Derby Day is almost here. "The Fastest Two Minutes In Sports" or as we like to call it ... "The Only Two Minutes When Anybody Gets Excited About Horse Racing Anymore" ... is always a great show. From the rich ladies wearing UFO hats and Jackie O sunglasses to the bourbon-soaked infield party to the wild bump-and-grind of a 20-pack of frisky 3-year-olds going a mile and a quarter, the Kentucky Derby is grand theater bluegrass-style. Recession be damned, it's mint julep time. Anybody know how to make one ???
Just a hunch but New Orleans coach Byron Scott might want to update his resume. C'mon, it doesn't take a genius to see that Scott's lost his team. Game 4 says it all ... Nuggets 121, Hornets 63. Okay, so a 58 point loss ties the NBA record for worst ever playoff beatdown but sometimes a game gets out of hand, right ??? Try telling that to the home crowd. Yeah, that spankjob was down on the Pontchartrain. Folks, those are rollover minutes right there. Bon soir, Byron.
Man, I thought my teams were the only ones who went down hard in the playoffs. But the New Jersey Devils aren't my guys and yes, that was them with a one goal lead coughing up two late scores in a Game 7 honk to the Carolina Hurricanes at home in the swamps of Jersey. With all-time winningest goalie ever, Martin Brodeur, playing the role of collander for the Devs too. Ouch. Tough luck, guys. Time to break out your golf bags.
Are you ready to order ??? Yeah, I'll have whatever Zack Greinke is having.
Off we go into the wild blue yonder, climbing high into the ... catch fence. Yep, it's been 40 years since Talladega was built and NASCAR still can't keep cars from flying the friendly skies in that Alabama launch pad. This time it was Carl Edwards' turn to prove Bernoulli's Principle in a last lap furball that sent him airborne and seven fans to the infirmary last Sunday. Look, we know the gearheads love their "Big One" crashes and they do look "oooh" great on the tube. But someday somebody's gonna get killed. It's not the cars and it's not the drivers. And it's not the restrictor plates or the yellow line either. It's the track. Dig it up and slow it down. Git 'er done.
Here in Charlotte at this week's Quail Hollow Champeenship, Colts QB Peyton Manning teamed up with Tiger Woods in the Wednesday pro-am before the real golf got started. I like the pro-ams for two reasons ... One is it's fun to see the pros play with no pressure. Even better though is watching the ams play under real pressure not to look like, in this case, a quarterback playing golf. Apparently, Manning played just fine although Tiger had to explain to him several times that he couldn't audible his way out of that fried egg he left in the bunker on 18.
See ya next time.
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Equally entertaining (from my perspective) is to watch big name sports yuks haul down my way for the Quail Unlimited Celebrity Hunt. People with more money that sense pay large amounts of money to QU to hunt tame birds with sports memorabilia, errr, famous retired professional athletes. So far no one has been shot and most quail are dispatched by foxes, yotes and redtail hawks, the animal kingdom variety, I mean the animal kingdom variety that was not paid ungodly sums to ... never mind.
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