"Come play on MY team guys! I have already won a championship."

So I guess my first problem would be that coverage for this started immediately after the Lakers defeated the Celtics in the championship.  Unless you lived in L.A., the analysis of the NBA free-agent period began during the Lakers locker-room celebration.  I mean I didn’t mind (I despise the Lakers), but I don’t need someone reporting on how LeBron James, D-Wade, and Chris Bosh are all friends or what they are doing every single minute of every single day.

For all those people who complain about the NFL Draft coverage: this puts that to shame.  ESPN had mock signings, former coaches breaking down how it would work if certain players went to certain teams, video game demonstrations of how successful those teams would be, former GMs showing how those teams would have to balance out their salaries, and fan-reactions if certain players were acquired by their beloved team.

Give me a break.  Finally the day came when these players actually could sign with a team, and the picture became a bit clearer.  Wade and Bosh are teaming up in Miami; Boozer is headed to the Bulls, and Stoudemire is on his way to the Knicks.  This was news; I didn’t have any problems with this being broadcast all over the sports nation.  However, I did find it a little odd that every player had to deal with the “Are you planning on reaching out to LeBron James?” question about two questions into their respective interviews.

Then came the real head-scratcher.   ESPN agreed to run a 3-hour SportsCenter edition including an hour-long segment at the end entitled “The Decision,” which would be dedicated to LBJ’s free-agent decision (at LeBron’s request, in the name of charity though…of course).  I never thought ESPN could top “Favre-Watch” (which aired every day, two years ago during the NFL off-season), but they found a way with this.

"Please don't make me have to play in Cleveland...PLEASE!"

Now, I understand that James came to ESPN with the idea and they jumped all over it (because that is what a sports station should do), but how in love with yourself do you have to be to plan an hour long segment on national TV for two or three words? And then give it a dramatic title too?  How much of an ego-stroke is it to have your free-agent signing decision scheduled?  Not like a mandatory signing-day or an announcement—a set time and place, and then turn it into a show.  I remember when Jordan decided to come back and he announced it by simply stating, “I’m back.”  Or, if you want to make an argument about how technology has changed the way the sports world is reported on, how about tweeting about it like Kevin Durant just did about his extension?  I know he knows all about Twitter (thanks to ESPN and its keen reporting skills alerting me that James recently opened a Twitter account).

Which brings me to my final point: when did LeBron get to the status that would warrant such coverage?  I know he is an NBA freak – arguably the best there is – but how many championships has “The Chosen One” racked up in the seven years he has been playing?  The guy is great, don’t get me wrong, but he has done nothing except prove he is an amazing individual.  He has no team accolades and the team is supposed to be what this is all about.

Not only that, but he has no real option that should warrant that sort of coverage.  If he decided to come to Miami and join Wade and Bosh, it was be ridiculous.  Three superstars uniting to achieve one goal: a championship.  However, he would always be remembered as the greatest basketball player ever who NEEDED other superstars to win a title.  Sure Jordan had Pippen, Rodman and the rest of that awesome team, but there was only one “Jordan” on that squad, not two.  New Jersey and New York (even with the recent addition of Stoudemire) both stink.  They have plenty of money, but zero talent and there are only so many free agents this season to choose from.  So they are both rebuilding projects and he would be entering the same situation – or worse – than he was walking away from in Cleveland.  If he goes with Boozer to Chicago, he will be LeBron in MJ’s town.  Even if he wins two or three titles, they aren’t taking that Jordan statue down and erecting one of “King James” (and yes, he is that vain to let that hinder his decision).

"I WANT YOU to help me win a championship!

Cleveland is his best bet.  They need to make some serious moves this year, and the next two or three, but they have the money to and if he wins there he can be a legend.  So in my opinion, this free-agency thing is a waste of time.  It doesn’t matter where LeBron goes because he won’t have a real shot unless he crosses his fingers and prays for help while staying in Cleveland.  The real story is Wade and Bosh joining forces (because they could easily dominate the East over the next few years), not LeBron and his “decision,” and it takes about 15 minutes to cover it, not two months.

Besides, if these guys really only cared about winning, why didn’t any of them show any interest in playing with Dwight Howard and the Magic?  You know those teams would have gladly re-worked their finances to lock-up one of them.  So please quit wasting my time with all this coverage and analysis over free-agency (especially with LeBron, at least until he wins one…if he ever does)—just feed me baseball highlights and wake me if the Sixers sign one of these guys.

For my first post since my daughter was born in September, I thought I’d take things slowly, rail against the current goings-on in sports and pop culture that keep me up at night, and call it a day.

**Because I am a devoted fan of college basketball but equally as dedicated to my hatred of the NBA, I’m puzzled at what happens between the time sure-fire lottery picks sleep through the first semester of class (c’mon, you think DeMarcus Cousins is taking copious notes during College Comp 101?) during their freshman year and they walk up to the podium to accept the flat-brimmed hat of their new NBA team. My allegiance lies squarely with the ‘Cuse in the NCAA, but I couldn’t tell you what Jonny Flynn did this year in the NBA, and I’m certain the same will hold true for Wes Johnson. But, hey, at least they get to toil together as Timberwolves.

Now, as I watched the epic College World Series clincher by South Carolina last night, I had to wonder why baseball doesn’t suffer the same fate as its more athletic NBA counterpart. I mean these kids are going berserk after the third out of any inning, locking arms in the dugout during big at-bats, and donning rally caps while passing around superstitious Vanilla Wafers.

Put me in coach! I'm ready to give you 30% of what I got!

The answer really wasn’t that difficult—coaching. Without a self-aggrandizing John Calipari or Rick Pitino on the sidelines, these kids play for their coaches in college, so doing the same thing for the MLB managers isn’t a stretch. There is a respect for the game and for its elder statesmen in baseball that is conspicuously absent in the NBA. Again, does anyone think any of the players who just left Kentucky is going to miss Calipari or is amped for an opportunity to play for Stan Van Gundy? Doubt it.**

**When is Doc Halladay going to walk into the clubhouse after another start that only asked for three or four runs of support, which then resulted in a loss, and start cracking skulls? This guy does his job every fifth day and is rewarded with two runs, six hits, and twelve LOB. Blech.**

**Let me tell you what I think about this LBJ, Wade, Bosh “summit” in Miami last weekend—nothing. In fact, this bullet point is as much thought as I’ve devoted to anything NBA related in nine years. Go ahead, play together. Win together. Ride around on boats together. The NBA already has watered down 94% of itself (that’s right, I did the math), so creating a triumvirate of power in Miami means the other 5% can join in the irrelevant par-tay. Have at it, boys.**

**As a follow up to my months-old contribution to the Almost Punchable Celebrity

With a face like this...

column, I was just treated with a radio spot for 7UP voiced by none other than that lovable baritone, Brad Garrett. The commercial played on the dichotomy between Garrett’s surly exterior and his hidden love for the soft drink, so he’d grunt in his trademark voice and then take it up an octave to express his pleasure. If you’re bored by this bullet, you can join the six Garrett fans who feel the same way about his work.**

Brett Favre.

No matter what color the uniform, or how old he is, this image of Brett seems to be a constant. (AP Photo/Hannah Foslien)

As a huge Brett Favre fan, I must point out that not only did he throw 33 touchdowns to only 7 interceptions in the regular season, but he only had one multi-pick game (against Arizona when they were embarrassed on Sunday Night Football because their offensive line didn’t make the plane to Tempe).  He didn’t tire out at the end of the year, and despite Adrian Peterson not having big rushing games (because everyone insisted if he had success it would be because A.D. was averaging 400 yards a game), he even managed to take over and dominate a few of these games.  Favre helped his team finish 2^nd in the league in points-per-game, 5^th in total yards, and 8^th in total passing yards.  He made Sidney Rice (whose career was dying in Minnesota) look like the second-coming of Jerry Rice.

However, even after all this success there was still the thought that Favre would choke under the playoff pressure.  So in comes Dallas, arguably the hottest team coming into the playoffs, and what happens?  Favre and

About 90% of the NFL-watching population had no idea who this kid was, until Favre became his quarterback.

the Vikings take them out to the woodshed.  Favre throws for four touchdowns (each more amazing than the previous), zero interceptions, and the Viking defense shut down an over-rated Cowboys O.

I just want to point that out that no matter what happens to the Vikings, whether it be in the next game or in the Super Bowl, Favre has more than proved he is still one of the best.  Maybe it was time for him to go in Green Bay, maybe it wasn’t, but we will never know.  All we have to go on now is the enormous amount of success he is having with the purple and gold…GO VIKINGS!

Moving on to something that I have to comment on…Gilbert Arenas.  For all those people who sat back and thought “Wow, how dumb is Plaxico Burress?” Arenas decided to prove there was someone dumber.  As the story goes, after an argument over unpaid gambling debts with teammate Javaris Crittenton, the two pulled guns on each other.  And if that wasn’t enough, it wasn’t like the two of them were there for a team meeting and snuck them in, oh no, they both had guns (plural) stored in their lockers.  I guess for all the gang violence that takes place at practice?

Are you kidding me?  Arenas claimed that he had brought them from his home to his locker so his children would not find them and play with them.  How noble.  Buy a safe idiot, hide them where your kids can’t reach, put them in a room and lock the door, I mean how many other options are there before you think “I got it! I’ll just bring them to work.”  Imagine a regular person doing that, “Morning Sally, the meeting is still at 10 right? Oh, don’t mind these, I don’t want my kids playing with them.” You would be fired immediately.

Nice Gilbert, way to try and play it all off as a joke. People always pull guns on other people in jest, I could see the misunderstanding.

That must have been the same logic Arenas used when he tried to play this whole thing off as a prank. Or perhaps when he turned his hands into six-shooters during a pregame “dance” before they played the Sixers, to show how much of jokester he is.  As you can imagine, NBA Commissioner David Stern took action, suspending Arenas indefinitely.  Then the legal department stepped in, and Arenas now has to wait until March to find out what kind of sentencing he will receive.  NBA commissioner David Stern has yet to make a decision on what will happen to Arenas after his sentencing (hopefully his career is done).  The team is left scrambling for an answer, but they are just as guilty as he is in my eyes.

Get this: the Wizards organization said they had known about the guns in his locker – apparently he had informed them about the guns when he first brought them in – and they “never thought something like this would come of it.”  Really? I would love to hear them describe the situations that they thought might arise from having firearms in a locker room.  As if the NBA couldn’t be any worse (or more out of control) they decide a good P.R. move would be to let athletes have guns in their lockers?  This way fans get more of a “Beirut circa 1975” feeling when they come to games.

Sure it's a joke, but it's not too far off from what this whole scandal has done to his golden-boy image.

We start with Tiger Woods.  There isn’t much to say about this other than “wow.”  Who would have thought that precious, golden-boy Tiger would be cheating on his wife with – not one – but nine women.  It was so bad that one of his first mistresses couldn’t even handle it, confessing that she couldn’t take how many women he was seeing at the same time (yea, tough break, imagine how his wife must feel).  The only thing worse than this is having your wife beat you up with a golf club (which defines irony) so bad that when you go to run away from her in your SUV, you crash onto your neighbor’s lawn…nice.  Of course Tiger has yet to actually speak on the matter, so all that is speculation, but the longer he waits to finally come out and talk, the worse this story is going to get.  Do yourself a favor, Tiger, confess and move on – it worked for Kobe, it worked for A-Rod, it’ll work for you.

We move along to a much more heart-warming story…for me at least. Allen Iverson returned to the Sixers this past week, and debuted this past Monday against the Nuggets.  Sure it was a losing effort, and A.I. isn’t the same as he used to be, but there is something about seeing that ol’ #3 run around that court that just scratches me

I almost wept like a 6-year-old girl when I saw this intro. (Photo by Jesse D. Garrabrant/NBAE via Getty Images)

right where I itch.  After watching his second game against the Pistons, I thought to myself how everyone must be enjoying this, except Andre Iguodala.  Here is a guy who was told the Sixers were his team, that he is the new A.I. and that Philly is now his city.  Well so much for that.  Iguodala and the rest of the Sixers were lucky if four fans and a homeless man (strictly there for the running water and heat) came to watch their games.  Since “the Answer” has returned, two back-to-back sellouts.  That has to sting a little.  Finally, for all those who don’t like this move because Iverson could be a bad influence…you are idiots.  This team stinks and there is no future here for A.I. to corrupt – at least now we get to watch some close-to-decent basketball being played while Iverson – who certainly is not the same caliber player he left Philly as – shows everyone what he has left.

On to college football.  How bout that Lane Kiffin?  His first full year at Tennessee results in a winning season, no SEC Title, no major bowl bid, and no quality wins.  Yet somehow Lane has managed to make Tennessee the most talked about program in all of college football.  He has been caught committing six secondary NCAA violations, and is currently being investigating for the best one of them all – using sex to recruit.

"What can I say gentlemen...sex sells!"

Apparently, the Volunteers coach was not only using females to ensure his recruits had a good visit on campus (like all colleges do, everyone who has seen the movie He Got Game knows how that works), but Kiffin made sure his recruits kept Tennessee in mind when they were at home.  The story goes that he would send certain women “Volunteers” to travel to players’ home towns to watch them play and help “convince” them to come to Ole Rocky Top.  Some of these girls – now being referred to as “hostesses” – would travel as far as 200 miles to help Lane recruit.  Again, all hearsay, but this one looks to be true and the only thing that is missing is a Lane Kiffin apology and some photos of what these women look like to complete this wonderful, wholesome college football story.

            For years of arguments fallen on deaf ears.

            For what I was convinced was compelling evidence for my case.

            For what I knew to be an immutable fact about Michael Jordan.

            MJ is an awful person.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall...

            My deep-seated loathing for the NBA’s greatest player is so multifaceted, so layered, so complex that I could never do it (or my readers) justice by laying it out in full on our modest little blog, but suffice it to say that no matter where Jordan’s ego takes him next, or more appropriately, where it takes him from, I’ll always have his Hall of Fame induction speech to remind me that I was, for once, completely right.

***********************************************************************************            

             As a ravenous fan of the NBA in its relative heyday, 1980-1994 (RIP NBA), I, like all youngsters, had to make difficult choices about my team allegiances, my favorite players, and my love-to-hate ballers.  For whatever reason, I never gravitated toward Jordan despite the fact that such a show of fandom would have been so easy given that any hot-blooded American kid, who loved hoops, loved Jordan.  But even at age 12, I knew that something about the guy just wasn’t for me, so I found myself aligning with the Detroit Pistons and their heralded leader, Isiah Thomas.  To this day, I don’t know what drew me to Zeke other than that he was not MJ.

            Hell, maybe it was just the tongue.

            Fast forward to 1994 when assembly of the world’s finest International Basketball team, aptly dubbed “The Dream Team,” was just wrapping up with one insanely obvious oversight. 

            Hall of Fame point guard, Isiah Thomas.

Thanks to MJ, Zeke was "frozen out" of the original Dream Team.

            Isiah Thomas, who was widely considered the best point guard in the league at that time and for most of his career.

             Isiah Thomas, who led his team to back to back championships in 1988-1989 and 1989-1990.

             Isiah Thomas, who scored 25 points in a quarter in the 1988 Finals while playing on a severely sprained ankle.

             Isiah Thomas, who had a very public feud with MJ for most of his career.

            But this isn’t about Zeke, whose post-playing career has taken on a very sad life of its own, because as Jordan himself will tell you, and he did during his speech, it’s always about Jordan.

********************************************************************************

             In the interest of full disclosure, I didn’t even watch the inductions.  Later, I felt a bit guilty about letting Jordan get in the way of enjoying the moment for two of the game’s most dignified ambassadors, David Robinson and John Stockton, both of whom served the league with grace, and for Stockton, with an insistence on making other players around him better, an ironic dichotomy to Jordan’s career.  But as I started to hear about the speech and field emails from friends who know how I feel about Jordan, I couldn’t resist the morbid curiosity any longer.

            The following is a brief breakdown of the most narcissistic speech in Hall of Fame history:

           1. Of course I can’t be certain, but when Jordan mentioned that he “shocked the shit” out of David Thompson by asking him to stand up for Jordan during the ceremony, we may have heard the HOF’s first swear word during an induction speech.

            2. By inviting Leroy Smith, the player kept instead of MJ during his sophomore season in high school, Jordan reminded his old coach that “you made a mistake, dude,” while simultaneously diminishing anything Smith has ever done because, let’s face it, he’s not Jordan.

            3. After bitterly rehashing his high school career, it only made sense to move chronologically to his next victim, Dean Smith. Only the second most lauded coach in college hoops history (Wooden), Jordan undressed Smith for not naming him as the fifth starter during a Sports Illustrated interview in 1981.

            4. Next was his tirade against the Bulls front office, in particular former GM Jerry Krause with whom Jordan had a very contentious relationship despite the fact that Krause built what many consider the greatest team of all time, the 1996 (72-10) team, around MJ even after he abruptly retired in 1993.

            5. At one point, Jordan reminded the audience that he “played with the flu” in Utah and sucked it up on various other occasions to play while hurt.  I won’t bring up Isiah Thomas’s foot injury in the playoffs again, but clearly Jordan feels he’s the only player in the game to have played under adverse conditions.

            6. After just about twenty minutes of bitterness, Jordan finally addressed his children and, only by association, his ex-wife.

            7. Next, Jordan took a potshot at rising ticket prices for the HOF inductions.  He does so by complaining that the $1000 price per ticket was exorbitant because he had so many people to bring in for the event.

            8. He would clearly be remiss not to mention the now infamous “freeze out” in the 1984 All-Star Game.  Allegedly spearheaded by Thomas, several Eastern Conference All-Stars vowed, silently, to not pass Jordan the ball in a passive aggressive show of disapproval of the attention Jordan commanded.  Jordan went on to say that such a tactic really didn’t bother him.

             9. Up next on Jordan’s radar was Hall of Fame coach, Pat Riley.  Author of several scintillating Lakers teams in the ‘80s, Knicks teams in the ‘90s, and, most recently, Heat teams in the ‘00s, Riley and Jordan’s history goes back to Riley’s time with the Knicks during which he publicly proclaimed that he would do whatever he had to to stop Jordan, and MJ felt in necessary to remind Riley that he failed.

             10. After a totally unnecessary and petty shot at former Knicks coach Jeff Van Gundy, Jordan reminded people that he would do whatever necessary to win, including “playing a team game,” which begs the question, “what else would he do in a team sport?”

Hey, if I'm in your way, just go ahead and move me, MJ.

             11. At the end of his now almost 30-minute speech, Jordan saved room for an anecdotal jab at former Jazz player Bryon Russell.  Russell, who was famously cleared out of Jordan’s way during a game winning shot in the 1997 Finals against Utah, commented during Jordan’s retirement that if Jordan ever were to put on a pair of shorts again, Russell would stop him.  Again, Jordan felt his HOF speech was the most appropriate time to remind Russell that he was, in fact, wrong.

             12. Jordan bookended his speech by quipping that he confided in friends that he was going to accept his enshrinement by simply walking to the podium, saying ‘thank you’ and sitting down.  Whether intended as a joke or not, such arrogance seemed all too fitting for “his Airness.”

 **************************************************************************

             Of course, what was left out of any speech, any interview, and any video montage of Jordan’s career was the sordidness that his astounding talent helped overshadow.  No mention of his admitted gambling addiction, something which ESPN’s Bill Simmons attributes to Jordan’s first retirement by asserting that league commissioner, David Stern, urged Jordan to walk away from the game before he dragged it down with his gambling problem.  No mention of his, by all accounts, absentee parenting (as evidenced by his children being an afterthought in his speech).  No mention of his womanizing and subsequent bribe of $250,000 to keep such an affair quiet.

             Now, I understand that the HOF induction ceremony is no place to air dirty laundry about Jordan.  So why was it so difficult for Jordan to make the same distinction? Ultimately, underneath the veneer he’s worked so hard to establish (and then whore out to any endorsement deal that came down the pike), Jordan is a completely insecure, egomaniacal (yes, they go hand-in-hand) child who just happens to be the greatest basketball player of all time.  After this speech, what he’ll be remembered for most will remain forever blurry.

A.I. stepping over Tyronn Lue after he buries a jumper - might be the greatest jumper ever.

Fast forward eight years and all of those players have fallen off the map.  Eric Snow’s career died in Cleveland, Georgey Lynch was never the same after that season (probably because of that massive ankle injury he played through), and Aaron, the Sixth Man of the Year that season, tried to keep going, but came up short.  Matt Geiger never did anything productive after that season (not that he did too much during that season) and Tyrone Hill is probably in a museum, or on a farm scaring animals and children away (he might be the ugliest man ever).

Mutombo and Iverson were different.  Mutombo bounced around for a while until his career was rejuvenated in Houston – backing up the injury-prone Yao Ming. But Allen, he was a different story altogether.  Iverson never played in an atmosphere like he had in Philly (shoot the ball constantly and have everyone else play D and rebound for him) and he suffered because of it.  The day that my favorite Sixer left was the beginning of the end for A.I.  He went to Denver in a trade that brought us Andre Miller (great point guard) and immediately showed signs of hitting the wall.  He ended the year with 24.8 points per game – his lowest since his ’97-’98 season when he was still “The Question” – and he just couldn’t handle sharing the spotlight with Carmelo Anthony.

After two years, Denver had enough and traded Iverson to Detroit where he would struggle accepting his new role as a bench player.  The ten-time NBA All-star ended the year averaging just 17.4 points a game and having the proverbial finger pointed at him as the reason the Pistons didn’t make the playoffs.  Now, for the first time in his career, Iverson is a free agent and it seems nobody wants him.  There have been rumors of Iverson playing with Dwayne Wade in Miami, taking his show to Memphis, or to the New York Knicks, or – the most realistic rumor – playing for the L.A. Clippers.

Things have gotten so bad for Iverson (and I use bad loosely because he still is a pro athlete playing a sport that guarantees money regardless of performance) that he may be taking his act overseas.   The Greek basketball team, the Olympiakos, have offered A.I. a two-year, $10 million contract.

"Please don't make me play in Greece! I'll be a team player! Please NO!"

“The Answer” has yet to comment on if he will sign, but many think it’s the best deal he is going to get.  I never thought I’d see the day where ole #3’s best offer was going to be from a team in the Balkan Peninsula.

The same reasons Philly fans fell in love with him – his heart, his grit, his toughness and his talent – is now being overshadowed by his selfishness, his inability to be a team player and his desire to have the ball in any situation (which I still admire).  I just pray that a team makes an offer to him and he cleans up his act for just one more season, just to save his career.  It pains me to imagine some kid in Greece gathering all of his friends at his house to eat hummus and baklava during an Olympiakos championship game.

OK, first there was the semi-outrageous, but still slightly funny story about former New Jersey Nets and current San Antonio Spurs star Richard Jefferson calling off his wedding at almost the 11^th hour to a Nets cheerleader/dancer. There are rumors that it was so last minute, people actually started showing up for the ceremony that wasn’t happening. Now, this is by no means an ideal situation. It’s always best to know well ahead of time whether one wants to get married or not. Subsequently, Jefferson was grilled a little in the press. However, let’s think about this. What would have been the ultimate transgression here? I think it would have been entering into a loveless marriage when Jefferson knew he didn’t want any part of it. I actually give the guy some props for being a man and stepping up to admit he made a mistake, no matter how late it was. Therefore…

Perceived Indiscretion: Leaving a would-be bride at the altar.

Real Indiscretion: Getting married when it’s not the right move.

Can I have everyone's attention please? Leave them girls alone.

Next, there’s the tragic event surrounding the murder of former boxing champion Arturo Gatti. The lightweight and welterweight pugilist was found strangled in a Brazilian hotel room a few weeks back. His wife, Amanda Rodrigues, is being charged with first degree homicide since Gatti’s blood was found on her purse strap, and since there was reportedly no one else to come into the room but her. It’s alleged that Rodrigues just could not explain why she didn’t notice Gatti was dead with her in the room for ten hours before someone else found him. Now, here’s a little background: It’s also alleged that the Gatti/Rodrigues union was a tumultuous one, punctuated by numerous domestic disturbances. Now, even though I’m a minor Gatti fan (I think his three fights with Micky Ward are among the best in boxing history), I can’t condone hitting a lady, if he did. That’s just not right. However, I’m not sure he deserved to be killed for it. See, Gatti’s wife was a former stripper. Now, that’s not necessarily a judgment across the board. After all, I love strippers. However, I think most folks can admit that many strippers (not all) have issues, especially with men. Gatti had to know what he was getting into. I know that everyone has issues and problems, and that love is blind, but shouldn’t it at least be safe? Therefore…

Perceived Indiscretion: Killing of a boxing legend.

Real Indiscretion: Marrying a crazy stripper.

Finally, we come to everyone’s favorite dog-walker, Michael Vick. It has just

Hey, where's my rape stand at?

recently been announced that the former Atlanta Falcons QB will be allowed to play this season (on week 6) if he can find a job. Of course, for anyone who has only been standing in a corner and drooling from the mouth for the last couple of years, this is after serving time in prison for running an illegal dog-fighting ring. Now, while I think Vick’s crime was despicable, indefensible, and just downright strange for a pro athlete to be involved in, I have no problem with Vick trying to get a job playing football if that’s what he wants. After all, he has paid his debt. Here’s the real problem: Why does anyone care about what Vick is doing? This guy absolutely stinks at his position. Yeah, he’s fast…big deal. While I can foresee this K-9 specialist actually getting a job somewhere because there are so many terrible quarterbacks in the NFL (Can anyone see this dude in a Titans uniform? I can.), this is essentially a non-story to me. Does anyone out there care what Dan Orlovsky is up to today? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Therefore…

Perceived Indiscretion: Running an illegal dog-fighting ring.

Real Indiscretion: Michael Vick playing anywhere but the California Penal League.

I think I’ve proved my point here.

           The more Sports Center and ESPNews I watch, the closer I get to having an aneurism.  Whatever happened to the good ol’ days when a breaking news story was actually news? The day is now filled with gimmicks and lopsided coverage for certain teams in certain sports.  Let me cite a few examples so you know what I mean…

Hey, man, who need defense? We'll still make Sports Center, baby!

• First, MLB coverage.  Have you ever noticed that ESPN will show large amounts of footage during highlights of only certain teams?  The Mets, the Dodgers, the Red Sox, the Yankees, and the Cubs…their games are getting at least 60 seconds worth of highlights.  If you didn’t know anything about baseball and turned on ESPN, you would with think the MLB consisted of 5-7 teams.  Now, this has nothing to do with my love for the Phillies, but the Mets get coverage for nothing.  SC devoted an entire NOT TOP 10 to them (which was hilarious), because they STINK.  So when the Mets are good, they get mega-coverage, and when they are bad…the same.  Teams like the Phillies (2009 World Champion) and the AL West leading Rangers get little to no love from SC.  Instead those teams get highlights that consist of showing one big play and then the anchors talking about the rest the game during that clip.  The Phightins had to beat the Reds 22-1 to get their own segment on SC.
• Second, their “reaches” for real stories.  ESPNews has almost no news.  It’s all garbage like “Chad Ocho Cinco plans to twitter this upcoming season.” Who cares? Until he starts producing on the field like he used to or the Bengals win more than 6 games, they – or him – are not news.  The Brett Favre saga is another one.  Now I love Brett, but as my good friend, and almost reader, Ron would say – last year Favre loved the attention during his annual retirement or non retirement saga, so ESPN gave it to him and it was completely unnecessary.  This year he’s done nothing but avoid the media and they are still talking about him every day.  Interviewing doctors and former teammates.  They even asked Tony Romo about him! What? Why interview Romo about Favre? Are they living together?  Is Romo his life-long friend? Because if that’s true, that’s a better story—how Favre and Romo kept that long-term relationship under wraps for so long.  I am just waiting for the day the bottom line reads, BREAKING NEWS: A friend of Favre’s relatives tells ESPN, “I saw him on the 4th,” in a hick voice, “and he threw one of ‘dem ‘dere sodas to his nephew and afterwards he didn’t look real tired, so uh, I think he ain’t done playin’ yet.”
  

  "Yeah. I woke up, had my coffee, and then, uh, came here. So...who's got questions?"

• Finally, where the media has failed me.  With all the resources and all the mindless junk they classify as stories, they managed to miss a big one.  LeBron “King” James recently ran a skills camp sponsored by NIKE called the “Nike-Run LeBron James Skills Acadamy” in Ohio.  Apparently during a pickup game, Xavier sophomore Jordan Crawford poster-ized The King with a two handed jam while cameras were rolling.  According to the story, James then approached the NIKE camp director, Lynn Merritt, and had a short conversation with her.  Shortly thereafter, NIKE confiscated all the footage from everyone there so no one else could bear WITNESS to LeBron getting shat on.  Now I’m not a LeBron hater, but that’s good stuff that I would like to see.  But ESPN, or any other media program, failed to capture any video of LeBron getting dunked on by some kid, even if they had to sneak it out.  Who still records with tapes anyway? I guess that isn’t interesting news footage, but thank God we all got to see Manny Ramirez’s pregame ritual for an Albuquerque Isotopes game, or Brett Favre’s plane landing in Wisconsin last off-season.

I can still play, I swear.

Along almost the same lines, reports are also coming in that the Flyers want to again try to go after left wing Brendan Shanahan. Believe it or not, contrary to my aforementioned comments, I don’t believe this is such a terrible idea. I’m usually not in favor of inserting 40-year-old men into the lineup, but I must state that despite stints with the Devils and Rangers (and I hate the Rangers), Shanny is one of my all-time favorite players, and I believe he has something left in the tank. His one-timer from the left side, especially on the power play is still tops. He’s tough and he’s a leader. Besides, the Flyers are now thin at forward and they need a cheap option. Putting Shanahan with the likes of Giroux and Powe almost seems like a perfect combination.

When talking with the Detroit media about his possible future in the NBA, Allen Iverson stated that he just wants to go somewhere where he can “enjoy going to practice everyday.” PRACTICE?! We’re talkin’ about practice, man. Now the guy actually wants to go to practice? Well, it’s nice to see that all individuals are capable of evolving. Coming soon, the second sign of the Apocalypse. What’s next? Is Rasheed Wallace going to put out a Christmas album?

Respect the ladies, gentlemen.

Y’know, with all the recent celebrity deaths going down, the one I was perhaps most affected by was the tragic shooting of former Titans QB Steve McNair over 4^th of July weekend. Sure, the details coming out are now starting to sound more sordid than sad, but it doesn’t change the fact that this guy was tough, fun to watch, and played the game the way it should be played without acting like a complete thug and letting off-the-field antics disrupt the team. He was also thrilling in one of the best Super Bowls ever. (Super Bowl XXXIV against the Rams, which they unfortunately lost, btw). That’s certainly to be commended in this current climate, and any world where Steve McNair is senselessly gunned down, and someone like the NHL’s Sean Avery is allowed to live sounds like a world I don’t want to be a part of.

Think about all the things you could get done in eleven seconds if millions of people were counting on you to do something special in those brief moments.

Now think about all the things you couldn’t do in eleven seconds, despite an uncanny ability to perform under pressure or an OCD induced script prepared to the letter.

Eleven seconds.

That’s the difference between the NBA and NCAA shot clocks, and somehow such a seemingly immaterial disparity has created a chasm between the two levels of basketball that many fans aren’t willing to negotiate.

After the 2001 NBA season, the last in which my hometown Philadelphia 76ers were relevant, I had to take stock of my sports watching portfolio. I found myself angry, nay, disappointed in myself for spending so much time and money on a sport whose urgency and immediacy were praised, on an industry that mirrors our very self-indulgent American culture, on athletes who did everything they could do make their fans unaware of other players on their own teams.

Thank Wooden for the NCAA.

After a particularly one-sided conversation with a fellow former high school hoops coach, I had convinced myself (he had long since checked out of the conversation by that point) that there is no redeeming quality about the NBA worthy of any more of my attention. Far from an erudite “sneakerhead,” I realized that my philosophy would meet with contention, but as far as I could tell, there was no reason to ever watch an NBA game again, especially when a more natural facsimile was just as available every night of the college season.

Determined to prove my point to an otherwise absent contingent of concerned hoops fans, I conducted my own version of the Philadelphia Experiment. I sat myself down, twitching and sweating the entire time, and forced myself to watch an entire quarter of a Sixers-Bucks game.  This twelve minute experiment would provide the empirical data I needed to prove to the world that I was, indeed, correct.

And I counted passes.

At the end of the first quarter, there was never more than three passes in a possession, a number that was consistently offset by the number of one-and-done possessions, the way one kid in your Pre-Calculus class would always ruin the curve with a snide remark and pimply-faced giggle.

To be fair, I didn’t even count leak outs, steals that led to 2 on 1s or 3 on 2s (but that was largely because it was so rare to see a turner-over hustle back to defend his blunder), or blown defensive assignments.

Still, the NBA provided me with a three-pass zenith.

And then I rested.

When I presented this evidence to the same colleague, he looked at me with both pity and sadness and said, “It’s because of the shot clock. There’s no time to run an offense.”

Without so much as an eyebrow arch, I quietly dusted myself off and returned to my classroom. He had me. And I never saw it coming.

Resolute in my own sense of self-worth, I regrouped and conducted the same experiment the very next night during a Syracuse-Pitt game on ESPN’s Big Monday.  Though I knew the average number of passes would be nominally higher because the shot clock was set a full eleven seconds more than in the NBA,  I couldn’t prepare myself for what I was about to see.

These two Big East juggernauts produced an average of six passes a possession (allowing for the same standard deviation as in the NBA model), and that number is even skewed by Syracuse’s penchant for jacking it up vs. Pitt’s insistence to run its halfcourt stuff.

To the untrained eye, that number isn’t staggering, but consider what has to happen for a team to even commit to passing the ball that many times per possession. Egos have to be checked, teams have to take impeccable care of the ball, defenses have to take away what the other team does well to force them into that kind of patience, and, the most important factor, teams know a good shot from a bad one and observe the difference with precision.

Most of us grow up watching the NBA in awe of the sheer athleticism, never even glancing at the neon 24 slowly ticking the life out of what a basketball possession is supposed to be. Thankfully, the braintrust of NCAA basketball had the wisdom to add those eleven seconds to satisfy the purists, to remind kids of the importance of a quality possession, to ensure that, for at least a couple years, our nation’s best basketball players appreciate the nuances of a game meant to be played by five as one instead of by one in spite of five.

And all it took was eleven seconds.