The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 45

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

All right, I'll admit it, I have no idea who Manny Pacquiao is. Hell, I had never heard of Miguel Cotto either. It would seem though that Mr Pacquiao picked a bad time to be born because the good old days of boxing are just that. We used to be on a last name-only basis with the best fighters ... Ali, Frazier, Foreman, Leonard, Duran, Hagler, Hearns and so on. And then I guess around Mike Tyson's time, we switched back to first and last names ... Evander Holyfield, Lennox Lewis, Oscar de la Hoya ... I mean, even Foreman was George Foreman when he made his grill-selling comeback. We need last name boxers again. And ones that don't require spell check would be nice too.

Did you see the handball that French football star Thierry Henry used to rob hose bone beat Ireland in last week's World Cup qualifier? Wow, now we know where the baseball umps get their training. Anyway, Henry's bogus play is now being called "Hand of God II" ... Note: In French, that would be "Le Hand of God II" ... in reference to Diego Maradona's legendary original handjob that led Argentina over England in the 86 World Cup. You know, you gotta hand it (groan) to soccer for coming up with much better names for their all-time plays. No one ever lays down the Bunt of Doom or shoots the Free Throw of Agony or scores on the 65 Toss Power Trap of Peril. And maybe they should.

According to SI's most recent "Sign of the Apocalypse" note, a Japanese lingerie company is selling a new bra that unrolls to form a 5-foot putting mat. Personally, I prefer the 6-foot model although any length is fine provided it's got good cup size. No truth to the rumor though that Kevin Costner is now in talks with the company to reprise his Roy McAvoy role in a sequel called ... wait for it ... "Tin Cups".

I'm probably gonna regret this but of all the so-called minor sports, nothing in my opinion is more pointless than women's college basketball. All college sports have their own self-fulfilling recruiting imbalances ... The best football players always choose one of the big heavies like Florida, Texas, Southern Cal, Ohio State and so on. Likewise, the best lacrosse players go to Hopkins, Syracuse, Virginia and a few others. But if you're on a chick hoops team other than UConn or maybe Tennessee, you might as well be on the Washington Generals. And you better get used to hearing "Sweet Georgia Brown" play while you're at it.

Rest in peace, Abe Pollin.

See ya next time.

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 44

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

Last Sunday, as the Saints offense started to get rolling in the second half against my Panthers, former Ravens bossman Brian Billick, who was doing the color commentary, said ... "Now we're finally going to see New Orleans show us The Full Monty". Unquote. And I thought to myself ... Um, he either saw a completely different movie or I'm about to change this channel real quick.

Got an e-mail from Amazon this morning. It read ... We've noticed that customers who have purchased 2008 Philadelphia Phillies: The Official World Series Film have also purchased 2009 World Series Highlights on DVD. You can now pre-order yours at a savings of $5.00 off by following the link below ... click on Reply ... Dear Amazon, we've noticed that customers who have purchased stuff from Amazon have also purchased stuff from Borders and Barnes & Noble. You can now pre-bite me at a savings of $5.00 off by following the link below.

I have a theory about Bengals WR Chad "Ya Doesn't Have To Call Me Johnson" Ochocinco. I think the NFL secretly loves his antics and can't wait to see what he does next. Chad's latest stunt took place last week against Baltimore when he offered a $1 bill to a ref during a replay challenge. On Friday, he was fined $20,000 for attempting to "bribe" the official but I still think the league doesn't mind all that much. I mean, 20 large buys a lotta coffee packs, juice bottles and microwave popcorn back at Park Avenue headquarters.

Does anyone know why Raiders coach Tom Cable still has a job? I mean, first he broke an assistant coach's jaw during a training camp spat. Then he was accused by not one but two women, his first wife and a former girlfriend, of physical abuse which delighted the ladies at NOW, the National Organization for Women, so much they want Cable suspended right NOW. Meanwhile, he's 2-6 this year and 6-14 overall. QB JaMarcus Russell is a massive bust, the other players are either playing poorly or bitching about not playing poorly and the only one having a great season is the punter. And yet, Tom Cable is still not collecting unemployment. Must be nice.

Uh-oh, Cleveland, this is not good. The Cavs' ubersuperdupermegastar LeBron James says he'll switch from wearing No. 23 to No. 6 next season as a tribute to Michael Jordan. Ah, but what James doesn't say is exactly whose No. 6 he'll be wearing. LBJ is eligible for unrestricted free agency next summer and desperate teams (Hi, Knicks!) have been clearing huge swathes of cap space just for him. So next year, either every kid in Cleveland will be bugging mom for a new Cavaliers "JAMES 6" jersey or every kid in some other NBA city will be. Enjoy the rest of the year, Cleveland.

See ya next time.

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 43

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

Hats off to the New York Yankees for their ... What was it? Oh yeah ... their 27th World Series title. They deserved it. They beat my beloved Phillies fair and square. I just have one small little gripe though. I really don't mind the whole $ thing. The Yankees have more coin than God and they spend it. Good for them. But please, can we stop with all the drama about their guts and glory and overcoming adversity and nobody believed in us and such? There are no Rudy's in the New York dugout. When you're supposed to win a world champeenship, it's just a job well done. Well done.

Speaking of Rudy, let's do a little comparison shopping, shall we? Notre Dame, Stanford and Northwestern are all prestigious private schools with superb academic reputations and long lists of successful alumni. Notre Dame, however, is the only one of the three with a historic and legendary, nationally-followed, Hollywood-adored football program. So will the school that beat a Top 10 team last weekend while not honking at home to a service academy, please take one step forward ... All right, Stanford ... Okay, Northwestern ... Wait, not so fast there, Irish.

Final score ... Twitter 1, Larry Johnson 0.

Did you see where San Antonio guard Manu Ginobili swatted a stray bat out of the air during the Spurs' Halloween home game? As the other players scattered, the little fellow flew around the court until Manu snagged him and carried him away. Of course, no good deed goes unpunished cause the Argentine star now has to get rabies shots to make sure he's okay. No truth to the rumor Ginobili also lives in a stately manor and drives an illegal but seriously cool, rocket-powered car while keeping a fictitious city safe from a cackling maniac in bad makeup using nothing more than a beltful of wonderful toys.

NFL Week 9 notes ... The Bengals look like they're maybe kinda sorta for real while Duh Bears most definitely do not. The Jints are in a serious swoon while the Titans are out of theirs courtesy of putting Kerry Collins back in mothballs in favor of Vince "I'll Try Not To Pout This Time" Young. Meanwhile, them Saints keep finding interesting ways to win and the Iggles keep finding interesting ways not to. The Dead$kins are truly awful and that oughta keep the deliciously sour quotes from perturbed ex-Skin John Riggins still coming. And finally, the Bucs ended their long winless streak after reverting to their old comical Bucco Bruce creamsicle unis. Nicely done, Bucs, and let me say this ... You looked *fabulous*.

See ya next time.

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 42

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

Boy, it sure was quiet at times in new Yankee Stadium during the World Series this week. You'd think by now owners would've figured out that higher ticket prices mean lower decibels. Also, I really don't understand why they ditched the old Yankee Stadium, the self-proclaimed "Cathedral of Baseball". I mean, you'll never hear the Pope say the Vatican needs a spiffy new St Peter's with club seats and valet parking, right? Seems like that $1.2 billion coulda gone a long way toward sprucing up the old church. Not to mention keeping Yankee fans in full-throated roar.

Hello, you have reached Gary Bettman, commissioner of the NHL. I'm sorry but I can't come to the phone right now. Press 1 if you'd like to pretty please buy the Phoenix Coyotes. Press 2 if you'd like to broadcast our games and your cable channel isn't up there like at 206 or something. Press 3 if you still don't understand the icing rule. And if you're Wayne Gretzky, just leave a message at the beep and I'll get back to you whenever I come up with a good reason why we don't want you anymore. Because clearly all my business decisions have been perfect and I just don't need the game's greatest scorer and one of its most decorated stars of all time involved in the sport. Beep.

Wow, what are the odds that the cast of a hit show on FOX like Glee would sing the national anthem before a World Series game on FOX? Probably about the same as the baseball umpires blowing still more crucial calls. Boy, are they having a tough time of it this post-season. As it is, disgraced ex-NBA ref Tim Donaghy is probably sitting there in his jail cell wondering why he didn't like baseball more.

Excerpts from retired tennis star Andre Agassi's new autobiography were released this week and in it Andre admits he likes warm milk and cookies before bedtime, listens to Pat Boone records and that 15 minutes can indeed save you 15% or more on your car insurance. Nah, what Andre really said is his father was a royal pain in the racket, his classic early-90's puffy mullet was actually a hairpiece and he lied his way out of a failed crystal meth drug test. Wait, what? A fake mullet? Oh no, say it ain't so, Andre.

See ya next time.

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 41

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

It takes a very special organization, one almost totally devoid of football talent and imagination, to make Terrell Owens irrelevant to all but the most desperate fantasy owners. Ladies and gentlemen, your Buffalo Bills. Golf clap.

Philadelphia police on Tuesday arrested Susan Finkelstein, 43, a devoted Phillies fan in way more ways than one, on prostitution charges for offering her, um, "services" on Craigslist in exchange for coveted World Series tickets. She was nabbed after describing her "offer" in detail to the undercover officer who answered the ad. Susan, Susan, Susan, you got it all wrong, girl. First you get the tickets ... Then you negotiate the price. Priorities, my dear, priorities.

Speaking of naughtiness, what in the worldwide leader of sports is going on at ESPN? Former Met GM Steve Phillips lost his baseball analyst gig this week after a 22-year-old production assistant he'd had a fling with went all Glenn Close on him. Don't worry, no bunnies got boiled. Just a routine stalking. Also in the last few years, Rich Eisen, Sean Salisbury and Harold Reynolds each got tangled up in various and sundry steamy scandals. Hell, at the rate they're getting some in Bristol, I wouldn't be surprised if www.espnxxx.com will be up and running soon.

Hey, is a Bronx Cheer redundant if it's in The Bronx?

Whoever came up with the idea of sending New England over to England is a genius on two levels. One, thank you for putting the Patriots on a plane and getting them out of the country for a week. Let Fleet Street slobber all over Tom Brady for a change and give us all a much-needed break. But more importantly, I can't think of a better "away" team to send back to Merry Old than the Pats. You know, just to remind them ... again ... who won that little intrasquad scrimmage back in 1776. Hopefully somewhere, wherever he is, King George III is muttering to himself ... Sod it all, I should have sent more redcoats over there and taught those cheeky colonies some proper manners.

Dear Charlie Manuel, I like your decision to start Pedro Martinez in Game 2 of the World Series at Yankee Stadium. Just one small piece of advice though ... Don't leave him in too long. Your friend, Grady Little.

One last nudge nudge wink wink item ... Some of the Tampa Bay Lightning players admitted this week they sometimes play a game after practice they call "naked shootout". Yep, that's right, the players take turns trying to make penalty shots and if you miss, you hafta lose a piece of practice gear until you make one. Apparently one day recently, Martin St Louis lost his jersey, arm pads, leg pads, leggings and even his skates before he finally put a biscuit in the basket. You know, there might be a few sports that could work if played in the buff. I mean, the ancient Greeks were masters of that idea. But ice hockey is definitely not one of them. Hell, I don't even want to think about 2:00 minutes for slashing. No, thank you.

See ya next time.

Footnote: She is going to get her World Series tickets after all. A local Philadelphia radio station says they've invited Susan Finkelstein to go on air where they'll present her with tickets ... and with no strings attached either. Wait, what? You mean it worked? Hard to believe, Harry.

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 40

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

With just half a mile to go in Sunday's Des Moines Marathon, Simon Sawe had a comfortable 10-second lead over fellow Kenyan David Tuwei. And then he didn't. And then the third-place runner caught up too ... All thanks to an Iowa freight train that apparently didn't get the memo. Good news is Sawe still won the race with a sprint to the finish once the train had passed. Bad news is nobody bothered to tell the runners this was just a ... wait for it ... training exercise. Ooh, rim shot!

The New Jersey Nets are offering a fun new promotion this NBA season called "Your Ticket To A Player". For just a mere $25,000, you get four courtside seats, free food and drinks plus parking for 10 home games. But that's not all ... You also get one (1) hour with the Nets player of your choice. He can come to your birthday party or an office social or even your kid's Bar Mitzvah, whatever you want. Me personally, I got some ceiling fans I need dusted plus some light bulbs to change.

In other hoops news, looks like the Detroit Shock are moving to Tulsa. Fine, whatever. But take a close look at the AP news item where this story first broke ...

The WNBA's Detroit Shock are moving to Tulsa, OK, a team official told The Associated Press. The official spoke on the condition of anonymity Monday because he was not authorized to make the announcement ...

What the hell does that mean? If you're not authorized to make the announcement, then why are you making the announcement? You see this all the time and nobody ever seems to suffer for it. You never hear later on that Team So-and-So fired Joe Schmoe because Joe leaked something he shouldn't have. And why all the secrecy? I mean, it's the WNBA where "We Got Next" apparently now applies to cities, not just games. Look, the Shock is either moving to Tulsa or it's not. When did chick hoops become a spy novel?

In a Week 16 game last year, Tennessee beat Pittsburgh to run their record to an NFL best 13-2. After the game though, several Titans celebrated by stomping on a Steeler Terrible Towel. They haven't won since and that includes last week's humiliating 59-0 skunkjob by the Patriots. In 2005, the Bengals did likewise and they tanked too. So is there a Curse of the Towel going on here? I dunno but I propose a rigorous scientific experiment ... First, rip up all the carpet in the visitor's locker room. Same goes for the walkway leading to Heinz Field. And then pull up all the turf on the opponent's sideline too. And then replace everything with towels. Hundreds and hundreds of Terrible Towels. Towels everywhere. And then let's see what happens.

Check this 12-year-old kid out. The dream of a lifetime ...



See ya next time.

The Sports Noter, Version 4, Volume 1, Issue 39

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

A 70-year-old golfer recently lost his arm when he reached into a pond for his ball at a Beaufort, SC golf course and a 10-foot alligator attacked him. No truth to the rumor the one-armed duffer will now mentor an SNL comedian in a Bruins jersey who uses an unorthodox hockey slapshot off the tee but gets his ass kicked by an octogenarian game show host. Of course, if that doesn't work out, he could always captain an imaginary pirate ship against a motley gang of displaced orphan boys.

This is the second year in a row the Dodgers and my beloved Phillies have met in the NLCS. They also met back in 1977 and 78. Larry Bowa played shortstop for the Phils back then. I loved Larry Bowa. Larry Bowa is now the third base coach for the Dodgers. I hate Larry Bowa. Davey Lopes played second base for the Dodgers back then. I hated Davey Lopes. Davey Lopes is now the first base coach for the Phillies. I love Davey Lopes. Jerry Seinfeld is right ... We cheer for laundry.

Note to NASCAR ... When you scrapped the old Cup series points system six years ago for the new playoff-style Chase for the Championship, you said it was cause race fans were bored with the lack of suspense down the stretch. Well, Jimmie Johnson is almost a mortal lock now to win his fourth straight Chase title. Keep up the good work on the crashes and all the nitpicky rules violations. Those are still great fun but the suspense problem is still a little loose in the turns.

Good morning, Coach Jim Zorn's office, may I ask who's calling? Jim, it's Coors Light on the phone. They want to know when you'd like to audition for one of their TV commercials featuring former NFL head coaches giving mock press conferences. Um, yes, hello again, sorry to keep you waiting ... Coach Zorn says the Redskins haven't fired him yet so he doesn't know what you're talking about. Yes, I can put you on hold.

More NASCAR ... Here in Charlotte this week, the inaugural class for the new Hall of Fame was announced. Richard Petty and Dale Earnhardt were gimmes. So was Bill France Sr, the George Halas-type founding father of stock car racing. His son, Bill France Jr, also made it for his work in exploding NASCAR onto the national scene. But my favorite choice, of course, is Junior Johnson, the old legendary backroads moonshiner who ruled the early days. No matter how many California surf gods or Indiana farm boys make their way down South, racin's roots will always be whiskey, tobacky, fried chicken bones and a basket of warm hush puppies. Mmm, pups.

See ya next time.