Diving in Soccer

Had a piece posted at EPLtalk about diving in soccer in general and specifically about an Arsenal player who had his ban for diving overturned.

Great White Hope

"Lets get to the root of this: What's the Mets' fan love affair with Daniel Murphy?"

-Mike Francesa, 09/14

I didn't want to bother making another baseball post now that pigskin season is mercifully underway, but a call from Carol from Bayside making comments like "I don't understand why you're giving Daniel Murphy such a hard time, he's such a nice player!", "at least he speaks English" and "I'd rather have Murphy than Carlos Beltran, wouldn't you, Mike?"The fact the producer let a baseball call onto a football Monday show is a separate issue, but the bigger problem is the fanbase's perception of the team and its general manager, Omar Minaya. Callers like Carol are the same people who cling to the 'Los Mets' moniker Anna Benson gave the team after her husband was traded to the Baltimore Orioles for relief pitcher Jorge Julio and a throw-in starting pitcher Caucasian John Maine -guess she forgot that part. They're the same people who want Carlos Beltran out of town because of one at-bat defining his Met tenure even though he's infinitely more 'clutch' than fan favorite David Wright. They complain about the constant acquisition of Hispanic players as well as the language barrier in the clubhouse and media. They want GAMERSSSS, and GRINDERSSSS, like those on the mostly English-speaking Philadelphia Phillies, and perceive the play of Jose Reyes and Carlos Beltran as 'soft' -Robinson Cano gets this treatment as well from many Yankee fans.

So when Daniel Murphy was called up in August and lit the world on fire, spraying doubles from left to right, fans found a new white player to rally around. Omar Minaya, supposed Latino-orchestrator, pinned a major portion of the success of the 2009 season on the development of Murphy, opting not to sign corner outfielders Raul Ibanez and Bobby Abreu -Spanish-speaking players enjoying great campaigns this year. Just four games after Murphy went deep in Great American Smallpark in Cincinnati, he botched a fly ball in sunny LandShark Stadium and continued to play left field -and bat- on rollerskates, showing no range, athletic ability, power or plate discipline. Carlos Delgado's hip injury gave Murphy the opportunity to minimize embarrassing himself on the field by playing a representative first base, but hitting like a catcher, posting a .717 OPS. After 580 professional at-bats, it's looking like Murphy's ceiling will be a career in pinch hitting. Yet the calls to "lay off him" persist on the talk radio air waves.

What's lost in the arguments from 'Los Mets' fans are all the crappy Caucasians Minaya's signed, traded and drafted, including Brian Schneider, Tim Redding, Sean Green, Jeremy Reed and a litany of mediocre college players including a boat load of relievers who have done squat. It's too bad so many people are so shortsighted, because Minaya DOES deserve to be relieved of his duties, but not because of any Latino conspiracy.

The Bizman on how the Niners went from Strictly Biz-ness to Strictly A-biz-mal.

Hot on the heels of the Big Dood's bangin Big Blue preview comes the Bizman with a scintillating San Fran reminisce. Should be noted that while eternal frenemies the Almighty Bizman aka II-Dope and Furdz aka Sam Boomz have had their fair share of disagreements dating back to their infamous battles on the crooked streetz of (trife-life-get-your-dome-checked) Tribeca, they both shared love for Niner football and Joe Cool back in the dizzay. So much so that a young Boomz forced a young Coachie 2 peep Joe Montana QB for a mediocre Chief team on Monday Night Football whilst lounging in a lavish Quebec City hotel room.

Anyhoo, the bizman speaks:

The San Francisco 49ers. Remember them? I’ll bet it’s been a minute since you’ve given them a second- or even a first- thought. They’ve been Team Irrelevant for a good five seasons now. But man, remember when?

I am what you could generously call a lapsed 49ers fan. When I started watching football around the 1986-87 season, I had no rooting interests. My dad didn’t have any particular allegiances beyond liking the local teams to win. Of my two best friends in elementary school, one was a Giants fan, one was a Jets fan. Meanwhile, I came to realize that these teams were on television every single week and were boring me. (This, it should be noted, absolutely holds true for me now as well. Familiarity bred contempt, but I have managed to lessen my dislike of the omnipresent local teams to a practiced degree of indifference, although I’m always up for a bad loss just so I can read the Armageddon-Is-Coming sports section in the Post the next day.)

I can’t pinpoint exactly when I decided to follow them, but after seeing highlights and a few playoff games, I saw that the Niners were different, were more exciting than the same boring old conservative NFC East teams. Look at all this passing!

[Sidebar: I like passing. It is a little-known fact (inexplicably so) that the pass opens up the run, but it is an even less-known fact that, as my extensive, hands-on Tecmo Super Bowl research will attest to, the pass opens up the pass, which leads to scores galore.]

So, let’s go Niners. What the hey. And it was a mighty good run, other than some rough playoff defeats at the hands of the Giants and ‘Boys. You could almost always rely on a good show- Montana’s brutal efficiency and Rice effortlessly open, Young’s brutal efficiency (and crazy running!) and Rice effortlessly open, Roger Craig and an underrated string of excellent pass-catching RBs (“Stillllll” Watters, William Randolph Hearst, Garner “More Yards”). Down to third-string? No problem! The Niners even had the White Willie Beamen in Steve “Shh, It’s” Bono. Bill Walsh left the sidelines? No problem! Enter George Seifert, a terrible college coach many years back (at Cornell, no less!) under whom the offense ran as smoothly as a Big daddy Kane silk shirt....

Sure, their last Super Bowl title (and appearance) was in 1994, but they remained a perennial playoff team. Young was forced to retire and in stepped Jeff Garcia, whose current sad incarnation (cut by the Raiders!) should not overshadow the fact that he was fee-nominal in his prime. 2001- 32 TDs passing, 5 rushing (!). A then-inoffensive T.O. took the mantle from Rice and owned the league, posting double-digit TDs three straight seasons. Thing was, they seemed to lose to the Packers in the playoffs every year, except for that one fantastic game where Young found Owens in the end zone for the winning score as time wound down (essentially Owens’ “I have arrived” moment).

The last hurrah was in 2002. After the Niners’ furious, highly improbable, long-snapper-crying, no-penalty-call-assisted comeback against the Giants in the wacky 39-38 playoff game (yeah, you like that, Shockey, standing there looking stupid on the sidelines), they were absolutely throttled by the eventual Super Bowl champion Bucs. By midway through the first quarter, I was thoroughly deflated (and disgusted with the team’s lack of effort).

Coach Mariucci was fired and replaced by in-over-his-head Dennis Erickson (yeah, he was great with the Seahawks, too). In 2003, the Niners lost five games by 3 points or less and finished 7-9. And then things really went bad.

T.O. managed to run Garcia out of town, then wrote his own ticket to Philly. With Garrison Hearst breaking down, there went the offense, just like that. Poof, gone. The replacements were Tim “Picks Ay-Day” Rattay, nobody at wide receiver, and Kevan “Lower than Low” Barlow. Not exactly Montana/Craig/Rice.

Years and years of skillfully (but perhaps not completely legally) skirting the salary cap finally caught up to the team, and free agency was no longer a viable option. Drafting went south in a hurry. Over the next five seasons, the Niners finished in the in the top 25 in defense and in offense one time each. Once! There are only 32 teams! No receiver topped 850 yards. Alex Smith? One first overall pick and $25 million guaranteed later, he’s on the bench. Nate Clements? On a team where everything is a problem, $80 million for an overrated cornerback may not be the best start. Brandon Lloyd? Lots of dudes can jump, doesn’t mean they’re any good.

In all honesty, I had to research exactly what happened in the years since 2002, because I had almost completely stopped following the team out of sheer boredom and my concurrent rising interest in fantasy football. In my mind, the Niners are much more fun as the top team in Tecmo (way better than the Giants, child please, Brent Jones will always catch that pass over the middle on the blitz), banned from competing against almost all squads because they were too damn good.

Last season offered a glimmer of hope with the firing of Mike Martz, a strong finish under a coach who seems to have some idea what he’s doing (Mike Singletary gave a motivational speech in my office a couple years ago, and no, he did not drop trou) and the great fortune of landing the top wide receiver in the land with the #10 pick in the draft (come on, Crabtree, just take the money!)

However, the reality is that the division is no longer a cakewalk (Rams don’t count, they belong in the UFL) - the Cards are a real team, the Seahawks have more than three healthy players- and the Niners, for the most part, are still not good. Unlike Martz, Singletary seems to realize that Frank Gore is by far their best player and should be run into the ground. The defense is coming around, and Shaun Hill is serviceable at quarterback. It’s still a wasteland at wideout, unless Josh Morgan finally becomes, you know, good. As a fan, boy oh boy is this team boring. You cannot even argue that anyone on this team is worth watching (including Gore). Who’s gonna break the big play? No one, that’s who. Not hearing it.

I’d be Michelle Shocked (shocked!) with an 8-8 record. A repeat of last year’s 7-9 sounds about right, but 6-10, given the talent level, should not surprise at all.

Now, back to my fantasy squad.

Big Dood on the Big G's; or, Standing on the Flapjacks of Giants

To Shea Hey's sensational stable of stars, namely Cannatar, Fred Coupon and myself, I'm pleased to add the Big Dood.

Above artwork by none other than Frownie

Here, in hopefully the first of many missives from the man, the Big Dood offers his thoughts on Big Blue:

Anyone who knows me, knows that I enjoy a season of Jints football almost as much as a big stack of tasty flapjacks hot off the griddle. But let’s not bang our knives and forks on the table toooooooo eagerly. Let’s take a deep breath. And reflect.

To a good many Giants fans, the ending to last season was doubtlessly a bitter disappointment. Fair enough, I suppose, but I’m here to send a wakeup call to everyone who cried themselves to sleep after a one and done ouster at the hands of the Eagles: It’s all disappointment from here on out. This truth should have risen from the ashes as the dust settled in the aftermath of Super Bowl XXZXXZXZSEQR (did I get those Roman Numerals Right?). To quote Christopher Walken’s character in True Romance “that’s as good as it’s gonna get. And won’t ever get that good again.”

By all rights, the New York Giants should never win anything else again. In the interest of balance, they ought to have tumbled into the bowels of the earth and been left to stumble over and upon one another (for at least a few seasons) in abject misery.

Or better yet, they should’ve simply ceased to be, disappearing in streaks of light and vapor behind falling sheets of confetti in the canyon of heroes.

After perpetrating their improbable heist of the New England Patriots’ nineteenth win of that year, like some super-significant paranormal artifact, or beautiful woman held against her will, the appropriate ending was not a series on-field speeches, handshakes and trophy presentations, but rather a mad dash escape to safety while the stadium and perhaps the entire NFL collapsed into oblivion. It should’ve all ended there in Arizona. And as Giants fans, we’ll be forever retreating to the bathroom, chasing that cocaine first hit high, so long as we should choose to care anymore.

But perhaps that’s really the point anyway. Caring too much about sports is a bad practice. Nothing wrong with enjoying games of course, but allowing a particular team’s performance to drastically alter one’s temperament, particularly where it might drive us to surliness, or unhappiness, is the mark of a regressive consciousness. Peace and happiness are not predicated on circumstance. They must be deliberately sought and cultivated from within. So deciding to be bitterly angry if our favorite team fails to achieve a set of rather difficult and (from a probability standpoint) unlikely goals is idiotic. In doing so, we abdicate the responsibility of our own contentment and hand it over to a group of athletes – we barely even really choose which athletes – and allow our emotions jerked about at the whim of a bouncing ball. It’s something like deciding to clip a set of jumper cables to our nipples and saying: “This may hurt now, but one day, hard to say when, someone will surely come along and take these off for me and then I will feel good again. At least until they put them back on a while later. So I’ll just wait patiently for that day. Thanks.”

In 2007, shortly after the Jints turned in a horrendous performance against Minnesota, I calmly decided that I just didn’t give a shit if they lost anymore. I decided then, that I would celebrate great athleticism as much as any worthy human achievement. I still enjoy Giant victories (and surely screamed with glee from the window of Coachie’s apartment when they beat the Pats), but I refuse to sulk away another Monday after Manning forgets which team to throw to.

So my official prediction for 2009 Jints football is: they’re going to keep playing these damn games for as long as I plan on living, so what difference does it make anyway?

But just because I refuse to stumble when they may stumble doesn’t mean I don’t pay attention. So I’ll offer a few observations and then be on my way:

1.) If Mike Sherridan and Osi Umenyiora are not getting along it’s probably because Sherridan is at least hinting that Osi’s starting job is not guaranteed. And why shouldn’t he suggest as much – Matthias Kiwanuka is turning into a splendid DE and looks more like the every-down lineman with Umenyiora more the passing down specialist at this point. Even as a rotational player, I think Kiwi will have a huge season. Not sure if I expect the same from Osi.

2.) It’s quite possible that among the draftees, Smith’s and Hixon’s, the Giants have not found a replacement for Plaxico Burress. At least not early, or at all, this season. I’m ok with that. The Giants didn’t trade for Edwards, Boldin or Tory Holt because they don’t need to win it all this year. They are young almost everywhere and will be good for a long time because Jerry Reese knows to draft (see 2005 where he grabbed Webster, Justin Tuck and Brandon Jacobs with only 4 total picks, or 2007 which netted Boss, Ross, Alford, Steve Smith and Ahmad Bradshaw). Someone’s gonna step up between Nicks, Manningham, Barden etc.

3.) If Antonio Pierce looked old last year, and he did, he’ll figure to look worse in ’09. The Giants will have a hard time with all the pass-catching backs and tight ends in their division. Boley was brought in to help out here, but he’s missing game one, hasn’t really practiced and will need time to get in sync. The rest of the linebackers don’t look like much. We haven’t had a good linebacker since Jesse Armstead. I’m expecting to see a lot Westbrooks and Whittens running wild in the defensive backfield unfortunately.

4.) Brandon Jacobs, while a joy to behold, always strikes me as a knee injury waiting to happen. He runs so high and goes looking for contact that he’s as much of a liability to himself as a weapon for this team. I’m sure he’ll miss at least a couple of games and can only hope those come somewhere in the middle of year, against non-divisional opponents, rather than round one of the playoffs. With Jacobs, the Giants fear no defense. He and Chris Snee are the crazy, mean spirited counterpoints to the likes of James Harrison, Haynesworth, Lewis et al.

5.) When the Giants have been at they’re best these past two seasons, they’ve been a pretty good combination of lucky, well disciplined and tough as hell.

Let’s look back to October 26, 2008. This important date gives us a perfect little snapshot of the Coughlin/Manning Giants (seems the best way to designate this era). On this particular Sunday afternoon, the Giants defeated the eventual NFL champions in front of the biggest regular season Steeler crowd ever. This game is notable for a number of reasons:

The Steelers had won 9 straight home games against NFC opponents.

Plaxico Burress was benched by Coughlin in first quarter for missing a mandatory treatment sessions the previous Saturday.

Santonio Holmes (I hope it was worth it) was serving a marijuana related suspension that day. Somehow, the nature of Holmes’ suspension (as noted by Phil Mushnick) was never discussed during the telecast. Burress, on the other hand, whose status was quickly shifting from NFC title game hero to pariah, for previous fines and NFL disciplinary action earlier in the season, was the go-to cutaway shot on the sideline as the Giants’ offense failed to find the end zone early.

Pittsburgh’s championship caliber defense – likely the best in the NFL in 2008 – noted for its tandem of fearsome edge rushing linebackers, recorded exactly zero sacks of Eli Manning and forced exactly zero turnovers.

Conversely, the Giants sacked Roethlisberger five times, and forced four interceptions.

And yet, despite a 4 to 0 turnover ratio, despite controlling the ball for almost ten minutes more than their opponents and despite physical superiority on both sides of the line of scrimmage, the Giants were regarded as lucky to have escaped with a victory on the road because Greg Warren went down with a blown knee and left James Harrison to long snap a ball over punter Mitch Berger’s head for a game tying safety. Never mind the fact that Eli Manning pushed down the short field and found Kevin Boss for the game winning score with under 4 minutes left to play on the road. I’d argue that the Steelers were lucky that one or more of Roethlisberger’s interceptions weren’t returned for scores or that he wasn’t sacked seven times and concussed.

My overarching opinion is that this team, Plax or no, can still deliver a few of these sorts of games. I think they’ll still be able to push other teams around and score late in games. I also expect a slow start, with two early divisional games and a new coordinator on a defense that’s had a lot of injuries and not a lot of regulars practicing.

I think the Jints will get a head of steam late and make the playoffs, although won’t ever appear to be the juggernaut they looked like for much of last year. I think they’re a wild card team, behind the Eagles. I think they’ll relish an underdog role that they always seem to create for themselves by periodically falling on their own faces.

I can see them rolling over in the playoffs, or rolling to another Super Bowl.

I don’t see them pulling off the most exciting victory in Super Bowl history.

Sorry Jints fans. Not happening twice in our lifetimes. Consider whatever else you get after February 08 just syrup on the flapjacks.

Dig in. And don’t take anything too hard.

Friendly Reminder

To help avoid my annoying mass emails, all my zany images can be found on this flickr page, and it will be continuously updated. Also added as a link here at SheaHey.

People's Elbow to a Dead Horse

If the Mets were in the playoff hunt there would be far less, or no, complaints about New Shea aka Shitti Field aka The House That No One Asked For. But they are not, and for many the new ballpark is a disappointment. The Post continues to justifiably pile on, just as it has piled on the empty seats and happy homers at the new Yankee Stadium. It's latest attack was a front page story entitled "Pity Field," detailing physical problems that have emerged at Citi Field.

The park may have cost a lot, but it sure seems like it was built on the cheap. It certainly doesn't appear as lush on the outside as the new Yankee Stadium.

On Citi's facade, prefabricated slabs that lock together like legos take the place of actual brick-or-stone work. Attention to detail and color scheme on the outside is limited to the Jackie Robinson Rotunda. Away from it the arched windows give way to hollow rectangles and dark red gives way to light beige-all the better to see rusty water stains with.

Unlike at Ebbets Field, where the facade rose up gracefully to meet the roof, giving the structure a sense of completion and cohesion, Citi's facade ends abruptly 3/4 of the way up, exposing the backs of the rows of seats and thus resembling the bleachers of a high school football stadium.

And it appears they just gave up when it came the back of the stadium, which faces the Whitestone Expressway. Actually, if it weren't for the exposed backs of the seats, it could pass for any suburban office building or truck distribution center.

While I took these pictures before the season started, I believe they are quite close to representative of how the park currently appears. But yeah, the food's good, which ensures that the Wilpon/Coupons will make more money per game this season despite the vastly lowered capacity. And money is really the one and only reason a new ballpark was built. Which is fine, but again, when your competition across town builds a new park too, and there is money to burn in construction, you better make sure you make yours nicer.

Ouch

An utterly amazing visual summary of the Mets incomprehensible injuries this season by a man named Sean Engelhardt. Props & Pounds.

And to make Mets fans extra sick, Pedro outdueling Timmy Links in another fine start.

Metlas Shrugged

Deadspin came through with two eviscerations of the Mets within the past few days, both obviously completely warranted.

The first post, from Friday, deaded Shitti Field. Highlights include: "There are over fifty advertisements from foul pole to foul pole in Citi Field, likely a side effect of Mr. Wilpon's lack of understanding Ponzi schemes. The team's championship banners were on a brick wall facing away from the stadium, invisible to anybody watching the game, until they were finally moved about a week ago. The bullpen is under a fucking canopy for some reason. The entire outfield wall lacks any semblance of symmetry, and throughout the whole field there must be about a hundred different heights for the outfield fence. The tops of the dugouts are red and black. Why? Not a fucking clue. And when faced with criticism about the field, the Wilpons sloppily added a third video monitor in the right field corner, apparently hoping that they could distract the fans form the shittiness of the stadium by just adding more shiny TVs." And, "the enormous Geico advertisement known as Citi Field, is far more soulless, aloof and, yes, excessive than Shea ever was.

Of course, our pal Fred Coupon did an excellent job summing up the new Shea experience back in April.

The second Deadspin post comes from today, a stark look back at this season in pictures and video.

Now, I'm a little removed from the doldrums in New York, but this season seems truly lost in the sense that no one cares. No one's cared since June. And indifference can be far more dangerous than hate. Past Met disaster-seasons seem downright fun compared to this year. Think Vince Coleman. Think Bobby Bo. Think Big Mo. Think Shawn Estes. Think Harmando Boonitez catching haircuts.

Despite my distance, I've done okay keeping up through the Post, WFAN and various blogs. This year's controversies seem forced. The vitriol half-hearted. To borrow one of Bizman's favrit sayings, "Meh." After the past few years, to Mets fans, like the Jane's Addiction Album, Nothing's Shocking.

These Prices Are Insaaaaaaannnne!!!!!

Mets tickets on Stubhub finally seem to be hitting rock bottom. The Marlins are in town next weekend. For Tuesday night's game, there are already 19 tickets available for $3 or less. And over 100 more available for $5.

Ticket plan holders are losing lots of money. I predict a huge drop in sales for next season.

[9/3 Update - there are now over 40 tickets available for $2 each.]

Ya Gotta Believe...

or at least hope and pray and wish that the Wilpons really are so broke that they'll sell the team.

Fox Business:

"You can quote me," [author of new Madoff book] said of a possible sale of the Mets. "It's a matter of when. It could be as soon as next year."

Kiss My Arse

Shit's getting trife out there. Summer is lurching to a close. The Mets are down to 1/5th of their rotation. $ for Clunkers. Health Care. All kinds of shiznit, you know the deal. I think Redd Foxx would agree, time to get in where you fit in.

And for those who are down, a big tilt in the early going as Arsenal is away this Saturday to Man United. A true test to see if the Arse-youth are ascendant or if a prettyboy-less United can survive and thrive. 12:15 Eastern on Fox Soccer Channel. The Sports Herb approves.

Future Generations Will Be Amazed By This Mets Roster

[UPDATED TO REFLECT TODAY'S INJURY]
Lance Broadway
Elmer Dessens
Pedro Feliciano
Nelson Figueroa
Sean Green
Pat Misch
Bobby Parnell
Mike Pelfrey
Tim Redding
Francisco Rodriguez
Brian Stokes
Ken Takahashi
-
Omir Santos
Brian Schneider
Luis Castillo
Anderson Hernandez
Daniel Murphy
Fernando Tatis
Wilson Valdez
Nick Evans
Jeff Francoeur
Angel Pagan
Jeremy Reed
Gary Sheffield
Cory Sullivan

Someone needs to plug this team in a simulator like Diamond Mind and see who would win a series between this team and the '62 Mets.

When it Rains

Joel Sherman always has a way of making the life of a Mets fan that much more depressing. In his Hardball column today, he discusses why the Yanks were savvy in not pulling the trigger for Johan, and how the Mets made a dumb roster move in trying to make space for Nelson Figueroa involving Rule 5 mysteries that only Cannatar can understand.

At least Johan isn't gone for 2010!!!

Stringfellows

For those still paying attention to the Mets season, Billy Wagner's agent is named Bean Stringfellow.

Would any Met-maniac have believed, before the season, that on August 25th the two healthiest Met stars would be K-Rod and B-Wagz? Is there a point to playing "major league" games with the team that is left? Can the rest of the string be played out in Port St. Lucie?

John Smoltz

I'm probably only thinking about John Smoltz because his ups and downs have been a part of my fantasy team, but I love the pickup by the Cardinals. The Red Sox were in a tight race and couldn't afford to let Smoltz cost them even one more game. The Cards, on the other hand, are a virtual lock to win the NL Central, so Smoltz is a gamble worth taking. 9 strikeouts in 5 innings is impressive, even if it's against the Padres.

Will Carroll (subscr. required) wrote that the biggest issue in regards to Smoltz is his recovery time between starts - he may not be able to get up to full velocity on only 4-5 days rest. If that's the case, it wouldn't be that hard for the Cards to get creative with the expanded September roster and just have Smoltz pitch once a week the rest of the way. And if that turns him back into a solid starter, he could be an effective weapon as a sort of well-rested 4th/spot starter in the playoffs, where there are lots of off-days.

The Cards have 3 very good starters for the playoffs - Carpenter (2.16 ERA, 4.8 K/BB ratio), Wainwright (2.61, 2.8, and an excellent track record in the 9th inning of deciding playoff games), and surprising Joel Pineiro (3.15, 4.4).
No improvement needed there, but replacing Kyle Lohse and his 4.67 ERA with a well-rested Smoltz would give the Cards four strong pitchers and make them tough to beat in October.

If I had wings, I would fly...let me contemplate...

"Even tho what we do is wrong...oh....even tho what we do is wrong...oh.....
Sunn you gotta get your soul clean.....before they blow them horns like Coltrane..."

One G walks free, another one heads into the Big P.

Michael Vick should never have served the time for the crime he committed. I wouldn't go as far in Vick's defense as Frownie, because if you are able to set aside the fact that we slaughter animals under insane conditions to produce the food most of us eat every day, society does have a genuine interest in preventing cruelty to animals. Still, Vick's sentence was harsh.

Just like the plea bargain Plaxico just accepted. Espn's Lester Munson put the situation into better words than I can. Poor Plax was fucked the minute King Bloomberg spit his rant about throwing the book at him. Bloomberg's unprecedented vitriol was the typical bluster of a man unwilling and unable to speak up when it truly matters. E-z for Bloomberg to talk tuff on Plax, not so e-z on matters that truly matter to the city on issues I won't step on soapbox here for. Suffice it to say that the proverbial book should be saved to be thrown at the kind of man who would subvert the will of the people to get himself a third term in the name of the public interest. That's some ill smoof 1984 shit right there.

Anyhoo, perhaps what's most galling about the Plax case is the fact that Puff still walks the streets a free man. Shyne's due for release this October after serving nearly 8 years

Rooting For The Laundry

Over at The Great Baseball Blog, Bryan is three parts into an infinite-part series on his thoughts on being a Red Sox fan.

He's covering a lot of ground, but I think the series also hits on the general question of what it means to be a fan. At some point it's natural to question why the heck you care so much about one random group of 25 baseball players. What are you rooting for exactly? Is it the owner? The manager? The players? The truth is it's none of those things. As my fellow SH blogger has said, "we root for the laundry."

Not only do we root for the laundry, we're so sure we're right to do so that we scoff at anyone who has the nerve to say they root for both the Mets and the Yankees. Anyone who switches allegiances any time between childhood and death is derisively labeled as a "front runner," something that is considered the exact opposite of a "real" sports fan. But on the surface, it's perfectly logical to root for the Marlins because Hanley Ramirez is your favorite player, or the Dodgers because Joe Torre is your favorite manager, or the A's because Billy Beane is your favorite GM. And it's perfectly reasonable to have equal pride as a New Yorker in all the teams that play here. What isn't logical is rooting for the Mets your entire life because that's who you chose to root for when you were 7-years old, based on little more than a whim.

Despite all that logic, almost everyone still agrees that a serious sports fan picks a team and sticks with it for a lifetime. A real fan roots for the laundry. Why?

Obviously there must be more to it than just the laundry. What exactly ties us to our team? For a lot of people, there's the geographical connection. Rooting for your team is attached to rooting for your city – it’s about civic pride. And if you leave the city, that may be magnified even more. If you’re from Cleveland, rooting for the Tribe (and Browns and Cavs) keeps you linked to your roots even if you're no longer physically there.

There's also often a family connection - a parent or other relative took you to games as a kid and some day you'll take your kids to the game. Rooting for a particular team can link multiple generations of a family together in a way that other cultural interests can't. Recently, a transplant from Cincinnati told me about his plan to go to a Bengals game with his family while he's home for Christmas. Watching your team every Sunday at the same time the rest of your family does wherever they are helps you feel close to them even if you’re geographically far, and being able to associate it with a future family get-together helps even more.

There's also a general sense of community with other fans of the team. This gets somewhat tied into geography for most people (less so in New York, where we have so many teams and so many transplants), but is also relevant on another level. Say, you come to New York from Alabama and don't know anyone. Maybe they exist, but I'm not aware of any general "people from Alabama" get-togethers. But, every Saturday during football season, you can go to a bar filled with U. of Alabama fans, or to a bar filled with Auburn fans. You chant together, exchange high-fives, and constantly answer the question, “where [in Alabama] are you from?”

Sometimes the connections can be more subtle. Whether it's giving a high five to the random dude sitting next to you at the game or the bar, or having something to talk about with your boss, the common bond of being a Mets fan often allows you to connect with someone who you might have trouble bonding with otherwise due to differences in age, socioeconomic status, cultural background, etc. Whatever other differences we may have, we share the common experience of being Mets fans. We’ve had the same moments of joy and pain over the years. We remember Robin Ventura’s “grand slam” in game 5 of the NLCS and Kenny Rogers walking in the winning run in game 6.

Now that I reflect on it, rooting for the same team over the years also keeps us closer to ourselves. We change a lot during a lifetime and the world around us changes even more. Family members die, friends come and go, things that seem important at one time seem irrelevant a few years later. Rooting for the same team, year after year, in a religious-like manner gives us a constant in our lives and helps link the 8-year-old version of ourselves with the 80-year-old version.

“Laundry” means more than just the uniform, it means the sense of connection with our family, our city, and all the random people who make up our fan community.

Let's Go Mets!

News Flash! Knicks' Future Aint 2 Bright.

ESPN's Chad Ford broke wind last week with completely unsurprising news concerning the Knicks "rebuilding plan."

Here's a sample of his insights, "[a]s we get closer and closer to the summer of 2010, the undertaking seems aptly named. The salary cap is shrinking, the Knicks' top free agents are demanding huge contracts, and they are still without a solid talent base to lure top free agents next summer. So the Knicks' championship-contending restoration appears to be on shaky ground."

When was the plan ever on solid earf? Donnie Walsh's Plan A was to cash in on a decent but not great run in Indiana. Plan B was sign LeG.O.D.D., Plan C was sign LeG.O.D.D., Plan D was sign LeG.O.D.D., Plan E was to sign one of the fake members of the LeBron family from those mildly amusing Nike commercials. Plan F was to sign Dwayne Wade. Plan G was to sign Chris Bosh. Plan H was to quit smokin' Kools.

At least Plan H has worked out.

Now, he's done a decent job of clearing out pricey contracts. Hasn't translated to lower ticket prices or a lower cable bill.

And trading pricey contracts for nothing in return isn't exactly rocket-scientific-mapp. Rebuilding means actually rebuilding. It means seeking out extra draft picks. It means scouring Europe for young players that have sound backs. It means trading for or signing scrappy young players that may not be stars but perform actual basketball tasks besides chucking up 3's. It means being patient.

Rebuilding does not mean pinning your hopes on signing one free agent and wasting two years in the process. Buildings are built by digging into the earf, establishing a foundation and building up from there, not by half-heartedly jamming a bunch of sticks together in quicksand, then buying the best load-bearing beam in the world from Cleveland and stuffing it in there.

Thankfully, potential deals for Grant Hill and Jason Kidd fizzled this summer. I'd rather see the team bottom out and get high draft picks than tread the path of borderline playoff competitveness. I'd rather see the team lose with Wilson Chandler, Chris Duhon and David Lee and wait for other youngsters to join the squidad then see Dwayne Wade be the latest to make a mockery of John Starks' number. No offense to Flashy, but those knees will be shakier than Barbaro's by 2011.

Time and time again, the media and N.Y. G.M.'s would have the rest of the country believe that New Yorkers are not patient, that they will not tolerate a rebuilding club. Yet non-Yankee NY sports fans have had to endure more shiznit than almost any fan base in the country. The greater NY area has 10 teams in the 5 major team sports (Yanks, Mets, Gints, Jets, Knicks, Nets, 'Gers, Devs, Isles, and the Red Bulls, bro). Of those 10 teams, 2.5 are consistent winners/seem to have a clue as to what they're doing (the Yanks and Devs and sometimes the Gints). The rest have all at one time or another ignored building ground-up success in favor of the buy-the-ageing-star route.

If anything, New York sports fans have more patience then Slash stroking his snake in a roomful of whores. Give peace, and Patrick Ewing, Jr., a chance.

Penny-Wise, Pound-Foolish

According to Baseball America, the Mets spent less money on the first 10 rounds of the draft than every other team in baseball. I realize that the Mets lacked a first-round pick, but that doesn't fully explain the paltry sum.

The Mets spent a total of $1.9 million on signing 7 of the 9 players they drafted in rounds 2-10.

Here's a comparison: the Red Sox had a first round pick and spent $1.1 million on him. After that, they picked a few spots after the Mets for the rest of the draft. They spent a total of $4.6 million in rounds 2-10, signing 8 of 9 players.

A Hypothetical Scenario

As you may be aware, the National League Wild Card race is tight. The Colorado Rockies, San Francisco Giants and Florida Marlins could go neck and neck all year right to the bitter end. It wouldn't be farfetched to assume it could even come down to a game or two.

The Giants, prior to Saturday's game, had struggled against the Mets, going 1-4 while getting pummeled by David Wright to the tune of a 1.340 OPS. Matt Cain, a fine pitcher in his own right -though overshadowed by Tim Lincecum of course- must have simply twitched or slipped when throwing a four seam fastball, because it fired straight towards Wright's batting helmet, knocking him down cold. The Mets, already missing three of their top five players had now lost another, and while they mounted an exciting rally to tie the game in the eighth inning, ultimately ran out of gas and lost 5-4. So what if the Giants win the next two games in the series against a team fielding Daniel Murphy, Anderson Hernandez and Fernando Tatis in the infield and the likes of Corey Sullivan in the outfield? Those two games could be the difference in the race, and if they are, I hope the Giants perform one of their classic postseason gag jobs - hey it could give Chris 'Mad Dog' Russo another chance for a classic tirade.

On that note, while Johan Santana's attempt at knocking Giants' third baseman Pablo Sandoval on his feet was admirable, it invariably turned into another embarrassing moment for the Mets, as Johan laid a spicy meatball right over the middle of the plate that landed over the newly placed pennants in left field. It's going to be really difficult putting up with Santana's declining stuff over the next five years, isn't it? How do you give up four straight hits to the Giants lineup anyway?

EDIT: All rendered meaningless by LUIS' COMET (second year in a row I witness one in person) and a Murphy frozen rope -good things happen when you can pull the ball hard!