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PODCAST EPISODE NO. 3

Jimi I imagine musicians get a complex when they are about togo into the studio and hear a recording of Jimi Hendrix. Jimi, as we all learned in school, was a force of nature. He was like Mother Theresa and Genghis Khan all rolled into one when he held a guitar in his hands. How can anyone measure up to that, the musicians must think. Jimi was playing hard ball and everyone else is just trying to bat it off a tee.

That’s the way it is for us sentence writers when Bob Ford and Mike Sielski walk into the room. Oh sure, it might sound like I’m blowing smoke, and you know what… I kind of am. But whether they know it or not, those guys know how to work a room and when they say things people have no other people have no choice to but to take the words to heart.

So when Bob told me, “You’re awful,” well, I just couldn’t write it off. After all, I have never known Bob to be wrong. Ever. The fact is, he is smarter than almost every person you know. The same goes for Mike, too. If he isn’t right about something, he can explain why better than anyone out there.

But Bob is a good sport. He came into our little show, drank his beverage, ate his ham sandwich and participated in a lively discussion about everything. He even taught us about physics and the international dateline. The same goes for Sielski, too. The guy is an author of a book. Better yet, Mike wrote a real book like a real author and not some nonsense about lists of perceived greatness according to some guy and his faulty memories. Who wants to read that? Moreover, who wants to chop down trees to print those pages?

Put it this way: Mike has contributed to our culture and our collective discourse. Mike has a legacy.

And with that, the gang got together for the third episode of our little dog-and-pony show with two heavyweights. Once again we talked about the Olympics and hockey as well as Allen Iverson and the idea of exclusivity and media semantics.

Bob told a story about his days from hanging around with Charles Barkley and Mike just said a bunch of smart things.

Oh yeah, Dennis Deitch was back and offered a life tip, while Dan Roche stuck around long enough to offer some well-reasoned points about the local basketball team. But guess what… Ol’ Dan bought a house last weekend, too. Real estate bubble my ass…

Meanwhile, Sarah Baicker and I just tried to keep up with all the wizened souls we brought into our lair.

Here take a listen:

 

PODCAST NO. 3

Also, keep sending in those comments and whatever else. Check out the page we have on Facebook, too. You’ll be glad you did.

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Slip sliding away

Jim_mckay So far my favorite part about the Olympics is when the curling people slide on the ice with those crazy shoes they wear. They aren’t skates and aren’t really athletic shoes, either. Yet somehow the curlers (really? Are they “curlers”) get around with some sort of funky propelation. It’s like they have some sort of modified bowling shoe or something.

Not to denigrate the curling competition or the Winter Olympics as a collective, but I really don’t get it. OK, maybe I get it, but just don’t see the allure. There that’s better. There are millions of people tuning in every day to watch the events, which is baffling. Who watches taped/staged events and what is the appeal of curling?

Look, I like to watch track & field events and marathon racing, so I’m hardly innocent here. But to me curling looks like shuffleboard with ice and lots of cheating. If I were interested in such a thing, I could just go to the Sunny Valley Retirement Village and watch the residents go at it in those cutthroat tournaments they have on the pitch next to the clubhouse. Word is the shuffleboard scene at Sunny Valley was like the fights Michael Vick used to hold in his blacked out garage in Virginia.

Only bloodier.

OK, kidding aside the thing that stands out most about these Olympics is that they seem to be lasting forever. Flip through the dial and one can catch glimpses of someone slippy sliding away on the curling, or back-flipping high above the mix way up in the air, or, maybe even playing hockey. It’s kind of fun to stumble on these things rather than the standard fare offered during the course of a broadcasting day. Besides, who wouldn’t rather watch the overwrought drama of a curling match than the hang-wringing (faux) indignation from Olbermann on MSNBC.

I know we have a list of things that have jumped the proverbial shark—like Wing Bowl, for instance—so it’s only fair to put guys like Olbermann and his ilk (on both sides) on the list, too. Poor Keith is only being mentioned here because his show has been bumped around in order to broadcast curling.

Anyway, that’s about all we have there… the Olympics are on and it seems like they have been lasting forever. The thing is, I’m kind of comfortable with that. It makes me think about Jim McKay.

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Catch a Tiger...

Lindsey_vonn I haven’t written much about the Tiger Woods pressconference from last Friday mostly for the same reason why I don’t write much about pro wrestling. Hey, it’s tough to take something that looks so fake too seriously.

We’re just keepin’ it real![1]

Nevertheless, the Tiger Woods presser seemed to be made for Twitter in a Mystery Science 3000 kind of way. Man… how did we get through some of these things before Twitter?

Another aside: I glean all I need to know about a person’s personality from their Twitter updates. Some of you need help and/or a transfusion of sorts. I know all about the kettle and the pot (yadda, yadda, yadda), but I mean, really…

Anyway, the best story in the wake of the Tiger-ness was in Time magazine in a piece about Olympic skier Lindsey Vonn. It is because of this story (when coupled with the work in a recent SI issue) that Vonn jumped up a few notches in the “Unofficial Finger Food list of cool athletes.” [2]Who knew she had such a wicked sense of humor?

Granted, I haven’t seen much of the Olympics outside of the hockey game on Sunday night and the Johnny Weir skating travesty from last week (he wuz robbed!), but the only things I knew about Vonn is that she skies, she’s tall, she’s been pictured in several magazines wearing outfits not appropriate for skiing, and she won a gold medal despite an injury. That’s it.

Who knew Vonn was so funny? Why wouldn’t NBC do one of its dramatic features on Vonn standing in front of a brick wall and a couple of ferns while killing it during a 20-minute set at the Ha-Ha Hole? And if she’s not doing standup, why isn’t she?

These are important issues.

Anyway, the part in the Time story that was grabbing was when Vonn did a press conference in Vancouver shortly after Tiger had finished with his manufactured mea culpa last Friday.

Check it out:

And like millions of Americans, Vonn can't help poking fun at Woods' staged event. When a member of her Vonn-tourage tells her that Woods gave a few friends hugs after ending his statement, she cracks, “They're like, ‘Yeah, you're awesome, you go have that sex.’” The room breaks into a laugh. Then she describes a skit she would want to perform if asked to host Saturday Night Live: picture Vonn at Woods’ podium, blue backdrop and all. “There's something you don't know about me,” Vonn says in a faux solemn, apologetic voice. “Tiger, you're like my idol, and I too have a sex problem.” More laughter. “That would be freaking funny.”

What does she mean by “would be?” It is freaking funny!

Hey, if we can’t make fun of celebrities on Twitter, what else do mopes like us have? But to hear that an Olympic gold medalist would probably be right in the middle of it with us, well, that’s your Olympic spirit right there.

Lindsey Vonn: Olympian. In more ways than one.


[1] Do people still say that? Really? Probably not.

[2] Not an actual list but I’m sure it will be developed at some point. After all, if something isn’t fun/funny, I have a hard time taking it seriously. Is that a contradiction or an oxymoron? I think it is, but I’m standing by it.

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It was 30 years ago today...

Miracle We do hyperbole very well in sports. In fact, I’ll wager we do overwrought drama and gross overstatement better than Hollywood. Thinkabout it—where else do folks immediately attempt to place an event in some sort of historical context the second it ends?

Something always seems to be the best this or the worst that and it’s kind of weird. Who thinks that way? What are they trying to accomplish or validate? Hey, no one wants to be told they are wasting their time so maybe this is a way of pumping up our own choices or something.

Either way, sometimes we actually do get things right. Oh sure, we’ll miss the nuance of something and place too much importance on the less worthy, but then to go the other way, we point this out in overrated/underrated debates.

Oh yes, everything gets covered.

Here’s what is properly placed where it belongs:

The Miracle on Ice.

Yes, the consensus held top sports moment of the 20th Century (in the U.S., of course), is neither overrated nor underrated, which is rare. How many other events/players/games can make this claim? How many sporting events actually transcend sports? Thirty years ago today in Lake Placid, we had one of those events that was so perfect no one bothers to question its place in sports history.

Here’s what interesting about the U.S. hockey team’s victory over the mighty Soviet juggernaut from Feb. 22, 1980—it meant something bigger than itself yet did not pump hockey into the American consciousness. American sports fans were no more interested in hockey after the game than they were before. I could be wrong here, but in the 30 years since The Miracle on Ice, hockey might even be less popular in terms of American sports interest. As far as American sports leagues go, the NHL might be fifth or sixth in overall popularity and that depends on whether big-time college sports is considered professional or not.

In other words, the game changed nothing and was simply a context-free game. Sure, people will say it was a manifestation of the Cold War played out as some sort of microcosm and all of that, but wasn’t that what Berlin was?

Here’s what else is cool about that one hockey game that didn’t even win the U.S. a gold medal (that came two days later against Finland): all the guys from the team are still around and are completely bearable. Yeah, Herb Brooks died in a car accident a few years back, but his legacy is still as bright as ever. Plus, invariably we grow tired and/or leery of people overexposed by the media. However, in this case that isn’t so. Every time the Winter Olympics roll around we get to hear from Mike Eruzione, Jim Craig and Mark Johnson, maybe even Dave Silk or Jack O’Callahan will come out, too. Yet for some reason it’s always interesting even though we’ve seen the movies and documentaries, read the books and the magazine articles.

An aside: If I recall correctly (hey, I was in the 3rd grade when it happened), the first time I heard those now ubiquitous "U-S-A!" chants was during the hockey competition of the 1980 Olympics. If anyone has an earlier instance of this occurring, by all means, correct me.

It was just one of those things. Chalk it up to being a cultural phenomenon or the sports equivalent to The Beatles going on the Ed Sullivan Show. When it happened people knew it was something pretty special and decades later that hasn’t changed much.

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Now you see them...

Kobe_olympics A couple of my favorite Olympic moments are a few thatmost folks didn’t see. For instance, in 1996 I stayed up to watch the finals of the men’s 5,000, which was shown live in Atlanta but long after prime time. Then again, that’s how it is for track and distance-running fans—we’ll take scraps and we’ll like it.

What was so notable about this particular race was that American Bob Kennedy boldly dashed out from the pack running ever-so tactically to take the lead in the race at the backstretch of the final lap. It was an insane move by Kennedy not because he would quickly be swallowed up and passed by the superior African runners, but because of the big ones it took for him to go out there like that.

I can remember watching the race in the middle of the night and yelling at the top of my lungs when Kennedy burst into the lead. Actually, it was more like a girlish shriek and as soon as it sounded out it was over because Kennedy’s surge was actually a wake-up alarm to the rest of the field. But for a slight flicker of time, Bob Kennedy, the U.S. record holder in the 5,000-meters, was the baddest runner on the planet.

Second to that was the gold medal basketball game between the U.S. and Spain during the Beijing Olympics of 2008. If I recall correctly, the game was one of the few that was shown in real time from China, which meant it started at 1 a.m. in Pennsylvania. Since the U.S. was heavily favored, my plan was to watch the first half or until the game was safely put out of reach and then I would go off to bed. But that plan hit a snag when the game turned out to be just too darned entertaining.

So instead of sleeping I was wide awake and riveted by how the Spanish team countered every run and stand by the U.S. team. Then I found myself doing something I never thought I’d do…

I cheered for Kobe Bryant.

I couldn’t believe it either and I immediately picked up on the hypocrisy of it all. If this were an NBA game on any other night of the year, I would reflexively root against Kobe. Who wouldn’t? He said all those mean things about Philadelphia, rooted for the Mets as a kid and the Dodgers against the Phillies, and pretty much is the most arrogant and biggest jackass in sports. Plus, as rightly described by Bill Simmons, Kobe was like the wolf from the movie Teen Wolf, who took all the shots and made teammates feel worthless. Truth is, one of the times I was most proud of the Philadelphia sports fans was when they booed Kobe as he hoisted the MVP trophy from the 2002 All-Star Game at the Wachovia Center.

Yet there I was at 3 a.m. rooting for Dwyane Wade to get the ball to Kobe in a spot where he could score for the red, white and blue all while wondering why someone didn’t pick up Spain’s guard Ricky Rubio and heave him into a trash can on the concourse.

Make no mistake—it was a blast. As a sports and Olympics fan, part of the fun of it is waiting all day for the game/meet/match and adjusting your life accordingly. If a game comes on at 1 a.m., well, by golly, I’m going to be ready. That’s what sports fans do.

They want to see what happens as it happens.

It seems like a pretty basic concept, right? Broadcast the game when it’s scheduled. Simple. Uncomplicated. Who among us doesn’t secretly enjoy those summertime west coast swings where part of the allure is fighting sleep in order to make it through the middle innings?

For some reason the Olympics are no longer for sports fans. This is nothing new, though. In fact, I’ve been beating this drum for as long as this web site has been alive and I’m pretty tired of it.

If a network wants to stage an Olympics, stop being so damned insulting to the sports fans. Please.

Yes, I know. It’s not about sports fans during the Olympics… at least not in recent history. The truth is NBC must feel like sports—even Olympic competition—was not enough. Real drama is pushed aside while the events that are shown are more fake than the fireplace raging behind Bob Costas. Worse, they chopped up the recordings of the events, edited out the nuance and details, and presented them as it would an episode of “Friends.”

Look at how a compelling day of competition on Sunday was presented. Instead of showing more of the Bode Miller redemption Olympics live when it happened, NBC taped it, packaged it up and sprinkled it neatly between lulls in the ice dancing competition during its prime time run. As a result of that, the HUGE hockey game between the U.S. and Canada, one that was a trending topic on Twitter hours after it had ended, was pushed to MSNBC. Never mind that a lot of people don’t get MSNBC or that it isn’t in High Def in a lot of markets, the biggest hockey game of the year was shoved off as if it were curling match.

According to a story on Yahoo!, NBC says it bumped hockey because of American women. Yep, women apparently live life with their heads buried in the ground and want to watch ice dancing and other snowy events that already happened hours prior instead of real-life drama. Oh sure, they say that

But the NHL shut down its season for the Olympics, which means it closed up shop for two weeks specifically for NBC. There are a lot of dark buildings on a lot of nights over the next two weeks all over North America because the players wanted the best athletes in the sport to show off at the Olympics. So rather than promote the game by putting the biggest game of the year on live where most people could see it, while chastising news organizations for reporting things that already happened.

Oh yes, this Internet thing just might get popular one day.

Look, I’m not so naïve that I don’t understand why things are they way they are. I get it. If they could turn a profit by putting color bars on TV all day, they’d do it. Quality and merit don’t really matter these days.[1] But that’s just mean. People work hard all day, they pay taxes on top of taxes. They have mortgages and debt and not enough time to enjoy a day free from stress. So rather than treat the folks (who don’t have the time to investigate the truth, etc.) to something good, they get pre-processed scraps.

Not cool.

Hey, we’re sports fans and (in best Jim McKay voice) want the unparalleled human drama that is only captured in the Olympics. Once every four years athletes have a chance to capture immortality. Just think if the World Series or the Super Bowl happened once every four years and then they messed with it because it didn’t look like a dumb episode of a banal “reality” show.

Worse, they can pretend like things didn’t happen like in 2008 in Beijing. When the rest of the world was fawning over Usain Bolt as the true hero of the games and yawning over swimming, NBC went so far to black it out… Chinese democracy style.

Usain_bolt Actually, NBC chose to ignore most events in 2008 because they did not fit into its broadcast plan devised way back when Beijing was awarded the games in 2001. According to a story in The New York Times, NBC and IOC chairman, Jacques Rogge, worked together to finagle the schedule of swimming events so that they could be aired during prime time in the United States. But before doing so, Dick Ebersol, the president of NBC sports, had to run the plan the network and IOC past one person:

Swimmer Michael Phelps.

When was the last time the commissioner of baseball asked a player what time he wanted the games to start? How about the president of ESPN or Fox checking with Jimmy Rollins to see what time would be best to put the game on TV?

Answer: never.

So when Usain Bolt sprinted onto the scene and suddenly, like lightning, became the face of the Olympics—the unadultered, non-sponsored International star—well, NBC wasn't having that. To NBC, Usain Bolt did not turn in the most otherworldly performances in Olympic history. He was a party crasher. Didn't he get the memo that Michael Phelps was the star?

To knock him down a peg, NBC lapdog Jacques Rogge claimed Bolt's celebrations were unsportsmanlike (Sally Jenkins of The Washington Post nailed it). Costas waded into the fray, too, echoing the IOC boss' complaints. However, when Phelps pounded his chest, flexed, screamed and posed (nearly completely naked) after several of his victories, they said nothing. Actually, Bob and the gang fawned all over their White Knight and wanted you to do the same.

Please ignore that man running faster than anyone else in history of the world. That has nothing to do with us. Y’know, almost like hockey this time around.

There could be hope looming, though. NBC’s contract to televise the Olympics ends after the 2012 games in London and ESPN is rumored to want to buy in. Of course this is all speculation at this point, though it was worth noting that a quote in a story from a person in the know the sports network indicated that ESPN would produce the Olympic broadcast like it was a sporting event.

That’s nice.


[1] See Conan O’Brien and Jay Leno.

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Hear him roar

Tiger The plan was to write something about how the Sixers willlikely finish out the season with the players they have. With the trade deadline inching ever closer and the last playoff in the East looking more difficult to catch with each passing game, it’s nearly time to pull the plug on the pro basketball season in Philadelphia.

That’s a shame, too. It would be neat to see the Sixers sneak into the playoffs and go up against LeBron James and the Cleveland Cavaliers in the first round. Oh sure, they’ll lose, but that’s beside the point. The 2009-10 season could be one of the last great NBA seasons for a while with the collective bargaining agreement about to expire and the threat of a lockout looming. If the NBA is going away from a while, it could be with LeBron, Shaq and Kobe in the Finals and the Western Conference race as tight as ever.

Things are pretty good for the NBA on the court. Off the court? Not so much.

A backup plan was to write something about the Winter Olympics and the most successful day for the U.S.A. in the winter games, ever. On Wednesday, Shani Davis, Shaun White and Lindsey Vonn won gold and Julia Mancuso took a silver. That’s four medals in one day, including one where some dude can wear snow pants that look like denim.

You can’t wear jeans to the Olympics… c’mon!

Maybe we can wait a day to write about the Olympics after Johnny Weir skates. Yeah, that’s the plan. I saw where someone wrote that Johnny Weir is the best Sasha Baron Cohen character. That sounds about right. Actually, the Lancaster County native is so over the top that it seems as if he is parodying figure skating. If that’s his intent, he’s hilarious. And if it’s not, well, that’s hilarious, too.

But when word came out that Tiger Woods is going to show in face in public on Friday at a “press conference,” for the first time since he drove his car into a fire hydrant and then took a nap on his front lawn, all bets were off. See, we’ve only heard about Tiger and his various exploits in the time since he had that little accident.

Y’know, it made all the papers.

Here’s the interesting caveat about it, though… Tiger is going to hold his press conference only he will not be taking any questions. In other words, he’s going to stand in front of a bunch of cameras and folks with recorders and note pads and sermonize. He’s going to deliver a speech because it sure as shoot ain’t going to be a press conference. See, a “conference” implies that there will be a give and take. In a press conference, ideas are exchanged, questions proffered and answers—sometimes—attempted.

If a guy is going to just stand there and pontificate, what’s the point of calling everyone in?

Maybe that’s the problem? Maybe the fact that if Tiger Woods wants to talk (and only on his terms) everyone will go running to wherever he wants them just to be talked at. The arrogance of that guy, huh?

Then again, we already knew about Tiger’s arrogance—that is if the stories and reports are to be believed. Plus, three months after the event occurred and now the guy is ready to talk? He already gave the police the stiff-arm and then drove up traffic to his web site by posting ambiguous mea culpas. Now what does he want to say that he couldn’t say before? What’s in it for him?

Oh, I get it now… he wants to play in the Masters and has to do his penance first.

Sheesh, the dude hasn’t even said a word yet and I already want him to shut up.

It will be fun to listen in though. What else do people do on a Friday at 11 a.m. aside from work? Watch guys in faux jeans or faux fur compete in the Olympics? Actually, come to think of it, that might be the way to go.

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Sport or a double-dare?

Danica There’s something oddly fascinating about the sportstaking center stage on Sunday’s Valentine’s Day. We call them odd because the only way the regular dude can participate in them is if they are on vacation, live on the Arctic Circle, are acting on a dare, or are being chased by the cops.

So yeah, the Daytona 500 is on the same time as some wacky event at the Winter Olympics that involves cross-country skis, man-made snow, bales of hay and high-powered rifles. They call it the biathlon and its participants biathletes. This came on after guys slapped on long skis, whipped down a hill as fast as possible before jumping off a ramp that launched them high into the air. Whoever landed that farthest away without impaling themselves on the skis, the ramp or a spectator, wins.

My question is: When did the Winter Olympics turn into a snow-day early dismissal from fifth grade? We did that kind of stuff all the time (without the guns, of course—we used ice balls with rocks packed inside) only we weren’t smart enough to give out medals. Our award was street cred to the kid who was daring enough to pull off the stunt without breaking a bone or tearing some ligaments.

It wasn’t out of the question that someone would get hurt, either. After all, our Winter Olympics always took place in the Hamilton Watch parking lot where all the snow was plowed into a massive 12-foot mountain. From there we could jump, sled, ski, build forts that were more like condos or ant colonies through the hulking mound, all while fending off kids from the adjacent neighborhood with snowballs packed with rocks.

Just wake me when Dick Buttons, Johnny Weir and the hockey starts. Nothing like that Olympic hockey—it’s so much better than other types of hockey. Especially the type that can stop in the middle of the season for two weeks and no one bats an eye.

Clearly the biggest day-time sporting event (providing a big hors d'œuvre for the NBA All-Star Game), was the car race in Florida. In fact, the Daytona 500 is more than just the Super Bowl of car racing, it’s also where Sarah Palin turned up to shake hands (they were clean) and not talk politics, which she did by talking politics. Yes, sometimes no style is actually style.

Now racing of any kind is riveting to me. It could be a couple of mice trying to negotiate a maze and I’ll tune in just to see how quickly those little guys can maneuver around the corners. Granted, car racing is a little difficult to follow and I can’t imagine what real, live spectating at a car race is like. Sure, it looks like it could be the sports spectator version of water boarding, but folks who have been there say it’s quite the assault on the senses.

First, there are the cars. Sure, they buzz past pretty quickly and are pretty difficult to see lapping around the track at nearly 200-mph, but the noise is pretty intense (so I’m told). That is if you can even hear it since most folks wear headphones in order to listen to the crews communicate with the driver.

That’s what you have at a NASCAR race—guys with headphones to drown out the noise of the speeding cars and binoculars glued to their eyes in order to see various women out on the infield flashing the cars.

It’s a helluva thing.

The most entertaining part about watching a NASCAR event on TV is the interviews with the drivers because even the most humble, laidback guy talks trash on someone. It actually has a WWE quality to it without the shouting, steroids or Mean Gene Okerlund. Instead, after the race there is a rapid-fire TV interview segment where the drivers talk about their race which is always compounded by what a jackass some other guys is. And as soon as the jackass in question is called out, the camera swings directly to that dude who then talks about his race and which guy he attempting to turn into a fiery call of steel and rubber. Then they go to that guy and the process continues until every driver has been insulted.

After Sunday’s race in which Jamie McMurray dodged a mess of wrecks and potholes to beat Dale Earnhardt Jr., the racers spent most of the post-game interviews trash talking themselves. The winner cried and the also-rans talked about how they sucked. It was kind of like on the Chris Farley Show when he realizes he’s badgering his guests with really inane questions.

Stupid! I took my foot off the gas. So stupid!

Then the winner started crying in the middle of an interview in which he gave thoughtful and engaged answers. But it wasn’t just the winner who did that, either. They all did it. It was like everyone in the sport is like Charles Barkley without the bar fights or hangouts with Urkle.

It’s awesome.

Imagine if they did that in baseball, basketball or football… you know, the sports where the majority of athletes try to be as politically correct and boring as possible. How fun would it be to hear Chase Utley unload on John Lannan after the Nats’ pitcher broke his hand with a pitch? Remember how Pete Rose trash-talked Gene Garber after the pitcher ended his hitting streak in 1978? That type of behavior is exactly what baseball needs.

Strangely, there weren’t too many cracks about Danica Patrick, the world’s most famous female race-car driver, who got caught up in a wreck in her NASCAR debut on Saturday. It’s strange because the wise cracks really just write themselves.

“Was she putting on her lipstick with the rear-view mirror before the crash?”

“She wasn’t texting her friends, was she?”

Hey, Danica really wants to be taken seriously about her driving skills... maybe that's why she keeps taking off her clothes for photo shoots.

There was none of that “woman driver” stuff at all from all those good ol’ boys. Hey, they’re enlightened these days. They cry when they win.

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Cabin fever or 'All work and no play...'

Si We’re all pretty much sick of the snow and of winter ingeneral right about now. Call it cabin fever or just the doldrums of February and it’s easy to understand why a lot of folks are just beat. Tired, sick and beat.

When we finally come up for air after this weekend it will be a six-day weekend for the kids. In the meantime, the little jackals will continue to mercilessly pummel me with half-assed little kid snowballs before waiting until my back is turned before attacking with some arcane martial arts punch and/or kick.

Someone (for the love of God!) open up the schools! My body is officially a giant wound.

Hopefully, there will be nothing to dig or defend against this weekend so some of us can recoup from a week of beatings given out by Mother Nature and my offspring[1]. In the meantime, there’s plenty to keep an eye on this weekend and strangely, none of it has anything to do with the pro teams from Philadelphia.

Oh sure, spring training opens next week, but that’s largely ceremonial to begin with since nearly every player has a.) been working out at the training facility already, or b.) been working out on their own with their trainer/guru/wife/teammates. But then again, baseball is pretty much all ceremonial. There’s all that whiny, metaphoric Opening Day stuff that should make anyone with any association with baseball want to stuff their head in an oven. At least were at a point in the game’s history where we can laugh at the rituals, traditions and rituals. With the drugs, bad behavior and institutional racism that dot the game’s long history, a little ceremonial pining for dates on a calendar isn’t all that bad.

Speaking of ceremonies, apparently the winter Olympics begins in a couple of hours or something—it’s tough to tell. Since all the snow earmarked for the folks in Vancouver has been transplanted on top of us, sane people are winter-ed out. Besides, what are these events? The luge? I did that when I woke up with a head cold and wanted to clear my nasal passages. Ski jumping and free-style moguls? Whatever… I did moves better than those the first time I ever put skis on my feet. No, I didn't try to make those moves, but that's just a technicality.

Big deal, right? Apparently the winter Olympics are a big enough deal to shut down the NHL for two weeks right in the middle of the season. Can you imagine that? The season was motoring on as its wont to do in February and then all of a sudden the players leave and join different teams for two weeks… and nobody cares! Remember the last time the NHL took a break for the whole season back in 2004-05? Remember? They called it a “lockout” or something?

No, I don’t remember it, either.

Nothing against the winter Olympics, but I doubt I’m going to watch. In fact, the only way I’ll watch is if I slip on some ice, luge down the hill in front of the house and end up in traction in the hospital. If that happens (and only if that happens) and I can’t reach the remote (because I’m in traction and my wife LOVES the pagaentry and the costumes of the ice skating), maybe I’ll watch. Hopefully that Johnny Weir will be skating, too. I like that dude because he fits into a the long line of flamboyant, trash-talking athletes like Reggie Jackson, Larry Bird, Terrell Owens, Michael Jordan and Dick Buttons.[2] Johnny Weir is also from the southern end of Lancaster County, which is a part of the country that put the “thump” into “bible thumping.”

It is both perfectly logical and incredibly insane that Johnny Weir is from Lancaster County, Pa. Please don’t ask for an explanation. If you know, it makes sense.

Speaking of trash-talking flamboyance, the NBA All-Star weekend takes place on Saturday where they will dunk, shoot and then play the All-Star Game in a football stadium in Dallas. According to reports, they are expecting 92,000 people to show up, which commissioner David Stern says will be the largest crowd to see a basketball game “in the history of the world.” However, Allen Iverson will not be amongst the attendees at the All-Star Game even though he was voted in by the fans as a starter. No, we’re not going to get into the pros and cons of fan All-Star voting and/or Iverson’s unworthiness to participate in the weekend’s events designed to celebrate the majesty and the egos of the best players on the planet. The truth is the NBA has the best All-Star Game going simply because they don’t do that whole bit where every-team-must-be-represented schtick that baseball does. Who wants to see the best player from a bad team?

No, making it to the All-Star Game in the NBA is significant. It carries some weight because only 12 guys get to go. In last summer’s baseball All-Star Game, Zach Duke was selected to be in the game. Oh sure, 2009 was his best season because he went 11-16 with an ERA below 5, but in the NBA an MVP candidate (Brandon Jennings, a stretch, but hey… he’s a candidate) is relegated to the rookie game.

Nevertheless, the concept of the All-Star Games and putting sledding on TV and calling it the Olympics is pretty old fashioned. You know, old fashioned like the mail delivery that led to the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue to be shoved through my door.

Johnny_weir Look, even a beat-up and tired dude like me knows old-fashioned when he sees it and this time it was shoved through the mail slot in my door. So when I walked over to pick up the pile of magazines and junk mail on the ground, I saw Brooklyn Decker staring coquettishly from behind a bank statement. But rather than going for the rather flimsy-feeling magazine, I went for the bank statement. After all, in this age the fact that the bank is actually telling me I have money is the biggest turn-on.

Brooklyn Decker?

Yawn...

Look, as one of those so-called red-blooded Americans, I like half-naked women as much as the next person. Think about it... what else Americans really do well any more. There's all-you-can-eat buffets; whining about the weather; spiraling, out-of-control credit debt; and scantily clad men and women. That's us.

U-S-A! U-S-A!

But c'mon, the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue? In 2010? Really?

Poor Brooklyn. She looks so hip, young and fresh on the cover of a magazine sold to a demographic filthy with men in their 40s. Is there anything less hip than that? Worse, in the age where we can see anything at any time with our onDemand and high-speed Internet connections, what's the point of the swimsuit issue? Is it for the exotic settings or top-level photography? The product placement for bathing suits that only 12 people in the world can squeeze in to?

Whatever it is, the formula doesn't seem to work anymore. Call it an anachronism to a different era when things like swimsuit models weren't ubiquitous. Back in its heyday, the swimsuit issue really cornered the market for such things. There was no Maxim or any other so-called men's lifestyle magazines littering the newsstands the way they do now. Actually, in the halcyon days of SI's swimsuit issue, it was all or nothing. If a guy wanted to see that sort of thing he had to go to the back corner of a drug store and reach to the highest shelf where they kept the Playboy and Penthouse wrapped in a brown paper bag (or at least that’s what I’m told).

Yes, the good old days. Sigh!

Yet here we are in the digital age and Sports Illustrated is sticking to its guns. Just like it does every year, the magazine offers up freakishly air-brushed and pushed up women dressed in impractical swim wear. Or, barring that, body paint.

Yep, been there, done that.

Maybe Sports Illustrated already knows its swimsuit issue is tired, yet keeps trotting it out there (and giving it away for free on its web site) because it can. Think about it, are there any other companies whose egos are so out of control [3]that they can fly staffs of people to remote points on the globe in order to take pictures of women next to nothing? When times were flush it was no big deal, but in this economic climate? Really? These days when folks are losing jobs and their homes, sweet, little, hipless Brooklyn strutting around in the Maldives in her fancy britches might be a little excessive.

Can't they just blue screen or Photoshop in the beach? Hell, they airbrush out everything else, right?

Can they brush out all the snow while they're at it?


[1] Am I allowed to lock them in the garage until the snow melts or school is back in session (whichever comes first)? Is that wrong?

[2] Is there a more perfect name for a champion ice skater than Dick Buttons? Silly question… the answer is no.

[3] You know, besides Bank of America, Bank of New York Mellon, Citigroup, JPMorgan Chase & Co., Merrill Lynch & Co., Morgan Stanley, State Street Corporation, Wells Fargo & Company, and Goldman Sachs

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