Gimme Some Bruce

Earlier, on NFL Live, John Clayton anxiously revealed that the Dallas Cowboys have re-signed offensive lineman Flozell Adams. Clayton, who appeared to be fighting the urge to interrupt Trey Wingo in order to break the story, reported that the deal will be worth $42 million over six years. My thoughts:

1) Let’s hope that damn knee holds up.

2) Do not, I repeat, do not put another playoff win in jeopardy* with brain-dead false start penalties, okay Flozell?

3) All in all, taking my first two points into consideration, I’m happy with this move. Good linemen are a necessity, and Adams is coming off a Pro Bowl year.

At the other end of the football spectrum, the St. Louis Rams decided against re-signing veteran wide receiver Isaac Bruce and have instead released him. Hmm… Would you care to hear my dream scenario? No? Too bad, because this would be the ideal situation:

Given the amount of bad blood that has manifested itself between the Rams and the Patriots over the past few weeks (thanks for stirring the pot, Senator Sphincter), it would be delicious (paging Dennis Rodman) if he were willing to take a slight pay cut to play for New England. If the Patriots can only re-sign one of their three free agent receivers (Randy Moss, Donte Stalworth, and Kelly Washington), and it appears they have got Moss back (three years/$30 million), Bruce would seem perfect as the third or fourth option. After all, a receiving corps led by Moss, Welker, and Bruce would pack a pretty powerful punch, especially if Bruce is playing with a chip on his shoulder (he’s given his heart and soul to the Rams, and this is how they repay him?). I defy you to name a team that could better harbor a player who feels as if he has been wronged than the Patriots. This has to happen.

*I do realize that ‘in jeopardy’ makes it seem like the Cowboys actually won against the Giants. Still, I do not feel comfortable with pinning the loss entirely on Flo. While it is debatable, the Cowboys were screwed up in every phase of the game that day, so it really is not fair to simply call out Adams.

Get Back to Where You Once Belonged

Upon seeing that the Kansas City Chiefs had released Ty Law (courtesy of ESPN’s bottom line, a lifesaver, as always), I immediately turned to my roommate and said “he’s going back to New England.” I have nothing to base this on. I do not know if it is already the consensus around the league that Law will once again be a Patriot. I just know three things about the man:

1) He was a great fit in his first stint with the Patriots (just ask Peyton Manning).

2) He still has some game.

3) He has become a wily old veteran.

Law will fit right back in with New England; there is no doubt in my mind. When you consider his past success coupled with the success the Patriots have had with signing seasoned players, it is an absolute no-brainer. It would be nice to see him end up in Dallas (for the right price, that is), but I can not see him with any logo other than the Flying Elvis on his helmet next season.

You Call Yourself a Christian, I Think That You're a Hypocrite

Well, well, well. It looks like somebody left the house without their WWJD bracelet this morning. Tony Dungy, cover-boy for EA Sports’ Head Coach 09, granted an interview to the online gaming service Gametap to discuss the aforementioned video game. When asked about potential cheat codes within the game, Dungy provided a very interesting answer:

“I don't know about any cheat codes. They say that's really a big secret around here, it's like Spygate. I don't know if they put that in there or not or what the penalty would be if you entered any cheat codes, but we'll probably only let New England have cheat codes.”

So, I guess this means that God finds it okay to exploit the pain of others, kick our neighbors when they are down, and gossip about people. After all, Tony Dungy is Jesus: The Sequel. So if this saintly man finds it funny to crack inconsiderate (and, let’s not forget, unoriginal and marginally humorous) jokes about Bill Belichick, who are we to criticize him?

In fact, since Tony Dungy is the gold standard for football coaches, nay, human beings, are we going to see any new features implemented into Head Coach 09 to tailor the game to his preferences? Will there be an option to hold your team hostage at the end of every season? Think about how revolutionary this could be! You could put up the façade of being a family man, ask for special perks (taking a private jet to your son’s high school football games in Florida, for example), and give ownership the ‘will I or won’t I’ treatment every year. And you could even make it to where fans and media alike will worship the ground you walk on, because, by slacking off on the job that pays you millions, you are a true family man whose life is not solely rooted in football.

Or, you could have football derail your first marriage. Then, find Jesus after the divorce. And finally, build up a reputation as “Mr. Nice Guy” around the league. People will forget about the phantom first wife and will consequently treat you like a god. But you are not God, but close…as you will no doubt reinforce, by continually reminding people of your holiness, simultaneously trying to put up a front of humble piety.

What? You mean that both of these features apply to Dungy? Oh, I guess that EA will just have to implement a cheat code to be able to do this. Shoot! I forgot, that will not work either. After all, Saint Tony has made it clear that cheats are reserved for New England. And it must be true, because surely this great man would not take delight in seeing one of his fellow human beings in an uncomfortable situation. After all, judge not lest ye be judged (Matthew 7:1).

Hold Me Closer Tiny...Gold...Man?

First off, let me just say that I have been jotting little notes over the past few days in an effort to keep track of points of interest for future columns. For the first of these posts, I have decided to combine my Academy Award observations with some television and music bits. This way, I can keep the pop culture discussion within one post. Granted, it has nothing to do with pro sports, but it is not like this has stopped me before. So, enjoy.

Thoughts on the Oscars

--I did a complete 180 during the announcement of the Best Actress winner. I was pulling for Ellen Page, simply because I really enjoyed Juno. Oh, and she’s cute (emphasis on the word cute; the jury is still out on whether I found her to be gorgeous). Then, I saw Marion Cotillard walk on stage (oh, and don’t worry if you are confused, I don’t think she knows who she is either). Let me just say ‘Knockout!’ And she had the sexy French lady thing going on. From that moment on, I decided I was happy with Best Actress decision.

--Speaking of gorgeous women, two actresses (that I saw, keep in mind that I was flipping between the awards and the Lakers/Sonics game virtually the entire night) really stood out to me: the always beautiful Katherine Heigl was bringing her A-game (Tilda Swinton, not so much)…as usual (is that redundant?). As was the perplexingly hot Anne Hathaway. Both ladies were rocking red dresses. Coincidence?

--Going on a bit of a tangent, but keeping it within the ‘hot actress’ category, what happened to Neve Campbell? As of a couple of years ago, she still looks great. And she was always a tad underrated. We need to unearth her and treat her like the goddess that she truly is.

--Swinging it back to the Oscars, take a wild guess who presented one of the awards.

…

Owen Wilson! In his first public appearance since…y’know…the incident. What is ironic is that he presented right after the in memoriam slide show. It would have been funny, and in incredibly poor taste, if Wilson presented said slide show. After the final deceased Hollywood figure (which was Heath Ledger, in case you were wondering), Owen could have paused…turned to the audience with a wry smile…and say “and almost…ME!”

--Now that we are on the subject of Owen Wilson, what is the deal with TBS all of a sudden? Usually they recycle the same circa 1991 two-star movies, but now the channel is trotting out Wedding Crashers, Four Brothers, and The Wedding Date (quick, which one of these movies doesn’t belong?). I think the oldest of these is Wedding Crashers, but we are still only going back about two and a half years! This is shattering my mind! I need some Cliffhanger, pronto!

--Using the TBS talk to segue to Jonathan Lipnicki (hey, they show Jerry Maguire all the time!). I despise this kid. I don’t know what he looks like now, but to me, he will forever be the creepy looking Drew Carrey Mini-me. I mean, did you see this kid? He called his erie little squirms and grunts acting!? His performances have always had a powerful effect on me…I get a strong urge to punch him in the face.

--Yet another brilliant segue (wink, wink): I am going to rant about Jackie Chan. He is actually going to provide a character voice in the film Kung-fu Panda.
…
HE CAN’T FUCKING SPEAK ENGLISH!
I don’t care if he is providing a voice for a character who is amazing at karate; the only reason American audiences flock to his movies is to see him perform amazing fight sequences. Either that, or they go for the comic relief provided by his co-star. But, if it’s anything, his mastery of the English language is humorous at best. Half of the reason they show deleted scenes during the credits of his movies is to make light of the fact that he butchers lines constantly. Was he honestly the best choice for an animated film? Do the producers really need a token Asian voice in their karate film? These are the types of questions that churn through my mind on a daily basis.

--Bringing it back home to Oscar, guess who was sitting in the front row? Why it was Jack Nicholson of course! Why is this important? Well, I was sifting through some archived Bill Simmons columns the other day, coming across this hidden gem:
“You're not officially a writer until someone interrupts you while you're typing, and you try to be nice about it, but you secretly want to start screaming like Nicholson in The Shining.”
Why is this funny? Because I was trying to write a blog post, but I had someone in the background chattering incessantly. I finally gave up on concentrating, deciding to read some Simmons posts. I wanted to snap at the person, but I was trying to be nice. Almost immediately, I came across this bit. It seemed so appropriate.*

--And now, one final Oscar note to get tend to: I refute anyone (I’m looking at you, TIME) who claims that the original Rocky is undeserving of the Best Picture. Are you fucking kidding me? Raging Bull was a great movie, but to say that it was the only boxing movie worthy of the Oscar (over Rocky, again, what the hell, TIME?) is ludicrous. Look at how influential Rocky has become. First of all, it has become a seminal film series. More importanly, however, it has changed the way sports movies (and some movies in general) are made. How many Rocky clones have you seen in your lifetime? Not only has it made the underdog dynamic a must, but it also integrated the “chick flick” subplot which pleases all audiences. It’s one of the most influential and inspiring movies ever made, but you are telling me that it was a mistake to give it an Oscar? I call bull shit.

*In case you haven’t actually seen The Shining, the scene in question features Nicholson on an F-bomb laced tirade directed towards his wife for interrupting his writing.

The Fool on the Hill

***Note: I present the long overdue analysis of the Roger Clemens deposition. However, considering its length and the time of day that it was written, I would once again like to preface a post with a request to excuse any potential crappy writing. Thanks!


Thanks to a break in my class scheduling, as well as a lack of quality daytime television programming, I watched roughly three hours of the mammoth Roger Clemens congressional hearing. I watched mainly to gain amusement from seeing Clemens squirm under pressure (you know, like he does when he pitches in big games), and as a result, I did not so much as jot down notes. Therefore, as you could probably imagine, this particular post will have a very disjointed feel, due to the fact that I’m writing this post recalling facts…in a piece that was already going to be based on recalling random facts.

First of all, as was painfully obvious for anyone who actually found time to watch the proceedings; it was absolutely pathetic that congress made performance-enhancing drugs in baseball a partisan issue. The committee members each were able to spend a few minutes to give their two cents, and it seemed to flip-flop back and forth between a Republican and a Democrat. So, whenever a Republican member posed a question, it was either an attack on Brian McNamee or a pat on the back for Roger Clemens. Likewise, the Democrats followed suit, only vice versa.

Granted, no party should receive a free pass for the blatant side-choosing, but I will admit that the Republicans were the worst of the offenders. The Democrats, unprofessional as it was to favor McNamee, were at least polite to Clemens. They may have mocked his testimony here and there when he was trapped in a corner, but for the most part, the Rocket was never verbally attacked.

The Republicans, however, acted a bit differently. They were borderline abusive to McNamee from the get-go, all the while praising Clemens for his character on and off the field. Tom Davis (a congressman from Indiana, no doubt making my fellow Hoosiers proud) even acknowledged the line in the sand when he said to McNamee that “they (the Democrats) are focused on him (Clemens), so I guess I’ll go ahead and talk to you…” Thank you for being so selfless, Mr. Davis. ‘I could take the highroad, but I think I’ll just continue this immature trend.’ Oh, and I like the “they” reference. Could you at least attempt to make it look like our legislative branch is somewhat united?

Aside from a few glaring examples of pro-Rocket bias from the Republicans (one member went so far as to call Roger Clemens a baseball “titan”) and an uncomfortable, homo-erotic moment in which Rep. Davis repeatedly mentioned Clemens’ buttocks, the most obvious case of one-sidedness came when yet another Hoosier, the charming Dan Burton, decided to grill McNamee. To start, he decided that the best way to fill most of his ten minute block was to read aloud past fallacious statements attributed to McNamee, even though these fallacies had already been documented. He then asked McNamee if “we are supposed to believe that you are telling the truth now.” An affirmative was given, followed with an articulate “gee-whiz!” from Burton. This was all chased by the congressman concluding his allotted time to speak by admitting that he didn’t know what to believe, but that he surely didn’t believe McNamee.

Why wouldn’t he, or any of the other Republicans, believe McNamee…if not for Clemens’ close ties to the Bush family? Based on the evidence produced, party loyalty would be the only explanation as to why Clemens earned a free pass from the Republicans. McNamee’s contributions to the Mitchell Report have been backed up by all the named players…except Clemens. McNamee has DNA evidence from used gauze pads and needles. Clemens has either been ratted out by someone (McNamee, Andy Pettite), changed his story (my wife took HGH in 1999, no wait, 2003, no…), or had someone come forth with a tale out of the blue (his wife admitted to using HGH without his knowledge).

And really, Andy Pettite puts the biggest hole in Clemens’ case. He fessed up for his actions (and displayed a load of guts and class by giving an uncensored press conference) and made it clear that Brian McNamee was telling the truth. Very clear. Under Oath clear. He also admitted that he and Clemens had talked about HGH use. This is (well, probably ‘was,’ now) Roger Clemens’ best friend. Pettite says he came clean about his and Clemens’ use because one day he “would have to answer to God.” Would he go out of his way to perjure himself and anger God just to screw the Rocket? Who, I would like to reiterate, was his best friend!

If you believe Clemens, apparently so. But, politically correct Roger says it’s okay: ‘He’s still my friend, he just misremembers and mishears things.’ I swear to God, if I heard him say misremember one more time, I was prepared to throw the television out the window (this would also involve giving my roommate money for a replacement; you know what they say, discretion is the better part of valor). It seemed like any time evidence was brought against him, Clemens would either have a semi-believable excuse (wouldn’t hold up in court, but was able to work at the deposition), throw a friend or family member (his wife, notably) under the bus, or simply say that whoever brought up an allegation “misremembered.”

The one thing working in the favor of Clemens: the infamous Jose Canseco pool party. Pretty much everything else McNamee has claimed seems to hold up. Yet, he stands by his assertion that he and Clemens attended this party (and more importantly, the potential ‘popping of the HGH cherry’ for Clemens). The Rocket has countered with evidence of his own (a golf receipt from the day of the party and a television broadcast featuring a discussion of Clemens’ lack of attendance at the party). This looked to be Roger’s way out, but a new development put a hold on that pipedream: the introduction of Clemens’ former nanny.

The nanny, who as far as I know was not named, testified that not only was Roger Clemens at the pool party, but that she, Mrs. Clemens, and their children spent the night. If this held up, McNamee’s entire deposition would be validated and Clemens would be left hanging in the balance.

What I find more interesting about the nanny is how she was introduced to congress. The committee asked Clemens to provide her name on a Monday and were not able to come in contact with her until the following Monday. Clemens’ lawyers claimed to have fully cooperated, but the nanny noted in her testimony that she flew in to meet with Roger the day before her meeting with the committee. When accusations of tampering with a witness were hinted at, Clemens’ lawyers went berserk (as did ESPN legal consultant Roger Cossack, who was disturbingly pro-Clemens), claiming it was normal procedure. In my studies (a.k.a. perusing CNN.com), I have discovered that normal procedure dictates that the lawyers meet with the nanny, not Clemens. Did he tamper with the witness? Not for me to say, but I certainly have a hunch (hint: it starts with ‘y’ and ends with ‘es’).

Now, did the testimony of the nanny sway the opinions of any committee members who initially believed Clemens? Not exactly. Our good friend, Mr. Burton, brushed aside her comments, because Jose Canseco, the party’s host, has been on record as saying that Clemens was not there. Don’t get me wrong, this is a very valid point. But, I would lend it more credence if:

a) Jose Canseco was not a D-Bag.

and

b) Canseco was not just cited for extortion (you may or may not have heard, but Jose is slaving away on another tell-all steroids book; he discovered some info on Magglio Ordonez, and like any other reputable journalist he…offered to omit his scandalous deeds in exchange for millions of dollars; hmm, maybe I’ll think twice before I take his word as gospel in the Clemens situation).

Aside from the revelation of the nanny, the deposition was a major waste of time. As you can see above, each party had its mind made up ahead of time about who was to be believed and who was not. Still, I did not get the sense that I had wasted three hours of my life watching it, based solely on three things:

1) I saw Roger Clemens squirm (as well as emit a confused chuckle when asking what a ‘vegan’ was…I’m pretty sure he thought it was part of the female anatomy).

2) I saw Henry Waxman, the committee chairman, whip out the old gavel to quiet Clemens down when he repeatedly interrupted his closing remarks (an absolute bitchslap!).

3) I saw Waxman end the proceedings with an apology to McNamee for the harsh treatment he received from the Republicans (the camera was not on him, but I’m pretty sure that after he said this, he turned to the men he called out and gave them the “dick-grab”).

Also, my devotion to this deposition allowed me to see the Q&A session between Clemens’ lawyers and the media immediately following the event. Why so noteworthy? Because I witnessed the two men get trapped in one of the Rocket’s lies. One lawyer answered a ‘why did he meet with the nanny before…’ question by saying that woman had been a family friend for years. Later, the other lawyer noted that the woman has not associated with the Clemens family in almost eight years. I suppose the fact that Clemens’ reunion with his long-lost BFF occurred the night before she was to meet with the committee to answer questions about him was a coincidence? Yeah…I’m not buying it. Of course, the lawyers (who are making big bucks for a reason) were able to skate through the potential controversy. Nevertheless, this moment, and the three listed above, were enough to validate lending my attention to the deposition for three hours.

Now, after this analysis (which turned out to be longer than I expected), you might be wondering where I stand on the issue. Yes, I think Roger Clemens is a phony piece of shit who only cares about himself, and yes, I think the Republicans were way, way, way too hard on McNamee. But the fact of the matter remains that I really do not give a rat’s ass about performance-enhancing drugs in baseball. Granted, I think the drugs (specifically HGH, the main culprit in this case) help pitchers out a lot more than they do hitters (which is why people need to get off Barry Bonds’ ass immediately), but at this point, I’m reserving judgment until a later date. I may delight in seeing Roger Clemens foolishly perjure himself, but do I want to see him go to jail? No. Do I think he (or Bonds) should be singled out in an era when “clean” players were probably in the minority? No.

So amazingly, I do not want Clemens to be reprimanded for his actions (which now could be a lying under oath charge)…at least for now. That’s not to say that I do not enjoy watching him make a fool of himself. Because, let’s be honest, it’s still Roger Clemens…

Keep Talking

Bill Walton has created a minor controversy with his on-air comments regarding the recent NBA trades turned to Shaquille O’Neal: “Shaq’s arrogance is an insult to people who think.” And, speaking in place of the Big Diesel: “I can’t play at all, (but) now I’m going to win the championship (in Phoenix)—which is ludicrous.”

Shaq, who has a long history with Walton (he tutored the big man when he attended LSU), countered that the analyst’s “resume isn’t quite good enough to speak on what I’ve done. I look at what Mr. Walton has done and what he’s said—and one thing I hate is a hypocrite.”

First off, this only adds to the Lakers/Suns rivalry as now not only is it Shaq vs. Kobe, but it might also be Shaq vs. Luke Walton. Secondly, I am really hoping we get a classic Bill Walton sound byte to rebut O’Neal’s comments. You know, something like…

“Shaquille O’Neal, what a player, but what a human being! Mr. O’Neal, you know I mean nothing personal by my criticism; I just want you to be you. We know what you’ve done in the past; we know what you are all about! You could turn yourself into a Greg Ostertag-esque presence down in the paint! I mean, you are working with Steve Nash. And wow, Steve Nash! He won’t blow you away with any athleticism, but I haven’t seen a man shoot the ball and deliver passes in the manner that he does in quite some time. Did Magic Johnson and World B. Free get together and have a baby? I think that they did. And that’s why I like Steve Nash and the Suns to do some damage this year in the Western Conference.”

Now, all of this nonsense about verbalizing the perfect quote has got me thinking. What are the funniest sports sound bytes of all time? Why not make a list? So, with this in mind, I give you some of my favorite sports quotes:

(Note that these quotes are not in any particular order, save the top five, which are ranked accordingly. I’ve also removed quotes that are hilarious when viewed, yet aren’t funny in print—so no coaching tirades.)

“This is the second most exciting indoor sport, and the other one shouldn't have spectators.”-- Dick Vertleib

"The only thing that keeps this organization from being recognized as one of the finest in baseball is wins and losses at the major league level."-- Devil Rays GM Chuck Lamar on his team

"Because there are no fours."-- Colossal waste of talent Antoine Walker when asked why he shoots so many three pointers

"I am the most loyal player money can buy." --Baseball player Don Sutton

"People think we make $3 million and $4 million a year. They don't realize that most of us only make $500,000." --Baseball player Pete Incaviglia

"They shouldn't throw at me. I'm the father of five or six kids."--Baseball player Tito Fuentes, after getting hit by a pitch

"I want all the kids to do what I do, to look up to me. I want all the kids to copulate me." --Chicago Cubs outfielder Andre Dawson on being a role model

"I don't care what the tape says. I didn't say it."--Football coach Ray Malavasi

"Hawaii doesn't win many games in the United States." --Football analyst Lee Corso

"Any time Detroit scores more than 100 points and holds the other team below 100 points, they almost always win." --Doug Collins
"I've won at every level, except college and pro." --Shaquille O'Neal, on his lack of championships

"We're going to turn this team around 360 degrees."--Jason Kidd

"I'm glad you're doing this story on us and not on the WNBA. We're so much prettier than all the other women in sports." -Martina Hingis in Detour Magazine

"I can sell out Madison Square Garden masturbating."
--Mike Tyson

"I am the most ruthless, brutal champion ever. There is no one who can match me. I want your heart. I want to eat your children." --Mike Tyson to Lennox Lewis

"I might just fade into bolivion. I am going to chill with my children and fly my birds."
--Mike Tyson (attempting to say oblivion) after a loss to Lennox Lewis

"Ah, isn't that nice, the wife of the Cambridge president is kissing the cox of the Oxford crew."-Harry Carpenter during a BBC TV Boat Race 1977

5) "I'm trying to be a good teammate here … let's just say we had some problems with protection."
--Peyton Manning, in reference to his offensive line after a playoff loss to the Pittsburgh Steelers. (What? It’s not funny? I think this is hilarious!)

4) "This is Gregoriava from Bulgaria....I saw her snatch this morning and it was amazing."--Pat Glenn, a weightlifting commentator

3) “You’re with me, leather.”
--ESPN commentator (as well as a husband and father) stealing an attractive, leather-clad woman from a fellow sportswriter at a bar during a past Super Bowl week

2) "The girls danced, started fondling me, I got aroused, they performed oral sex. I hung around a little bit and talked to them, then I left."
--Patrick Ewing in an official court testimony

1) "[He] called me a 'rapist' and a 'recluse'. I'm not a recluse."--Mike Tyson, on writer Wallace Matthews

Most Likely Jason Will Go His Way and Devin Will Go Shine

--When asked about his feelings on moving to Dallas to play for the Mavericks, Jason Kidd replied that he looks forward to being able to play with his new teammates, but the biggest perk is “being able to beat my family in a state that is a lot more understanding of this sort of thing.”

--Speaking of big trades, I was perusing foxsports.com this morning and came across Mike Kahn’s analysis of all the wheeling and dealing that is taking place in the NBA right now. I present an excerpt from his breakdown of the Los Angeles Lakers:

“… now if [those] Lakers fans calling for general manager Mitch Kupchak’s head will please step forward, grab your ankles and take your medicine, we can get this over with. Mitch, will you please take the big paddle with the holes in it? And when we’re finished, the knuckleheads in L.A. will have no alternative but to look at you and respond, ‘Thank you sir, may I have another.’”

Can we take a closer look at this?

“…will please step forward, grab your ankles, and take your medicine…”

Okay, I realize that I write a sports blog, so I should not be in a position to dole out advice to anyone who gets paid for their work. Nevertheless, in my humble opinion, I don’t believe that using the term ‘grab your ankles’ is the smartest thing in the world. I realize he ultimately referred to receiving a spanking (which is still a little iffy in the acceptable department), but when I first read this, my initial thought was “where in the hell is he going with this?”

--While we are on the subject of Mitch Kupchak (sans the creepy S&M image provided by Mr. Kahn), I would like to ask a question: is there any way at all that he is not executive of the year? He went against the grain to hold on to Andrew Bynum (which is paying dividends), his draft picks from the past few years are molding into one of the best supporting casts in the NBA, he unloaded Kwame Brown’s contract and got Pau Gasol in return...he has basically gone about his business, quietly assembling a championship contender, all the while being chastised by anyone and everyone. Maybe you give the award to Danny Ainge, but keep in mind, Ainge assembled his team by mortgaging the future to win now. Kupchak has laid out a blueprint to make Los Angeles a contender for (at least) the next five years. So tell me, who is better than who?

--My roommate and I were discussing NASCAR, surprisingly, and we came to a realization: NASCAR could have an “all-star weekend.” Think about it this way, everybody bitches and moans about restrictions and regulations on specs that limit the cars, so why not have a Friday/Saturday/Sunday showcase, throwing the rules aside? You could have a 100 mile, no regulations race for the Busch (or is it Nationwide now?) guys on Friday, have the ten highest guys in the points standings at the time of the event get together on Saturday for a timed obstacle course of sorts, and have the Sprint Cup racers have their own 100 mile no regulations race on Sunday. Some potential safety issues aside, this could be amazing. So much so that even I would be inclined to watch.

…

Okay, maybe not.

--While on the topic of NASCAR, I would like to mention this comical segment that aired on CNN. It showed a myriad of racers defending the idea of racing being a sport. I’m not going to argue the merits of that logic, but I will say that they are kidding themselves if they think they are bigger athletes than football or basketball players. Two of my favorite comments:

“I’d like to see those guys play the entire game in an unbearably hot chamber…” (My personal favorite “NASCAR is a sport” argument. Are you saying that if I turn my car heater all the way up on a 100 degree day that I’m an athlete?)

and

“Yeah, those guys don’t exactly have it easy, and last time I checked, we don’t get to go to the sideline for timeouts…” (What exactly do you call a pit-stop? Oh! I forgot that you don’t get to leave your unbearably hot chamber, so it doesn’t count.)

--I was listening to the Elvis Presley song “In the Ghetto” the other day, and while it is a great song, you could easily make the case that it has very racist undertones. It never mentions skin color, but what do you think the songwriter (Scot Davis) had in mind when he set out to tell the tale of a boy who grows up, starts to fight and steal, and is ultimately shot and killed “in the ghetto?” I’m just saying…

--Okay, bear with me on this next thought. I’d like to make reference to a couple of television shows that I absolutely love. The first comes from an episode of Roseanne. In it, the family is unable to pay the electric bill in time, finds out at the last minute that they will be cut off, and scrambles to gather flashlights and candles in preparation of the darkness. When the lights finally go out, Roseanne looks to her husband, Dan, and, with a shrug, wryly says: “Well, middle class sure was fun.”

The second thought is actually an observation that I came up with while watching yet another rerun of Scrubs a few nights ago. In season one, then-intern Elliot Reid befriends a frequent, and very neurotic, patient, Jill Tracy. Jill is featured in a couple of episodes, the second of which alludes to her growing close to Elliot. In season four, Jill passes away and, while J.D. feels immense guilt about the death, Elliot is alarmingly unaffected. Would you not think that the writers would at least have Elliot acknowledge her death to validate the blossoming friendship as seen is season one? Am I reading way too much into this television show? Are you wondering what I’m talking about because you don’t watch Scrubs? If you answered yes to the either of the two final questions, fear not. I am switching gears back to sports for one more thought.

--I would just like to make it known that the Jason Kidd joke that kicked off this post was initially the centerpiece of an elaborate press conference parody. After a clumsy opening, it dawned on me that it might not be such a great idea to create a 2500 word post based solely around one joke. Here is a taste of what could have been, were I foolish enough to grind the blog entry out:

1) I was going to make Jeff Schwartz (Jason Kidd’s agent) out to be a Drew Rosenhaus-type character. While I have every right to assume that Schwartz is an asshole (he is a sports agent, after all), I can’t assume that his douchiness reaches Rosenhaus levels. Thus, I can’t depict him as a surly moderator at a press conference.

2) Keeping with the “prick agent” stereotype, I initially had Scwhartz use a derogatory term for Keith Van Horn, only to be lectured by a reporter. Schwartz would then have the reporter thoroughly embarrassed and then removed. It would later be discovered that the reporter’s eight year old son was watching the entire incident, because he was “proud to finally see Daddy on T.V.”

3) I was then going to depict Jason Kidd as a lackadaisical half-wit (mainly because it always seems like he just smoked a blunt right before every interview), going so far as to have him analyze Devean George’s trade embargo with a Beastie Boys reference (“he just had to fight for his right to party”), with Scwartz jumping in and explaining that “by party, he meant (legalese pertaining to the trade).”

Boy, was I reaching with this or what? You should all thank me that I decided to scrap the post. Why am I posting some of the details? So you can get some amusement out of my embarrassment.

After the Ball

This year's mid-season showcase has come and gone, so now, enjoy a few all-star game thoughts:
1) Ray Allen deserved the MVP (if only for hitting those three clutch triples down the stretch), but thanks to the brilliant idea of letting the fans vote, LeBron James (who had worthy stats) snagged it.

2) Thanks to the pinkie injury, I am now able to maintain that the East won the all-star game (and LeBron won the MVP) only because Kobe was sidelined for all but three minutes.

3) Doug Collins, pre-game: “As soon as everyone gets healthy, the Cavs will be the team to beat in the East. I know about Boston and Detroit, but LeBron is too good.”

Doug Collins, in-game: “Chauncey Billups is so good, he is definitely returning to the MVP form from the finals a few years ago. He is the reason why Detroit will be the team to beat in the East this post-season.”

Wow. Must I elaborate?

Now, second half thoughts…

4) I am really not sure what to make of the New Orleans Hornets. Early on, I thought they were a fluke. Then, they maintained a blistering pace, so I thought they might actually have something. Next, they dropped a couple easy games, so I assumed they were coming back down to earth. Now, they have picked the pace back up and are still leading the West. What gives? Do I trust them or not? Thanks to a statistic provided by TNT, I now have an answer I plan on sticking with for the rest of the season: the Hornets are good, but not great. My rationale? New Orleans is 13-0 in overtime games. At first glance, you might think “wow, they must be something!” But think about it. One basket here or there and that 36-15 record could easily be 23-28. Maybe I am being too harsh, but I want the team to prove that they can pull those close games out come playoff time. And besides, 13-0 in overtime means you have luck on your side. Can that luck actually last all season long? We’ll just have to see.

5) Finally, if I could get a little mushy, I’d like to supply a link to a USA Today article: http://www.usatoday.com/sports/basketball/nba/lakers/2008-02-17-Bryant_N.htm
It caught my eye due to the mention of Kobe Bryant, but I think it is worth reading just to see how much energy everyone in the NBA put forth during the league’s all-star visit to the Big Easy. Who says the NBA has an image problem? Maybe the white majority has a racist problem.

Sharp Dressed Man

Two things have transpired over the past couple of weeks…

1) The congressional hearing for Roger Clemens and Brian McNamee

and

2) Arlen Specter developing a case of douchiness, meeting with Roger Goodell, and then exacerbating the douchiness over the Spy-gate scandal.

…that have allowed this little scenario to pop up in my head:

Imagine if Coach Bill Belichick were asked to testify before congress over the incident involving game tapes. I am praying that this doesn’t get blown out of proportion even more and that we are subjected to another bizarre lovechild of sports and politics (which belong together like Adolf Hitler and Anne Frank). But, should the situation occur, I think it would be humorous to see some of the top ranking Patriots brass march into the congressional chamber, followed by Coach Belichick, donning a hooded sweatshirt with cut-off sleeves. Wouldn’t that be making the absolute best out of a shitty situation?

Here’s to hoping that Specter realizes that Spy-gate is none of his (or any of his constituents’) business and that nothing more is made of the scandal. But on the off chance that it does happen, I will pray like mad to see the hoody make an “unscheduled appearance” (if you will). I’d just love to see the fallout from that.

It's Only Basketball (But I Like It)

***This particular post was hastily written late at night. Rather than giving it an extensive rewrite and tweaking things here and there, I just took the lazy “screw it, it’s a blog” route and decided to post it as is. Besides, I haven’t properly written any post on this site so far, why start now? (But look for that to come this summer, when I have a lot more free time on my hands.)

With the NBA season already fast becoming one of the best in a long time, I think now more than ever would be a perfect time to sift through some random thoughts about the association. Most of them pertain to the flurry of activity that has spiced things up considerably over the past couple of weeks, but others have to deal with random ideas that have been floating around in my head.

Drum roll, please.

1) My sports schizophrenia kicks in anytime I decide to analyze the Shaq-to-Phoenix trade, with the paranoid personality thinking the worst. Best-case-scenario for Phoenix, Shaq becomes for the Suns what Kareem was to the Showtime Lakers, provides stifling interior defense, and allows for certain situations to be slowed down and ran through him for some low-post offensive carnage. If this happens, they just might be able to hoist the Larry O’Brien Trophy come this June.

But then, my rational personality kicks in and I look at the trade like so: what are the odds that Shaq is able to stay healthy for a sustainable playoff run? What are the odds that Shaq will be able to be effective going against Dirk Nowitzki, Erick Dampier, Tim Duncan, Pau Gasol, and Andrew Bynum on a continuous basis during the grueling Western Conference playoffs? How will Phoenix’s perimeter players make up for the loss of Shawn Marion, the only man on the Suns who actually played defense? How will Shaq feel about giving up the spotlight if and when the team faces adversity in May or June?

Yes, it’s possible that this is just what the Suns needed in order to finally get over the championship hump, but let’s be honest, this doesn’t necessarily seem like a dream trade for the Suns (and yes, I know what happened last time I went against my paranoid personality in a prediction, of which the last part is fun to say, by the way). Granted, Marion has always wanted to be “The Man” somewhere else and the Shaq trade has a minimal chance of being the perfect answer, but I just don’t see it. I think we will see the Shaq we’ve grown accustomed to over the past two years, because, sadly, the dream is over for the Diesel.

2) I really don’t blame Devean George for putting the kibosh on the Jason Kidd-to-Dallas trade. From what I understand, his contract guarantees him a certain amount of money over the next year or two, but a trade to New Jersey will nullify that. At this point, George can no longer attract the amount of money he would stand to make from Dallas and will lose millions. People want to give him shit about being selfish, but why would you knowingly sacrifice a fortune just because you want to remain a fan favorite? As you can tell, I really am not sure of the specifics, hence the vague contract/salary references, but I’ve been able to impart the gist of what is going on. And I still think that George is getting screwed.

3) The Chicago Bulls have shot down rumors that they are courting Larry Brown to coach their team for either the remainder of the season or at the start of next year. I think that they are nuts to do so. Save his time with the New York Knicks (which, given its current state, was obviously not his fault), Brown has gotten the most out of every team that he has coached. Heading into this season, the Bulls looked like a team that was preparing to bust through to an elite level. The Kobe Bryant trade rumors and injuries/old age (I’m looking at you Ben Wallace) have turned this season into a disaster, but Larry Brown is the ideal choice for an enforcer who can get things back on track. Add him, and tweak the roster a tad (try like hell to lose the aforementioned Wallace), and I think the Bulls can be legitimate contenders in the East next season.

4) Last week featured two college basketball games with very controversial endings. Georgetown/Villanova and Rutgers/Tennessee both ended with last second, go-ahead foul shots. I was asked by quite a few people which game bothered me more. My answer was complex: technically, I thought Georgetown over Nova was a rip-off, but I was pulling for Georgetown, so I was enraged. But the fact of the matter is that the game was very physical and the refs let them play (which is a plus), yet they gave the game to the Hoyas based on a ticky-tack call (even though technically, it was a foul, so there should be no controversy*). In all honesty, the home cookin’ that helped the game clock mysteriously stop at 0.2 seconds was a grosser offense, and Rutgers got sodomized with a spiked dildo sans lube. The only reason it didn’t bother me more was that it was a women’s basketball game. Ergo, I don’t really care.

5) I’ve officially decided that Pau Gasol must change his jersey number to 13. Why? Think of the nickname potential! We’ve been inundated with unimaginative titles such as T-Mac, AI, KG, KB24, etc. that we are starving for some creativity. Granted, my idea for Pau is corny, but cheesiness is half the fun of nicknames. Now properly prefaced, I give you Pau’s nickname (and at first, you may think “hey! That’s just another of the boring names,” but think about it for just a bit. It’s a tad more complex than you think.): PG-13. Any time he makes an amazing play, the color commentator could say “that play was rated PG-13 for strong, domineering basketball!” Or a boneheaded error: “that play was rated PG-13 for comic mischief!” Or, given the nature of the NBA: “that rape charge was rated PG-13 for strong sexual content!” Are you with me? Let’s make this happen!

6) I watched the very compelling “Airborne” documentary about the history of the slam-dunk contest. It shows how bad of shape an event is in when the pre-game tribute special is more compelling than the actual competition.

***NOTE: This thought became irrelevant after Dwight Howard single-handedly saved the dunk contest earlier this evening.

7) I actually enjoyed the bizarre long-ball challenge that pitted various teams composed of a WNBA player, NBA player, and NBA legend against one another. Still, I would like to send a message to Commissioner Stern: STOP TRYING TO MAKE THE WNBA RELEVANT, IT’S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!

8) I am still not sure how I feel about Stan Van Gundy’s criticism of Dwight Howard last week. But I do know that Dwight Howard is the real deal and true heir apparent to Shaq. Not only did he follow up the comments with a dominant performance the next night, but he also conceded that his coach was right about his effort. Powerful and classy, nice.

9) This is a truly random thought, but how can television commentators refer to a player with a hot hand as “stroking it?” Don’t you think the censors would at least insinuate to these guys that there are some negative connotations to that term?

10) I have a theory that might seem a tad controversial to certain people (surprise, surprise): once he has been retired for a few years, I think we will look back and see Allen Iverson as one of the most underrated super-stars (which might be an oxy-moron) ever. He sacrifices his body on a nightly basis and he gave his heart and soul to a team that wasn’t committed to winning for about five years, shaving a couple of years off of his career in the process. Iverson will never be forgotten, but I do not believe that he will fully receive his due.

11) In a non-basketball story, since I’ve brought up the topic of underrating someone, where does David Puddy (Seinfeld) fit on the television character list? Looking back, every damn scene the character was in was absolutely hilarious. Maybe because he was a part of the greatest show of all-time, he gets lost in the shuffle, but it seems clear to me that we have a grave injustice on our hands.

12) You may or may not be aware that Kobe Bryant has seriously injured his shooting hand pinky finger (dislocation, followed by a torn ligament). You also may not know of a ridiculous rule hidden in the league’s by-laws that is forcing Kobe to play through the pain. The rule states that if a player is healthy enough to play in the game before all-star game, he must then play in the annual competition or face a one-game suspension (or, the player could be injured and miss both games as well). What a load of crap. Kobe has already manned up as witnessed by his decision to decline surgery and play through the pain in the regular season. But you are making him play in a silly exhibition because you won’t allow for some interpretation on the rule? I fully agree that a rule is a rule when dealing with regular or post season issues, but it’s the all-star game. Cut him some slack.

13) The three-point contest featured one of the funniest “unintentionally funny live television” moments I have ever seen. TNT trotted out Kenny Smith, Reggie Miller, Charles Barkley, and Kevin Harlan to provide commentary for the event. When asked by his fellow analysts why certain players opt to start on the far side of the court, he responded that “some guys are more comfortable with specific areas on the floor. For example, a lot of players feel that they can get in a groove once they make it past the left or right tiddy…” Barkley had a field day:

“Tiddy? Did you just say tiddy at a basketball game?”

“Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to say man boob?”

“Reggie, you don’t know how hard it is for me to hold back on this.”

Luckily for TNT, the laughter was kept at a minimum as the conversation started just prior to a commercial break. Nevertheless, I feel privileged to have witnessed this moment as it occurred in real-time. And it also proves a theory I have had floating around my head for quite some time: if you watch Charles Barkley for an extended period of time, you will witness at least one moment that will make you laugh your ass off. I guarantee it.

14) I’m going to keep this particular thought very brief, just so I don’t jinx the guy, but Vladdy Radmanovic has been looking gooooooooooooooood lately. For whatever reason, since Pau came on board, his defense has picked up and is shot has started going down. Now, let’s see some consistency you hairy bastard.

15) Now, on another Lakers note, I have come to a sad realization: I think Kobe needs to get the surgery on his pinky. It has been recommended by team doctors and will keep him sidelined for six weeks. Before the Gasol trade, I would never have dreamed of backing surgery. Yet, with Bynum back in a couple of weeks, combined with Pau (who is not that far removed from leading the Memphis Grizzlies into the playoffs three years in a row), the Lake Show can handle its own. And with any luck, Kobe can return in time to get a tune-up just before the playoffs. Because when it comes down to it, seeding really doesn’t matter in the West this year. When there is a distinct possibility that a 50 win team winds up on the outside looking in, there really is not that much of a difference between a three seed and an eight seed.

16) So as you may or may not know, I attend Indiana University. You also probably know that this year’s big man on campus in Eric Gordon. My schedule for this semester has worked out that I pass Gordon every other day on my way back from class. I don’t find it nearly as exciting as my roommate does, but that’s not the issue here. An event from earlier today has just made my “Gordon sightings” list become weirder. I visited the local Taco Bell for some fine, Mexican cuisine and lo and behold, what do I see? Eric Gordon’s family (I recognized them from their appearances on game telecasts, plus they talked to each other like they were in the loop with IU)! How weird is that? And how many more Taco Bell trips do you think they will make after this year’s NBA draft?

*And trust me, it technically should have been a foul. I just want to make this clear so I don’t get mobbed with any “then why were you such a stickler for the rules in the Pats/Ravens game?” comments.

(Just Like) Starting Over

As per usual, I was watching ESPN this past evening when a commercial for Gatorade caught my eye. I was trying to guess which athlete they were going to trot out this time when, to my dismay, I realized that it was yet another commercial about Super Bowl XLII. Generally, I have flipped the channel immediately once I catch a glimpse of this game (which I still plan on blocking out of my head eventually), but for whatever reason, I decided to continue watching on this night.

Bad idea.

After going through a slideshow of in-game pictures, Eli Manning’s inbred face fills up the screen. And what do I see right after? The word ‘clutch.’

WHAT!!

Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t give a fucking shit if the man was the quarterback for the drive that gave them the championship! It’s not as if he looked in complete control, directing traffic as he methodically moved his team down the field. No, let’s take a look at what he actually did:

--Nearly fumbled after failing to protect the ball on a run where he was caught from behind by Adalius Thomas (the same guy who made him fumble on a similar play earlier).

--Chucked up a classic Eli Manning throw to the sideline (with no Giants player in sigh—oh, I did say classic Eli Manning throw, so this is a moot point) that should have been intercepted.

--Danced around the pocket, should have been sacked (the only amazing move by Eli on this drive was the elusion of the sack, but let’s be honest, it was as much luck as anything—a few inches here or there and a defender grasps more than just jersey), and tosses up a heave to a well-covered David Tyree, who makes the most amazing catch in NFL history (and a catch that couldn’t be replicated again in 100 more tries).

--Throws a wide-open lob to his 6’5” receiver after a blown coverage by Ellis Hobbs leaves him without a defender.

So he’s clutch because he didn’t miss Plaxico Burress, who was wide open just 15 yards away!? I don’t give a shit if it is the Super Bowl on the line, unless he just spiked the ball into the ground or threw it twelve rows into the stands, Burress was going to get his mitts on the ball. I’m not trying to take a piss on Eli’s parade, but let’s not force history to remember this event as if Eli pulled a John Elway! It’s bad enough that he received MVP, especially considering the consensus is that since defensive units can’t win it, voters decided to give it to the quarterback!

Ah, I’m going to cut myself off right there, but I feel much better.

This was the first time that I wasn’t completely consumed with sadness while referencing the game. Now it’s half depression, half anger. And do you know what that means? I’m getting my fire back. David’s back, bitches! I am anew, let’s talks sports!

*I'm going to implement something new; from now on, titles of posts will be a derivative of something within the pop-culture lexicon. What exactly is it? For now, you'll just have to guess, but the columns will be tagged with an additional clue to help you on your way. Let the games begin!

Hey, Hey It's the Grammys

Disclaimer: I wrote the first draft of this post in the actual text box on the website (rather than copy-and-pasting it from Word), and I got the dreaded “Internet Explorer has encountered a problem and needs to close message…,” so needless to say, I was pissed. And naturally, I feel like this re-write is very poor in comparison. So, without further ado, my second-favorite recap of the 2008 Grammys:

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks since I last imparted wisdom to you all. Many eventful things have taken place, and not just in sports, but in the real world as well. I am not going to talk about any of those things right now. Instead, I’m going to describe to you an event that has left an emotional scar that will last a lifetime. It occurred at the most irrelevant of events, the Grammys.

Yes, I actually decided to watch the show this year, mainly because Sir Paul McCartney had been nominated in two categories (neither of which he won [what’s the deal, Grammys people? You’ve put him on your damn CD three years in a row now!]), and I wanted to see me some Macca. The aforementioned trauma-inducing event didn’t involve Sir Paul, but rather, his former bandmate, Ringo Starr.

To set the stage for what was about to occur, I’d like you to visualize me multi-tasking: surfing the internet and taking intermittent glances at the television screen. I was about to focus exclusively on my laptop and bid adieu to the Grammys, but my interest was piqued again when the announcer sent the show to commercial as follows: “…and Ringo Starr will help announce the winner for Country Album of the Year!”

I had two thoughts:

1) Shouldn’t Country Album of the Year be one of the awards they hand out at the press conference earlier in the afternoon with the Polka, Reggae, etc. categories?

and

2) Why in the hell is an iconic legend of Rock and Roll slumming to hand out a Country award?

The telecast resumed and sure enough, Mr. Starkey strolled out on stage to announce the winner—the PA guy didn’t misspeak (to quote Roger Clemens). After forcing out some alliterative joke centered on the word ‘country,’ (oh, and before I continue, the golden opportunity to work ‘cunt’ into the live telecast was horribly passed over) the winner was announced: Vince Gill.

I half-expected to see Gill stroll up onstage with a tuxedo t-shirt, a camouflage Dale Earnhardt Jr. cap, and cowboy boots, but I was pleasantly surprised. And the man even gave credit where credit was due, saying “I can’t believe I just got handed an award by a Beatle.” I would like to take this time to tip my hat (hell, in this metaphor, it can even be a cowboy hat, Vince) to you, sir, for showing the proper amount of respect. And I guess there are some rednecks who acknowledge the unparalleled greatness of the Beatles. However, they must not have a tribe established in Southern Indiana.

Now, by this point, you are probably asking yourself “where does the emotional scarring come into play?” Well, my friend, it comes into play right now. Upon making his “Beatle gave me an award” spiel, Gill turned to Kanye West and said “this never happened to you, did it, Kanye?”

That sound you hear is the shattering of my entire universe.

Vince Gill, the musical equivalent of a rodeo clown, just taunted a legend-in-the-making (who I’ll concede is known for making boisterous claims about awards he should or should not receive in order to satisfy his starving ego) by making a joke involving an actual legend that basically amounted to a child on a playground proclaiming “nana, nana, boo-boo!” Of course, there was the courtesy laughter, but surely, the sheer oddity of collective musical opposites actual communicating with one another should have brought a confused hush over the audience.

No doubt, the few rednecks watching at home sporting woodies for one of their men spat up their beer and flung their Fritos in the air, all the while asking their television set “did he just talk to a colored!?” All the while, black folks everywhere posed this head-scratcher: “KKK musician says what!?”

To his credit, Kanye, one of the coolest guys in the world, handled things graciously. He applauded and even gave a courtesy chuckle. But deep down, you just know that he had to be thinking “who is this motherfucker? I’m Kanye fucking West!”

And after that, the Country fellows bowed out for the evening. My guess is that had the camera panned to their section after this award, you would see mud-caked walkways leading out to a cavalcade of F-150s. The lone exception to this Country rule came at last year’s awards, when the Grammy committee decided to give all the major hardware to the Dixie Chicks after the Country community shunned them for their continued criticism of George W. Bush.

Yet, this was not last year. Therefore, Toby Keith was no longer on stand-by to put a foot in some hoity-toity, America-hating, Grammy voter’s ass. Instead, he was just able to soak in the most awkward moment in Grammys history: the night that a Country musician used a Beatle to trash a Rap musician.

…

I wish I could have made this up.

Depression

I am still in complete and total shock.

What happened?

Did the undefeated, 18-0 New England Patriots actually get outplayed by the New York Giants?

Unfortunately, it looks as if it did indeed happen.

This loss is the perfect microcosm of why I love sports so much.

This loss is also the perfect microcosm of why I hate sports so much.

We’re going on day two of “eighteen and one” and I have yet to accept the loss. I am still feeling the sick sensation in the pit of my stomach, going over each agonizing missed opportunity. That last drive for instance, when Eli Manning “out-Bradied” Tom Brady, I keep hoping that if I re-imagine each scenario enough, the outcome will change. Asante Samuel hauls in that interception, the game is more than likely over. The Patriots finish the sack of Eli, the game is more than likely over. Rodney Harrison somehow wrestles that pass away from David Tyree (or Tyree just drops it) the game is more than likely over. So many opportunities, so many disappointments.

I think that I would feel better if the final score was 117-14, Giants. At least in this scenario, I would be able to gradually accept the fact that the dream is indeed over. Instead, I will now have to suffer for the next two weeks, going over every conceivable nuance in my mind, trying to will the Patriots to the win that will never be.

The sick part of all of this is that I somehow partly feel responsible. Like many folks, I too had drank the Kool-Aid: “if the Patriots were going to lose, they would have done so already;” “give Belichick two weeks to prepare for a team he has faced once this season and it’s game over;” “Tom Brady lose a Super Bowl? Please.” The fact of the matter is that though I painstakingly attempted avoid this over the past couple of weeks, I had a confidence that began to seep over into arrogance. In the back of my mind, I had worried about the Giants, but I always worry about the competition my favorite teams face. On the surface, I played everything out perfectly. I opted not to partake in the myriad number of polls asking the “who is gonna win?” question. I coyly portrayed the “aw shucks, I hope the Pats win” fan, knocking on wood any time I made a bold statement about the game.

Yet, in the back of my mind, I just knew the Patriots were gonna to win. Maybe they would be tested, though my arrogant mindset doubted it, but I still thought the win was in the bag. And taking all of this in, I never actually put New England in harm’s way until the weekend of the Super Bowl.

It all started with my dissection of the Pau Gasol trade. As a sports fan, I have never really been terribly lucky. I don’t want to even insinuate that I have it as bad as a lot of fans do, but aside from the 1999-2002 Lakers, my sporting fortunes have been rather ordinary.* The fact that such a life-altering trade took place before the big game should have set forth a lot of red flags. Was I really going to experience two separate cases of ecstasy in the same weekend? I was supremely confident that I was. So the downfall began.

I took the tumble down to yet another level when I decided to take this silly little sports column a bit too seriously. I had the audacity to make a Super Bowl pick. I actually made two! One worst-case scenario and one “logical” pick—both of which were Patriots victories. Who was going to read this? Only people who already knew what my prediction would be. Yet after much deliberation, I decided to go through with my forecast for the game: the arrogance had come to a head. The seeds for a loss were planted and the deed was done.

The worst part about all of this is that in a bit of blissful ignorance, I headed into the game with a level of optimism I had never experienced: the Lakers were back in the title hunt for the first time in four years and my second favorite football team was about to put an exclamation point on the first ever 19-0 season against one of my least favorite teams. Life was good. If only I knew what I was in for.

As if it were scripted to play out like a classic tragedy, my night went from angelic to hellish in the span of four hours. I was keyed up for kick-off—I knew that this was going to be New England’s night. However, the first sign of trouble came on the very first drive. Eli and co. were able to sustain a drive that clocked at just under ten minutes. But the defense stiffened up, holding the G-Men to a field goal; everything seemed to be okay again. So much so that when the Patriots were driving for their first score, I hoped that Brady would throw the touchdown to bolster his MVP chances. I was actually a bit disappointed when Laurence Maroney took it in for the score. What I wouldn’t give to have Maroney be the MVP of the Super Bowl.

Neither team scored in the second quarter, but the uneasy feeling began to make my stomach churn out a few knots. Brady was not getting any protection at all and this high-powered offense that was supposed to thrive in these conditions was not doing a single thing. Meanwhile, the Giants were keeping the game in hand. At the half it became obvious that though the Pats held a small lead, the game was playing out about as well New York could have hoped.

Even the halftime show seemed to foreshadow that this great New England juggernaut was in for a rude awakening. Tom Petty, who was amazing, trotted out a hit-filled four song set. Included in the routine were the songs “Running Down a Dream,” a song that could double as an anthem for the Giants, and “Free Falling,” a tune that may have brought forth an ominous feeling of inevitability for the Patriots. It didn’t hit me at the time, but in hindsight I realize that I was cheering on the soundtrack of New England’s demise.

And as history will show for the rest of eternity, the Patriots came out of the locker room listless and flat, whereas the Giants were gritty and determined. They hung in and hung in, and when the Patriots finally became the Patriots, moving with ease to their second score of the night, they were able to compose themselves and rise up to the challenge of a game-winning drive.

If you really wanted to apologize for New England’s loss, you could point to a number of things. The ‘almost’ interception by Asante Samuel, the would-be sack of Eli Manning, woulda-coulda-shoulda dropped pass by David Tyree all provide New England fans with the “we should’ve won” ammunition. And maybe there is a little bit of truth to this argument. The problem is that over the past day and a half, I’ve tried to convince myself into believing this argument and guess what? I’m just not buying it.

Instead, I’ve concluded two things:

1) The Giants wanted it more.

and

2) The better team won.

Now, this may present a paradox, but I think that you could still make the argument that the 2007 New England Patriots were the greatest team of all time. No one else has ever gone 18-1 and the lone loss came at the last minute. Unfortunately, it just so happens that the lone loss was the Super Bowl. So, while they may very well be the best team ever, the fact that they came up short in their biggest game (and the loss will go down as the most historic loss ever) will put a glaring hole in their resume.

As New England’s last-ditch hopes faded, these thoughts and more began to populate my mind. I accepted some right off the bat, while denying others, but they all dawned on me. The celebration that I was so ready to bask in after months of pouring my heart and soul into cheering, promoting, defending, and writing for this team was never going to come. As crazy as this sounds, I was on the verge of a breakdown, because emotionally, I had given as much as I could to this team’s season, and they suffered a loss at the lost possible moment in the worst possible fashion.

In a way, this was worse than the Dallas Cowboys loss to the Giants. As talented as the Cowboys were and as high as the hopes I had for them were, they weren’t proven. The New England Patriots were. Bill Belichick was the genius that didn’t lose playoff games when he was the favorite. Tom Brady was the immortal quarterback who didn’t falter on the big stage. New England was the team that always, and I mean always, found a way to win. But this past Sunday, they simply…didn’t.

And I still can’t fully handle it.

I can’t handle the fact that I will spend the rest of my life “knowing” that the Patriots were the better team, even though I never will be able to really prove it.

I can’t handle the prospect of flashing back to these painful memories any time I see a replay of this dreadful game.

I can’t handle the fact that this group of men, men that I’ll never know personally, whom I had decided to put up on a pedestal, were not perfect like I thought they were.

I can’t handle the fact that Mercury Morris and the rest of the 1972 Miami Dolphins will still arrogantly be able to tout themselves as the only undefeated post-merger NFL team ever.

I can’t handle the prospect of carrying a permanent emotional scar for something as silly as a football game.

I can’t handle the idea of Tom Brady being ousted for the second straight year by a Manning.

I can’t handle the fact that I am essentially held a prisoner of a game played by people who have no idea that I exist.

I can’t handle the feeling that someone as insignificant as me jinxed the Patriots because I became a little too cocky when I posted something in my silly little blog.

This is why I hate sports.

This is why I love sports.

I’ll never fully recover from a loss like this. But gradually, the pain will seep out of my soul, eventually becoming just a tiny, unpleasant memory. And I’ll prepare for the journey all over again next fall, hoping Dallas or New England can set forth on a title run. Maybe one of these teams can go on a realistic pursuit of perfection. Both teams certainly have the talent, and ironically, though they each had successful seasons on paper, both will deserve some of the luck that is needed to complete a perfect season.

And even if perfection is just a pipe dream, a championship would certainly go a long way to ease the pain. Should New England be fortunate enough to win Super Bowl XLIII, maybe, just maybe, 18-1 can be viewed as a crowning achievement in the legacy of the greatest dynasty the league has ever seen. But alas, this is a discussion that is meant to take place at a future date, after another emotionally draining season has taken place.

And until that happens, I will just have to learn how to cope with the pain as much as I possibly can.

*Yes, I cheer for the Lakers and Cowboys, two of the most successful franchises in sports history, but keep in mind that I inherited this mantle from my father, and am a little too late in the game to really remember the Cowboys dynasty or fully appreciate the Lakers three-peat. I also root for the Cincinnati Reds, who have never really been competitive in my conscious lifetime. As for the Red Sox and Patriots, I have only garnered such affinity for them because I despise their chief rivals so much. So, I’m not quite the lucky sports fan that you probably think I am.

Random Thoughts and Super Bowl Talk

Before I get to my Super Bowl prediction, there are a few matters that I would like to rundown. They range from the obvious (Super Bowl hype, yeah!!) to the irrelevant (politics in a sports column?). Whether every single topic interests you in or not, bear with me; I just feel the need to rail a bit, as well as dole out some praise.

I would like to send a huge shout-out to Jerry Jones after hiring back former Defensive Coordinator Dave Campo. What’s that? You say he was also the head coach from 2000 to 2002? Oh, well I guess I just blocked this era’s Cowboys teams out of my mind. I wonder why? Well, let me just consult the Google…just a second…enjoy the music while you wait (instrumental version of “Party All the Time” plays in the background)…aha! Oh, shit! Now I see why this three year span has been erased from my memory. The man went 5-11 in each season he coached! And he holds the dubious distinction of being the only Dallas Cowboys coach not to take at least one team to the playoffs. Why am I still excited for the hire? Well, keep in mind that this man helped architect the stifling defense of the mid-90’s Cowboys. Maybe he isn’t head coaching material, but he is a valuable asset. And in his new position, he will focus primarily on Dallas’ porous secondary. If he can help the Cowboys in coverage downfield, the sky is the limit for the 2008 squad. In short: Campo’s back; I’m giddy.

In a completely unrelated (and totally pointless) story, I’ve decided to devote a few words into one of my sporting pet peeves. You would not believe how irritated I get when I watch NBA highlights, see the Kings play, and think “how in the hell did I completely miss a TNT game?” This is followed by the realization that “oh yeah, the imbeciles at the local Sac-town television station thought it would be appropriate to completely rip-off the TNT template for the digital scoreboard at the lower right hand of the screen.” I realize how minor this complaint is (and that this is close to falling into the “fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me” category…or as the president would say “fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, sh…you…uh…you can’t fool me!”), but still, could the station not come up with a new design? It’s not like they will ‘trick’ people into thinking it’s TNT (you’ve got to go out of your way to find it, since 99% of the country would only be able to view it if they ordered NBA League Pass), so I really don’t see the point. Am I totally off-base here?

Switching gears here: In political news, I’d like to give some props to the Democratic presidential candidate John Edwards. He recently bowed out of the proceedings, setting up what seemed to be a destined Hillary/Obama showdown. But the man was able to shine a light on certain issues (namely domestic poverty) that might have been overlooked had he not been involved. I truly thought he would rise up and take the nomination (considering the fact that he is only slightly less charming than Bill Clinton), but alas, have been proved wrong. Still, none of this takes away from the fact that he ran a noble campaign and deserves to be lauded for it.

My prediction: PSYCH! For the Republican nomination, not the Super Bowl (but it’s coming). Though it’s neck and neck right now between Mitt Romney and John McCain, my hunch is that with Giuliani also announcing his pull-out from the race, McCain will win the nomination. I still have a great deal of respect for the man (anyone who trashes a former soldier, especially considering the fact that he was a POW, deserves a smack across the face), but I have been rather disappointed in him over the past year. He fibbed about the progress of the Iraqi Surge in order to help President Bush save face, no doubt in an attempt to help garner support from Republican presidential voters in his impending campaign. Yet in doing so, he made me take away his mantle of “Only Republican I’d Consider Voting in For President.” Now, instead of being pleasantly surprised that McCain may make it to the national election, I am frightened. Because I think he has a legitimate shot to take down either Clinton or Obama. Especially given the fact that I have a hard time believing a sufficient amount of Americans will put their vote where their mouth is when it comes time to elect a woman or a black man as president. Fingers crossed, everyone.

As for who I am planning on casting my vote for, I would say the current leader is Hillary Clinton. I like Barack Obama immensely, but I feel like Hillary is the better candidate. He claims to be the candidate for change, but some of Hillary’s plans, which outshine his (pulling troops out of Iraq within 60 days of her first day in office, reversing many of the Bush policies which have given too much power to the executive branch, and ordering congress to sending back many of the bills President Bush has vetoed during his term) seem to indicate otherwise. It may very well change, especially if a stalemate at the Democratic convention brings Al Gore into the fray, but as of right now, I am “endorsing” Hillary Clinton. Why is endorsing in quotation marks? Because I’m not famous, and just a plain endorsement sans the quotations would make me look like an arrogant tool.

Now, on to the Super Bowl. I am making a point of avoiding any discussion of Tom Brady’s ankle, as even I got sick of seeing the footage of Tommy Boy limping into Gisele’s townhouse (herein known as “Tom and Gigi’s Temple of Carnal Amusement”). Plus, part of me thinks the whole thing was a ruse. I do want to cover a few issues from Super Bowl week before I actually make my prediction for the game. They are:

1) I now have a reason to pull the shotgun out of my mouth should the Patriots lose.

This little tidbit was not included into the orgy of misinformation that has been ESPN over the past week, but apparently Gisele Bundchen is so confident that her man’s team is going to capture the title, she is willing to strip naked and run through Manhattan if she is proven wrong. If I thought there was even a small glimmer of hope for Gisele to follow through on the promise, I’d book a flight for New York right now, fly out, and watch the game with mixed feelings. But the possibility of her actually holding up her end of the deal is the same as me even considering rooting for the Giants.

2) Plaxaco Burress is really confident…

As you all probably know, Plaxaco made his prediction early on during Hype Week: Giants, 23-17. Okay, it’s one thing to have confidence in your team’s chances, but considering the fact that the Patriots put up 38 points on New York in frigid conditions, I have a hard time buying into them only posting 17 in perfect weather. Plus, I’m assuming that with a proclamation like this, Plax is not familiar with the results of previous predictions by players of teams going up against the Pats: Anthony Smith was depantsed on national television as New England smacked around his Steelers 34-13 and Igor Olshansky and his Chargers were kept out of the end zone in the AFC Championship, losing 21-12. Still, maybe the big guy knows what he is doing. We will find out soon enough.

3) …as is Tom Brady.

Tom Brady was asked by the media what he thought of Plaxaco’s turn as football psychic. Much like his response to Anthony Smith (“well done is better than well said”), his answer was brief, but telling: “Seventeen points? Okay. Is Plax playing defense.” He continued by lavishing praise upon the Giants and applauding their confidence, but it was obvious that the prediction was on his mind, as his final statement scoffed at the 23-17 score once again. Brady and the Pats may be smooth and complimentary when dealing with these issues publicly, but I have no doubt in my mind that the 23-17 score will be firmly entrenched in the minds of every player and coach around 6:30 this evening.

4) Can’t Spy-gate just DIE?

As far as these claims of the Patriots taping the Rams final walkthrough before Super Bowl XXXVI go, I would like to see some form of valid evidence before we vilify New England any further. Sure, they were caught over-stepping a rules a bit in Week 1, but let’s not assume that this alleged transgression is true as well. As of right now, no one seems to have any answers. We have a lot of rumored sources making all sorts of accusations, but for the time being, there is no. Valid. Evidence. Oh, I guess we have one former Patriots employee who was fired in 2003. Gee, there is no chance that he’s just a disgruntled former worker who is hoping to take down his old employer, is there? Granted, New England opened this can of worms with the Week 1 incident, but is it not out of the realm of possibility that people view “spying” as the perfect way to fabricate a story about the Patriots? Does no one find it ironic that the sources decided to wait until the weekend of the Super Bowl to reveal this “information?” Will people concede that there are 31 jealous teams who would love to see the Patriots fall from grace right now, and they view playing up Spy-gate as the perfect way to do it? It just seems like all season long, people kept doubting the Patriots, rationalizing their continued success as a by-product of Spy-gate. Now that the team is knocking on the door of a 19-0 season, it seems like accusations of espionage would be the best way to deflect any positive attention, because a majority of the public would entertain the idea based on the Week 1 incident. Yes, the Patriots are partly to blame for this being such a major issue during Super Bowl weekend. But if these allegations are false, and we have every right to believe they are until evidence is produced to back them up, it is a shame that arguably the best team of all time will be unable to fully enjoy their historic season, providing they find a way to win the big game.

5) Senator Specter, I personally feel that congress should focus on bigger issues than any problem the NFL brings to the table.

If Spy-gate is resurrected with a vengeance, and becomes a full-blown legal issue (and thanks to ESPN, there is a great chance that this will happen) we all have Arlen Specter to blame. He is, after all, one of the many people who decided that Super Bowl weekend would be the best time to create a distraction for the NFL. Yes, Spy-gate deserves to be looked into once again if more evidence is brought forth, but whether or not this is the case, congress has no business deciding in the outcome. Much in the same way I feel about congress and steroids, I believe that our country has far, far, far too many problems in its own right for our legislative branch to pump valuable resources into figuring out whether or not an NFL team used improper video surveillance. No matter where you stand on the Spy-gate issue, I hope you can concede that this is a matter which should be dealt with internally. Besides, if you’re rooting against the Patriots, maybe you would be better off if Specter and congress weren’t involved in an investigation. After all, this is the same man who proposed the “single bullet theory,” claiming that JFK and John Connally were both hit with the same “magic” bullet, despite eye witness reports to the contrary.

***THE MAIN EVENT***

Now, without further ado, I give you my prediction for Super Bowl XLII:

I have felt very apprehensive about this game ever since its hype began (y’know, as soon as Lawrence Tynes field goal soared through the uprights). I firmly believe the Patriots are the better team, but they didn’t look quite so sharp in the AFC Title game, and the Giants appear to be peaking at just the right time.

The nervous part of me looks at the game as such:

--New England has not replicated the dominance that seemed to reach a climax in its 56 point beat-down of Buffalo.

--Tom Brady didn’t have his A-game against the Chargers.

--Randy Moss hasn’t been very explosive in the playoffs.

--Eli Manning is playing the best football of his career right now.

--The Giants have the personnel up front to give New England’s O-line fits.

--The Giants also have the running backs capable of tearing through New England’s defense.

When I take all of these things into consideration, I still think that New England can win, but I feel like it would be a nail-biter.

Even the pessimist in me would still probably make the pick of New England winning 33-30. But that isn’t my prediction. Before I locked 33-30 in, I decided to look over the positives:

--New England is coming off a bye week. The last two times this happened: regular season bye: New England puts up 56 points. Wild-card bye: Tom Brady goes 26/28 in a win over Jacksonville.

--Bill Belichick is a master of putting together a winning game plan. He also has the luxury of just playing (and winning against) the Giants a month ago—he’ll have his team ready for anything.

--The Patriots won against the Giants in Week 17 on the road, in a hostile environment, in cold weather.

--New England looked unstoppable earlier this year when they were able to play in warm weather and/or domes: the Super Bowl is being played in Glendale, Arizona.

--It’s Bill Belichick, Tom Brady, and the rest of the gang in a huge game.

--They are up against Tom Coughlin, Eli Manning, and the rest of the gang in a huge game.

--New England will be motivated by the (surprisingly high number of) people who are picking them to lose.

--New England will be even more motivated by the Plaxaco Burress prediction.

--New England will be motivated most of all by the resurgence of Spy-gate.

--New England’s off-season additions and other ring-thirsty players will be focused on playing at the highest level possible.

When I take in all of the information, I feel a little bit better. By no means should the Giants be taken lightly, after all, they did give New England a run for their money in Week 17. But in a neutral environment that is more conducive to favoring the Patriots style of play, I have a little more confidence than I usually do heading in to big games. And when you consider all the motivating factors for the Pats, their track record in big games, and their level of play this season, I feel obligated to at least give them a more favorable prediction. I mean, it isn’t like it actually has any bearing in the outcome of the actual game. So, with that in mind, here goes (and remember, you’ve gotta go big or stay home):

New England 56
New York 24

I just think that in a year where the Patriots broke so many records as a team, it would be fitting for them to set a new benchmark for points in a game. I’ll knock on wood to make sure this pick doesn’t jinx them. And I’ll also have my fingers crossed all game long in hopes of seeing this prediction come to fruition.

Gasol Trade Thoughts

One little glance at the breaking news box and my life has changed forever.

Okay, so maybe that’s a tad dramatic, but as far as my life as a sports fan goes, amazingly enough that statement is spot on. Where am I going with this? Well, as a Lakers fan over the past few years, realistic expectations for the season usually involved sneaking into the playoffs, pulling off an upset, and maybe catching a break in the seeding to get a favorable second round match-up. Andrew Bynum’s overnight emergence as a legitimate big-time center allowed me to think “hey, maybe we can compete with the elite!” But in an instant, young Bynum went down with a sprained ankle, keeping him on the sidelines for at least eight weeks. The dreams of grandeur were not completely lost, but the injury drove one resounding point home: in its current state, Los Angeles could compete for a championship if it encountered no bad luck whatsoever from here on out. In a 100+ game season (including a potential post-season run), this is impossible. Still we hope.

And we rely on Kobe to keep things afloat until Bynum returns, hopefully resulting in some noise being made in the tournament.

Not exactly the cheeriest of outlooks.

But, maybe I’m just being selfish; after all, following the Lakers from 1998-2004 was almost too good to be true. I was spoiled and now I detest facing the fact that every fan must go through some rough patches before his or her team reaches the mountaintop again. Still, I seem to have immersed myself into this motley crew crop of Lakers from 2004 to the present. Perhaps wishing that they would somehow morph themselves into the Lakers of old? Maybe making up for the fact that I took those title teams for granted? Whatever the answer may be, it still did not change the fact that despite being able to watch the person who I consider to be the greatest basketball player on the entire planet, I am enthralled with a team who is “not quite there yet,” but still seemed to have no feasible to way to vastly improve.

After another string of tough losses, with the team that stormed out of the gate primed for a fall back into mediocrity, I began asking myself one question over and over again:

“Will Kobe’s prime be wasted toiling for a team that has no realistic chance of winning a championship?”

Maybe the phrasing was different, and maybe the levels of paranoia fluctuated, but nevertheless, this question has been floating in the back of my mind for quite some time.

Yet, in an instant, one glance at the breaking news box of ESPNews changed everything:

“Pau Gasol to the Lakers”

Nothing can quite compare to the euphoric feeling that consumes you when your favorite team pulls off a major upset, wins at the last second, or makes a team-altering move. It’s as if the feeling of winning a championship is condensed into a five second interval, dissipating as the reality sets in that no matter how thrilling the event was, it holds no bearing as to what will come when the games matter most. But the optimist inside of you still thinks that maybe, just maybe, that feeling of ecstasy was a prelude of larger things to come.

I felt the temporary high for Pau Gasol and a small portion of me also looks optimistically to the future. Sure, there are many issues and questions raised from the trade:

Will it affect the team chemistry?

You know that he hasn’t even suited up to play yet, right?

How will he mesh on the court with Kobe?

Will he be quick at grasping the Triangle Offense?

Can he be used effectively when playing with another seven footer?

These are all valid concerns to have, but for right now, it doesn’t matter—not one bit. For, you see, I woke up today hoping that the Lakers are legitimate title contenders. I’ll wake up tomorrow knowing that the Lakers are legitimate title contenders. Should you pencil them in for a June showdown? Of course not. But should you now clump them with the teams that should begin focusing on a realistic title run? Absolutely. You could even make the case that once Andrew Bynum comes back, assuming that he plays at his pre-injury level, the Lakers have the best starting lineup in the game:

G Derek Fisher
G Kobe Bryant
F Lamar Odom
F Pau Gasol
C Andrew Bynum

They should play pretty damn tough, even if they aren’t the league’s number one starting five. The problem, in the meantime at least, is how to integrate Gasol without Bynum’s presence. I’ve been going over potential scenarios in my head since I heard the news and I’ve come up with a couple of possibilities. The first:

G Derek Fisher
G Kobe Bryant
F Luke Walton
F Lamar Odom
C Pau Gasol

The big pro for putting this squad on the floor would be to make sure that the Lakers can keep a fresh rotation of big men. The last thing they need is a late-game breakdown of interior defense because they have no one to turn to off the bench. Ronny Turiaff is at best a wild card who has surprising range and loads of tenacity on the boards…at worst, he is an energetic sparkplug who makes bonehead plays, but still gets his teammates fired up. It would be nice to have Turiaff come off the bench, especially since Chris Mihm continues to nurse the ankle sprain he suffered back in the Summer of ’73 and Kwame Brown was packaged in the Gasol deal*.

The con for having Gasol starting at center: he needs all the time he can get to understand the complexities and nuances of the Triangle Offense. If he can start right away at the power forward position, the spot that he will man come playoff time, he will be more effective as the season wears on. If he must get acquainted with one position, and then switch gears as soon as Bynum returns, things might get a tad chippy.

Which brings me to the next possible lineup:

G Derek Fisher
G Kobe Bryant
F Luke Walton
F Pau Gasol
C Ronny Turiaff

Ever since he came from Miami, many experts believed that Lamar Odom could be the Scottie Pippen to Kobe’s Michael Jordan—he is that versatile. While he has never seemed to fully reach his potential, it seems like this fifteen game stretch without Bynum could be the most crucial part of Odom’s tenure with the Lakers. I understand the gravity of that statement, yet still stand by it. On any given possession, Lamar is able to range from a point guard to a center. Why not have him come off the bench in relief of either Walton, Gasol, or Turiaff? His unusual blend of height, length, and speed will allow him to thrive at any spot. He could use these talents to space his minutes across multiple positions, limiting wear and tear on his teammates, and preventing a lapse of quality basketball underneath when the second unit comes in.

This particular lineup might get snuffed out in the playoffs, but it allows Gasol to get acquainted to his position in the Triangle while Bynum is out with injury. Then, and this is where the hope that gets an optimistic sports fan through the day kicks in, Bynum can return and the Lakers will field a twin tower effect with the two seven footers, a clutch, seasoned point guard, and this decade’s answer to MJ and Pippen. With this starting lineup on the floor, and a bench that houses Turiaff, Jordan Farmar, Sasha Vujacic, Vladimir Radmanovic, Luke Walton, among others, maybe, just maybe, the Lakers can make a memorable run at the title in June.

Amazingly enough, all of these thoughts penetrated my mind within seconds of the life-altering “Gasol to Lakers” message. Irrational? It’s possible. But the fact of the matter is that without Gasol, and with Bynum healthy, the Lakers are that team in the Western Conference who no one wants to go up against. What does that make them with Gasol? Like it or not, you would have to say “title contenders.” Not favorites, not also-rans, but contenders.

And compared to the outlook that I had yesterday, this is an unspeakably thrilling turn-of-events.

*Although the headlines will say “Gasol for Kwame Brown’s Tantalizing Expiring Contract,” there is quite a bit more under the surface. To get you up to speed, the specifics of the trade are as follows:

Lakers Get:
F/C Pau Gasol
2008 2nd Round Draft Pick

Grizzlies Get:
F/C Kwame Brown
G Javaris Crittendon
C Marc Gasol (Pau’s brother, kind of ironic, huh? Also ironic? This trade reminds me of a Jerry West move from the nineties when he was the Lakers GM; the only other team he has ties to outside of L.A.: the Grizzlies.)
G/F Aaron McKie
2008 1st Round Draft Pick
2010 1st Round Draft Pick

The picks don’t necessarily bother me too much, because let’s face it. Once you move out of the top five-ten range, the draft turns into a crap shoot.