Dallas Mavericks: Game 3 Reaction

Mavs need to work on two things:

1) Points in the paint. Hell, points that come from something closer than 12 feet from the hoop.
2) Defense. The talking heads on ESPN are going to go back to calling the Mavs "soft." They loved using that term for years; they briefly stopped using it for a week in June this year.

I am not freaked. While 0-3, they have 63 more games to get it all figured out.

Goin' Bowlin' 2011: Holiday Bowl

2011 Holiday Bowl, San Diego, CA

I had a great time in San Diego at the 2011 (Some corporate sponsor I thought made tires, but actually does something else with education) Holiday Bowl. I love that city. Hands down my favorite in California. I've lived in L.A. for just over four years and would move to San Diego in a heartbeat, given work situation or lotto win or whatever. I'd move there mostly because it doesn't feel like California. Sure, it's got its fair share of 40-plus-year old women dressing in shit from Forever 21, but that doesn't overshadow the beautiful terrain, awesome local spots, and small city feel in a big city setting.

In general, I would leave L.A. in an instant and only miss a handful of things. But, the thing is, I wouldn't just start a conversation with a complete stranger in that manner (despite what the case might be here as I type these words...).

Example: Texas and Cal are playing in the game and I'm at the Cal Alum tailgate. My mother in law is a huge Cal booster. My wife and brother-in-law both went there for undergrad. They're great people, I love them dearly, and, yes, they tease me about Mack Brown and the 2005 Rose Bowl. How Mack "screwed" Cal. I'll often find myself repeating, "well, why didn't Cal's coach care enough to petition for his players?" Seems like "snooze, you lose" to me. Don't hate the player, hate the game. Insert cliche here. But the thing is, being at a Cal tailgate in Burnt Orange is lot like a bunch of Cubs fans seeing a picture of Steve Bartman. They're nice enough people, but good lord they haven't moved on!

I was one of three people that I counted in Texas gear at their pre-game festivity. Everywhere I was greeted with talk of Mack Brown and how he either whined or cried for Texas to get into the Rose Bowl. How he single-handedly "cheated" Cal out of their first Rose Bowl trip in generations. They carried signs decrying his name. "Sack Mack," it read. Seriously? They are as bad as Cubs fans and complaints of no trips to World Series because of some dude in a turtleneck going for a foul ball. Listen, I didn't make the football schedule that year. Neither did you. And neither did Mack. I personally feel that Mack went to bat for his team. He made his case. The BCS went with Texas. Texas beat Michigan. End of story. Well, as far as I'm concerned.

But the thing that gets me are all of the California types that have to let me know how much they dislike Texas. Personally, I think it has a lot more to do with an inferiority complex that relates directly to how confident Texans are compared to Californians, but they'll have you believe it has everything to do with topographical comparison of the two states.

I'm not saying they're all like this, but there were a few asses in the bunch. I caught a couple "you're brave to wear that in here." Really? You do know that Aggies and/or Sooners will literally start brawls with Longhorns, often resulting in need of immediate medical attention. Remember this one? Those people are nuts. But Cal fans? I'd expect them to pick up a cardboard sign and protest me well before any actual physical harm was an option on the table. Hell, when I first moved to California, I had no idea that "Cal" and "Berkeley" were the same thing. Why would Berkeley ever have something as violent as football, let alone organized athletics? So, no, I wasn't very brave to wear Burnt Orange to a Cal tailgate. Bravery would require fear of something.

As I'm finishing up my last beer to head to the game (Texas' own Shiner beer, which was ordered by the Cal folks, mind you), this really drunk asshole decides to strike up a conversation. He's got his white wine spritzer in one hand and his equally drunk wife in the other. She's blitzed and not nearly as hot as she thinks she once was. He starts in with the whole, "you know, I like Austin, but the rest of the state is shit."

Wow, man. Roles reversed, I'd never come up to you and lay into California that way. I doubt the majority of Texans would. Not saying that they might not be thinking, "thank God I don't live in that ass-backwards septic tank," but they're not just going to start a conversation that way based on a damn t-shirt color.

I dislike most of this damn state. The ridiculous taxes. The high cost of living. The shitty state of the public education system that no one is willing to deal with. The fucking traffic; it takes an hour to go 5 miles or across the city, no one can ever really know. The pollution. The dirty beaches. The fact that you have to drive everywhere, but nowhere offers sufficient parking. Lack of mass transit. The fair weather fans who either refuse to show up on time or can't because the traffic is so ridiculous and the mass transit is so shitty. Every place offers valet parking, whether it's a strip mall or a restaurant no one has ever heard of. And the people are so beaten down by all of this, no one ever says "hello" or doesn't know how to respond when a non-native dares to ask, "how are you doing?"

But I wouldn't just drop all this on someone. Not even this asshole with his white wine at a tailgate.

ASSHOLE: Yeah, I like Austin.
ME: Yeah, it's a fun town.
ASSHOLE: The rest of the state is just shit.
ME: Sorry we couldn't make a better impression for you.

Translation:

ASSHOLE: I like Austin because it's a college town with lots of bars and hip places with poor lighting where I can hide the fact that I'm twice as old as the average patron.
ME: Yeah, places like Dallas, Houston, and San Antonio will probably just remind you how much you live in a fictional world and try adamantly not to acknowledge the fact that you're not a kid anymore.
ASSHOLE: Those places are sad because they don't begin their late local news with the latest on the Kardashians. Dallas has one of those now, so maybe I'd consider thinking about going there sometime.
ME: You do know that when you set foot outside of California, it isn't normal for a 40-year old man to wear skinny jeans, right? Texas is better off without you.

Then he said something about working with Matthew McConaughey, being in "the business," and making some sort of movie that I referred to as an "indie," which upset him, probably because I meant "indie" more as "I've never heard of that movie and why would I?" My politeness does have its limits; I had been drinking. Then I replied to something he said with "Alright alright alright" in my half-assed best Wooderson. Again, drinking.

Eventually, he grew tired of our conversation when I wasn't willing to join him in either bashing Texas or taking a brave stand to defend its honor. Again, no need for bravery. Especially when your male counterpart is sipping white wine. At a tailgate.

Seriously, ask anyone what they like about California and the first thing out of their mouth has something to do with the weather. Yes, it's pretty much 60-something degrees year-round. It's nice, but equally unnatural. Every day tends to feel the same when it never rains and never drops below 30. January feels like April feels like August. It can really mess with your head. I'll sometimes have to stop and look at a calendar to recall what month it actually is. But their answer can't be anything other than "the weather," because you know, and more importantly they know, anything else would be utter bullshit. The state is in monstrous debt, has one of the highest unemployment rates, and the housing market is one of the most-over priced to get into. But you feel comfortable during all of it!

Regardless, Texas won the game, I had a great time, and Cal is still stuck with the same coach who refused to go to bat for his players in 2004.

Dallas Mavericks: Pre-Game 3 Reaction

My Pre-Game 3 reaction (if such a thing is possible) for the Mavs: yes, they're 0-2. It's easy to freak out when coming off a championship run. And one which was so thoroughly entertaining, with well-drawn hero and villain figures. Take your pick.

But the Lakers. They're 0-2, too. The Lakers. 0-2 to start a season. And their little brother that shares the same building as them started hot with a win on the road. And lil' brother has buzz. Lots of it. The Laker fan base had a slow and steady groan during preseason last week. Now it's coming to a boil.

I love it.

Dallas Mavericks: Game 2 Reaction

It's only two games into the new, and short, season, but there's a plan to get Dwight Howard, right? 'Cause I'd trade Odom and a couple bench players (i.e. Roddy B) for Howard to stick around DFW for 4-5 years.

Ugh. It's going to be a long couple weeks to see these guys play their preseason on national TV.

Dallas Mavericks: Game 1 Reaction

My initial reaction to Game 1: the Mavs played like a team made up of new members that have had all of two weeks to play together. The Heat played like a team with returning starters with something to prove in a shortened NBA season.

Losing three starters and one key bench player is going to take a while to get over. Butler, Chandler, Stevenson, and Barea. They were not only key, but they fit. It's going to take a couple weeks to fit Odom, Vince Carter, and Delonte West into the mix. If at all. Perhaps they're temporary. Or trade bait.

If Odom sticks around, I hope we see the Odom I've heard about. The Odom that holds the locked room together, motivates the team, and shows up ready to win the Sixth Man of the Year Award, fueled on a stomach full of Willy Wonka treats. Not the Odom that got tossed after four minutes of play on the court.

All that said, even if the Mavs go 0-66 in the 2011-12 season, I still have the memory of watching one of the greatest post-season runs in recent history. No matter the sport. No matter the team affiliation. The run that the Mavs put together from April to June was something special. Exciting. And this image reminds me of that:

2010-11 NBA Champion Dallas Mavericks

Unbridled Opinion: Win-now League

http://espn.go.com/new-york/nba/story/_/id/7330900/tyson-chandler-dallas-mavericks-nears-deal-new-york-knicks-sources-say

Conventional Wisdom tells us that the NBA is a "win-now" league. That would dictate that when a team is on a hot streak, they should ride it until the wheels fall off. Especially when you're the oldest roster in the Association, like the Dallas Mavericks. If we're to believe the sports hype, what are the reigning NBA Champs doing exactly?

Owner Mark Cuban reportedly sees an opportunity to be under the luxury tax for the first time since purchasing the team. This means not offering big pay days to Tyson Chandler, J.J. Barea, and Caron Butler, so they can instead sign with the competition. Fine, I get that. But the reports suggest that the Mavs are avoiding huge contracts this year in the hopes of signing one of the big free agent names in the next off-season. That class includes Chris Paul, Dwight Howard, and Deron Williams. Um, those guys have already said their lists include specific markets, none of which appear to include the DFW Metroplex.

The Association just wrapped a 160+ day stalemate which in large-part dealt with teams specifically attempting to avoid the free agent maelstrom that occurred when Chris Bosh and LeBron James left their former teams with nothing when they departed for Miami. New Orleans and Orlando aren't going to accept the same situation with their stars who have their eyes locked on the largest markets either Coast has to offer. Which means they'll both get sign-and-trade deals THIS year. Not next, when the Mavs are talking about spending money again.

The Mavs have the oldest legs in the NBA, they have the talent and the ability to repeat in a shortened season. What I'm left to gather, because I trust the front office in Dallas, is that they have something else up their sleeves.  We, the leering public, don't have all the pieces of the picture. In no way does Mark Cuban strike me as the type of guy that is happy with a one-and-done Championship run, so there has to be more to the story.

But what is it?

Goin' Bowlin' 2011: Schools who Travel

I love what little remains of the purity of college football, compared to the industrial machine that is the NFL. I love the tradition, the excitement, the rivalry, and, above all else, my Alma mater, Texas.

But the thing that turns me off the most, in our BCS-driven world, is the preferential treatment given to schools that travel. Yes, I can hear you shout me down as I say this, having just provided full disclosure in the last paragraph that I attended one of the largest universities in the U.S. It sucks. They can, and often do, receive preferential treatment.

Case in point, this year's Sugar Bowl. Michigan vs. Virginia Tech? Huh? The BCS took two...TWO...ACC schools? It's bad enough we're saddled with one of them by default every year in the Orange Bowl. That's the one I usually tune out with very little effort. But seriously, Michigan squeaks out a 10-2 season in which they didn't beat a superior Michigan State team, yet they get a BCS invite because their fan base is starved by several consecutive years of football irrelevance. My opinion says Michigan State, who barely lost to a very good Wisconsin team in the Big 10 Championship Game, should be the one headed to play in the Big Easy instead of their rivals from Ann Arbor. On the opposite side of the field to MSU should be Boise State with an at-large bid, but they were snubbed by the VA Tech Hokies. Snubbed how? Boise State's lone loss was by one point against a solid TCU team; Virginia Tech didn't win its own Conference. Another point? Boise State's best win came on the road against the self-proclaimed mighty SEC's Georgia, who ended up #16 in the final BCS standings and made an appearance in their Conference's championship game; Virginia Tech bested Georgia Tech, who finished with a ranking anyone affiliated with the BCS would snicker at. The Sugar Bowl should be Michigan State vs. Boise State this year. Heck, even Kansas State could make an argument for an appearance in New Orleans, having finished at #8, ahead of VA Tech's #11 and Michigan's #13. Baloney.

So instead, these three deserving schools get shipped off to a confluence of mediocrity bowls. Michigan State in the Outback Bowl; K-State to the Cotton, which hasn't been what the name implies to older generations in about a generation; and Boise gets the biggest slap in the face, tumbling into the sadness of the Las Vegas Bowl to face a barely .500 Arizona State.

While the Sugar Bowl will make quite a sum of money on the teams who will travel well to the game, perhaps they won't attract nearly the number of TV eyes they might have if they appealed to the college football fan at-large. I won't be watching this one.

The Alcalde: Scenes from the last Hex Rally

http://alcalde.texasexes.org/2011/11/hexrally-ignitestwitter/

Photo courtesy @joeymichelle, Twitter

Those of you who didn't attend large universities with storied athletic programs (i.e. football) may not get what the big deal is in the above link. You might find it silly or even a complete waste of time. To myself and many others, it reminds us of what makes college unique and fun.

The Hex Rally is the University of Texas' annual pep rally the Monday immediately preceding the big game against in-state rival, Texas A&M University. The two of us don't like each other much. Perhaps you saw the recent ESPN doc, "Roll Tide/War Eagle," detailing the Alabama/Auburn rivalry. Yeah, our respective fans that circle the fringe of the bowl are a lot like that, too. For the rest of us, the game's ultimate outcome has a lot to do with bragging rights for the next 364 days with family, friends, co-workers, Pastors. Most of which will occur over Thanksgiving left-overs.

My first Hex Rally experience came during my Freshman year, 1999. Lest you think us all heathens at the University of Texas, the tone and purpose of the Rally that year took a complete 180 as a result of the tragic events that occurred only days prior with the collapse of A&M's bonfire tower, their own tradition celebrating the big game. The two communities joined hands in Austin and, together, mourned the unnecessary loss of young life. We're rivals, not monsters.

With A&M's pending departure to the SEC, this should prove to be the final Hex Rally for a while. At least against the Aggies. Perhaps it'll be the Horned Frogs we hex next Thanksgiving. Or the Mountaineers? Huh. But even though the Hex Rally tradition only clocks-in at 26-years old, it's still one of the bits of uniqueness of college life that's getting trampled by conference realignment.

Never mind the game itself that's been played 118 times.

Sports Journal: Childhood Heroes

The recent Chicago Cubs shake-up had baseball great Ryne Sandberg's name sprinkled in the headlines. Sandberg was my childhood hero. This got me thinking, how do we pick our heroes and, if I were a kid today, who would be my Sports Hero?

I know where my obsession with Sandberg was originally influenced. My dad grew up in Chicago, followed the Cubs, witnessed the '69 season, and loved Ernie Banks. He loved that man. And he loved his passion for the game. I can't tell you how many times I heard my pop emphatically say with a wide smile, "Let's play two!" That made its appearance during many a Little League game he coached.

Reflecting on those three little words, they perfectly embodied my dad's outlook on life. "If one is good, two's even better!" Whatever the idea was, he wanted to kick it up a notch. The first image that comes to mind is when he planned our family trip to Europe, a trip 20-years in the making. He planned a three-week trek that touched four separate countries...by car. People's eyes got big when he told them we drove in Paris, let alone Rome. We bounced around Germany, Austria, and circled Italy. All navigated by his scrawny, goofy 18-year old co-pilot.

That was my dad. The can-do mindset and impassioned attitude of "Let's play two" was his physical embodiment.

One of my earliest memories is going to visit my grandfather, my dad's dad, and watching Cubs games with him. He punished himself by being a Cubs fan, too. He was retired by the 1980s and I remember watching many an afternoon game at his side, each in our own recliner. Just like grandpa, an ice-cold can of Pepsi in one hand and in the other a Hostess Ding Dong cake from the freezer, because they're better that way. And that's where the obsession with Sandberg was born for a young Chris.

Sandberg, he always struck me as the strong, silent type. He was the John Wayne of second base.

He put up many a season of fantastic numbers. He was a leader of men. He got his uniform dirty in what seemed like every game. But he didn't run his mouth. He wasn't flashy. He was damn good at what he did and throngs of fans adored him, but none of it ever seemed to go to his head. Of course SportsCenter and corporate endorsements weren't then what they are now, but I think character remains the same regardless.

It was that sort of character that I did not one, but two separate biographical reports on in grade school. Long before the wiki-anything days rolled around, I tried to glean as much information as I could from a combination of Beckett Magazine, Sports Illustrated, and the backs of baseball cards. Thinking about it, I'm not sure how I squeaked out enough information for the required minimum of pages. Twice.

And speaking of ball cards, between my dad and I, one of our regular male-bonding occurrences became baseball card shows. Lots of them. And my hero Sandberg became the focus. Upper Deck, Fleer Ultra, Topps Desert Shield Edition, Denny's Grand Slam Holographic Limited Editions...as the options exploded, so did the collection of Sandberg cards. Remember how my old man liked to take it to 11? The collection grew from several pages to over 2,000 cards. My dad was responsible for the vast majority of that total. At one point, his job had him covering sales from Atlanta to Chattanooga and he knew where every ball card shop was between the two, many of which he arranged to have on the look-out for #23's cards specifically for him to pick up.

That massive collection paid off in a way I never could have imagined. Flash forward several years to 1996. I'm in my mid-teens. My dad and I are attending a Braves home game against the Cubs. We're set to sit in the cheap seats, but prior to first pitch, dad says, "how about we go down by the Cubs dugout?" Alright, why not. This is the good ol' days, when staff wasn't stationed at every aisle, ready to keep everyone separated by ticket caste.

So we're walking down the steps toward the dugout, passing all the business types and season ticket holders that are ordering things that are far too fancy for a baseball game from personal waiters. We get right up to the edge of the dugout and my old man is able to lock eyes with Manager Jim Riggleman, standing at the top of the steps.

"Hey, Jim, my son is a huge fan of Sandberg. He's go over 2,000 of his ball cards. Would he sign his glove?"

Wha?!? I'm looking at my old man, wondering what the hell is going on here. Where did this come from?

Then I see Riggleman look down into the dugout and say, "Hey, Sandberg. Some kid up here says he's got 2,000 of your cards!"

Next thing I know, Riggleman is motioning for me to toss him my ball glove. I think I forgot I was holding it.

I manage to toss it through the air and see it land in his hands on the other side. It then disappears into the dugout.

At this point, the usher for the section has seen the glove go into the air and is getting wise to our trespassing. He comes over and my dad starts explaining that his kid just wants a simple autograph. And he can't leave without his glove.

I'm watching this transpire...and it's then that it happens. Ryno himself appears at the top of the dugout, my glove in his hand, and tosses it back to me. Slack-jawed, somehow I caught it and stammered out a "thank you" at the same time.

We're clearing out of the fancy-pants section and there it was, on my well-worn Little League glove, the one that saw many years at second base: Sandberg's signature. That glove officially retired on that day.

When I think about Sandberg and describe him here, I can see how I've emulated him over the years: dedication to work, honesty, shying from the spotlight. Sure, we pick heroes usually because we want to walk in their footsteps, but is it possible that we also pick them because we're drawn to individuals with shared traits or personalities? Are we and our heroes kindred spirits?

That in mind, if I were 8-years old today, who would be my Sandberg?

Someone who comes to mind is another second baseman. The Red Sox's Dustin Pedroia embodies that franchise's hard-working roots. That guy is filthy before he can get out of the 1st. He takes care of both sides of the ball and shows he has a true love and respect for the game. I could see amassing a folder of ball cards on this guy.

Another athlete I love to see play is Kevin Durant. Sure, we share the same Alma mater, but even if we didn't, I'd still see the passion he plays with for the game. And, yes, he has huge endorsements, but it comes across in a very different way from someone like Kobe. Man, Kobe is great, but he just looks and acts like the type of guy that'd take great joy in getting to punch you right in the sack.

On the court, Durant looks like a big kid who appreciates how lucky he is to play a kid's game for a very good living. He seems like a guy who just gets it, as recently witnessed when he played a pick-up game of flag football with a bunch of college kids. Was it a pub-stunt? Maybe, but it was a fun one. Which fan wouldn't want to play in that game?

Growing up, a lot of kids I knew loved the flash of stars like Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco. Those guys remind me of current-day players like Alex Rodriguez and Ryan Howard, or even the recent Manny Ramirez.  I'm just not drawn to those guys. Not that each of them aren't talents, but I don't find myself rooting for them, and maybe it's because I don't believe I share personal traits with them. And I'm apparently not a fan of the long-ball hitter.

Within the realm of personal hero talk, I often hear people take a negative slant and say you'll only end up disappointed by them, because they're not who you think they truly are. I'd say that as long as we all take a look at the whole picture of the heroes we pick, which includes how they relate to us and our own values, what they say, and what they really do, then we're far less likely to end up feeling we'll ultimately be betrayed. And we'll all have heroes to help guide us and provide positive influence.

MLB All-Star Game

Dear Mr. Selig:

End the practice that the League who wins the MLB All-Star Game is award home field advantage in the World Series. The All-Star Game is an inconsequential game that is meant to entertain 12-year old boys. It shouldn't play into deciding the fate of the last two teams standing in October because MLB tries to tack-on some sort of TV ratings-driven meaning to it.

Let the team with the best overall record claim home field in the World Series. And to make it even more responsible, make the format 2-2-1-1-1.

Is this shit really that hard to get taken care of?

Thanks,

Baseball Fans

LA Times: Villaraigosa asks baseball to pick local owner for Dodgers

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2011/11/villaraigosa-asks-baseball-to-pick-local-owner-for-dodgers.html

Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa issued the following declaration: “Dodger fans and all Angelenos deserve an owner who loves and believes in this city, who understands that the Dodgers and their historic baseball stadium are not just a team; they are a collective community asset.” [he wrote to the commissioner.]

1) They are not a "collective community asset." They are not the Green Bay Packers. You might really like them, even love them, and really want them to win, but they belong to the owner(s). 2) They have only been a "community asset" since 1962, when the original owner came with them from NYC. And they seemed to do alright.

The Mayor continued: “I understand that Major League Baseball is a business first and the outcome of any auction and final decisions must be fiscally successful for all.  However, I urge you to weigh heavily the merits of local ownership.”

No. In fact, I put forth the argument that local ownership is a very low priority.

The Dodgers need, even deserve, a complete culture change and new direction. They've been saddled with a pair of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum owners for the better part of the last decade and need to be freed from that mire. And that mire was influenced by the cesspool that is the "LA Culture" of self-indulgence and me-me-me attitude. Someone from the outside, who will always remain vigilant and resist the Reality TV Star identity, is exactly what the Dodgers need. Someone from outside the LA bubble.

Priority number one is someone that is passionate about baseball and expects the best from their players and their entire organization. The thought often occurs to me that many East Coasters move to Los Angeles because they know they can use their domineering attitudes to rule native, laid-back Californians like kings. If the future owner is local, my guess is that chances are slim they're originally from here. Not sure that jives with the underlying theme of what Tony is saying above.

Another important priority is breaking with the past. The biggest change that needs to happen would also be the most-controversial: demolish Dodger Stadium. It is terrible. I haven't enjoyed a single seating area in the stadium; I'm either the length of a football field away from the action or I'm baking in the sun on a crummy bleacher with no breeze. And this comes from someone who attended dozens of games yearly at the multipurpose, function-over-style Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium.

Dodger Stadium has got to go. The Dodgers need to work out a situation where they play as long as it takes in either a time-share situation in Anaheim or at the Coliseum. In that time, tear the stadium down to the ground and start over. First, turn the whole stadium around and have it face the city. Who decided the visual attraction beyond the outfield should be a non-descript section of barren hillside instead of a bustling metropolis? Then go about building the all-important corporate suites and exclusive dining clubs, but subtract about 8-10,000 seats and bring them all closer to the field. And for God's sake, cover the bleachers with more than a tin roof. With the space saved from the smaller footprint, build an actual place for the "collective community" to gather around the stadium, both before and after games. And build it on the stadium grounds. Instead of pouring more pavement, build restaurants, bars, and condominiums. Something akin to the neighborhoods around Yankee Stadium, Fenway, and Wrigley. Build Dodgerville, for crying out loud!

The other big priority I'll mention here is rebuilding the farm system. The Dodgers are not going to have a lot of play money for a long time, because it's all going to be wrapped up in buying the damn thing. They won't be able to sign big-time free agents, just like they haven't the last two years of the McCourt Reign. They have to harvest from within, and that means well-structured farm teams with plentiful pools of talent. And the talent has to be attracted by one thing: an owner committed to excellence and winning.

If all of that can come from someone who is "local," great, but, for me, it doesn't matter which city that sort of ambition and determination calls home.

ESPN: Mark Cuban interested in Dodgers

http://espn.go.com/los-angeles/mlb/story/_/id/7182604/dallas-mavericks-mark-cuban-interested-los-angeles-dodgers-right-price

Ding! Dong! The witch is dead. That was the sentiment I read and heard from all over L.A. today. Frank McCourt finally agrees to sell auction the Dodgers. Good riddance. He set the organization back a decade and thumbed his nose at the very Dodger fans that propped-up his unsustainable lifestyle.

The most surprising thing I read/heard from Dodger fans today: an overwhelming interest in Mark Cuban as the new owner.

Win a NBA Championship and people start to see what you can do for their city, their team.

I love Cubes as an owner. He believes in his guys and his staff. When people said he should trade Dirk, he stuck with him and put his faith in him. When people called the Mavs too soft, he made them tougher. He has passion for the sport. He wants to win. And he loves his fans. Cuban would be great for baseball; he would breathe fresh life into the game. He'd make it more interesting. And he'd do the most-important thing for a franchise like the Dodgers: make them relevant.

I'll repeat, I'm not a Lakers fan by any stretch, but I have a lot of respect for the kind praise Jeanie Buss heaped on Cubes:

"Mark is dedicated to his team and his fan base," Buss said. "Some may say he goes over the top but there is a direct correlation between season ticket renewals and the faith fans have in ownership.


"He has put his reputation on the line for his team so fans feel comfortable devoting their time and resources to the Mavs because he does. When I hear someone criticize Mark, I ask them to name the person who owned the team before him. They never can."

Not often you read that kind of praise from one of your biggest rivals.

I was disappointed when Cuban didn't get a shot at buying the Cubs. I was a little bummed when he didn't get the Rangers. Ultimately, one of those is clearly in good hands, the other appears to be setting themselves on the right path. Right now, I can't root for the Dodgers, but I am very intrigued by what he could do for them overall. One day, MLB will let him in to their club. If he's so interested, my one and only concern is that it doesn't affect his first love in Dallas.

ESPN: Mike Quade out as Cubs manager

I read this: http://espn.go.com/chicago/mlb/story/_/id/7182270/chicago-cubs-release-manager-mike-quade

And inside it came this:

Epstein said. "We are looking for someone with whom and around whom we can build a foundation for sustained success. The next manager must have leadership and communication skills; he must place an emphasis on preparation and accountability; he must establish high standards and a winning culture; he must have integrity and an open mind; and he must have managerial or coaching experience at the major league level."

That means candidates would be....well, Bobby Cox and Joe Torre are done, right?  Current voice of the Cubs, Bob Brenly? Or, gosh, are they getting the band back together? Terry Francona?

How about a smidgen of hope for my childhood leader? Nope. Also in was this:

"Theo called me 10 minutes after they issued the press release (on Quade) and told me that they have a list of guys and I'm not on it,'' Sandberg said, according to the Daily Herald. "He wished me good luck and said he hoped I got a chance somewhere soon."


Did Theo say that last part with a nudge and a wink, because ten minutes later came this news: http://espn.go.com/mlb/story/_/id/7182684/philadelphia-phillies-give-st-louis-cardinals-ok-talk-ryne-sandberg-source-says

Sandberg. Managing in the big leagues. As a St. Louis Cardinal. Whoa, whoa, whoa.

I think Theo handled the situation well, but, geeze, Sandberg as a Cardinal. That makes me feel all weird and conflicted. But at the same time I'd love to see it. For Ryno. And for baseball.

I'd like to see the Cubs manager in place soon. Not sure how many guys are out there with that resume.

Sports Concussions

I'm missing something.

Pittsburgh Penguins star Sidney Crosby has been out of action since January of this year due to a concussion. He just started skating in November, taking lite contact. He isn't expected to rejoin his team until sometime next month.

Meanwhile, NFL players suffer concussions and they're lucky if they sit out an entire week.

Does the NFL rush players back into action because of the money involved? It's not like there's a quantum difference between the hits that NFL and NHL players take.

What's the deal?

NFL: Midway Point

Week eight of the 2011-2012 NFL regular season just wrapped last night, concluding the first half. Unless something amazing happens in the second half, this is where I see things standing:

Legit shot at a trip to Indy:
Green Bay Packers
Pittsburgh Steelers

Need to get their act in gear:
Philadelphia Eagles
New England Patriots

Toying with a playoff spot:
Detroit Lions
New Jersey Jets

Making it in simply by not losing the division:
San Francisco 49ers
Kansas City Chiefs

Outside chance at wasting space as a Wild Card:
Dallas Cowboys
Chicago Bears

Guess I see it playing out like this:

NFC
East: Philadelphia
North: Green Bay (#1 seed)
South: New Orleans
West: San Francisco 49ers
Wild Cards: New Jersey Giants, Detroit

AFC
East: Buffalo
North: Pittsburgh (#1 seed)
South: Houston
West: Kansas City
Wild Cards: New England, Baltimore

After this Sunday's games (10.30.11), it's kinda hard not to picture an all-Pennsylvanian Super Bowl coming together in Indianapolis. The Steelers shut down the Patriots and Philly was absolutely unstoppable on offense. If they continue to play that way, why the hell can't they make the title game?

NBA 2011-2012

November 1, 2011. This was to be tip-off evening of the 2011-2012 NBA season. But, well, money went and got involved and we're going to have to wait a little longer for professional basketball while this lockout continues.

In the meantime, SportsCenter was so down in the dumps they played a 20-minute sit-down interview with Les Miles and showed complete-game recaps from NBA Opening Night...2010.

As a Dallas Mavericks fans, I was most looking forward to the presentation of the Championship rings and the hoisting of the 2010-2011 banner high above the American Airlines Center. That'll come another night, but it's one that I'm really excited to see. In the meantime, since the season hasn't started, the Mavs aren't defending anything; they're the NBA Champs. And it's that way until they figure this thing out.

And until it gets figured out, we'll have plenty of football to tide us over throughout the week as this is the time of year when we're bound to find either a college or professional game on nearly any night. College basketball will kick off in marathon fashion within the next week.  And there's always hockey, too, which is the only professional sport that really doesn't give an F when it comes to streaming live play-by-play without some ridiculous subscription. They appear to be warmed by the simple joy that someone is listening. Anyone. And I'm happy they feel that way and that they're willing to share.

But wouldn't it have been a great transition in the last few days to go from the close of the World Series, into the football weekend, and right on into the kick-off of the NBA season?

As an NBA fan, here's hoping both sides come together, hash it all out, and get some ball going by the time the Super Bowl winds down. For the sake of the fans, for withstanding long, dull winters, and thousands, if not millions, of employees, small business, and communities that thrive and survive on the business of the NBA. We need you back in the game.

On the bright side, it's only about 100 days until pitchers and catchers report for Spring Training.

What's wrong with ESPN

Take a look at the image below. Can you spot the headline I think doesn't belong?

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That's right. What business does "Kardashian seeks Divorce from Humphries" have on the front page of ESPN.com? Yeah, I hear you saying "none."

It's fluff news that belongs on TMZ-type sites. It mentions an athlete by name and that's as close to sports-related as it gets. It doesn't even come from the angle of "how will this affect the Nets?" or "what potential impact does this have on Humphries field goal percentage once the season gets underway?"

It's throw-away news that will be posted on every celebrity gossip site on the web and it's included on ESPN.com for the simple fact that people are bound to hear about this, "so they might as well get it from us."

Whether it's because ESPN has numerous 24/7 networks and needs to fill on-air time or due to the fact that we live in a Twitter-driven world, it appears that this is now a steady part of the ESPN diet. no different than play-by-play updates on the NFL and NBA lockouts or minute-by-minute developments in Brett Favre's will-he/won't he.

The simple fact is that until fans overwhelming let ESPN know that this isn't what they want, this will only continue and increase in frequency.

Sports Journal: Jim Leyritz tore out my heart

October 7, 2003: That was a pretty crummy day in my life. I was 23 and I finally experienced my first real romantic break-up. None of that teenager stuff. It was a relationship, one that lasted almost a year, but had been dying slowly for months. It seemed as though neither of us wanted to admit that it was over since July, maybe even earlier. neither wanted to be the bad guy, which only made it worse. It culminated in a supremely unpleasant parting. At present, we haven't spoken since that day.

That break-up negatively affected me for weeks. I didn't sleep well. My work suffered. I was a moody, sad-sack bastard and my friends were powerless when it came to getting me out of my funk. I'm sure she went through something similar.

10.7.03. That day sucked.

But, for me, it was nothing compared to October 23, 1996. That was when Jim Leyritz tore out my heart. And the heart of the Atlanta Braves.

I was 16, a sophomore in high school. It was fall in Atlanta, which coincided with the formation of the Varsity swim team. By some random mistake of my own, I missed the bus to practice that day after school. And by some equally random stroke of luck, it was meant to be. Stranded at school, needing a ride home, I gave my dad a call from the school payphone. That 25-cent call was a literal serendipitous moment.

He answered at work, surprised to hear from me. I explained what had happened. He said he was "very disappointed" I was missing practice. He continued, very fatherly, "You can't be this irresponsible...you really have to follow-through on your commitments." Man, he was laying it on thick. He continued, "You're going to have to be punished for this..." Oh, come on, it's just one practice! Then he dropped the bomb. "Seriously...You're going to have to go to Game 4 of the World Series tonight."

Wait. What?

Turns out, my old man, the smooth talker that he could be, had just finagled a pair of tickets to Game 4. His co-worker won them in a radio contest and she couldn't give two farts about baseball. He pounced. "My son would love to go!" As if he didn't want to go just as much as me.

I found myself suddenly going to a World Series game.

The '96 series, where the Braves were heavily favored defending champs. Where they had just gone into Yankee Stadium and taken Games 1 and 2 in commanding fashion. Sure, they dropped Game 3 to the Yanks, but they had two more at home.

There we were, father and son, at the Fall Classic, watching our team from the third base line. Cold and crisp like the World Series is supposed to feel, everything was also going as it was supposed to, up 6-0 by the end of the 5th. The Braves had their foot on the throats of the Yanks. Then New York got 3 back in the 6th. Alright, 6-3 now, but we still got this.

Then came the fateful 8th.

Top of the 8th and Bobby Cox brought in closer Mark Wohlers. He promptly allowed two to reach base, which brought Yankees back-up catcher Jim Leyritz to the plate. Jim F'ing Leyritz. With his bald head and humongous batting arm-guard, Leyritz resembled more of a pudgy Robocop than a baseball player. After six pitches to Leyritz, Wohlers decided to throw his fourth-best pitch. Leyritz responded by knocking the living hell out of the ball, sending it well over the left field wall. Dad & I had a perfect view to witness the dagger that was wedged deep into the heart of the Braves' chances to repeat as World Champs.

That was it. That one swing. The game was tied at six and the air had been sucked out of the stadium. From that point on, the Braves were as good as dead in that game. Three innings from going up a commanding 3-1 in the series, with a chance to close it out at home the next evening, the Braves lost Game 4 in extra innings, and were instead faced with a 2-2 series and a guaranteed trip back to the Bronx. And that was the killer.

They lost a heart-breaker in Game 5, 1-0, and even though they ultimately lost the series a couple days later in Game 6, it will always feel, to me, like they lost it in that one 8th-inning at-bat by Leyritz in Game 4.

I remember 10.7.03 and 10.23.96 for similar reasons. Both the relationship with my girlfriend and the '96 season lasted about the same length of time. Both had tremendous highs and terrifically low lows. And both dates signaled an end. Although, it isn't hard for me to pick which hurt my heart worse. Even though I recall the fantastic events that lead me to attend my first and, to this point, only World Series game, it will forever be overshadowed for me, as a fan, by the ultimate outcome of that game and its impact on the Series.

That's why, October 27, 2011, watching Game 6 between Texas and St. Louis, I can know a little of what Rangers fans everywhere felt. The highs of being so close. So. Damn. Close. Closer than the Braves in '96.

Closer even than the Braves in Game 7 of '91 when if, only if, Lonnie Smith doesn't hesitate coming around second base and instead goes for home, giving them the lead 1-0, which would have prevented the game from ever going 10 innings, which would have given them the series win instead of the Twins. Instead, it was being just that close to victory, not winning it, and living with it four more years. Four. Long. Years. Until Game 6 of the '95 Series, when Marquis Grissom caught a fly ball to center and collected out #27, and gave the Braves, and fans everywhere, their first World Series title, a moment of vindication, and closure on coming so close, but not quite.

As a Braves fan, there are moments like the ones from Game 7 of '91 or Game 4 of '96 that we can look back on and ask "what if?," but all of that was washed away by the comfort of winning it all in 1995. Texas Rangers fans don't have that. What they have is being one strike away from their first World Series title. One. Strike. Away. Twice. Both in the bottom of the 9th and the bottom of the 10th. It's the type of stuff you play-out in fantasy as a kid on the playground: end of the game, you're at bat, full count, runners on, tens of thousands cheering your name, and all it takes is one swing of the bat. One swing. For your team. And the Cardinals did that to the Rangers. Twice. In consecutive innings. It's something that will linger with Rangers fans for a long, long time.

On the other side of the coin, Cardinals fans couldn't have asked for anything more. They were ten-plus games out of playoff contention with barely a month to go in the regular season; made the playoffs on the very last day of the season; in the first round, defeated the odds-on favorite NL team with the largest payroll and a murderer's row of talent; came back from the brink of elimination three separate times in Game 6; and sent their 36-year old ace to the mound on three day's rest in Game 7 and won it all.

The TV ads say that you can't script October baseball. It's also commonly known that history is written by the victor. The number of home runs and RBIs that Texas catcher Mike Napoli put up would have earned him the Series MVP. Instead, that was all smashed to bits by eventual Series MVP, the Cardinals' David Freese, duly bestowed the award for his series-changing Game 6 heroics in both the bottom of the 9th and 11th. Sandwiched between was the Roy Hobbs-esque home run by injured Rangers' slugger Josh Hamilton in the top of the 10th. As a fan of baseball, you gotta figure at that point, "That's it, all she wrote." That Hamilton home run would have given them the game and the Series win, but it will forever be overshadowed by the walk-off home run by Freese in the following inning. That's the one that wrote history. And it's the one that will make high-light reels for years to come.

It's the Lonnie Smith-type moment that will stick with Rangers fans. It'll be ever-present over the next 100-plus days between now and Spring Training. The type of moment that will place seeds of doubt in their chances of winning it all when an eventual return trip to the Fall Classic arrives. A moment that will linger, even fester, until that Marquis Grissom-like time of exorcism comes and puts an end to the long and terrible drought of going without ultimate victory. When the Rangers eventually become the victors, that's when they'll get to write over the pains of Game 6 and 7 of 2011. It's a tremendous amount to deal with as a fan. Just imagine what the guys actually on the field feel; not all of the 2011 team will be around for the victory when it does come.

Dates like October 7 or 23 or 27 each have their individual meanings to us, some worse than others, some meaningful simply because of the level of importance we place on them. But they're moments that will always remain memorable. They're moments why, sooner or later, we get back to dating. Or why all of us, as fans, stick with our teams. Why we pick ourselves up and try again no matter how far or how close we were, not unlike the players we get behind. We accept that we can't have the tremendous highs without the horrific lows. What we hope for, what we strive towards, are the days that will validate all of the downs and have us all saying, "It was all worth it." Although, it really sucks in the meantime. It really, really sucks. F'ing Jim Leyritz.

ESPN: Cubs introduce Theo Epstein

http://espn.go.com/chicago/mlb/story/_/id/7147573/chicago-cubs-introduce-theo-epstein-president-baseball-operations

Summary: Tuesday, October 25, 2011, Theo Epstein, former General Manager of the Boston Red Sox, is introduced as President of baseball operations for the Chicago Cubs.

Underlying theme: Cubs fans everywhere are filled with hope that Theo can deliver the Cubs their first World Series Championship in over 100 years, in the same way he shepherded the Red Sox, another sad-sack franchise for the better part of a century, to two titles in less than 10 years.

Knee-Jerk Reaction: Disclaimer, I have been a Cubs fan since I knew what baseball was. The last 25+ years have been a pretty consistent kick in the pants. Theo's introduction today gives me a lot of hope.

The mid-season exit of former GM Jim Hendry immediately started the rumor mill that Epstein would be intrigued by the possibility to turn-around another long-time losing organization. I got the feeling that millions of the Cubs' faithful felt the same way.

And it doesn't just appear to be a good fit. It sounds like a good fit, as well. At his introduction, Epstein hit on all the major points I wanted to hear: establishing a proper farm system, accepting the hard work that will be involved, making consistent appearances in October, setting the ultimate goal of bringing a Championship to the North Side, and, most key, in my opinion, changing the mentality and the culture surrounding the team.

The culture of the Cubs comes with 100+ years of baggage. That has to be the first to go. The players, the staff, and, especially, the fans have got to know that things are going to 1) change and 2) improve. Everyone has to pull for each other and in the same direction.

Things that I think should be somewhere on Epstein's priority list:
1) Steve Bartman "Bury The Hatchet Day": forgiveness not for Bartman, but from the entire City of Chicago (and the sorry sons-of-bitches that dare call themselves fans) to that poor man who has been so sorely mistreated by the public. ESPN's well-done documentary "Catching Hell" should make any self-respecting Cubs fan cringe in disbelief at the unacceptable treatment of a private citizen. Solution: Bartman throws out the first pitch on Opening Day 2012, with the Mayor of Chicago catching. The Mayor proceeds to put a price on the head of anyone caught bringing violence against Bartman.
2) Get Ryne Sandberg involved. Perhaps now isn't quite the time to place the Hall of Famer in the dugout driver's seat, but it will be one day. The man has done very good things managing in the minors and if he installs confidence in the fans think of what it would bring to the players. I loved him as a player; he was my favorite. It would be baseball poetry to see him finally make it to a World Series as a Chicago Cub.

I'm pretty damn excited about what future Octobers offer. I don't expect to be there next year or even in 2013, but I get the real feeling that 2014 isn't out of the question.

LA Times: Pasadena studies letting NFL use Rose Bowl temporarily

Article: http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-1021-rose-bowl-20111021,0,5794596.story

Summary: The City of Pasadena will conduct a traffic study over a four-day period in-and-around The Rose Bowl to gauge whether or not the area can sustain hosting a NFL team on a temporary basis for several years.

Under-lying theme: The City of Pasadena sees an opportunity to cash in.  They're $16 million short on the $152 million worth of upgrades currently underway on The Rose Bowl.

Knee-Jerk Reaction: Pasadena thinks studying the traffic patterns for a UCLA vs. UC Berkeley (CAL) regular season game (October 29) is the best example of the traffic to expect for a NFL game?  In what reality?  The one where UCLA just lost 48-12 to a very mediocre Arizona team or the one where UCLA and CAL barely have enough combined wins to make them Bowl eligible?  I don't see either of those realities dragging college kids 30 miles across town (in crap traffic) from the West Side to fill the stands.

I was at the UCLA home game against Texas on September 17.  Their season wasn't yet lost and they were hosting one of the biggest teams in all of NCAAF.  It wasn't anywhere near full.

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Pasadena wants to conduct a study?  Study the Rose Bowl game.  Or the BCS Championship Game.  Something that will sell-out and fill every hotel room in a 5-mile radius.  That's more of an accurate reflection of what (Insert Name of Relocated Team) Vs. Green Bay/Dallas/Pittsburgh will look like.

Hard Times in Dodgertown

June 24, 2011, LA Angels at LA Dodgers. ESPN had the total attendance on record as 43,640; these 17 seconds of video might say otherwise:

You'll hear it's 7th inning stretch time, well before the Angels put the thing out of reach for the Dodgers.  Patches of the yellow box seats are showing and both sides of the upper deck are clear from first and third base on back.

We basically had free-reign of the upper concourse and our own concession stand.  Beer lines would have been 5-10 deep just last year.  This is a team that's just over one season removed from back-to-back NLCS appearances; now there's a general malaise about the premises.

I can stomach listening to the "local" sports radio here for only so long.  I have no interest in hearing a regular season Lakers game broken down over the course of three hours, with several more hours of accompanying phone reaction.  And make no mistake, this is Lakers' town.  They were more upset last week about the mere mention of trading Gasol or Bynum than anything Dodger-related.

It really is a sports sin what McCourt has done to this franchise.  But the people have yet to bring out the pitchforks; this is a town that feeds on scandal.

This Is Why

LeBron James' defenders seem to turn a blind eye to his antics, such as this:

When a fans' drink was spilled courtside and the game stopped down for about two minutes, LeBron decided to take a rest at the base of the Heat basket. Gather up with your team mates and figure out the next course of action during the bonus time-out? Nah. I'll just take a siesta and let the cameras fawn over me.

Man, I so wanted the Heat to lose Game 3 so the press would go after him for this. But, hell, I'll take a Mavs 3-2 lead instead.

You'd never see Dirk do this. Nor Wade. Not Jordan. Hell, not even Kobe.

Los Angeles Fakers

I lack a wittier title at the moment, so I'll go with this one. It has about as much depth as the people it describes anyway.

That small talk conversation with the stranger next to me on the plane invariably leads to the "where are you from?" question. I'm the guy who says "I live in LA." It's most definitely not where I'm from. And, perhaps to my own detriment, will often interject this into the conversation.

But I feel compelled to. The people from LA leave me with the impression that they simply try too hard to act like they're not trying too hard. They show up late to everything. And not just because of the traffic. When asked why they love LA, I will put money on it that the first sentence out of their mouths will have some reference to the weather, rather than schools, amenities, quality of life, food, or even people.

Which brings me to Lakers fans. While I certainly can't take anything away from their passion, I can protest their knowledge. And action. Or lack of. And that was never more evident than their recent series with the Dallas Mavericks.

This is where I include my disclaimer that I am a Dallas Mavs fan. That said, some Mavs fans can be just as empty and knuckle-headed as their LA counterparts. Throw a rock into the first ten rows of a Mavs home game and try not to hit some white lady pushing 40 with fake boobs and a fat ass crammed into clothes meant for a female half their age. And the ding-dong, meat head juicer in an Affliction t-shirt and $50 trucker hat next to her. But still, they're not Lakers fans.

Yankees fans are indignant. Spin the wheel on a team for either Boston or Philly and see the wankery you end up with. And, Lord, fans of the SEC, will drive anyone nuts.

But Lakers fans, they stand alone in their lousiness.

Aside from showing up late to games, they show their colors late, too. The last three years, fans have been treated to three straight trips to The Finals. Not just the play-offs. The Finals. And despite that, the Lakers car flags don't show up until about the 3-win mark in the Western Conference Finals. Then en masse in the Finals.

Each team in the play-offs has handed out t-shirts to every fan in attendance to color-out the stands. Blue-outs in Oklahoma City and Dallas. White-outs in Memphis. The same even in Chicago and Miami. But only a smattering of yellow in the LA stands. Granted, there was a "24" jersey in the background of every televised shot, but most were too cool to put on their "The Time is Now" trophy shirt. Memphis, OKC, Dallas, the people sitting around you will ask you why you're the only one not wearing your shirt. I get the impression most LA fans will take theirs home to give to their gardener.

And then the lack of action. They didn't stand behind the backboards to provide distraction while Dallas took free throws. They didn't waive anything. They barely made noise. They thought they were sitting at home watching on TV. They might as well have. They probably could have purchased a nice one for what their seats cost.

The only time you knew they were there was when they booed. And it wasn't the Mavs they booed, even as they had their way with the Lakers on their home court. The Lakers fans booed their team. Their two-time defending championship team. They booed Pau Gasol, their steal of a trade, who helped them reach three finals in a row and win two of them. They even booed Kobe. Kobe. "You sucks" were heard. Really? REALLY?! I've never heard Dallas boo Dirk. Not once.

And, ultimately, this brings me to a key point I want to share with you: LA does not deserve another NFL team. The shine of a new team will wear off after three seasons of sub-.500 ball. A franchise which moves to LA is insulting their current fan base, as well as strengthening the perception that the NFL is nothing more than a corporation. A brand new franchise, although highly unlikely due to the current OCD-like even number of teams that make up the league, is dead-in-the-water without a proven star. Or two. And beyond that, the stadium itself, the pipe dream they want to build on land currently occupied by the Convention Center downtown, will be at least half-filled with people wearing the visiting team's colors. This is the direct result of many in LA living here, not being from here. Ultimately, any NFL team that plays in LA has one ultimate outcome: moving to another city.

I suppose the most-likely candidate to make the move to LA is Jacksonville, now that the Minnesota Vikings are off the list. Which brings me to another point that irks me: how do people allow themselves to be bamboozled into paying for football stadiums? Say what you will and feel how you will about Jerry Jones, but the dude paid for his own billion dollar stadium. The gall of the Vikings to strong-arm (read "blackmail," if you like) Vikings fans into paying half of a billion dollars for a private stadium, lest they lose "their" team, is astounding. "Their" team. How do billionaires pull it off? That's like Target telling you to pay them to open a store in your neighborhood, then charge you $25 to park there and $70 for a six-pack. Hell, man. Trickery like that is nearly an art.

The NFL will come back to LA, one way or another. Whether it should doesn't appear to be the important question right now. Either way, LA will remain Lakers' town. And what that amounts to isn't much, in my opinion.

Don't Water-down MLB

Completely agree with San Francisco Giant's starting pitcher, Tim Lincecum: no reason to expand MLB playoffs.

One, the post-season should live and end in October, not stretch into November.  The race for the post-season in September and the start of the playoffs are already dwarfed by the start of the NFL each year.  A regular season game between the Browns and Seahawks will draw more viewers on a Sunday night telecast than the average World Series game.  Throwing in another MLB Wild Card team won't improve ratings.  Two, this sounds like a slippery slope: a quest to add a couple more teams each decade, to the point where the MLB matches the amount of teams that make the playoffs from the NFL, NHL, and NBA (over half from basketball, mind you).  Three, not sure if you can blame me if I find this to be a suspicious way to keep the Yankees in the post-season annually.

Since this proposal will obviously be decided without any of my input, this is what I would like to see as a fan if additional teams are added to playoff competition: 1) Match-ups and home field based on overall League record, not division standing and 2) Post-Season begins no earlier than October 1 and ends by Halloween.  November baseball leads to delays caused by snow and freezing rain.  And, honestly, for a season that begins in April, the last thing MLB needs is to drag on some more.

NFL in LA

Over the past three years, I've watched the "NFL back in Los Angeles" talk ratchet-up.  Two firms are competing for where an NFL-ready stadium will be built: AEG's proposal to place one on a postage stamp-sized piece of land smack-dab in the middle of downtown (next to their other properties, Staples Center, LA Live) and another group's proposal to build one 30 miles east of the city in Diamond Bar.

Since the NFL has made it clear that they have no intention of adding a brand new franchise and upsetting their perfectly even divisions, the chatter has been, "which team will relocate to fill the stadium?"

I'm not a conspiracy theorist, but is newly re-elected California Governor Jerry Brown inadvertently forcing the San Diego Chargers to relocate to LA by reallocating city funds, should his plan work?  Is Gov. Brown going to make taking Redevelopment Funds from buddy LA Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa more bearable by giving him a NFL franchise to attend?

Are We To Call It A Super Bowl

"Never again will a Super Bowl be held anywhere north of Miami" is what the sportswriters declare in their web posts.  After all, it's much too cold to shout it from the terrace of the Ghostbar at the W.


Ridiculous.  The worst winter storm in 50 years to cross the country and the knee-jerk reaction is to plan on rotating the big game between Miami, New Orleans, Phoenix, and San Diego (stadium isn't an issue any more?) in perpetuity.  And none of this has anything to do with football.


The Super Bowl has turned into a two-week long spectacle.  The week leading up to the actual game has become a Spring Break for the in-crowd.  I don't hear any complaining from the guys actually playing the game.  The whining is coming from those who can't pull off their obnoxious, look-at-me parties.  I'm sure the whining also stems from those who so desperately wish to spend an exorbitant amount on the chance to catch a glimpse of some now-celebrity.  What the hell do Kim Kardashian, The Situation, and Ashton Kutcher & Demi Moore have to do with the Super Bowl?


The Dallas/Ft. Worth Metroplex is not equipped to deal with snow or ice.  DFW receives a couple days of ice and/or snow a year.  The typical solution is just to wait it out; such an approach is not an available luxury with the Super Bowl in town.  Sure, the weather is an inconvenience and fans will grumble on their trek to The Death Star that Jerry built, but I'm willing to bet all of those negative feelings wash away as soon as kick-off finally arrives.


The important thing is the satisfaction of the fans.  The flash-in-the-pan celebrities will follow the game wherever it goes.  They'll show up in droves in Indy in 2012.  They'll bitch and moan, but they'll go.  They can't resist a chance at being the center of attention.  And, quite honestly, what else do they have to do?  However, it is the NFL fan, the common person, who budgets a once-in-a-lifetime trip to see their beloved team vie for a chance at glory, who must walk away satisfied.  And that usually doesn't involve spending hundreds of dollars on a chance to catch a look at Kim Kardashian's ass.

The Game Has Changed (or how the NFL is just like any other business)

Twenty-four hours ago, the City of Chicago was poised to burn effigies of Bears' starting Quarterback Jay Cutler and run him out of town.

In the NFC title game, Cutler went 6 of 14 in passing, accumulating only 80 passing yards and tossing an interception against a staunch Green Bay defense.  After sustaining several injuries in the first half, one of which was a clearly visible bloodied elbow on his throwing arm, he took the field to lead the Bears in their first possession of the second half.  He was completely ineffective as they quickly went three-and-out.  That turned out to be the end of Cutler's season.  Head Coach Lovie Smith turned to back-up QB Todd Collins for the Bears' next attempt at something resembling offense.

That was when the TV cameras captured Cutler on the sidelines, in glorious 1080p, with not only his usual pout and sour disposition, but walking around.  "A-ha!" everyone watching yelled at once.  There Cutler is, disinterested and walking around, with a supposed "knee injury"?  The natural conclusion is surely that if he's ok enough to walk on the sideline, then, by golly, he should get his rear out on the field and play some damn ball.  Football is a MAN'S sport, after all.

Cutler continued to show movement along the sidelines during the second half, even resembling something akin to "pleased" when third-string QB Caleb Hanie led two successful drives in the 4th Quarter, resulting in 14 points for the Bears.  And that's when the mob truly turned.

Chicago was ready to carry Hanie on their collective shoulders as their new Golden Boy, while forcing Cutler to slink out of town before nightfall, lest he be faced with pitchforks, flamethrowers, and a cyborg Walter Payton.  Many an article, like this one (http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=lc-cutlerinjury012311) and others like it, would have you believe as much, anyway.

Then the condemnation came from the social networks, chief among them, Twitter, where great thoughts and wisdom are creatively crafted in no more than 140 characters, just like only the best parts of the chicken can be squished into McNuggets (try and fit a run-on like this in a tweet!).  Digital Democracy allows any Tom, Dick, Harry, or Sally to spout-off (a-hem); even other football players.  Jacksonville Jaguars running back Maurice Jones-Drew was attributed to the following Tweet: "All I'm saying is that he can finish the game on a hurt knee... I played the whole season on one..." (http://sports.espn.go.com/chicago/nfl/news/story?id=6054047).  Since it was reported, MJD has redacted his nuggets (gosh, it was all a joke!) (http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news;_ylt=AgJ0hS.3jvFsqUN1Jynfrbo5nYcB?slug=ap-jaguars-jones-drew).  That's some solidarity from a fellow union member with a lock-out looming.

Fast forward all the way to today and an MRI reveals Cutler has a sprained MCL (which in the same ESPN article as the MJD quote described it as "Jay Cutler does indeed have a knee injury" rather than something like "Jay Cutler's knee injury is confirmed as a sprained MCL...which would leave most of us wallowing on the floor, crying like a dying Ewok.")

So, is Cutler vindicated?  Sort of.  After all, he does present himself as a rather unlikeable yokel and a bit of a douche (ok, a lot like a douche, and nothing like that dreamy Brady...<3! ).  But I know that if I were faced with taking even one of the hits Cutler did yesterday, I'd probably end up in a ball on the frigid ground, trying desperately not to soil myself.  That's why I think it's incredibly important not to jump to conclusions (even as I'm about to jump to one right now).

At its core, the NFL is a business.  More than that: it's a conglomerate.  And more than at any other point in its history, it is going to start operating like one.  That means protecting their investments.

This season saw teams play it safer than ever with players who sustained concussions; see a partial list here (http://deadspin.com/5667912/the-year-in-nfl-concussions-so-far-a-horrifying-video-compilation).  The Green Bay Packers' own Aaron Rodgers sustained two separate concussions, knocking him out of one of their biggest games of the year at the end of the season, with a chance at the playoffs on the line.  Whether it's players sitting out due to concussion or harsher fines for helmet-to-helmet hits or requiring all players wear thigh pads in 2011, the game has changed.  (I leave it to you to decide whether this is a greater indication of America switching to a risk-averse mentality, as discussed here: http://www.dennisprager.com/columns.aspx?g=acc8475b-3839-4a0a-aab4-f87755635828&url=from_yale_to_the_nfl_are_we_still_the_home_of_the_brave)

To the City of Chicago and fellow football fans: get used to it, because it's only going to continue down this path.  If you want to see "real" football, I suggest you pop-in your Time Life DVD copy of the "Ice Bowl," because the #1 overall draft with $50 million in guaranteed money isn't going to be able to insist that he play until he has to be carted off the field.

And, honestly, Chicago, did you really want a QB with a bad knee and a dinged-up throwing arm out there, trying to force play after play that just isn't going to happen?  Or would you rather have a coaching staff that prepares for a worst-case scenario and has a suitable back-up ready to go at a moment's notice (this coming from a Longhorn who knows all too well...)?

The NFL is now a world where running back by committee is the rule rather than the exception; the excuse that the back-up QBs just don't get as many reps in practice won't cut it for long.  The championship teams of the not-too-distant future, I predict, won't have the most versatility in plays alone, but in on-field leadership.

Does it suck to lose (yet again)?  Hell, yes.  But doesn't it suck even more not to learn from mistakes?