’10 point guard if he needs one. The Lakers led the ultra-competitive Western Conference with 57 wins and also have the league’s third leading scorer in Kobe Bryant.

In 1987 Boston was a number 1 seed and fielded a roster that included 5 future Hall of Famers. The 2010 Celtics are much different. They weren’t even supposed to be here. This was the year LeBron was supposed to get Cleveland to the promise land before bolting for greener (literally) pastures.

Still the Celtics somehow appear a likely favorite. If you’re looking for rationale, I’ll be the first to admit Boston doesn’t look good on paper. They lack gaudy statistics and a coach who is considered the modern day version of Red Auerbach. What Boston does have however is something the average NBA stat geek can’t measure. They are a team fueled by their own heart and toughness and this is what will carry them through the Finals.

In order to win the series however Boston will need to steal a game in L.A. and history has shown the easiest to grab is Game 1. Thursday night Boston needs to hit the floor like a herd of bulls tearing down a Pamplona street. Head Coach Doc Rivers should show a replay of Game 6 of the 2008 NBA Finals when his Celtics clinched the title by drumming the Lakers by 39 points.

Conversely, Jackson would be well served to do the same. It could be argued that singular loss was the impetus behind the Lakers putting their full faith in Kobe and Kobe putting his full faith in his Jackson. All this faith finding of course culminated in a run that saw the Lakers capture the championship a year later.

Thursday night will mark the 12th time these two have met in the Finals and together they have won a disgusting 32 of the 63 NBA Titles. The faces on the floor and in the stands may be different, but history is there looming large over the Finals. Funny how things change and yet stay the same.

The real truth is Mount Everest wasn't meant to be climbed by all of us

First appeared on May 27th, 2010
in the Lebanon Reporter

It was under an ocean blue June sky that George Mallory and Andrew Irvine set off for the summit of Mount Everest. After sharing a breakfast of tinned sardines at some 23,000 feet above sea level, they left their camp on the North Col to chase history in an attempt at becoming the first to climb the world’s highest mountain. Unfortunately that was the last day anybody would ever see them alive.


A former collegiate oarsman, at 38 Mallory was an explorer with great experience. So much so he was considered one of England’s top climbers. Irvine was a renowned oxygen expert who was brought along to increase Mallory’s odds at making history. Tragically somewhere between their camp and the roof of the world a snow squall whipped up and the two men were blown off the mountain. Their bodies would lie frozen in the snow and undiscovered for 75 years.

The crown jewel of the Himalaya range, at over 29,000 feet Everest is the world’s highest point. Straddling the border between China and Nepal, the Himalaya is home to 9 of the world’s 10 highest peaks. Explorers in the early 1900’s referred to Everest as the “third pole” because all the other remote points of the world had already been conquered.

Every bit mysterious as dangerous, Everest has tempted the fate of many an explorer for over 200 years. It’s generally accepted the climbing mantra “because it’s there” was quipped by Mallory when a reporter asked him why he was so determined to climb the world’s highest peak.

Though over 3000 have accomplished it, modern records estimate somewhere around 1 in 10 climbers who attempt to summit Everest die trying. The altitude alone can be maddening. Couple this with the fact that it was possible for Mallory and Irvine’s bodies to remain undiscovered for over 70 years and you gain an understanding for how inaccessible and difficult the terrain surrounding Everest is.

With this in mind, it becomes all the more fascinatingly inspiring (or defeating for those of us who suddenly find our lives a duller shade of vanilla) to find out that last week a 13 year old Californian boy became the youngest person to climb Mount Everest.

Avalanches, crevasses, 125 MPH winds and oxygen deprivation are not the normal pitfalls we typically find 13 year olds navigating. Evidently for Jordan Romero hormones, acne and homework are simply not challenging enough.

Romero joins the ranks of other recent adolescent American heroes like Zac Sunderland of solo-circumnavigation fame and the E*TRADE baby. It all has me wondering if it’s completely normal for someone to view a story like Romero’s and feel as if your own life is falling short. I’m hoping the answer is yes. What-it-costs.com estimates the cost of climbing Everest to be somewhere around $100,000. With this in mind, and speaking as someone who cut their mountaineering teeth climbing the monkey bars and apple trees, the next best move might be a road trip to the Indiana Dunes.

While Romero pursues his own dream of climbing the Seven Summits (7 highest points on each continent), it may be more prudent for the rest of us to reach for something more economical. Perhaps finding our way to the highest point in each Indiana County makes more sense.

This isn’t meant to diminish what Romero accomplished. I’m not sure that’s even possible. It is meant however to be a reminder that life is short and the world is large. So put down the potato chips, throw caution to the wind and go do whatever it was you dreamt of doing at age 13.

This is the Year Cubs Fans, the year to wait....

First appeared on May 18th, 2010
in The Lebanon Reporter

With a final score of 4-3, the Cubs won Sunday. Other than cashing in a huge Powerball ticket or having the boss tell you to take the rest of the week off with pay, is there really a better way to start ones week? When the Cubs win on a Sunday the air just seems fresher, the flowers smell sweeter and the kids who ride their bikes in front of your car in the street are somehow less annoying. What’s that you say? Oh, their 6 games under .500 and 5 games out in the Central?


It’s hard to figure these guys out. Two years ago they supposedly wilted under the pressure of too many expectations, what with the whole 100 year anniversary deal. But this year, with absolutely no expectations, they are somehow wilting again; already. And it’s only May. This is not what they’re supposed to do. They are not supposed to be Completely Useless By September, until September.

History has shown the franchise should make a move. Fire somebody. Trade somebody. Shake things up. This has become the vogue thing to do in professional sports when the natives are restless. Standard operating procedure for the talking heads when they have absolutely no other answers.

But if Alfonso Soriano is any guide, perhaps the best thing for the Cubs brass to do now is simply wait. For two years now Soriano has been riding a roller coaster of favor with Cubs fans. His streaky power trips, magnet-like attraction for any pitch in the dirt and frighteningly minor league-like misadventures in the field have made him the target of much booing, beer tossing and cursing.

But don’t look now, just when so many Wrigley regulars were ready to pay for his plane ticket back to the Dominican, Soriano is surging. His .331 batting average, 7 homers and 23 runs batted in are second only on the team to free agent signee Marlon Byrd. Also at over .600 Soriano’s slugging percentage currently ranks 3rd in the league and, perhaps most unexpected of all, he does not lead Cubs hitters in strike outs.

Give Lou Piniella some credit. While he has made Fonzi play musical chairs in the batting order, the Cubs skipper has stuck by Soriano while so many others were in the streets burning his bobble-head dolls in effigy. Somehow General Manager Jim Hendry must let Piniella’s patience be the guide by which he conducts himself. This is the year after all. The year to wait.

So what’s the message here? Cubs fans need to find some way to wait this thing out. Give these guys two weeks. Take up needlepoint, read War and Peace or host a James Cameron movie marathon; whatever you need to do to waste two weeks just do it. Because after the next two weeks we will probably know what the season holds.

The next four series alone could likely spell the fate of the Cubs season. For, after they finish with Colorado at home, the next four teams they play all have winning records and two are division leaders (at Texas and at Philadelphia). We will either see the Cubs get buried under a hurricane of home runs and bungled ground balls or maybe, just maybe we will finally see some consistently inspired play.

I think we all know what Piniella’s rooting for. Because it’s almost academic at this point, if the Cubs lose badly over the next two weeks, Jim Hendry will likely be the one telling Lou to take the rest of the season off.

Happy Mothers Day Matt Painter

First appeared on May 12th, 2010
in The Lebanon Reporter

Happy Cinco De Mayo Matt Painter. Happy National Hamburger Month, happy National Duckling Month and happy Strawberry Month too. May 14th is National Dance Like a Chicken Day and, while I’m fairly certain Coach Painter has never done so before, there’s definitely good reason to celebrate it this year.


I’m fairly certain Purdue Boilermakers E’Twuan Moore and JaJuan Johnson gave their coach the greatest Mother’s Day gift he’s ever received when they announced late last week they would be returning to West Lafayette for another season.

Of course this decision once again unites Moore and Johnson with star forward Robbie Hummel, who was lost to a knee injury in 2010. Combine these three with a fully healthy Lewis Jackson and Purdue should find themselves ranked near the top of the preseason polls again next season. Beyond this they will be a clear favorite of many to win it all in Houston next year.

Perhaps the only guy more shocked than Painter last week was the loser who ran out onto the field in Philadelphia during a Phillies game. After all, in the course of less than 3 months Painter went from having a national title contender to having the scorched skeleton of said contender to, after Moore and Johnson’s decision to withdraw their names from the draft, once again being a favorite to win it all.

I’ll be the first to say the NBA’s draft policy is awkward, but players having the ability to change their minds and return is the only part of it that works properly. So, in this one instance, the system worked.

Maybe saying its awkward is harsh. Maybe it’s just my selfish side that wants to see the Butler’s of the world have a player like Gordon Hayward for another year. Maybe it’s just my jealous side that doesn’t want to see another 19 year old make more money with the stroke of a pen than my family will see in generations.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to propose any grandiose solutions; I just like to whine. But the truth is the credibility of college basketball itself is rapidly eroding as top tier kids continually choose the same 3-4 schools every year only to leave a season later.

One simple solution would be to make these 3-4 college teams a separate developmental league for the NBA (because this is basically what they already are). But that’s fairly obvious and not the way the NCAA or NBA tend to do things.

Over the course of the last 20 years college sports has gone from a great way for talented athletes to ensure a future for themselves to becoming the 800 pound gorilla in the room. Nobody wants to talk about it, but everybody knows what’s going on.

Laugh if you will. Scoff if you must. Use me to line your bird cage or wad me up and stuff me in a coffee mug if you’re moving; but if you think classes are being attended and passed at most of these places I’ve got some fascinating Bigfoot memorabilia you might be interested in.

If you want the real truth I can’t provide it. If you don’t mind the truth as I see it, then there is no easy solution. This problem is bigger than me and you. It’s bigger than the Staples’ Easy Button and it’s bigger than society itself (Pretty deep I know). The point is forget about solving the world’s problems Purdue Fans, now is a time to celebrate. Yes, the time has come to dance like a chicken with Matt Painter.

Playoffs leaving fans neither shaken nor stirred

First appeared on May 5th, 2010
in The Lebanon Reporter

If watching G4’s Bond marathon entitled “Movies that don’t suck” taught me anything it’s that, even though I’ve seen them all before, Bond repeats are still more exciting than this year’s NBA playoffs. Though I discovered for the first time this year how exceptionally bad the writing is, the unpredictable chase scenes, gadgets and Bond Girls make them worth whatever ridiculous amount of money they cost to make 30 years ago.


The real question here is why can’t the NBA put together playoff matchups that “don’t suck”? So far, Lakers and Thunder excluded, the playoffs have been pretty much an over-officiated, uninspiring snoozefest. Yes Atlanta and Milwaukee went 7, but somehow it’s still been unexciting. To make things worse the Mavericks are gone which means there aren’t any ‘bust your checkbook out referee inspired verbal tongue lashings’ to look forward to from Mavs owner Mark Cuban. Basketball aside, at least he found creatively expensive ways to make the postseason interesting.

Maybe I’m just cranky or maybe I’ve still got a hangover from the sensational NCAA Men’s Tournament we saw this year, either way the NBA Playoffs did little to tug me away from the Bond Marathon. Not to mention the games are on so many different channels you need the standard issue radio directional finder Bond used in “Octopussy” just to find them.

Drama appeared momentarily when OKC almost beat LA. It would have happened had head coach Scott Brooks been sporting a pocket protector loaded with pens capable of shooting poison darts; or had Kevin Durant’s sneakers been equipped with an oil slick switch which, after watching 4 straight Bond flicks , is apparently standard issue on all 007 vehicles. But alas Q evidently did not have time to get the Thunder prepared and by Saturday they were home watching the same G4 marathon I was.

The Eastern Conference is worse. Watching the Cavaliers play is about as exciting as watching Timothy Daulton butcher the Bond name. Outside of not going with a stunt double for Jack Nicholson’s hot tub scene in “About Schmidt”, allowing Daulton to play Bond has to be the worst casting job in Hollywood history.

Saturday I was momentarily interested, but only while marveling at how eerily similar Cavalier’s big man Zydrunas Ilgauskas looks to the 6’6 Frankenstein-like villain known as Jaws; a.k.a. the guy who tried to choke Bond to death in “Moonraker”. Though Ilgauskas can stick a 20 foot jumper from the wing, he cannot bring the same excitement Jaws did when using his steel plated Dentures to sever the 3 inch thick cable suspending Bond’s tramcar over Rio De Janerio.

The second round doesn’t look much better. Watching Phoenix play is exciting, almost as good as Pierce Brosnan’s remote control car scene in “Tomorrow Never Dies”, but unfortunately they’ll face San Antonio. While unquestionable Champions, for professional athletes, it’s still amazing how slow San Antonio can make NBA play look.

The only hope David Stern has now is to turn to Moneypenny for some sage advice or find a way to have the Suns play themselves for the NBA Finals. If the latter works, the basketball world will find the entertainment they are starving for and Steve Nash can finally stick a “Goldfinger” in the eye of those who say defense wins championships. Any other scenario will likely result in a fiery, ultra-expensive crash scene so catastrophic even 007 himself, let alone the NBA, can’t survive. I’m picturing Bond driving a Venetian gondola through a Beijing street clogged with rickshaws while the bad guys are chasing after him on rocket powered snowskis.