Monday, September 28, 2009

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 37

Spurious thoughts and idle musings from the world of sports ...

Terrell Owens said last week he'd like to be an actor after his football career is over. Allright, TO, let's see what kinda chops you got ... In this scene, I wanna see anger. Let's see how mad you can get. Really angry. Okay, quiet on the set and ... Action! Okay, cut. No, that's not quite it, TO. I need rage. Let me see furious. I'll tell you what ... Pretend I'm a quarterback who won't throw you the ball. Ready and ... Action! Cut! That's it! Perfect! Okay, TO, now I wanna see surprise. This time I'll throw you a pass but you drop it. This should be easy. You won't even have to act for this one.

Lakers F Lamar Odom got married over the weekend to reality TV star Khloe Kardashian. Way to be a team player, Lamar. You're the third best Laker and you married the third hottest Kardashian. Good job.

NFL Week 3 Notes ... Washington gave Detroit another bailout. The Titans (Jets) beat the Oilers (Titans). The Colts don't seem to be missing Tony Dungy very much. The Bengals finally beat the Steelers at home, the Dolphins are on their way to an impressive worst-to-first-to-worst season, the Browns are showing more fight in their locker room than on the field and Brett Favre showed us all just one more time why he's so much more enjoyable when he just shuts up and plays.

I really like and appreciate ESPN's impressive new online venture, ESPNBoston.com, a dedicated Web portal that nicely consolidates and organizes a variety of news and information concerning the Boston sports scene. It now makes it so much easier to ignore the variety of news and information concerning the Boston sports scene.

My Phillies, the defending World Series champs, are starring in a new movie, The Year of Lidging Dangerously, as last year's hero closer Brad Lidge continues to pour diesel fuel on this year's save situations. Listen, Brad, seriously, loved what you did last year. 48 saves in 48 attempts can't be topped. But you're blowing saves in the wrong city to be blowing anything in. There's still time since the Phils look safe for a playoff spot but you still might wanna call ahead and get a quote on a moving van. And ask for a fast one. Just in case.

So here's what we know after a month of college football ... Poodle Pete's SoCal Trojans honked their title shot. So did Okie State, Penn State, Cal and Ole Miss. Defending mythical champ Florida is chomping on cupcakes but looked beatable against mouthy Tennessee. Meanwhile, Michigan's got a 19-year-old true freshman, Tate Forcier, running around making storybook quarterback plays in the Big House. Just a hunch but I'm guessing the kid won't have a problem getting a bid to pledge a U-M frat. He probably won't do too bad at the U-M sororities either.

See ya next time.

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Wednesday, September 23, 2009

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 36

Spurious thoughts and idle musings from the world of sports ...

Most NFL teams fine players for all kinds of Mickey Mouse stuff. If you're five minutes late to a meeting or forget to wear a tie on the plane, next week's front office doughnuts are on you. Some teams though go the extra mile. After one player left his hotel room without paying for a $3 bottle of water, Cleveland Browns coach Eric Mangini fined him $1,701. He could've just deducted $3 from the player's next game check but instead Mangini carefully calculated the absolute maximum amount he could collect according to league rules. Way to build good chemistry there, coach. And way to get the league's first ever dry Gatorade bath if you ever do win a big game.

Actually, there's probably a better reason why Eric Mangini is cracking down on unpaid bottles of acqua. Seeing as how the league docked the ex-Jets coach 25 boxes of ziti for hiding Brett Favre's arm injury last year, the new Don in Cleveland must need to skim a little more vig from some of his big earners so he can make his nut and pay off New York. A fanabla.

After the double embarrassment of losing to Boise State and then suspending their star running back, the Oregon Ducks couldn't sink much lower. And now they're out $439 too. One unhappy Duck alum wrote a scathing letter to coach Chip Kelly and even included an invoice for his travel expenses up to Idaho. To which Kelly attached his personal check and sent it back. Honestly, I didn't think that would work but all right then ...

Dear Eagles, enclosed please find an invoice for eleventy three gazillion dollars to cover tickets, parking, tolls, gas, concessions and personal anguish with interest for coughing up that 23-0 lead with 8:27 to play in the 4th quarter and losing 28-23 to the Vikings at The Vet back on December 1, 1985. No, I haven't forgotten. There's no effing way Jaworski should've run that naked boot ... which he fumbled for one score ... and I still don't understand how Anthony Carter got behind the deep prevent twice for two more scores. Please make check payable to Section 719, Row 14, Seats 19-20. Thank you. P.S. Just in case you've forgotten ...

http://www.pro-football-reference.com/boxscores/198512010phi.htm

Dear New Cowboys Stadium, congratulations on setting an NFL regular season attendance record of 105,121 at your debut this past Sunday night against the Jints. We've been sitting that many college fans for decades and without 30,000 SRO's who couldn't see anything but stetsons and shoulders in every direction too. Best regards, Penn State Beaver Stadium, Michigan Stadium, Ohio State Stadium, Tennessee Neyland Stadium and Texas Longhorn Stadium.

NFL Week 2 Notes ... The J-E-T-S won Super Bowl 43 1/8th with a self-proclaimed epic regular season win over their hated rival Patriots. Tony Romo pretended the Pokes home opener was a playoff game. The Jagwires unveiled new home uniforms in front of old empty seats. Ray Lewis demonstrated just how easy it is to tackle a back when nobody blocks him. And Chad "Child, Please" Ochocinco did the Lambeau Leap right into a seething pit of Lambeau middle fingers. Straight up, yo.

See ya next time.
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Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 35

Spurious thoughts and idle musings from the world of sports ...

That was quite the slobberfest that broke out last week after Derek Jeter tied and then passed Lou Gehrig for most career hits as a New York Yankee. Jeter's new pinstripe record is 2,722 and counting. Let's see now, that's 1,178 fewer hits than Ty Cobb had with the Tigers, 908 fewer hits than Stan Musial had with the Cards and 697 fewer hits than Carl Yastrzemski had with the Red Sox. Nah, there wasn't any media hype over Jeter's new mark. Okay, maybe a little. I'm sure the fact Derek plays in New York is just a coincidence, right?

For his own personal safety, I wonder if Jamie Foxx is now rethinking that whole "Serena, let me be your tennis ball" thing. Look, I think Serena Williams is all that and a bag of chips. But she's gonna hafta take her lady lumps for nearly scaring that poor lineswoman half to death in the US Open semis against eventual champ Kim Clijsters. From the replay, it looked like a bad call but I wouldn't blame her if she never called another foot fault again in her life. Serena, please don't hurt me with that ball.

Speaking of tennis, that was a sweet upset win by Argentina's Juan Martin del Potro over 5-time defending US Open champ and tennis machine Roger Federer. And if you had unseeded comeback mommy Kim Clijsters and sixth-seeded del Potro in your US Open fantasy pool, I'd really like to sit down and have a talk with you. I got some lottery tickets here that need help.

Here's a nice little story ... For 43 years, Bob Fulton was South Carolina's "Voice of the Gamecocks". Fulton, who retired in 1995, is 88 now and recently spent two weeks in a physical rehab clinic after a fall at home. His roommate there, a fellow Gamecock fan, was blind and asked Bob if he could call the game on TV against NC State for him. And so he did. Just like old times. Pretty soon a crowd of nurses, visitors and other patients gathered around the set to listen to the legend. The Cocks won that game but Bob was discharged from the center before the next game, last Saturday's loss to No. 23 Georgia. Which is just as well, I suppose. Even a blind man could see that one coming.

Hi, honey, I'm home and I brought the pizza. Oh hi, Eric, what kind did you get? I can't say. It's a secret that I will reveal to the entire family just as we sit down to eat. Okay, Eric, that's fine, sweetie, but let me ask you something. Last week, you refused to announce your pick to start for the Browns at QB, Brady Quinn or Derek Anderson. Remember you said you wanted to keep the Vikings guessing right up until game time? Well, they didn't really care and I don't either. So just put whatever crappy pizza you got, Papa Johns or Pizza Hut, on the table and wash up. Thanks, honey.

NFL Week 1 Notes ... The Bungles bungled. The Dead$kins went right back to last place. The Lions did not win. Jake Delhomme imploded, exploded and deploded. The Cardinals fouled their nest. The Texans took another significant step toward 8-8. Jay Cutler showed he knows how to play quarterback for the Bears. Nobody cares about the Rams. And TO now understands what playing for the Bills is all about. In other words, not a whole helluva lot has changed in the Enn Eff Ell. Welcome back.

See ya next time.
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Thursday, September 10, 2009

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 34

Spurious thoughts and idle musings from the world of sports ...

How come home team fans always boo and yell "Balk!" when the opposing pitcher fakes a pickoff throw? Any time, any base, any move. If the bad guy fakes a throw, fans holler for the balk. Every time without fail. Has this ever worked? Has any paid professional umpire, in the recorded history of organized baseball, ever said to himself ... "You know what, these 35,000 fans, even the ones way up there in the cheap seats, can see this game much better than me and my fellow bluemen. They're right, that was a balk. Runners advance."

A group called Main Line Animal Rescue put an ad in the Washington Post this week offering to donate five bags of dog food to a local DC animal shelter for each time the Redskins sack Michael Vick during the Skins home game against the Iggles in October. Man, I love meaningless symbolic gestures like this. I mean, the dogs don't have a clue where dog food comes from, Vick certainly doesn't care and yet the animal lovers still have something to feel good about. Oh yeah, coming out, puppy needs a new bowl of food.

Here's a new rule Bill Maher-style ... New Rule: Stay away from any celebrity chick who changes her last name to a hard liquor. Yep, that means you, Shawne Merriman. I admit I don't know who Tila Tequila is but that name says all you need to know. I mean, if you just gotta hang with booze babes, try spending quality time with Betty Budweiser or Zoe Zinfandel instead. Those ladies typically don't get you arrested for battery and false imprisonment a week before the NFL season kicks off. Better yet, Shawne, have some Wendy Water or Paula Pepsi.

And speaking of Shawne, we need another new rule. There are too many athletes with too many different ways of spelling that name. Besides Merriman, there's gymnast Shawn Johnson, snowboarder Shaun White, hockey player Shean Donovan, Saints coach Sean Payton and an assortment of lesser known Shons, Seanns and Shaans. And then of course there's Angels 3B Chone Figgins. I'll admit when he first came up I thought it was "Chone" as in "phone" but n'uh-uh, Chone is a Sean. Or a Shaun. Or whatever.

Teenage sensation Melanie Oudin's upset run at the US Open ended in a quarterfinals loss to some Danish babe (bjabe?) but perhaps that's a good thing for the New York City hospitality industry. Seems Miss Oudin hadn't expected to make it as far as the Open's second week so her reservations at the Manhattan Marriott Marquis were for one week only. When they asked her to leave, she had to move to another hotel leaving embarrassed Marriott staffers with chicken embryos on their corporate faces. The lesson as always ... Don't count your check-ins before the match. Sorry, couldn't resist.

See ya next time.
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Friday, September 4, 2009

The Sports Noter, Version 1, Volume 1, Special Issue 1

Ten years ago, during Labor Day Weekend of September 1999, I took my family for a "little" drive. Here's the travel diary of that odyssey from the old Monday Morning Noter archives. Note: the quarterback for Michigan that day was a senior named Tom Brady. I think things have worked out pretty good for him. Enjoy ...

Tuesday, 7-Sep-1999

Last Wednesday morning on my drive in to work, Charlotte's local sports radio station WFNZ held an hour-long contest looking for the caller with the best sports road trip story. Winner to receive two tix on the 50-yard line at the Big House in Ann Arbor, MI for Saturday's clash between the Michigan Wolverines and the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. So, I flipped open my cell phone, punched in the number and within minutes was scoring points recounting an old 1978-79 New Years in New Orleans frat boy trip to see some Wahoo hoops and a national champeenship Sugar Bowl game.

Thought I had a decent chance to score the tix and indeed got the winning call about an hour or so later. Turns out the radio folks especially liked the part about drinking way too many hurricanes at Pat O'Brien's. Go figure. Anyway, now came the hard part. Here I am with two to-die-for football tickets and 600 miles of concrete between me and the seats. A quick call to USAirways confirmed that cheap flights to Detroit were already gone so it was either give them away, eat them or ... road trip. Tried giving them away but got no real serious takers although my brother-in-law, a rabid Golden Domer, just about slit his wrists when he had to turn 'em down. Didn't really wanna eat 'em so I called sweetie pie and little by little we maneuvered into one of those oh-what-the-hell decisions you remember the rest of your lives.

Road trip.

Kids were all bubbly when we clued them in Wednesday night and they immediately started negotiating trip accords. Thought I was in the middle of the UN Security Council. Somebody dealt away their Walkman usage rights in exchange for a solo backseat with pillow while somebody else took control of munchie maintenance in exchange for stuffed animal selection rights. Finally they got it all settled and each started packing their typical young girl's mountain of stuff. Barrettes and bows, polish for toes, swimsuits and shoelaces, diaries and jewel cases. George Carlin is right. Wherever we go, we have to bring our "stuff" with us.

Next day, Thursday, I stopped by the radio station to pick up the tix on my way to the Panthers' final pre-season game against New England. At the game, I got the idea to pick up a Panthers #21 Tshimanga Biakabutuka jersey for Becky, my middle daughter, to wear to the game. I figured since Biakabutuka is still a Michigan legend, his pro jersey would get her some friendly looks from Wolverine faithful. More on this idea later.

So, Friday comes and we pull the kids outta school about an hour early with designs on hitting the road about maybe 2:00 pm on our way to Michigan. Well, as you can guess, 2:00 pm became 4:30 pm in a hurry. Had to pick up this prescription, mail that bill, gas up here, drop off a video there and so on. We had a hotel room reserved in Ann Arbor for that night but there was no way we'd make it by that time. Especially since Charlotte holiday getaway rush hour was just about ready to crush any hopes of doing double digit speeds. By 6:00 pm, we were still in Mecklenburg County and we had no choice but to call the hotel and cancel the first night.

Thought we might be able to make central Ohio with the remaining driveable hours but NC DOT had other ideas as a massive I-77 construction makeover at the Virginia border jammed everything up for a solid 45 minutes. So West By God Virginia it would be for Night No. 1. Did see a lot of cars heading south on I-77 flying green Marshall flags on their way to Clemson to play the Tigers. That's an easy program to root for given their heart-warming rebuilding of their beloved Thundering Herd after that tragic 1970 plane crash.

Finally stopped around midnight at a little Holiday Inn Express a half hour west of Charleston, WV. Didn't get to see much of West Virginia in the dark but the mountain roads were pretty cool to drive on. Although there are some patches where the 70 mph speed limit is way too thrilling to tempt. That's a new experience ... Actually too timid to risk the posted speed limit. Weird.

Next day is game day and we still got six or more hours to go for a 3:30 pm kickoff so had to boot the brood outta bed early. Soon had everybody reseated, refueled and properly donutized and off we headed west to Ohio. In thick black bean soup fog. Along a single lane country road. But it burned off soon enough and within half an hour we were across the Ohio River and heading northeast towards Columbus and points beyond.

Ohio is a lot more beautiful than I had imagined. Acres and acres of flat but majestic farmland. Corn and soybeans for the most part but every little town has its own set of massive concrete grain silos. Bob Evans Restaurants every five miles or so and Marathon Oil gas stations in every little town. Made the beltway around Columbus in a little over 3 hours and then headed due north to Toledo. Went through a couple of great small towns ... Kenton, Dunkirk, Arlington ... along a single-lane state road. The kind of places you just know a hundred years ago used to have a Memorial Day parade every year to honor their surviving Civil War heroes.

And so after another hour or so, we came up on the home of the Mud Hens and started seeing signs for Ann Arbor. By my watch, we'd roll into town about two hours before kickoff. Plenty of time to grab some lunch, check in to our hotel and hop the shuttle to the game. And, luckily enough, that's exactly what happened. Before long, Becky and I were on the shuttle and we started getting pumped up for the big game.

And what an absolutely mind-boggling stadium ... Calling it huge is an understatement. Once we picked our jaws off the ground, we made our way to our seats and they were every bit as good as advertised. Fifty-yard line, 22 rows up right behind the Notre Dame bench. We were so close I even wondered if I'd need my trusty binoculars. But I did indeed take them out and I swear I could almost read lips in the huddle. Fans were rocking, joint was jumping, blimp was blimping, this was it.

Becky's Biakabutuka jersey was a big hit. All the fans around her smiled and shook her hand or patted her back. One young guy walked by, stopped, looked at her and said ... "Tshimanga. Cool." and then kept going. Michigan fans are extremely knowledgeable about their team and college football in general. It was a brand new experience for me to sit with fans who expect to win a national championship each and every season. And the place was absolutely jammed full. A new modern day NCAA record of 111,523 people in attendance. With at least one Virginia fan who sure cheered that 20-17 final score over the Tar Heels by God.

The game itself was intense. Momentum swings all day long with six lead changes. First, Michigan scored two quick FG's but their failure to score six seemed to energize Notre Dame who responded with a beautiful pitch reverse for a score to their little scatback Joey Getherall who was easily their most exciting player. Second quarter saw another U-M field goal and a Jarius Jackson keeper for another Irish touchdown as the half ended with Notre Dame up 14-9.

Second half saw the Wolverines tally 10 points to go up 19-14 but the Irish scored a gorgeous touchdown on a 4th down play-action pass to a wide open tight end with about 4 minutes to play. Then the game took a strange turn as the Irish scored a two-point conversion but took a 15 yard penalty for an excessive celebration call in the end zone. Bogus call but it gave U-M great kickoff field position. Then the Wolverines got another break when a late hit on a sideline pass play cost the Irish another 15 yards.

Finally, with a little over a minute to go, Michigan tailback Anthony Thomas bulled in from a yard out and the 26-22 final score was set although Notre Dame did end the game deep in Michigan territory but out of time and short of a first down. The Wolverines mobbed the field and the fans were dancing in their seats. Another great game in a great Midwest rivalry.

So, Becky and I slowly made our way out of the Big House and we stopped at a souvenir stand to pick up a Michigan T-shirt for her. I told her she could pick out anything she wanted provided I thought it looked good and wasn't too terribly expensive. The kid's got pretty good taste in clothes so I knew she'd pick something out that looked good. I just hoped it wouldn't bend my Amex card any more than it had already suffered.

But she came back from a shirt rack with a nice yellow one with blue "MICHIGAN" in block letters across the front. Nice, simple and classy. However, as she held it up, I noticed it was a long sleeve shirt so, forgetting where I was, I said to her ... "Becky, are you sure you want a long sleeve shirt ??? You won't be able to wear that until the winter, you know." And the lady standing next to me said ... "Oh, but that'll be here real soon." And with a smile, I gently turned and said to her ... "Not in Carolina it won't". And so we checked out, long sleeve shirt and all and pretty soon we were on the return shuttle for a hotel rendezvous with the rest of the family.

We pretty much crashed the rest of the evening in the hotel ... Kids went swimming and got all jiggy when we let them order room service which was surprisingly inexpensive. And so we all eventually turned in and caught a full night's worth of well-earned snooze.

And here came Sunday ... Canada Day on our itinerary. I knew as soon as we decided to make the trip that a quick jaunt into Windsor, Ontario was in order for Sunday. Kids thought that was just the coolest idea they'd ever heard. Ann Arbor is about 35-40 minutes away from Detroit so it was no biggie to cross the bridge and visit our northern neighbors for a spell. We found a delightful little park by the riverside and camped out there for a coupla hours watching the pleasure boats vie with the industrial freighters in the Detroit River connecting Lake Huron and Lake Erie. Nice cool breeze and not a cloud in the sky.

And so by mid-afternoon, we were ready to head back south. Crossed back over the river using the tunnel this time and had to negotiate a few inner city Detroit streets before we found I-75 again. Passed by Cobo and Joe Louis and Tiger Stadium ... which I did not realize was painted bright white on the outside. Within an hour, we were back in Toledo and seeing the same roads as the day before from the opposite direction. Back through Marysville, Columbus, Chillicothe, Gallipolis and on into West Virginia again.

Got up Monday morning and brought it on home. Same traffic mess at the VA-NC border but too tired to piss and moan about something we had no control over anyway. Rolled on into our SC driveway late afternoon and got all the required dog and cat welcome home greetings. One thousand, three hundred, eighty-one miles and seven-tenths. Four days. Two countries. Sixty minutes of pigskin heaven. Wallet stuffed full of Amex receipts. Feet sore. Kids pumped to tell their school pals about their weekend. Memories to last forever.

Maybe in twenty years I can use this road trip story to win another one.


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Wednesday, September 2, 2009

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 33

Spurious thoughts and idle musings from the world of sports ...

You know, I really can't think of a better way for ESPN eye candy Erin Andrews to put that awful hotel peephole incident behind her than an in-depth, exclusive appearance up next on Oprah. I mean, why should Erin keep her pain confined to just us sports fans when she can share the hurt with millions of Lt. General Winfrey's loyal troops, many of whom have never even heard of ESPN let alone Ms. Andrews. Clearly, this is the best way she can begin the healing process. Well, unless maybe a book deal or a movie pitch comes along. And if that doesn't work, she could just post the tape on YouTube and pray it does doesn't go viral. That'll give her closure, for sure.

Nice crackback block, Brett Favre. Did you forget the rule on illegal blocks behind the knees while you were {cough} retired? Ah, that's okay, don't worry about it. Besides, I think you're about to be reacquainted with it anyway.

Unable to find a new NFL team, famous bad boy Adam "Pacman" Jones signed a deal to play for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers of the CFL which still has ten weeks left in its season. Couple words of advice for Jones ... Get used to watching hockey. Lots and lots of hockey. Also, bacon is round up there and the national anthem is actually a pretty decent tune. The money is easy enough to figure out and Winnipeg speaks English so you're good there as well. Just be careful if you get invited to a beaver hunt. You might be disappointed if you're expecting your usual hangout.

Okay, first things first ... Every big time famous college football program violates the NCAA's silly rules on practice time limits. There's not one team out there that practices 20 hours or less per week like they're supposed to. Because if they did, they'd be an 0-12 lock and not a single NFL scout would call or write. But it takes a special program, the Michigan Wolverines, and a special coach, Rich Rodriguez, to provoke his players into self-reporting the violation. Think about that ... They hate him so much they actually complained about playing too much football. Nicely done, Coach. That's new ground.

How come surgeons who operate on athletes always say the surgery was a success? I mean, you never hear a jock doc come out of the operating room and say "Well, shoot, that didn't work. He's done." They always say everything went just fine with the patient expected to make a full recovery. Never a half recovery, always a full recovery. I swear if I ever need an operation, I'm gonna ask for a sports surgeon no matter what's wrong with me. I need my appendix removed? Fine, but I want a cutter who puts blown knees and shredded elbows back together, thanks.

See ya next time.
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