It's Saturday and the last week has seen some incredible and not-so-incredible occurrences. In the last seven days, we've had the NFL Hall of Fame elections, the Super Bowl, the NBA All-Star teams, the start of the Winter Olympics and the tragic death of luger Nodar Kumaritashvili, and my brain needs to get this stuff out so I can do things like remember to get a Valentine's Day card for my wife.
First of all, let's start with the Super Bowl. Crappy commercials notwithstanding, it was an entertaining Super Bowl unless you live in Indiana or are a member of the Manning family (though I think Cooper will get over the loss before the rest of the family will).
I found it interesting that one of the first video clips CBS showed in their preview was one of Archie Manning being planted in the turf by an opponent. I couldn't figure out if that was that a good omen (a Manning QB being hit) or a bad one (a Saints QB being hit) for Who Dat Nation?
By the way, when did every team's fan base become a "nation"? Is this one more thing stolen from Native Americans, or are sports fans become more delusional, thinking that their team has a national following? Some teams are worthy of it, given their widespread appeal: Yankees, Red Sox, Cowboys, and the Lakers all fit the bill. But if I hear someone use the term "Anteater Nation" to describe fans of UC Irvine's powerhouse volleyball team, I'm writing my Congresswoman.
Every time they award the Walter Payton NFL Man of the Year Award, it gets a little dusty in my house. RIP Sweetness, the greatest football player ever.
Even though Chicago didn't come near playing in it, Bear fans still got tweaked by the events of and surrounding the Super Bowl. As if a season that started with the potential of the playoffs as a seeming reality and ended with Jay Cutler leading the league in "Favres"...err, I mean totally stupid interceptions, a coordinator search that made the Bears the laughingstock of the NFL and the terrible death of Gaines Adams, we couldn't even enjoy the final weekend of the season as just impartial football fans. First, Richard Dent, a key member of the famed 46 defense and owner of 137.5 career sacks, gets hosed by the Hall of Fame voters, then the Colts tie a Bear record (longest touchdown drive in SB history) and after the Saints win, Chicago gets the title of "franchise that tanked enough to let Peyton Manning win a title." And, lest we forget, there's the Boostmobile commercial where the '85 Bears reprised the "Super Bowl Shuffle." (Perhaps why the HOF voters passed on Dent after all.) I shall now claw my eyes out.
As well as the Saints played and as great a job as they did executing (and as good a game as Sean Payton called), I think if Pierre Garçon doesn't drop that pass in the 2nd quarter, Indy is celebrating another title and Manning's legacy as an all-time great is secure. Indy was up 10-3 at that juncture and the Saints hadn't shown they were anywhere near capable of slowing the Colts down. If he caught it, Garçon gets at least to the 45 and the Colts are rolling to the end zone again. That drop allowed the Saints defense to catch their breath and settle down.
By the way, what was up with The Who at halftime? I know the NFL doesn't ever want a repeat of the Justin Timberlake-Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction, but does it mean they're going to go with geriatric halftime performers from now until the end of time? I can't believe everyone didn't get rich off the "Will Pete Townshend smash his guitar at the end of the performance" prop bet? The guy needed some HGH just to hold it up and play it, no WAY was he going to be able to swing it with enough force to smash it.
How difficult is it to find an act closer to their prime that won't embarrass the NFL? It sucked to hear "Wake Up" by Arcade Fire playing on the stadium PA when Simms and Nantz were talking towards the end of halftime because it made me think of about a hundred musical acts I would have rather seen than Daltrey and Co.
It's impossible to look back at the Super Bowl without talking about Manning and his legacy. This loss, if he never wins another title, is huge in how he'll be viewed over time. I was jotting down notes as I was watching the game and as he came out for the drive that eventually ended in the pick-six, I wrote, "5:35 remaining, Colts trailing by 7. Manning is ready to join the elite once and for all." It could hardly have been scripted any better for him. The NFL MVP, a year after his long-time coach retired, unquestioned leader of the Colts, consensus best quarterback in the league who was going to lead his team to a 4th quarter comeback in the Super Bowl. Instead, he throws the title-killing interception and that's what people will remember about that game 20 years from now. It won't matter that Hank Baskett tried to field an onside kick with his face mask or that Reggie Wayne crapped the bed in the same city where he played college ball or that the Colts' staff lost their balls at the end of the first half, giving the Saints a shot at a field goal and some serious momentum. Nope. It is a better (and easier) story to write that Manning came up short when it mattered most...again.
I watched the opening of the Winter Olympics last night. It was a decent ceremony, and the lighting of the torch never fails to give me goose bumps, but I needed a few Red Bulls to get through the middle part of the ceremony, the part where the host country tells its story or, as I call it, the part that sucks balls.
I get the fact that the hosts spend ridiculous amounts of money to put on the Games and they have earned the right to brag about themselves, but making the world sit through it to see the lighting of the torch is a bit like Adam Sandler right before he sings "Love Stinks" in "The Wedding Singer" - 'I have the microphone SO YOU WILL LISTEN TO EVERY DAMN WORD I HAVE TO SAY!' I would sing the praises of NBC if they just included a countdown timer to when the flame would enter the arena for the next Olympics. Seriously, does any true sports fan enjoy anything about the opening ceremonies apart from the parade of athletes, the carrying in of the Olympic flag, and the lighting of the cauldron? If I want to know the history of the host nation, I have a set of encyclopedias that work just fine, thank you.
As far as the lighting was concerned, I thought it was fine, even with the technical malfunction. It was perfectly Canadian that they had four people light it instead of just one. The choices were good too. Obviously, Gretzky had to be involved. Who else could have been the final recipient of the flame? I thought it was very cool they included Steve Nash, even if one of his MVP's should belong to Kobe.
It wasn't an all-time lighting, though. I don't think anything will top the archer lighting the cauldron in Barcelona in '92 with a flaming arrow - that still gives me chills (Rafer Johnson in '84 was outstanding too). It
And another thing, can't NBC offer a real-time Olympics channel? I didn't mind having to stay up late to watch events from the Beijing games because they were halfway around the world and nowhere near my time zone. But these games are in the Pacific, so why can't I watch the thing live at 6:00? Instead, I have to wait a few hours, and nearly get put to sleep by appropriately named "Landscape of Dreams" segment of the show, barely staying awake for the big moment.
Of course, every time I started to get really annoyed by the show, I would see a picture of or hear a mention of Nodar Kumaritashvili and his devastating
Finally, the death of Kumaritashvili is about as sad a thing as you'll ever find in sports. Living here in the US, we occasionally give attention to an unusual human interest story about an Olympian, but by and large most of the focus is on the athletes we expect to contend for and win medals. It is easy to overlook the fact that for an overwhelming majority of athletes participating, merely competing is a tremendous achievement, an accomplishment they will cherish for as long as they live.
Kumaritashvili was about to have that experience of a lifetime. He was practicing, getting ready to do his best in his sport's biggest showcase, to compete, to be an Olympian. At 21, he was on the verge of an experience about which he would be able to tell his children and grandchildren, something he would be able to look back at proudly. Instead, his life was snuffed out because of an accident, a miscalculation (and some bizarre construction on the luge course) and we are left to wonder why.
Death is a sad occasion for us, almost regardless of circumstances. But to see a young man with his dreams nearly within his grasp die at an event that "calls upon the youths of the world to assemble" (and I mean, literally, see, as NBC has shown the footage of his fatal crash) truly defines tragic. One could say he died doing something he loved, but I don't imagine that lessening the pain his family must be feeling right now.
If there is anything to be gleaned from this horrible accident, hopefully it will allow me and anyone else following the Olympics to put the events in their proper perspective if just for a little while. If Lindsey Vonn can't perform at her best because of her injured shin and doesn't win gold, fans shouldn't be distraught. If current world champion Kim Yu-na doesn't win her figure skating competition, her fans shouldn't be devastated. And if Canada doesn't win hockey gold, a nation shouldn't be in mourning. If the death of Nodar Kumaritashvili does nothing else, I hope it allows us to use those terms for when they truly matter and find more appropriate ones to apply to the games we watch and play.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Who's he taking to prom?
Having grown up in a time when the Commodore 64 was the ultimate in personal computing (figuring out the codes to change the screen color was a big day in my early geekdom), I have to say, for the most part, having Internet access the way we do now is pretty amazing. As a surfer, or having once been a surfer before my wife and I decided to triple our food bills, cut our sleep in half, and to square our stress level…I mean, before we decided to have children, it is great to be able to go on line and check live webcams of surf spots instead of spending copious amounts of gas and time looking for a spot that is breaking. Yesterday I realized that I had forgotten to renew a library book that was due, and instead of having to schlep downtown to the library, a few clicks and it was renewed. Problem solved courtesy of a few ones and zeroes.
For a sports fan, the Internet is part nirvana, part heroin. Want to watch highlights of Gale Sayers gliding past defenders? Just check youtube. Need to find out Fernando Valenzuela’s ERA in 1984? You can find it on baseball-reference.com (it was 3.03, by the way). For a stathead like me who devoured MLB box scores from the LA Times Sports section every morning, it’s awesome, beautiful, and dangerously addicting. And don’t get me started on the impact it has had on fantasy sports, because my wife has a divorce attorney on speed dial ready for the next time I mention how many fantasy points Chris Johnson scored for my team this season.
However, there are a few drawbacks to having near-instant access to tons of information, even for sports fans. It used to be early February was a time for sports fans to talk about who won the Super Bowl, check in on the conference races in college basketball, and ask when do pitchers and catchers report for spring training. It was a time for gearing down before the late-March/early-April crush of the NCAA tournament, the start of baseball season, and the Masters (leading into the NFL draft and the NBA playoffs and ensuring that most husbands in America would spend at least 10 nights sleeping on the couch). It was a time to re-introduce yourself to the family, maybe take care of a few hundred chores, and throttle back a bit. Now, sports nuts around the country are consumed by Signing Day.
For those of you who aren’t college football fans, Signing Day is the first day when graduating high school seniors can sign a letter of intent with the colleges of their choice, accepting scholarships to play football. For college football fans, Signing Day ranks perhaps just behind the BCS championship as the most important day on the calendar.
Actually, it is probably the biggest day on the calendar for fans of the college game. The BCS Championship only has two teams competing, and usually has a third team bitching about not being picked for the game. On Signing Day, every team gets to play, so to speak. Every fan has something to talk about, results to compare, stars to count, and predictions to make.
It used to be that to find out about UCLA's recruits (and USC's), I would read the little story in the LA Times the day after Signing Day and read some summaries of players I had never seen nor heard of before in my life.
Now, thanks to the Internet, fans like me spend months wondering if this SuperDuperCantMissRecruit (SDCMR) or that SDCMR will choose their favorite school. We'll have watched countless grainy youtube clips of high school games where the SDCMR's of our dreams have run roughshod over players who have more Clearasil than athletic tape on their bodies. We'll read so many updates that we'll include Tom Luginbill, Greg Biggins, Tom Lemming, and Brandon Huffman on our Christmas card lists. We'll hear 134,598 stories about top players that come from inside sources such as, "My son's teammate's sister's best friend who knows the cousin of the trainer at Player X's school said that he likes Florida State" and treat them all as gospel. We won't remember our children's birthdays, but we'll remember what Jackson Jeffcoat was wearing in his latest picture on Facebook.
Signing Day is like Prom and recruiting turns grown men into high school girls. After a SDCMR visits the school you root for, the message boards for that school look something like this: “What did he say? Does he like you? He said he likes you? OMG! So, does he like you like you, or as a friend like you? GTG call me later, k thx bye.”
And when the SDCMR visits another school (especially a rival) and has a good visit, the boards look something like this: "He needs to get over himself. He ain't all that. Seriously, you can do better than that. Whatever, I'm so over him. Like that shirt he wore on Tuesday was so awful - gag me. Can't believe he'd want to go with someone else. r u ok? Luv u, call me, bye."
National Signing Day breaks fans' hearts and gives fans delusions of grandeur. Miss out on a top prospect and you're hoping the guy tears both ACL's on his way to his refrigerator (that's from an actual post I saw on a message board today). Get a 5-star player, and you start looking to see where the next three BCS championships are going to be played.
As a UCLA fan, past Signing Days have been excruciating experiences. When Pom Pom Pete Carroll was at the University of Simpson's Cellmates, err...I mean USC, Signing Day was filled with the Trojans getting more SDCMR's than they knew what to do with. Meanwhile, Karl Dorrell would have long filled the Bruins' scholarship allotment with plenty of sleepers who didn't have much competition (or much chance of being a difference-maker). Bruin fans would literally be shocked when we signed one player of national significance, and we'd wonder why it seemed every top player in the city went to the school where players have been hit by stray bullets from drive-bys instead of the one located in the hills of Westwood.
However, with the arrival of Rick Neuheisel last season, UCLA finally had a coach willing to go toe-to-toe with the Evil Empire across town for the top recruits in the area, actually pulling in a few that 'SC wanted last season. And with Carroll's departure and Monte Kiffin's son taking his place, I actually arrived at a Signing Day with some optimism.
I had to work today, but thankfully it was a half day, so I could spend more of my valuable time agonizing over the whims of adolescent males. Some guys took today off from work so they could follow it more closely (if I ever do that, my wife has permission to seek a divorce immediately). My dad was sly enough to schedule his knee surgery early this morning so he could spend time "recuperating" with the television on (I guess ACL stands for Always Check Letters of Intent?).
Many of the top players have made their choices known for weeks, but there are plenty who have waited until today to make their decisions, with the biggest names having press conferences televised on ESPNU, Prime Ticket, or other media outlets. The fans either watch tv, check every web site possible (I think I had tabs open for Bruinsnation, rivals.com, scout.com, ESPN, and SI.com all day today), call people in the know, or some combination of all three.
If a player with a televised conference has your school under consideration, the tension is brutal as they lead up to his decision. To go back to the prom date idea, you are wondering if he'll pick the hot captain of the cheerleading squad with rich parents and a great personality (a school like Florida or Texas), the girl who looks great in a formal dress but would rather you take her to a ballgame (UCLA), or the slutty chick who looks good in all the right places but will end up giving you the clap (USC).
Honestly, most fans probably don't care about the way these kids conduct themselves, speak, or do in class so long as they contribute to plenty of wins on the field during their college careers. However, it's always good when you can get a player who will represent your favorite school well off the field as well as on it. That's why the day started off well for the Bruins when linebacker Jordan Zumwalt picked UCLA over Stanford. Stanford doesn't usually admit athletes who can't spell the name of their school mascot (unlike USC commit Markeith Ambles, who thinks he committed to the "Trogans"), so I feel good about the quality of this young man.
After missing out on a DT from Utah (that stung - you can never have too many linemen), the next target was an über-stud defensive end from Oregon, Owamagbe Odighizuwa. Seeing as how the Bruin defensive ends rush the passer with the same effectiveness that Flounder rushed Omega Theta Pi in Animal House, this guy would be a huge get (to use a favorite term of recruiting junkies) for the Bruins. Nebraska and Oregon State were vying for his services as well. However, once the young man stood up and began talking about academics, UCLA fans started getting excited, and when he put on a powder blue UCLA hat, there was practically a cyber-riot at Bruinsnation.com. Services were calling this the most important defensive recruit for UCLA in 4 years and by and large this was the best news of the day.
But there was more to come - three LA area players Josh Shirley, Anthony Jefferson, and Dietrich Riley decided to come on over to Westwood. Shirley and Riley were heavily recruited by the University of Spoiled Children as well, so to win those battles was icing on an already rich cake (no need to shed any tears for the ketchup-and-mustard crew, they managed to snag plenty of good recruits, earning top class once again). Thank God I'm not a college football coach, whose livelihood is subjected to the whims of these hormone-laden gridiron greats. Shirley committed to UCLA despite having never visited, and not having them in his final four schools the day before (according to various recruiting services).
All in all, it was an epic Signing Day for the Bruins who snagged five SDCMR's today and showed Los Angeles and the nation in general that they will not back down from the University of Serial Cheaters. Today was a day where Bruin fans could start to dream about seeing the Blue and Gold in BCS bowls in the near future. Neuheisel and his staff should be commended for an excellent job on the recruiting trail.
Now they need to spend the next six months getting the team ready to win games this fall, and I need to spend the next six months learning how to pronounce Odighizuwa.
For a sports fan, the Internet is part nirvana, part heroin. Want to watch highlights of Gale Sayers gliding past defenders? Just check youtube. Need to find out Fernando Valenzuela’s ERA in 1984? You can find it on baseball-reference.com (it was 3.03, by the way). For a stathead like me who devoured MLB box scores from the LA Times Sports section every morning, it’s awesome, beautiful, and dangerously addicting. And don’t get me started on the impact it has had on fantasy sports, because my wife has a divorce attorney on speed dial ready for the next time I mention how many fantasy points Chris Johnson scored for my team this season.
However, there are a few drawbacks to having near-instant access to tons of information, even for sports fans. It used to be early February was a time for sports fans to talk about who won the Super Bowl, check in on the conference races in college basketball, and ask when do pitchers and catchers report for spring training. It was a time for gearing down before the late-March/early-April crush of the NCAA tournament, the start of baseball season, and the Masters (leading into the NFL draft and the NBA playoffs and ensuring that most husbands in America would spend at least 10 nights sleeping on the couch). It was a time to re-introduce yourself to the family, maybe take care of a few hundred chores, and throttle back a bit. Now, sports nuts around the country are consumed by Signing Day.
For those of you who aren’t college football fans, Signing Day is the first day when graduating high school seniors can sign a letter of intent with the colleges of their choice, accepting scholarships to play football. For college football fans, Signing Day ranks perhaps just behind the BCS championship as the most important day on the calendar.
Actually, it is probably the biggest day on the calendar for fans of the college game. The BCS Championship only has two teams competing, and usually has a third team bitching about not being picked for the game. On Signing Day, every team gets to play, so to speak. Every fan has something to talk about, results to compare, stars to count, and predictions to make.
It used to be that to find out about UCLA's recruits (and USC's), I would read the little story in the LA Times the day after Signing Day and read some summaries of players I had never seen nor heard of before in my life.
Now, thanks to the Internet, fans like me spend months wondering if this SuperDuperCantMissRecruit (SDCMR) or that SDCMR will choose their favorite school. We'll have watched countless grainy youtube clips of high school games where the SDCMR's of our dreams have run roughshod over players who have more Clearasil than athletic tape on their bodies. We'll read so many updates that we'll include Tom Luginbill, Greg Biggins, Tom Lemming, and Brandon Huffman on our Christmas card lists. We'll hear 134,598 stories about top players that come from inside sources such as, "My son's teammate's sister's best friend who knows the cousin of the trainer at Player X's school said that he likes Florida State" and treat them all as gospel. We won't remember our children's birthdays, but we'll remember what Jackson Jeffcoat was wearing in his latest picture on Facebook.
Signing Day is like Prom and recruiting turns grown men into high school girls. After a SDCMR visits the school you root for, the message boards for that school look something like this: “What did he say? Does he like you? He said he likes you? OMG! So, does he like you like you, or as a friend like you? GTG call me later, k thx bye.”
And when the SDCMR visits another school (especially a rival) and has a good visit, the boards look something like this: "He needs to get over himself. He ain't all that. Seriously, you can do better than that. Whatever, I'm so over him. Like that shirt he wore on Tuesday was so awful - gag me. Can't believe he'd want to go with someone else. r u ok? Luv u, call me, bye."
National Signing Day breaks fans' hearts and gives fans delusions of grandeur. Miss out on a top prospect and you're hoping the guy tears both ACL's on his way to his refrigerator (that's from an actual post I saw on a message board today). Get a 5-star player, and you start looking to see where the next three BCS championships are going to be played.
As a UCLA fan, past Signing Days have been excruciating experiences. When Pom Pom Pete Carroll was at the University of Simpson's Cellmates, err...I mean USC, Signing Day was filled with the Trojans getting more SDCMR's than they knew what to do with. Meanwhile, Karl Dorrell would have long filled the Bruins' scholarship allotment with plenty of sleepers who didn't have much competition (or much chance of being a difference-maker). Bruin fans would literally be shocked when we signed one player of national significance, and we'd wonder why it seemed every top player in the city went to the school where players have been hit by stray bullets from drive-bys instead of the one located in the hills of Westwood.
However, with the arrival of Rick Neuheisel last season, UCLA finally had a coach willing to go toe-to-toe with the Evil Empire across town for the top recruits in the area, actually pulling in a few that 'SC wanted last season. And with Carroll's departure and Monte Kiffin's son taking his place, I actually arrived at a Signing Day with some optimism.
I had to work today, but thankfully it was a half day, so I could spend more of my valuable time agonizing over the whims of adolescent males. Some guys took today off from work so they could follow it more closely (if I ever do that, my wife has permission to seek a divorce immediately). My dad was sly enough to schedule his knee surgery early this morning so he could spend time "recuperating" with the television on (I guess ACL stands for Always Check Letters of Intent?).
Many of the top players have made their choices known for weeks, but there are plenty who have waited until today to make their decisions, with the biggest names having press conferences televised on ESPNU, Prime Ticket, or other media outlets. The fans either watch tv, check every web site possible (I think I had tabs open for Bruinsnation, rivals.com, scout.com, ESPN, and SI.com all day today), call people in the know, or some combination of all three.
If a player with a televised conference has your school under consideration, the tension is brutal as they lead up to his decision. To go back to the prom date idea, you are wondering if he'll pick the hot captain of the cheerleading squad with rich parents and a great personality (a school like Florida or Texas), the girl who looks great in a formal dress but would rather you take her to a ballgame (UCLA), or the slutty chick who looks good in all the right places but will end up giving you the clap (USC).
Honestly, most fans probably don't care about the way these kids conduct themselves, speak, or do in class so long as they contribute to plenty of wins on the field during their college careers. However, it's always good when you can get a player who will represent your favorite school well off the field as well as on it. That's why the day started off well for the Bruins when linebacker Jordan Zumwalt picked UCLA over Stanford. Stanford doesn't usually admit athletes who can't spell the name of their school mascot (unlike USC commit Markeith Ambles, who thinks he committed to the "Trogans"), so I feel good about the quality of this young man.
After missing out on a DT from Utah (that stung - you can never have too many linemen), the next target was an über-stud defensive end from Oregon, Owamagbe Odighizuwa. Seeing as how the Bruin defensive ends rush the passer with the same effectiveness that Flounder rushed Omega Theta Pi in Animal House, this guy would be a huge get (to use a favorite term of recruiting junkies) for the Bruins. Nebraska and Oregon State were vying for his services as well. However, once the young man stood up and began talking about academics, UCLA fans started getting excited, and when he put on a powder blue UCLA hat, there was practically a cyber-riot at Bruinsnation.com. Services were calling this the most important defensive recruit for UCLA in 4 years and by and large this was the best news of the day.
But there was more to come - three LA area players Josh Shirley, Anthony Jefferson, and Dietrich Riley decided to come on over to Westwood. Shirley and Riley were heavily recruited by the University of Spoiled Children as well, so to win those battles was icing on an already rich cake (no need to shed any tears for the ketchup-and-mustard crew, they managed to snag plenty of good recruits, earning top class once again). Thank God I'm not a college football coach, whose livelihood is subjected to the whims of these hormone-laden gridiron greats. Shirley committed to UCLA despite having never visited, and not having them in his final four schools the day before (according to various recruiting services).
All in all, it was an epic Signing Day for the Bruins who snagged five SDCMR's today and showed Los Angeles and the nation in general that they will not back down from the University of Serial Cheaters. Today was a day where Bruin fans could start to dream about seeing the Blue and Gold in BCS bowls in the near future. Neuheisel and his staff should be commended for an excellent job on the recruiting trail.
Now they need to spend the next six months getting the team ready to win games this fall, and I need to spend the next six months learning how to pronounce Odighizuwa.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Sunday Pass
As anyone with young children knows, finding time to do what you want without the possibility (or absolute certainty) of being interrupted multiple times is extremely difficult. That’s why today was quite the treat, as I got approval from my wife to go watch the Lakers-Celtics game with my good friend and Laker die-hard Jonathon. We haven’t been able to get together (he has two young ones of his own) since the NBA Finals last year, so this was definitely a treat.
Before that, though, I attended mass (no I didn’t ask the Big Guy Upstairs for a Laker win…though I thought about it) and experienced one of the more unusual homilies I’ve heard. The New Testament reading was the well known from 1 Corinthians regarding love and so the priest, who has an unusual cadence to his speaking which makes it difficult to follow what he says when he’s speaking to you, wanted to tie his sermon to the reading. So he started off his homily by singing, “I want to know what love is. I want you to show me.” That definitely was the first time I’ve heard Foreigner quoted in a sermon. For years I thought they were a semi-cheesy 80’s band –I may have to rethink my position (Foreigner as late 20th century prophets? Who knew?) At least the priest finished the homily with a classic, as it ended with the congregation all singing a few lines of the Beatles’ “All You Need is Love.”
So after that religious experience, I settled in with Jon for a different sort of religious experience, Lakers-Celtics. To say there is no love lost between these two franchises is to say Sunnis and Shiites have a difference of opinion about religion. When I was younger, there was no team I hated more viscerally than the Celtics. The regular season games were life-and-death, and their NBA Finals contests were Armageddon for me. More than once my mother threatened to yank my TV viewing privileges as she could not take the venomous rants that streamed forth from my mouth during those games. Every Celtic was Satan's spawn, every Celtic fan was some primordial life form, every foul called against the Lakers was another example of Red Auerbach paying off the referees. Each of these games wasn't just one for the standings - these games mattered.
Then the Celtics hit a bad stretch - Len Bias overdosed, Kevin McHale and Larry Bird had their bodies break down, Reggie Lewis tragically died, and the Celtics no longer mattered. They weren't good enough to hate. During the 2001 NBA Finals, at halftime of Game 3 (featuring the Lakers and the Philadelphia 76ers) NBA showed a few songs from the U2 concert at the TD Banknorth Garden and I remember making the crack to Jonathon that the NBA had this planned way in advance because they knew the Garden would be free in June. We both got a good laugh, as we didn't mind seeing the Celtics suffer while our Lakers prospered, but it's more fun when they suffer at the hands of the Lakers.
As the Lakers worked their way from the post-Magic era into the Shaq-Kobe one, new rivals had to be found because the old one wasn't up to the task. The Spurs and Kings were worthy foils and while I enjoyed watching the Lake Show vanquish these teams frequently, I found myself probably 95% as happy with those titles as with the ones that came at the hands of the Celtics. Then came the ugly Shaq-Kobe divorce following the 2004 Finals meltdown and a period of down years for LA.
Then 2007-2008 happened. Kevin McHale decided to help out his old team by gift wrapping Kevin Garnett and sending him to Boston, the Sonics did the same with Ray Allen, and the Celtics were a force to be reckoned with once again. On the other coast, the Lakers went from having Kobe demanding a trade to having the Grizzlies send Pau Gasol in a trade that the rest of the NBA still complains about to this day. The two rivals were back atop the NBA, and the hatred of the green and white was back to 1980's levels.
However, the Celtics abused the Lakers in the Finals, exposing the Purple and Gold as soft and weak. Laker fans had to endure a sight not seen since 1984 - the Celtics celebrating a title at the expense of the Lakers. What made that series even worse was the Lakers blew a 20 point lead in Game 4 AT HOME and then completely mailed in Game 6, losing by a gazillion. It was a brutal defeat, bringing up questions about the collective heart and manhood of the Lakers. They answered many of these questions a year later, as the Lakers toughened up enough to handle the Magic (who eliminated the Celtics) and match the Celtics triumph of 2008.
But it didn't really match it in the eyes of most Laker fans. It was great to see them win, but there was a dish of revenge that didn't get served since Boston wasn't the vanquished opponent. So as this season began, I found myself not only rooting for a Laker championship, but for the Celtics to win the East.
Which brings us to today's game, the first between those two teams this season. I'll choose to ignore the fact that the Celtics are struggling and Lebron and the Cavs are the team to beat in the NBA right now, because it's still Celtics-Lakers.
Sitting at the bar, beer in hand, no children distracting me, Lakers-Celtics on the TV right in front of me - to quote former Bills' coach Marv Levy: "Where else would you rather be than right here right now?"
And for the first 12 minutes, it was glorious. The Lakers, younger, taller, and healthier, used all those advantages in running out to a 30-19 lead after the first quarter. They hit big threes, they got easy shots at the rim, they played defense, they attacked and drew fouls from a team they had been reluctant to attack in years past. Of course, it helps that Kevin Garnett is playing with a cast on his leg (don't tell me that's a sleeve - it's white, it covers up most of his leg, and KG is dragging that thing as if he were auditioning for a part in "Zombieland").
Then, for the next two and a half quarters, the Lakers proceed to play the the exact opposite of how they started the game. They decided to ignore their considerable advantage in the post and decide to try and outscore the Celtics from the perimeter, ignoring the fact that Bynum owned the Celtics in the paint, scoring 12 points and dunking on Garnett's corpse. It probably didn't help that Pau decided to channel Kwame Brown for this game, dropping pass after pass after pass after pass. When these things happen, the Laker offense becomes an unwatchable series of Kobe desperately trying to create something (usually a forced jump shot) mixed in with the random three jacked up early in the shot clock by any one of Odom, Brown, Artest, or Farmar.
On defense, they let Rajon Rondo do the only thing he can do on offense - drive to the basket. Seriously, they should hold up signs when guarding him, saying, "Please shoot the ball. We'll pay you." His jump shot is the basketball equivalent of Charles Barkley's golf swing. However, the Lakers decided to go over the top on screens for him, giving him alleys to the basket and letting him set up his teammates, including Paul Pierce (only the league's top 3-point shooter) for three wide-open I can file my taxes, drink a cup of coffee, and check my stocks on line before anyone can get here to guard me three pointers.
Understandably, the child-free afternoon Jon and I were experiencing was becoming less enjoyable with each trip up and down the court (fortunately, the bartender, a friend of Jon's and serious Kings fan - I know that seems like a contradiction in terms - served up a mixture of trash talk with the occasional free shot, helping us on the path to numbing our pain).
However, by the middle of the fourth quarter, the Lakers realized that in a basketball game, going to the rim on offense is actually a good thing, and letting Rondo shoot jumpers isn't a bad idea either. Not only that, but they actually let their most effective player, Bynum, touch the ball on consecutive possessions.
As an aside, this is the aspect of the Lakers that probably drives me craziest. As fantastic a player as Kobe is, as skilled an offensive weapon as he is, when the Lakers offense has post players who can score down low (like Shaq, Gasol, or Bynum), the offense runs so much better when they get the ball to the post early in the shot clock. I still think Kobe tries to win on his terms at times and the team ignores the post for lengthy stretches way too much. That said, Bryant's work ethic and determination are second to none in the league, and there's nobody else I would want with the ball with the game on the line.
The Lakers eventually cut it to 1 point and needed a stop to have chance at winning and what happened next nearly killed me from shock: the referees called an offensive foul on Paul Pierce (with referee enemy no. 1 Ron Artest drawing the foul, at that). Granted, Pierce did his best Heisman imitation, throwing a stiff arm that would make Adrian Peterson proud, but to see that call made in Boston at that time was perhaps one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse.
Now with the game on the line, there was no surprise who would get the ball and take the shot, whether it was a good or bad one. The biggest surprise was Bryant passed it before getting it back and nailing a jumper with Ray Allen doing everything but wearing Kobe's jersey for him. It was a terrible, forced, amazing, brilliant shot that sucked the air out of the arena and led to Jon and I (and a few other purple-and-gold patrons) disturbing the more genteel customers on the patio of the restaurant.
But honestly, I could have given a damn about the dirty looks coming from outside. The Lakers had just taken the lead and would get the win after Ray Allen's jumper clanged off the rim like all his other shots today. All that was left was to call my Celtic-loving brother-in-law to ask him the score (and cackle while hearing his stream of profanities) and soak in the moment.
I guess moments like that are why I let complete strangers affect my mood so much.
Before that, though, I attended mass (no I didn’t ask the Big Guy Upstairs for a Laker win…though I thought about it) and experienced one of the more unusual homilies I’ve heard. The New Testament reading was the well known from 1 Corinthians regarding love and so the priest, who has an unusual cadence to his speaking which makes it difficult to follow what he says when he’s speaking to you, wanted to tie his sermon to the reading. So he started off his homily by singing, “I want to know what love is. I want you to show me.” That definitely was the first time I’ve heard Foreigner quoted in a sermon. For years I thought they were a semi-cheesy 80’s band –I may have to rethink my position (Foreigner as late 20th century prophets? Who knew?) At least the priest finished the homily with a classic, as it ended with the congregation all singing a few lines of the Beatles’ “All You Need is Love.”
So after that religious experience, I settled in with Jon for a different sort of religious experience, Lakers-Celtics. To say there is no love lost between these two franchises is to say Sunnis and Shiites have a difference of opinion about religion. When I was younger, there was no team I hated more viscerally than the Celtics. The regular season games were life-and-death, and their NBA Finals contests were Armageddon for me. More than once my mother threatened to yank my TV viewing privileges as she could not take the venomous rants that streamed forth from my mouth during those games. Every Celtic was Satan's spawn, every Celtic fan was some primordial life form, every foul called against the Lakers was another example of Red Auerbach paying off the referees. Each of these games wasn't just one for the standings - these games mattered.
Then the Celtics hit a bad stretch - Len Bias overdosed, Kevin McHale and Larry Bird had their bodies break down, Reggie Lewis tragically died, and the Celtics no longer mattered. They weren't good enough to hate. During the 2001 NBA Finals, at halftime of Game 3 (featuring the Lakers and the Philadelphia 76ers) NBA showed a few songs from the U2 concert at the TD Banknorth Garden and I remember making the crack to Jonathon that the NBA had this planned way in advance because they knew the Garden would be free in June. We both got a good laugh, as we didn't mind seeing the Celtics suffer while our Lakers prospered, but it's more fun when they suffer at the hands of the Lakers.
As the Lakers worked their way from the post-Magic era into the Shaq-Kobe one, new rivals had to be found because the old one wasn't up to the task. The Spurs and Kings were worthy foils and while I enjoyed watching the Lake Show vanquish these teams frequently, I found myself probably 95% as happy with those titles as with the ones that came at the hands of the Celtics. Then came the ugly Shaq-Kobe divorce following the 2004 Finals meltdown and a period of down years for LA.
Then 2007-2008 happened. Kevin McHale decided to help out his old team by gift wrapping Kevin Garnett and sending him to Boston, the Sonics did the same with Ray Allen, and the Celtics were a force to be reckoned with once again. On the other coast, the Lakers went from having Kobe demanding a trade to having the Grizzlies send Pau Gasol in a trade that the rest of the NBA still complains about to this day. The two rivals were back atop the NBA, and the hatred of the green and white was back to 1980's levels.
However, the Celtics abused the Lakers in the Finals, exposing the Purple and Gold as soft and weak. Laker fans had to endure a sight not seen since 1984 - the Celtics celebrating a title at the expense of the Lakers. What made that series even worse was the Lakers blew a 20 point lead in Game 4 AT HOME and then completely mailed in Game 6, losing by a gazillion. It was a brutal defeat, bringing up questions about the collective heart and manhood of the Lakers. They answered many of these questions a year later, as the Lakers toughened up enough to handle the Magic (who eliminated the Celtics) and match the Celtics triumph of 2008.
But it didn't really match it in the eyes of most Laker fans. It was great to see them win, but there was a dish of revenge that didn't get served since Boston wasn't the vanquished opponent. So as this season began, I found myself not only rooting for a Laker championship, but for the Celtics to win the East.
Which brings us to today's game, the first between those two teams this season. I'll choose to ignore the fact that the Celtics are struggling and Lebron and the Cavs are the team to beat in the NBA right now, because it's still Celtics-Lakers.
Sitting at the bar, beer in hand, no children distracting me, Lakers-Celtics on the TV right in front of me - to quote former Bills' coach Marv Levy: "Where else would you rather be than right here right now?"
And for the first 12 minutes, it was glorious. The Lakers, younger, taller, and healthier, used all those advantages in running out to a 30-19 lead after the first quarter. They hit big threes, they got easy shots at the rim, they played defense, they attacked and drew fouls from a team they had been reluctant to attack in years past. Of course, it helps that Kevin Garnett is playing with a cast on his leg (don't tell me that's a sleeve - it's white, it covers up most of his leg, and KG is dragging that thing as if he were auditioning for a part in "Zombieland").
Then, for the next two and a half quarters, the Lakers proceed to play the the exact opposite of how they started the game. They decided to ignore their considerable advantage in the post and decide to try and outscore the Celtics from the perimeter, ignoring the fact that Bynum owned the Celtics in the paint, scoring 12 points and dunking on Garnett's corpse. It probably didn't help that Pau decided to channel Kwame Brown for this game, dropping pass after pass after pass after pass. When these things happen, the Laker offense becomes an unwatchable series of Kobe desperately trying to create something (usually a forced jump shot) mixed in with the random three jacked up early in the shot clock by any one of Odom, Brown, Artest, or Farmar.
On defense, they let Rajon Rondo do the only thing he can do on offense - drive to the basket. Seriously, they should hold up signs when guarding him, saying, "Please shoot the ball. We'll pay you." His jump shot is the basketball equivalent of Charles Barkley's golf swing. However, the Lakers decided to go over the top on screens for him, giving him alleys to the basket and letting him set up his teammates, including Paul Pierce (only the league's top 3-point shooter) for three wide-open I can file my taxes, drink a cup of coffee, and check my stocks on line before anyone can get here to guard me three pointers.
Understandably, the child-free afternoon Jon and I were experiencing was becoming less enjoyable with each trip up and down the court (fortunately, the bartender, a friend of Jon's and serious Kings fan - I know that seems like a contradiction in terms - served up a mixture of trash talk with the occasional free shot, helping us on the path to numbing our pain).
However, by the middle of the fourth quarter, the Lakers realized that in a basketball game, going to the rim on offense is actually a good thing, and letting Rondo shoot jumpers isn't a bad idea either. Not only that, but they actually let their most effective player, Bynum, touch the ball on consecutive possessions.
As an aside, this is the aspect of the Lakers that probably drives me craziest. As fantastic a player as Kobe is, as skilled an offensive weapon as he is, when the Lakers offense has post players who can score down low (like Shaq, Gasol, or Bynum), the offense runs so much better when they get the ball to the post early in the shot clock. I still think Kobe tries to win on his terms at times and the team ignores the post for lengthy stretches way too much. That said, Bryant's work ethic and determination are second to none in the league, and there's nobody else I would want with the ball with the game on the line.
The Lakers eventually cut it to 1 point and needed a stop to have chance at winning and what happened next nearly killed me from shock: the referees called an offensive foul on Paul Pierce (with referee enemy no. 1 Ron Artest drawing the foul, at that). Granted, Pierce did his best Heisman imitation, throwing a stiff arm that would make Adrian Peterson proud, but to see that call made in Boston at that time was perhaps one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse.
Now with the game on the line, there was no surprise who would get the ball and take the shot, whether it was a good or bad one. The biggest surprise was Bryant passed it before getting it back and nailing a jumper with Ray Allen doing everything but wearing Kobe's jersey for him. It was a terrible, forced, amazing, brilliant shot that sucked the air out of the arena and led to Jon and I (and a few other purple-and-gold patrons) disturbing the more genteel customers on the patio of the restaurant.
But honestly, I could have given a damn about the dirty looks coming from outside. The Lakers had just taken the lead and would get the win after Ray Allen's jumper clanged off the rim like all his other shots today. All that was left was to call my Celtic-loving brother-in-law to ask him the score (and cackle while hearing his stream of profanities) and soak in the moment.
I guess moments like that are why I let complete strangers affect my mood so much.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Hello Nobody
If you are reading this, you most likely clicked on the wrong link and are about 2 seconds from leaving. Either that, or you are a family member who decided to click over here to: A. Help me feel better about my blog by giving me a "reader" or B. Check to see if I was making fun of you on the Internet. Regardless of how you got here, welcome to my Not So Wide World of Sports (and Other Stuff). Basically, I am starting this blog because I am a sports nut who spends too much time writing, reading, and thinking about them and also because I have had a number of family members tell me I should be writing about sports (probably to keep me from talking their ears off about games they haven't seen or players they couldn't pick out of a police lineup).
I've decided to call this the Not So Wide World of Sports in part as an homage to the ABC sports show I watched as a child, but also because I don't necessarily intend for this blog to cover a plethora of topics (or to appeal to a large number of people). While I keep up on many sports (too many if you ask my wife), my teams, the ones that bring me great joy and brutal pain, are the Los Angeles Dodgers, UCLA Bruins, Los Angeles Lakers, Chicago Bears, and FC Barcelona. Those would be my top tier teams that I root for with a passion that is most likely unhealthy and probably taking years off my life. There are other teams (LSU, LA Kings, LA Galaxy, San Diego Chargers, Notre Dame, Boston Red Sox, and Sevilla Fútbol Club) that I root for or want to see do well for a variety of reasons (family ties, used to live there, they had players I loved when I was young), but my Fab 5 are the ones that significantly impact my life.
So I shall be using this blog as a means of talking about the various ways athletically gifted strangers affect my life, as well as other items, events and happenings that occur. Hopefully you will find it entertaining and worth the occasional visit. If not, at least I'll get these thoughts out of my head.
I've decided to call this the Not So Wide World of Sports in part as an homage to the ABC sports show I watched as a child, but also because I don't necessarily intend for this blog to cover a plethora of topics (or to appeal to a large number of people). While I keep up on many sports (too many if you ask my wife), my teams, the ones that bring me great joy and brutal pain, are the Los Angeles Dodgers, UCLA Bruins, Los Angeles Lakers, Chicago Bears, and FC Barcelona. Those would be my top tier teams that I root for with a passion that is most likely unhealthy and probably taking years off my life. There are other teams (LSU, LA Kings, LA Galaxy, San Diego Chargers, Notre Dame, Boston Red Sox, and Sevilla Fútbol Club) that I root for or want to see do well for a variety of reasons (family ties, used to live there, they had players I loved when I was young), but my Fab 5 are the ones that significantly impact my life.
So I shall be using this blog as a means of talking about the various ways athletically gifted strangers affect my life, as well as other items, events and happenings that occur. Hopefully you will find it entertaining and worth the occasional visit. If not, at least I'll get these thoughts out of my head.
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