The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 2, Issue 2

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

One day many years ago, when my youngest sister was in grade school and doing her homework, she asked me how to spell the word "pneumonia".

Me: Oh, that's easy ... "p-n-e-u-" ...
Her: No, no, that can't be right. Don't tease me.
Me: But that really is how you spell "pneumonia" ... "p-n-e-u-" ...
Her: I don't believe you. No word starts with "p-n-e-u-". I'm gonna go get my dictionary.
Me: Go right ahead ......
Me: Well?
Her: I can't believe it. That doesn't make any sense at all. Who came up with that crazy idea?

Ladies and gentlemen, the New Orleans Saints are Super Bowl champions ... "p-n-e-u-"

Dear NFL, please I'm begging you. Enough with the geriatric halftime shows. Any act eligible for an AARP card should be ineligible for the Super Bowl. Look, I love The Who. They were the party band back in their glory days but that was 30+ years ago. It's time to get some younger bands out there. Hell, I'd rather watch an 'N Sync reunion over another geezer show. Oh wait, bad example. I forgot Justin Timberlake is on the bad boy list.

Daddy? Yes, Peyton, what is it, son? All the kids at school talk about you, Daddy. They say Archie Manning will never win a Super Bowl for the Saints. Gee, Peyton, the Saints are pretty bad right now so I guess it ain't looking too good for us. Well, when I grow up, I'm going to make it to the Super Bowl, Daddy. And when I'm there, I'm going to throw the pass that wins it for the Saints. I'm sure you will, son. Now go outside and play because Daddy has to go over this week's game plan against the Colts.

Super Bowl commercials were a mixed bag as usual. I loved the little kid who protected his mama and his salty, fatty corn chips. The Snickers spot ... more junk food ... with Betty White and Abe Vigoda was good too. And although the CareerBuilder ad featuring casual Fridays in underwear was funny, I'm not sure they realize people will do pretty much anything to keep their jobs these days. Hell, they'd probably watch The Who all over again ... In their underwear.

Boy, isn't it amazing what a great coach ol' Roy Williams is when his Tar Heel roster is all full of next year's shiny happy NBA draft picks? Almost as amazing as how sucky he is when it isn't. Welcome to the low rent district, coach. Say it loud, say it proud ... N-I-T.

The Vancouver Winter Olympics begin this weekend and, as usual, there are several compelling stories sandwiched in between breathless figure skating hysteria. Lindsey Vonn was on the verge of being the superstar skier no one will remember in two weeks. But because of a painful shin bruise, now she might be the superstar skier no one ever heard of. In other Lindsey news, Lindsey Jacobellis is back for another try at snowboard cross. Let's hope she leaves her hot dog moves back at the Village this time. Let the drug tests begin.

See ya next time.

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 27

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

NC State football coach Tom O'Brien complained about his team's schedule at last week's ACC pre-season mediapalooza. Seems he doesn't feel his Wolfpack should have to play rival North Carolina the week before the ACC Champeenship game. O'Brien thinks the title tilt should never be a rematch from the previous week and he wants the conference to make sure it can't happen. Not to worry, Tom. I think they've already figured out you and Butch Davis are gonna do that on your own.

Also noted at the ACC press gig, all 12 coaches expect big things from their teams this year. The kids have been working really hard and they've been giving it 110% in practice. If things go well, this could be a really special year for us. But there's a lot of football left to be played and we have a tough road ahead of us. There are a lot of good teams out there and that ball, you know, it takes some funny bounces sometimes so we're just going to play 'em one game at a time and let the chips fall where they may. The good Lord willing, I think we'll be all right.

Translation: We don't have a prayer. I told the AD I needed a private jet to recruit that hotshot running back but it wasn't in the budget. Also, unless my dadgum quarterback can pass remedial wood shop, I'm gonna hafta play the freshman back there and he only knows about six plays. Meanwhile, my All-American linebacker is sweating out a paternity suit, my kicker tore his ACL in a dorm prank and we open with three road games in a row against top 10 teams. I'll be lucky if I still have this job in December.

Okay, now that we know what put the "Big" in Big Papi, can we move on now? Or do we need to go through this faucet dripping torture one agonizing, steroid-using, fallen boyhood idol at a time? I think we get it now ... As long as all that big coin kept coming in, the Lords of Baseball blissfully looked the other way while the players, who treated their butts like pin cushions, took a dump on the holy record books while we watched in naive wonder. Message received. Everyone was juiced and nobody cared. Let's move on. Um, who's pitching tonight?

Wait a minute, the ESPN X Games are 15 years old? Man, that's a helluva long time for a manufactured niche event like that. Hell, the Chinese have gymnasts younger than the X Games. No doubt I'll celebrate XG15 by skipping it like every other year but I'll tell you what I would be tempted to watch ... The Special X Games. Oh come on, you know you just giggled.

See ya next time.