There were a lot of things going on in the last few days/week or so that I just wanted to hit on briefly:
The BCS(hank) Redemption
The BCS has finally come to terms with the necessity that is a playoff for college football. This should be interesting, especially the two years in between the vote and actual implementation. I hope that a team doesn't get screwed out of a chance to prove themselves just because their timing was off by a year. Eventually, I'd like to see 8 or 16 teams, but I realize this won't occur anytime soon. Mostly, I just want any undefeated Division I-A school to have a chance at a national title, just like in every other collegiate sport. That's all I've ever asked of football. I hope this solution provides closure.
Showing posts with label General. Show all posts
Showing posts with label General. Show all posts
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
What Now for the NBA?
David Stern (DS) : Alright guys, we rode the "LeBron doesn't have a ring yet so you should keep watching to see if he gets one" story line as long as we could. We bribed the Cleveland front office for 6 years to avoid talented free agents and make terrible draft picks. We planted the idea of a super team in the minds of Dwyane Wade and several of LeBron's "friends". Now that he's "redeemed" himself, we need a new angle. What do you got?
Friday, June 1, 2012
Baseball's Greatest Rarity
In Major League Baseball's treasured "modern" history (1900 and after), numbers are everything.
A player has hit for the cycle 293 times.
There have been 272 no-hitters throw in major league history. (Sorry Justin Verlander, you were just short of 273.)
A pitcher has thrown an "immaculate inning" (3 strikeouts in 9 pitches) only 45 times. (Some bizarre people on this list.)
Pitchers have combined for only 19 perfect games. (Phil Humber most recently.)
After Josh Hamilton obliterated the Orioles, only 16 players had 4 home runs in a single game.
Only 15 fielders have turned unassisted triple plays (twice it ended a game, once it happened in the World Series).
A miniscule 13 sluggers have hit two grand slams in a single game. (Fernando Tatis did it in an inning.)
These are incredibly rare historical feats. Their scarcity is reflected in the numbers. Let me drop an even rarer number on you. Something currently more rare than unassisted triple plays and four homer games.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Ratemyteammates.com
A few years ago, back in my college days, I overheard some fellow freshman muttering in the cafeteria about the professor of their physics class. After a few choice words were said about the aforementioned professor's teaching techniques, one my peers stated defiantly, "Let's take him down on rate my professors dot com!"
I had heard rumblings of such a site but never really felt the need to use it. My professors were either pretty chill, pretty funny, or just so mediocre I had no need to rate them one way or the other. But a few weeks ago, after listening to a discussion on some sporting radio program about team chemistry, a thought struck me.
What if there was a website where athletes could post anonymously about their teammates, rating them on a scale and discussing them and how they performed as a teammate, not only considering their athletic skills but their overall effects on the team's physical, mental, and emotional state?
I had heard rumblings of such a site but never really felt the need to use it. My professors were either pretty chill, pretty funny, or just so mediocre I had no need to rate them one way or the other. But a few weeks ago, after listening to a discussion on some sporting radio program about team chemistry, a thought struck me.
What if there was a website where athletes could post anonymously about their teammates, rating them on a scale and discussing them and how they performed as a teammate, not only considering their athletic skills but their overall effects on the team's physical, mental, and emotional state?
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
The Few, The Proud, The Lifers
They are the ones who stayed. They are those who have known one city, one fanbase, and one arena (usually) as home in their professional careers. In today's sports' world, full of greed, free agency, and egotistical athletes who insist on clashing with their coaches, GMs, or fellow players, constant movement from one franchise to the next is considered the norm rather than the exception. The exception now is staying with a team for one's entire career. In fact, it's a down-right rarity. So this post is dedicated to those players whether they fought to stay with their team or because circumstances allowed them to.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Hey I Made It, I'm the World's Greatest
All we ever do in sports is rank things. The best pitchers of the 1960s (#1 Bob Gibson), the best dynasties in college football (obviously the 1930s Golden Gophers), and the greatest sports moments in 1985 (who knows, I'm making this stuff up off the top of my head). We make top ten lists, we argue who belongs where, we use statistics to back up our amateur analysis, and we feel indignant when someone disagrees. The internet has only made it worse with idiot bloggers who think they know something about everything, making mundane posts about pointless topics and self-serving rankings of the most unimportant things.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The Minnesota Misery
Bill Simmons loves to talk about tortured fan bases and franchises. It's actually really interesting to fully immerse yourself in the history of other cities and franchises. You begin to understand how lucky you are if you happened to have been a fan of a championship team. I consider myself lucky to be a fan of two champions: the 2000 Super Bowl Champion Rams (the most fun I've ever had watching a team and probably one of the most fun teams to watch ever) and the 2006 World Series Champion Cardinals (my favorite team on top of the world). Seeing a team raise its sports' respective trophy above their head in absurd jubilation is one of the best feelings a sports fan can ever have. It is the ultimate prize in fandom.
But there are some who have never felt the glory, or at least haven't for a generation (or two or three). There's Buffalo (1965) and Cleveland (1964) and Seattle (never). That's right, Buffalo's two teams haven't won a championship since the Bills won one before the Super Bowl existed, Cleveland's three teams have had a similar streak of futility, and Seattle has lost a franchise to a prairie town and never won any kind of professional championship. Those are definitely the three cities (if we are talking about sports cities, which we are) that currently should top the tortured list.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
When In Doubt, Root For History
Not long ago Mark and I stirred the pot with a “Rules of Fandom” podcast. If you weren’t listening we basically gave our arrogant opinions on who people should be “allowed” to be a fan of. In short, if you’re born in a city, then that city’s professional sports team is yours. No hopping on or off any other teams, unless you want to become a bandwagoner and be outcast from society…or just from Mark and I. As usual it was a complicated and controversial subject that actually got more than 2 comments. Now I’m not here to get in that whole debate again, but the subject happened to creep into mind yet again due to the U.S. Open.
How so? Well that requires some background information. I’ve been a fan of Tiger Woods since I really got into golf, probably around 2006. Naturally your next question is why? If you’re gonna have all these crazy “rules” then how does an individualistic sport like golf work? In my opinion, as long as when asked “why do you like _____?” you have a well-thought out answer. For me, when it came to Tiger, he was smooth. Of course he won and was better than everyone else, but if asked that question I would have probably said something like, “his swing is aesthetically pleasing to watch, drama and excitement follow him wherever he goes, he’s humble, great with the media, from the U.S., and is well on his way towards the Golden Bear’s record.”
Now everyone and their mother knows that Tiger’s in a bit of a different situation these days. That 2009 November night changed people’s perceptions of Tiger, his golf game, and possibly his chances of reaching Jack’s record. However I still am a fan of Tiger. I have no problem with people hopping off the train because of character/moral values, but to me Tiger is still all that is golf. I have his best interests in mind and pull for a Woods victory in all Majors and rare non-Major tournaments he’s in. I even put him my fantasy lineup more than I should (yes fantasy golf is just as fun as baseball or football).
Rory McIlroy is a different story. Rory is a 22-year-old Northern Irishman that has rubbed me the wrong way since he began his rise in 2009. Why? He seemed cocky and arrogant when he first began playing. He was anointed the next upcoming star before he took a shot. He’s had Tiger comparisons after a few good outings. He’s from Europe. He has weird hair. He struts and walks like there are mini trampolines on his shoes. And he’s 22 while I’m 19, I’m straight up jealous of his skills and place in life compared to mine when we’re 3 years off, that’s right I’m not ashamed to admit it. Now you don’t have to agree with those opinions or even respect them. But know I cheer against Rory in order to cheer for Tiger. Rory winning one Major makes me worried that it’s one closer to Tiger. I’m not stupid, I know McIlroy has potential and is a great golfer.
So herein lies the problem, here is why the Rules of Fandom have resurfaced again. When in doubt, I root for history. I want to see history unfold in front of my eyes. I want to see Roy Halladay throw a perfect game in the playoffs. I want to see the historic Lakers vs Celtics matchup. I want to see Federer set the all-time record. I want to see Tiger break Nicholas’s record. And tomorrow, I want to see Rory put up a massive red number. I want to remember watching a near flawless tournament from beginning to end on one of the toughest stages. And I want to see Rory’s record breaking rounds in 10 years on a Sportscenter flashback.
The truth is Rory isn’t so bad after all. The cockiness has slowed although not vanished; it’s just about earned now anyways. The hair/strut have become his trademarks. And the future of golf remarks are beginning to look pretty accurate. I still wont cheer for Rory, there’s only room in my heart for Tiger. But unfortunately Tiger’s not playing this U.S. Open. So maybe I can make an exception for history.
So happy Father’s Day to any fathers out there. I hope you have a good one. Maybe Rory can make it one you’ll remember.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Border Wars Eh(?), Red Hot Red Birds, and Tied Championships: A Crazy Night in Sports from Buffalo Wild Wings and Beyond
I knew it would be a good sports night at BWW for several reasons. One, Terrelle Pryor had just left Ohio State which I enjoyed thoroughly. I won't have to watch people over hype him this year, thank goodness. Second, a girl noticed my Minnesota Gophers hat and we had a nice, short conversation about the Land of 10,000 Lakes. Third, it was Wing Tuesdays. And so it began.
****Funny things I didn't mention: JJ Barea started?!?! Cobi Jones cannot be taken seriously in studio with his hair. Sorry I can't do it. There was a large anti-Heat contingent at BWW that constantly heckled them even though the game was occurring about 1000 miles away.
One of the perks of watching an event at BWW, besides the obvious ability to watch several games at once, is that you can see people's reactions and tell if something good or bad happened in a game. I used this to my advantage as I originally had to focus on the US-Canada Gold Cup match and couldn't divert as much of my attention to the Cardinals game as I wanted to, due to soccer's non-stop pace. So I designated the guys sitting next to me, who were enjoying a nice wad of dip throughout the game, as my "Cardinals-o-meter." They were there for the baseball game. Since both of the games got underway at 7:05, I had double action immediately. The NBA Finals weren't on until 8, so the three headed monster wasn't in effect just yet.
As the match began, the waitress took my order, and I began furiously scribbling notes in a spiral notebook I had brought, making me look like quite the nerd in my US Michael Bradley soccer jersey and my Minnesota hat. But if you aren't at BWW to watch sports, why come? The US owned possession in the first half, making runs down the flanks, challenging Canadian defenders and connecting on passing sequences with surprising ease. Obviously, Canada isn't the most talented side, but the confidence the US showed was a good sign and an encouraging beginning to the Gold Cup.
Meanwhile, Berkman went yard on his former team and the Cardinals took a 2-0 lead in the 1st, only to be counter-balanced by a Carlos Lee homer in the bottom of the inning. 2-2 and tracking...
All the chances and hard work paid off for the US from an unlikely source, as Jozy Altidore handled a nice ball from none other than Landon Donovan, showed his strength in holding off his defender, and snapping a quick shot to beat the goalie under his arm pit near the near post in the 15th minute. While the ball was quite saveable, it was still a nice showing from Altidore and good to see him get a goal. Originally, the field turf of Ford Field worried me, because the US had difficulty adapting to the turf some Central American teams use during the last cycle of World Cup qualifying but it doesn't seem to phase the Yanks too much. The midfielders are working well together, providing balls down the flank and connecting in the middle for efficient ball control. The only true trouble for the US came in the form of a ball with eyes struck by De Resario from outside the top of the box, only to be just wide of the target. And though it took him about 25 minutes or so, Agudelo seems to have found his footing and was involved in several nice chances on goal.
By the time the soccer game hits halftime, Jake Westbrook has hit a three run double (?!?!?!) and Game 4 of the NBA Finals has commenced. Sadly, Allen Craig left the Cardinals game in the first inning with some sort of knee injury and the guys beside me are up to their elbows in wings. Mine are about a fourth finished and I'm on my third Mr. Pibb. The waitress has realized I'm in this for the long haul, has stopped checking on me, and only comes by when she knows I need a refill. This is excellent because I hate sitting their with them asking, "Can I get you anything else?" And me having to reply, "No thanks I'm good," while I'm thinking in my head, "Yes, I know I'm freeloading these channels that I don't get in my apartment off of you. Sorry."
The Heat-Mavs looks like another back and forth battle from the very beginning as Dirk hits his first three shots, only for the Heat to rally via Chris Bosh. Eventually, the shooting percentages get sort of ugly, the defense somewhat solid, and the game very intense. But more on that later.
The second half opens slightly differently as Canada looks a bit more dangerous. They get into the box with less difficulty than before but real chances are still sparse. However, for the first time in the match they are beginning to make me very nervous. Sadly, my boy Bradley picks up his 137th stupid card in his international career in the 51st minute, but that could just be an approximation. He then redeems himself with a beautiful seeing-eye cross to Altidore, which he proceeds to whiff on with his head, screwing Mikey out of the praise he rightfully deserves. This is followed by Dempsey trying a "reverse bicycle kick" on a dipping cross which he almost completes in spectacular fashion. I yell in glee then disappointment and several people stare at me, as if I just punched them in the face. Sorry I'm a patriot.
The Mavs and Heat continue their battle of attrition and I look briefly at it in time to see Tyson Chandler nut on Joel Anthony's face with authority. That guy kind of scares me.
I shoot both of my arms into the air as the Son's of Sam net their second goal of the match in the 62nd minute via a nice grounded cross by Altidore, ever so slightly tipped by a sliding Agudelo in the middle of the box, and finished on a nice sliding goal by Clint "I run this town" Dempsey. He proceeds to tap the flag lightly and salute the crowd while people at BWW proceed to wonder what game I'm getting so excited about, as the NBA and Cardinals game are both at commercial. Pay attention to soccer people, it's the "beautiful game" and when you do, you seem slightly less uncultured to European people. What's not to like?
No score change has occurred in the Cardinals game and the NBA game rarely fluctuates away from a 4 point deficit for either team in the early going. Meanwhile, I can't finish all 24 traditional wings I have ordered so it looks like I'll have lunch tomorrow. Holler.
Tim Howard shows why he is a world-class keeper in the 85th minute when he saves a point blank range shot in traffic, the Canadian player falls over him, he then rushes to get up as the ball isn't cleared of danger, it finds the foot of a Canadian attacked who proceeds to launch a half-volley towards the top of the net which Howard reaches to save with reflexes like a jungle cat (jaguar, puma, leopard really which ever one you prefer). I let out another yelp in disbelief. Oops. I feel like a jungle cat in a zoo being starred at through bars. With the final whistle drawing near, Westbrook is in a bit of a jam. He puts two runners on with one out in the bottom of the 6th, then Theriot makes yet another error on the season and they are loaded with just one away. Jason Motte enters, gets the next batter 0-2 and proceeds to drill him. Not good. Luckily he settles in strikes the next batter out, and retires the side with a harmless grounder. 5-3 Cards going into the seventh.
Heat-Mavs is at halftime with the Heat up by two in a game that could kindly be classified as ugly. While no one has stood out, besides possibly Tyson Chandler and Chris Bosh, the close score makes all those non-partisan observers still interested and will probably keep ratings high. With a lull in the action, I exit BWW to rush home to see the end of both the Cardinals and the Finals games.
Luckily, I get back in time to see Pujols go yard again, with it being so bomb-like it is almost reminiscent of his homer against Lidge in Game 5 of the 2005 NLCS. Furthermore, Theriot extends his hit streak to 20 games on a last-chance ninth inning at-bat with a double, knocking in an insurance run. Simultaneously, the Heat are blowing another lead to the Mavs, who seem to love playing from behind. While LeBron has mysteriously disappeared and Dirk is playing with a fever (not even cowbell could cure this one), Wade is hogging the spot light and a scrappy supporting cast is keeping the Mavs relevant in the game.
As Salas closes out the game for the Cardinals, allowing a harmless run in the ninth, the final 6 minutes of Game 4 is underway. The Heat officially give away the lead and Dirk, with help from Terry and Stevenson extend their new found lead to six with 1:53 remaining. While I continue to search for LeBron like he's Waldo, Wade misses a game-tying free throw with 30 seconds left. Baskets are exchanged, Terry makes clutch free throws, and then a strange play consisting of the ball bouncing off Wade's leg, him lunging to stop the back court violation, tossing the ball to Miller, and ole Gator Mike air balling the following three leaves me wishing the game had gone to overtime and extended my self-enforced bedtime.The Mavs have tied the series and this puppy looks like it's headed towards seven games. Awesome.
Sadly, the crazy sports' night is over. I'm still looking for LeBron, though I feel good about the direction of the Cardinals (four game winning streak) and the US team (defeated their toughest Gold Cup opponent until probably the semi-finals with relative ease). As my wings sit in the refrigerator waiting for me to eat them at work tomorrow, I can't help but think this is why I love sports. I was entertained from 7-11 PM all by myself. And though it may seem sad to the onlookers, I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Excuse Me for Being Cliche
For a sports fan, right now is an exciting time. The NBA and NHL playoffs are in full swing, packed with interesting story lines like the upstart Grizzlies and defining moments in Alexander Ovechkin's career approaching quickly. Baseball is flying into its second month of play with the Indians successfully continuing to shock the AL and young stars rising throughout the league. For those with a less typical sports palate, Chelsea is attempting an incredible challenge for the Premiership League title, the Champions League is winding down to an intriguing final, the French Open is quickly approaching, and the PGA US Open is beginning to pop up on the upcoming events radar.
However, when I checked out ESPN.com on Monday morning, the homepage picture wasn't of Wade staring down one of the Celtics he dropped 38 points on or Lecavalier netting his game-winning overtime goal against the Capitals. It was an unnamed fan at the Mets-Phillies Sunday night baseball game, proudly displaying his USA baseball jersey with a smile across his face.
The events of late Sunday night rung out throughout the country and reminded me (and many others I’m sure) that there is something else going on in the world besides sports. But rather than the events making me think, “Wow, look at how unimportant sports are in the grand scheme of things,” they made me think, “Wow, sports are more important than most people really give them credit for.”
And allow me to explain through several over-used cliches.
Cliche #1 - “It’s just a game.”
Every time I would walk into school the day after one of the team’s I root for was eliminated from their respective playoff, I’d be depressed, downtrodden, and just slightly happier than Tony Montana when he finds Manny and Gina together. And every time someone, usually a girl, would ask, “What’s wrong?” I would tell them and they’d reply with one of my least favorite phrases ever penned in the English language: “It’s just a game.”
People who really understand sports know that this is couldn’t be any further from the truth. Just a game would not motivate people to pour gallons of sweat on old high school gymnasium floors. Or sacrifice their body running full speed into a catcher. Or take a puck to the face, only to get stitches, lose three teeth, and miss only ten minutes of ice time. No, sports are not just a game. They aren’t just a game to the athletes who play them with unbridled intensity and they aren’t just a game to the fans who invest their livelihood into their teams.
Your rebuttal may be, “Well, you don’t even play the game, how can you care so much?” I would say that as you watch a team day in and day out, you feel like you know them. The athletes become a part of your every day life. You begin to see them more often than you see your extended family (and even some of your immediate family). The team is thoroughly entrenched in your life. And you can’t let go of something so omnipresent. Why would thousands of strangers show up for the funeral of Darryl Kile? Or millions mourn the early departure from this earth of Walter Peyton? Why do you think Brian’s Song is one of the few movies that can make any grown man cry? Just a game? Not bloody likely.
Cliche #2 – “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
Let me preface this section by saying that I often scorn athletes for taking the bigger contract. I’m not really sympathetic for either side of the NFL’s labor struggle because both sides are much wealthier than about 95% of the world’s population. Athletes do get paid an inordinate amount to play a game but that should not dehumanize them. And the spoiled athlete stereotype should not dominate the perceptions the everyday person has of the sports’ profession.
But as the old cliche indicates you shouldn’t place a label on the professional athlete. A majority of athletes are a lot more selfless than most people realize. Countless teams dedicate hundreds of hours a year giving back to the communities that support them throughout their season. Think college athletes are just spoiled and looking for an easy way to the pros? Think again.
For every Terrell Owens or OJ Simpson, there are a hundred Luke Scotts.
"Scott still travels to Venezuela each winter to spend time there and work charitable missions," reported Amy K. Nelson of ESPN.com. "He ships crates of baseballs and teaching and medical supplies there. And he works with Christian families who take kids in off the streets. Scott considers it God's work and does it with no publicity. He often will seek donations from teammates, and the rest he pays for himself"
Remember Pat Tillman? He gave up millions of dollars as an NFL cornerback to fight for his country as an Army Ranger and never returned. He died in the Afghan mountains in the prime of his life. He was an athlete. Remember Roberto Clemente? He was heavily involved in aiding several Latin American countries through humanitarian work. While traveling to Nicaragua to deliver food supplies and other aid to earthquake victims, his plane crashed and his body was never recovered. He was an athlete.
Sports can’t be just a game because the people who are a part of sports drastically change our social landscape. They make us think of things bigger than themselves and the game. The athletes aren’t really athletes except for at night with the bright lights on. They are people making a difference.
Cliche #3 – “Blood is thicker than water.”
The importance of sports pulsates through the complex structure of family and often times strengthens the bonds which are most essential to us. Don’t believe me? Ask any father and child who have bonded over a journey to the ballpark. Or any mother who donates her free time to watch her offspring play soccer or tennis. The bonds which hold our families together in today’s society are often strengthened by something only sports can offer.
As I trotted down my grandparent’s stairs on Easter Sunday and entered the basement, the scene in front of me looked like this: my dad, maternal grandfather, two uncles, great uncle, and second cousin were all circled around a table. In front of my dad lay an enormous book. The men were talking about baseball. The debates ranged from greatest pitcher ever (Bob Gibson was a strong dark horse candidate) to Gary Carter’s Hall of Fame candidacy (dicey at best). As I entered the fray, three generations talked seamlessly about a common topic. Can you imagine doing that about anything else? Like for example, my grandpa and I sitting down and talking about Twitter? That’s about as likely as JoePa getting a new pair of glasses.
Rick Riley wrote about how his father and him really only truly bonded over watching Jack Nicklaus play golf. Though they shared common blood, they were at times distant. But on Sundays, cheering on the Golden Bear to a victory became a common tie. What else has this affect on people? What else brings families together in such a way? What else necessitates such bonding, such common passion?
Cliche #4 – “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”
One person cannot win a game (excluded individual sports like golf and tennis). It takes the perfect combination of all kinds of parts to make a team work. A successful team signifies everything that humanity should attempt to be: people making sacrifices for the betterment of those around them and contributing to a common goal with their maximum effort and attempting to reach their full potential. These are things that if applied to everyday life would ensure great things for countless individuals.
This not only applies to athletes coming together to make a team better. It applies to the fans, perfect strangers who high five each other at a bar or at the game. It applies to the people who flood the stadiums, arenas, and fields to cheer their team past its perceived maximum potential and reach that next level. When else do you see perfect strangers sit down next to each other, strike up a conversation, and two hours later, are talking like they’ve been friends for years? (Unless of course, you’re a Cardinals fan stuck next to a Cubs fan.) The camaraderie sports induce is unparalleled as they continually produce common bonds between seemingly different people. You could strongly dislike an acquaintance of yours, sit down with some common friends, watch a game in which you are cheering for the same team, and all hostility melts away.
If you doubt that sports are anymore than just some people running, skating, or throwing various objects in a usually rectangular environment, remember this; when Cote d’Ivoire qualified for the 2006 World Cup the country was being torn apart by a bloody civil war. The squad’s qualification jump-started a cease-fire and inspired President Gbagbo to restart peace talks. Les Elephants, as the team is known in their native country, literally saved thousands of lives by participation in the world’s most watched sporting event.
______________
I’m not trying to convince you to go memorize every statistic on Baseballreference.com and start buying season tickets to every local team. I’m not telling you to forget about the things you think are most important in your life. Obviously it isn’t the end of the world when your team is eliminated from the playoffs (though sometimes it really does feel like it). And I could list hundreds of different things that are much worse in the grand scheme of things. But before you down play the sports fanatic that lives next door or the girl who decks herself out in her team’s gear everyday, remember one cliche.
It’s much more than just a game.
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