And now for a meaningful topic

I suppose it could be fun to continue arguing about what a bunch of whiny bitches Pats fans are, but I said everything that needed to be said in my first and only post on the subject.

However, there's no limit to what I can say about the wave of unabated rage that washed over me while reading this feature on the life and times of Jerramy Stevens, perhaps the single worst person in the history of sports, non-murderer division (we think).

Stevens is pure scum, to be sure, and it's a shame that he's not the kind of person we're torturing in GITMO right now. But he was far from the only criminal to play a role in his sub-human behavior, a point that might be missed by many who read that completely dispiriting (but very well researched and written) story. And, as far as I'm concerned, Rick Neuheisel is as complicit in Stevens' crimes as the man himself. Yes, I realize Slick Rick wasn't the only coach to enable Stevens, but the decision to actually discipline Stevens for a procession of rape, DUI, hit-and-runs and assaults rested on his and former AD Barbara Hedges' shoulders. Hedges was a stupid, opportunistic bitch, for sure, but it is Neuheisel that personifies the college head coach who is pure evil.

And it's only a matter of time before the next horror story presents itself at UCLA, now that they've hired Neuheisel.

I can almost understand a middling program, both athletically and academically, like Arizona State taking a chance on Dennis Erickson. I realize that some people involved in the administration of college athletics think the wages of winning is dealing with despotic coaches who don't believe in discipline for players unless they drop passes. But at least ASU's "reputation" is already that of a sketchy, outlaw program that hasn't leveraged its willingness to trash the school's image into actual success on the field. Erickson only represents a small uptick in trashiness over the dreck that program has run through its halls, and it's clear that the administration will allow him to run everything as he sees fit now that he's already delivered them a top-25 finish and some serious face time on College Gameday.

But UCLA is not Arizona State; they're not even on the same planet. UCLA is supposed to be a beacon of hope for cynics, a superior academic institution that also happens to house the most successful athletic program in the history of college sports. It wasn't that long ago that pathological rules violator Bob Toledo was run out of Westwood, and while his firing was ostensibly the result of poor on-field performance, the athletic department didn't exactly deny that the coach's reputation as a snake was a factor as well. The Bruins have long gravy-trained the good name of legend John Wooden, who managed to dominate the college hoops landscape without soiling the institution's good name. In fact, there's good reason to believe that UCLA's vaunted status as an academic institution has been bolstered by the successes of the basketball program and the rest of the academic department.

But USC's success under Pete Carroll — who, thanks to Reggie Bush, is no longer unscathed by scandal himself — has obviously convinced the higher-ups at UCLA that valuing character in the upper-reaches of its football program comes with too high a cost; it only took one truly disappointing season on the part of erstwhile coach Karl Dorrell (who seemed like a swell guy) for him to get shit-canned, a decision made with such apparent haste in large part because Neuhesiel was available.

As an Arizona partisan who watched UCLA's football program destroy the Wildcats' best chance at a Rose Bowl in 1998, I will revel in schadenfreude when Neuheisel inevitably begins to destroy the Bruins' reputation (who will give me 100-1 odds on UCLA getting the NCAA death penalty in the next 10 years?). But as a fan of college sports, I'm disheartened to see that it's easier to break out of Alcatraz than it is to convince university presidents and athletic directors to concern themselves with character.

Addendum: The Times followed up the Stevens piece with another piece on Curtis Williams, another horrible former Husky who actually received the death he so richly deserved after (ironically) a dirty hit on the field. And then, to top it all off, b found some fucking UW blogger says he's still on the fence about UW erecting a statue in that fucking wife-beater's honor! Man, it's days like this that make me wish we had colonized Mars already.

Allow Me To Retort!!

Well said, Diesel. Touche, mon frere! You and larry b bring up a solid point vis-a-vis the whole "this is just what happens in sports, man" angle. You're right about that: too bad this truth is wrapped in such a load of fermenting, tired bunk.



Since there is no way that I am going to win a word-volume/quality battle with my main man here, I'll just stick to what I know: concise, metered, and rational thought.


You are wrong. So very wrong.


See what I did there? I totally ended this argument!


I do, however, suppose that there is another way of proving your wrongness. And that would probably be to point out all of the contradictions, inconsistencies, and just plain imagination in your post. I don't have all night, so I'll limit myself to three. Namely, the following three:

1. Bill Belichick is a pompous asshat:

For someone who claims to be concerned 'only with results' in this game called life, Diesel seems to be pretty hung up on guys who are big meanies whilst doing their job to perfection. He isn't the only one who feels this way; for anyone who bothers to put the words "Bill Belichick asshole" into Google will find that there is a veritable plethora of those all too eager to point out that the man is a dick. Here, I'll do it for you. I treat this the same way I treat the maligning of another Bill....One Mr. Duane Charles Parcells.

Um, who the fuck cares about his personality? He gets the job done, yes? Don't tell me that you were one of those neocons calling for the impeachment and removal from office of Bill Clinton due to his threadbare moral fiber being a 'blight' on the nation. Barry Bonds is an asshole, too. Is he a blight on the MLB because of it? I'm sure you would be much happier if the NFL were populated entirely of Andy Reid's clones (I hear he is really nice to the press). Perhaps if ol' Belichick dressed a little more like Jack Del Rio, you wouldn't be so harsh on him.

To expound on the Bonds/Belichick comparisons addressed in the footnote: Diesel is quick to point out the double standard with which the press treats both gentlemen not 4 inches after maligning one of them for reasons having little if anything to do with the NFL (bad dress, terse press conferences, et al). Hey, pot, this is the kettle; um, you're black.

Spygate: I have yet to come across any conclusive evidence that coach Belichick had violated any NFL rule related to signal stealing during any other post-preseason football contest this year, so to suggest such is pretty weaksauce. Also, there is no way that he could've violated this 'rule' prior to 2006, because the rule/memo/whatever the fuck you want to call it didn't exist. And it is still unclear as to whether it exists today. It is not even certain that what Belichick did even constituted 'cheating' anyway. Please, people, come harder on this one.


2. Randy Moss and the fawning sports media:

If Diesel is suggesting that the media is somehow eschewing the recent battery charges against Randy Moss, then he and I aren't reading the same papers.

I believe that what Diesel and so many other Pats haters (I wish there was a better term, Pepe, I need an editor) suffer from is what some clinical psychologists like to call "batshit crazy". The purported 'fellatio by the media' that occurs on a regular basis is typically no more than, you know, reporting the fucking news. A headline stating that the Patriots have won their 18th game, broken another record, or traveled one more step toward perfection is not tantamount to a blowjob, it is a cold, hard fact. Maybe Diesel can prove otherwise, but I don't think anyone is giving Moss a pass on anything, as Randy has been rather curt with the media throughout his career and hasn't exactly made any friends on the sports beat. But, one would ask, where does this 'fawning' perception emanate from? Allow me to present a one-act play representing a day in the life a your run-of-the-mill Patriots disliker:
_____________________________________________________________

Open Curtain:
Jerkoff Pats hater sits in front of his television, foaming at the mouth after eating soggy rat intestine. Jim Nantz and Phill Simms comment on the game:

Jim Nantz: "Wow, Phil, that is Moss's 23rd TD reception of the year, a new NFL record!"

Phil Simmmms: "That's right, Jim. 23 TD catches is a pretty amazing feat in the sport of football; something upon which everyone can agree is universally awesome."

*Jim Nantz: "You know, Phil, I think that this means that Randy should be able to slap whichever bitch he damn well pleases!"

*Phil Simms: "Word."

Jerkoff Pats hater grits teeth and grumbles "Fucking sports media."
Close Curtain

Please note that the asterisk denotes dialogue that happened entirely within our protagonist's spite-addled brain.
_____________________________________________________________


3. Diesel's assertion that this is something that concerns the Patriots players themselves:

Huh? Well, maybe Tedy Bruschi, but c'mon, the man had a stroke. Plus, he's a UA alum!

4. (OK, I lied) Diesel's repetition of the "Everybody wants the Patriots to win!!" meme:

Really!? Everybody?! I'm probably the only Patriots fan that you know. I'm one of only two Patriots fans that I fucking know. I sit here as the only Pats supporter in a 20-mile radius, and I have to hear that mess?!! It's pretty clear that you have not been to KSK or Deadspin, lately (great blogs, btw), lest you may have borne witness to the ubiquitous, 'Pats fans are assholes and racists, LOLZ!1!' every three coddamn comments. How about the bounty on Tom Brady's leg? For every Bill Plashke and Bill Simmons out there, there are 20 dubious doubters on the 'boards. This has come up before, and it never fails to vex me. Does anyone who reads this blog actually want the Pats to win this Sunday?

So much for everybody.

Say Hello to my Little Cliché!

I know it's been the question TGWNA readers have been constantly asking themselves.

"What the fuck does it take to compel Diesel to actually write a post anymore?"

Good question, friends.
/Jim Nantz voice

Well, here's an easy answer: Play the fucking "respect" card.

I realize that Big C's mini-rant w/r/t the Patriots did not actually involve the word "respect," but he and I both know that it wasn't for a lack of intimation. His entire post dripped of so much respect-baiting that it shorted my computer's power supply when I read it.

I'll be more than willing to say that what the Patriots have done to this point in the season is one of the more impressive team sports accomplishments of my lifetime, ranking alongside Arsenal's undefeated 2003-04 campaign in the English Premier League, the Yankees' 1998 season, the Red Sox's comeback against the Yanks in 2004, and the Chicago Bulls' 1995-96 season. And I'm willing to say that with or without a win in the Super Bowl, since I'm not very concerned with worrying about whether or not this Pats team is the greatest in the history of the sport (while I can see why others are into this argument, the lack of objective reference points makes it simply a point of conjecture ... there is no way to properly compare football across eras, as far as I know).

That said, the Patriots as currently constituted, are a blight on the NFL. Their coach, a brilliant tactician for sure, is also a cheating boor who believes — like too many transcendent sports figures — that his talent and ability allow him to exist in a realm where condescension and surliness are acceptable characteristics for a public figure (see footnote). The team's star wide receiver is probably a sociopath who has the audacity to claim that the fawning sports media is somehow out to paint him as something he is not, when he has received more free passes for intolerable behavior both on and off the field during his career than all but a select few peers, regardless of sport. And the team as a whole has copped the same, tired "us against the world" shit pretty much since the beginning of its multi-year run of league domination, despite the fact that it's clear the world has been anything but against them for quite some time. My love of Leonard Cohen aside, I prefer my entertainers to be a little less monotone, and those who claim persecution to have an actual basis for the accusation.

As for the fans, what can be said about them that hasn't already been said about paranoid schizophrenics off their medication? I remember, faintly, being somewhat satisfied when the Patriots beat the despicable Rams in Superbowl XXXVI, and when the Sox mounted sports' most improbable comeback against the Yankees. But those days are long gone, and any conception of New England-area fans as somehow being "lovable" seem ridiculous now. When people ask me why I really don't have steadfast affiliations with teams any longer, I point to the guy in the Red Sox hat who acts in precisely the same manner as his "hated" Yankees cohorts. I am loathe to be associated, in any form, with the type of person who believes that the justifiable reaction to a win by his favorite team is to try and start a fight in the bar with all the "haters."

I could probably slag on the Pats and Pats fans for another 1,000 words (who am I kidding? I could probably do it for 10,000 more words), but it's neither important nor original at this point. What I'm wondering — and this isn't rhetorical, Big C — is who the fuck cares what anyone says about the Patriots? Why does a superlative team of accomplished veterans feel the need to trot out the stupid "bulletin board" shit that bad high school coaches have relied on for decades? Why do the fans require the acquiescence of all those in attendance every time "his" team's supermodel-impregnating quarterback continues to prove he's worthy of the plaudits handed out with alarming frequency by analysts? Since when did anything matter to the fans of a team more than on-field success? Do you really need a fucking hug in addition to your fourth Superbowl win?

I've long considered a need for constant affirmation to be a sign of weakness, particularly on the part of men. Those who claim to be dedicated to any cause should lack a need for approval. Those who claim to be better than others shouldn't need those others to admit as much, particularly when there are organized and regulated contests at hand to allow for some objective measure of the claim. And those who are claim millions to ply their trade shouldn't allow themselves — at least publicly — to admit that they still require more in the way of appreciation to feel like they've truly accomplished something.

The Patriots, and their fans, have come to embody everything that makes sports and its fans appear so puerile. The real "haters" are the scores of right-minded people who see the sociology of sports as a disturbing and collective softening of brains. Here we are debating the level of respect given to whiny, spoiled athletes and an equally whiny and spoiled fanbase that somehow thinks its entitled to some modicum of special treatment they've never afforded to others (lest we forget the "Jeter Swallows" shirts that have been extremely popular in the uncomfortable seats of Fenway for some time). I'm all for a good sports debate, even if it doesn't adhere to the same strict intellectual rigor I attempt to apply to arguments of outside interests. Hell, I'm even fine with some good, old-fashioned mindless taunting, as evidenced by my ownership of a "Jesus Hates the Yankees" shirt. Sports are a diversion, if not an opportunity for those of us no longer blessed with more than a geriatrics's range of motion to live and play vicariously through athletes. And fandom is an opportunity to identify one's self with a specific group, for the purposes of pride and differentiation. I do not begrudge anyone his or her rooting interests, nor the success(es) of his or her favorite team(s).

But it will be a cold day in hell before I think there's any reason to give the Patriots special consideration because they're excellent at football. I will not tip my cap, genuflect at the altar of Belicheck, or condemn representatives of the '72 Dolphins for sounding like perspectiveless brats when dissing another group of perspectiveless brats. I will simply hope that whomever coaches the Bills will adopt some of Belicheck's strategic approach without acquiring his willingness to be a reprehensible asshole, and proceed to beat the ever-loving shit out of that franchise for the next decade.

Yes, I do hate the Patriots, because they and their fans make me extremely aware of what a base pursuit being a fan of sports is, and what kind of company one should expect to keep if he wants to watch football in a bar on Sundays. I hate that sports writers have cheapened the word "genius" in the process of reporting on Belicheck. I hate the idea that Randy Moss is being given a relative free pass on a serious charge because commentators are more concerned with how this issue might effect the team than the individuals involved in the alleged assault. I hate the fact that every time Tom Brady has an irregular stool it leads ESPN.com.

But, more than anything, I hate all the "respect" talk. And if that makes me a bad sports fan, or whatever, then I'll happily take my sour grapes home with me and dine with Mercury Morris.

# # #

Footnote: Bill Belicheck is a cheater; I don't think this point is arguable. Despite his, and Big C's, claim that the camera issue isn't worth talking about any longer, it still constitutes a breach of NFL rules and was clearly carried out to gain a material advantage in an otherwise fair contest. Furthermore, while Belicheck was only caught cheating during the Jets game, it's entirely likely that he had cheated in that same fashion during other contests.

Belicheck is also a Grade-A son of a bitch. He is the very image of a modern-day athletic megalomaniac, right down to his unwillingness to abide the most basic rules of the league that's made him famous, as evidenced by his violating the league's standards for coaching attire and his constant fucking around with the injury report.

Barry Bonds is all of these things as well: Cheater, flouter of the rules, son of a bitch.

The main difference is how the men are perceived: Bonds as a pariah, Belicheck as a genius with flaws. The prime example of this double-standard is the way Bob Costas, one of the most respected figures in the sports media, approaches the two men. When the subject is Bonds, Costas can barely disguise his contempt. When the subject is Belicheck, however, Costas chooses to focus on the coach's accomplishments and overlook his personality deficiencies.

I don't really care to examine why this double-standard exists, only to point out that it does and is further proof that the Patriots are given an easier ride than most N.E. fans would have you believe, particularly by the media.

Mr. Morris, I implore you.....

I was going to write a little bipolar, happy/angry ditty about how great my impending $600 'economic stimulus package' is, juxtaposed with how utterly horrible it is to be a single, kid-less taxpayer in this country. That gem is probably best saved for that potentially life-ending moment in which I find out what the actual damage is on tax day.

Instead, I just want to lay out a few quick things about this article.

In the interest of disclosure, I'll state up front that I am a staunch Patriots fan. Use this to assume whatever you want about me; about half of it is probably true, anyway. I make no apologies for liking my own second-favorite team and being pleased with their success this season. While I'm not the trendy, sycophantic, bandwagon-fan that you'd probably like to label me as, I am also not one of those spineless, cocksucking twits that pulls the whole 'All other Pats fans are jerks, and I am ashamed of them; but I'm not like that!' routine on the message boards.

With that said, I'm well within my rights to treat this whole Don Shula/Mercury Morris shit talking cavalcade as an affront to my beloved Pats (how dare I be happy for them, by the way?) and lash out at said asshats accordingly. Instead, as a fan of the NFL and lover of all things good and decent, I'll take the high road on this one and issue the following request: Mr. Shula, Mr. Morris, Mr. Kuechenberg, and all other New England Haters: Please, I beseech you, enough with the shrill, baseless, and absolutely moronic 'criticism' of the best team in NFL history. Particularly in the cases of Shula and Morris, who seem to be intelligent, virtuous people in all other regards, I suggest that you change into a fresh pair of diapers and endeavor to retain whatever dignity you have left after all of this drama has subsided. Don Shula has, until now, come across as a generous, wise, old sage. And Mercury Morris would probably be someone that I would really admire were it not for all of this senility-induced drivel.

Is it really that difficult for all of the Pats' detractors out there (and they have been legion) to just sack up, show a little class, and tip your hat to one of the best performances hitherto witnessed in American sports? The sad, hateful, and now entirely indefensible head-burying display being put forth by the anti-Patriots movement is no longer amusing or relevant. To hear the phrase 'Patriots suck' is to hear a cry for help. And I just dare someone to bring up Spygate.

This doesn't mean that there aren't other legitimate claims to the 'Best-Season-Ever' crown. Some have brought up the '85 Bears. OK. Others have, a bit less convincingly, nebulously mentioned 'those early nineties 49ers teams'. Perhaps. But one thing is made pretty clear in Kriegel's article: it sure as hell ain't the '72 Dolphins.

Which brings me to the reason that I brought the topic up on this blog to begin with: Is there any stat/metric/method extant for comparing teams through the eras that aren't just a collage of faint, childhood impressions? I know that VORP, OPS+-!^2%$#, and park-factors are popular grist on this blog, and I am curious to see if any such logic, or a species thereof, may be helpful in a sport that doesn't make me fall asleep faster than a bottle of NyQuil. It will probably be the only real productive thing to come out of a post that will likely cause me to be flamed harder than a Birmingham church.

Oh well, we all have our crosses to bear.

Paying for proficiency, and other shitty ideas.

Hello, 'BlogWorld!

I've decided to emerge from beneath the shadowy depths of the comments section to actually contribute to what has been for quite some time now my favorite blog. I don't intend to clutter the format, so I'll keep Formula 1 debates, NHL issues, and physics talk to a minimum. I also don't intend to adhere to the rules of proper English grammar, as I am a not a prescriptive grammarian (I am, actually, but I'll blame my foibles on the fact that I'm an engineer). I'll mostly post on sports/sociopolitical issues like my man Diesel, but since we are in the midst of the Super Bowl doldrums, I'll opine on the Learn-and-Earn program being experimented on in a Georgia public school.

My initial thought on the story is that this is a total mistake. It is important to note that this is a privately funded program and does not necessarily concern my public tax dollars; so there's no need to sound the fiscal alarm. But it is also critical to understand that this is a program that essentially rewards incompetence and devalues hard work and self-determination. It's like that Simpsons episode where Homer discovers that he needn't use his own legs '..like a sucker' (Sorry, no link, YouTube sucks these days).

Christ, this is the last thing that our beleaguered public schools need. Why don't they just put up a billboard on campus that states, 'Fuck up, and you get a cookie!'? I have a hard time believing that anyone is blind to the inherent disincentivization of self-directed learning and scholastic performance that such a program will cause. The program, which I will from this point refer to as 'student welfare', incorporates all of the negative properties of government-controlled welfare and filters out any virtue that food-stamp welfare may have. In other words, students that really need the help (dyslexic, autistic, and otherwise mentally challenged), already have programs to help them along. This program will only go to those students who are lazy and defiant enough to hold out for cash. It's like these students are holding our average test scores and grades hostage, and won't improve them until they get a helicopter, a million in unmarked bills, and a free pass out of town.

Meanwhile, students who actually make a coddamn effort on their own are implicitly told to go fuck themselves. Great. And I don't buy the 'Some of these students are in economically disadvantaged positions that impede scholastic performance' BS; if a student needs tutoring, they can get it on their own time and the public dime, anyway. And it's not as if high school is that hard to begin with; where I'm from (Arizona), it's actually sort of a joke. Just like this cockamamie program. Like Diesel put so eloquently a couple of posts ago: What the hell am I missing here?

___________________________________________________________

Since that last bit was so rock-solid and bulletproof; something to which no rational being could possibly disagree, I'll offer up a few parting shots not worthy of a post themselves.

1. Beyonce has fatty legs:

Don't get me wrong, she is one hell of a beautiful woman, but, honestly, case closed.

2. Macbook Air: Does anyone actually give a flying fuck? Thinner than the average laptop computer, you say? Well, halle-fucking-lujah, that will save me a whopping inch, maybe one and a half, in my briefcase! And all I have to surrender are vital components? Woo-hoo! Perhaps they'll make another one of those asinine commercials that points out the fact that Mac guy is thinner (and less functional) than PC guy. Take that, PC guy!

3. Nothing. There is no third thing.

Mr. Miller will have a word with you now, Lance

The current flavor of the month for the media right now — when they're not too busy mocking Congress for doing what the excessive media coverage of the Mitchell Report encouraged Congress to do in the first place — is asking ballplayers what they think about steroids, testing, and the future of America's erstwhile back-acne-free youth. Theoretically, there's no problem with the media doing this, since I can't imagine there are many better topics for reporters to ask ballplayers in an offseason. However, the reality of the situation is that when a player is evasive or wishes not to comment, the writer has the power to make it appear that the player's motivation for his recalcitrance is more sinister than simple — and advisable — discretion. On the other hand, honest/loudmouth players who spout off create a serious problem when it comes to that player's union maintaining a unified front.

Lance Berkman is an example of the latter. He's been full of self-aggrandizing chatter this offseason, reaching his zenith with this whopper when asked about his willingness to offer a blood sample for an HGH screen, even though a reliable test has yet to be created:

"Absolutely, there's no question," he said. "I think anybody that wouldn't submit to that has something to hide."

I suppose Berkman deserves plaudits for offering up his sangre so freely, but his taking it a step further and casting suspicion on any player who's a little less trusting when it comes to his bodily fluids is a breach. I would like to think that when spring training rolls around, one of his savvier teammates will pull him aside and ask him, politely, to keep his fucking mouth shut when it comes to other players' business.

But, more importantly, it got me to wondering if we would be reading comments like these were the union's leadership made of stronger stuff. I realize that at one point in time, MLBPA honcho Donald Fehr was seen as being a strong rep for the players, but it's clear that his appearances in front of Congress have turned him into a pussycat, relatively speaking. Marvin Miller, the man most responsible for the union's power at the bargaining table, probably would have informed players at the outset of Mitchell's investigation that breaking rank would result in being stranded by the union the next time that player found itself in hot water. And that's the way it should be.

Comments like those offered by Berkman move the onus on the players, and the players alone, when it comes to handling the steroid issue. And while our proud Rice grad might think it's a black-and-white issue — players shouldn't do steroids, period — responsibility for PED use in baseball has proven to be anything but clear. It's imperative that the administrative and ownership arms of baseball not be allowed to wriggle it's way off the hook if we're going to talk about the past. And, in terms of the future, a strong union is the only thing that can prevent PED testing from turning into a complete farce, because the owners will be more than happy to set up a rigged system if it means that they won't be pushed in front of the cameras again. Every time someone like Berkman opens his trap, it makes it more difficult for Fehr or his successor to hold strong against the lopsided demands of ownership that are sure to come during the next collective bargaining negotiation.

# # #

Here's an awesome interview with a very awesome baseball writer who took a pass on voting for the Hall of Fame this year (hat tip to Rob Neyer).

A Confederacy of Dunces

Does this picture startle you? It scares the shit out of me. A face like this shouldn't be ubiquitous unless it's on the front of a box of oatmeal, should it? I don't think so. But apparently our intrepid representatives in D.C. think so, because Mitchell was back on his bully pulpit Tuesday, only it was on the taxpayer's dime as opposed to baseball's. Mind you, taxpayers have subsidized the latter to such a degree that it's irrelevant to distinguish between the two parties at this point.

I appreciate that Mitchell might have been at a loss for something to do now that he's both saved Ireland and saved the children of America from the dangers of improved bat speed, but a full congressional hearing seems like a bit of a reach for this particular workaholic. Perhaps I'm the only person standing in this particular line of thought, but the Mitchell Report felt a little light after the initial mediajaculation w/r/t the list of names. I'm not particularly interested in getting back into the particulars here, but suffice to say I can't imagine what on earth made Congress think that enough had changed post-report that a brand-new hearing needed to happen. And after reading Jayson Stark's live blog, I have no more of an idea than I did before.

What strikes me as interesting, though, is that these kinds of media circuses continue to take place. It's facile to say that politicians simply enjoy grandstanding, though that not to say it isn't true. However, politicians often act in accordance with maximum utility in mind; they rarely continue doing things that don't play well with constituents (at least not publicly), because nothing is more important than the next election for most career politicians. If you're to accept those premises, then clearly politicians have concluded things like the steroid hearings play well to the public and make them appear more ... congressional?

Despite its supposed status as a true marketplace of ideas — the ideal newspapers long claimed to represent despite the obviousness of that industry's inability to juggle unabridged honesty and the need to attract advertising — it appears the sports department of the blogosphere has adopted the same kind of ideological rigidity and hegemony that we often accuse the sports media of having. I can find nary a good sports blog that hasn't expressed some measure of outrage over these congressional hearings, not to mention fatigue over the steroid issue in general. If we're to believe that sports blogs represent the "common man's" outlook on sports, then one would think the Henry Waxmans of the world would take the hint and stop interrogating Donald Fehr. But they haven't, which leads me to believe that we're all missing something here in the blogosphere.

It might be a reach, but I see this as analogous to Ron Paul's run for the Republican nomination. If the primaries were held on the internet, Paul would win in a landslide not seen since the last time Fidel Castro held an "election." The momentum his campaign has generated on the internet — not to mention the insane outpouring of campaign contributions that is composed almost entirely of small donations counted in the low hundreds — would lead one to believe that Paul is not only a viable candidate (he's almost certainly not, which causes me no small amount of sadness) but that his ideas really hold water with a large percentage of the American populace.

Such must be the same with steroids in baseball. The interweb cognoscenti has thrown up its hands and said that we're all tired of it, but obviously has miscalulated exactly who the "royal we" in this case represents. Leeches don't affix themselves to corpses, only bodies that still pump blood; the fact that the U.S. Congress is still involved indicates that the heart of the steroid issue is still pumping. Now, it's just a matter of figuring out why, and perhaps in the process discovering if maybe we're the ones who are missing something.

I realize there's no point to this, but I just felt like riffing.

J'accuse!

Contrary to what some might believe, I did not also quit the blog. I did, however, spend a week getting drunk in Laughlin and San Francisco and attending a wedding that threatens to undermine the sanctity of all that is good and pure in America (in a power outage, no less!), so I really haven't had the desire or opportunity to post something.

And, frankly, I don't know that I really have anything to write about right now. It's been a very boring stretch for sports lately, with the worst bowl season in recent memory, some fairly uninspiring NFL action, and the baseball world dominated by Roger Clemens' intrepid water-muddying name-clearing bonanza. As of right now, Clemens has now sued the trainer after the trainer threatened to sue Clemens if the 60 Minutes interview involved Clemens calling the trainer a liar. Shyster's doing a very good job of keeping track of all the shenanigans, and unlike myself he actually knows what he's talking about when it comes to the law.

If you're still willing to read anything more about Clemens and steroids, allow me to suggest Gary Huckabee's fantastic rant on BP.

B, feel free to pick up the pieces here.

It must be nice to be T-Pain

A few weeks ago, I posted in the comments section about an interesting piece I’d heard on NPR about how T-Pain was selling more ringtones than actual song downloads or CD sales, but it got lost amongst childish sniping on said comments section.

The music industry is, in a word, bizarre. It’s an age where Radiohead can sell a non-label-backed album for whatever price the consumer chooses, yet still be among the top illegally downloaded (ie free) albums. Even Jay-Z pulled his latest album, American Gangster, off iTunes because iTunes wanted to sell his concept album as individual singles.

But this T-Pain story just kills me. In short, the guy who has done “Buy U a Drink (Shawty Snappin’),” “I’m N Luv (Wit a Stripper)” and “Bartender” has now become the model of a music industry once-anomaly by being more successful in ringtones than he is in actual music sales. Sales have shown that consumers are four and five times more likely to download a 15-second clip of one of his songs at $2.99 and up than they are to download the entire song on iTunes for $0.99. Ringtone sales make up to 40% of record labels’ revenue today.

Stumped, but envious, of his success, those in the music industry found that his robotic, effect-laden voice actually sounded better on crappy cellphone speakers than it did over better speakers. To capitalize on a certain song’s success and to extend its shelf life, the record companies introduced special “ringtone remixes.” Therefore, buying a 15-second clip was, in addition to making a statement about yourself, actually a better bang for your buck. T-Pain’s guest appearances on far more commercially successful artists’ – Kanye and Chris Brown, to name two – were almost certainly done to help generate more ringtone sales, since the two mentioned artists are having no trouble selling their singles and albums on iTunes. In effect, T-Pain has become the first “Ringtone Artist.” Mos Def said the industry was “a better-built cell-block.” For T-Pain, it’s a better-built luxury cruise liner.

His sales and this story are both staggering, but before we anoint T-Pain as a revolutionary, it must be said that he’s capitalizing on a fairly new idea. If ringtones were around in the 60s, then you’d have to believe his numbers couldn’t be compared to The Beatles’.

Another good/fine (no, not that fine) example of this would be Mariah Carey’s (non-Christmas) top selling songs on iTunes – they are all from her most recent album. It’s not, say, Hero or Dreamlover, two songs that helped her become the biggest-selling artist of the 1990s. Just because a song is downloaded a lot today doesn’t mean it’s any more popular; rather, it’s just more readily available. The beauty of iTunes is that I don’t have to even put on pants and, bang, the new Lupe Fiasco album is on my computer. But people who love Mariah Carey already have all her CDs and don’t need to download them again on iTunes – even though iTunes and record execs would love you to. The Emancipation of Mimi sold ‘only’ 10 million copies thanks to a depressed CD-buying market, but had the benefit of extra digital sources to buy from that Mariah didn’t have the advantage of back then.

Still, to believe iTunes, you’d think her latest was the greatest – and be denying a significant period of non-digital history ever happened.

An open letter to Pepe and Diesel

Dear Pepe and Diesel,

Psssst.. Come on back. It’s okay. I’ll even make the first move. Things will be good again, I swear. Ever since I took over the reigns at McKale Center in Tucson, the Arizona basketball team has become infinitely more likeable – by being everything Arizona is not.

Sure, we don’t have that freakishly gifted athlete that we can call on in the clutch to go up and slam home a put-back, sweeping the crowd off its feet, forcing our opponent to call a time out and letting our pep band belt out a couple verses of “Moondance.”

And, okay, we’re not particularly all that exciting to watch. Our offensive style is more UCLA and Washington State than it is Kentucky in the mid-90s or the Wildcats you’re used to. Aesthetics-wise, we’re a better fit for the Big East or Big Ten. But, you see, this is the way the Pac-10 is going, and it’s not necessarily a bad thing – we’re playing in arguably the best or second-best conference in all of college basketball right now. We plan on winning it again soon.

And, I know, our uniforms look different now. Our shorts look weird, they’re lacking trim and the ‘CATS’ is placed far too high up the sides, and our jerseys have an unnecessary and distracting stripe down the back sides, but just look past all that for a moment.

Because, you know what? I think, despite the lack of high-flying, fast-break basketball that made Arizona so appealing in the first place, you’re going to love us again. It may not happen overnight, and you may find some of our games ugly and choppy, but we’d love to have you on board again.

I know you’re tired of the Purdues and Seton Halls beating your more talented teams, and so am I. Perhaps more worryingly, you’re tired of us having too many assholes that are difficult to root for, like Marcus Williams and Chris Rodgers, and not enough true student-athletes to be proud of. And I know you may have had poor relations with Shakes and found him to be too under-achieving at times and too hasty towards the fans and media.

But I’m working on all of that, trust me. I really am. You think Chase Budinger will get a big head and pull a classic Arizona ‘phenom that doesn’t achieve all of his potential,’ like Williams or Hassan Adams? That’s not going to happen. I tell him every day that, with hard work, someday he’ll perhaps have the opportunity to be a good player in Europe. Jerryd Bayless is one of my favorite players to coach, but until he handles the ball better, he’s headed there too.

Plus, I don’t appeal to the crowd and all their “We want Bagga!” chanting. Hell, I’m dumbfounded as to why Daniel Dillon got a near-standing ovation when he entered the game last week! I’m going to make these kids earn their playing time and you can be damn well sure that they’ll play hard – or else I’ll threaten to cancel their Christmas, like I did last week.

The biggest difference between me and Shakes is our personalities, which is perhaps my biggest selling point to you. Face it, fellas, I’m you. I watch basketball, make funny and outrageous statements and have a few drinks – when was the last time you saw Shakes in the same local establishment you frequented? My weekly radio show has become a must-listen to simply because I don’t hold anything back. When asked if watching 17-18 basketball game films every day helps me become a better coach, I interrupted the interviewer and told him you’d be an “absolute psychopath!” if you didn’t. During a recent press conference, a media member’s phone rang, and I (semi-) jokingly fined him $500 or pro-rated it to his pay. When was the last time Shakes did any of that?

Finally, I think what I’m doing here is pretty significant. Already this season, we’ve battled against two teams that have far superior size and talent to us – Kansas and Texas A&M – and we beat A&M in one of the best environments I’ve seen at McKale in years. We went to Chicago and beat Illinois using our toughness, something Sean Singletary has been poking fun at us about for years. (An aside, Who the fuck is Sean Singletary anyway?)

Saturday night, we’re taking on a very, very talented team in Memphis – think A&M, but better. I’d appreciate it if you tuned in and checked us out. We may not win, but we may not lose, either. There’s a new king in town, and you’d have to be a complete moron like Laval Lucas-Perry if you didn’t see this thing out with me.

Love,

Kevin O’Neill
XOXO

One wonders how many Mets fans can actually spell "xenophobia"

Newsflash: Mets fans think Omar Minaya's signing too many brown people Latin Americans

Why, just last week I attended a reception where one man, knowing I'd written a book about the Mets, approached me and said, "I still love the team, and Livan Hernandez wouldn't hurt. But how about adding an American or two?"

I mean, really? How about adding an American or two? It's official: I can't say things in sports rarely surprise me anymore, because I find myself being surprised an awful lot these days. And this, in so many ways, takes the cake.

How about adding an American or two?

I won't both pointing out the 12,000 incorrect assumptions being made by the Mets fans Pearlman cites. What's the point? There is no logical rationale for this kind of belief, so to argue with it is kind of like arguing with someone about their favorite color. And, frankly, I think we're all a little naive to think that there aren't more baseball fans who feel this way about black and hispanic players, fans who hearken back to the days when the game's best players were predominantly mustachioed white dudes with mullets and "blue collar" values. They feel a disconnect with today's non-white superstars, who appear more aloof and self-centered and lazy and cornrowed. And David Eckstein isn't lazy, they say to themselves; people need to write about Eckstein more, not overrated guys like Hanley Ramirez, over whom national columnists can't stop fawning.

According to Pearlman, the non-tendering of Paul LoDuca, a PED-fueled and philandering clubhouse cancer has served as the proverbial "last straw" for a lot of these bigots fans. One would think that a rabid fan base hungry to upstage the Yankees would embrace the casting off of an overpaid, underperforming asshole, but the fact that he's white and a loudmouth apparently means "character" to fans, and implicit in that is that LoDuca's non-white replacement is incapable of being a fiery leader.

Ever since Minaya got the Mets' GM job, there's been a lot made of his being hispanic. In a vacuum, there's nothing wrong with both acknowledging the novelty of seeing a non-white face in upper-level baseball administration, particularly since Minaya was (I believe) the first hispanic GM in the sport's history. When Carlos Delgado was a free agent a few years back, a lot was made of Minaya's effort to use his ethnicity — and, to a degree, the ethnic composition of the Mets' locker room — to draw Delgado to the team. If I remember correctly, Delgado bristled at Minaya's efforts and decided to sign with the Marlins, which resulted in a little bit of blowback for Minaya. But I never understood why people were upset by Minaya's gambit. Why wouldn't you try and use every available resource to land someone you desperately want? And who's really offended by the fact that Minaya might want to use the fact that he speaks spanish as a hopeful mark in the Mets' favor? Does some shine come off a contract that isn't negotiated exclusively in english?

But it's starting to make sense, now. Apparently, it's not racist if you're talking about hispanics, and it's not racist if you can couch it in positive terms ("We just want to see more Americans!") instead of negative ones ("Stop signing the brown people!").

I realize there's a danger implicit in drawing general conclusions from individual situations, but I can't help but think that Mets fans are the only ones who feel this way about the globalization of America's past time.

Blog-to-Blog Resuscitation

Today, it’s Three Guys Who Never Agree, as Pepe and Diesel have so graciously allowed me to enter their space for a college football discussion. A But what about the kids?? Part II, if you will…

Much discussion, amongst the media and amongst me and my friends and family, the last few days has centered on the latest round of the college football carousel, which has lost all kind of control ever since Tommy Bowden left his undefeated Tulane squad between the final regular season and bowl game. Ironically, Rich Rodriguez was his offensive coordinator then, and he has recently done the same, this time leaving West Virginia, his alma mater, for Michigan. Another non-stop discussion on the radio dial has been Atlanta’s Bobby Petrino “quitting” on his team “in the middle of the season,” which implies there was more than the actual three games remaining of a wash-out season. Because we apparently have nothing else to listen to, and it’s football, blowhards nationwide have overreacted to both of these instances, calling these men “quitters,” “traitors” and, perhaps most comically, “guys I wouldn’t want my son to play for.”

In my best Chris Rock voice, Can we please cut the fucking shit already?

An annoyance I have is our continual holding of athletes to a higher standard than everyone else, even though, time and time again, we are reminded of how idiotic this is. It’s now crept into us holding coaches to higher standards, as if these “leaders of men” are any different. We’re avoiding the idea that coaches, just like us simpletons, want to max out their potential and have the best possible life, just like we hope to. The only difference is their window to do that is exponentially smaller than ours, based on simple time frames, pressure and short attention spans.

Plenty has been said about Bobby Petrino, so it would be redundant for me to bring them all up here – these mainly center on the outside influences that destroyed the season before it began for Atlanta, an average to slightly above average team at best heading into the season if none of those things happened in the first place. Is it wrong for Bobby Petrino to leave Atlanta during the season to head for Arkansas? Perhaps, but it’s not necessarily his fault – if he wants to move to Arkansas, he has to get started right away. By staying for those three final NFL games to see out the season, he would have lost at least one season in Fayetteville, all because of the NCAA’s reluctance to push National Signing Day, which is the root of all the December coaching changes, back a little bit.

The gap between the end of the regular season and the bowl games is too precious to lose when going after those final pieces to the recruiting class, so schools like Michigan and Arkansas have their hands forced into “stealing” other teams’ coaches while the season is still going on. It’s the same reason why Arizona had to go and get Mike Stoops, even though he was the defensive coordinator in a national championship race at the time. But that’s the business timeline the NCAA has set up. The NBA doesn’t open the free agent market on May 1st for a reason, yet college football wants everything signed and sealed by February 6th with battles taking place well before that. Teams don’t have any time to lose.

Football, college and pro (and, who are we kidding, high school), is business - a fact that everyone acknowledges but fails to understand. Everybody thinks they can contend for a national championship, even though it’s proven every year that it is arguably the hardest goal to accomplish in team sports. There are far too many obstacles to overcome and, unlike the NFL, there are no equal playing fields when it comes to competitive advantages and disadvantages.

Which brings me to Rodriguez, who’s become the latest “traitor” on the paving the path to a successful career in coaching football. Nobody bats an eye when an assistant coach, who has a far closer relationship to players than the head coach and is often the one making promises, leaves to take another job, yet we all get up in arms when the head coach moves to greener pastures.

Whether you think Rodriguez’s career move is great or deplorable, you have to understand that the timing of his decision was neither his nor Michigan’s fault. College football has the longest offseason in sports, yet there’s little breathing room between the end of this season and the beginning of next. In fact, they overlap, and the loser in most cases is the end of this season, because next year, of course, is the year we win it all!

But what about the kids? they always say. Seems like one set of them is going to be neglected either way. They should be expecting it by now - it’s the nature of the beast for college football hires to be handled like this. But it doesn’t have to be, does it?

Yes, George, What about the kids?

The money-shot has, finally, been delivered in Bud Selig's two-year-long steroid porno. We've read the Mitchell Report — or allowed Deadspin to point out the most interesting sections — and we've seen the tedious press conferences by the author and the benefactor, who should have at least held hands at some point for posterity's sake. We may have witnessed the moment Roger Clemens, considered by some to be the greatest pitcher in the history of the game, became the next sure-fire Hall-of-Famer to see his shot at Cooperstown go down the shitter (it should go without saying that if Clemens isn't disqualified after the Mitchell Report, then Mark McGwire should be giving another nationally televised speech in the next couple of years, during which he can again not talk about the past). And we've become intimately familiar with the next wave of steroid scapegoats, a marvelous cross-section of baseball players that doesn't discriminate based on talent or active playing status.

None of this has made me care any more about steroid use than I did before, a position that's apparently quite popular if one is to believe that internet pundits and comment-writers constitute an accurate sample of sports fans. Yes, of course, I would prefer to follow sports without the knowledge that the men involved are actively partaking in sado-masochism to better entertain me and bolster their personal finances. But I've also never thought "fair-play" was an option in sports, and I take bemused pity on anyone naive enough to think that such a fantasy is attainable. I find it hard to believe that members of a society unable to convince people to stop murdering — even with the threat of the ultimate punishment looming should one take a life — thinks that any testing policy will significantly negate the desire to cheat, not to mention stop cheating among even a majority of those who have done so in the past. That doesn't mean you don't ban and constantly improve testing measures, it just means that you must accept the existence of impropriety in athletics just as you do in all other walks of life. It is enough to state unequivocally that cheating is wrong — something baseball didn't do until a few years ago — clearly state the punishment for cheating, and hope that you've convinced the fence-sitters that it's probably a better bet to drink a little more Red Bull and quit staying up so late before day games.

(Side note 1: Please, everyone, stop saying the "Steroid Era" — as obnoxious and sanctimonious a label as any in the history of sports — is actually over. Steroids haven't gone anywhere. Steroid users haven't gone anywhere. Steroids are still being taken by baseball players, maybe even a lot of baseball players. The horse is out of the motherfucking barn; this isn't like the "Cracker Era" in baseball, which was ended by Robinson's breaking of the color barrier. The "Steroid Era" in baseball will exist until an even better method of cheating comes around and makes steroid use passé.)

(Side note 2: I love — LOVE — that amphetamines didn't so much as merit a mention in Mitchell's report. For $20 million dollars over two years, you could at least be thorough.)

Anyway, what really got me — I almost did a spit take on my hamburger when I heard this at the bar during lunch — was Mitchell upping the sancti-ante my giving us the well-worn "What about the kids?!?" line. That kind of drivel is sickening in any occasion, but Mitchell using it to prop up baseball's criminal overreaction to decades of passive acceptance of PED use was about as scummy as it could get. Not that I should expect anything better from a former federal congressman, but every so often I'm still stunned at the gall of people who believe that pre-adolescents make for handy metaphorical human shields.

Now that I've calmed down, my almost paralyzing desire to break Mitchell's left orbital has subsided. But I'd still like to throw his own mealy-mouthed question back in his face. What about the kids, you cocksucker? Because I think that baseball's steroid "investigation" has set a far worse moral example for today's youth than anything F.P. Santangelo did with his ass, a needle and perhaps his closest personal-training buddy.

If we're to use the Mitchell Report as a moral guide, then the kids should believe there's nothing wrong with applying wide brushes when condemning individuals. The "list" — not the fake one released hours before the Mitchell Report which was, stunningly, to be found on the web sites of "legitimate" news delivery agencies (hear that, SAS?) — is presented as a context-less recitation of "users" everywhere it's to be found. Are we to believe that Paul Byrd and Andy Pettitte are both guilty of the same crimes, to the same degrees? Further, are we to believe there's equal evidence of the guilt of both men? Of course not. But Mitchell's use of names invited a situation in which all alleged users — and I'd bet the house that a not-insignificant portion of the men on that list shouldn't be on it — are considered cheaters of the same magnitude and with the same amount of proof. Remember, kids, that it's OK to generalize provided you're doing it under the banner of righteousness.

If we're to use the Mitchell Report as a moral guide, then the kids should believe that it's OK to injure others based on hearsay and zealotry. Because, as far as I can tell, all Mitchell has to offer about Clemens and Pettitte, the two biggest names indicted by the report, is the testimony of a potentially jilted ex-personal trainer and his supplier. No corroboration, no lie detector test, no actual evidence of steroid use outside of the "sworn testimony" of two guys and the willingness of the rest of us to allow our suspicions to be so easily confirmed. Yes, there's some fairly damning, hard evidence about others that was uncovered by the Feds in various raids, but that's not the case with the two gentlemen who spent the most time on the ticker during Mitchell's press conference. I'm shocked, frankly, that Mitchell didn't take the now-popular path of talking to ballplayer's ex-mistresses and presenting their testimony without reservation. Remember, kids, that the ends always justify the means.

If we're to use the Mitchell Report as a moral guide, then the kids should believe it's acceptable let others take the punishment for a misdeed you participated in, provided you can cop to plausible deniability. Why haven't we seen a gigantic, explosive, above-the-virtual-fold columns condemning Brian Sabean's tacit acknowledgment of Bonds' steroid use (and encouragement, in the fashion of offering Bonds another contract after Stan Conte had made it very clear that Bonds was juicing), which was documented in the report? And Sabean wasn't the only one; I refuse to believe that most coaches, GMs and owners were in the dark about this shit. Men cannot simultaneously be intelligent enough to run massive organizations and dumb enough to not have a fucking clue what its employees are up to in the goddamn clubhouses. Mitchell made mention of "shared responsibility," and deserves credit for not cracking a smile when doing so. His report has laid this problem squarely on the players and given the administrators a token reprimand for playing dumb. Everyone knew what was going on, and the money men encouraged it by lavishing the users with millions of dollars and ridiculously long contracts. Remember, kids, that shit always rolls downhill, so just make sure that you're rich if you're going to do something wrong.

And, finally, if we're to use the Mitchell Report as a moral guide, then kids should learn to celebrate the ethics of the snitch. The parts of this report that weren't based on seized evidence were based on the testimony of those who had something to gain by implicating others in their crimes. It's nice to know that, should I ever be a part of a criminal conspiracy, I have currency with my captors so long as I'm caught first. Right after high school baseball players are handed a first-person testimonial about the dangers of steroids written by the remorseful hand of Jason Giambi on his personalized stationary, they should receive a concise explanation of "The Prisoner's Dilemma," and understand how the proper manipulation of game theory can likely one day emancipate them from punishment for misdeeds, or at the very least mitigate that punishment. Remember, kids, to rat early and rat often. Maybe one day, you'll be best known for destroying the life of someone much more popular and successful than you.

Just don't take steroids. We beg of you. Anything but steroids.

(no subject)

I’ve spent much of the last week debating whether or not to continue our little experiment called TGWNA. Part of it is due to the creative apathy that’s beguiled me most of my life; my chief character flaw is an overarching desire to be lazy. Despite what may come across as a desire to shout my sometimes obnoxious views from the rooftops, I much prefer having the roof over my head and the heat on. Applying that metaphor to writing, which I once foolishly believed was what I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing, I’ve found that it takes much longer to compose in my head and leave it there. The process of elucidating my thoughts through the written word is tiresome and frustrating, because my thoughts are often much less compelling in a physical form than they are in the ether.

However, the main reason for thoughts of pulling the plug is that this virtual space has become somewhat uncomfortable for me of late, and apparently my good friend and co-author shares a similar sentiment. I believe the current situation is endemic to the site’s underlying concept, which could be best summed up by the crude moniker, “argument blog.” At its inception, I never imagined this space would be happened upon — not to mention desirable to — people who didn’t know the site’s principals. This was really just an attempt to combat the post-collegiate diaspora that made personal contact among our group of friends more difficult; I wanted to recapture the bliss of the hyperbolic group arguments we used to impose on almost any space we occupied, often without thought to the mores of the particular environment or innocent bystanders within earshot.

But it’s become readily apparent a few times previous to this one that a virtual argument lacks many of the most endearing aspects of a live one, and amplifies its few regrettable characteristics. Namely, it’s impossible to smile when delivering a barb unless you’re willing to succumb to emoticons, an artifact of the internet age that I despise. There have been numerous intervals where I’ve been convinced that irreparable harm has been done to friendships over exchanges in this space, though thankfully that hasn’t actually been the case yet (I hope). If there is an overarching theme to this blog (besides sports) it is stubbornness. I can’t think of a single occasion where a point, however ancillary, has been conceded. As is often the case with impasses, something eventually breaks, and it’s usually decorum. Insults and aspersions are cast, people get pissed, and everyone begins to question how fun this really is. And if we’re not having fun here, then why the fuck aren’t we spending our internet time looking at Brittney Spears’ twat?

But reflection over the last couple of days has changed my perspective. A staple of my internet chats with friends has become “When are you going to write about this on the blog?” and it reminds me that I am no closer today to most of my friends than I was when I first registered the site on Blogger. This is, still, the easiest way for me to maintain friendships with people I see sporadically. And it’s still the only forum I’ve got to write when inspiration strikes. I may not do it as much as I used to or should, but I shudder to think what will happen to my brain if I ever cease doing it completely.

In short, I’m going to keep writing, though I can’t make any promises about how often.
As for the potential for explosive comments, I think I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s better to have more dialogue then less, even if that sometimes means I’ll get bent about something written. I’ll only request that everyone — myself included — keep in mind that insults and condescension are the hallmark of the intellectually incompetent. I single no one out, because I have been as guilty of choosing vituperium over testimonium, and it’s unfair to expect others to be respectful if you’re being an asshole.

Sorry about the length. I imagine this was a scintillating read.

p.s. – I may start writing about some non-sports things. Not often, but a recent Camille Paglia column really got me going.

p.p.s. – I also might write about soccer every so often.

p.p.p.s. – XOXOXOXO ☺

The Disagreeal

OK, I'll bite.

Sean Taylor -- Your whole point here seems to be, "I was wrong about Sean Taylor, but I'm not going to retract, because I could have been right." Which is fine, except that you were still wrong. And so were most of our commenters with their half-assed theories about his "bad life decisions." Turns out he just got robbed because he was rich.

I'm not even going to talk about race, for once. But, all due, your take on Occam's Razor seems off. First of all, I think you extend Occam's Razor well beyond its actual jurisdiction, which is scientific, and I think it loses a lot of its sharpness when used metaphorically to discuss a sports-related murder. But even beyond that, you're wrong that the simplest explanation is that his past led to the attack. The simplest explanation, logically, is that it was a robbery gone awry, because that doesn't rely on some overblown and mostly speculative beef stemming from a gun-brandishing incident that happened years ago. The simplest explanation is exactly what happened.

Forgive me if I don't care what a backup cornerback who was in Phoenix at the time thinks. I'll take the word of the experienced people who are paid to investigate these kinds of things, who all seem to say that it was a robbery. And it also doesn't matter to me that you and Anonymous #2 could have been right -- you weren't.

The Pats -- This whole greatest ever talk is retarded, and I'm sorry I was the one to instigate it on this blog. (Although, to be fair, I was far from the first person to bring it up in the sporting world at large.) I don't care if the Pats win the rest of their games by 50 points apiece -- they're not the greatest ever.

They're playing in the most mediocre NFL in memory, a league that has three -- I'll give you four if you really want to debate it -- legitimately good teams. Their division, against whom six of those wins will come, might be the worst NFL division I've ever seen. They should have lost the last two weeks, to teams that are currently 5-7 and 4-8, respectively. Both made the NE defense look terrible, despite starting backup QBs. They couldn't run the ball against either. They won because of suspect playcalls and extremely suspect -- I mean conspiracy theory iffy -- penalties.

It's asinine that we're even talking about this as a possibility, and it's just another sign of the inanity of contemporary sports culture, which rushes to beknight every good team or player as the best ever, even before they've actually accomplished anything. It's utter stupidity. It's like we've all joined the cast of the Best Damn Sports Show Period for their nightly list feature, "Top 20 All-Time Greatest NFL Teams Who Went 12-0."

Thankfully, I think the whole discussion will end soon, because if they play anything like they have the last two weeks, they won't beat the Steelers.

Instant Replay and Peavy -- I'm with you on both.

Wolf, Milledge, and Dukes -- Too early on all three counts. You're mistaking potential for results yet again.

Wolf -- Overall, yes, I agree that it's a shrewd move by a great GM. But let's not forget that this is a guy who's missed most of the last three seasons with various arm injuries, and wasn't that good to begin with. The reason it's a shrewd move has much less to do with the player Randy Wolf is and a lot more to do with how cheap he came.

Milledge -- So the Mets traded their second-best outfield prospect for a guy (Church) who will contribute almost exactly what Milledge would have next year (check their respective stats), as well as a defensive catcher they needed. (I know the value of a good defensive catcher is anathema to the stattys of the world, but it exists.) The only reason it strikes me as odd is because of Estrada. You're also neglecting the fact that Milledge is a notorious headcase who may never put it all together.

Dukes -- Speaking of notorious headcases, let's take a look at your rationalization of Dukes' character. He's "done some bad stuff"? His actions are "reprehensible for sure"? Excuse me -- dude didn't throw a rock through a window, or even take the Clear: HE THREATENED TO KILL HIS GIRLFRIEND AND HER CHILDREN! Then he sent a picture of the gun he was going to use! And that's just the latest in his string of sociopathic behavior. He's a horrible human being, and I don't care if he throws 150-mph fastballs or has a VORP of 872: he doesn't deserve a second chance. Sure, he'll get one. Of course he will, because he hasn't made the mistake of doing steroids and outlasting his welcome. But he doesn't deserve it. I'm actually just fine with saying that people who terrorize women and children don't deserve second chances, thank you very much.

Sure, maybe he'll be the MVP in four years. But that's far from a foregone conclusion. In fact, given the potential that he's actually shown in both arenas, it's a lot more likely that he'll be in jail by then. So let's hold off a bit before we say how much of a steal he is.

A note on comments: You'll notice that comments are disabled for this post. They will be for the rest of my posts from here on out. It's the only way I'm willing to continue doing this. Some of you offer some real and much-appreciated insight in our comments section, and to you I sincerely apologize. But I'm not willing to deal with the rest anymore.

The fact is that comment sections are almost invariably full of stupidity, snark, ad hominem, or worse. Look at any newspaper's website, or any prominent sports blog. What you'll find is a bunch of work-avoiding slackers trying to out-quip each other, readers getting into stupid arguments with each other, and just plain bad writing and thinking.

For instance, our own comments have recently hosted: ad hoc Sean Taylor conspiracy theories, implications that he was to blame for his own murder, people I hardly know taking shots at me, me taking shots at people I hardly know, and our resident Seahawks fan's continuing juvenile-hall smack about Donovan McNabb being fat and/or gay. Since our very first posts, it's served mostly to further arguments between friends that invariably get personal and create real-life tension. The semi-public forum only exacerbates this. There's just no point.

I'm sick of it. You want to disagree, maybe offer an opposing view? Fine. Start your own blog. Shit, ask to join this one -- I'd love to have more viewpoints to keep it fresh and make posts more frequent, and I'm sure Diesel would agree. We'll be happy to have blog-offs. Or you can e-mail us at our newly created blog address -- tgwnablog@gmail.com -- and we'll do mailbag columns. But either way, you're going to have to provide more than a few lines of facile smartaleckyness.

Cleaning house

Sean Taylor
It appears the cops are fairly resolute on this being a non-premeditated murder, which I suppose makes much of the speculation — mine included, featured right below this post — appear hasty and flat wrong.

OK.

I'm not going to apologize for what I said because I still feel there's logic behind it. Readers will, by this point, be familiar with my love of William of Occam, and his fine razor. The simplest answer, in this case, was that Sean Taylor's off-the-field history likely played a role in his eventual demise. I agree with many critics of the media's coverage that attempting to draw conclusions about Taylor — as a person, or in regard to his demise — based on his on-field behavior reeks of prejudice, and not necessarily in the racial sense (though it would be foolish to say that's absolutely not the case, either). But I disagree with those crowing "See! I told you so!" to those who stated the obvious in the early days after his death, which is that Taylor had a history of being both the alleged victim and perpetrator of gun violence. And that's not even getting into the break-in a week prior, the remnants of which involved what can only be construed as a threat of violence. I'll be curious to see how that situation is ultimately reconciled by investigators when it's all said and done, if it's to be reconciled at all.

I'm also going to say this — and I know I'm likely to catch shit for it — before being done with the matter of Taylor's death: I still have trouble buying it. It would make perfect sense for the perpetrators to represent their crime as a burglary gone bad, as a lack of premeditation serves as a mitigating circumstance when it comes to murder. Of course, it's not just the perps saying this; I would like to believe the police wouldn't simply buy into what's been confessed and leave it at that. But without getting all conspiracy theorist on everyone here, if this is a coincidence, it's a hell of a coincidence. And I'm not the only person who thinks so. But that's also largely irrelevant, so I'll leave it at that.

There are a ton of other issues that Taylor's death has brought up, however, w/r/t black athletes, the perception of black athletes by the media and fans, and the fairly shocking mortality rates for young black men that Taylor's death has suddenly made everyone aware of. I'm not going to pretend I'm capable or willing of attacking all with the correct gravity right now, but maybe I'll break them up and tackle them another day. I am going to say this, however: If you believe that race isn't an issue, you are allowing your desires to cloud your perception of reality. Race is not only an issue, it might be the issue. And I don't see why acknowledging that, or talking about it, is met with shouts, because it's that reaction that guarantees the "race isn't an issue" people will continue to be very, very wrong. I'm not saying everyone has to agree on the conclusions, only that the argument is worth having.

The Patriots
Two sub-par performances in a row against teams that strain to be considered mediocre (unless we're actually willing to grant that the Eagles' and Ravens' performances against the Patriots suggest that, perhaps, they're better than just mediocre ... perhaps they've been unlucky?). But, still, two wins. And what's surprising to me is that, amid the speculation and desire to assign the 2007 Patriots a legacy despite the presence of, potentially, seven more games to go, everyone seems to have forgotten how fucking hard it is to win a football game in the NFL.

That statement can serve as an age-old truism — I mean, there's a reason there's been one undefeated team in the history of the league, and that team had one of the weakest schedules in the league that season — or you can make it specific to this era. It's difficult to describe to people who haven't been exposed to the inner workings of a professional or college football team just how staggering the technology at the disposal of coaches is in the modern era. The days of the single game tape are long gone; teams have the opportunity to dissect teams using the standard two cameras (one sideline, one end zone) operated by the home team at each game, television tapes and advance scouting reports in addition to the sheer volume of information that fans have access to as well. There are no secrets in football anymore, especially when it comes to schemes. To top it all off, coaches generally spend about 80 hours planning for each game, which would cause one to expect some advancement in approach against a particular opponent as the season wears on.

The Patriots, at some point, were going to have these kinds of games. I'm a little surprised that they came in a pair, but the timing shouldn't really be a concern. Nor should the opponents; while the Eagles and Ravens are well on their way to incredibly disappointing campaigns, they're not the Dolphins, either. Both teams schemed well in an effort to exploit their strengths and the Pats' weaknesses. Both had the Pats on the ropes. Both looked like they might pull it off.

And they didn't.

I have no idea what's going to happen for the rest of this season, which is why I'm willing to wait before making any affirmative statements about the Pats' "greatness." But I will say this: If New England wins out, regardless of margins of victory of heart palpitations on the part of Tony Kornheiser, they're the greatest team in the history of the NFL. But I really have trouble believing that's going to happen. It's just too hard.

On instant replay
Twice this week, games with big playoff implications were decided by questionable calls. The Packers lost because of a pass interference call that cost them close to 50 yards that appeared to be a case of tangled feet, which does not constitute pass interference. The Browns lost when Kellen Winslow was ruled out-of-bounds on a game-tying touchdown reception, despite the fact he was clearly forced out of bounds.

The pass interference call wasn't reviewed, because you can't review pass interference. The Browns' touchdown was reviewed, but not to determine if it was a force-out, because that's not reviewable either.

What bullshit.

We're told that those plays aren't reviewable, because they're "judgement calls." The same goes for field goal tries, holding, and facemask penalties. What distinguishes these plays from non-judgement calls is not readily apparent to me. Does the term suggest that the definitions of the infractions are highly subjective? If that's the case, those definitions should be reconsidered. But I think we all know they're not subjective, they're just difficult to call consistently. And that makes sense; being a football official is very difficult, and expecting robot-like precision on the part of human beings is foolish. With all due respect to Seahawks fans, bad or missed calls are not indicative of anything more than human fallibility.

But doesn't the presence of instant replay indicate an implicit acceptance on the part of the NFL that referees might get it wrong sometimes, and that there should be a mechanism in place to allow aggrieved teams the benefit of an opportunity on the part of officials to correct their errors? I think that's a reasonable conclusion. And if that's the case, then shouldn't the most difficult calls to make be made available to a second look?

I sense that the league is afraid that including pass interference on the list of reviewable plays will somehow expose officials to scorn, or even worse expose the league's rules definitions as being more subjective than what constitutes obscenity. I guess it's nice to see that the colossus of American sports is so damn sensitive.

The hot stove
I know everyone's talking about Santana, but isn't that getting old (plus, he's not going anywhere)? No, the real story is that the smart teams are jumping in early and swinging high-risk, high-ceiling deals before the market gets further inflated at the Opryland Hotel bar. The Padres' signing of Randy Wolf is precisely the kind of free agent deal that mid-market teams have to make if they're going to stay competitive; the only way Wolf will end up being highly paid is if he earns the money. Yeah, I know, the Padres have an advantage because of PETCO when it comes to signing pitchers, but it has less to do with the specifics of this deal than it does the approach. The only "bargains" to be had are on players with red flags, as evidenced by the Nationals' swindling of the Mets and Rays for Lastings Milledge and Elijah Dukes, in addition to the aforementioned Wolf signing.

(Quick note on Dukes: If you think this was a bad deal, then you're confusing baseball with the National Honors Society. Dukes is a talented player who's done some bad stuff, on the field and off. He threatened the life of his girlfriend, which is reprehensible for sure. But he's not in jail for it either, which means he's still eligible to have a career. If you think Dukes should be punished for his transgressions, complain about the justice system, not baseball)

But I think the really interesting story is that its looking very likely that the Padres will lock-up Jake Peavy long-term. Peavy's willing to cut the Pads a discount — he'll likely make less annually that Carlos Zambrano — comes in return for a no-trade clause, which is understandable. And while I've often bemoaned long-term contracts for pitchers, I'm starting to soften a little when it comes to the elite guys. Peavy's on a very short list of hurlers who are near-mortal locks to be among the best five starters in the majors on a yearly basis, and while it's dumb to expect that he'll be anywhere close to this dominant in 2013, he should still be well above-average barring significant injury. And while the "significant injury" caveat isn't insignificant, it's probably not significant enough to make deals like these prohibitive any longer. At some point in time, you've got to take your shot, even if you acknowledge that the odds aren't the most desirable. Peavy's not only one of the pre-eminent players in the game, he also happens to play for a team whose best pitching prospect (Will Inman) projects to be a No. 3 in a perfect world. I happen to think that the Twins should strongly consider giving Santana the money he wants as well — this is a fairly recent conclusion for me as well — but the situation for the Twins and the Padres aren't exactly analogous. The Twins could afford to lose Santana, even without a massive return in a trade, because they are flush with pitching prospects and have Francisco Liriano returning from Tommy John surgery. The Padres, on the other hand, don't have anyone all that great coming up through the system, which means that Peavy's value to the team is even higher.

Guys like me are often accused of ignoring the forest for the trees when it comes to stuff like this, and I think that's fair criticism. I hate the idea of teams — particularly teams I like — signing irrational contracts, and those belonging to free agent starters are most often deserving of that particular epithet. In my perfect world, you would always have enough talent on the farm to allow free agents to walk, because free agents are almost always too expensive. But in an imperfect world, you have to accept that there are times when too much isn't really too much. Peavy's expensive, and if he gets hurt it will be a massive blow to the franchise's ability to compete. But it would probably be an even bigger blow to not have him, which means it's a deal you have to make.