St Johns Red Storm Basketball v Duke and 2009-2010

Still haven't warmed to the Red Storm name. Let's go Red-men. clap-clap-clapclapclap.

We watch sports for hope that one day we'll get to revel in a championship. I root for the Mets, they haven't won since 1986, when I was but a wee coach on Pop Dukes' lap. I root for the Knicks, they haven't won since 1973. I root for the 'Gers, who won in 1994, but it's hockey. I root for the Giants, who won in 2008, which was a blast but I don't care much for football. I root for Manchester United, who have won a ton, and while I've watched some of their title-clinching games in bars and at home with Coups and Pops, it's different and ultimately hollow to cheer for a team from a different country and culture. Lastly, I cheer for St. John's, who have never won an NCAA championship. But in 2003 St John's won the NIT at the Garden, and Frownie and I were there. It was the greatest sporting event I've been to, culminating with Frownie and I rushing the Garden floor alongside Frownie's new friends the Elijah Ingram's family, and running into fellow Johnnie -lover Josh Dick under the hoop.

Like almost every other metro-area team, the Johnnies have fallen off the face of the earth. Coach Norm Roberts has restored stability to the program. While stability is important considering that NCAA violations under Mike Jarvis forced the Johnnies to relinquish that 03 NIT Crown, it only goes so far for a program as storied as St. John's.

It's criminal that the NYC metro area is a college basketball wasteland considering that the area seeds so many national powers with players. West Virginia, Kansas, Cincy and Kentucky are amongst the programs to have benefited from metro players in recent years. Sure, kids want to go away to college, but surely some must want to stay at home. And players from outside the area must want to come to play for a program that plays its home games at Madison Square Garden.

What's ironic is that this fallow period for St. John's comes during an era where the school has invested massive sums in building dorms in making a transition from a commuter school to a campus-based school. This should be an added bonus for recruiting, but Roberts has yet to even get the Johnnies back in the NIT. Inexcusable.

This season likely represents Roberts' last stand, and so far he's doing the best he can with the team off to a 6-0 start, including a win over back-to-back March Madness members Siena.

Also not the biggest fan of their new "STJ" logo.

The season turns for-real-for-real this Saturday when the Johnnies take on Duke at Cameron. In a further sign of St. John's' downfall Duke has decided to end this series. Part of the appeal for Duke was the chance to play a game in the Garden every two years. The Garden was once St. John's' ultimate recruiting advantage. But these days, MSG plays host to almost as much college baskets as it did in the golden age of the 50's.

Surprise! This is what Duke's best player looks like. His name is Kyle Singler.

St. John's usually plays Duke tuff. This game and their next against Gawgia represent their only two significant out-of-conference games for the rest of the season. In a down year for the Big East, it better be an up year for St. John's.

Shocking Real Video Footage of Tiger Woods Accident (via Taiwan)

Mayhap many you are tired of the endless Tiger Woods coverage. Or maybe some of you are confused by all the differing accounts of what happened.
Where to turn to get the facts? With American Journalism dying rapidly, the Taiwanese have thankfully stepped in to set the record straight.
So, here it is, the first, the last, Nay, the only word needed on Tiger Woods' "accident." Slight translation needed, perhaps, but really, this succinct video speaks for itself.

Overheard in L.A.

older man, neat-looking, all-white hair, k-mart slacks, all-white e-z strider sneakers, dragging a large suitcase on wheels in souf santa monica at ten in the morning, speaking on an enormous cell phone:

"Tonight? No, I've completely lost the taste for fish, you know. When I bottomed out and lost everything I was eating canned mackerel every day..."

I Call My Brother Sunn Cuz He Shine Like One

Al Harrington's kicks cost $35

The refs aint blind

Not quite sure what to make of the demolition tonite at the Garden. The Sunns not giving a fuck? The Italian Stallion playing D? There was even a Jordan Hill sighting, ugh, I think Renaldo Balkman was smoother around the hoop at this point. What are the odds the Knicks whiff with LeG.O.D.D., Flash, or Bosh and end up with Amare aka Antionio McDyess Part II?

Swing the Bat There, Big Boy! or, Mike Francesa's Brother Will Teach You How To Pitch, or Jeff Lynne of E.L.O. is Difficult to Look At.

Via the always-entertaining Uniwatch, footage of Terrific Tom Seaver's first game on the mound from 1967. Watch the footage and tell me you don't get nostalgic for Shea.


There was a time, a long time ago, when I modeled my pitching on Tom Terrific. I figured, I've got the trunks, may as well make use of them. Of course, I never did pitch effectively for too long. Bryman had a bit of Seaver in him as well, in so far as that his left knee would almost kiss the earf, pope-style, during his delivery. Cannatar made use of his stems as well, but, oddly enough, he seems to end up cross-legged at the end. The Bizman always appears to be all-arm.

In recent years, I've shifted my focus from my gams to my wrist, as Mike Marshall advocates. Using two deliveries based on pronation, I've found increased accuracy, if not velocity.

Which somehow brings me to the following insanity/video. Mike Francesa's brother, in both accent and looks, will help you INSTANTANEOUSLY achieve an ideal pitching motion. Peep the gold watch on his left watch. That's so he can constantly clock all the cold hard cash that he melts into pomade. Do you know what's behind that garage door? Did you guess sadness? Would you have guessed that this operation is based out of Staten Island? Actually, I appreciate this guy's intentions. Doesn't mean the product is worth it but it is worth focusing on the wrist. His heart is in the right place.



Also worth noting that the one non-baseball-training related video is a video for E.L.O.'s "Telephone Line" featuring a coked-out-of-his-fucking-mind Jeff Lynne. It's hard to look at him. Little known fact, Jeff Lynne always wears shades because he lost his eyeballs in a back alley in Bangkok betting that "Evil Woman" was not the greatest piece of pop rock ever written. Ever a man of integrity, he knew it was, but he could not, would not, bet on himself. But he can still see right through your shit.

Chasing Weeb & Joe

Weeb Ewbank, winner of two titles with Baltimore Colts in his previous stint, and Joe Namath, "the greatest athlete I ever coached" according to Bear Bryant.

Rex Ryan, first-year head coach displaying all of his father's blustery disposition and disdain for non-defensive aspects of the game, and Mark Sanchez, brief pupil of Pete Carroll. Of Bryant, Namath had this to say: "Not only the smartest coach I ever knew, but the man who taught me the meaning of integrity." I don't think anyone's ever uttered 'smartest', 'integrity' and 'Pete Carroll' in the same sentence.

Happy Thanksgiving New York

Guard Yo Grill. That dude on the lower right is peeping your shit.

So much to be thankful for on the New York sporting scene. The middling Giants. The wayward Jets. The regressing Knicks. The historically abysmal Nets. The underachieving 'Gers. The overachieving but still bad Isles (bro). The invisible Devils. The fallen-off-the-face-of-the-earth Johnnies of St. John's. Did I mention how well the Red Bulls (bro) and the Mets did this year?

Man, does any town have it as bad as NYC right now? With this much losing it's no wonder chumps like Jay-Z have to overcompensate with the over-the-top bragging. Welcome to New Yawk. Gobble-Gobble, suckers.

Vote or Die

In the wake of Thierry Henry's blatant handball that gave France the win over Ireland to advance to the World Cup, I've got a poll up at EPL Talk asking whether soccer should add another referee by each goal or start using video replay.

The Final Verdict on David Lee

David Lee clumsily driving to the rock with probably his only move.

"...He is vastly overrated: listen, I'm not knocking him... well I guess I am."

-Mike Francesa

Mike never had strong opinions on the Knicks' power forward that has few offensive skills, can't quite guard 4s but grabs a lot of double-doubles, until one call from an overzealous fan and defender, elicited a damning response. Both Lee and Nate Robinson, the 'see, at least Isiah can draft!*' guys, had to squirm until a few weeks before preseason to sign one-year deals, and it's pretty clear neither will have places on the team next year, especially Nate after his debacle in the Meadowlands last Saturday. David might move on to become an 8th or 9th banana on an elite team -Spurs, maybe- and Nate might possibly light up an And1 tour somewhere.

*Granted, Isiah salvaged his awful Channing Frye pick in 2005 by trading the homeless man's Tim Duncan, Kurt Thomas, to the Suns for Nate and the pick to get David, but let's not apologize for his catastrophic reign with some nice fantasy players he picked late in the draft.

Not Bad

Chose this pic cuz it sorta looks like Ray Allen may be about to dunk but clearly not.

Employee #5

The Knicks put up a good fight today. Best that can be said. Celts played em for fools on the last play, but to the Knicks' credit, that shot was a tad outside KG's range. The 'Bockers are playing better of late, and it's bout time. As bad as the team is, they are not as bad as their start suggested. Call me brazybrains, but this team as currently constituted should be scrapping for an 8th seed, not looking to give the Jzz the first pick in the draft.

Waterloo, Part Deux

The most irrelevant Michigan-Ohio State tilt in memory lacks the obvious juice involved -no national title or Rose Bowl bids, but can at least stir some interest based solely on the performance of Rich Rodriguez's Wolverines. No one needs to be told a representative showing (re: cover the 11.5) could at least allow the outgoing athletic director to stall for time to give Rodriguez one more season, but will his troops stand tall for their leader who drilled and worked them just too much?

Whatever the outcome, it's certain Rodriguez being outed is a matter of when, not if. It's a shame he left West Virginia, his alma mater and school he made his stamp in for the greener pastures at Ann Arbor, because it soured all the good work he did in Morgantown. He's one of the brilliant tacticians of the spread offense -along with Urban Meyer- who turned West Virginia into a solid program and the Big East into a credible conference, thanks to his victory in the 2006 Sugar Bowl. Some questioned from rumors of his hire at Michigan whether his system would fit into the school's proud tradition of running a pro-style offense, but even after flashes of brilliance from Tate Forcier and the offense, he's been unable to plug his sieve of a defense, and his list of enemies grows everyday -much like our first Waterloo participant. There's no doubt this will end ugly.

I just hope Rich can rebound somewhere -would have to be a Big East or mid-major- and run his spread in peace and perhaps Jim Harbaugh can take the reins in Ann Arbor and knock Jim Tressel off his perch as king of the small pond, er Big Ten.

Al K. Mza Has Lost his Appetite

Al K. Mza has got no Jet-recipes for you today. He is sick to his stomach. Here are his thoughts:
----
With apologies to Chris Onstad, It's a FUCK YOU FRIDAY!
Andre Agassi! Fuck you!
Theirry Henry! Fuck you!
Allen Iverson to the Knicks! Fuck you!
----
***UPDATE***
It appears that the Knicks are making the right call by not signing A.I. More for A.I.'s sake. A great player like Iverson deserves better than to spend his last dayz playing absolutely meaningless games and not being part of the general baskets conversation. He deserves to play for a peripheral contender.

The Knicks need to concentrate on finding a draft pick for next summer, since the Jzzzz currently hold theirs. They need to find hungry young players from the 10-day contract group of ballers.

Footie Footie Footie

Uniwatch linked up my piece on World Cup jerseys.

Also got a review of new Nike cleats up at EPL Talk today.

Fuck Yo Couch...I Mean, Fuck Yo Weak Ass Attempt on Goal. AKA is Rick James Still Alive and Living as a Retired Colombian Goalkeeper???

This clip is extraordinary for many reasons. It's from an England-Colombia friendly in 1995. Rick "Motherfuckin-Hit-After-Motherfuckin-Hit-Superfreak, Mary Jane, Ghetto Life, Cold Blooded, Party All the Time, Hollywood, Glow, Ebony Eyes,-"James in goal for the Colombians. Seriously, it's Rick James. Prove me wrong.

It gets better. So in the 22nd minute, England's Jamie Redknapp fires a relatively harmless shot towards goal, where Colombia's goalkeeper, Rick James, posing as "Rene Higuita," instead of catching it, or punching it to safety, defies belief and SCORPION KICKS it clear. He did it 'just-cuz." A must-peep.

Pop Your Collar

New post up at EPL Talk about the success rate of collared shirts in the World Cup.

You Only Think You're Free...

The actual miniseries is OK... though Johannesburg or whatever South African city they picked to film flashback scenes bears very little resemblance to New York. But part of me wonders what my boy, Sir Christopher Lee could've done as 2. BTW, if you're a producer looking for a poor man's Christian Bale, Jim Caviezel is your man. And does AMC know how to cast actresses with personality, or what? Hayley Atwell's got it in spades.

Is there such a thing as Jets pride?

The hunch - the beers - the jersey -- it says it all.

At least next year, our camo-hat-and-under-hoodie-wearing-walrus-stache-rocking-walking-man has this to look forward to...
that's right, our new stadium is an air conditioner.

Mets Hot Plate Report...

...because ownership at Chez Coupon are unable to afford a stove, oven or even microwave. Watch Omar add a dash of Vicente Padilla and a spoonful of Austin Kearns on minor league invites to a severely depleted Met bowl, and if he really impresses the restaurant's owner, he might be able to splurge on locally grown products Mark DeRosa and Jason Marquis. Of course, the big fish Omar prizes is Met-killer Joel Piniero, a spicy dish known to fizzle when put in the hands of the wrong pitching coach. Bon Appetit!

SOJ

I'm pretty sure an eight-year old playing Madden knows how to conserve timeouts better than Rex Ryan -though he isn't alone in the league, which is a little embarrassing.
I'm also certain players given a full week off will tackle poorly the next game.
I'm never surprised by the Jets finding new and exotic ways to lose each week.
I'm positive the Jets will have another losing record in the Meadowlands this season*.
And I am convinced by the Jets' long track record there and early returns by the Mets a very legitimate case can be made for a Curse of Shea Stadium.

Rex, have another burger (words from Joe Benigno reserved for Eric Mangini), go get a defensive coordinating gig somewhere and quit wasting everyone's time as a head coach. Maybe there is a reason you never got a job for so long.

*Just wait for the debut of SheaHey's! LOCK OF THE UNIVERSE, Sunday January 3rd against the Bengwads.

If we aint getting mathematics then somethin got to give

Bryman comes throo with an excellent analysis of LeBron's proposed jersey number change. LeG.O.D.D. has indicated that he will rock #6 next season, explaining, "My second-favorite player was Julius Erving, and he wore No. 6. I wore 32 in high school because Dr. J wore it at first. My first child was born on Oct. 6, it's my Olympic number, my second child was born in June."

A tad convulted but reasonable nevertheless. But the science of numerology is not to be trifled with by amateurs. Has LeBron consulted with professional practioners? Pros like Prodigy, "fuck the myths, the science of numbers is how I live, if we aint getting mathematics then something got to give." (free the P!) Or Ghostface, "it's manifested, the Gods work like appliances, dealing in my cypher I revolve around sciences." The ideas that the Five Percent Nation associate with each of the numbers 1 throo 10 are explained in Brand Nubian's "Allah and Justice." The number 6 is associated with "equality."

The number 7, as explained by the RZA in the Wu-Tang Manual, is Godly, and is often associated with the 5 percent who have a clue. The number 6, being one below God, is the earth, and is often associated with women. Under this interpretation, LeBron would be wise to avoid the number.

However, LeBron could be taking a page from Joe Girardi's book. Girardi took the number 27 upon becoming the Yanks' manager, symbolizing his quest to bring the thirsty axe-spray masses a 27th championship. LeBron could be recognizing that he has not achieved Godly status just yet, and will wear number 6 until such status is attained.

Either way, it is good to see LeBron shedding his Jordan idolatry. The search for an identity of one's own is an essential step on the path to maturity. As No I.D. titled his classic, "accept your own and be yourself."

A warning for LeBron tho, for through such research he will feel the joy and the hurt.

SuperBeef

Phil Mushnick is usually right on. He's right about how late start times are bad for the future of sports. He's right to attack greedy owners on PSLs. He's right to attack the WWF every time another superstar passes before their time. In Monday's column, he was wrong to state that Jimmy the Greek was fired for saying the same stuff that rappers like Jay-Z are embraced for. He cites how the Yankees' adopted Jay-Z's "Empire State of Mind," as an example of supposed hypocrisy because the song uses racially offensive language. He goes on to state, correctly, that Hovie's lyrics glorify violence, drug dealing and disrespect towards women.

The distinction that Mushnick fails to make is that Jimmy the Greek spoke for himself, while Jay-Z writes fiction set to music.

For whatever reason, the mainstream media holds rap to a different standard than other forms of pop culture. Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci are not attacked for playing gangsters on film. Richard Price is not attacked for writing violence-soaked, offensive language-filled crime novels. More to the point, The Rolling Stones, Van Halen, Aerosmith and other bands whose music is used at sporting events, are not attacked for lyrics celebrating drug and alcohol abuse and general misogyny. Frank Sinatra and Liza Minnelli didn't lead the cleanest of lives, yet the Yanks play their music.

Unless we want to return to a world where Oscar Wilde is put on trial for obscenity or Pat Boone covers Little Richard's "Tutti Frutti" to make it more safer for impressionable white youth, then we should continue to allow artists in all forms of pop culture to express themselves freely.



It would be different had Jimmy the Greek written a work of fiction where a character expressed racist opinions. But he didn't. He spoke for himself at a time when he appeared on network TV as himself. CBS had every right to dismiss him. What the Greek said in real life is not the same as what Hovie says in song. Moreover, while some of Hov's lyrics are offensive, to ask the Yankees or any other sports team to not use songs by bands or artists that are not "offensive" is to ask them to use no music at all as you'd be hard-pressed to find a band or artist from the past 50 years of popular music who haven't offended someone at some time or another. Sean Salisbury aside, it's much easier to find unoffensive studio analysts.

My New Alarm Clock--Guaranteed to Wake U Up.

Veterans Day

Today is the 11th day of the 11th month. Unfortunately, Nike chose this week to unveil their line of "Pro Combat" college football uniforms. Besides being unusually dull (is that the best they could do with the bright colors of the U?), the use of the term "combat" and parking tanks on campuses at a time when we are still fighting two wars is unusually offensive. After September 11th there was chatter that do-or-die rhetoric in sports would fade away. It did, temporarily.

It's all the more offensive that Nike would use college kids for this campaign considering that the bulk and pain of actual war combat falls on college-age kids. Stay classy Nike!
Thanks to Uniwatch for the pictures.

Bern Baby Bern

If you could boil down the Mets ineptitude to just one sweet satin jacket..."Bernie, yeah, yeah, It's Me, Fred......Fred Wilpon, y'know, of Sterling Equities, listen, I'm looking to invest.....

Nothing in this post should be meant to imply that the Mets should blow a bunch of dough on John Lackey, Matt Holliday and Chone Figgins.

Image from Federal auction of Bernie Madoff's crap.

...And Justice for None

Got a column up at EPL Talk about the latest blatant dive in soccer.

Overheard in Malibu

A portrait of Gene Shalit as a young man.

I was playing Ultimate Frisbee this past Friday night (I know, I know). After one player let the 'disc' slip between his legs, another player, an esteemed Professor-of-Law at that, remarked, "heh-heh, reminds me of that play Bill Buckner made second base for the Cubs in the World Series."

Stupid Naming Rights

I've got a column up at EPL Talk that should be interesting even to non-soccer fans as it deals with the naming rights issue. While peeping around the corners of the internet for images, I came across this insane Colonel Sanders of KFC album. Could it be real? May we all someday know the happiness expressed by this family.

A MUST-PEEP

I beg you, please peep the video found in this article. This clip is about soccer, I know, but it is still a must-peep. First off for the insane Geordie/northeastern England accents, but more importantly, far more importantly, for the dude who appears at the 1:10 mark. Completely bizarre. Maybe he is a former pig who is the victim of a curse. Could star in a remake of Steve Martin's "Roxanne."

Sad...But True

Don Bigdoodo strolls the streets of Little Italy, like Don Homer before him, sampling donuts and basking in the glow of nailing the World Series. Don Biggz, like Frownie, was right. It's sad...but true. Only Homer Simpson dubbed in Italian could cheer me up.

Logo Trippin

I've designed a logo for EPL Talk's Podcasts.

Young Money Finna B Old Loot.

Brandon Jennings merits our respect. He said "Fuck You" to the corrupt college basketball and its enforced system of free labor. He said "Fuck You" to the Knicks for not doing the right thing and drafting him. And he says "Fuck You" to the corny Cribs idea of what wealth looks like.

A recent New York Times profile reveals that he pushes a Ford Edge. He lives in an apartment near the Bucks' training facility. Or as the Times put it, "far from downtown Milwaukee and its beckoning nightlife." I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, off to souse their souls in the French Quarter, the Deuce, the Sunset Strip, the Tenderloin...and downtown Milwaukee. No wonder Todd "Who" Day of Paul's Burger Wall of Ill Fame never made it.

Jennings, through three games, is dropppping 22, 5 and 4 while the Bucks play feisty. Nor is the only rookie picked after the Knicks selection to be making meaningful contributions in the yung season. Ty Lawson, DeMarre Carroll, Chase Budinger and DeJuan Blair are all impressing. Meanwhile, here are Jordan Hill's stats thus far:

Shhhh, the Stallion is Sleeping

This is a stallion, resting. Majestic.

This is the Italian Stallion. He is 21 years old.

Danilo Gallinari is off to a blistering start, scoring wise at least. He's shooting 47% from the field, 50% from way downtown-YES! But how promising can his career be if he spends his bench time impersonating Larry Bird in his last days?

The Knicks have four youngsters worth developing. Of those, David Lee and Nate Robinson already seem to have reached their potential. Nate is an excellent off-the-bench weapon. David Lee could be as valuable to a team as Dennis Rodman and Ben Wallace were. Wilson Chandler could grow into a central role. Gallinari could be the next Wally Szczerz or Tommy Guggz.

Al Harrington is a swell guy who sells cheap sneakers. Larry Hughes has a winning smile. Chris Duhon looks tired. Jared Jeffries needs to eat a burger before he becomes Swizz Beatz. Darko's lasting legacy may be giving a name to fantastic blog. Jordan Hill is the guy who will represent our collective regret for not taking Brandon Jennings. Toney Douglas? He aint Sherm.

The team, ehhh, not so much. 1-4 and conceding 117 points a game. Their one win came Monday nite against a Hornet team has possibly the worst bench of any playoff team. There was a time when Byron Scott looked like the man DMX would age into. Jail hasn't ruined DMX' striking looks like it has so many others, but now he kinda resembles James Worthy.

With the Nets also off to an abysmal start, the race for the metro area's best team should be quite the schnooozer. At least they both catch love in Hov's generic latest, "Empire State of Mind." (remember, he stays hood but lives in Tribecks). Lebron will have quite the choice to make.

Talkin footie

New post up at EPL Talk on the debut of a Man United youngster.

Many Questions...

...but at least we have a definitive answer to "what should Mark Sanchez's nickname be?" Sanchize is corny and reminds me too much of Steve Francis. After last week's hot dog-gate and this week's over the top celebration -could he have held the ball any further off his body on the way to the endzone?- on his bootleg, it's absolutely appropriate Mark Sanchez -only John "Carlos BELTRON/Rafael FOURcal" Miller is allowed to call him SanCHEZ- shall henceforth be called "El Chorizo."

Meanwhile, if the Jets are gonna sign kickoff returners from the street, why not give Chad Morton a call? He must have as much left in his tank as Justin Miller does in his. And Larry Izzo must still be tending to his burn wounds.

What do the Lakers have to do to be loved in L.A.? And, Chris Erskine of the LA Times Fancies Beyonce and Enos Slaughters' Speed

Shocking results of an LA Times poll asking its readers, "Which is your favorite sports team?" At last check, with more than 13,000 votes in, USC came in at #1. Which is frankly lame because a college team should not be the fave of the second biggest city in the country. A city should not pin its sporting hopes and dreams on the shoulders of a bunch of unpaid kids. The Angels came in at #2, which I guess is kind of cool. The Lakers, coming off an NBA title and fully reloaded to win again, came in at #3, barely fending off the Galaxy #4, and UCLA, #5. The oddly unpopular Dodgers come in next, in a virtual tie with the Kings.

What gives with the lack of Laker love? Certainly it's not Clipper-Crazies, they came in with a strong 1% of the vote, groveling in the gutter alongside Chivas USA and the LA Sparks. Do glamorous Laker fans find Lamar's betrothal to the ugly Kardass sister unseemly? Do Randy Newman-crazed Laker loyalists hate rap music? Did the Rally Monkey fuck with the results? Do the Lakers need to grow Beckham beards?
I almost didn't see the poll, as I was wallowing in yet another chumpy column from a writer, Chris Erskine, who wrote the kind of observational drivel Andy Rooney would wipe his ass with.
Erskine writes of his love/hate relationship with baseball. "Baseball can be too much of a good thing sometimes. As if Beyonce were born twins." Can you fathom....two Beyonces!?!? Would Taylor Swift ever win an award in such a sexy world?
Baseball is too long for the man, "Hey, here's an idea: 100 games, seven innings each. I never said it was a good idea. Just an idea." You just know he thinks its a brilliant idea, but he cuts off the reader's initial negative reaction through Sophist self-effacement. Savvy.

The column should have ended there, on a high note, but with a clear lack of an editor's guidance, the musings meander on.

"I'm missing baseball already, this awful, splendid game--more fickle than life itself." Oh, I didn't realize that RANDOM DEATH was a daily part of baseball. But you know what? You just never know if a hard-hit ball will find the gap or a glove. Fickle-pickle.

"Baseball isn't a sport, it's a fetish." Like wanting to tickle Beyonce's inner thighs with your sandy mustache as your glasses fog up.

"New York is where the wild things really are. Fans there ought to have rabies shots." I didn't thinkc sheep with cell phones ould transmit rabies.

"Yep, 30 teams started the season and one (or two) are still alive. What other activity suffers casualties like this?" Oh, I don't know, hmmmm......MAYBE EVERY OTHER SPORT ON THE FACE OF THE FUCKING EARTH.

"If baseball were a song, Willie Nelson would sing it. If baseball were a country, it'd be invaded by Lichtenstein." If baseball were cereal, it'd be Grape Nuts. If baseball were tits, it'd be Marcy D'arcy's.
"Sure, baseball can be pure poetry: ivy on brick; mustard in your fingernails; Enos Slaughter sprinting back to the dugout just because." Enos Slaughter played his last game in 1959.

He rambles on to his insane childhood. "Suburbs were tougher then. The things we did with firecrackers would make a modern mother retch." And Beyonce cream. What a rebel. And Ersky, kids today are into sexting, sniffing glue and skateboards, oh, and not reading the paper.

Is there an end in sight? "So fret not, Dodger fans. Life goes on. These days, there dusts mites in my mustache and hints of winter in my knees...Pitchers and catchers report in about 100 days." Which is how long the season should be! What a great/awful idea!

Remember, the LA Times costs 75 cents a day and is shedding readers faster than Enos Slaughter sprinting back to the dugout. It's so easy for newspapers to blame their problems on the internet instead of ignoring the timeless rule; "content is king." People read sites like Deadspin partly because its free, true, but also because its content is funny and entertaining. Which is what a sports section should be.

Freddy & the Sports Guy

Understandably, Bill was running out of gas -I wonder if he occasionally has lapses on the blackjack table during late night runs- by the time I got him to write Sheed's tenet -that I take to heart everyday- but he should get credit for catching 'sobe' before correcting it. Major hat tip to coach for reminding me of one of my favorite quotes: I was prepared to have Bill churn out a Rocky quote, but the bar staff wisely instituted a five word limit to save Bill's wrist and sanity.

When told his spat with Mike was tearing me apart, he replied, "well he started it." Et tu, Francesa?

Taking All the Fun Away

Your pal Coachie here. Those who know me know that I hate the Yankees. Yet, the Yankee fans that I know, the MZA, NedStarr, Seamus and Don Bigdoodo amongst others, are all rational, even-tempered, unoffensive and genuine baseball fans. Their fandom is not in your face, in short they are the exact opposite of the kind of fan the song "Yan-kees, How Ya Doin?" was written for and appeals to. Deep down, I know most longtime Yankee fans are not assholes. Moreover, the young fans who do indeed ask, How Ya Doin?, I mean, can you blame them? Those yougsters cannot remember a time when the Yankees were not a World Series contender. In short, I still hate the Yankees. But here is the Big Dood to shed some light on what the "quiet majority," as Nixon would put it, feel at this time of year.
---------------
Any World Series featuring the Bronx Bombers presents a fantastic opportunity for run of the mill Yankee fans to crawl out the Teaneck woodwork, beat their barrel chests unrepentantly and thumb their collective noses at their Queens and Boston rivals. But for the more analytic, self conscious members of the old breed, the World Series is less a path to coronation and more a troubling reminder that we are closer to being damned for what we’ve done than damned for what we did not do.

This is the plight of the Yankee fan with a conscience. If we win, it was handed to us. If we lose, we dropped it.

Really Yankee fans, where’s the fun? We are all Edward the Longshanks. We command a mercenary force, remaking our one-time foes into temporary loyalists for a pittance of cold hard sterling – sending the likes of C.C. Sabathia, Johnny Damon, Alex Rodriguez, A.J. Burnett and Mark Texeira off to glory or death at the whims of our fleeting interest. I’ve probably hated half the members of the team at one point or another.

To be sure, the occasional rebel uprising gets the better of the advances of our empire, but what’s the difference? Ultimately the pin-striped tide laps all shores. We celebrate in bunches where other would be ascendants clamor for dew drops of glory a generation at a time.

By any rational measure, I would not ever root for this club. But reason has no business where baseball allegiance is concerned. As Yankee fans we have all inherited the throne of an empire that has spun far beyond our ability to comprehend it’s necessity, utility or appeal. Getting to think too much of it makes the head spin and when the pitches start flying and the bats start twirling we can only ignore the spectacle or join in cheer along with the great unwashed. Ultimately we are pushed to a decision. Shit or get off the pot. Pick a new team, quit enjoying baseball, or root for the team we’ve inherited.

I enjoy baseball and I can’t root for anyone but the Yankees. So what’s a fan with a conscience to do? I try to remember the dark days, when I lived in California in the early 90’s. I think back to my poor parents who would reluctantly drive me down to Anaheim stadium, where my heart would be broken by the likes of Dave Righetti, Don Slaught, Mike Pagliarulo, Elvaro Espinoza, Roberto Kelly, Andy Hawkins etc. When I cared most, my team was the worst, I tell myself. But I followed them like a religion anyway. There was no YES network then. No satellite TV. Just box scores in the morning paper. And every summer morning I would wake up early and wait to hear that paper hit the pavement in the driveway before running out to see if Yankees were possibly turning it around – perhaps chipping a game or two away at the lead held by the Red Sox or Blue Jays or whomever else was embarrassing them that particular year. When I think about those dark days, about being laughed at by kids my age wearing Dante Bichette jerseys, I don’t feel all that guilty… am not embarrassed by the riches.

PREDICTION

If the Yankees take all the fun out of baseball for the rest of the league, I’m afraid you’ve got bad news coming.

The Phils are not winning this series. Their pitching is just not good enough. Chan Ho Park is not shutting down this lineup. Cole Hamels and Pedro are in trouble. Joe Blanton is as good as dead. Brad Lidge is another Joe Nathan waiting to be exposed.

Philly has a nice lineup – an ‘american league lineup’ as the media chorus would have it. But it’s not as deep as New York’s. The Yankees, 1-9, are a mechanized pitch drain. They don’t chase, they get into bullpens, and they abuse them.

It was bound to happen eventually – it was just a matter of time before the Yankees were actually able to buy the best team available and have all that talent show up at the same time. They are not swallowing expensive mistakes this year. No Jason Giambis, Randy Johnsons or Carl Pavanos. Just top flight players earning their checks for a change. It’s amazing it took 9 years for this simple-minded strategy to pay off, but here it is.

I think the series will be exciting but not as exiting as people hope. I see it going six games and being similar in tone to the ALCS.

Phillies will probably take one of the first two, maybe even the first, startling everyone and gearing us up for a seven game barn burner, but the Yankees will come back and take the first two games in Philly. The Phillies will send it back to NY but will unceremoniously crap out in game six and that will be it.

And something a little less acute than joy will wash over me. Maybe beer.
---------------

Vindicated

Sometimes, it's good to know that other people think the same way we do.

The legendary Peter Vecsey writing about how Donnie Walsh really, truly hasn't done much of any real rebuilding.

And the underrated George Willis, talking about Leon Washington, seconding the thoughts Freddie Coups had on Sunday.

Clash of the Titans

One October afternoon, Mike Francesa brought up the subject of ESPN's ballyhooed "30 for 30" documentary series, and gleefully took the opportunity to jab both Bill "The Sports Guy" Simmons and the Worldwide Leader:

"Bill, the more the chances he gets to speak for ESPN comes off like a stooge... he's gone from being a guy you get a kick out of to a guy who's fronting for ESPN... No one wants to hear from Simmons anymore."

Which first stunned Simmons:

"Wait a second, Mike Francesa thinks that I'm the one who's a "stooge" and a "fraud"?"

And was followed by a counter, directed by his trainer:

"In all seriousness: I remain a big Francesa fan & wish I could have called in + argued with him today. ESPN house rules prevailed. Too bad."

"Of course, if Mike Francesa would like to appear on the BS report, we can definitely arrange it. Would love to have him."

Mike deftly evaded the blow before dropping this vicious left hook:

“If they would like to invite me to chat with Bill on his whatever-it-is… his website? [Simmons] doesn’t even have a show. [A podcast] is not a show… THIS is a show. Here’s what I’d say to Bill: Bill, get a show, and then you can invite me on your show. That’s not a program you’ve got… what do you want to call it, some kind of a little electronic get-together? Please. We want somebody to be able to hear you, to see you. If we do it at your place, nobody’s gonna know it’s happened. We want there to actually be record of it. We want somebody to actually hear it. It’s called an audience.”

Easy call for the judges there: Francesa 10, Simmons 8.

That was the end of the fight, until Mike was given a DVD of the Jimmy "the Greek" piece today, which Mike used to remind the audience of his upbringing at CBS in the 80's during both the Greek's and The NFL Today's heyday. Mike considers himself one of the authorities on the Greek, no doubt one of his gambling mentors -wouldn't you love to see a dramatization of a wide-eyed apprentice Mike scooping up all the valuable tips from the venerable master Greek?- and has to make it clear to listeners that somehow his blessing would validate the documentary.

Of course, the big picture here is ESPN's moratorium on their employees from appearing on WFAN, presumably enforced to give its hideous, god-awful 1050 station a puncher's chance against 660 -who the hell listens to Michael Kay, the Shame of my Bronx Science? Mike used to enjoy having Jeff Van Gundy, Mike Breen and other personalities on his show, but now takes his revenge on the WWL by taking shots at them whenever possible, including Kenny Mayne's "Mayne Street" bit with Bill, prompting another SG tweet:

"Francesa's Mayne Street digs sounded hilarious. Can we have a group intervention with him? Even Jurassic Park didn't have bigger dinosaurs."

and this not-so-subtle-uppercut:
"Mike, you're too young to play the "I don't understand podcasts or web series" card. Still 8 yrs away. We can't lose you to Geezerville yet."

Nice little dig in the end there, but while Mike may not be ancient, he's ruled his roost long before Bill became "The Sports Guy" and deserves a bout on his terms. Give us the Fight of the Century, ESPN. After all, If I can change...

Thanks to TheFantasy555Podcast for the transcripts.

Sigh...

Yankees fans have a message for the Phillies and their hometown: This ain't Rocky, and the underdog won't win!

"The Yankees are going to make Philly cream cheese out of them," a confident Tommy Bayiokos, 44, predicted yesterday in Midtown.

"Philly fans are a bunch of whiners and should learn how to dress. They should try reading GQ."


Yup, just another reason I don't even touch the local rags anymore.


Though I would like to meet Mr. Bayiokos. I could use some fashion tips.

I Wanna Dip My Balls In It!

This here is a portrait of no one's main man Trent "I'll Shoot You In Your Mutherfuckin' Face" Tucker.* The walking, stalking definition of "quiet as kept." He'd chill, cop not quite a mill, then, when you least expect, he'd drop a gem on you If Chuck Person was the "Rifleman," then Trent was the "M.F.'n-Mack-10-Man," str8 spraying your shizzy up. The NBA had to change its rules because of the man, and, in keeping with David "Peep the Union I'll Burn, Strokin my beard while my dredyl steady turns" Stern's M.O., no trace of Trent Tucker video highlights may be found.

This season starts in Trent Tucker's spirit. It has come out of nowhere, with no fanfare save a Sports Guy preview not up to his usual caliber, tho he can be forgiven due to his mammoth and eagerly anticipated basketball bible coming out. Much like its sister, the NHL, the baskets campaign is far too long. And by sisters, I mean like the difference between Kim and Khloe Kardashian.
The 1999 50-game season is much-maligned, particularly by the aforementioned Sports Guy. But it was perfect. This time around, the season starts a little sooner than its traditional Halloween start, and for once, I'm glad. Half-speed who-cares October hoops will provide a welcome distraction from the inevitable Yankee onslaught. Plus, no more dreary eastern conference hoops for my tanned ass, strictly exotic west-coast-is-the-best-coast action. I will miss the free 'za and random Smadbeck bros. sightings at Standings during hoops season. In my memories its always pouring buckets outside and I always stop at one slice.

In closing, may we all face life's challenges as hungrily as Rick "The Need for Feed" Mahorn.
*Nickname coined by NedStarr

Terry Francona Once Had Hair on His Head.

"No, no, Terry......it's cool........Weaver's not looking.....just...just move your hand a little to the left. Yeah, that's it. No, no, why are you hesitating? Stop smiling like that you goofball, you're killing the mood. C'mon.....just a little to your left...."

photo throo Uniwatchblog.com

What Price, Victory?

Training camp contract disputes are almost always treated with the same response by the media and fans that Player X is a 'spoiled athlete' and should be 'thankful' they're compensated in the first place. But you have to feel for tail back Leon Washington, who showed up everyday -to be fair, he couldn't afford the fines he'd incur based on his meager rookie contract salary- and received some sympathy from the media, though not enough attention was paid to Jets' general manager Mike Tannenbaum's practice of deceiving and low-balling players -including guard Pete Kendall. But now Leon has a broken leg -after being sandwiched by four Raiders- and can only hope the front office appreciates his contributions to the team, no matter what Shonn Greene -refreshing change of pace from the crappy Shawn and Sean Greens the Mets have trotted out- contributes the rest of the way.

On a happier note, handing the hapless Oakland Raiders their worst home loss in franchise history still feels good, especially coming off the outrageous claim by defensive end Richard Seymour that they were a playoff contender. Giants' linebacker Antonio Pierce was still correct in referring to the Giants 44-7 pasting over Oakland two weeks ago as a 'scrimmage,' and the Raiders merely caught the Philadelphia Eagles in their annual 'throw 50 times when it is wholly unnecessary and have the fans throw Donovan McNabb and Andy Reid under the bus' game. Coach Poppers and Donovan will adjust and do just fine Monday night against the Washington Redskins -former star John Riggins' bashing of the organization was cute at first, but now he's just an attention whore that likes the sound of his own voice. So while the Jets can't strut and beat out their chests after their conquest in Oakland, they can go into the Miami Dolphin rematch with some confidence in both their running game and the emergence of wideout David Clowney -someone's gotta benefit from the attention Braylon Edwards draws. Maybe linebacker Calvin Pace can even make some tackles.

P.S. As much as this perpetuates Rex Ryan's reputation as a loosey-goosey leader more interested in making his players happy than competitive, how great was his assist in the Gatorade shower for assistant head coach/offensive line coach/ex-Raiders head coach Bill Callahan? Total eff you to a brooding Al Davis -what was the towel draped over his lap for?

Et Tu, Magique?

Now Your Name is Just 'Toine.

LEAVE ISIAH ALONE! Jeezo-Peezo I feel like that he-she who defended Britney. Magic "How The Fuck Was A.C. "Never Mean" Green His Roommate?" Johnson is the latest to shit on Isiah, in a new book he sez Isiah questioned his sexuality, the whole world did at the time. Has Magic called Karl Malone out? Charles Barkley? Magic goes on to say that he, along with the rest of the Dream Team, did not want Isiah to play in the Olympics. Truly fucked. I have a hard time believing that Scottie "Oh, the Knicks? Same Shit, Different Season*" Pippen gave two shits. Let's not forget, in some racist-ass nonsense, that Christian Laettner was on that team

Aint it a bitch, to kick a man when he's down. And why the fuck is Magic dropppping a book? He already has a book, a great one, called "My Life." I read it concurrently as Larry Bird's "Drive." Magic's book is far better. Although Larry Bird gets proppps for not fronting by admitting that he is a competitive asshole on every page.

Is dissing Isiah the shit Magic has been waiting 20 years to get off his chest? In a book about the golden age of hoops?

Meanwhile, Isiah's old squidad, the Knicks, begin the season with what Sports Illustrated appropriately calls "an expansion roster." This is not necessarily a bad thing. The team's best three players are Isiah's, Wilson "Chilllll" Chandler, David "Dubbs" Lee and Nate "My resemblance to Tricky is Uncanny" Robinson. All came from Isiah. He did a better job that Scott Layden. And yes, he fucked up, but it's not as if Donnie Walsh and Mike D'Antoni have built anything.

Magic has never been able to find success in basketball since he retired, despite trying several roles. He briefly, disastrously, coached an excellent Lakers team in 1994. It had Sam "I'll Cut You" Bowie, Elden "I'm Big" Campbell, Doug "Yes, Dear" Christie, Vlade "The Sweet Stench of Feta and Marlboros" Divac, Anthony "Sir" Peeler, Danny "Hairy Gams" Schayes, Sedale Threatt "2 Ya Whole Set," Nick "It Aint Hard 2 Tell" Van Exel, and James "Underrated" Worthy.

Stick to lattes and matinees, Magique.

*That is one of Papa Coachie's favorite quotes. And further proof that Pippen, like Worthy, remains supremely underrated.