...someone else is. This cracked me up for obvious reasons. Comes from a recent chat with DJ Gallo, ESPN's other writer worth reading. (For those who don't know, this question comes from the fact that UConn just hammered the bejeezus out of Louisville in the Women's NCAA title game. But the question isn't the funny part. The answer is).
"J.B. (Dunmore, PA): Better matchup: UConn women's basketball v Louisville women's basketball or Harlem Globetrotters v Washington Generals?
DJ Gallo: I think you are being a bit disrespectful of the Washington Generals. By the way, I do think this raises a good idea: Why not a women's Harlem Globetrotters team? They could entertain the crowd with sound fundamentals. Look, kids! A textbook bounce pass! "
Friday, April 10, 2009
Not the greatest way to start...
But here's an interesting tidbit. From a recap of Thursday's game on ESPN.com.
"Robinson Cano homered and scored a career-best four runs for the Yankees, who avoided their first 0-3 start since 1998".
It is funny, because usually when you avoid your worst start since year xxxx, year xxxx was a horrible year. Turns out that year xxxx was 1998, the year of the greatest team that ever played. They started 0-3 and in fact 1-4, before going 90-30.
90-30. If a team wins nine out of twelve games, ESPN puts it on the highlight reel to showcase how well they are playing. The Yanks did that for 120 games in 1998. They slowed down after that, but wouldn't you? Why bother trying after leavign everyone that far in the dust. Anyway, this year's team is not going to do what that year's team did, obviously. But how could they? They didn't start 0-3.
~The Sports Maunderer~
"Robinson Cano homered and scored a career-best four runs for the Yankees, who avoided their first 0-3 start since 1998".
It is funny, because usually when you avoid your worst start since year xxxx, year xxxx was a horrible year. Turns out that year xxxx was 1998, the year of the greatest team that ever played. They started 0-3 and in fact 1-4, before going 90-30.
90-30. If a team wins nine out of twelve games, ESPN puts it on the highlight reel to showcase how well they are playing. The Yanks did that for 120 games in 1998. They slowed down after that, but wouldn't you? Why bother trying after leavign everyone that far in the dust. Anyway, this year's team is not going to do what that year's team did, obviously. But how could they? They didn't start 0-3.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Thursday, March 26, 2009
A Plea for Guidance
April 6th. It isn’t D-Day or Pearl Harbor or a Moon landing or heck even Alan B. Shepherd Junior’s May 5th. But it retains some degree of importance. It is the Yankees’ 2009 opening day. April 6th sounds shockingly late to the Sports Maunderer, given that the previous few years have seen late March starts. But then, last Year saw Easter before a single flower had bloomed so I’m convinced that Spring just doesn’t know what to do with itself.
Of more importance than this date, though (at least for those daring to venture into the bowels of this blog yet again—and, by the way, I’m fairly certain that “bowels” are the only body part this blog seems to possess…), is another date: April 12th. Why April 12th? According to Wikipedia, this is why:
“Easter is determined on the basis of lunisolar cycles. The lunar year consists of 30-day and 29-day lunar months, generally alternating, with an embolismic month added periodically to bring the lunar cycle into line with the solar cycle. In each solar year (January 1 to December 31), the lunar month beginning with an ecclesiastical new moon falling in the 29-day period from March 8 to April 5 inclusive is designated as the Paschal lunar month for that year. Easter is the 3rd Sunday in the Paschal lunar month, or, in other words, the Sunday after the Paschal lunar month's 14th day. The 14th of the Paschal lunar month is designated by convention as the Paschal full moon, although the 14th of the lunar month may differ from the date of the astronomical full moon by up to two days.[36] Since the ecclesiastical new moon falls on a date from March 8 to April 5 inclusive, the Paschal full moon (the 14th of that lunar month) must fall on a date from March 21 to April 18 inclusive.”
Now besides those five minutes of your life you will not get back, something else about that paragraph is important. It demands that Easter be placed on the 12th of April. It is not yet the 12th of April. The Sports Maunderer gave up sarcasm for Lent. Lent ends on—well, okay, it doesn’t technically end on Easter, it ends on Holy Thursday but the point is, we are not there yet which means that the Yankees’ baseball season will be starting prior to the Sports Maunderer’s gaining his sarcasm back. Think long and hard about this if you dare. If you do not dare, I will share my thoughts on the subject with you.
Crapdangit.
I suppose that was only really one thought.
Anyway, the Sports Maunderer is quite unsure if he can succeed here. Taking away sarcasm is tantamount to taking away gratuitous, sesquipedalian words or demanding that prolix, loquacious, magniloquent (and might I add redundant) verbiage be ceased.
Is it doable? Probably not. Odds are that I have edited this page several times already, attempting to excise all sarcastic quips, and yet still failed to avoid sarcasm.
Of course this is all made somewhat more difficult by the nebulous notion of sarcasm. What is it exactly? Is it an ironic, inverted comment or is it an acerbic, inverted comment or both or anything quick and witty or what? Is good natured sarcasm still sarcasm? Is self-deprecating sarcasm still sarcasm? I don’t know. This is probably why the Sports Maunderer has been failing so spectacularly with this particular Lenten fast (if my tone appears flippant, I am misleading you. This bothers the Sports Maunderer greatly. It is the first time he has ever failed in a Lenten fast. Ever. He shall now cry for an extended period of time. He has done so. He has returned.)
Regardless, it makes for an interesting little tension between writing well and writing without being sarcastic. This is nearly impossible in any format, but the impossibility is trebled (oooh, I love that entirely inutile lexeme) when it is the freaking SPORTS MAUNDERER. Can it be done? Should he even attempt it? Let him know in the comments and let him know soon, because almost a whole WEEK of baseball will go by before the fast is up. If you are having trouble, think about the fact that I might have to both mention A-Rod and avoid sarcasm in the same sentence. I really don't know...
Of more importance than this date, though (at least for those daring to venture into the bowels of this blog yet again—and, by the way, I’m fairly certain that “bowels” are the only body part this blog seems to possess…), is another date: April 12th. Why April 12th? According to Wikipedia, this is why:
“Easter is determined on the basis of lunisolar cycles. The lunar year consists of 30-day and 29-day lunar months, generally alternating, with an embolismic month added periodically to bring the lunar cycle into line with the solar cycle. In each solar year (January 1 to December 31), the lunar month beginning with an ecclesiastical new moon falling in the 29-day period from March 8 to April 5 inclusive is designated as the Paschal lunar month for that year. Easter is the 3rd Sunday in the Paschal lunar month, or, in other words, the Sunday after the Paschal lunar month's 14th day. The 14th of the Paschal lunar month is designated by convention as the Paschal full moon, although the 14th of the lunar month may differ from the date of the astronomical full moon by up to two days.[36] Since the ecclesiastical new moon falls on a date from March 8 to April 5 inclusive, the Paschal full moon (the 14th of that lunar month) must fall on a date from March 21 to April 18 inclusive.”
Now besides those five minutes of your life you will not get back, something else about that paragraph is important. It demands that Easter be placed on the 12th of April. It is not yet the 12th of April. The Sports Maunderer gave up sarcasm for Lent. Lent ends on—well, okay, it doesn’t technically end on Easter, it ends on Holy Thursday but the point is, we are not there yet which means that the Yankees’ baseball season will be starting prior to the Sports Maunderer’s gaining his sarcasm back. Think long and hard about this if you dare. If you do not dare, I will share my thoughts on the subject with you.
Crapdangit.
I suppose that was only really one thought.
Anyway, the Sports Maunderer is quite unsure if he can succeed here. Taking away sarcasm is tantamount to taking away gratuitous, sesquipedalian words or demanding that prolix, loquacious, magniloquent (and might I add redundant) verbiage be ceased.
Is it doable? Probably not. Odds are that I have edited this page several times already, attempting to excise all sarcastic quips, and yet still failed to avoid sarcasm.
Of course this is all made somewhat more difficult by the nebulous notion of sarcasm. What is it exactly? Is it an ironic, inverted comment or is it an acerbic, inverted comment or both or anything quick and witty or what? Is good natured sarcasm still sarcasm? Is self-deprecating sarcasm still sarcasm? I don’t know. This is probably why the Sports Maunderer has been failing so spectacularly with this particular Lenten fast (if my tone appears flippant, I am misleading you. This bothers the Sports Maunderer greatly. It is the first time he has ever failed in a Lenten fast. Ever. He shall now cry for an extended period of time. He has done so. He has returned.)
Regardless, it makes for an interesting little tension between writing well and writing without being sarcastic. This is nearly impossible in any format, but the impossibility is trebled (oooh, I love that entirely inutile lexeme) when it is the freaking SPORTS MAUNDERER. Can it be done? Should he even attempt it? Let him know in the comments and let him know soon, because almost a whole WEEK of baseball will go by before the fast is up. If you are having trouble, think about the fact that I might have to both mention A-Rod and avoid sarcasm in the same sentence. I really don't know...
Monday, February 09, 2009
Those Guys Were Good.
I am almost too flabbergasted to say anything. I am almost speechless. There are almost no words to describe the situation. Almost.
In fact I can always say something, I'm not sure I've ever been speechless, and unless you run into an alien there are always words to describe a situation. Heck, even if you run into an alien you can describe the situation with such prose as "OMGWTFBBQ!1!one!" which, while technically not a valid lexeme, is a close enough simulacrum to satisfy 99% of the population.
Speaking of 99% of the population, it would appear that is about the sample that is on steroids. Despite A-Rod's past comments (which, everyone had to admit, were entirely reasonable) that he didn't need performance enhancers because he had always been the best player at every level of the game (he didn't say it in exactly those words but come on, it was true and everyone knew it) and there was no need. Well, apparently he has done needless things because he tested positive in 2003. Whoopee. Where does the sport go from here?
Probably down a big toilet of repetition. The thing I find funny about this whole situation is that there was no particular reason to believe A-Rod's veracity while denying others'. Well, there was a particular reason, but it had nothing to do with ratiocination and everything to do with wishful thinking. We believed A-Rod because we wanted to believe him. He was the last chance to save the game's big numbers. Bonds and Sosa and Big Mac had cheated to beat the legends of yesteryear, but A-Rod was clean and A-Rod was going to take all of the numbers back and give them meaning again. Yeah. That was it.
The ironic and hilarious part about this is that we repeat our mistakes so quickly and so emphatically and with such gullibility it is *almost* incredible. Think about our desire to have A-Rod be clean. Isn't this exactly the behavior that led to our being defrauded the first time around? Of course it is. Mark and Sammy were doing unbelievable things. Like, they were literally unbelievable. But we believed because we wanted to do so. When Barry Bonds turned from a base stealing threat into the second coming of the Incredible Hulk and proceeded to outdo an already unbelievable feat, and then outdo another one, we believed because not believing would be quite painful indeed. It would mean admitting that we had been winked by a huge hood, and no one likes doing that.
We did the exact same thing with A-Rod and it is has completely destroyed the numbers of this game. Not the wins and losses. Steroids and HGH were apparently so prevalent that even the bat boys must have been on them. So I feel fine admitting that the Red Sox won legitimately, even if David Ortiz did turn into a monster overnight, that Roger Clemens was on two Yankee World Series teams and the White Sox--the White Sox--won a World Series. But the big numbers--the ones that no one ever forgets...they have been killed dead. 61 was a monument. 73 is a joke. 755 was instantly recognizable. I literally do not even remember what Bond's "record" is. in 1997 there had been two--TWO--60 homer seasons in the 100+ year history of the league. Ten years later that number had been quadrupled. The sixty home run club is meaningless.
And A-Rod can no longer be the savior of the game. Ironically enough, the one thing that would have endeared this preening, unfaithful, stats obssessed pretty boy with baseball fans everywhere was the fact that whatever we thought of him, we thought he was clean, and he could have saved baseball's numbers. Instead, he has destroyed himself. In a recent Jayson Stark column, Stark makes this list:
"The all-time hits leader (Mr. Peter E. Rose) won't be in the Hall of Fame.
The all-time home run leader (assuming that's where A-Rod's highway leads him) won't be in the Hall of Fame.
The man who broke Hank Aaron's career record (Barry Bonds) won't be in the Hall.
The man who broke Roger Maris' single-season record (Mark McGwire) won't be in the Hall.
The man who was once the winningest right-handed pitcher of the live-ball era (Roger Clemens) won't be in the Hall.
The man with the most 60-homer seasons in baseball history (Sammy Sosa) doesn't look like he's headed for the Hall, either. "
This is terrible but it doesn't have to be. It is terrible because Bud Selig doesn't have the cojones to do what would save baseball's hallowed marks. Take Bonds out of the book. Take A-Rod out of the book. Take McGwire out of the book. Take Roger out of the book. Put the records back where they belong, in the hands of the actual greats.
It isn't that steroids are an impeachment of these guys' characters. They have enough other things to do that and the old timers did too. But Babe Ruth ate too many hot dogs and liked too many girls, Roger Maris liked beer too much, etc. These were not the type of things that discredit the game itself. And that was where A-Rod survived in our world. We all know he is a loser off the field, deranged by Jeter-jealousy in the locker room, and suddenly a math wiz regarding the standard deviation of RBIs when a reporter is nearby, but on the field he was a magician who could barely swing and send a ball 450 feet. How sad.
But let's take a moment to think about that of which this should remind us. 755. 61. Babe Ruth's 60 homer season where he also batted .356. These numbers are still, in every way that matters, standing. I mean, holy crap. Those guys were good.
Those Guys Were Good.
In fact I can always say something, I'm not sure I've ever been speechless, and unless you run into an alien there are always words to describe a situation. Heck, even if you run into an alien you can describe the situation with such prose as "OMGWTFBBQ!1!one!" which, while technically not a valid lexeme, is a close enough simulacrum to satisfy 99% of the population.
Speaking of 99% of the population, it would appear that is about the sample that is on steroids. Despite A-Rod's past comments (which, everyone had to admit, were entirely reasonable) that he didn't need performance enhancers because he had always been the best player at every level of the game (he didn't say it in exactly those words but come on, it was true and everyone knew it) and there was no need. Well, apparently he has done needless things because he tested positive in 2003. Whoopee. Where does the sport go from here?
Probably down a big toilet of repetition. The thing I find funny about this whole situation is that there was no particular reason to believe A-Rod's veracity while denying others'. Well, there was a particular reason, but it had nothing to do with ratiocination and everything to do with wishful thinking. We believed A-Rod because we wanted to believe him. He was the last chance to save the game's big numbers. Bonds and Sosa and Big Mac had cheated to beat the legends of yesteryear, but A-Rod was clean and A-Rod was going to take all of the numbers back and give them meaning again. Yeah. That was it.
The ironic and hilarious part about this is that we repeat our mistakes so quickly and so emphatically and with such gullibility it is *almost* incredible. Think about our desire to have A-Rod be clean. Isn't this exactly the behavior that led to our being defrauded the first time around? Of course it is. Mark and Sammy were doing unbelievable things. Like, they were literally unbelievable. But we believed because we wanted to do so. When Barry Bonds turned from a base stealing threat into the second coming of the Incredible Hulk and proceeded to outdo an already unbelievable feat, and then outdo another one, we believed because not believing would be quite painful indeed. It would mean admitting that we had been winked by a huge hood, and no one likes doing that.
We did the exact same thing with A-Rod and it is has completely destroyed the numbers of this game. Not the wins and losses. Steroids and HGH were apparently so prevalent that even the bat boys must have been on them. So I feel fine admitting that the Red Sox won legitimately, even if David Ortiz did turn into a monster overnight, that Roger Clemens was on two Yankee World Series teams and the White Sox--the White Sox--won a World Series. But the big numbers--the ones that no one ever forgets...they have been killed dead. 61 was a monument. 73 is a joke. 755 was instantly recognizable. I literally do not even remember what Bond's "record" is. in 1997 there had been two--TWO--60 homer seasons in the 100+ year history of the league. Ten years later that number had been quadrupled. The sixty home run club is meaningless.
And A-Rod can no longer be the savior of the game. Ironically enough, the one thing that would have endeared this preening, unfaithful, stats obssessed pretty boy with baseball fans everywhere was the fact that whatever we thought of him, we thought he was clean, and he could have saved baseball's numbers. Instead, he has destroyed himself. In a recent Jayson Stark column, Stark makes this list:
"The all-time hits leader (Mr. Peter E. Rose) won't be in the Hall of Fame.
The all-time home run leader (assuming that's where A-Rod's highway leads him) won't be in the Hall of Fame.
The man who broke Hank Aaron's career record (Barry Bonds) won't be in the Hall.
The man who broke Roger Maris' single-season record (Mark McGwire) won't be in the Hall.
The man who was once the winningest right-handed pitcher of the live-ball era (Roger Clemens) won't be in the Hall.
The man with the most 60-homer seasons in baseball history (Sammy Sosa) doesn't look like he's headed for the Hall, either. "
This is terrible but it doesn't have to be. It is terrible because Bud Selig doesn't have the cojones to do what would save baseball's hallowed marks. Take Bonds out of the book. Take A-Rod out of the book. Take McGwire out of the book. Take Roger out of the book. Put the records back where they belong, in the hands of the actual greats.
It isn't that steroids are an impeachment of these guys' characters. They have enough other things to do that and the old timers did too. But Babe Ruth ate too many hot dogs and liked too many girls, Roger Maris liked beer too much, etc. These were not the type of things that discredit the game itself. And that was where A-Rod survived in our world. We all know he is a loser off the field, deranged by Jeter-jealousy in the locker room, and suddenly a math wiz regarding the standard deviation of RBIs when a reporter is nearby, but on the field he was a magician who could barely swing and send a ball 450 feet. How sad.
But let's take a moment to think about that of which this should remind us. 755. 61. Babe Ruth's 60 homer season where he also batted .356. These numbers are still, in every way that matters, standing. I mean, holy crap. Those guys were good.
Those Guys Were Good.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
So Obama...
Picked George Mitchell to fix the whole Middle East problem. Alright, not the whole Middle East problem, but--wait, yes, the whole Middle East problem. Somehow, he will manage to blame it on the Yankees. His source will likely be a terrorist. If you think that is unlikely, remember that he had an admitted steroids provider and only an admitted steroids provider as his source for the infamous eponymous report that seemed to blame everything from New Coke to disco music on the Yankees.
But let's face it, the big news right now is that Joe Torre is a gigantic horse's patoot. Okay, that isn't news, we already knew he was a gigantic horse's patoot. But recently everyone is coming to this realization thanks to his new book where he basically does what he raked David Wells for doing--he whines and pules about all the problems he had with the Yankees, pontificates, somehow manages to avoid any blame himself, and then hides behind the notion that the book isn't really written by him. Jackanapes.
Of course, my other thought is: "What else is new." As if we didn't know A-Rod was a preening pretty-boy obssessed with Derek Jeter. The only reason this is "news" is because someone is actually saying it out loud.
I feel like a mention of the NFL should be in here as well. Stupid. Stupid. 3 turnovers in scoring position. That is all I have to say. 3 turnovers. Stupid. *bangs head on desk*
*repeats*
*repeats*
*repeats*
*takes a deep breath*
*bangs head again*
3 turnovers. Stupid.
By the way, watch Michael Jordan highlights on youtube. Then, think abotu the fact that some people have compared Kobe to MJ. Then feel free to excoriate these people.
Ron Jaworski, he the expert on all matters regarding the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE, seems hoarse.
The Steelers just won the Super Bowl. They aren't the best team in the league this year, but they didn't beat any teams that were better than them so it isn't their fault. Congrats. On winning the lamest Super Bowl matchup ever.
No. I'm not bitter.
But let's face it, the big news right now is that Joe Torre is a gigantic horse's patoot. Okay, that isn't news, we already knew he was a gigantic horse's patoot. But recently everyone is coming to this realization thanks to his new book where he basically does what he raked David Wells for doing--he whines and pules about all the problems he had with the Yankees, pontificates, somehow manages to avoid any blame himself, and then hides behind the notion that the book isn't really written by him. Jackanapes.
Of course, my other thought is: "What else is new." As if we didn't know A-Rod was a preening pretty-boy obssessed with Derek Jeter. The only reason this is "news" is because someone is actually saying it out loud.
I feel like a mention of the NFL should be in here as well. Stupid. Stupid. 3 turnovers in scoring position. That is all I have to say. 3 turnovers. Stupid. *bangs head on desk*
*repeats*
*repeats*
*repeats*
*takes a deep breath*
*bangs head again*
3 turnovers. Stupid.
By the way, watch Michael Jordan highlights on youtube. Then, think abotu the fact that some people have compared Kobe to MJ. Then feel free to excoriate these people.
Ron Jaworski, he the expert on all matters regarding the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE, seems hoarse.
The Steelers just won the Super Bowl. They aren't the best team in the league this year, but they didn't beat any teams that were better than them so it isn't their fault. Congrats. On winning the lamest Super Bowl matchup ever.
No. I'm not bitter.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
A Quick Mort Report
"Due to a quirk in the NFL schedule this year, the AFC West is playing the AFC East. And the NFC West is playing the NFC East. So far, it hasn't worked out well for the road teams. The visitors in the series are 3-11, losing by a combined 12.5 points. Interestingly, the only three road wins were by East Coast teams traveling west: the Panthers won in San Diego, and the Eagles and the Patriots won in San Francisco. No West Coast team has won on the east yet this season."
The number of things wrong with this statement form a recent ESPN article is large. Like, I'm not going to say a googol, but it wouldn't be much of a stretch. Do they even employ editors at ESPN? For one thing, it is not a "quirk" in the NFL schedule that the AFC West is playing the AFC East. It happens once every three years. Not only is it not a quirk, it is relatively common. Also, the visitors in the series did not lose by a "combined" 12.5 points, they lost by an average of 12.5 points. How do I know the writer meant to say average and not combined? Because they don't give out half points in the... (I'm looking at you Jaws!) NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE.
And don't get me started on Chris Mortenson. Every time this guy "reports" something, I either knew it three weeks ago or it involves a third string special teams player. I expect this report from Chris sometime in the near future:
"This just in out of New England: Tom Brady has a torn ACL. Now, among NFL insiders it is well known that the Patriots aren't doing as well this year as some had expected, and some believe Tom Brady's injury might have something to do with this. Scouts point to his 50 touchdown performance of a year ago as evidence that his loss might be detrimental to the team's overall performance. The Patriots are optimistic that he could return sometime before next season, and they really want him back because having injured players hurts your team's chance of success.
Other tidbits:A presidential election is currently underway in the United States. Some experts indicate that this election could be won by either John McCain or Barack Obama...
A little known conflict in the Middle East has gained some attention this year, as a few pundits are positing the notion that the U.S should not have invaded a relatively anonymous country called Iraq...
Apparently, Russia still exists, and has invaded a country recently. Some say the Russkies invaded Georgia, but insiders and experts and pundits and those-in-the-know say this might not be true, because Russia would never invade a state with so many peaches...
Apple launched an advertising campaign some industry experts predict could be succesful in reaching out to young, so call "hip" people. It has to do with a PC, a Mac, and two people who pretend to portray them...
Well that's all for the Mort Report this week, check in next week when we may or may not have information from insiders and experts on the possible outcome of Super Bowl XXV"
Now I have myself excited. If Mortenson ever DID 'report' real news instead of just sports news... I might wet myself out of anticipation. That would be amazing.
The number of things wrong with this statement form a recent ESPN article is large. Like, I'm not going to say a googol, but it wouldn't be much of a stretch. Do they even employ editors at ESPN? For one thing, it is not a "quirk" in the NFL schedule that the AFC West is playing the AFC East. It happens once every three years. Not only is it not a quirk, it is relatively common. Also, the visitors in the series did not lose by a "combined" 12.5 points, they lost by an average of 12.5 points. How do I know the writer meant to say average and not combined? Because they don't give out half points in the... (I'm looking at you Jaws!) NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE.
And don't get me started on Chris Mortenson. Every time this guy "reports" something, I either knew it three weeks ago or it involves a third string special teams player. I expect this report from Chris sometime in the near future:
"This just in out of New England: Tom Brady has a torn ACL. Now, among NFL insiders it is well known that the Patriots aren't doing as well this year as some had expected, and some believe Tom Brady's injury might have something to do with this. Scouts point to his 50 touchdown performance of a year ago as evidence that his loss might be detrimental to the team's overall performance. The Patriots are optimistic that he could return sometime before next season, and they really want him back because having injured players hurts your team's chance of success.
Other tidbits:A presidential election is currently underway in the United States. Some experts indicate that this election could be won by either John McCain or Barack Obama...
A little known conflict in the Middle East has gained some attention this year, as a few pundits are positing the notion that the U.S should not have invaded a relatively anonymous country called Iraq...
Apparently, Russia still exists, and has invaded a country recently. Some say the Russkies invaded Georgia, but insiders and experts and pundits and those-in-the-know say this might not be true, because Russia would never invade a state with so many peaches...
Apple launched an advertising campaign some industry experts predict could be succesful in reaching out to young, so call "hip" people. It has to do with a PC, a Mac, and two people who pretend to portray them...
Well that's all for the Mort Report this week, check in next week when we may or may not have information from insiders and experts on the possible outcome of Super Bowl XXV"
Now I have myself excited. If Mortenson ever DID 'report' real news instead of just sports news... I might wet myself out of anticipation. That would be amazing.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Joe Morgan and oncology.
I have long inveighed against the uselessness of “chemistry” in baseball. Actually, I have long railed against the very term itself, since chemistry has no more to do with team camaraderie and interaction than physics, geology or oncology (and in fact, given the rampant use of the term “cancer” for players of bad repute, you would think good oncology just as important as chemistry in today’s sports). But in particular, my argument was always one of seemingly sound logic: unless Derek Jeter begins refusing to throw to the first basemen, who cares about chemistry?
In particular, I would objurgate those foolish among us who might imply that the Yankees of ‘96-’00 won because they had better chemistry. They didn’t win because they had better chemistry. They won because they were flat out better.
And while I maintain that “chemistry” is still a stupid term and is invoked far too often in defense of teams who simply aren’t that good, I have softened my stance a bit. I still believe the current Yankees lineup is overrated because it contains names of players who used to be good, but there might be another reason contributing to this team’s inability to win in October. Who convinced me? Joe Morgan. Yeah, I know, they should start buying skis in Hell. This coming on the heels of Steve Philips actually impressing me with his wit (though it actually was pretty funny—you should ask the Sports Maunderer about it sometime, when he isn’t procrastinating).
In totally unrelated news that, using my sharp acumen and unmatched cognitive skill I will soon connect in ways unimaginable and completely unforeseeable: the Yankees are quite possibly a .500 team. They might be better—it is hard to tell at this incipient stage of the season. But if they do fail to break the win-one-lose-one routine, it WILL NOT (oh yeah, I just broke out the capital letters) be because of their pitching. It will be due to their mercurial hitting and all-too frequent inability to score runs.
Among the many myths of the Yankees dominance for the latter half of the 90s is the myth that they were great because they had the best pitching in the league. Removing the 1998 team from the equation simply because that team was a dynasty within a dynasty within a dynasty (I defy anyone to find me a team better than that one, including the ’27 Yankees. Quite simply, the ’98 Yankees were better than everyone at everything), the three other years they won the title, they clearly did not have the best starting pitching. In ’96, the Braves had Maddux/Glavine/Smoltz, three Hall of Famers, each in their prime. In ’99 and ’00, you know who had the best team ERA in the league? You guessed it: the Red Sox (thanks in large part to Pedro, smack in the middle the most dominating two year stretch of pitching in modern baseball history). Of course, neither of those teams won. The Yankees did.
The Yankees, assuredly, had Mariano Rivera, but they still have Rivera, and haven’t won in eight years. So what is the difference? Obviously, their pitching is not quite as good as it once was, but it still isn’t horrid (I mean, we are talking about a 1996 pitching staff that gave up four hundred bajillion runs to the Braves in games 1 and 2 of the series, and another six in game four). They didn’t lose the series to Cleveland last year due to bad pitching. They lost due to gnats. But that is beyond the point. The point is that those teams of yesteryear had great lineups.
While the volume of runs scored over 162 games may not be more impressive than the current scenario of flailing hitters up and down the order, the timing of the runs scored was quite different. This team hits home runs, but goodness knows when and how and why and with how many men on base they will do it. They literally come to the plate with a percent chance equivalent to their batting average of doing well—they don’t adapt, they don’t move to the ball, they don’t seem to care who is pitching or what he might throw. The old Yankees were never a threat to hit 250 home runs in a season, but with a runner on second and two outs, they were going to be extremely difficult to get out. They went after the ball instead of swinging where they hoped it would go. They seemed to have a genuine idea of where the pitcher liked to throw, speeds he had, et al.
And even in the case of pitchers, what has happened? The Yankees don’t have all terrible pitchers. They have good ones and terrible ones. Why not more good ones?
Strangely enough, the answer might lie in the nebulous, intangible science of chemistry (though I don’t recall any baseball discussion in general chem. Maybe they don’t get to it until organic?) Joe Morgan made the point in a recent Yankees broadcast that teams with players who like each other, enjoy each other, talk to each other, tend to do better. Why? Because when a hitter strikes out, he doesn’t go into the dugout, sulk, and stare into space with alien eyes that scream “withdrawal!” (I’m looking at you, Jason). He talks to other players and before you know it, the whole team has an idea of what to expect before they even get to the plate.
Joe also made the point that this matters even more with pitchers. He didn’t explain why, but hey, he was on a roll so I took him at his word. All of the sudden, everything makes sense. The camaraderie on this current Yankees team does suck. Th camaraderie on the World Series teams did not. I mean, does anyone see Johnny Damon walking into the dugout and confabulating with Hideki Matsui? And Damon is the most outgoing player on the team. Is Mike Mussina really helping Ian Kennedy (otherwise known as the guy who stole his job last year) become a better pitcher? I wouldn’t bet a bagel on it.
This also makes sense when you think about the fact that, despite all of these “great hitters”, they don’t seem to score as often as they should in the first place. It seems that being a “great hitter” is almost synonymous with blowing it in the clutch, because “great hitters” hit home runs.
Ya know, maybe I was right all along. The Yankees problem is likely just the fact that none of their players are that good. A-Rod hits a lot of home runs, but to hit home runs you need to swing for the fences. Which means you probably will strike out. Which means you aren’t that good of a hitter. By the time he is done, A-Rod might have 800 home runs. But how many of them will have mattered?
Well, if you add strontium hydroxide to magnesium nitrate, you get a precipitate; shouldn’t that tell us something?
~The Sports Maunderer~
In particular, I would objurgate those foolish among us who might imply that the Yankees of ‘96-’00 won because they had better chemistry. They didn’t win because they had better chemistry. They won because they were flat out better.
And while I maintain that “chemistry” is still a stupid term and is invoked far too often in defense of teams who simply aren’t that good, I have softened my stance a bit. I still believe the current Yankees lineup is overrated because it contains names of players who used to be good, but there might be another reason contributing to this team’s inability to win in October. Who convinced me? Joe Morgan. Yeah, I know, they should start buying skis in Hell. This coming on the heels of Steve Philips actually impressing me with his wit (though it actually was pretty funny—you should ask the Sports Maunderer about it sometime, when he isn’t procrastinating).
In totally unrelated news that, using my sharp acumen and unmatched cognitive skill I will soon connect in ways unimaginable and completely unforeseeable: the Yankees are quite possibly a .500 team. They might be better—it is hard to tell at this incipient stage of the season. But if they do fail to break the win-one-lose-one routine, it WILL NOT (oh yeah, I just broke out the capital letters) be because of their pitching. It will be due to their mercurial hitting and all-too frequent inability to score runs.
Among the many myths of the Yankees dominance for the latter half of the 90s is the myth that they were great because they had the best pitching in the league. Removing the 1998 team from the equation simply because that team was a dynasty within a dynasty within a dynasty (I defy anyone to find me a team better than that one, including the ’27 Yankees. Quite simply, the ’98 Yankees were better than everyone at everything), the three other years they won the title, they clearly did not have the best starting pitching. In ’96, the Braves had Maddux/Glavine/Smoltz, three Hall of Famers, each in their prime. In ’99 and ’00, you know who had the best team ERA in the league? You guessed it: the Red Sox (thanks in large part to Pedro, smack in the middle the most dominating two year stretch of pitching in modern baseball history). Of course, neither of those teams won. The Yankees did.
The Yankees, assuredly, had Mariano Rivera, but they still have Rivera, and haven’t won in eight years. So what is the difference? Obviously, their pitching is not quite as good as it once was, but it still isn’t horrid (I mean, we are talking about a 1996 pitching staff that gave up four hundred bajillion runs to the Braves in games 1 and 2 of the series, and another six in game four). They didn’t lose the series to Cleveland last year due to bad pitching. They lost due to gnats. But that is beyond the point. The point is that those teams of yesteryear had great lineups.
While the volume of runs scored over 162 games may not be more impressive than the current scenario of flailing hitters up and down the order, the timing of the runs scored was quite different. This team hits home runs, but goodness knows when and how and why and with how many men on base they will do it. They literally come to the plate with a percent chance equivalent to their batting average of doing well—they don’t adapt, they don’t move to the ball, they don’t seem to care who is pitching or what he might throw. The old Yankees were never a threat to hit 250 home runs in a season, but with a runner on second and two outs, they were going to be extremely difficult to get out. They went after the ball instead of swinging where they hoped it would go. They seemed to have a genuine idea of where the pitcher liked to throw, speeds he had, et al.
And even in the case of pitchers, what has happened? The Yankees don’t have all terrible pitchers. They have good ones and terrible ones. Why not more good ones?
Strangely enough, the answer might lie in the nebulous, intangible science of chemistry (though I don’t recall any baseball discussion in general chem. Maybe they don’t get to it until organic?) Joe Morgan made the point in a recent Yankees broadcast that teams with players who like each other, enjoy each other, talk to each other, tend to do better. Why? Because when a hitter strikes out, he doesn’t go into the dugout, sulk, and stare into space with alien eyes that scream “withdrawal!” (I’m looking at you, Jason). He talks to other players and before you know it, the whole team has an idea of what to expect before they even get to the plate.
Joe also made the point that this matters even more with pitchers. He didn’t explain why, but hey, he was on a roll so I took him at his word. All of the sudden, everything makes sense. The camaraderie on this current Yankees team does suck. Th camaraderie on the World Series teams did not. I mean, does anyone see Johnny Damon walking into the dugout and confabulating with Hideki Matsui? And Damon is the most outgoing player on the team. Is Mike Mussina really helping Ian Kennedy (otherwise known as the guy who stole his job last year) become a better pitcher? I wouldn’t bet a bagel on it.
This also makes sense when you think about the fact that, despite all of these “great hitters”, they don’t seem to score as often as they should in the first place. It seems that being a “great hitter” is almost synonymous with blowing it in the clutch, because “great hitters” hit home runs.
Ya know, maybe I was right all along. The Yankees problem is likely just the fact that none of their players are that good. A-Rod hits a lot of home runs, but to hit home runs you need to swing for the fences. Which means you probably will strike out. Which means you aren’t that good of a hitter. By the time he is done, A-Rod might have 800 home runs. But how many of them will have mattered?
Well, if you add strontium hydroxide to magnesium nitrate, you get a precipitate; shouldn’t that tell us something?
~The Sports Maunderer~
Monday, February 04, 2008
The Patriots are the best team in history...
...to not win the Super bowl.
Oh, and it's time to send Tiki a T-shirt.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Oh, and it's time to send Tiki a T-shirt.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Sunday, January 13, 2008
My Argument is Perfect. To Prove it...
Tautologies are a common fact of life. People argue from their argument.
"This food is better than that food because it has sausage in it."
"Oh yeah? Well this one has pepperoni!"
"Yes, but since my food is better than yours, clearly sausage is better than pepperoni!"
"Oh well of course, I hadn't thought of that."
But seriously, have we grown so logically lazy as a viewing/reading public that we don't spot the problem with made-up statistics? Case in point:John Hollinger.
He is a statistical madman, creating and inventing statistical measures left and right. Then, when he is arguing for a player, he says "See, look, he is so high on my very own invented statistical formula!!!!"Here is PER. Scroll down a bit for the formula. Not only is it nuts, but its John Hollinger's determination of how much everything is worth. It's absurd.
The very thing itself should need to be argued for or against, and yet he uses it like a real measuring stick. He thinks Yao Ming will be the best player in the NBA because his projected PER (yes, not even his actual PER, his "projected" PER) for this season was higher than anyone else's.
This despite the fact that Yao Ming is a stick figure who can't guard anyone, rebound against guys a foot shorter than him, or attack the basket, and who singlehandedly lost Houston the series against Utah last postseason. Now if you want to make a case for Yao, go ahead. But don't do it by creating your own nonsensical formula and then acting as if said formula is an axiom. It isn't. Know how I know? I asked Spock, that's how.
Moving on, with football season one big string left to be played out (where does this highly non-intuitive phrase come from?) thanks to the super team in New England, (get it? Super bowl, super team? Get it? Get it?) we need to find something else interesting. NBA is never interesting at this time of year thanks to the fact that the NBA has exactly the system that people have been clamoring for in college football. And so, instead of enjoying a regular season where the Spurs' insouciance actually matters, the Celtics' prodigious start is actually newsworthy, or the Lakers surprising ability to win games elicits some fun, we know that none of it matters whatsoever, for the playoffs let everyone and their grandmother in, and then the Spurs, Mavs, Suns, Pistons and Celtics will be the only contenders, and they will all be back to square one, and 82 games worth of regulars season will mean--I descend into Vonnegutism--doodly-squat.
Gee, don't you wish college football had something that exciting?!
Then USC/Stanford would have meant... NOTHING! And Pitt/WVU would have meant... NOTHING! And LSU/Kentucky would have meant... NOTHING!
Look, I am all for reducing (drastically) the number of Bowl games. There should be somewhere on the order of ten bowl games, not 32 or whatever there is currently. But a playoff system will just destroy the inherent advantage of meaningful regular season games that college football has.
But what about college basketball, you say? First off, March Madness is a unique beast. College football could not replicate it even if it tried. Second... doesn't March Madness completely invalidate the regular season? Yes! The simple fact of the matter is that for all the "upsets" we hear about in March, the team that is supposed to win... usually does. Florida won last year, and the year before that they capitalized on a rare field of no one being very good. UNC beat everyone when they were supposed to, and you can continue going further back. This is not to say March Madness is unenjoyable. But the College football regular season is a vertiable March madness on its own--lose and you have a very good shot of being out. Normally, you ARE out. This year was a weird year, sure, but does anyone doubt that LSU was the best team in the country? Well, okay, I do. But here is the point: the only challengers would be Georgia and USC; Georgia didn't even win their division, so they have no beef. USC lost to Stanford, so they have no beef.
Really, the only problem with the BCS is that it still recognizes the Big Ten as a BCS conference. The Big Ten is pathetic. It is a step above Conference USA. Maybe. I mean, the ACC is hardly a powerhouse and the ACC is way better than the Big Ten. The Big East blows the Big Ten out of the water. The Pac-10 and SEC are tantamount to pro-level leagues compared to the Big Ten (see: Rose Bowl and BCS title game). The Big Ten should just be abolished.
Yes, that is slightly hyperbolic.
Anyway, the Patriots continue their reign as the team most likely to be picked against in the history of the league for being so dang good. The Jags were the trendy pick this week because they could run the ball. For 80 yards, apparently. 31-20 and it wasn't even that close. The Patriots never punted (except for the garbage time punt when the game was over). Never Punted. So much for Jacksonville's vaunted defense.
Of course, now the Patriots are really hoping the Chargers win. I mean, seriously, Bill Belichick could win against Norv Turner if he was coaching a Big Ten team, much less when he clearly has the superior force. Tony Dungy is not quite so hapless. Either way, SuperBowl XVII will be played two weeks before the commercials come on.
Speaking of the NFC, how about we just get rid of half of the NFC teams? Seattle is perennially exposed once they have to play non-NFC West teams (btw, the NFC West, according to Emmitt Smith, is "one of" the worst conferences in the NFC!!!! No, don't laugh at Emmitt. You are trying to make him an "escape goat". Plus, Emitt brings you useful info all the time. For instance, did you know that Tony Romo not only broke the NFC East record for TD passes, he also broke the Cowboys franchise record?!?!?), Tampa Bay just isn't good, Washington ditto, and while the Giants, Cowboys and Packers are all decent, does the fact that a conference has three good teams make up for the fact that the other conference has way more better teams (I like that phrasing... way more better...)? I say we send the NFC and the Big Ten off to Hawaii to live in peace.
Speaking of Hawaii... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Who didn't see that coming.
Amazing how the press coverage of Hawaii getting pwned was limited on ESPN. It didn't fit in with ESPN's master plan of brainwashing the country to believe that playing against San Jose State is the same as playing against Florida, Arkansas, LSU etc. on a regular basis. Hawaii proved once again that the BCS conferences are simply too good for the non-BCS conferences. Appalachian State helped prove the Big Ten is not a BCS conference by winning at Michigan. My syllogism is impeccable.
Anyway, thanks to a faulty cursor, this post was delayed for many a moon. But don't worry, the Sports Maunderer will be back before the apocalypse comes, and his next post will be way more better.
Until then,
~The Sports Maunderer~
"This food is better than that food because it has sausage in it."
"Oh yeah? Well this one has pepperoni!"
"Yes, but since my food is better than yours, clearly sausage is better than pepperoni!"
"Oh well of course, I hadn't thought of that."
But seriously, have we grown so logically lazy as a viewing/reading public that we don't spot the problem with made-up statistics? Case in point:John Hollinger.
He is a statistical madman, creating and inventing statistical measures left and right. Then, when he is arguing for a player, he says "See, look, he is so high on my very own invented statistical formula!!!!"Here is PER. Scroll down a bit for the formula. Not only is it nuts, but its John Hollinger's determination of how much everything is worth. It's absurd.
The very thing itself should need to be argued for or against, and yet he uses it like a real measuring stick. He thinks Yao Ming will be the best player in the NBA because his projected PER (yes, not even his actual PER, his "projected" PER) for this season was higher than anyone else's.
This despite the fact that Yao Ming is a stick figure who can't guard anyone, rebound against guys a foot shorter than him, or attack the basket, and who singlehandedly lost Houston the series against Utah last postseason. Now if you want to make a case for Yao, go ahead. But don't do it by creating your own nonsensical formula and then acting as if said formula is an axiom. It isn't. Know how I know? I asked Spock, that's how.
Moving on, with football season one big string left to be played out (where does this highly non-intuitive phrase come from?) thanks to the super team in New England, (get it? Super bowl, super team? Get it? Get it?) we need to find something else interesting. NBA is never interesting at this time of year thanks to the fact that the NBA has exactly the system that people have been clamoring for in college football. And so, instead of enjoying a regular season where the Spurs' insouciance actually matters, the Celtics' prodigious start is actually newsworthy, or the Lakers surprising ability to win games elicits some fun, we know that none of it matters whatsoever, for the playoffs let everyone and their grandmother in, and then the Spurs, Mavs, Suns, Pistons and Celtics will be the only contenders, and they will all be back to square one, and 82 games worth of regulars season will mean--I descend into Vonnegutism--doodly-squat.
Gee, don't you wish college football had something that exciting?!
Then USC/Stanford would have meant... NOTHING! And Pitt/WVU would have meant... NOTHING! And LSU/Kentucky would have meant... NOTHING!
Look, I am all for reducing (drastically) the number of Bowl games. There should be somewhere on the order of ten bowl games, not 32 or whatever there is currently. But a playoff system will just destroy the inherent advantage of meaningful regular season games that college football has.
But what about college basketball, you say? First off, March Madness is a unique beast. College football could not replicate it even if it tried. Second... doesn't March Madness completely invalidate the regular season? Yes! The simple fact of the matter is that for all the "upsets" we hear about in March, the team that is supposed to win... usually does. Florida won last year, and the year before that they capitalized on a rare field of no one being very good. UNC beat everyone when they were supposed to, and you can continue going further back. This is not to say March Madness is unenjoyable. But the College football regular season is a vertiable March madness on its own--lose and you have a very good shot of being out. Normally, you ARE out. This year was a weird year, sure, but does anyone doubt that LSU was the best team in the country? Well, okay, I do. But here is the point: the only challengers would be Georgia and USC; Georgia didn't even win their division, so they have no beef. USC lost to Stanford, so they have no beef.
Really, the only problem with the BCS is that it still recognizes the Big Ten as a BCS conference. The Big Ten is pathetic. It is a step above Conference USA. Maybe. I mean, the ACC is hardly a powerhouse and the ACC is way better than the Big Ten. The Big East blows the Big Ten out of the water. The Pac-10 and SEC are tantamount to pro-level leagues compared to the Big Ten (see: Rose Bowl and BCS title game). The Big Ten should just be abolished.
Yes, that is slightly hyperbolic.
Anyway, the Patriots continue their reign as the team most likely to be picked against in the history of the league for being so dang good. The Jags were the trendy pick this week because they could run the ball. For 80 yards, apparently. 31-20 and it wasn't even that close. The Patriots never punted (except for the garbage time punt when the game was over). Never Punted. So much for Jacksonville's vaunted defense.
Of course, now the Patriots are really hoping the Chargers win. I mean, seriously, Bill Belichick could win against Norv Turner if he was coaching a Big Ten team, much less when he clearly has the superior force. Tony Dungy is not quite so hapless. Either way, SuperBowl XVII will be played two weeks before the commercials come on.
Speaking of the NFC, how about we just get rid of half of the NFC teams? Seattle is perennially exposed once they have to play non-NFC West teams (btw, the NFC West, according to Emmitt Smith, is "one of" the worst conferences in the NFC!!!! No, don't laugh at Emmitt. You are trying to make him an "escape goat". Plus, Emitt brings you useful info all the time. For instance, did you know that Tony Romo not only broke the NFC East record for TD passes, he also broke the Cowboys franchise record?!?!?), Tampa Bay just isn't good, Washington ditto, and while the Giants, Cowboys and Packers are all decent, does the fact that a conference has three good teams make up for the fact that the other conference has way more better teams (I like that phrasing... way more better...)? I say we send the NFC and the Big Ten off to Hawaii to live in peace.
Speaking of Hawaii... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Who didn't see that coming.
Amazing how the press coverage of Hawaii getting pwned was limited on ESPN. It didn't fit in with ESPN's master plan of brainwashing the country to believe that playing against San Jose State is the same as playing against Florida, Arkansas, LSU etc. on a regular basis. Hawaii proved once again that the BCS conferences are simply too good for the non-BCS conferences. Appalachian State helped prove the Big Ten is not a BCS conference by winning at Michigan. My syllogism is impeccable.
Anyway, thanks to a faulty cursor, this post was delayed for many a moon. But don't worry, the Sports Maunderer will be back before the apocalypse comes, and his next post will be way more better.
Until then,
~The Sports Maunderer~
Sunday, December 16, 2007
This blog is on life support...
In one of the most saturated three month periods in sports history, I wrote next to nothing. This is a tragedy for all of you, I know. But it is difficult to write with so many extanuating circumstances, and The Sports Maunderer assures you that these aformentioned circumstances mitigate apparent lack of recent verbiage. Some of these circumstances include 286 page novels that aren't even half done, post modern movies with great directing and vacuous plot, the end of life as The Sports Maunderer knew it, A-Rod stinking in October of 2006, weekends spent in despondent silence rather than jubilant, obstreperous blogging, and a general pall of lugubrious happenings.
With that said, let's catch you up on everything that happened recently.
Randy Moss is the best receiever of all time. This did not happen recently, it just needs reaffirming.
The Patriots are 14-0.
The Dolphins are 1-13. And they are happy about this at the moment.
Kevin Durant looks like a cross between Kevin Garnett and Kobe Bryant some nights, and like a cross between Kwame Brown and Jason Williams other nights. So he basically looks like a rookie with loads of potential.
Greg Oden is still 53 years old.
WVU lost to Pitt.
WVU lost to pitt.
Ohio State got thwomped by another SEC team in another national championship game where--oh, that didn't happen yet? Well it will, rest assured.
WVU lost to Pitt.
George Mitchell talked to one trainer and decided to list all the names that trainer happened to declare as steroid users. Wow. That was deep. Very professional. Not a cheap, backhanded swipe at individuals who have no way to regain their images now, despite the fact that they may or may not have used substances that happened to be legal in baseball at the time (albeit illegal in the U.S.), and it isn't like the Mitchell report sheds some illuminating eye on a tainted era. We already knew all of this.
Adrian Peterson is good.
The one on the Vikings, not the one on the Bears. He stinks.
The '72 Dolphins are classless jerks.
The '07 Patriots probably are, too.
Johan Santana is not, I repeat, IS NOT worth Phil Hughes, Melky Cabrera, Ian Kennedy AND a Player-to-be-named-later. I mean seriously, Player-to-be-named-later is crazy good. Everyone ALWAYS wants Player-to-be-named-later in nearly any trade talk.
It has been forty years since 1977.
If you didn't read the last sentence and go... "huh?" you can't do math.
Aliens is much better than Alien.
Michael Vick is having some legal problems. Don't worry if this is new to you--ESPN hasn't given this story the attention it deserves.
The Celtics are really good. And by really good I mean they are really good at beating teams with losing records.
But hey, there are teams that aren't good at that.
Scott Boras is more of a curse than a name.
"System quarterback" is more of a curse than "F***". (See: Heisman Trophy)
Speaking of Heisman Trophies, Tim Tebow won one. He's the first sophomore to do this in the history of sophomores. He is also basically Chuck Norris. When it rains in Florida, Tim Tebow doesn't get wet. The rain gets Tim Tebow'd.
As others have noted, Eric Gagne needs his money back for those performance enhancers he allegedly used.
Led Zeppelin had a reunion show and apparently it was very good.
WVU lost to Pitt.
This shallow sound bite blog post is slightly deificient in the sesquipedalian arena, so here are some words for you to munch on: soporific, pullulation, fetid--
Ooh. I can use that one right now. Hank Steinbrenner is a fetid owner. If he doesn't die of a heart attack soon, *I* will. To go from the ultra smart--albeit cantankerous and stentorian--George to the puerile tactics of Hank is like watching The Godfather and then watching The Forgotten. Well, no, it isn't that bad, but still.
This post is a tad more elongated than I had aimed for, so I leave you with this parting snippet of wisdom:
Emmit Smith believes the NFC west is "one of" the worst conferences in the NFC. This guy must have taken lessons from Chris Mortensen.
Until next time,
~The Sports Maunderer~
With that said, let's catch you up on everything that happened recently.
Randy Moss is the best receiever of all time. This did not happen recently, it just needs reaffirming.
The Patriots are 14-0.
The Dolphins are 1-13. And they are happy about this at the moment.
Kevin Durant looks like a cross between Kevin Garnett and Kobe Bryant some nights, and like a cross between Kwame Brown and Jason Williams other nights. So he basically looks like a rookie with loads of potential.
Greg Oden is still 53 years old.
WVU lost to Pitt.
WVU lost to pitt.
Ohio State got thwomped by another SEC team in another national championship game where--oh, that didn't happen yet? Well it will, rest assured.
WVU lost to Pitt.
George Mitchell talked to one trainer and decided to list all the names that trainer happened to declare as steroid users. Wow. That was deep. Very professional. Not a cheap, backhanded swipe at individuals who have no way to regain their images now, despite the fact that they may or may not have used substances that happened to be legal in baseball at the time (albeit illegal in the U.S.), and it isn't like the Mitchell report sheds some illuminating eye on a tainted era. We already knew all of this.
Adrian Peterson is good.
The one on the Vikings, not the one on the Bears. He stinks.
The '72 Dolphins are classless jerks.
The '07 Patriots probably are, too.
Johan Santana is not, I repeat, IS NOT worth Phil Hughes, Melky Cabrera, Ian Kennedy AND a Player-to-be-named-later. I mean seriously, Player-to-be-named-later is crazy good. Everyone ALWAYS wants Player-to-be-named-later in nearly any trade talk.
It has been forty years since 1977.
If you didn't read the last sentence and go... "huh?" you can't do math.
Aliens is much better than Alien.
Michael Vick is having some legal problems. Don't worry if this is new to you--ESPN hasn't given this story the attention it deserves.
The Celtics are really good. And by really good I mean they are really good at beating teams with losing records.
But hey, there are teams that aren't good at that.
Scott Boras is more of a curse than a name.
"System quarterback" is more of a curse than "F***". (See: Heisman Trophy)
Speaking of Heisman Trophies, Tim Tebow won one. He's the first sophomore to do this in the history of sophomores. He is also basically Chuck Norris. When it rains in Florida, Tim Tebow doesn't get wet. The rain gets Tim Tebow'd.
As others have noted, Eric Gagne needs his money back for those performance enhancers he allegedly used.
Led Zeppelin had a reunion show and apparently it was very good.
WVU lost to Pitt.
This shallow sound bite blog post is slightly deificient in the sesquipedalian arena, so here are some words for you to munch on: soporific, pullulation, fetid--
Ooh. I can use that one right now. Hank Steinbrenner is a fetid owner. If he doesn't die of a heart attack soon, *I* will. To go from the ultra smart--albeit cantankerous and stentorian--George to the puerile tactics of Hank is like watching The Godfather and then watching The Forgotten. Well, no, it isn't that bad, but still.
This post is a tad more elongated than I had aimed for, so I leave you with this parting snippet of wisdom:
Emmit Smith believes the NFC west is "one of" the worst conferences in the NFC. This guy must have taken lessons from Chris Mortensen.
Until next time,
~The Sports Maunderer~
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The Indians were a better team, but they needed a lucky break to win... oh, and Torre's gone.
The Yankees rather obviously lost their series to the Indians, and it has been blamed upon bugs, managers and A-Rod (though of course not Jeter, he's so clutch), but the real reason they lost the series was definitely... no, yeah, it was the bugs. Really.
But think about this. I believe the Indians were a better team. Their top two starters did what they were supposed to do, and their clutch hitting was remarkable. Still, if the bugs had never come, Joba the Hutt gets through the eighth with ease, the Yankees win the game 1-0, and the series, in all likelihood, goes to the Yankees. The inferior Yankees.
This is only possible due to the insane nature of baseball's first round. In a sport where 162 games provides two games difference between division winner and second place, are we supposed to believe that a 5 game series is an adequate sample? Its like having me play Phil Hellmuth in poker, and only playing ten hands, and seeing who wins. I have a decent chance to win if I go all in every time. That is basically the idea behind MLB's five game series.
Anyway, Torre sucks, Jeter sucks, gnats suck, and the Indians are playing the Rockies in the World Series. That howling is coming from whoever loses the most money due to this TV tragedy.
Speaking of the Rockies... well, nevermind, there is nothing to say about them. No one knows who they are, they refuse to lose--ever--and now they are in the World Series. They are from Colorado. They play baseball there?
But then, University of South Florida didn't even have a football team 11 years ago, and they are the second best (sure, whatever) team in the nation. They define "by default".
For those who doubted Randy Moss:
His numbers are too good to type, his team is unbeatable in large part thanks to his very presence, and his supposed cancerous personality has yet to metastatize. Or even show itself. Or even exist.
heh
heh
yeah you get it by now.
To those who root for the Titans:
CURSE MADDEN! CURSE MADDEN! DANG IT ALL!
But think about this. I believe the Indians were a better team. Their top two starters did what they were supposed to do, and their clutch hitting was remarkable. Still, if the bugs had never come, Joba the Hutt gets through the eighth with ease, the Yankees win the game 1-0, and the series, in all likelihood, goes to the Yankees. The inferior Yankees.
This is only possible due to the insane nature of baseball's first round. In a sport where 162 games provides two games difference between division winner and second place, are we supposed to believe that a 5 game series is an adequate sample? Its like having me play Phil Hellmuth in poker, and only playing ten hands, and seeing who wins. I have a decent chance to win if I go all in every time. That is basically the idea behind MLB's five game series.
Anyway, Torre sucks, Jeter sucks, gnats suck, and the Indians are playing the Rockies in the World Series. That howling is coming from whoever loses the most money due to this TV tragedy.
Speaking of the Rockies... well, nevermind, there is nothing to say about them. No one knows who they are, they refuse to lose--ever--and now they are in the World Series. They are from Colorado. They play baseball there?
But then, University of South Florida didn't even have a football team 11 years ago, and they are the second best (sure, whatever) team in the nation. They define "by default".
For those who doubted Randy Moss:
His numbers are too good to type, his team is unbeatable in large part thanks to his very presence, and his supposed cancerous personality has yet to metastatize. Or even show itself. Or even exist.
heh
heh
yeah you get it by now.
To those who root for the Titans:
CURSE MADDEN! CURSE MADDEN! DANG IT ALL!
To those who root for the Yankees:
Torre is gone. It is almost unfathomable. in a weird way, this worked out as well as it could have. The Yankees offered him a contract, he turned it down. Some cantankerous nitwits are going to complain about how the Yankees treated him badly or, abused his paralyzed aunt, or somethign equally inane, but the fact is, this saves some face for the Yankees in front of their relatively misguided fans (usually Yanks fans are great--when it comes to Torre and A-Rod, no one has a freaking clue), and the Yankees get the change they have needed for so long.
Torre was the perfect fit for the Yankees in the mid to late nineties. Back then, the Yanks had a bunch of role players, good starters, and a copious wealth of relievers. Torre could yank his good but not great starters after seven innings, use two relievers every night, three or four when necessary, and not worry about blowing Scott Proctor's arm to the moon. His hitters were basically duplicates of each other, and he could mix and match to his heart's content. Torre is the ultimate meddler in-game.
Also, there were no superstars, there were no lazy veterans, there were no cranky old pitchers who needed to stop pitching but who lived beyond their utility in Torre's senescent loyalty. There were young hitters, young pitchers, guys who needed to be calmed down if anything.
Now, the Yanks have starting pitchers who on any given day could go for six innings or nine, and he is never sure when to pull the plug, so he compromises by always taking them out an inning earlier than one could possibly make an argument for, where his modern bullpen--much thinner than in previous years--procedes to die a long, slow, torturous death. Meanwhile, his lineup of laid back superstars falls asleep for various stretches because Torre is not the kind of guy who gets the adrenaline going.
Torre is a great manager for a certain type of team--just not THIS team. Why does no ever talk about this regarding managers/coaches?
I mean, you wouldn't send Randy Moss out onto the field on defense, nor would you play Tim Duncan at point guard. Steve Nash doesn't work well in a plodding offensive scheme, and Peyton Manning can't win the game for you if he hands it off every time. Why do people pretend that a good manager will simply always be a good fit, and a bad one will simply always be bad? Clearly, this is sometimes possible. Norv Turner is an atrocious head coach, and he always will be. But Bill Belichick was once the proud head coach for the always awful Cleveland Browns. He did well elsewhere, because he fit better elsewhere.
You wouldn't hire Don Nelson to coach a team full of powerful, slow big men, and you wouldn't hire Torre to make terrific in-game decisions or to rev up his players.
He is a fantastic calming presence, and he dealt with NY well. But he simply is not the best manager for this team.
Unfortunately, neither is Don Mattingly, aka Torre 2.0. If Yankee fans get stuck with a Torre clone... I need to find out what kind of pet Brian Cashman owns, buy a large knife, and et acquainted with his bedroom.
If you were totally creeped out by that last statement, pray the Yankees get a real manager, and not a statue.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Friday, September 28, 2007
Takes an hour to write this thing; Takes ten seconds to comment
Just thought I'd mention that.
Anyway, if you are planning on betting anytime soon, don't wager dessert. You could end up in the poor house. Nevertheless, that obscene dollar amount does exactly what it is meant to do. After all, you would never have heard of Sri Lanka otherwise. Well that's an overstatement, but you get the point.
Anyway, the possibility of commenting on the NL playoff races is nil. If I were to say something it would be pointless in a few minutes.
BTW, we all know I cachinnate at both soccer and women's "sports", so you'd think I would find nothing interesting about the grandnanny of them all, women's soccer. Not so. To prove I am not sexist, I will talk about women's soccer.
The #1 ranked U.S. women's soccer team lost 4-0 (ouch!) in the world cup semis the other day. This would be simply a bad loss if not for the fact that the U.S. Women's goalkeeper was a 36 year old goalie who hadnt played since june, as opposed to Hope Solo (no relation to a certain smuggler) who had not given up a goal in 300 minutes. Seriously. I know nothing about soccer but I know you don't take out a sizzling goaltender to bring in a 36 year old who hasnt played in months. So their coach is an idiot right? Yes. And apparently I'm not the only one who thinks so.
Unfortunately Hope apologized for her rant, bringing me to my knees in frustration at the endless list of people who deliver apologies for things that weren't that bad in the first place. Her team got beaten 4-0 and she was probably right when she said it wouldn't have happened if she had been in there. Even if she was wrong--she said it, she thought it, she still thinks it, and who the heck is she convincing with this ersatz apology anyway?
To those who doubted Randy Moss:
5 catches, 115 yards, 2 TDs
heh
heh
heh
To those who root for the Titans: Well they won. They beat a terrible team but they are 2-1.
Mort Report Retort:
This just in, the Bears are changing quarterbacks.
The Mets would like to get some wins these days, since they are losing a lot.
The Yankees are in the playoffs? Weren't they 14 1/2 back?
The Colts won the SuperBowl last year.
Tiki Barber retired, so the Giants don't have him anymore.
The Saints had one of the top offenses in the league last year, so expect them to score points.
Honorary Mention, courtesy of John Madden (this quote is actually real!) "When you talk about a Norv Turner offense, you're usually talking about an offense."
(I guess sometimes you are actually talking about defense...?)
Yankees win wild card. Now all they have to do is avoid the Angels. Oh sure. That'll happen...
~The Sports Maunderer~
Anyway, if you are planning on betting anytime soon, don't wager dessert. You could end up in the poor house. Nevertheless, that obscene dollar amount does exactly what it is meant to do. After all, you would never have heard of Sri Lanka otherwise. Well that's an overstatement, but you get the point.
Anyway, the possibility of commenting on the NL playoff races is nil. If I were to say something it would be pointless in a few minutes.
BTW, we all know I cachinnate at both soccer and women's "sports", so you'd think I would find nothing interesting about the grandnanny of them all, women's soccer. Not so. To prove I am not sexist, I will talk about women's soccer.
The #1 ranked U.S. women's soccer team lost 4-0 (ouch!) in the world cup semis the other day. This would be simply a bad loss if not for the fact that the U.S. Women's goalkeeper was a 36 year old goalie who hadnt played since june, as opposed to Hope Solo (no relation to a certain smuggler) who had not given up a goal in 300 minutes. Seriously. I know nothing about soccer but I know you don't take out a sizzling goaltender to bring in a 36 year old who hasnt played in months. So their coach is an idiot right? Yes. And apparently I'm not the only one who thinks so.
Unfortunately Hope apologized for her rant, bringing me to my knees in frustration at the endless list of people who deliver apologies for things that weren't that bad in the first place. Her team got beaten 4-0 and she was probably right when she said it wouldn't have happened if she had been in there. Even if she was wrong--she said it, she thought it, she still thinks it, and who the heck is she convincing with this ersatz apology anyway?
To those who doubted Randy Moss:
5 catches, 115 yards, 2 TDs
heh
heh
heh
To those who root for the Titans: Well they won. They beat a terrible team but they are 2-1.
Mort Report Retort:
This just in, the Bears are changing quarterbacks.
The Mets would like to get some wins these days, since they are losing a lot.
The Yankees are in the playoffs? Weren't they 14 1/2 back?
The Colts won the SuperBowl last year.
Tiki Barber retired, so the Giants don't have him anymore.
The Saints had one of the top offenses in the league last year, so expect them to score points.
Honorary Mention, courtesy of John Madden (this quote is actually real!) "When you talk about a Norv Turner offense, you're usually talking about an offense."
(I guess sometimes you are actually talking about defense...?)
Yankees win wild card. Now all they have to do is avoid the Angels. Oh sure. That'll happen...
~The Sports Maunderer~
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
When A-Rod goes 1-11
The weirdest thing about the Sox/Yankees series over the weekend was not the big comeback in game 1, the Wang meltdown in game 2 or the Jeter home run in game 3. The Yanks have been coming back all season long, Wang has been having bad starts all season long (it is a weird thing how many wins he has and how low his ERA is. Every time you look up he had another mediocre start, yet his stats are good. Odd.), and Jeter has come through many times before.
The weird thing is that A-Rod went 1-11, and instead of the one hit being a meaningless single with two outs in the sixth of an already decided game, it was the reason they won game 1. His .099 batting average for the series won a game, whereas in yesteryear his .400 batting averages often times failed to make an impact. Last year he would have been crucified for 1-11, probably rightfully so. This year he isn't, also rightfully so. Weird.
Either way, the Yanks look like that proverbial "team no one wants to play" this year, because they can erupt for approximately a gazillion runs at any time. They are also the proverbial "team no one likes rooting for" because they can also quiescently sit by and score 1 run any given day. And yeah I just made that slightly less than proverbial term up on the spot. But you know you have felt that way before and will again, so if nothing else it SHOULD be a proverbial term.
To those who doubted Randy Moss: 6 catches, 100 yds, 2 TDs.
heh
heh
heh
To those who root for the Titans: Dangit. Darnit. DANG. Blast. Stupid play. RUN WITH IT ALREADY! What is this passing nonsense, VY? Dang. Crap. Crud. Stupd stupid stupid. Come on now. Seriously. I mean... seriously. Dang. Darn. What the heck. In the name of all things light blue and dark blue, why. Come on.
To those who wonder why my blogs are getting shorter: You're morons. Figure it out on your own.
Cameragate: That is a retarded name first off. We do not need to put "gate" on the end of "scandals" anymore and even if we did, this is hardly a "scandal". The self-righteous preening punks who keep acting as if Bill Belichick shot their grandmother need to GET A LIFE. He cheated, he got penalized, its over. It wasn't even bad cheating. Does anyone seriously think that makes a difference in games? If you answered yes, your favorite team is either the Colts, Eagles, Panthers or Rams. And you are a moron. The Patriots clearly try to push the envelope as close to the rule boundaries as they can. Most of the time, they don't break the line. This time, they did. They got punished for it. The people who keep declaring this a pattern of flaunting the rules are also morons. They don't have a pattern of flaunting the rules, they have a pattern of getting as much as they can, and sometimes--in other words, this ONE TIME--they go overboard. They lost money and a first round pick and that should be that. I don't like the Patriots anymore than the next guy (The Titans would have won the Super Bowl in 03 if not for the Pats) but I don't think the Titans lost that game because Belichick could see the defensive signals on videotape. The same signals he could just *watch* anytime he wanted to.
Anyway, I'm hungry and tired and all of the sudden poor, so I must be off. Until next time,
~The Sports Maunderer~
The weird thing is that A-Rod went 1-11, and instead of the one hit being a meaningless single with two outs in the sixth of an already decided game, it was the reason they won game 1. His .099 batting average for the series won a game, whereas in yesteryear his .400 batting averages often times failed to make an impact. Last year he would have been crucified for 1-11, probably rightfully so. This year he isn't, also rightfully so. Weird.
Either way, the Yanks look like that proverbial "team no one wants to play" this year, because they can erupt for approximately a gazillion runs at any time. They are also the proverbial "team no one likes rooting for" because they can also quiescently sit by and score 1 run any given day. And yeah I just made that slightly less than proverbial term up on the spot. But you know you have felt that way before and will again, so if nothing else it SHOULD be a proverbial term.
To those who doubted Randy Moss: 6 catches, 100 yds, 2 TDs.
heh
heh
heh
To those who root for the Titans: Dangit. Darnit. DANG. Blast. Stupid play. RUN WITH IT ALREADY! What is this passing nonsense, VY? Dang. Crap. Crud. Stupd stupid stupid. Come on now. Seriously. I mean... seriously. Dang. Darn. What the heck. In the name of all things light blue and dark blue, why. Come on.
To those who wonder why my blogs are getting shorter: You're morons. Figure it out on your own.
Cameragate: That is a retarded name first off. We do not need to put "gate" on the end of "scandals" anymore and even if we did, this is hardly a "scandal". The self-righteous preening punks who keep acting as if Bill Belichick shot their grandmother need to GET A LIFE. He cheated, he got penalized, its over. It wasn't even bad cheating. Does anyone seriously think that makes a difference in games? If you answered yes, your favorite team is either the Colts, Eagles, Panthers or Rams. And you are a moron. The Patriots clearly try to push the envelope as close to the rule boundaries as they can. Most of the time, they don't break the line. This time, they did. They got punished for it. The people who keep declaring this a pattern of flaunting the rules are also morons. They don't have a pattern of flaunting the rules, they have a pattern of getting as much as they can, and sometimes--in other words, this ONE TIME--they go overboard. They lost money and a first round pick and that should be that. I don't like the Patriots anymore than the next guy (The Titans would have won the Super Bowl in 03 if not for the Pats) but I don't think the Titans lost that game because Belichick could see the defensive signals on videotape. The same signals he could just *watch* anytime he wanted to.
Anyway, I'm hungry and tired and all of the sudden poor, so I must be off. Until next time,
~The Sports Maunderer~
Monday, September 10, 2007
The Pauper's NFL Special
Without much time to write, The Sports Maunderer must resort to trite anecdotes and hilarious side-stories to make up this post. We start off with this question, posed to Jerome Bettis on PTI several days ago:
"Who wins the super bowl?"
Pretty simply, right? Everyone and their mother's turtle knows it is coming, right? And even if you don't, you act like you do, right?
Here is Bettis' response.
"Uh, wow. Who wins the super bowl? Phew. Wow. That’s a good one. Hmm… man, that’s a good one. Wow, that is a good one. Hmmm... who wins the super bowl. Man that's a really good question."
Yes. Very good one. I agree Jerome. Most people would, I am sure. Great question. Tony Kornheiser is brilliant for inventing it. I mean, seriously, no one has ever asked that question before. Seriously awesome interviewing, Tony! Great way to think on your feet there, Jerome. But then, I guess you don't have feet, you have wheels?
To those who doubted Randy Moss:
9 catches, 180 yards, 1 fifty-one yard TD.
heh
heh
heh
To those who root for the Titans... Well. They are 1-0. That is about the only good thing to come out of week 1. The offense was bad, the red-zone offense was atrocious, the defense was saved by several fortunate breaks... not the way you want to start the season, but then, I'm sure 16 teams would have taken that start over their own.
Ladainian Tomlinson has to have sold his soul. Having one of the worst games of his career, he still manages to throw for a score and run for another, providing the only offense the Chargers would need in a 14-3 victory? Geez.
Oh and by the way, great way to silence the doubters, Mr. Rex Grossman. (Am I the only one who finds that name funny? I mean, Rex is bad enough, but then "Grossman"? that sounds more like an insult than a last name)
Of course, Philip Rivers played horrible also. I wonder if Rex would look so bad if he had LT2 in his backfield...
So far on the MNF game, Tony and Jaws keep making a big deal out of how the Ravens are screwing up terribly, made more galling by the fact that it is on "national television".
First off, these guys are playing in front of 70,000 people. I doubt anything really bothers them that way. Second, NFL teams are nearly always on "national television". Third, ESPN is a cable channel, so... they aren't even on a channel that everyone can see. Finally, being on national television in the NFL means bupkus, thanks to the fact that win/loss records (and not some prognosticating national polls) determine success. It simply makes no sense to speak of this "national television" phenomenon like no one has ever seen Ray Lewis before. Next they will decry the lamentability of losing a game that is broadcast on the radio.
The Giants lost, and then they lost a ton of people, including their running back and quarterback. They also lost theri season, for that matter.
A-Rod. No need to say anything really. Besides, if I bothered you with his crazy statistics, they would be false by the time you read them anyway, since he is hitting homers way faster than I am writing columns.
Federer wins again. That was one of the more routine marches to triumph I have ever watched, given how much history he was making (record U.S. Opens in a row, extended his own Grand Slam finals in a row mark, tied the most victories in a row at the U.S. Open, tied for second on the all time Grand Slam victories list, now only two behind Sampras, etc.)
By far the funniest thing I have seen in... a long while.
Anyway, The Sports Maunderer probably missed a lot of the important stuff, but don't be worried. For one thing, he always does, and for another, he is so busy missing things these days he has gotten used to it.
Until next time,
~The Sports Maunderer~
"Who wins the super bowl?"
Pretty simply, right? Everyone and their mother's turtle knows it is coming, right? And even if you don't, you act like you do, right?
Here is Bettis' response.
"Uh, wow. Who wins the super bowl? Phew. Wow. That’s a good one. Hmm… man, that’s a good one. Wow, that is a good one. Hmmm... who wins the super bowl. Man that's a really good question."
Yes. Very good one. I agree Jerome. Most people would, I am sure. Great question. Tony Kornheiser is brilliant for inventing it. I mean, seriously, no one has ever asked that question before. Seriously awesome interviewing, Tony! Great way to think on your feet there, Jerome. But then, I guess you don't have feet, you have wheels?
To those who doubted Randy Moss:
9 catches, 180 yards, 1 fifty-one yard TD.
heh
heh
heh
To those who root for the Titans... Well. They are 1-0. That is about the only good thing to come out of week 1. The offense was bad, the red-zone offense was atrocious, the defense was saved by several fortunate breaks... not the way you want to start the season, but then, I'm sure 16 teams would have taken that start over their own.
Ladainian Tomlinson has to have sold his soul. Having one of the worst games of his career, he still manages to throw for a score and run for another, providing the only offense the Chargers would need in a 14-3 victory? Geez.
Oh and by the way, great way to silence the doubters, Mr. Rex Grossman. (Am I the only one who finds that name funny? I mean, Rex is bad enough, but then "Grossman"? that sounds more like an insult than a last name)
Of course, Philip Rivers played horrible also. I wonder if Rex would look so bad if he had LT2 in his backfield...
So far on the MNF game, Tony and Jaws keep making a big deal out of how the Ravens are screwing up terribly, made more galling by the fact that it is on "national television".
First off, these guys are playing in front of 70,000 people. I doubt anything really bothers them that way. Second, NFL teams are nearly always on "national television". Third, ESPN is a cable channel, so... they aren't even on a channel that everyone can see. Finally, being on national television in the NFL means bupkus, thanks to the fact that win/loss records (and not some prognosticating national polls) determine success. It simply makes no sense to speak of this "national television" phenomenon like no one has ever seen Ray Lewis before. Next they will decry the lamentability of losing a game that is broadcast on the radio.
The Giants lost, and then they lost a ton of people, including their running back and quarterback. They also lost theri season, for that matter.
A-Rod. No need to say anything really. Besides, if I bothered you with his crazy statistics, they would be false by the time you read them anyway, since he is hitting homers way faster than I am writing columns.
Federer wins again. That was one of the more routine marches to triumph I have ever watched, given how much history he was making (record U.S. Opens in a row, extended his own Grand Slam finals in a row mark, tied the most victories in a row at the U.S. Open, tied for second on the all time Grand Slam victories list, now only two behind Sampras, etc.)
By far the funniest thing I have seen in... a long while.
Anyway, The Sports Maunderer probably missed a lot of the important stuff, but don't be worried. For one thing, he always does, and for another, he is so busy missing things these days he has gotten used to it.
Until next time,
~The Sports Maunderer~
Sunday, September 02, 2007
You only THOUGHT you knew...
...how pervasive performance enhancing drugs are. Apparently, even the coaches are using them now!
There is a curious nature of all sporting events in which discontinuity between fandom and reality due to mass-reaction takes place. In other words, fans at a game scream like hyenas when a flag is thrown, even though the same fans would probably--if watching from the comfort of their own living rooms--realize, upon further inspection, that the call was a good one. When attending games, the Sports Maunderer is extremely irritated by these reactionist fans who call for pass interference when the receiver wasn't even being covered.
Worse than the overly zealous fan, though, is the overly zealous charlatan who knows nothing about the game. Like the four girls sitting in front of you who annoyingly burst into song as the hint of a cheeseball-antitalent-radiomade-massproduced-nonsensical crap begins to sift from the stadium's loudspeakers. Then they do it again the next time, and again the next time, and you wonder if there *isn't* an utterly atrocious "song" they don't know the words to. The fact that they are bad singers doesn't even have anything to do with it. What makes it all unbearable is the fact that they confused the "stop the clock" sign from the ref with the "incomplete" sign, because, well, obviously, they know zilch about football. They think the redzone is an abstract term for scoring, they think an extra point is a big deal, and they usually cheer or boo at the wrong times, only to reverse their position with double vigor when they see the hilarious, egregious error of their ways. They seem to believe that the extra intensity with which they scream makes up for the fact that they didn't know whether they should cheer or boo. if you dont know when to cheer or jeer, you obviously dont care that much anyway. but of course none of this matters to them. The guys three rows back that they consistently, assiduously, inveterately, unfailingly glance back at every twenty three seconds are cute enoguh that they will feign all types of meretricious fandom.
Anyway, the Yanks beat the snot out of the sox, the sox then got a no-hitter from a rookie, A-Rod is too good for his own good, and this post needs to end because it is 1:53 in the morning.
Heres to real fans everywhere, whether it be Georgia, West Virginia, New Jersey, North Carolina, New York or Pennsylvania.
~The Sports Maunderer~
There is a curious nature of all sporting events in which discontinuity between fandom and reality due to mass-reaction takes place. In other words, fans at a game scream like hyenas when a flag is thrown, even though the same fans would probably--if watching from the comfort of their own living rooms--realize, upon further inspection, that the call was a good one. When attending games, the Sports Maunderer is extremely irritated by these reactionist fans who call for pass interference when the receiver wasn't even being covered.
Worse than the overly zealous fan, though, is the overly zealous charlatan who knows nothing about the game. Like the four girls sitting in front of you who annoyingly burst into song as the hint of a cheeseball-antitalent-radiomade-massproduced-nonsensical crap begins to sift from the stadium's loudspeakers. Then they do it again the next time, and again the next time, and you wonder if there *isn't* an utterly atrocious "song" they don't know the words to. The fact that they are bad singers doesn't even have anything to do with it. What makes it all unbearable is the fact that they confused the "stop the clock" sign from the ref with the "incomplete" sign, because, well, obviously, they know zilch about football. They think the redzone is an abstract term for scoring, they think an extra point is a big deal, and they usually cheer or boo at the wrong times, only to reverse their position with double vigor when they see the hilarious, egregious error of their ways. They seem to believe that the extra intensity with which they scream makes up for the fact that they didn't know whether they should cheer or boo. if you dont know when to cheer or jeer, you obviously dont care that much anyway. but of course none of this matters to them. The guys three rows back that they consistently, assiduously, inveterately, unfailingly glance back at every twenty three seconds are cute enoguh that they will feign all types of meretricious fandom.
Anyway, the Yanks beat the snot out of the sox, the sox then got a no-hitter from a rookie, A-Rod is too good for his own good, and this post needs to end because it is 1:53 in the morning.
Heres to real fans everywhere, whether it be Georgia, West Virginia, New Jersey, North Carolina, New York or Pennsylvania.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Monday, August 20, 2007
The Game That Matters
On Saturday, something that had not happened in twenty one years took place during the afternoon Tigers/Yankees game. The situation was thus:
Runners on the corners, Clemens on the mound, Posada behind the plate, the count was full, there were less than two outs. Jim Leyland, Detroit's manager, called for a double steal. For the edification of the baseball-ignorant, a double steal is a play by which the man on first attempts a steal of second, with two possible positive outcomes. If the catcher throws to second, the instant the ball leaves his hand, the man at third guns it for home. Even if the man stealing second is tagged out, the man from third easily scored and you gained a run. If, fearing a double steal, the catcher does not make the throw, the man on third stays put and you very simply stole second base, not only placing another man in scoring position but taking the ground ball double play out of the equation.
The double steal is a relatively quotidian occurence, particularly when aggressive managers like Leyland are around. He called the double steal this time, and the runner at first took off. Clemens threw a fastball which struck the hitter out, and Jorge came up gunning for second. As the double steal dictates, the man at third--Brandon Inge--immediately took off for home.
What Inge did not anticipate--heck, what no one anticipated--was that Clemens would stick his glove out and intercept the ball. This, of course, left Inge stranded between home and third, and Clemens easily tagged him out. It was a beautiful, rare (the last time it happened was in 1986) scenario which reminds all watching of the pure elegance of baseball.
Baseball is a game in which nine innings can go by without an unexpected event, or which a single inning can contain three uncommon, outrageous happenings. Baseball is above all a game, however, and it maintains that distinction with a pride and dignity that other sports could never hope to attain. No other game could see itself affected by the third basemen surreptitiously taking the ball from the pitcher, only to tag the man at third out when he takes his lead. No other game can elicit such sandlot trickery without losing some of its honor and its integrity. In baseball, the fact that it is a game is its honor and integrity. A rundown between second and third is every bit as plausible in a major league game as a little league game, and that makes sense because baseball is the game that connects generations like no other.
Baseball is a game where intelligence is valued, athleticism is helpful, but more than anything, simply skill is required to win. In football, you can be the greatest mind with the greatest throwing arm of all time, but if your body is smaller than everyone else, you will get crushed into tiny little pieces and never walk again. A linebacker can't simply be good at football. He also has to be big and fast. In basketball, even the greatest shooters languish on the bench if they can't jump out of the building and run past a train. In baseball, David Eckstein is a major leaguer.
Now obviously, to pitch you need a special arm which can throw it 95 mph. But then for every Joel Zumaya there is a Jamie Moyer, craftily outwitting hitters for years by throwing stuff that wouldn't scare me. Fielding doesn't so much require outlandish, eerie athleticism but awareness of the field, the hitter, the pitcher, the wind, a good jump on the ball, a quick throw to the right base. And heck, you could even pretend to forget there were only two outs, wait for the guy on second to sprint to third, then immediately gun him down. It has been done, and only baseball could do it with a sly grin rather than a sheepish frown.
So many fail to understand baseball's majestic greatness, and from a certain perspective that is understandable. If you don't care who wins the game, the right fielder moving ten steps to the left, the guy on second stealing signs, the fastball up and in begin to lose their transcendant qualities. You start to worry less about why the pitcher has shaken the catcher off four times and more about why he won't pitch and get the inning over with already. You start to lose sight of the elegant nine-inning format where the game itself keeps time, and wonder why a buzzer wouldn't go off so you could watch your beloved OC coming up next.
But when the pitcher is your pitcher, and the hitter belongs to the most underhanded, duplicitous, dirty, abhorrent team in America, the wheel play takes on celestial significance, the hanging curveball evokes somniferous horrors, and the umpire who calls too small a strike zone is a regular Jekyll when your team is batting, a loathsome Hyde when your team is pitching.
The counter-intuitive aspects of baseball which seem so inane to college football fans are the reasons baseball lives on. Yes, the defense does have the ball, and no, the pitcher's duel is not boring. When Joba Chamberlain wipes out the heart of Detroit's order, and Edwar Ramirez follows by throwing changeups that don't seem slow until you realize you struck out and the ball hasn't even hit the catcher's mitt yet, anyone with a heart can only rage with enthusiasm as the young guns are throwing the ball right by--or way in front of--the seasoned Tigers lineup.
There is nothing wrong with watching football or basketball or any other sport (save soccer). In fact, it could be argued that playing those sports is just as enjoyable or moreso (particularly given that I have played basketball my entire life). But for the James Bond flicks that are basketball games, there are the timeless baseball Godfathers. While football creates war movie epics, baseball crafts Citizen Kane, 2001 and Field of Dreams (the latter quite literally!). Not everyone udnerstands them, not everyone gets them, not everyone cares, but in a hundred years, no one will remember who Ethan Hunt is. I'm betting they'll remember who Dave Bowman is.
Call baseball elitist, call it esoteric, call it slow, call it an old man's game, call it an old game period, but just remember: Miguel Cabrera swung at an intent ball and won the game with it. That didn't require thought or muscles or reaction times. All it required was the puerile art of a kid who had played baseball his whole life, and knew he had done the same thing when he was eight years old.
Roger Clemens stuck his glove out. He is 45 years old. He probably did the same thing when he was ten. Here's to the ageless game, in every sense of those words.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Runners on the corners, Clemens on the mound, Posada behind the plate, the count was full, there were less than two outs. Jim Leyland, Detroit's manager, called for a double steal. For the edification of the baseball-ignorant, a double steal is a play by which the man on first attempts a steal of second, with two possible positive outcomes. If the catcher throws to second, the instant the ball leaves his hand, the man at third guns it for home. Even if the man stealing second is tagged out, the man from third easily scored and you gained a run. If, fearing a double steal, the catcher does not make the throw, the man on third stays put and you very simply stole second base, not only placing another man in scoring position but taking the ground ball double play out of the equation.
The double steal is a relatively quotidian occurence, particularly when aggressive managers like Leyland are around. He called the double steal this time, and the runner at first took off. Clemens threw a fastball which struck the hitter out, and Jorge came up gunning for second. As the double steal dictates, the man at third--Brandon Inge--immediately took off for home.
What Inge did not anticipate--heck, what no one anticipated--was that Clemens would stick his glove out and intercept the ball. This, of course, left Inge stranded between home and third, and Clemens easily tagged him out. It was a beautiful, rare (the last time it happened was in 1986) scenario which reminds all watching of the pure elegance of baseball.
Baseball is a game in which nine innings can go by without an unexpected event, or which a single inning can contain three uncommon, outrageous happenings. Baseball is above all a game, however, and it maintains that distinction with a pride and dignity that other sports could never hope to attain. No other game could see itself affected by the third basemen surreptitiously taking the ball from the pitcher, only to tag the man at third out when he takes his lead. No other game can elicit such sandlot trickery without losing some of its honor and its integrity. In baseball, the fact that it is a game is its honor and integrity. A rundown between second and third is every bit as plausible in a major league game as a little league game, and that makes sense because baseball is the game that connects generations like no other.
Baseball is a game where intelligence is valued, athleticism is helpful, but more than anything, simply skill is required to win. In football, you can be the greatest mind with the greatest throwing arm of all time, but if your body is smaller than everyone else, you will get crushed into tiny little pieces and never walk again. A linebacker can't simply be good at football. He also has to be big and fast. In basketball, even the greatest shooters languish on the bench if they can't jump out of the building and run past a train. In baseball, David Eckstein is a major leaguer.
Now obviously, to pitch you need a special arm which can throw it 95 mph. But then for every Joel Zumaya there is a Jamie Moyer, craftily outwitting hitters for years by throwing stuff that wouldn't scare me. Fielding doesn't so much require outlandish, eerie athleticism but awareness of the field, the hitter, the pitcher, the wind, a good jump on the ball, a quick throw to the right base. And heck, you could even pretend to forget there were only two outs, wait for the guy on second to sprint to third, then immediately gun him down. It has been done, and only baseball could do it with a sly grin rather than a sheepish frown.
So many fail to understand baseball's majestic greatness, and from a certain perspective that is understandable. If you don't care who wins the game, the right fielder moving ten steps to the left, the guy on second stealing signs, the fastball up and in begin to lose their transcendant qualities. You start to worry less about why the pitcher has shaken the catcher off four times and more about why he won't pitch and get the inning over with already. You start to lose sight of the elegant nine-inning format where the game itself keeps time, and wonder why a buzzer wouldn't go off so you could watch your beloved OC coming up next.
But when the pitcher is your pitcher, and the hitter belongs to the most underhanded, duplicitous, dirty, abhorrent team in America, the wheel play takes on celestial significance, the hanging curveball evokes somniferous horrors, and the umpire who calls too small a strike zone is a regular Jekyll when your team is batting, a loathsome Hyde when your team is pitching.
The counter-intuitive aspects of baseball which seem so inane to college football fans are the reasons baseball lives on. Yes, the defense does have the ball, and no, the pitcher's duel is not boring. When Joba Chamberlain wipes out the heart of Detroit's order, and Edwar Ramirez follows by throwing changeups that don't seem slow until you realize you struck out and the ball hasn't even hit the catcher's mitt yet, anyone with a heart can only rage with enthusiasm as the young guns are throwing the ball right by--or way in front of--the seasoned Tigers lineup.
There is nothing wrong with watching football or basketball or any other sport (save soccer). In fact, it could be argued that playing those sports is just as enjoyable or moreso (particularly given that I have played basketball my entire life). But for the James Bond flicks that are basketball games, there are the timeless baseball Godfathers. While football creates war movie epics, baseball crafts Citizen Kane, 2001 and Field of Dreams (the latter quite literally!). Not everyone udnerstands them, not everyone gets them, not everyone cares, but in a hundred years, no one will remember who Ethan Hunt is. I'm betting they'll remember who Dave Bowman is.
Call baseball elitist, call it esoteric, call it slow, call it an old man's game, call it an old game period, but just remember: Miguel Cabrera swung at an intent ball and won the game with it. That didn't require thought or muscles or reaction times. All it required was the puerile art of a kid who had played baseball his whole life, and knew he had done the same thing when he was eight years old.
Roger Clemens stuck his glove out. He is 45 years old. He probably did the same thing when he was ten. Here's to the ageless game, in every sense of those words.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Midgets, Morons, MSNBC
In the course of this blog's outrageously awesome research department (otherwise known as a nasty addiction to MSNBC.com), I have discovered why Americans no longer win international basketball tournaments, competitions and Olympics.
We are too short.
In all sincerity, how can one help but feel sorry for America. We used to be the tallest nation in the world, now we're short and fat.
But we still have our fallacious moralists.
Yes. Obviously. Indubitably. This guy is %100 correct. Clearly, declaring anything wrong while not being perfect yourself is hypocritical and pointless. Indeed, Bond's blatant cheating is acceptable, because, after all, other people have, at some point in time, cheated. Yes. The logic is irrefutable.
I know I normally leave the cantankerous, rambling soliloquys regarding the deprevation of morality to Mr. H.R. Williams, but really, this article is simply too inane to pass up. And sadly, it is rather reflective of America's general ideas about these things.
A) You can't ever claim someone else is doing something wrong because you aren't perfect either. Yes, that is a complete non sequitor, but what do you care?
B) Everybody is doing it, so you can't get upset by it. Yes, because obviously the more prevalent, quotidian and ubiquitous immorality becomes, the less disturbing it is.
C) It is instinctual; you would do it also. Quite so, because after all, the odds of someone having self-control in thie day and age are so low, that we believe simply because something comes naturally, that it is somehow ethical. Sure, that makes sense. Like when I just "naturally" want to kick Mike Celizic in the nuts, no one can complain because it was "instinctual".
Barry Bonds--knowingly or unknowingly, though we all know that such a control freak would not unknowingly do something like this (wow. I fit almost as many "knows" in there as Donald Rumsfeld)--cheated. He said so to a grand jury. This is reprehensible behavior, and one should not succumb to the puerile logic of any Mike Celizic in the world regarding his illicit overtaking of the home run record.
Of course, none of it really matters anyway. If Babe Ruth played in today's game (and hadn't spent his first several years as a pitcher), he would have hit 1,200 home runs.
And he did it all with a career .342 average. In case you were wondering, Bonds' is below .300.
And yes, the fact that Babe Ruth was a womanizer and drunk is reprehensible. I say this despite, having at some point in my life (I know, it is hard to believe) done something wrong. Oh aren't *I* a hypocrite. *wags finger at self*
~The Sports Maunderer~
P.S. In Bill Simmon's latest mailbag, a reader emailed him with the knowledge that he had recently bought the 1987 world series on DVD. Tim McCarver (Joe Buck's baseball buddy) at one point (I kiddeth not) uttered this sensational piece of insight:
"If you are a contact hitter, you've got to make contact to play in this league"
I feel like your life would be incomplete without this knowledge.
We are too short.
In all sincerity, how can one help but feel sorry for America. We used to be the tallest nation in the world, now we're short and fat.
But we still have our fallacious moralists.
Yes. Obviously. Indubitably. This guy is %100 correct. Clearly, declaring anything wrong while not being perfect yourself is hypocritical and pointless. Indeed, Bond's blatant cheating is acceptable, because, after all, other people have, at some point in time, cheated. Yes. The logic is irrefutable.
I know I normally leave the cantankerous, rambling soliloquys regarding the deprevation of morality to Mr. H.R. Williams, but really, this article is simply too inane to pass up. And sadly, it is rather reflective of America's general ideas about these things.
A) You can't ever claim someone else is doing something wrong because you aren't perfect either. Yes, that is a complete non sequitor, but what do you care?
B) Everybody is doing it, so you can't get upset by it. Yes, because obviously the more prevalent, quotidian and ubiquitous immorality becomes, the less disturbing it is.
C) It is instinctual; you would do it also. Quite so, because after all, the odds of someone having self-control in thie day and age are so low, that we believe simply because something comes naturally, that it is somehow ethical. Sure, that makes sense. Like when I just "naturally" want to kick Mike Celizic in the nuts, no one can complain because it was "instinctual".
Barry Bonds--knowingly or unknowingly, though we all know that such a control freak would not unknowingly do something like this (wow. I fit almost as many "knows" in there as Donald Rumsfeld)--cheated. He said so to a grand jury. This is reprehensible behavior, and one should not succumb to the puerile logic of any Mike Celizic in the world regarding his illicit overtaking of the home run record.
Of course, none of it really matters anyway. If Babe Ruth played in today's game (and hadn't spent his first several years as a pitcher), he would have hit 1,200 home runs.
And he did it all with a career .342 average. In case you were wondering, Bonds' is below .300.
And yes, the fact that Babe Ruth was a womanizer and drunk is reprehensible. I say this despite, having at some point in my life (I know, it is hard to believe) done something wrong. Oh aren't *I* a hypocrite. *wags finger at self*
~The Sports Maunderer~
P.S. In Bill Simmon's latest mailbag, a reader emailed him with the knowledge that he had recently bought the 1987 world series on DVD. Tim McCarver (Joe Buck's baseball buddy) at one point (I kiddeth not) uttered this sensational piece of insight:
"If you are a contact hitter, you've got to make contact to play in this league"
I feel like your life would be incomplete without this knowledge.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Well my bracket is in shreds
Gotta say, ESPN's "Who's Now" competition really surprised me. My bracket is in total shreds. I mean, goodness, only three of the four #1 seeds made the final four, and the other one was Shaq of all people. And Federer losing to Tony Parker? Who saw that coming. I mean it isn't like Tony Parker is a vastly overrated, ESPN created personality. But it could be worse, Tony could have beaten the greatest tennis player alive in the first round. Err
But really, I am just shocked that Tiger Woods got to the finals of this thing. I mean seriously, an ESPN moderated popularity contest where TIGER WOODS finished strong? What is this, verisimilitude land? I mean seriously, I could never have predicted any of these match-ups to go the way they did. Well, except for all of them. If I really had made a bracket, I would be undefeated right now.
Anyway, the time is for talking about baseball. Why? Because Aaron hasn't read my blog in a while, and the excuse he gives is fallacious. So in order to avoid making a liar out of Aaron "so hot it" Burns (no, I didn't make that up), I need to talk baseball for the first time in a while, so that his excuse ("You only write about baseball") makes some semblance of sense.
What to talk about? How about those wonderful Bronx Bombers. Yeah, them. The ones who have hit 21, 17 and 16 runs in individual games, but still managed to get shut out by the freaking Orioles. Paaaaaaathetic. Nevertheless, they are only 3 games out of the wildcard, because, well, the Indians have scored two runs or fewer in six of their last eight games. Funny how teams tend to go as their offenses go, even those with supposed great pitching.
Of course, the Yankees made a move at the trade deadline. A reliever was involved, because obviously the Yankees need bullpen help--their arms are worn out and even if they hadn't been mismanaged to a gruesome early death by the visage of vampire that is Joe Torre, they were never that good in the first place, so clearly trading for another bullpen arm was--
Wait, what? They traded AWAY Scott Procter?! They now have LESS arms in the bullpen than before? Yes, I officially quit on understanding this team. They make moves so boneheaded that one has to believe Brian Cashman is just sitting in a room with Torre somewhere, having this conversation:
Cashman: Joe, wake up, the game's over!
Torre: Hunh? What? Oh, right. Calm down, we need to tak this one game at a time, don't get too high or too low, stop worrying about whether or not you are playing well at the moment, just --
Cashman: Would you shut up? We're not having a team meeting after a seven game losing streak, we're talking trades.
Torre: Oh, right. Well, we need bullpen help and lots of it. Maybe a fifth starter also. But really, was just need to avoid doing anything dumb.
Cashman: I agree. So what do you say we trade part of our bullpen for a completely unnecessary infielder (we already have six of them) batting .231?
Torre: What? .231? Doesn't that mean that he gets hits every once in a while?
Of course, I'm not sure if that conversation could ever actually happen because Torre might not even know what "batting average" is. Really, I wonder if he has ever said anything other than "warm Proctor/Farnsworth/Viscaino up" in the fourth inning of a perfect game where Wang has only thrown 28 pitches.
A-Rod, meanwhile, needs to hit 500 quickly. He hasn't a hit since 499. Then again, I would have been a bit screwed up by the whole "going back in time for a suspended game thing" also, but seriously, he has done this 499 times before, you wouldn't think he'd find it so difficult.
Until the next boneheaded Yankees move (that won't be long...)
~The Sports Maunderer~
But really, I am just shocked that Tiger Woods got to the finals of this thing. I mean seriously, an ESPN moderated popularity contest where TIGER WOODS finished strong? What is this, verisimilitude land? I mean seriously, I could never have predicted any of these match-ups to go the way they did. Well, except for all of them. If I really had made a bracket, I would be undefeated right now.
Anyway, the time is for talking about baseball. Why? Because Aaron hasn't read my blog in a while, and the excuse he gives is fallacious. So in order to avoid making a liar out of Aaron "so hot it" Burns (no, I didn't make that up), I need to talk baseball for the first time in a while, so that his excuse ("You only write about baseball") makes some semblance of sense.
What to talk about? How about those wonderful Bronx Bombers. Yeah, them. The ones who have hit 21, 17 and 16 runs in individual games, but still managed to get shut out by the freaking Orioles. Paaaaaaathetic. Nevertheless, they are only 3 games out of the wildcard, because, well, the Indians have scored two runs or fewer in six of their last eight games. Funny how teams tend to go as their offenses go, even those with supposed great pitching.
Of course, the Yankees made a move at the trade deadline. A reliever was involved, because obviously the Yankees need bullpen help--their arms are worn out and even if they hadn't been mismanaged to a gruesome early death by the visage of vampire that is Joe Torre, they were never that good in the first place, so clearly trading for another bullpen arm was--
Wait, what? They traded AWAY Scott Procter?! They now have LESS arms in the bullpen than before? Yes, I officially quit on understanding this team. They make moves so boneheaded that one has to believe Brian Cashman is just sitting in a room with Torre somewhere, having this conversation:
Cashman: Joe, wake up, the game's over!
Torre: Hunh? What? Oh, right. Calm down, we need to tak this one game at a time, don't get too high or too low, stop worrying about whether or not you are playing well at the moment, just --
Cashman: Would you shut up? We're not having a team meeting after a seven game losing streak, we're talking trades.
Torre: Oh, right. Well, we need bullpen help and lots of it. Maybe a fifth starter also. But really, was just need to avoid doing anything dumb.
Cashman: I agree. So what do you say we trade part of our bullpen for a completely unnecessary infielder (we already have six of them) batting .231?
Torre: What? .231? Doesn't that mean that he gets hits every once in a while?
Of course, I'm not sure if that conversation could ever actually happen because Torre might not even know what "batting average" is. Really, I wonder if he has ever said anything other than "warm Proctor/Farnsworth/Viscaino up" in the fourth inning of a perfect game where Wang has only thrown 28 pitches.
A-Rod, meanwhile, needs to hit 500 quickly. He hasn't a hit since 499. Then again, I would have been a bit screwed up by the whole "going back in time for a suspended game thing" also, but seriously, he has done this 499 times before, you wouldn't think he'd find it so difficult.
Until the next boneheaded Yankees move (that won't be long...)
~The Sports Maunderer~
Sunday, July 29, 2007
1972
Michael Vick was indicted just as Chris Mortensen said wouldn’t happen, Randy Moss and Tom Brady appear to be getting along fine just like ESPN unilaterally decided wouldn’t happen, and David Beckham is here to energize soccer in America, which everyone knows won’t happen.
Derek Jeter says the Yanks can catch the Sox, which everyone knows they can’t.
Talladega nights won the ESPY for best sports movie, which everyone knows sucks.
Dale Earnhardt Junior is going to replace Kyle Busch in Hendrick racing (probably the first NASCAR related factoid ever divulged on The Sports Maunderer), even though he stinks.
If only the world was as simple as in 1972. Back then, Americans were good guys, Russians were bad guys, and everyone else had to pick a side, rename itself Switzerland, or surrender (only one country chose the latter option, I’m sure you can guess which). Back then, no one had ever heard of steroids, and the Super Bowl was a new-fangled concoction of those dudes whose shoulders looked way too big. Movies were movies (and Al Pacino didn’t look dead), and Harry Potter had never been heard of (its too bad he isn’t dead).
In 1972, Bobby Fischer told the world he would win the World Chess Championship, though everyone knew the Russians always won. He then told the world he wouldn’t play because the cameras had to leave, and most people believed him. He was insane, after all.
He ended up not only playing but capping off one of the great stories of the 20th century. Bobby Fischer was a champion in every possible way; he was called a complainer, a crackpot, insane, reckless, and bordering on otherworldly. He was likely all of these things as well, but they do not diminish his greatness. Indeed, they were likely the reason for his greatness.
In the late 1950s and the 1960s, when Fischer was winning U.S. opens at the age of fourteen and beyond (he played in the U.S. Chess Championship eight times, and won each time), becoming the youngest grandmaster ever at sixteen, mesmerizing former world champions with his play and nearly disappearing on multifarious occasions, chess was hardly on the map of the world, except in the place that owned it: Russia.
Russian chess players were often seen as products of the communist system, and in the sense that Russia had a very good system for discovering and nurturing young chess talent, that was true. They were extremely varied in style and physiognomy, however, not all lining up as boring, mathematical, apathetic geniuses. The man who seemed to embody that saturnine, tedious verisimilitude did end up claiming the World Championship, however, in the form of Boris Spassky. He was the last in an impressively long line of Russian champions. Indeed, after Fischer, that line would start again and has maintained itself to this day. Since 1948, only three years have gone by where a Russian was not the world champion. So in case you haven’t gotten the picture, Russians are very, very good at chess.
So obviously when Fischer was in the midst of thwomping Spassky like a native American drum, the world was slightly interested. The entire career of America’s lone champion was worth discussing, though. It was, very simply, weird. It also contained the Sandy Koufax period of championship chess, and indeed that is a great injustice to Bobby Fischer’s play; not only was he better than Koufax in his prime, he never had a 4.00 ERA in his early career. Bobby Fischer was one of the great chess players of all time throughout his career. For a span of one or two years, he was far better than anyone else has ever been, possibly at anything.
To understand why ordinary people look at Bobby Fischer in a different light is to understand the obvious. He was calumnious, cranky, picky, quick-tempered—you never knew what vicissitudes of countenance he would showcase or what their effect would be. He was churlish, boorish, and in many ways simply a rude curmudgeon. If he had not played chess as well as he did, it is likely he would have been an ostracized crazy man.
To understand why chess players find Bobby Fischer interesting, one needs to understand that he did not simply win the world championship once and then disappear. Oh sure, he did that. But this man dominated tournaments like no one before him or after him has. He dominated match play against the world’s best like no one before him had or anyone after him likely will.
In high level tournaments, draws are inevitable. It is simply impossible to consistently outplay other grandmasters to the point of defeat over and over and over. For instance, a score of 7/12 (a win is one point, a draw is half a point, a loss is zero points) at a strong grandmaster invitational is considered a great outcome. The winner might be 7.5/12, if that. For perspective, 7.5/12 would likely mean a player scored four wins, one loss and seven draws. Draws are merely expected to outnumber decisions at such a level. In match play, where the same two opponents are facing each other repeatedly, draws are even more ubiquitous.
To illustrate the point: In Kasparov v. Karpov, the world championship match in 1981, the format was simple. First man to six wins claims the title, no matter how long it takes. After forty-eight games, the match was cancelled due to the absurd length of the match. Only eight decisions had been derived; forty of the matches were draws! In Kasparov v. Kramnik in 2000, Kramnik eked out a close victory in which Kasparov did not manage to win a single game. For reference, Kasparov is considered one of the best, if not the best player of all time by most pundits. He holds records for highest rating, duration of rating, and numerous other titles in addition to almost twenty years of being world champion. Yet he failed to win once. Instead, he racked up a ton of 1/2-1/2s.
So clearly, high level play is fraught with draws.
Bobby Fischer’s U.S. Open scores were : 1957-58: 10.5/13; 1958-59: 8.5/11; 1959-60: 9/11; 1960-61: 9/11; 1962-63: 8/11; 1963-64: 11/11; 1965-66: 8.5/11; 1966-67: 9.5/11.
Included rather innocently in that tiny diagram of domination is his impossible 1964 victory at the U.S. Open in which he won every game he played. He did not draw a single game. This is akin to a football team playing an entire season without even falling behind at any point in any game. As a player continues winning, it is the almost understood duty of each player who plays him to at least draw him. Yet they could not. Even with the black pieces (a common misconception is that black and white are equal in chess. They are not. A draw with black is more or less considered a good outcome at the highest levels), Fischer could not be touched.
And none of this takes away from his overall domination at the tournament from the age of fourteen and beyond. He played in eight U.S. Opens and lost three whole games out of ninety!
Well “so what?” you say, he was clearly the greatest American player ever. Indeed, so what. Never mind the fact that no player has dominated a tournament scene like that—what about the Russians?!
For the year leading up to his historic battle with Boris Spassky, Fischer put on a show like none other in the history of chess. To reach the position of world championship challenger, one had to first climb through a succession of zonal, interzonal and match play tournaments. After easily reaching the candidates matches (while posting scores of 19/22 and 15/17 in other, non-championship related tournaments), he played three of the greatest chess minds of the day. To say he extirpated them would be an understatement.
First, he played against Russian Mark Taimanov. Taimanov has an opening named after him, if you were curious as to his ability. Fischer won the match 6-0. Taimanov could not even draw him once. Towards the end of the match, Taimanov contracted a mysterious illness.
Second, Fischer played Bent Larsen, the strongest Danish grandmaster ever. Towards the end of another 6-0 rout, Larsen contracted a mysterious illness. It was dubbed “Fischer fever” and no one could really take it seriously other than an excuse to delay games towards the inevitable conclusion of the match.
The final opponent before Spassky: Tigran Petrosian, the former world champion, considered one of the three strongest players in the world. Petrosian finally offered a bit of resistance, managing a win in the second game and even the score. After a few draws, Fischer won again. Then, he won again. Petrosian was suddenly ill. Fischer finished him off with a four game winning streak. Fischer so dominated his opponents mentally and physically that they all complained of an ersatz illness.
After all, let us not forget it was Bobby Fischer. He never made a match easy. He complained about lighting, about chess sets, about chairs, etc. He would show up late to games, leave for extended periods of time, etc. He was perhaps the most difficult opponent to play in the world completely regardless of his ferocious ability on the board.
And he put his psychological warfare into full force with Boris Spassky. He first refused to attend his own match, then he arrived and refused to play because of the cameras and the spectators, then he forfeited the second game by not showing up. He had now played Boris Spassky seven times, won none, drawn three, lost four—one by forfeit. The world was beginning to think Fischer was as much of a poseur in chess as the French are in war.
But really, Spassky was doomed to lose. After agreeing to play in a back room away from cameras and spectators for the third game, Spassky finally broke and lost to Fischer. Over the course of the match, Fischer would relatively easily defeat Spassky. After grabbing a three point lead, Fischer was content to draw the rest of the games to eventually win by a score of 12.5-8.5 Bobby was the king of the world.
It would not stay that way for long.
It is often believed that chess drives men crazy. A wise man once denied that belief with the clever and indubitable line, “Chess does not drive normal men past the edge of sanity. Chess keeps insane men on the normal side.”
Nowhere was this expressed more visibly than with Fischer, whose disappearances, rants, hate and simply downright lunatic behavior since 1972 show a man who likely would never have been sane but for the board he so thoroughly dominated. For a period of a year, he so utterly crushed all comers that he might as well have played me and the result would have been similar to the greatest players of the day (I exaggerate of course, but if you aren’t enthralled by my hyperbolic cadence by now, you aren’t reading anyway. I am being arrogant of course, but if you aren’t enraptured by my egotistical rambling by now…).
Basically, I can’t write about the Yanks because the last time I did, they fell apart. But I don’t think the story of Bobby Fischer ever gets old. Some puling egomaniacal chess players of today will claim Fischer only won because of the fuss he created around matches. While this is probably absurd, it misses the point. Fischer was a whirlwind of chaos, and he had to deal with it just as his opponents’ did. Fischer was able to overcome everything else and simply win.
The mark of a champion is not upon those whose best is better than their best. You win because your worst is still good enough. At his peak, Fischer’s worst was better than even his opponent’s best. He overcame near-insanity, extremely skilled opponents, endless distractions and the freaking Cold War to dominate like no other.
To the thirty-fifth anniversary, here here,
The Sports Maunderer
Derek Jeter says the Yanks can catch the Sox, which everyone knows they can’t.
Talladega nights won the ESPY for best sports movie, which everyone knows sucks.
Dale Earnhardt Junior is going to replace Kyle Busch in Hendrick racing (probably the first NASCAR related factoid ever divulged on The Sports Maunderer), even though he stinks.
If only the world was as simple as in 1972. Back then, Americans were good guys, Russians were bad guys, and everyone else had to pick a side, rename itself Switzerland, or surrender (only one country chose the latter option, I’m sure you can guess which). Back then, no one had ever heard of steroids, and the Super Bowl was a new-fangled concoction of those dudes whose shoulders looked way too big. Movies were movies (and Al Pacino didn’t look dead), and Harry Potter had never been heard of (its too bad he isn’t dead).
In 1972, Bobby Fischer told the world he would win the World Chess Championship, though everyone knew the Russians always won. He then told the world he wouldn’t play because the cameras had to leave, and most people believed him. He was insane, after all.
He ended up not only playing but capping off one of the great stories of the 20th century. Bobby Fischer was a champion in every possible way; he was called a complainer, a crackpot, insane, reckless, and bordering on otherworldly. He was likely all of these things as well, but they do not diminish his greatness. Indeed, they were likely the reason for his greatness.
In the late 1950s and the 1960s, when Fischer was winning U.S. opens at the age of fourteen and beyond (he played in the U.S. Chess Championship eight times, and won each time), becoming the youngest grandmaster ever at sixteen, mesmerizing former world champions with his play and nearly disappearing on multifarious occasions, chess was hardly on the map of the world, except in the place that owned it: Russia.
Russian chess players were often seen as products of the communist system, and in the sense that Russia had a very good system for discovering and nurturing young chess talent, that was true. They were extremely varied in style and physiognomy, however, not all lining up as boring, mathematical, apathetic geniuses. The man who seemed to embody that saturnine, tedious verisimilitude did end up claiming the World Championship, however, in the form of Boris Spassky. He was the last in an impressively long line of Russian champions. Indeed, after Fischer, that line would start again and has maintained itself to this day. Since 1948, only three years have gone by where a Russian was not the world champion. So in case you haven’t gotten the picture, Russians are very, very good at chess.
So obviously when Fischer was in the midst of thwomping Spassky like a native American drum, the world was slightly interested. The entire career of America’s lone champion was worth discussing, though. It was, very simply, weird. It also contained the Sandy Koufax period of championship chess, and indeed that is a great injustice to Bobby Fischer’s play; not only was he better than Koufax in his prime, he never had a 4.00 ERA in his early career. Bobby Fischer was one of the great chess players of all time throughout his career. For a span of one or two years, he was far better than anyone else has ever been, possibly at anything.
To understand why ordinary people look at Bobby Fischer in a different light is to understand the obvious. He was calumnious, cranky, picky, quick-tempered—you never knew what vicissitudes of countenance he would showcase or what their effect would be. He was churlish, boorish, and in many ways simply a rude curmudgeon. If he had not played chess as well as he did, it is likely he would have been an ostracized crazy man.
To understand why chess players find Bobby Fischer interesting, one needs to understand that he did not simply win the world championship once and then disappear. Oh sure, he did that. But this man dominated tournaments like no one before him or after him has. He dominated match play against the world’s best like no one before him had or anyone after him likely will.
In high level tournaments, draws are inevitable. It is simply impossible to consistently outplay other grandmasters to the point of defeat over and over and over. For instance, a score of 7/12 (a win is one point, a draw is half a point, a loss is zero points) at a strong grandmaster invitational is considered a great outcome. The winner might be 7.5/12, if that. For perspective, 7.5/12 would likely mean a player scored four wins, one loss and seven draws. Draws are merely expected to outnumber decisions at such a level. In match play, where the same two opponents are facing each other repeatedly, draws are even more ubiquitous.
To illustrate the point: In Kasparov v. Karpov, the world championship match in 1981, the format was simple. First man to six wins claims the title, no matter how long it takes. After forty-eight games, the match was cancelled due to the absurd length of the match. Only eight decisions had been derived; forty of the matches were draws! In Kasparov v. Kramnik in 2000, Kramnik eked out a close victory in which Kasparov did not manage to win a single game. For reference, Kasparov is considered one of the best, if not the best player of all time by most pundits. He holds records for highest rating, duration of rating, and numerous other titles in addition to almost twenty years of being world champion. Yet he failed to win once. Instead, he racked up a ton of 1/2-1/2s.
So clearly, high level play is fraught with draws.
Bobby Fischer’s U.S. Open scores were : 1957-58: 10.5/13; 1958-59: 8.5/11; 1959-60: 9/11; 1960-61: 9/11; 1962-63: 8/11; 1963-64: 11/11; 1965-66: 8.5/11; 1966-67: 9.5/11.
Included rather innocently in that tiny diagram of domination is his impossible 1964 victory at the U.S. Open in which he won every game he played. He did not draw a single game. This is akin to a football team playing an entire season without even falling behind at any point in any game. As a player continues winning, it is the almost understood duty of each player who plays him to at least draw him. Yet they could not. Even with the black pieces (a common misconception is that black and white are equal in chess. They are not. A draw with black is more or less considered a good outcome at the highest levels), Fischer could not be touched.
And none of this takes away from his overall domination at the tournament from the age of fourteen and beyond. He played in eight U.S. Opens and lost three whole games out of ninety!
Well “so what?” you say, he was clearly the greatest American player ever. Indeed, so what. Never mind the fact that no player has dominated a tournament scene like that—what about the Russians?!
For the year leading up to his historic battle with Boris Spassky, Fischer put on a show like none other in the history of chess. To reach the position of world championship challenger, one had to first climb through a succession of zonal, interzonal and match play tournaments. After easily reaching the candidates matches (while posting scores of 19/22 and 15/17 in other, non-championship related tournaments), he played three of the greatest chess minds of the day. To say he extirpated them would be an understatement.
First, he played against Russian Mark Taimanov. Taimanov has an opening named after him, if you were curious as to his ability. Fischer won the match 6-0. Taimanov could not even draw him once. Towards the end of the match, Taimanov contracted a mysterious illness.
Second, Fischer played Bent Larsen, the strongest Danish grandmaster ever. Towards the end of another 6-0 rout, Larsen contracted a mysterious illness. It was dubbed “Fischer fever” and no one could really take it seriously other than an excuse to delay games towards the inevitable conclusion of the match.
The final opponent before Spassky: Tigran Petrosian, the former world champion, considered one of the three strongest players in the world. Petrosian finally offered a bit of resistance, managing a win in the second game and even the score. After a few draws, Fischer won again. Then, he won again. Petrosian was suddenly ill. Fischer finished him off with a four game winning streak. Fischer so dominated his opponents mentally and physically that they all complained of an ersatz illness.
After all, let us not forget it was Bobby Fischer. He never made a match easy. He complained about lighting, about chess sets, about chairs, etc. He would show up late to games, leave for extended periods of time, etc. He was perhaps the most difficult opponent to play in the world completely regardless of his ferocious ability on the board.
And he put his psychological warfare into full force with Boris Spassky. He first refused to attend his own match, then he arrived and refused to play because of the cameras and the spectators, then he forfeited the second game by not showing up. He had now played Boris Spassky seven times, won none, drawn three, lost four—one by forfeit. The world was beginning to think Fischer was as much of a poseur in chess as the French are in war.
But really, Spassky was doomed to lose. After agreeing to play in a back room away from cameras and spectators for the third game, Spassky finally broke and lost to Fischer. Over the course of the match, Fischer would relatively easily defeat Spassky. After grabbing a three point lead, Fischer was content to draw the rest of the games to eventually win by a score of 12.5-8.5 Bobby was the king of the world.
It would not stay that way for long.
It is often believed that chess drives men crazy. A wise man once denied that belief with the clever and indubitable line, “Chess does not drive normal men past the edge of sanity. Chess keeps insane men on the normal side.”
Nowhere was this expressed more visibly than with Fischer, whose disappearances, rants, hate and simply downright lunatic behavior since 1972 show a man who likely would never have been sane but for the board he so thoroughly dominated. For a period of a year, he so utterly crushed all comers that he might as well have played me and the result would have been similar to the greatest players of the day (I exaggerate of course, but if you aren’t enthralled by my hyperbolic cadence by now, you aren’t reading anyway. I am being arrogant of course, but if you aren’t enraptured by my egotistical rambling by now…).
Basically, I can’t write about the Yanks because the last time I did, they fell apart. But I don’t think the story of Bobby Fischer ever gets old. Some puling egomaniacal chess players of today will claim Fischer only won because of the fuss he created around matches. While this is probably absurd, it misses the point. Fischer was a whirlwind of chaos, and he had to deal with it just as his opponents’ did. Fischer was able to overcome everything else and simply win.
The mark of a champion is not upon those whose best is better than their best. You win because your worst is still good enough. At his peak, Fischer’s worst was better than even his opponent’s best. He overcame near-insanity, extremely skilled opponents, endless distractions and the freaking Cold War to dominate like no other.
To the thirty-fifth anniversary, here here,
The Sports Maunderer
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)