A Quick One While He's Away

Until further notice, your correspondent will be filing all reports down Yucatan way, from the WardensWorld Cancun bureau, to be precise. That's right, manana will find me jetting down to sunny Mejico, along with Brother Admiral, aka Jimmy The Greek -- like me, owner and proprietor of his very own highly successful Website. So for the foreseeable future, two of the leading lights on the Internets will take their leave -- creating a huge vacuum in the Tri-State Area.

But seriously, the Admiral has already warned me against revealing too much in terms of (hopefully) juicy or (potentially incriminating) details from our brief little excursion. I will pledge to hold up my end of the bargain, or at least disguise enough of the names/faces in the ensuing narrative to throw off even the most dogged of interested parties.

Ironically, I learned my lesson very recently when some purportedly offended party stumbled onto my wildly popular Web blog and raised a fit with someone else with whom I do business. The specifics are not presently important, suffice to say I spent much of last night engaged in poring over my archives for "offensive" passages and then expunging or mutating the pertinent names, places, dates, circumstances and other sundry incriminating material, no matter how innocuous I personally considered the respective posts. Company names were altered and people cryptically were reduced to initials, with the result that post after post now reads like a bad imitation of a Kafka novel.

Anyway, I learned that it's easier to be less forthcoming right at the beginning, versus having to go back and waste precious hours to rectify something that should never had to have been reducted in the first place!

And who loses in this latest development? Why, you the dear reader of course, who now, through no fault of your own, will no longer be privy to the most private parts of my life. (Although my private parts themselves are still up for bidding.) From now on, only the barest details will be offered, unless I decide to totally fabricate and exaggerate the otherwise forgettable ephemera of what is a pretty ordinary existence. Which pretty much goes a long way toward explaining why I've got the mass audience I do generate here on the worldwideweb. Dig it.

So Mrs. Jim doesn't need to worry about finding evidence of any misbehavior, on my part at least. After all, it wasn't me that got us unceremoniously tossed out of the Mudd Club circa 1981 for prolonged, excessive, unlikely-to-abate-anytime-soon vomiting, not 10 minutes after finally gaining entrance into that notoriously difficult club to get into. Nope, wasn't me. In fact, that's all I will say on the matter...for now. There's no telling what trouble I might get someone into. Adios, amigos.

Spreading The Wealth

Strange sports time of year -- only point where really all 4 major sports intersect in a major way: you've got your NBA and NHL playoffs in full swing, the baseball season has just begun in earnest, with about 20-25 games under every team's belt, and then you have the NFL draft taking place, making late April unique in that way.

The annual draft of college players into pro football is a rite of spring that allows fans of every NFL team to convince themselves that their club has really improved; as long as you have a couple of picks in the early rounds, hope does spring eternal.

For instance, as a Cowboy fan, I'm convinced that we've got a few more weapons on offense for QB Tony Romo: RBs Felix Jones (Arkansas) & Tashard Choice (Georgia Tech) and TE Martellus Bennett (Texas A&M), as well as some much-needed help at DB with 1st-round pick Mike Jenkins (South Florida). Without over-analyzing things, that's 4 solid players that should make an immediate impact to a team that went 13-3 and didn't lose all that much in the offseason, and that's not counting the huge risk/reward that Dallas is taking with the Adam Jones deal, the much-troubled but highly talented CB better known as Pacman.

Of course, other teams got better as well.

I think the Steelers got a lot of help on offense with RB Rashard Mendenhall out of Illinois and WR Limas Sweed from Texas. Add that to RB Willie Parker, WR Hines Ward, the TE Heath Miller, and Big Ben has far too many weapons for most defenses to stop.

The New York Jets had a busy offseason and yesterday added 2 1st-round picks that should start right away: LB Vernon Gholsten (Ohio State) and TE Dustin Keller (Purdue). Jets also had some quality picks in the late rounds.

Also notable was the Kansas City Chiefs' draft, which will be judged in large part by how well LSU DT Glenn Dorsey performs, but was one for the ages for a completely different reason: the Chiefs drafted three guys with basically the same first name, and it wasn't Mike or Bill or Jim either, but Brandon. KC took OG Branden Albert from Virginia in Round 1, CB Brandon Flowers from Virginia Tech in Round 2, and then CB Brandon Carr from Grand Valley State in Round 5. What are the odds of even 2 Brandons on one team, never mind in the same draft in the same year. I'm pretty sure this was prophesied in one of Nostradamus's forgotten passages.

Speaking of bad omens, that was a rotten loss by the 76ers last night to the Pistons, after leading by 10 at halftime and having a chance to go up 3-1 and shock the world. Well, some of the world anyway. But the Pistons came out and totally dominated the Sixers after the break, scoring the first 11 points and decisively outscoring Philly 34-16 in the 3rd to take a 70-62 advantage and never looked back.

I don't think it was a case of a young Sixers team being overconfident; I don't see coach Maurice Cheeks letting that happen. But there's a reason Detroit has been to 5 straight Eastern Conference finals: they're good. And they're experienced and seasoned and as battle-tested as any team outside of perhaps the San Antonio Spurs.

One key matchup has been the Sixers' best player, Andre Iguodola, against Tayshaun Prince, the Pistons' best man-on-man defender. Last night Iguodola went 4-16, his fourth straight subpar shooting game, while Prince shot an efficient 11-12 from the field. Prince has gotten the best of AI in every game, and it's amazing the 76ers have managed to win those 2 games so far given Iggy's struggles.

The numbers are downright putrid for Iguodola: 11 for 49 from the field, including 0-9 from beyond the arc. That's all due to the in-your-face defense of Prince, who has the wingspan of a small pterodactyl (about 33 feet). Meanwhile, Prince is an astounding 31-47 from the field in the series, against Iguodola, a very good defender in his own right on most nights. In most cases, one key matchup doesn't win or lose a series unless it's two great centers battling, but here the stats are so stark because one guy has really gotten the best of the other. Three games left for Iggy to make his mark, otherwise he's looking at a long offseason.

Bottom line: I'm one of the biggest 76ers fans in my census tract, and I'd be shocked if they won another game in this series. But this is one case where I would love to be proven wrong.

Some big names in baseball are struggling immensely at the plate so far this season. A lot of focus has been on Red Sox slugger David Ortiz, who through 96 ABs now is hitting an unsightly .177 with but 4 dingers, although he has a respectable 20 RBI. But his battles at the plate are not helping Boston any, losers of 5 straight entering tonight's action.

The Cubs' Alfonso Soriano is currently on the DL, but before he was injured he too was sucking windage in Windy City to the sorry tune of .175 with 11 K's in 57 at-bats. What a bargain the Cubs got at only $136 million over 8 years.

Pitching-wise, the Giants' Barry Zito continues to disappoint in alarming fashion. He's off to an 0-6 start, with a Richter-scale-like ERA of 7.53. And with just 11 K's in 28 innings, the former Oakland ace is not fooling anyone with anything he's throwing up there. In fact, it's foolish investments like the $126 million fortune the Giants sank into this baked Zito that has America teetering on the edge of economic recession.

On the Yankees, Jason Giambi is also "hitting" .177, albeit with some pop (5 HRs), and 2B Robinson Cano is "missing" to the tune of just .158, with only 1 measly HR; this is the sec0nd season in a row where the young hitter has stunk it up mightily early in the year. He's too good a hitter for these protracted slumps. In fact, no one on the Yankees is really tearing it up at the plate so far, and Jorge Posada just went on the disabled list. So it's not unexpected that as I write this they're getting no-hit tonight in chilly Cleveland through 5 innings by Aaron Laffey, a 23-year-old making his first start of the year. So it goes.

Freewheelin' Friday

Better To Start With A Pekingese & Other Useful Carnal Advice

But first let's travel back to Old Rome...

...As in the first season of the terrific HBO Series Rome. Couldn't be enjoying it more through the first 9 episodes of Season 1. It's basically Deadwood in tunics, and that's in no way a bad thing. It's got Deadwood's same uneven mix of the sacred and the profane, the lofty and the lowdown. It's humanity, warts and all. We recognize ourselves in these characters surging through ancient Rome, otherwise what's the point. A thousand years is mankind blinking an eye once or twice.

For all the well-known characters and major historical figures portrayed in the series, the real action often hinges on the lives of two professional legionnaires in the Roman Army, Titus Pullo and Lucien Vorenus. In one scene, Pullo takes a young nobleman to an upscale brothel for his first taste and informs the madam of the house, "But the girl better fuck him like Helen of Troy with her ass on fire, or I'll know the reason why." Priceless. And it rings true, like almost every note of this series.

Another great scene takes place on a doomed ship bound for Greece. Just before the ship goes down, Vorenus tells Pullo, "A very good offering was made to Triton, we're perfectly safe."
"If Triton can't keep me drier than this, he can suck my dick," comes the response, followed by more waves and finally the shipwreck.

In another episode, a character says, "It's as hot as Vulcan's cock," and given that Vulcan is the Roman god of fire, you gotta figure that's pretty fucking hot. You see, you learn a little as you go along here.

The DVD set of the first season has a cool viewing option where a box will appear telling you little historical nuggets about Rome. For instance, I didn't realize that Cleopatra and some of the other Egyptian rulers for a few hundred years had Greek blood thanks to Alexander the Great infusing the bloodlines. Also, opium was used from 1500 BC in Egypt, and Cleo herself partook generously.

Speaking of learning something new, the Yankees were 10-10 after the first 20 games, but did you know did you know did you know they were 10-0 with a lead after 6 innings, and 0-10 when trailing after 6 innings. That's either consistency or mediocrity.

Also alarming is that the lead-footed Bombers stole their first base in Game 14 of the season! That's a mark of futility that matches the 1948 team, which as I recall at least had an excuse: no brothers and such allowed. I think you get my drift. Boy, did I really go there? What happened to me...

Okay, okay, so Mike Mussina pitched a good game the other night, holding the White Sox to just 4 hits and 2 runs, both coming on home runs, which is predictable. Luckily they were solo shots, because he gives up 2 bombs a game minimum these days. Believe me, I hope he pitches well all the time as long as he's on the Yankees, but color me skeptical at least for now. His fastball tops out at 90-91 now if I'm not mistaken, and there's only so many times you're gonna fool these guys with guile unless you're a lefty or your name's Greg Maddux in his Prime.

Just in time for 3-game series with Braves, Shea favorite Chipper "Larry" Jones is destroying NL pitching, to the tune of a .442 average. Had himself a birthday bash yesterday, celebrating his 36th with 3 hits and his 7th HR already, to go along with 20 RBIs.

There was a time not too long ago where if I was going to start a team and could pick one position player, it would be Chipper. That was about 6 or 7 years ago, though. Now to me the best pure hitter in either league is Miguel Cabrera, when you factor in power and youth. But he's a subpar fielder and hasn't really found a position in the field suited to him, and that's never a good thing.

Worst team in baseball could be the Texas Rangers, fresh off 7 straight defeats, with their putrid pitching staff. Detroit just got well on them, outscoring them by a decisive 37-10 over their recent series. That's ugly. One of their relief pitchers (Fukunari) has a 20.25 ERA; another starter is 0-4 with a 7.46 ERA. Team president Nolan Ryan could not only start for them right now, he would be their ace. Only problem is he's about 60.

Yanks in midst of an 18 of 20 stretch on the road, thanks to Pope Prada's stopover in Sodom by the Sea. Daily News wrote a typically demented editorial on how this Pope is so magnificent because he doesn't criticize or question the wisdom of the Great Ship America. But not this pontiff. Where's Father Guido Sarducci when you need him?

I mean, you can make the case that this president of (y)ours had a hand in the cessation of hundreds of thousands of formerly existing persons in the form of dead Iraqis. You'd think such a world leader would be ripe for a modicum of reproach from the so-called messenger of God on this here Earth. But not according to Mortimer Zuckerman.

Speaking of rotting tabloid owners, it looks like greedy cadaverous scumbag Rupert Murdoch will be adding Newsday to his media empire. I mean, I hardly if ever buy Newsday. I used to buy it regularly back in the pre-Internet days when Jimmy Breslin was still knocking out his columns. Newday's only distinction is that it's not the Times, it's not the Post and it's not the News. In fact, the Daily News' latest goofy slogan is plastered above the fold: "THE BIGGEST TABLOID IN NEW YORK" How weak is that, and WTF does if even mean! Biggest in circulation or in actual size of the paper? Get back to us on that...

This is a tabloid war where no one deserves to win, and the people who lose are the New York City readers who want a decent, unbiased, lively newspaper, but one that doesn't talk down to them or pander (at least too much) to their base instincts. If we want craven decadence, after all, there's HBO.

Well, got an early Birthday present Sunday night when the 76ers knocked off the Pistons in Detroit in Game 1 of their playoff series. They were trailing late and then got off a good run, playing as they did when they were running off something like 25 of 32 when they made their late season playoff push. But reality hit hard on Wednesday in Game 2, when the Pistons opened up an early lead and never let up on the way to a 105-88 spanking. I don't think the game was on TV anywhere in the free world, and I didn't bother following it on the Net b/c I knew an major ass-whoopin' was in the works. But things could turn again on Friday night in Philly just as quickly. That's gonna be a rocking crowd for sure, and I hope the Sixers give 'em reason to get into the game for 4 quarters.

Still going with Spurs-Pistons in the Finals as my loyal reader(s) will already know. Wager accordingly. However, if the Sixers make it out of this round, of course they're going all the way a la the New York Football Giants. Make book on it. Or should I say Maximus Bookius, friends and citizens...

Speaking of football, of course this is the weekend of the NFL draft. We've seen a few good trades already. Vikings made a good one, although it didn't come cheap: getting Jared Allen from the Chiefs is a good move, giving them an incredible defensive front four with Allen at DE and the two Williams Boys at DT. Jets got rid of former #1 Dewayne Robertson, who has to be considered a bust given where he was drafted. And speaking of disappointments, it appears the Cowboys sent their 4th-round pick to the Tennessee Titans in this year's draft for Adam "Pacman" Jones. As a Cowboy fan, I will go on record as saying, football wise, it's a steal, but coming off a 13-win season and with two #1 picks, there's no reason for such a desperate move.

So far this offseason we signed LB Zack Thomas, as solid a citizen as there is in the NFL, and now Jones to balance out that good deed, the yin and the yang of the modern citizen-athlete. That's what sports is these days, a compromise for the fan between wanting to win at all costs and facing the consequences of that sentiment up close and personal. You can't pick your family but you can pick your sports teams, so I guess when it no longer gets to be fun, I'll stop following.

Seahawks released RB Shaun Alexander outright, and can't say I blame them. They had already picked up T.J. Duckett, a serviceable power back, and my former Boy Julius Jones, who I still think has a bright future in this league. I'd be shocked, as Chris Russo would say, if he doesn't have a career year in '08. As long Zack and the Boys kick his butt when we see them on this year's schedule.

Finally, news from the Just When You Think You've Got It Bad Department: Did you see the story about some poor schmuck named Robert Melia? Talk about your 15 minutes of infamy: Turns out the ex-cop was arrested and charged with -- there's no easy way to say this -- having oral relations with a cow. I mean, what's the proper etiquette after you've had sex with a willing bovine? Do you call her a cab and say you'll call her tomorrow? It was the first case of bestiality in the area since someone tried to have carnal cornucopia with a Rottweiler. Now, that's sick. You sure do NOT want to find yourself in coitus interruptis with a big horny Rottweiler. That could get tricky. Better to start with a Pekingese or a laid-back Greyhound. Trust me. I learned that the hard way. But hey, that's what she said.

Freestyle Friday

If it seems I haven't been blogging all that much lately, it's because I haven't -- due to an equal combination of busy-ness, lazy-ness and disinterested-ness. But we're here today rectify that sitch, and we all know how painful that can be. To Wit, of which, if you didn't already know, Brevity is the Soul: won't you join me as we take it hard to the hoop here on WardensWorld.

But first to the mound. No way the Yankees are making the playoffs with their present starting rotation. Taint gonna happen, my friends. Not with a past-his-prime Andy Pettite, a way-way-past-his prime-teetering-on-washed-up Mike Mussina (about whom more in a sec), two promising but unproven kiddies in Phil Hughes and Ian Kennedy, and only one true dependable frontline pitcher in Chin-Mieng Wang.

Mussina is probably my least favorite Yank. Didn't want him in the first place, and thought it was one of Brian Cashman's all-time worst signings -- and that's saying something -- to give the Stanford Stoic that ridiculous contract that pays him 16 mil a season. That's just throwing good money after bad, as my dad would always say. Well, not always, just when it was called for.

For reasons I can't quite put my finger on, I hate almost everything about Mussina, from that stupid back bend he does before every pitch to the his grating excuses after every game he gets shelled. Which lately is every game.
Last night Mussina got beat up again, surrendering two more homers and a double to Manny Ramirez, which makes only three HRs Mussina has served up to Ramirez in less than a week. In fact, check this out: in his last 26 ABs against Mussina, Ramirez has 13 hits, including 4 dingers, and 13 runs batted in. And careerwise, Ramirez now has the 3rd most HRs alltime of any Yankees opponent. Maybe that game plan isn't working, Mike. Just walk the fucking guy next time and save us the heartache.

And maybe that should go for the whole Yankees staff when it comes to facing Manny. I mean, Yankee Killer doesn't do justice to the way this guy tears the heart out of Yankee fans. It's more like Yankee Mass Murderer at this point. At least last night Farnsworth threw a 100 MPH heater behind his dreadlocked cabeza and shook him up a little. (Farnsworth got himself a 3-game suspension for his troubles.) Nothing else seems to work.

Usually after such a stinker, Mussina says stuff like, Well, I just couldn't get Strike 3, or The guy hit a good pitch. But last night he was more succinct and sounded more down and defeated than usual: “I missed so bad a couple times that I can’t remember what I tried to do. It was just lousy.” Got that right.

Saw a rare sight in an NBA game the other night when the Toronto Raptors played the Nets: one team had 5 white guys on the floor at once! But wait, it gets better: after a timeout, while Sam Mitchell, the Raptors' black head coach, was resting his star, Chris Bosh, the 5 players he sent in were not only all white, but I don't believe any of them were American-born; instead it was an Italian, an Argentine, a few guys from Eastern Europe, etc. Imagine a whole team of Europeans in the NBA? How would they do? You don't have to answer now, get back to me later...

This post is gonna go all over the place, so get used to it. I am in the process of emptying one of my notebooks before all the contents get too old. And I do it all for you, the reader. And when I say the reader, I mean The Reader, as in one reader. But one's enough, two would be a crowd and three a stampede.

NBA playoffs start this weekend, tomorrow in fact, and after a few seconds of research, I like the San Antonio Spurs to prevail in the finals over the Detroit Pistons. But the #1 seeds are the Celtics and Lakers, which would be David Stern's wet dream of course. And for that reason alone I hope it doesn't happen.

My 76ers as the 7 seed in the East have to take on the #2 Pistons in the first round. How can I like their chances? I can't, and hope to just extend 'em as long as possible. (That's what she said.) But seriously, just a few weeks ago the Sixers were riding high, but the last 7 or 8 games they played like crap, and when they played well they had crap luck.

The other night the 76ers eked out a 1-point win over the Cavs, and ran off the court in celebration. In fact, they reached their locker room before an official informed them that the referees were reviewing videotape to see if Sam Dalambert had fouled a Cavalier with no time remaining. Sure enough, that's just what they reviewed, and after 2 foul shots, Cleveland had the 1-point win. Talk about a tough way to lose. But at least the Sixers have a puncher's chance. Hopefully that puncher is Jerry Quarry and not Gerry Cooney.
Speaking of fighting, check out this transition, I just finished a great, terrific, brilliant, incredible book by Tom Holland called Persian Fire about the epic Greek-Persian wars of the late 5th Century BC. It just might be the single best written history book I have ever read. If takes you so much into the action that I got fucking goose bumps myself waiting to take on the Great King's endless hordes of soldiers myself. I don't know, maybe it's another life thing, when my great great great to the 10th power grandfather might have fought at Salamis or Marathon or Thermopylae.

Actually, I've been told my mother's family can be traced back to the small island of Samos, which is way off the mainland, in fact it's so far on the Eastern side of the Aegean Sea that it's right off the coast of Turkey. And unfortunately, at least according to this account, the Samians don't come off all that well in this book. When it comes time to play their part in the Ionian uprising against the King's satraps, they instead sell out their fellow Greeks to the Persians. And they did it for money, for trade, because they saw the Greek colonies as threats to their business. So it goes.

But oh those wacky Spartans! Even the Persians knew of their reputation. One great anecdote in the book tells of two Spartans who were sent off the battlefield just before a battle was to commence because of severe eye inflammations. But one of the warriors defied his instructions to remain on the sidelines and instead made his way back to the front lines and ultimately died in the heavy fighting. The other warrior, when he finally returned to his village, was now branded a "trembler." As Holland describes it:

"There, on his arrival, he had been greeted with revulsion. His fellow citizens had branded him a 'trembler': the single most shameful word in the Spartan lexicon. Harshly unfair -- but it was only to be expected, in a city where courage was reckoned the greatest virtue, that one slightest hint of cowardice in a citizen would doom him to ignominy.
The life of a trembler in Sparta was signally wretched. Patches sewn into his cloak would alert the whole city to his disgrace. Whether sitting down at his mess table or attempting to join in a ballgame, he would be icily ignored by all of his former friends. At festivals, he would have to stand up or make way for anyone who demanded it -- even the most junior.
Cruelest cut of all, his daughters, if he had any, would find it impossible to secure a husband: a typically Spartan eugeniest measure designed to prevent the taint of cowardice from being inherited by future generations."

After finishing Persian Fire and still being fired up, I had a strong desire to watch it all play out again, and so I went to the video store, in my case the library, where I had seen it before, to find 300, the recent computer-generated/assisted film that got bad reviews but did big box office. Alas, they were out of that, but instead I stumbled upon the first season of Rome, the HBO miniseries. My verdict after the first two episodes: superb. Like Cecil B. DeMille meets I Claudius, with a little Martin Scorcese thrown in. With more sex and nudity of the good kind than you can shake a dick at.

Just when my pride at being Greek was at its absolute apex, I sat down to watch the Hillary-Barack debate on ABC the other night. Moderating, badly, this faceoff was nerdy Charles Gibson and the diminutive Hellenic himself, George Stephanopoulos. According to my cousin, none other than Linda Stephanopoulos, he's actually related to her family somehow, and maybe mine by extension. (That's what she said.) But as the debate wore on, I can't tell you how many times I yelled FUCKING DOUCHEBAG! at either jerkoff Gibson or the dwarfish Greek because of their ludicrous lines of questioning the candidates.
Gibson proved himself a willing mouthpiece for the Oligarchy as he constantly badgered Clinton and Obama with questions about the sacred capital gains tax and taxes in general. With every follow-up he tried to get the candidates to swear, pledge, promise not to raise a single tax at any point no matter what the economic circumstances. Seven years into a draining, expensive war that has decimated the military, seven years into massive tax breaks for the very wealthy, while the economy falls into recession, it is taboo to talk about raising taxes on the well-to-do or at least somehow lowering the tax burden on the middle class while gas prices skyrocket and the housing crisis descends further into chaos. At least according to plutocrat Gibson, sitting there with his glasses perched absurdly low on his nose.

Stephanopoulos proved himself no less a craven fool and no more discerning a moderator than his colleague as he too fell in line with a sensationalist line of questioning no doubt preordained by his higher-ups for maximum shock, and therefore rating, effect. Gotta hold that coveted 18-22 demographic, after all. The best way to put it is the little gnome made me ashamed to be Greek, and that's saying something considering the Hellenic High I was on reading of the exploits of my lineal ancestors distinguishing themselves long ago on the plains of Marathon, such that close to Three Millenia later, it is yet noted whenever the annals of bravery and courage are chronicled.

At the close of the debate, Gibson and Stephanapoulos stood side by side with self-satisfied grins at a job well done. Except it turns out while Stephanapoulos was standing up, Gibson was seated in some sort of folding chair, and yet they were the same size. Not a good decision on little Georgie's part. He looked more like a ventriloquist's dummy than a network journalist, and I couldn't have been happier.

By the way, I thought Hillary acquitted herself quite well, taking the high road most times, and came across as very likable. And I am far from a Clinton lover, in fact quite the opposite, of which I spoke to you of which. I thought Obama was not at his sharpest, and at times I was distracted by the manner in which his head was tilted while he responded to the childish queries of the network stooges posing as moderators. Surely his head is not so heavy that he cannot square it up straight while he talks. Watch for it next time you see him. If I'm his handlers, I'm all over that.

The low point was when a dimwit representing an actual Pennsylvania voter, given the opportunity to ask the candidates a question, used her opportunity to accuse Obama of hating the country, obvious to everyone since he does not wear a flag lapel. That was the kind of night it was, the kind of country we're apparently stuck with, the kind of true mess we find ourselves at this late point in the early 21st century. Enjoy!

Loss Of A Gentle Giant

Got some real sad news today. Anthony Tortora, one of my closest high school mates and a fellow member of the football team, the McBurney Highlanders, also known as the Fighting Green Machine, just passed away on April 9th. He was living with his family and doing well up in Albany. Weird thing is just two weeks ago my high school had a reunion. Tony couldn't make it, but my friend John got in contact with him recently and I was planning on doing the same.

I mean, I know we're getting up there now, my fellow '78 alums, but 47 is still too damn young for a man to die. I read in his obituary just now that he was coaching Pop Warner football, and somehow that really made me feel good, that our former starting offensive tackle (#73 below) was passing on his experience and knowledge of the game to the little ones, as well as his crazy sense of humor and his exuberance to live life to its fullest. My heart goes out to his wife and the three young kids he leaves behind.

April Can't Fool Me

Well, it sure doesn't feel like a baseball opening day today; the calendar says April, but outside the weather feels more like mid-November: another wet, sunless, dreary drag of a day.

Yesterday the Yankees were rained out of their first game, delaying for at least one more day the beginning of what already is being hyped to death as the last opening day of the final season at old Yankee Stadium; the new, unnecessary, faux Yankee Stadium will open up for the 2009 season. (Unlike the new Citi Field replacing Shea Stadium, where the case can be made that a new facility for the Mets has long been needed.) In a City where scores of new high-rise luxury office and residential high rises increasingly mar the sky scape, it's only fitting that an irreplaceable, history-drenched sports museum of a stadium will be razed to make way for a building designed to look like it's 100 years old. Such is the heartless essence of the New York real estate market and its devastating effect on neighborhood after neighborhood, memory after memory.

Tonight's game is against the Toronto Blue Jays, who for the seventh or eighth year running is supposed to be a "much improved" team, but more of my focus will be on the NBA tonight, with the Philly Sixers looking to regain their winning ways against the New Jersey Nets.

My recent sports-viewing policy has been to almost totally ignore the first 10 games of the MLB season. I mean, the season is so darn long, and the opening few games so meaningless in terms of individual stats as well as overall team standings, that it's best to let the season establish itself before giving it anything more than a cursory glance at the box scores in the morning paper. That's my theory, and you're free to partake of it as you wish.

Maybe it's the dismal New York weather, but I just can't get into baseball right now. It seems that lately for me it's been more of a case of hating the New York Mets and despising the Boston Red Sox and their respective collections of annoying followers that drives my passion for the game. That's what it's come to; I'm just being honest. As long as any other team besides the aforementioned Mets and Red Sox win it all, I'm okay with that. Sure, it would be nice to add another World Series title as the ghosts of old Yankee Stadium witness this final season at the same ballpark where Gehrig and Ruth and Joe D. and Mantle and Berra once plied their trades. As no other than Derek Jeter put it: "Just 100 yards away? That's not too far for the ghosts to go." Okay, Derek, but why should they have to move at all?

As for the 76ers, after beating the Bulls last Wednesday 121-99 to move two games over .500 at 37-35 and further solidify their playoff chances, the Sixers have dropped a pair of games, losing at home to Phoenix 107-93 and then a close one at Cleveland, 91-88. Heading into tonight's game at the Meadowlands, it's important to not fall under .500 again, if just for the collective psyche of the club. Plus, the schedule doesn't let up from here on out with 8 games remaining. The Sixers are just a game and a half out of the 5th seed in the Eastern Conference. Following tonight's Nets game, the Sixers play a home-and-home series against Atlanta; then home games against the Pistons and Pacers; followed by games at Washington, home to the Cavs, and then on the road against Charlotte. I'll take winning 6 of those 8 games right now, which would give us a 43-39 record heading into the playoffs -- not bad for a team that almost literally crawled back from the dead (an 18-30 record in January).

Spirit Of 76ers

WHEN WE LAST LEFT our merry young band of Philly Sixers last Wednesday night, they were holding off a furious Denver Nuggets rally in the third quarter. Eventually they regained the lead and put Allen Iverson, Camelo Anthony and the rest of the Nuggets away for the narrow 115-113 win. Iverson had hit a loooooooong 3-pointer -- 27 feet long, to be exact -- to tie the game at 113. But as has been the case in the 76ers' recent hot streak, they've been finishing off the close games. On this night it was Slammin' Sammy Dalambert, the Haitian Sensation, who hit the winning lay-up.

But then two days later, they had their first real clunker in about two months, dropping one on the road to Orlando 113-95. The Magic just shot the lights out, hitting 41 of 77 shots from the field, including a sizzling 14-23 from beyond the 3-point line. Saturday the Sixers returned home to face the desperate New Jersey Nets, a team who owned them as recently as last year. The 91-87 win evened the Sixers' record at 34-34 heading into the Monday night showdown in Boston, with the Celtics holding the sport's best mark at 55-14. Well, now it's 55-15 after Philly's 95-90 win, moving the Sixers into sole possession of second place. Not that the 76ers are gonna catch Boston for the Atlantic Division lead, but should the teams meet in the playoffs, it has to be a positive knowing they can beat them on their home court.

The 76ers outscored Boston 29-19 in the decisive fourth quarter, which isn't supposed to happen. Also not in the script is the 76ers' sudden ability to get to the foul line at such a frequent rate. Last night Philly once again had a huge advantage at the free throw line, more than doubling Boston from the line; the Sixers shot 30-44 from the line, while Boston only shot 20 total free throws, converting 15. And that's been the case during the recent streak, which has seen the Sixers win 18 out of their last 23 to climb to the 6th seed in the Eastern playoff race.

The free throw numbers don't just come out of a hat, at least since disgraced NBA ref Tim Donaghy was forced to hang up his crooked whistle; they reflect a few things based on the Sixers' quality play of late. First off, if you're going to the line that means you're usually driving to the basket instead of relying on jumpers. Second, you're boxing out and the other team is having to go through you to get to the rebound. And third, more specifically, it's Sixers' C Sam Dalabert finally learning to play without getting into foul trouble of his own.

Against Boston, as I said, the Sixers shot 24 more free throws than Boston; against the Nets it was 10 more; even in the Orlando loss, the Sixers shot 7 more free throws; and then before that, it was 12 more than Denver and 9 more than San Antonio, and any team with Tim Duncan is gonna get to that line.

I really started to take notice of this trend after the Sixers beat the Bulls in Chicago on the 14th. Philly shot a startling 40-44 from the line (versus only 18-20 for the home team that night). You're gonna win a few ballgames on the road when you can shoot 24 more free throws than your opponent, as even old Jumpin' Jimmy Naismith would tell you if he wasn't already in OT, if you get my drift.

But back to reality, the Sixers have a decent chance of catching at least one team ahead of them in the playoff standings, the 36-33 Washington Wizards, for the fifth seed. Which still wouldn't get homecourt advantage in that first round, most likely against either 3rd-seed Orlando or 4th-seed Cleveland.

Last night, for one night at least, the Sixers proved they could play with the biggest of the big boys. During this hot streak, as well as point guard Andre Miller and C Sam Dalambert have played, their best player night in and night out has been Andre Iguadola. Last night was no exception, as AI2 scored 10 straight points during an incredible 19-0 fourth-quarter run that pulled Philly ahead of Boston.

Count the Celtics themselves among NBA players impressed by the Sixer resurgence. "They will be a dangerous team in the playoffs," noted Paul Pierce after his team fell to Philly in a nationally televised game (at least on cable). Finally the rest of the country will get to see a Sixers team that, outside of Houston, may be the league's hottest team heading into the postseason. With promising but unknown kids like Thaddeus Young, Lou Williams and Willie Green contributing nightly and playing major roles, one thing you can't call this young, emerging Philadelphia team heading into the playoffs is overexposed.

How Bout Them Sixers?!

Out of the ashes of yet another lost season, where their record at one point not so long ago stood at a dismal 18-30, the Philadelphia 76ers have played themselves right back into the thick of the Eastern Conference playoff race, courtesy of a blistering 15-4 mark over their last 19 games, including high-quality wins over powerhouses like Detroit and San Antonio. This hot stretch has included their latest 7 out of 8 streak, with their only defeat coming at the hands of the NBA's best team, the Boston Celtics.

But even that Celtic loss had a positive twist. Philadelphia watched Boston score the game's first 15 points, but refused to throw in the towel, fighting their way back to tie the score at 34, and perhaps sending a message if the teams should meet again in the postseason. Right now the Sixers hold the 6th seed, and would likely square off against either the Pistons or Orlando Magic.

The playoff push continues tonight with a marquee game against old friend Allen Iverson and his Denver Nuggets, also pushing for a postseason berth. How odd that the schedule makers would provide such a fitting opponent for a Sixers team just one game below .500 at 33-34. And the numbers reflect how well this young squad has come together for coach Mo Cheeks. In fact, many of the players reflect back to a devastating loss to the Atlanta Hawks that dropped the Sixers to that 18-30 mark. Philly blew a 20-point lead in that game, and from all accounts it was that sickening feeling of letting one get away that led to the current chemistry that seems to be bonding this 76er team together.

Philly is 12-2 in the second game of their last 14 back-to-back games. Some of that of course is due to the fresh legs, but there are lots of young teams in the NBA and they're not getting it done like that. Right now by the way it's 41-40 Philly over Denver at the Wachovia Center. But it will always the Spectrum in my book. Was there only twice back in the post glory days. It was the mid-80s, a few years after their Moses-led championship peak, but that was still a formidable team the Sixers put out on the court.

Consider that not only was Doctor J still patrolling the upper reaches of the Spectrum (albeit in much less rarefied air those last few seasons; and there was already a new Air up there in the NBA just about due to burst onto the sporting universe), but his fellow forward was none other than a very young Charles Barkley -- still in his Round Mound of Rebound phase and not quite yet the Sir Charles who ultimately took his game elsewhere. Maurice Cheeks was still Cheeks, the ultimate unselfish point guard, smooth as velvet, and one of the most efficient finishers off the break the league has ever seen. Andrew Toney was still there as well, but some tragic knee injuries reduced him to a mere shadow of his lethal jump-shooting self at this point.

It was this Philly Sixer team I watched lose to the Jack Sikma led Milwaukee Bucks sometime in late April of '87 had to be. Less than a minute left in the game, Sixers down by 2, Doc J, as he often did, bringing the ball upcourt in a crucial spot. But instead of swooping in for one last magical dunk, or even one of his patented 17-foot corner bank shots or top of the key jumpers -- which by that time had long replaced much of his free-floating gravity-defying game that shook the basketball world in the 1970s like Jimi Hendrix rocked Woodstock and Monterey in the 1960s -- here was a suddenly mortal Doctor somehow tripping over his own feet at midcourt, feebly turning the ball over, giving it back to the Bucks, deflating a rabidly eager Spectrum crowd, and sending me and Izzy Korman outside into the cruel unforgiving world. In our case it was a long train ride back to New York, but even so how could any Sixers fan hold it against the Doc? He's just fortunate he had already delivered that one shining moment when they finally swept the hated Lakers back to La-La Land.

Which is why I don't think the home Philly crowd will do anything but salute the old A.I. in his first return to his old haunt. I'm a 76ers fan, and while I was glad to see him go last year, I have no hard feelings against Iverson. I will never boo a player for not performing or not getting it done even, as long as they're playing hard, hustling, giving it everything. Fans know Iverson played for the Sixers for too long and too hard to hold a grudge. I'd be shocked if Iverson didn't get at least one standing O early on.

All right! 65-58 Philly at the half! Iverson's got 12, but the new A.I. -- Andre Iguodola -- has 15, leading three Sixers in double figures. You never had three Sixers in double figures at the half when Iverson was here because obviously for better or worse he dominated the ball.

Iverson's replacement and one of the key pieces we got back for him in the trade with the Nugs, Andre Miller, has 13 with 9 assists. That's pretty decent for a half. In fact, Miller has a sky high basketball IQ, and he can control the action like vintage Jason Kidd for long stretches. Witness his recent 7-game stretch where he had an amazing assist to turnover ratio of 49-7. Everyone was calling for the Sixers to trade Miller to a contender, dump the salary, create cap room, etc. Well, now the Sixers are contenders, and it's really due as much to the 32-year-old Miller as to the development of his much younger teammates like Iguadola, Samuel Dalambert, and Willie Green, the shooting guard who returned from missing a few games tonight and contributed 10 points already tonight on 5-6 shooting from the floor.

Boy, Sixer fans should enjoy this team. It's been a long time coming. What's great is how their no-nonsense, defense-first style has won over the Philadelphia fans in a way that's usually reserved for other sports in that crazy town. But this is what sports is all about: a team coming from absolutely nowhere. The 76ers were picked dead last not only in their division by many preseason pickers, but dead last in the Eastern conference. I know Sports Illustrated had 'em picked 15th out of 15. (Hmmm, wonder where the Knicks were picked...) And if you're last in the East, then you're worst in the entire NBA, because even house pets and alien life forms know the West is the Best.

I just get this stupid, crazy feeling that the 76ers may just be destined to making some noise come the playoffs. I don't think many teams are looking forward to their physical style. It's a young, confident, humble team that doesn't know how good it can be. They remind me in that way of another East Coast sports team that peaked at just the right time and beat the can't-lose perfect powerhouse that everyone said couldn't be beaten. Are the Philadelphia 76ers the NBA's version of the Jersey Giants? Hey, you heard it here first and probably last.

Oh balls! Denver came out of the gate smoking in the second half, outscoring the Sixers 17-8 to take a 75-73 lead. Gotta go...

Runnings Of The Mouth

"My whole goal for him was he's got to show me golf is the most important thing in his life. And the most important thing in his life is getting drunk."
Swing coach Butch Harmon on Monday after severing ties with John Daly; on Wednesday Daly was disqualified from the Arnold Palmer Invitational for missing his tee time.

"I felt pretty good. I just didn't get the ball where I wanted to, especially with two strikes. I can get to two strikes. Right now I just don't have an out pitch."
Get ready for another season of excruciating Mike Mussina postgame quotes just like this one, an exhibition loss where he surrendered 5 runs and 6 hits in just 2+ innings.

"Look, this is the deal, folks. All these people that are paranoid about the world come and scream at me everywhere."
Bill Clinton after being booed by anti-NAFTA folks at a Hillary rally. It's always gotta be about Bill.

"I believe that our economy has got the fundamentals in place for us to ... grow and continue growing, more robustly hopefully than we're growing now. So we're still for a strong dollar."
President Bush on the economic "slowdown." Good to know the President supports a strong currency. Go back about your business, Americans; nothing to see here.

"If Obama was a white man, he would not be in this position. And if he was a woman he would not be in this position. He happens to be very lucky to be who he is. And the country is caught up in the concept."
A quote that is this clueless on so many levels is a rare feat, Geraldine Ferraro. Ferraro was "forced" to resign from the Clinton campaign yesterday.

"She is a monster, too -- that is off the record -- she is stooping to anything."
Former Barack Obama adviser Samantha Power on Hillary Clinton; Powers resigned from the campaign last Friday.

"I just don't want to be thought of as a monster."
Ashley Alexander Dupre, aka Kristen, nee Ashley Youmans: one-time "escort" to a now ex-governor. Hey, you had sex with Eliot Spitzer. To paraphrase another disgraced pol, "We feel your pain."

"I cannot allow my private failings to disrupt the people's work."
Former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer in his resignation speech yesterday. And somewhere in Washington, Larry Craig and David Vitter are smiling, still "serving" the people.














"In their investigation of the Eliot Spitzer scandal, law enforcement officials found that the Emperors Club escort service called Spitzer by the code name 'Client 9,' but according to escorts who slept with him, he's more of a 'Client 4 1/2' if you know what I'm saying!"
David Letterman in his all-Spitzer Top 10 List Wednesday night.

"They have another custom, very shameful and beyond all human belief. For their women, being very lustful, cause the private parts of their husbands to swell up to such a huge size that they appear deformed and disgusting, and this is accomplished by a certain device of theirs, the biting of certain poisonous animals. And in consequence of this many lose their organs, which break through lack of attention, and they remain eunuchs."
Amerigo Vespucci, overheard in Old Europe discussing an early form of Viagra in the Americas.

"No one except a fool writes for anything except money."
Samuel Johnson, fast becoming my go-to quote guy among 18th century lexicographers.

The Slits live at Mercury Lounge in New York City

Frequent Mutilation

YOU MISSED A rocking little punky-reggae party the other night at the Mercury Lounge. Punk legends The Slits, reformed and reconstituted, but featuring two count 'em two of the three original members from '79's Cut, gave about 200 fans jammed into the Lounge quite a show for the $10 ticket price. Only thing missing was their terrific take on Heard it Through the Grapevine. Typical Girls came out early, around the 4th song; I would've made that the encore, but then I'm not making out their set list, am I. Out of nowhere came their cover of Fade Away, that haunting song from the great Rockers soundtrack by Junior Byles. That last bit of info supplied by none other than lead Slit Ari Up after the show, when me and Steve asked her about not playing Grapevine and other pressing matters.

Oh did I mention the keyboard player in the Slits' new lineup that night? If I didn't, it's not for the lack of an impression she made on me and every member of at least the male portion of the audience that night. Turns out she's the 22-year-old daughter of ex-Sex Pistols' drummer Paul Cook!

The new songs stood up pretty well against the old ones we knew, and those old ones really hold up all these years later. I didn't think it would sell out even in such a small venue, but that was just stupid on our part, because we spent the better part of an hour outside in the cold trying to score tickets. Finally we did, and the band didn't come on until well after 11:00. But we stuck it out, caught the whole set, then lingered at the bar until we got the old Last Call! I paid for this bit of midweek revelry the next day courtesy of a sharply reduced sleep cycle: home at 3:00 am, back up at 7:00 for work, just like the old punk days, keeping up the spirit in some small way...

Zach Back In Texas

ESPN is reporting that the Cowboys have signed ex-Dolphins LB Zach Thomas to an incentive-laden one-year contract. This looks like a great move for Dallas. Thomas, released by Miami last week, could play the same disruptive role in the 3-4 defense that Junior Seau played for the Patriots the last coupla years. In fact, according to ESPN, Thomas chose the Cowboys over similar offers from New England and New Orleans.

I thought ILB was somewhat of a weak spot for the Cowboys defense last season. That's why I wanted Dallas to pick up Jonathan Vilma. Everyone knew Vilma wasn't gonna return to the Jets next year after David Harris played so well filling in for him last season, and sure enough in the same update that I heard the Thomas-to-Dallas news, ESPN just said Vilma was given permission by the Jets to seek a trade.

Zack Thomas, the former Texas Tech star, is a better fit for the Cowboys. He's an inspirational, gutsy, overachieving player -- and that kind of stuff rubs off on the rest of the team. Thomas is still only 34 years old (Seau just turned 39!), so as long as the concussion trouble doesn't resurface next year, he's got at least 2-3 years left in the tank.

It looks like Dallas will now release Akin Ayodele, who started for them the last few seasons but never really distinguished himself. That gives Dallas a starting linebacker corps of Thomas and Bradie James in the middle, with DeMarcus Ware on one side and either Greg Ellis or Anthony Spencer on the other. That's pretty damn good. You can definitely win with that crew.

At least the Cowboys are making moves, trying to improve. That's all you can ask for as a fan. And Zach Thomas over Akin Ayodele should be an upgrade...hands down, hands up, whichever way you wanna wave 'em. Let's coach 'em up and send 'em out there to hit someone wearing the other jersey!

Shooting From The Dick

(with no apologies to Mike Lupica)

Our research indicates that putting the word dick in the title of a blog post increases readership by up to 75%, which in our case means an additional 3 readers...

"Resolve not to be poor: whatever you have, spend less."
-- Samuel Johnson, 1709-84

So I see where Mitt Romney finally gave up the chase, throwing his considerable heft behind frontrunner John McCain. In fact, Romney pledged all his delegates would now vote for McCain at the Republican convention. All six of them.
Now that Romney has dropped out of the presidential race, the five fighting Romney Boys can sign up with the U.S. military for the fight against Islamo-Fascism that Candidate Mitt has been beating the war drums for -- after all, the Romney Sons are no longer busy campaigning for the old man. I guess as long as it's other dads' kids doing the fighting in the latest war to save civilization, no need to get their hands dirty. Or bloody. Or blown off. Wouldn't make for very good photo ops at the next family volleyball game. George Bush Sr. also is officially supporting McCain. About eight years too late to save not only the country but the rest of the planet from the ruinous consequences of his own deranged scion, I'm afraid.

Saw where Obama visited Edwards at his North Carolina house over the weekend. Gee, I wonder who John Edwards is gonna endorse. He has a better chance of supporting Mike Huckabee than Hillary at this point.

With Edwards, my original choice, out now, I'm going for Barrack Obama. I think Obama would win in a landslide over McCain, but if Hillary was the candidate, given she has more baggage than Samsonite, it would be a much closer face-off once the full weight of the right wing echo machine is brought to bear down on Clinton.

The only way the Democrats were gonna lose this thing is by beating themselves. Hillary is a virtual blueprint for the Republicans; without her they stood no chance going into the fall. McCain is really Bob Dole with a newer war story. The difference is in '96 Clinton had yet to be tainted by scandal, whereas in '08, there's a lot of film on Mrs. Clinton, if you will -- with most if not all of it negative to millions of potential voters...

"I've got great respect for Sen. McCain, great respect, but I don't like the way Republicans have taken this country. Every time I hear the word 'conservative,' it makes me sick to my stomach, because they're really just fake Christians, as I call them. That's all they are.

I think they want to be judge and jury. Like, I'm for gay marriage. It's none of my business if gay people want to get married. I'm pro-choice. And I think these Christians, first of all, they're not supposed to judge other people. But they're the most hypocritical judge of people we have in the country. And it bugs the hell out of me. They act like they're Christians. They're not forgiving at all."
-- Charles Barkley, 1963-present

Dallas Mavericks getting a motivated Jason Kidd back in mega-trade with New Jersey has to give them a leg up in getting out of the Western Conference once the playoffs start.

One weird offshoot of the trade sends one-time Net Keith Van Horn back to New Jersey. Who knew he was still in the league? Turns out he wasn't. He was retired but evidently not officially.

Now, I'm not making this up -- and why would I -- but I had a dream the other night, maybe last night, where Van Horn went into the stands and beat the hell out of a guy who was heckling him. Actually, the fan was right under the basket with his young kid, and after a string of obscenities hurled at Van Horn, he just lost it and hit the guy with a bunch of punches. I don't know what to make of the dream, just glad there were no sexual overtones in it. But probably not nearly as glad as you all are.

Rented three terrific movies over the last week or so: Art School Confidential, Waitress and Interview ... all kinda indie movies of fairly recent vintage, each unique in its own way, and highly recommended. In fact, I watched Art School twice before returning it, although the second time was over Bob & Holly's apartment.

When I picked up Art School I didn't even know it was directed by Terry Zwigoff, who it turns out directed two of my all-time favorite films: Crumb and Ghost World. Now add this to that panetheon, because it's that good.

Waitress was directed by the late Adrienne Shelley, who was murdered in her own NYC apartment last year. It stars her as well as Cheryl Hines, Keri Russell and Andy Griffith, the tale of a smalltown diner and some characters who intersect there. Man, I gotta tell you I lost it at the end there, not only because of the story itself, which is quite moving, but just knowing that this was the last film Shelley would be in. If you are not feeling a little kerplect there at the end, I almost feel sorry for your lack of sentimentality, which apparently is quite fashionable these days. In the end, you might say Waitress is kind of what a Lifetime Original Movie would be like if was directed by someone like Hal Hartley.

Interview is really just that: the story of a jaded journalist forced to interview a young Lindsay Lohan-type celebutard. Steve Buscemi directs and plays the journalist, with Sienna Miller quite good as the self-involved starlet. But conventions and preconceptions are turned on their head and then back again, as is the definition of voyeurism. I really dug the way this film effectively opened up a whole world as it played out in real time. It's stupid to rate movies in my opinion, but let's just say I didn't want the movie to end when it did, and would've been happy with another hour or so of Buscemi and Miller going at it.

More Pearls of Wisdom from Sir Charles:
"They've got what we call 'fuck-you' money. Stephon Marbury makes $20 million a year ... so he'll always do things his way."

The Longest Year

And then there was none -- as in no more football games this year -- and a whole long year to wait before thankfully some other team (any other team, please!) besides the Jersey Giants will be called Champions. Now, you would have to buy into the notion that the Pro Bowl is an actual football game. That is a real stretch, I know...

I watched a total of about 20 minutes of the game -- forgot it was on or I would have watched a lot more. After all, I am a pro football fanatic and a Dallas Cowboys diehard. And there were a total of 13 Cowboys participating in the Pro Bowl.

The 20 minutes I caught was not the 20 minutes during which Tony Romo threw his 2 touchdowns or T.O. caught his 2. But they were keeping score, and it's always better to play well and win a game than to play badly and lose.

So the Cowboys go into the offseason not with a lot of question marks personnel-wise, but more along the lines of character, chemistry and coaching. I don't have the answers any more than they do, because any team other than the Giants will have something to prove next year ... starting with the formerly perfect Patriots, then progressing down in terms of heartbreaking disappointing exit from the postseason through to Green Bay, Indy, Dallas, San Diego.

Dallas has two #1 picks in the upcoming draft, so that's something to live for as a fan. We made some coaching changes also, something most 13-3 teams don't go through, but Bill Parcells saw fit to raid our staff after taking over the 1-15 Dolphins. So the Cowboys lost their offensive line coach, linebackers coach, etc., as well as head of scouting and a few other execs.

But after the shakeout, I think the changes were for the better, especially getting Hudson Houck back to coach this talented offensive line. Dave Campo also returns to the fold to mold the secondary, which itself could have a few new parts despite sending three players to Hawaii. Both those elements are among the most important areas of a football team. If you're solid and well-coached there, you're gonna be competitive; and the reverse is also painfully true, especially in the NFC East, which proved itself the League's most balanced division once again.

One thing that lifted my spirits ever so slightly following this debacle of an NFL season, whereby the top-seeded Pokes were oh-so-unceremoniously bounced out of the playoffs in the first round once again, was Giants DE Mike Strahan declaring that it was the Cowboys, not the Pats, who were the best team he faced this year. I don't think he would say if it wasn't true, because obviously after 15 years in the league battling the 'Boys, there can't be any love lost there.

That the Cowboys are talented is not in question. Parcells did leave them in pretty good shape personnel wise. He had his share of bad draft picks, everyone does, but he has to get a lot of credit for assembling most of those 13 All Star-quality players.
What is very much in question is their mindset as a team, their collective mental outlook heading into next season -- especially Tony Romo, the player who the rest of the team feeds off. If they can use this year's playoff ouster at the hands of the hated Giants as motivational fodder, then that Pats-like chip on their shoulder might even elevate their level of play demonstrated in building their 12-1 start in 2007. As my old high school English teacher Sy Syna used to repeatedly intone, We Shall See What We Shall See. How can you argue with logic like that?

Down To This

Funny how politics and sports intersect, with Super Bowl Sunday and Super Primary Tuesday so close to each other, and the fate of winners & losers and has-beens & also-rans at stake.

And in elections and football alike, you go first with who you love, then who you like, until finally there's no one left who fits that description and so you go against that which you hate for as long as it takes until there's no one left to root for.

In politics this week, both the guy I hated most of all, Rudy Giuliani, and the candidate I was hoping would win, John Edwards, were forced to drop out on the same day. So now you're left with Clinton versus Obama on one side, and McCain against Romney on the other. That's it. Basically a year to go and the Final Four is set.

In football, the team that gave me so many highs this year, the Cowboys, were bounced out three weeks ago against the Rudy Giuliani of NFL teams, the Giants, who then, proving that we indeed live in the worst of all possible worlds, shot right into the Super Bowl. Waiting for them, however, are not just any football team, but the Tammany Hall of sports teams, the New England Patriots, led by Bill "Boss Hoody" Belichick. New England is ready to dot the 'i' on another championship season, their 4th in 7 years -- this one a perfect landslide of a campaign: 19-0 if they can beat the Jersey Giants this afternoon. But even perfection in this case is not necessarily unblemished, as rumors of corruption in the form of extra-legal shenanigans on the Patriots' part refuse to die -- stoked most recently by none other than Mr. Single Bullet Theory himself:

"A senior Republican senator says he wants the NFL to explain why it destroyed evidence of the New England Patriots cheating scandal.

"I am very concerned about the underlying facts on the taping, the reasons for the judgment on the limited penalties and, most of all, on the inexplicable destruction of the tapes," said Sen. Arlen Specter, R-Pa., in a Thursday letter to NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell.

Back to the game at hand, it would not, repeat not, shock me if the Giants win. That's the kind of crazy year it's been. The Patriots have not blown the doors off a team in a long while, Randy Moss has been dormant so far in the postseason, and their defense can be scored on. Add to it a loose Giants team that doesn't make mistakes, has proven it can run the ball and make big plays in the passing game, with a loose, blitz-happy defense that has made its mark in their 3 playoff games. Of course, the team that doesn't turn the ball over, commit costly penalties or give up the big play has a much better chance of emerging victorious. At least that's what the experts are saying this year.
That said, the one number that jumps out when looking at both teams' 2007 seasons is this: the Pats outscored their opponents by an astounding 335 points, while the Giants squeaked by with a net gain of just +39, with a schedule that included some of the worst teams in football: Dolphins, Niners, Falcons, Jets. With two weeks off, I also think you will see a Pats team that resembles the earlier part of the season, the one that flat out dominated teams through the first 8 or 9 weeks, while the Giants best asset was the momentum it had built up while racking up road wins in Tampa Bay, Dallas and Green Bay. The two weeks off will have the opposite effect on them, and combined with a conservative offensive game plan, the Patriots have an excellent chance of roaring out to a sizable early lead -- something on the order of 21-3 or 28-7.

My final score, given that Super Bowls are rarely defensive struggles, at least on the scoreboard, is 48-20. Lawrence Maroney is the surprise MVP, with 3 TDs and 154 yards rushing. I would have loved for my team to even get the chance to be on the wrong side of a rout, but for some unknowable reason the football gods were not smiling down through the Whole in the Roof, and so Dallas came up 21-17 losers against the Giants. Next year everyone starts 0-0 again, and it's anyone's guess who will or won't be back to the Big Show.

Mass Rejection

On the occasion of the President's last (hopefully) State of the Union address, during which he will undoubtedly try to break his own record for using the word "freedom" in a speech, we address the latest political developments in this mean season...where Democrat turns on Democrat and Republicans joyously bash each other in desperate hope of mass approval. It's a sick system, but it's ours so we will pretend to love it as long as the trains keep running and the fast-food windows stay open well past midnight.

What makes it especially joyous is how poorly one Rudolph Ghouliani is faring so far in the primaries. It warms my heart to see the man rejected by so many groups of people in so many different areas of the country. Yet there he was the other day on the campaign trail in Florida gamely jabbing at the air with those spastic arms of his flailing about. At his side at one Florida venue were pseudo-celebrities like New York Yankees outfielder Johnny Damon, proving that baseball players are consistently among the dumbest athletes in all of professional sports, ranking just ahead of ultimate fighters and NBA street ballers, as well as once-promising actor Jon Voigt, perhaps providing insight into why daughter Angelina Jolie wants nothing to do with him anymore.

Witnessing the sweet failure of Candidate Rudy, one of the more dispiriting, soul-crushing people to ever occupy a place in our depraved American diaspora, is reminiscent of that famous scene in the Wizard of Oz where the Wicked Witch literally melts into the floor, only Rudy's humiliation will play out agonizingly over the next few weeks. And behold, because there was great rejoicing and shouting unto the heavens, such was the joy of the faces of the people. Or something like that.

It now looks like John McCain will be the presumptive nominee. No way a plastic man like Mitt Romney will continue fooling people too far into the future. The guy will change his values and his opinions and even attempt to rewrite his past public record as he goes. Say what you like, but McCain is too damn stubborn to change now, and he will present a formidable challenger to the Democratic candidate, especially if that turns out to be Hillary Clinton -- a candidate with so much negative baggage that she would be the only one of this year's main contenders with the ability to turn the election in the Republicans' favor.
Let's put it this way. Nobody hates conservatives and right-wingers more than me, yet even the prospect of a Hillary presidency freaking these people out over a four- or eight-year period is not enough to sway me. In fact, were Hillary to capture the nomination, having to hold my nose and vote for the Manchurian Candidate against the Republicans would be a lot like what I'm faced with in the upcoming Super Bowl: rooting for the hated Patriots to emerge victorious because I detest the Giants just that little bit more -- a hate forged of a thousand burning volcanoes.

This is not the time for another Clinton, Hillary or Bill. Even before Bill starting making an ass of himself recently on the campaign trail with his jabs at Barack Obama, I was against an American presidential cycle playing itself out over 30 years as Bush-Clinton-Bush-Clinton. It's not good for the country, it's not good for business, it's not right for the customer. But I digress...

Caught John Edwards on Letterman last week. The guy seems genuine to me, and I believe his economic message has resonance in this savage Darwinistic economy we find ourselves in. Not that this rich trial lawyer was channeling Eugene Debs or something, but speaking truth to entrenched, fixed economic power has been a long time coming, and his stump speech contains a lot of truth in it. I believe a lot of voters would've been receptive to his anti-greed, anti-corruption, anti-lobbyist message. I was hoping Edwards would win, and ultimately team with Obama on the Democratic ticket. But it looks like there's no stopping Obama now, fresh off his trouncing of Team Clinton in North Carolina.

Boy, that love affair America had with Fred Thompson sure came and went, didn't it? There's only so far that spouting cornpone platitudes will get you, even if you announce your candidacy on the Jay Leno show. I saw through this guy's faux Reagan routine from jump street, and the rest of the country soon thereafter. I think Romney is next to fall, even if he still has a fortune to spend literally buying each vote one at a time. I don't know what that leaves, but as the residency of George W. Bush comes to its merciful close, it's shaping up as a McCain-Obama title fight, and I would put my money on the energetic up-and-comer against the grizzled old veteran. Politics, like boxing, is still a young man's game. McCain can also be a scary dude when you see the blood rushing to his face and he starts repeatedly pointing his finger out at the audience for emphasis, what some might call playing to his base.
Obama continues to tap into something unseen in American politics since JFK last strode to a podium over 40 years ago. As the major endorsements continue to roll in, I would not wager large sums of money against his continued ascension to the presidency. Only a fool, or a Republican operative, would tell you different. Some would tell you they're one and the same.