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.

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.