The Most Epic Baseball Event that Amounts to Essentially Nothing

Today is one of those days that, on the surface, seems like it would be on of those momentous days in the history of baseball. On a par with the Black Sox scandal, Jackie Robinson's first game, Pete Rose getting banished and other days woven into the fabric of America's oldest game.

But is today one of those days? What did we find out today that we either didn't already know or at least have a strong suspicion of? I know myself and people very close to this blog have heard the rumors from good sources that Clemens was on the juice. Hell, why else would he come back to the Astros so late two years ago? Quasi- Jordan Gambling NBA suspension that is why.

So what essentially did we get today? A list of 80 or so names given up, for the most part, by two not so reputable (at best) sources. Most of the guys on the list are inconsequential to the game, minor players sacrificed to fill out the report. The report seems to be pieced together and still has glaring holes. (For Christ sake Sen. Mitchell is on the Board of the Red Sox, if that's not a conflict I don't know what is)

Where's the info on McGuire and Sosa, hard evidence on Bonds, guys like Brady Anderson and David Ortiz. This feels like a drop in the bucket, a much larger bucket of steroid use.

I don't know, maybe this is the extent of steroid use in baseball. Maybe Sen. Mitchell got it right. Probably not. This doesn't make me feel any better about the last ten years. I don't feel like there is closure and I sure don't feel like this is going to change anything.

You know what, I'm not sure I care.

If I don't acknowledge it, then it didn't happen

That's what I keep telling everyone, "I don't know what you're talking about." I, for one, felt the series was just about over after the Tribe went up 3-1. Just got that gut feeling where we were fucked again. I've heard that a large number of Clevelanders were nervous about the Yankees series but said, "Bring on the Sox!" Are you kidding? You'd rather face Boston than New York? That there is reason #839 I don't plan on moving back to my hometown anytime soon.

Shoot. I think I acknowledged it.

Well hey, as Erm's head nodding affirmed, we may agree on this next point - Derek Anderson's success is the best thing to happen to the Browns QB situation that the team could have hoped for.

Let's say the Browns were 1-5 with Anderson throwing up a rating in the 50's-60's, fans would be begging for the beginning of the BQ era (aw shit, just realized BQ is the opposite of "QB". Coincidence? Yes.). Well, here the Browns are 3-3 with Anderson more than earning his keep. Silencing fans? Check. Letting the future HOFer learn his trade in a timely fashion? Check. Not being the most successful pro athlete with his name? Check.

There's so many scenarios at play that this falls right into my conspirical mind. Is conspirical even a word? If it's not, just pretend I'm high (a big presumption, I know) and play along.

With the injuries to so many QBs and the Browns possessing a guy who has enjoyed limited success as a starter plus a "Top 5 talent", could one be traded for something worthwhile? Hmmm... "Top 5" guy slips further than expected in the draft. Team trades next year's 1st round pick to obtain him. Said QB furthers previous rumors pertaining to personal life and lack of focus. Could he be the one traded? For a first round pick? Is last year's possible number one pick with a year of learning under his belt worth a top 5-10 pick in a trade?

A look at the upcoming Free Agent QB class shows nothing spectacular. With Rex Grossman being the best well known name, that ain't good. The other "notable" FA QBs are Ken Dorsey, Jim Sorgi, Jared Lorenzen and Cleo Lemon.

Looking back, that was misleading. Looks like there's really one one stupid conspiracy theory. Sure, there may be more, but by this point I'm much less interested that I was moments ago. Wine - it's not just for Cheddar Soup!

Responding to Erm's Entry

I want to take a few moments to respond to Erm's entry on Lebron James wearing his Yankees cap.

Erm and I agree 50% of the time on sporting issues. That number has increased over the last few years, as we disagreed on almost everything when we lived together. I agree with Erm 1000% on this Lebron James issue.

Tell me something, where along the way, did they pass this act through congress that you have to root for the teams in the city which you live? Or the city which you play for that matter? Its so incredibly stupid that people get so upset about something this small.

Some have gone as far as to say that it was a bit of foreshadowing for Cleveland fans who live by the OIC stigma, which is also laughable. I just dont get how people can be so negative. Who cares if Lebron likes the Cowboys, the Yankees or the Cleveland Force??

There are Cleveland fans in Michigan, there are Steelers fans all over Eastern Ohio, and some in Northeast Ohio. Likewise, there are Ohio State fans in Michigan and Browns fans in Western PA. There are no rules in place that say you have to root for a particular team.

Whats even funnier, is that when Lebron takes the court and takes over games in the next few months, these same fans will get back on that bandwagon, and hopefully ride it to the finals once again. Sometimes, people are too quick to judge those in the spotlight.

So Lebron is a Yankees fan, so what? It could be worse, a lot worse.

Check out my new blog entry with the six week surprises in the NFL at www.blogginwithbull.blogspot.com

No way

Oh no. LSU lost? Cal lost? Crap. No. Please, no. I'm begging, please, really, don't let it be. Awwww, crap! Really? This squad? But look at their schedule! So who cares if they're undefeated, talk about exploiting the schedule and it actually worked out as best it could. This is ridiculous. The Red Sox of college football are soon to be #1. I hate this system. Does this mean with Notre Dame's next win they'll be a top ten team? Blood pressure rising.

In time for Halloween

The King's New Clothes

Here's what I think about LeBron and his Yankee's cap. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. It doesn't affect me as a Cavs fan or as an Indians fan. I don't wish ill will on the other people who wore Yankees caps to the Jake so why would I wish it on LeBrick. Shit, its not like he was wearing a Steelers cap.

Now me not caring and there not being a problem with what LeBron did are two different things. With that said, I don't see anything wrong with what Bron did. Plenty of people who live in Cleveland root for other teams (like the Packers), I don't see why its different because LeBron happens to play for the Cavs.

Second the kid is not even from this city, he's from Akron. That's a solid forty minute drive south. If you drive forty minutes east I'm sure you'll find more than your fair share of Stillers fans. Akron is not Cleveland. If it were there'd be a lot more Zips fans. But alas Cleveland is filled with Buckeye fans who have never set foot in Columbus. And why do they choose the Buckeyes over the Zips? One because that's how they were raised and two because the Zips suck.

Now look at LeBron raised in Akron, with no father figure pushing him towards the Cavs, Indians and Browns. Who do kids tend to gravitate towards? Winners that's who. Who was a winner in the early to mid Nineties? Yankees, Bulls and Cowboys.

So not only do I not have a problem with what LeBron did I've got more respect for him. He's a real fan. (He's a douche for rooting for the Yankees, but a fan nonetheless). Everyone who follows the Cavs has known that LeBron is a Yankees fan and wears a Yankees lid all the time. If Bron would have showed up to Game One with a Tribe cap I would have said he's got no back bone. So I give him credit knowing full well that he's going to take heat for it. Now the worst thing that LeBron could do is show up at the ALCS in Tribe gear. That would be sackless.

Music, for a moment

Can you name the artists who claim to have sold more than 1 billion albums? Most people would soon guess the Beatles and be correct, but #2, Elvis Presley? Really? I know the guy was big for a time but again, really? Elvis has sold the 2nd most albums of all time? Who is buying them? You can go to any used cd shop and find a plethora of old Beatles cds & vinyl, but Elvis? Who's listening to him?

Go ahead and so "Ooh, I am!" But no, no you aren't. I guess I can recognize his influence and place in history, but I don't know a single fan of his. Lots of people perk up when they hear his name, but few entertain the idea of actively choosing to listen to his music. This figure, which is found floating around the web in many places, is stated in such a way that it almost looks like one person/site claimed it as fact and others followed suit. Seriously, a billion? 10 million records a year for 100 years? 25 million a year for 40 years? Bullshit, I'm sorry.

The Beatles, sure, I get that. It's still an incredible number, but not unthinkable. So, The Beatles are #1 and Elvis is "#2" (better than calling him "poop", I guess), having surpassed the one billion mark, well Wikipedia, who has sold more than 500 million? Michael Jackson and Frank Sinatra, you say? MJ, eh ok, but Sinatra? Obviously the Chairman has his fans. I'm not taking that, nor his talent, for granted. The thing is, if not for much of today's younger generations trying to make a statement - a stand for crooners when that's what they really were, not bubble gum and poppy metrosexuals - his numbers wouldn't be so inflated.

Alla Pugacheva, Nana Mouskouri, Cliff Richard and Tino Rosso - ever heard of them? Well they've sold 250+ million. Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Queen(!), Rod Stewart (?), Julio Iglesias, Elton John, ABBA and Bing Crosby have also accomplished the feat. 4 of my all time favorite artists are in this group, so I've got no qualms about liking "popular" artists, but to me, these are the classics; the guys/artists that molded music into the defining factor for generations to come.
Ok, one more grouping: more than 100 million records sold. Looks like at least 66 in this grouping. What's more surprising; the lack of acts like Simon & Garfunkel, Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, Metallica, Bob Marley or the presence of Celine Dion, Cher, the Scorpions and Mariah Carey?

Want to vomit? This should do it. Look at some of the names between 50-75 million albums sold. The Corrs? Enya? Shakira? She couldn't even speak English when she recorded her first album! ARGH!

Obviously (well it should be, at least), record sales don't translate to quality of music. I've seen plenty of bands who will never make it big that I personally find exponentionally more enjoyable and talented than most some broad who slides into leather pants and implores you to check our her hips, which allegedly will not mislead you.

All figures are acquired from Wikipedia and some may have even been backed up by other sources. Research, wooo!

No Hope for the Brownies

Forget what you've heard about Brady Quinn providing a spark for this offense. I'm not a Browns fan, so this doesnt bother me one bit. Anyone who knows me, or has talked to me about Brady Quinn knows how I feel about him.

Even if I'm wrong about him, how can he help this team forget that they paid a future first rounder for his services? This team has a lot of problems, and they arent getting any better.

Here are the facts. Unless Brady Quinn can add A LOT of weight and play on the defensive front to help these guys stop the run, he cant help this team. After three games, only the Bills have surrendered more rushing yards than the Browns.

The Browns have given up 529 rushing yards over three games, an average of just over 176 yards per game, and nearly five yards per carry. If you cant stop the run, you cannot win games. The Indianapolis Colts were the exception during the regular season last year, not the rule. They also had and still have a much better offense, but thats neither here nor there.

Next year, when April rolls around, what will Browns fans have to get excited about? Their pick in the top five or top ten?? Woops. Now, instead of drafting a defensive stud to help that AWFUL run defense, they'll have to wait until the second round to see what pops up.

Bottom line, if they dont find a way to stop teams from running the ball down their throats, they'll have no leg to stand on, no matter how early they may pick in the second round. Even if Brady Quinn does provide ANY kind of spark on offense, he still cant help that defensive front which has been on hits heels all year long.

If you are a Browns fan, do you still have any kind of hope that this will get better? If you do, then good luck, you are more faithful than me.

Check out my random thoughts at www.blogginwithbull.blogspot.com. Also check out my picks on www.hammondbacon.blogspot.com and see my interview with Zach Baker at www.vitaminz.blogspot.com. Thanks for reading.

who calls this football?

The entire world apparently. Not to make this into a soccer blog or anything, but the topic came up so here goes. Soccer is mildly intriguing to me, in the same way that car accidents are intriguing to passersby. I know abit about soccer, most of the rules, some of the players(the best player in the world is KaKa, for real that's his name) some of the teams, etc. I even watched an MLS game when Becks played for the Galaxy once. With all that said I don't like soccer. I gave it a shot and still found it mind numbingly boring. I'm not gonna say its not a sport, it is, but it is a boring sport. Maybe I just don't get the intricacies of the game. Maybe its because I wasn't brought up watching it. (Have you ever sat with an adult who is watching their first baseball game? Its probably excruciatingly boring for them.)

Here's what I find lacking with the sport. (Not that it matters, but what does). The action is sparse, most of the game is a back and forth that occurs in the middle third of the pitch (field for you Americans). Its not like hockey where there is constant pressure on the goalie (compare shots on goal in each sport). Unless the Brazilians are playing there is hardly ever constant attacks on the keeper.

Wait there's how many leagues? Excluding the MLS, which is kinda like women's football in comparison, there are maybe dozens of top flight professional soccer leagues. There's the English Premier League with recognizable clubs like Chelsea, Manchester United and Aston Villa (owned by Randy Lerner). There's the Spanish league with Barcelona and Real Madrid. There's the Italian leagues with Inter Milan and AC Milan. And I'm sure there's more leagues in Germany and some of the Baltic countries.

Here's where the problem lies, how do we know which team is best. We kinda do but we don't. Each league crowns its own champ but teams from different leagues do play each other. Now, I don't know what the difference is between the UEFA Cup and the Champions League is but the best teams from the major leagues do play each other and name a champ. I guess that kinda works.

Now if I wanted to know who was the best basketball team in the world was all I had to do was watch the Spurs dismantle the Cavs. There is, without question, no better basketball team in the world right now than the Spurs. Not in Canada, not in the U.S. and not in any of the Euro Leagues. All the best players play in one league I'm not sure you can say that about soccer.

Finally some of the rules are absurd. Well I guess some of the rules in every league are absurd.(fumble that goes out the endzone, belongs to the other team and counts as a touchback. What!?) What's the deal with the clock in a soccer match? Why doesn't it stop? We time sprinters to the hundredth of a second and we can't stop the clock in a soccer match. This in turns leads to "injury time". Imagine if a football game didn't end when the buzzer sounded but after the official added an amount of time that only he knew about. That's INSANE! Not only does this not make any sense, it sucks the drama out of the waning minutes of a game and its ripe for fixing. So Stop the clock!

I'm sure there's more. I tried to watch it, it didn't work I'm sorry. It still intrigues me just not enough to really care. Go USA women's world cup team!

Road trippin'

What's this?


Well, yea it's corn, but what's it doing here? Let's try again.
Ok, what's this?

You'd better know where that pic is.
How about:


Really, if you don't know that picture, you don't belong here (or anywhere for that matter). One more chance:

BAM!

I finally made it to the Field Of Dreams in Dyersville, Iowa! If you're a baseball/Field Of Dreams fan, then there's really no excuse for not making the trip out to see the movie site, which still exists in perfect condition, just as you remember it from the movie, except for the fact that in late September, the corn is a bit brown. Ok fine, there's one excuse for not going: it's Iowa. Really, has anyone here ever been to Iowa? If you think there's a lot of corn along Rt. 6 leading into BG, you ain't seen nothing yet. True story, Iowa's 2 biggest exports: corn and the smell of cow shit.

My plan for the trip was to drop my girl at the Minneapolis/St Paul airport at 5:30pm and start the drive down, camp, and finish the drive in the morn', following the Mississippi River most of the way. Well, after an amazing sunset drive along the river, I got to my expected campground around 9 or so. Well, seeing as it was a Sunday night and business is a bit, er, slow (or nonexistent, the lady laughed at me when I'd called to reserve a site) I was the only camper when I arrived. As I got out of my truck to grab a permit, one Ursus americanus walked right in front of my car... No pictures exist as I froze where I stood.

The common practice for dealing with black bears is to make yourself look large and make some noise to scare it off. Right. You draw as much attention to yourself as possible when there's a bear 50 feet away and not another human for miles, I'll be right behind you. By the time I finally exhaled and moved again, the bear probably figured I was dead and not a worthy opponent. Look, I've been fairly close to bears before, on the AT, but when there isn't another person for miles, it's pretty easy to lose your nerve around something 3-4 times your size with claws.

Moving on, the next day, I drove from La Crosse, Wisconsin to Prarie Du Chien, WI (not a chance you're pronouncing that correctly) and into Iowa. The drive down Wisconsin was a bit distracting; just to my right was the Mississippi, and man, it's HUGE! Seriously, even Rocky Colavito would've needed to string together 7-8 good throws to clear the river. I took some pics from the side of the river and also some from 500+ feet up. The magnitude of the Mississippi is ridiculous compared to the Cuyahoga, you know it's bigger, but until you're actually there, you have no idea.

After crossing into Iowa and driving past nothing but cornfields, horses and cows for hours, one passes New Vienna ("The eNVy of Iowa"), about 4 miles before the turnoff for the FOD site. After the turn, you're still 3 miles short and the goosebumps which overtook your arms hours ago are staking claim to your legs and making your chest sweat like George Costanzo eating Kung Pao.

Finally, there it is: besides the HOF, Wrigley & Fenway, quite possibly the most sacred site still accessible to baseball fans today: The Field of Dreams. There's nothing around for miles; no highway, very few people, but suddenly, the setting for the climactic scene of the movie:


There were people from Texas, Illinois and PA there, playing catch or just taking pictures. Thinking, "Well, it's the Field Of Dreams, how do you come here and not play catch?" I had my glove. As soon as I set foot on the grass I realized my error: you don't play catch with just any stranger here. This is a place fathers and sons visit, hell even close friends. But playing catch with some kid from Texas just because he also has cow skin sewed around his fingers? I don't think so. Again, sacred.

Eventually I left, but not before savoring every possible second I could from that place. Even though it's simply a baseball diamond in the middle of bumfuck Iowa and no bigger than most High School diamonds, there's a feeling that if you leave now, something big is going to happen as soon as you're gone and you'll miss it. The field calls out, begging, "Don't go. Sit a couple more moments; we built it, you came, share the beauty, share the joy. 'Live the magic, Have faith in simplicity, and Always dare to dream.'"

Perhaps the biggest shock of the entire day? At the field was a register for all the tourists to sign (registers are something with which I've become very familiar, after my time on the AT), and the pen waiting to be used by all? A Tri-C pen. That's right, a Cuyahoga Community College pen sitting at the the Field of Dreams in Dyersville, Iowa! I laughed aloud.

I really don't know how to end this post; since the movie came out in '89, I realized that a trip to the site was a requisite in my lifetime. Yet, on arrival, I realized I'd forgotten the most important factor, my father. It's like winning the lottery but then finding out that socialism has finally won out and money isn't worth anything anymore. I'm lost. Sorry.

What to do?

Your whole life, you've been brought up following baseball, football and basketball (some of you hockey as well), thinking that the 3 major sports are the only ones that really matter. Then, something happens... you start dating someone who participated in a sport not included amongst the 'real' ones.

Sure, golf, car racing, poker, if you told me that someone's participation in these events makes them an athlete, I'd laugh at you and dismiss pretty much everything else you'd tell me. Not only are these things boring, but they take no athleticism whatsoever. But then, someone has to bring up soccer. Fuck!

Look, I'm aware that soccer is the most popular sport in the world, but that doesn't mean squat to me - I like what I like. Sorry, but all those signs in my grade school classrooms must have left an impression; "What's popular isn't always right, what's right isn't always popular." Goddamn right, Garfield!

So fine, from birth into my mid-20's I find soccer boring, pointless and silly. Then, all of a sudden, I find myself involved with someone who played soccer at a higher level than anyone I know personally has played a sport. All this pointless running up and down a spacious field has obviously helped sculpt her into a fascinatingly athletic individual who doesn't know when to say "No" (or rather, "No, this is pointless"). But damn, it's soccer!

So my dilemma is this: I must, for the first time, admit soccer must be a sport, yet I still don't enjoy it. Does my predisposition towards a dislike of soccer lead to some disagreements about the level of athletes in certain sports? Of course, but that's just because she doesn't "understand baseball". Is it my fault that soccer players are useless with their hands?

Color me confused

*Sorry for the distraction, but going back to the post on March of '93, I forgot to include something that I hadn't realized. I doubt that at the time it even registered, following Thome catching the final out while straddling the 3rd base line (3rd base!) everything's blurry.

Well, the song that came on the Jacob's Field PA system? That song was "The Dance," by Garth Brooks. And "anybody on that team," said Maroon (John, PR Director), "knows what that means. That was Steve's song." Still, the question remains, as it does for my father, why did Steve Olin's wife never throw out a first pitch before an opening day or World Series game? I'm not claiming it'd erase the horrific loss of her love, but would there have been a dry eye in the house? I get goosebumps just thinking about it.

Onto the post...

When a coworker first told me the final score of the Browns game (I had to go to work at halftime), I figured, "Yea, well that's what you get for asking a girl to find the score online." It's amazing women can stand me. But seriously, 51 points? Impressive.

And for shame, the week before, numerous Browns fans were calling for Brady Quinn. I doubt those cheers were silenced in week 2, but hopefully they lessened. The kid isn't ready. While I fully admit that it will take me a while to buy into the legend that already is, don't try to sell me on the idea of this kid being ready for the L. As fans, we'd better hope that Anderson stays healthy and productive enough to keep his starting job at least 9-10 more weeks. The team (and it's not just Cleveland, but other franchises as well) has been guilty of rushing unprepared QBs onto the field. Let's take our time here, ok?

While you're sitting there chanting "Bra-dy, Bra-dy", are you really thinking what him playing entails? He's got to read defenses, deal with the speed of the league, handle the pressure of earning his money, handle the pressure of earning money and praise for his teammates, deal with expectations that have already crowned him a success and most of all win. Actually, those are just the short, pretty, cliche phrases. He'd better take the team places we've never seen them or he's screwed.

No one worth their weight in Ground Round free meals would expect week 2's performance to be the norm, but seriously, give the team time to grow and improve. Mistakes will happen, games will be lost, but in the long run, it may be worth it. Do you see this squad making the playoffs this year, even if Quinn were QB? You do? See? That's why I hate the kid... Let's see what we get in the first second round next year before we get too excited.

Update

First off,

I enjoyed Ryan's recent post about the 1993 tragedy. I agree with a lot of the things that Ryan mentioned about how this team has not experienced what the team in the 1990's did. However, I sure hope that the fans of Cleveland can truly appreciate what this team is doing in what was coined as the toughest division in baseball before the year began. If they avoide some kind of colossal collapse, they'll be headed to the post-season for the first time in a while.

It appears as though they'll get a tough draw in round one, playing the Red Sox, but with Carmona and Slobathia at the top of the rotation, they'll give the Red Sox all they can handle and that should be the most intriguing first round matchup. I really hope the fans enjoy that, because there isnt much else to get excited about. If you dont believe me, then watch the Browns tape from last Sunday against the Steelers, thats all you have to look forward to until the Cavs pick up again.

Check out my recent post on my other site www.blogginwithbull.blogspot.com.

--AB

Looking back on the Tribe

Remember March 23, 1993? You should, it may have been the most important date for the Indians' success in the '90s. It's the day the team came together and created a bond so strong, so significant, that the feeling was almost palpable. Unfortunately, such a bond couldn't be created through on field success or accomplishment, rather it was rooted in incredible tragedy.

The night before, March 22, newcomers Tim Crews and Bob Ojeda and fan favorite Steve Olin were out fishing on Crews' boat past dark on Lake Nellie in Florida. Responding to a signal to come in and join their friends and families, the boaters sped towards the parking area, never seeing an unlit dock lurking ahead. In an instant, lives were lost and 6 children were left without fathers.

Olin died on impact, as the boat slammed into, and raced under, the dock. Crews survived the initial crash, only to succumb to his injuries at the hospital, while Bobby Ojeda would be the only survivor. Fernando Montes, who should have been on the boat but went back to Crews' house to get something, was among the first to reach the boat.

The press conferences over the next couple days would be as painful as any sports related moment imaginable. Players and coaches openely wept and lamented the loss of their friends. Team VP Bob DiBiasio tried his best to execute his role in wake of the accident, exhausted and teary, he dutifully spoke when he could. Kevin Wickander, Olin's best friend was as devastated as anyone - his face red with anger and distraught, it was obvious he was deeply affected as he slumped in the arms of teammates, crying. Even Carlos Baerga couldn't contain himself. To me, it was a day when professional athletes seemed more human than ever before.

During the following season, the team kept lockers for Olin and Crews, even on the road, and hung their jerseys in the dugout. Wickander wore a shirt of Olin beneath his jersey and the team wore commemorative patches for the year. More than empty PR handlings, the displays were genuine and heartfelt, one needs only look at the faces of teammates and front office members in the days after the accident for proof.

So why the ties between this occasion and the team's later success? Nearly 20 players (including the major corps - Nagy, Lofton, Belle, Baerga, Thome, Ramirez and Alomar), plus much of the coaching staff & the trainer, Montes, from the '93 squad were still around when the team clinched the AL Central in 1995. These players had been through such a traumatic situation and were there for each other when life truly called for it, they knew who they could count on. Did Jason Grimsley hesitate to switch Belle's bats for him, when it looked like he'd been caught corking? The celebrations following the many comeback wins were incredibly joyous and lacked a pretentiousness now present among many teams.

When many fans complain that the current team just doesn't feel like the ones in the 90's, well, there may very well be reasons for it. Everything has changed; these players haven't had the experiences that the others did, the kinship forming through real life troubles, the support of each other, etc. But really, would they want to sacrifice what it would take to achieve this?

It's a new era in Cleveland Browns football!

Holy crap. That was a joke, right? Seriously, that performance wasn't scripted, the team is really that bad? Well shit, at least we've got a chance at the top pick next year. What?!?! Aw, shit!

Seriously, what can I say after yesterday's game? Hell, I didn't even head down to the Browns Backers bar when I saw the score at 17-0 at 1:30. The only positive to come out of it was that Brady Quinn didn't play. Imagine the kid who always buckles under the weight of expectations coming in during a blowout against his team's fiercest rival only to get absolutely destroyed. Think his confidence would still be sky high? Not a chance, that kid would go crying on the shoulder of Tim Couch.

I'll never back down from my argument that the Browns should have taken Roethlisberger over Kellen Winslow. Had they done so, they'd have solved the QB problem, thus leaving them to address other issues, grabbing, gee, I don't know, Vernand Morency, Marion Barber or Brandon Jacobs, all who went in the same round, after Frye (as did Kevin Everett - I happened to be watching that game as the hit happened, was one of those moments where you immediately knew the guy was in trouble).

I really don't have enough to say about yesterday's game, except to express my dismay at how this team prepares for an Opening Day, home game, against Pittsburgh. That's how well they want to perform against that damned team? Where's Cowher?

2007 NFL PREVIEW

Yes, I'm still alive. The WV Power are up 1-0 in the best of three series against the Hickory Crawdads. They have a chance to wrap up the series on Friday night at Appalachian Power Park. If they win, they'll get to the Championship round for the first time in 15 years.

Anyways, I've posted my 2007 NFL Preview on my other blog. www.blogginwithbull.blogspot.com. To avoid posting it twice, head to the other site and check it out for yourself. Its bound to piss you off and make you scratch your head SEVERAL TIMES.

Holla.

--AB

You Can't Spell Lloyd without Two A's??!??!??

Biggest upset of all time, or victim of hyperbole?

Look, Michigan lost, ok? Go ahead and call it the biggest upset of all time, just to save the time and effort thinking of bigger ones, but what's the big deal? Many detractors who claim that preseason polls (me) are the same ones who repeatedly point out that the #5 team in the country went down to a 1-AA school (not me). Well, yea, I guess that's true, but a bit misleading with the facts.

-Appalachian State is the two time defending D1-AA champion. Sure, it's not 1A, but looks like they've got a pretty good thing going there. By the way, former 1AA teams who've recently made the leap to 1A: Marshall and Boise St.
-This is a Michigan team that got destroyed by USC in the most recent Rose Bowl. Just absolutely pounded. Don't tell me that they were out to prove something this past weekend, baloney, they're more concerned with next week's Oregon , which brings me to my next point:
-Lloyd Carr. What am I going to add that hasn't been said already? Why does he still have a job? Way to get the team ready to play. At least there's a bye week after Oregon. Oh nevermind, it's Notre Dame. Same thing.
-Chad Henne does, has, and will suck. His passing yards and TDs have gone down every year while his INT/pass ratio has gotten worse. Ooh, another year under his belt, he'll be good, right? Wrong, the few highlights of the game continue to show the same thing - he can't throw the deep ball. Try leading your receivers a bit instead of forcing them to slow down and even stop.

Yea, the Wolverines lost, but it was a losable game. One of those where the teams weren't as uneven as they looked. Hey, at least Michigan accepted the challenge from a champion, instead of settling for their coach's former team, a pushover. I don't understand the anger so many non-Blue fans have for Michigan now, it's like all D1 fans are taking out their insecurities on 'em.
If the polls have meant anything, then how does one loss drop a team all the way from #5 out of the Top 25? Calling voters "asinine" (Dan Shanoff) for voting Michigan 16th? Doesn't make sense. This team will do what they always do, win 7-8 games and go to a bowl. They'll finish the season in the Top 25, what's wrong with figuring that they didn't play their best, but that they'll come back? College football polls often lack sense and purpose, there's really no need for them until week 6 or so.

And all this time, I thought it was Craig Yeast that made him look good

Covering the Tim Couch/steroid story in four easy steps:

Tim Couch took steroids.
These steroids tend to improve one's physical aptitude.
Tim Couch sucked.
Where would he have been without steroids?

The NFL Cares More About Dogs than People!

Here it is, the mandatory Mike Vick post. After all it is, according to Bob Ley, the biggest story in the News today (on a day the Attorney General resigned).

Let me take a different view on this thing and question the NFL as well as the public's priorities. First off I'm a dog owner and a dog lover. Second, lets get some things straight. Vick plead guilty to conspiracy to transport dogs over state lines for the purpose of dog fighting, not killing dogs or even dog fighting. All that needs to be shown to sustain a conspiracy charge is that two or more people commit some acts in furtherance of a crime.

As an illustration for there to be a conspiracy to rob a bank two people need only commit acts that might lead to robbing a bank. Lets say they buy guns and talk about plans to rob the bank and steal a car to use as the getaway car. Good enough for a conspiracy. They don't need to actually rob the bank.

Conspiracy charges are in general less difficult to prove than an actual crime.

So with that said lets not go calling Mike Vick a dog killer just yet. Even in the statement of facts Vick submitted with his plea agreement, at most Vick admits to being complicit in the deaths of 8-10 dogs in April of 2007. For arguments sake lets say that Vick had one or two of his boys, either Q or Peace, kill these dogs. Forget all that nonsense about electrocution and hanging, do you think a $130 million dollar Quarterback is getting his hands dirty like that, no he's having his boys do it.

Even the worst case (that Vick himself killed some dogs), should not elicit the response that it has from the NFL.

In the Goddell era, the NFL has quickly become Stalinist USSR in the way punishment is meted out. Take for example everyone's favorite wrestler, Pac-man Jones. Arrested a bunch of times, never once convicted of any charge. Suspended for the year. Its not that I think that Pac-man is a good guy (he's probably not) nor do I think he's blameless ( who makes it rain and asks for the money back?). Here's my beef, HE WAS NEVER CONVICTED. It is against the law to even ask on a job application if you have ever been arrested. And Pac-man got a year suspension.

What's Vick gonna get? A year, after his sentence is up. Its not that Vick doesn't deserve to be suspended, he does. But for a whole year. Take a look at two other examples where the NFL's punishment was less severe and the public outcry far less.

Leonard Little, former Rams' DE. Suspended eight games in 1999 after he plead guilty to involuntary manslaughter after he KILLED a woman while drunk driving. Six years later he picked up another DUI. He's still in the league.

NFL poster boy Ray Lewis plead guilty to obstruction of justice in a double homicide. That's right Ray's boys stabbed to people outside of a club in Atlanta before the Super Bowl. That's two dead people.

So lets do a quick count three dead people 8 game suspension, possible 10 dogs one year suspension maybe more.

I'm starting to question that school

Admittedly, I've made a bit of a jump onto the Florida Gator bandwagon over the last few years. I wasn't much of a fan growing up, but somehow they started providing teams that I found myelf rooting for. Here in 2007, the basketball and football teams provided me great glee, winning each of their respective sport's championships over The Ohio State University.

At the time of the deals, the numbers involved struck me as ridiculous, much too high for coaches. Seeing it again, it really is newsworthy:

Donovan was awarded a six-year, $21 million contract, averaging $3.5 million. At $3.25 million a year, Meyer's deal is $19.5 million for six years — a far cry from his $55,000 salary as receivers coach at Notre Dame seven years ago.

And heck, it's not just those two, the school's AD, Jeremy Foley...

...signed an 11-year deal in June, worth up to $1.2 million a year, making him the highest paid in the nation at his position.

Holy crap, 8+ mil a year for those 3! School president, Bernie Machen, what do you have to say for yourself?

"We're sort of riding a wave right now — we're just hoping it doesn't end," the president says. "Gator Nation is really happy right now.

Good for you guys, Go Gators! High times for everyone, right?

"Now, the faculty's not too happy. They think I'm paid too much. They think everybody's paid too much — except them. The sad thing is that in a year where we have record salaries for (Billy Donovan and Urban Meyer), we're having a faculty hiring freeze and there will be no raises because of the state budget. It just kind of comes at a bad time."

No kidding. The teacher's ain't happy? Who woulda thunk it? And did you imply that the teachers really are paid appropriately? Huh.

Then he went to the parking for calisthenics

ESPN.com has a story regarding Darrent Williams' mother visiting Broncos practice versus the Cowboys today. Williams, you may recall was killed by Roger Goodell unknown person(s) on New Years Day. This coming season would have been the guy's third in the NFL, yet he died in Javon Walker's arms after the limo they were in was shot up. Unbelievably tragic. Thankfully, Terrell Owens was there today to lend a helping hand and erase some of the pain:

'"It definitely puts life in perspective, your job in perspective, and it makes you realize what's most important for you," said Owens, who gave her a football. "Any time you lose a loved one, that's devastating."'

To which, Mrs. Williams replied, "What's this? Wow...A football... Yea, it's nice and all, but you realize my son was killed, right? ... No, no, I appreciate it, but what am I supposed to do with it? ... I know you're T.O., but seriously, my son's dead. What the fuck is this?"

It's about time for this

Barry Bonds can go to hell. Not just him (as he's worthy of his own post), but McGwire, Brady Anderson, Sammy Sosa, Palmeiro, Neifi Perez, etc., you too Jay Bell, heckuva year you had in '99! All you smug pricks! You know who else? Schilling, Clemens and everyone else whose misguided concern with their "legacy" has led them to altering not just their bodies but the sports landscape and social standards in general. So you didn't want to be role models? Then you wouldn't be where you are today without such status. Do you really mean that?

(Not going to hell: Ken Griffey Jr.)

As much as I'd love to sit here and point fingers, calling everyone "cheaters", I shouldn't do that. What most of these players were doing wasn't cheating, they were/are merely looking for any way to get an edge in their competitions. Boy, capitalism is wonderful. On a side note, the right to speak will forever be revoked from anyone claiming that these supplements don't improve one's abilities. If they didn't, then why would players use 'em?

Don't give me this "Oh it's 162 games, I'm tired" shit. 162 games? For what, an average of 3 hours a night? So 500 hours a year you're playing, sure, plus hundreds of hours of practice, I know, but are you going to sit there and tell me that you're running/exerting yourself for the entire time? Please, this is baseball we're talking about, you bat 4 times a game, chase down a couple balls in the outfield (hell, if you even play defense) and you're tired?

Want to know how long it takes most people to work 500 hours? 3 months. Somehow the rest of us poor saps make it through all right, whiners. Gee, maybe you shouldn't hit the damned bars every night, banging every ovulating dumpster in sight. It's your choice to do whatever you'd like in your free time, that's the beauty of life, but guess what? I get to judge you for it. Do your thing after the games, fine. Eat like crap, go ahead. But you're going to complain that you're tired? You know who else is tired? That guy. And her, the girl over there. Those people in the stands? They're tired too. We're all tired, ok?

Some athletes make unfathomable money due to their abilities (and intangibles) yet are still so insecure about their talent that they have to resort to shady supplements to increase their statistics (see: money making abilities). Way to lead youth sports down the road towards "prescription" drugs. I don't know the numbers, but who hasn't seen reports on how many high school kids are using steroids and the like? When we were in high school, we couldn't even get beer. Looking back, probably only one kid on our team used steroids which had such adverse effects on him that throwing the ball from 3rd base over to 1st became a godamned lesson in physics, trying to figure out where the thing was headed. His 'roid rage may have also prevented him from attending Ferris State on scholarship and instead attending woeful Wooster (pronounced "Worcester").

I don't know about you, but I feel better, mainly because I've stopped thinking about professional athletes for a bit. Hey, it ain't just baseball, we know every competition is full of people looking for any chance to succeed, the only difference is the integrity of the participants. Thankfully, the NFL & NBA are chock full of stand up role models that we don't have to worry about.

Quickies

Gotta do this one fast, but fret not, I'll waste more time later.

- The St. Paul Saints, an independent baseball team (in St. Paul, obviously) is having its twist on the current Mike Vick saga this coming Tuesday, A Rotta Love Night! As per the website:

"Take a bite outta Michael Vick!!! The first 1500 people attending this game receive a FREE MICHAEL VICK CHEW TOY!!!"
(http://arottalove.org/events.htm)

Should be fun.

- Big thanks to erm for the heads up about The Love Muscle being back. Nothing like heading back to the "city" where he's had his most success, expect him not to get off to a great start after the Annies get their hands on him again.

(Huh, apparently, they traded him again. Shit. Once upon a time, I tried to buy a game used Buffalo jersey of Branyan's. Lot of good that would have done me for one day. Like he couldn't play for the Tribe now? Lemme ask, how's Andy Marte turning out?)

To make up for the error in not realizing the Indians are short one big muscle, check out this link:
I'm so happy for him, he entirely deserves it

- What's this?




If you guessed my next ridiculous, inappropriate purchase, you're right! It's an inflatable Titanic slide! Tell you one thing, it's more exciting than an inflatable jumping castle/tree.

The Love Muscle is Back!?!!??

This stunning news from MLB.com: The Indians have signed Russell Branyan to a minor league contract and assigned him to Buffalo. Branyan was batting a robust .197 with 7 HR's. And to think the Indians did not bother to issue a press release. Start printing those playoff tickets.

He's not helping himself

Brady fucking Quinn. There, right there is the guy's nickname. Stop trying to come up with anything clever, it's over. Brady "Fucking" Quinn is how he'll forever be known. At least this man is earning his nickname.

Quinn, ND & Browns apologists, flash back 3+ months to the NFL draft. Saving Quinn the embarasment of falling out of the first round, the Browns sacrificed next year's round 1 pick to grab the guy that no one else wanted. Now this smug son of a bitch not only has the balls to charge 75 bucks and up for his goddamned autograph (look, prick, Monte Irvin didn't charge a cent and you want 75 dollars? Go to hell. What? Who's Monte Irvin? Sorry, forgot that ND doesn't care about black people.) but he's still not in Browns camp.

Seriously? You think you're good enough to start for an NFL team, yet you can't be bothered to show up for training camp? So what are you doing, practicing? Fuck no. I'm not even going to bother linking to the pictures of you partying - not just because I don't know but also you make me fucking sick. I hope someone introduces you to coke and E in the same night. Eat shit you prick.

Why am I supposed to root for you? Because you're a Cleveland Brown? No you aren't, you've refused to sign a contract getting you into camp. Oh, you want top 10 money? Why? You weren't drafted in the top 10, you went 22. Shit, I want top 10 money, but you want to bet I'd be on that godamned field just because one of the most loyal fanbases in the NFL believes I could play for them, at the most important positions? You're going to be booed beyond anything Tim Couch ever went through if you don't haul your gaping hole into Berea tomorrow.

Never thought I'd actually appreciate Tim Couch's time in town, but you're making me realize that at least he wanted to be there. The man relished his chance and wanted to succeed. What do you want? Recognition. Like Ted Washington said, "Remember, you ain't done nothing yet." He forgot to add that you'll never do anything. You're a piece of shit and you & I both know it. May you trade spots with Lee Smith's wife during a week while she's on her period.

Welcome Back!

All right, July is over, we can get back to blogging. Thanks for coming back after all this time. Unfortunately, this is going to take me a while to get through - two days ago I had surgery on my all important left hand. I'm unable to lift anything, put my hand below my heart, write (no shit!), grip a ball/bat or do anything else for which I'd need my left hand.

Thanks for all the well wishes and calls to make sure I was okay following the bridge collapse here in Minneapolis. I'm about 3 miles from the now infamous 35W bridge (by the way, 35W runs North/South. There's also a 35E, confusing? Yep!) yet haven't managed to make it down to the site last night or today. As far as I know, no one I know was on the bridge nor were friends & family of anyone I know. I've been over the bridge a handful of times, never thinking anything of it. Now? Well, how does one cross a bridge in this city without holding their breath, thinking "Shit, just get across, go, go, GO!"

Can you imagine having been one of the people on the bridge who survived? Maybe you're watching sections of the road in front of you start to drop suddenly, just falling from the horizon, realizing, "What the he--Wait, it's getting close---AAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" WHAM!!! What about those that never saw it coming? How did everyone not break their tailbones? Unbelievable.

What a week for the Twin Cities. Obviously, the collapse last night is the only truly significant event, but over the past couple days, the sports fans around here have had Kevin Garnett taken from them, seen Luis Castillo traded - leading to Johan Santana questioning the direction of the Twins & his future with them plus his teammates backing him up, not to mention that after the collapse, fans were subjected to 10 innings of Twins/Royals baseball. (That's one hell of a long sentence)

It's odd to be around for this, while others are glued to the tv, trying to learn if they know anyone involved with yesterday's tragic accident, my detachment from the possibility of knowing someone affected has given me plenty of time to feel for the citizens here. From Monday's breaking news that KG might be leaving, to last night's bridge collapse, the locals have been subjected to nothing but frustration. Here's hoping it turns around.

Is there anybody out there?

We set out at the beginning of July with a simple goal, a sociological experiment if you will; go the entire month without posting anything new to this here blog. Leave it up to me to go and shit on the whole thing, I just couldn't take it anymore! I can almost see again!

(What? We didn't plan this? Then where the hell did everyone go? Ah, beer run! Ah, yeaaaa, you want to partake, son?)

Remember the passing mention of those adventure races that my marathon training partner does? Didn't think so. Well, I "completed" my first one this past weekend. This one was to be an 8 hour race consisting of running, mountain biking & kayaking all while orienteering your way through a 30 some mile course. These courses aren't existing or permanent, which one can go visit & practice or anything, it feels like someone just walked into the woods in some arbitrary direction, throws a flag in the ground and says "Find this, punks." Hell, sometimes the flags are on islands in a river.

The night before the race (Friday), all the teams - either 2 or 4 person teams, ours was a 2 - met at one of the area's REI stores to finally learn the location of the event. As it turns out, we were to race at St. Croix (Steven? Steven?) State Park, a place I'd actually been! Attributing it to half hunger and half our "need" to carbo load, the girl and I went to the Olive Garden (Tour of Italy, bitches!) before heading home and finishing packing everything we'd need the next day. On this race, each competitor was to carry all of their gear (except the bike, kayak & paddles, obviously) the whole time - life jacket, bike helmet, H2o, food, tp and a list of mandatory gear. For those who have never carried a backpack besides the one they took to school, the weight and bulk of gear adds up quickly. Now imagine having to run with that on your back, bouncing around, getting snagged on trees and bushes. Yea, that's fun. Granted, it's not 30 or 40 pounds, but damn you gravity, you win again!

All right so Saturday morn, she and I got up early (4:30? 5?) and drove the nearly 2 hours to the race site on the MN/Wisco border. We get there, get all our gear together, insect repellent & sunscreen on, everything organized, OK! We're ready to go! One problem though, we can't go. Either of us. Seems that dinner doesn't want to be left behind on this race. Jesus H Christ, the one time I want to take the Browns to the Super Bowl and I can't do it. You've got to be kidding me. "What if I go over there?" Location mattered not; we were stuck with the bottomless salad and breadsticks.

As the 8:00 pre-race meeting crept closer, we realized our dilemma, try to force everything out at the privy or start the race and probably stop 5 minutes in to relieve ourselves in the woods. Wasn't hard for me to decide what to do. After 10 minutes of standing in line (and missing the meeting), I finally had my turn again and was quite successful. Hell, if she says she's fine, I'm taking her word for it, what can I do, reach in and pull it out? (Mark it zero, Dude)

With an 8:30 start time, we weren't able to look at our maps and order of disciplines until 8:27. Teams also received the sensor which would register us all at the checkpoints, along with the warning that if we lost it, we'd owe 35 bucks. Yea, lose the thing we need to check in the whole race? The most important thing beside the map? No worries, bud. We came to learn that the order would be running, kayaking, running, kayaking, mountain biking, running, mountain biking, finish. Look at that again, it never gets old. A total of 18 checkpoints, 5 transition areas and 1 team challenge stood in our way of the celebratory BBQ. "We can do this", "Hell yea", "This is gonna be fucking great." "We got this". Allow me for a second to assure you, the reader, that yes, we did in fact "have" that. Minus the butterflies in the stomach, we knew this was going to kick ass, and so were we.

Bam! 8:30, everyone takes off, all the teams racing towards the first checkpoint, about 100 degrees from magnetic North (remember, I'm carrying a compass). Run, run, run. Running through tall grass, running along 4 wheeler tracks, running through a marsh (HIGH KNEES!), stomp up the hill, stepping on every living plant along the way - wait, there it is! Checkpoint 1! Hell yea! I'm officially an adventure racer! I'd already plotted where we headed next (as had every other team) - about 1.5 miles, 45* from N.

This trot was easy, over a grassy trail, about 8 feet wide. It had its fair share of gopher holes, strewn branches and the like, but considering our expectations, this was nothing. Being in good shape, she and I ran alongside the fastest teams and left all others behind. After hitting CP #2, we were off towards a point a couple thousand feet away, just south of east. There didn't appear to be any easy access by trail so everyone chose the same option- bushwhacking! I think by this point, we were in 3rd or 4th place overall, right behind the leaders, and easily #1 in our class - 2 person, coed.

Really, there is nothing like bushwhacking. Plants, fallen trees, bugs, brush, nothing gets in the way of a focused person. If we can build thousand foot buildings, bridge 4 mile wide rivers and clone sheep, then no freakin' forest floor is going to stop us. I was right on the heels of my teammate, ducking, dodging and leaping with every "Branch!" or "Log!". Finally, after 10 minutes or more of slow moving, we can see the trail running perpendicular in front of us, all right, when we hit the trail, if we go ri-WHAP!!! "FUCK! You have to call those out!" Her right shoulder inadvertantly caught a small branch that snapped right back at my unsuspecting face.

Perhaps my reaction was a bit knee-jerk, but that branch/stick/twig hit me right in the friggin eye! Seriously, right in the fucking eye! Instantly I was blind on my right side. Not only could I not see anything, but it felt like Bo Jackson's bat handle was stuck under my eyelid. This was only 2 checkpoints and 30-45 minutes into our race, and I'm unable to voluntarily open my eye, plus when I pry it open, it was a haze heavier than getting out of a pool with too much chlorine. A couple of extremely helpful and conscientious teams stopped to try and help but we all realized that there was nothing they could do. If I could just make it to the first transition point, I'd be able to check with the medics and see if there's anything they could do.

To make matters worse, while we were stopped trying to flush out my eye, my excruciating knee/hamstring issue arose. You want pissed off? Not, "Dude, you didn't even hit me" ticked, but "IT'S KRAPF, YOU IDIOT!" pissed, that was me. Not only was I concerned because I was unable to run, but again, I couldn't see. My girl and I had decided that I'd be the navigator and now that plan was pretty much shot. The worst parts for me were not only the sinking feeling that I was letting her down, a solid & experienced competitor, but also, I don't think she found my situation was as bothersome as I did.

After some lengthy issues finding CPs 3 & 4, we headed towards the first transition point, a kayak launch. It was here that I learned from the pleasant medics that not only could they not do anything for my eye, but I was to expect that it'd get a lot more painful. Well, thanks fellas, glad you could come out to help. If I may say so myself, and I will, we kicked some serious ass kayaking. We passed a number of teams that had passed us during our hold ups and gained some serious ground again.

When we took our boats out of the water, we ran into yet another significant issue; we lost the god damned 35 dollar electronic device that registered which check points we'd visited? Christ! What's going on here? Oh, now the fucking waterproof map case broke and the maps are soaking wet?!?! gggggrrrrrRRRRRR AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! FUCK! Uh, needless to say, she and I weren't much for words at this point. To her credit, she helped minimize the finger pointing, given the circumstances, as did I, but crap, could anything else possibly go wrong? You already know the answer.

While Lorenzo Neal'ing my way through a thick creek bank, somehow the compass was ripped out of my hand, only to be lost forever. So you know, while orienteering, a compass is more than "required" gear. It's "don't bother if you don't have it" gear. How deep is that creek down there? Any chance I can drown myself in it? Luckily, she had carried one as well, which we proceeded to use, but imagine if she hadn't - that'd have been it for us. This was only CP 8.

Sorry to skip most of the rest here, but I need to sleep. After finding checkpoint 16, we decided that we would skip #17 and the team challenge so that we could head back for the BBQ and to chat with the other racers. Much of the latter half of our race was spent wavering between complete silence and me trying to apologize profusely for not being able to do better than I'd been able to. Our official finish time? 8:18:00. The winner in our class? 7:23:51. Crap. If I'd been able to either see OR run, we'd have won the thing, hands down. Now that's frustrating.

We finished and took some quick pics, though neither of us seemed to really be in the mood.




Oddly enough, word had passed throughout the race of my eye troubles and many people were coming up and congratulating me for finishing, which as touching as that was, did nothing to alleviate the guilt I felt for letting down my teammate (oh yea, she's my girlfriend, too).

When we finally headed home for the day, she decided that she'd be taking me to the ER for the eye. No one here knows this, but my eyes are the one part of my body you just don't mess with; doctors, polices, hookers, none of you! Now I was going to have all these people probing it like the Houston 500. At some point that night, a doctor put some dye in my eye and checked it with a blacklight which apparently showed the scratch to all observers on the other side of my eye (i.e., you). My girl got to see it with the doc and apparently it was a round-ish scrape of decent proportions, which overlapped onto the pupil, thus the vision issues.

Another thing ya'll don't know - I don't do pills. I don't do medicines. I don't do drugs. At least not this kind. Seriously, I've never been one for painkillers, but this was so intense that I jumped at the chance for Vicodin. Never again. Bastards put me to sleep like watching Titanic. The race went down on Saturday, it's now Thursday. This is the first day that I've been able to consistently hold my eye open. The main problem now seems to be that if I'm looking at an object, I see anywhere from zero to four images of that object. Could be going better. It'll improve, but this definitely answers the question - would I rather be deaf or blind?

It's All About Taking Chances...

Trust me, this past Tuesday changed me. I witnessed something which may require a running account of the goings on - it was that entertaining. You'll read about it sometime.

I'd initially started a blog post surrounding my first Twins game, but it's been rudely interrupted by the night's NBA proceedings. Sure, we're only at the point where Carolina just took Brendan Wright, but were there not food in front of me to this point, I'd be about 2 pages deep into this thing already. Even with this year's, allegedly, intriguing/interesting/exciting, draft, I just can't get excited. Not having draft picks picks is like a hand job from a fat chick; sure, something's happening, but you just want to be past it so you can get on with your night.

That being said, we just had the first WNBA player ever selected - Joakim Noah to the Bulls! That's gotta be the most flat chested shemale I've ever seen. I'm against domestic violence, can we please hunt down the person who punched him/her in the mouth and seek retribution?

I still don't understand why Oden & Durant were always the Top 2 players in this draft. I don't care that I've never seen Durant play; I just don't get what makes these guys such "sure things". I said it before, but it's like the outcome has already been determined for these guy's careers. Why even play the games?

Rachel "Hoover" Nichols. Ma'am, you're glowing. Whatever you've been doing down there in Charlotte, I'd have thought you'd get some bigger leads out of it. Must not be using the DSL you've got to maximum potential. Plus, don't think it's slipped my notice that you've spent a lot of time around Michael Jordan. Next time, clean up your lipstick before going on TV.

I'm not sure what to think about Jeff Green to the Celtics. On one hand, I hate the fanbase surrounding Boston sports teams even more than Buckeye fans and would have loved the Chinese guy going there, on the other hand, STOP COMPLAINING ALREADY! There is no satisfying Bostonians; their inferiority complex is unrivaled. The city may be the most historically relevant U.S. locale, but having been eclipsed by New York's money, they've got to bitch about everything. Back on point, whenever the Celtics blurb scrolls up the screen, it mentions something about a trade rumor of "Jeff Green to Seattle". Awesome. Though that's not exactly a trade, that's a giveaway. What's Boston getting in return? Ray Allen? Please, like you'd draft a talented player & ship him with another good young guy and the pride of Miami U. for a max contract? Oh. If you don't mind, I've got to make a call... Maybe Danny Ainge would part with Tony Allen & pieces of the parquet floor for these chicken tenders.

This is it for now, but just so you know, I'm in a bar in Minneapolis watching the draft. The laughs/applause when Milwaukee took Yi was almost bigger than the T'Wolves taking Corey Brewer.

I'm getting scared, Atlanta looks like they're trying to put together a competitive young team. I'm out.

Marketing slogans you won't soon see: Fosters beer

Progressing through the World Beer Tour at the local establishment, I've tasted some pretty good and awfully shitty beers. As I was in the mood for one final night of self deprivation, I subjected myself to some Parrot's Bay shit (think Smirnoff Ice for masochists), Guinness (oh Guinness is refined, classy & full of body? Wrong, it's like giving a rimjob to a elephant with IBS) and Fosters. I did reward myself with a Hazed & Infused, but that doesn't eliminate the taste of rotten labia from my lips.

Never before has one beer inspired so many remarks as this one can of Fosters. Seriously, unless you've ever sat at a bar drinking one of these oversized cans, you haven't tested the limits to which you'll push your endurance and integrity. If the following doesn't convince you that your life is incomplete without the experience that is Fosters, well sir, you are far from a beer snob; rather, you aren't wearing your Golden Straightjacket.

-Fosters; tastes like the zoo
-Fosters; tastes like Oklahoma
-Fosters; smells like penis
-Fosters; like you're 8 years old, giving hand jobs to the bus driver again
-Fosters; for those who like their beer with hay, not hops
-Fosters; never will a beer can make you feel sexually inadequate like ours
-Fosters; ain't no one being f'ed by this can
-Fosters; you're kidding, right?
-Fosters; twice the size for only a buck more

It's late, I can't remember the rest. Anyway, Fosters sucks.

Let your mind wander

If only because I'm in the mood to be a bit self indulgent after the truly shitty evening I've had, here comes a story which, if I could openly share all details, could be one for all time. Definitely not about sports.

All things end badly, or else they wouldn't end, or so I've heard. Well, not only have I sworn off most Irish women, but now it's time to add the Swedes as well. Intuition's a bitch - for the longest time I haven't been able to shake the feeling that I'm "sharing" my lady friend. That's not a pleasant experience, you can tell what's going on but it's a bit unfair to make allegations without proof.

Well after watching the monstrosity on ABC tonight, I got a call from her asking if I'd seen the game. Uh, yea, of course - on TV at the gym while I was running. Wait - this doesn't make sense, she doesn't have TV. Apparently she'd seen it with a friend of hers. Needless to say I was more than a bit disappointed. Allegedly (and I'm almost willing to give her this one) this is just a friend that she trains with, but what the hell? Seriously? So in a huff I went to her place to pickup my laptop that she'd been borrowing for a few days.

Not to bitch and bore you with all the details, but after expressing my disappointment and asking some questions it came to light that, once again, intuition is the strongest sense. When someone starts a sentence with, "I've been trying to decide if I should tell you something..." they usually don't follow with "I've hired a hitman. He's going to take out Barry Bonds." I didn't need the full history of her relationship with the guy. Nor did I really need to know that when he comes back in town she'd be exploring her feelings for him again. As I was already staggering, I asked if there was anything else I needed to know; kids I don't know about, diseases, debilitating illnesses, murders? No? Ok then. Wait, what? ANOTHER GUY??? You have got to be kidding me.

Surprisingly, following these revelations, I left. Now things get awesome. As I said, she'd been borrowing my computer for a few days as she can get a wireless signal but has no working computer of her own. You need to know that one of my biggest attractions to her is her, uh, openness and ability when we're alone. Well, here's a suggestion for you all to keep in mind for pretty much the rest of your lives - if you use someone else's computer for your own leisure, it may be a good idea to delete the sites you visit. She's shared some of her fantasies so seeing some of these web addresses wasn't a complete surprise, but jesus, how much porn can one woman look at in a day?

Hey, yea, also Tiava is categorized. Turns out she digs of the same things as I, but some of the other categories - yowza! Oh, yea and if you're into any of the anonymous real life hookup sites, you may want to delete those links as well.

So I'm single again.

Careful what you wish for

Back in the days when Chris Mills, Terrell Brandon, Bob Sura, Dan Majerle, Bobby Phils, Michael Cage & Tyrone Hill were pulling in big minutes for the Cavs, down towards the end of the bench sat Donny Marshall.

I was emotionally torn concerning Donny Marshall; on one hand, he sucked, although it looked like basketball talent ran in the family. I firmly believed that had the team gotten the other Marshall brother, we'd be rooting for a contender (instead of getting swept by the Knicks before not making the playoffs 7 straight years). Well, when I'm wrong, I'm really wrong.

This is nothing new, you guys have been hearing/discussing it all day, but why the hell was Larry Hughes on the floor to start the game? After seeing Tony Parker absolutely blow past him, Hughes should have been relegated to towel waving on the bench for the remainder of the series.

Piss off, Curt

Flashback to 1997: July 7th to be exact. I'm at Jacob's Field, lucky enough to be at one of the most entertaining MLB moments of the season: the festivities the day before the All Star Game, specifically the Homerun Derby. One of my father's friends hooked our family up with seats between the Tribe dugout & home plate, about 8 rows up from the field.

The day included a celebrity softball game which pitted Jonathan Silverman and LeAnn Rimes' squad against Zack Morris & co. Plus, we got to watch the All Star workouts. Ever show up 2 hours early for a baseball game and watch them teams stretch, play catch and take BP? Ever do it twice? Right, so what makes you think you'd want to pay to see it without them playing an actual game? These are the days when Jeff Blauser, Royce Clayton, Tony Womack, Bobby Jones, Brady Anderson, Joey Cora, Jeff Cirillo, Pat Hentgen (Toronto's Charles Nagy), Justin Thompson & Jose Rosado were making "All Star" appearances.

Anyway, Tribe fans, during the run in the '90's, what was it that everyone said the team needed to win it all? Pitching. Nagy would never be able to it on his own; Dennis Martinez & Orel Hershiser were successful, but long past their primes; Bartolo Colon came on too little, too late & Jaret Wright was busy plowing his way though Brush's cheerleaders. Dammit, if only there were one more guy. one more person wanting to take the ball on the biggest of stages and win a championship, if not always for the noblest of reasons. Enter the slobbish prick I'm watching most of the day's workout.

In 1996 & '97, Indians fans were teased with the constant rumors of bringing young stud Curt Schilling to town. This week's honorary punch in the face goes to John Hart for acquiring Ken Hill instead of the future Hall Of Famer. Really, the rumors of getting Curt Schilling were frequent and, at times, convincing. Imagine for a second, having a selfish, young Curt Schilling on the mid to late '90's Indians.

The 1997 All Star break may have been the climax of the trade rumors & even though I think at the time I realized it wouldn't come to fruition, I couldn't help myself from taking pictures of the arrogant bastard wearing number 38. Watching this SOB walk around the field like he owned the place (chest puffed out, looking down his nose at everyone), I realized that it might not be worth it. Do I really want to sacrifice the pride of my team for a guy who I can't stand but might help win it all?

This tub o' lard has proven himself to a self absorbed hired gun, worried more about his "legacy" than the larger reality of what he's really accomplishing. Am I jealous that he brought a WS title to another long suffering area? Yes and no: sure, I wanted to win, but not with him. After having another decade of this guy behind us, we get to look back and see what could have been. From the desperation of jumping from winner to winner, to the spokesman deals, to the bloody sock, to his manipulating blog and need to always be available for interviews & TV appearances, he has proven to care more about the name on the back of the jersey than the one on the front.

Would I want to Browns to win the Super Bowl if it meant taking Terrell Owens with him at his worst? Probably not and the same goes for the Tribe & Schilling. I can't stand the guy. Had Slider or Brady Anderson choked Schilling like an Asian with Lexington Steele I'd have been ok with that.

You know what, Curt Schilling? When I'm talking to my friends' kids about baseball before they were born, your name will probably come up. Want to know what I'm going to tell them, what your legacy is going to be? You were a prick. Yea, you won, but everyone hated you. I'm glad you never pitched for my team, even though we could have won with you. Piss off, Curt.

He's still no Cleo Lemon

Terrific, Trent Green just went to the Dolphins. Why? They've already got two washed up quarterbacks on their roster. Oh, they're trading Culpepper, huh? Yea, the guy who is so shitty that they made this trade to begin with, they think they have much leverage with any team? Jesus, if they get anything above a 4th round pick, I'll be impressed. So why trade for Green? Am I the only one who thinks Joey Heisman could still be a serviceable quarterback in the league?

To make a run in any sport these days, your franchise either has to hit rock bottom or be a consistent contender; if you're crap, you get high draft picks and can justify trading current studs for future stars - if you're a contender, players come to you. The 'fins are neither - they suck, but not enough for a top 5 pick and they still aren't a playoff contender, what's the sense in trading for someone to make you marginally better? 8-8 might actually be worse than 6-10; Why give fans false hope while losing out on a (slightly) higher pick?.

Trent Green is going to be 37 when the season opens and this guy is going to have a better arm than Culpepper? Doesn't Daunte have an incredible "air it out" type of arm? Shit, if only his team had a raw talent who can't run routes but has impressive speed... You get Trent Green on your team, you want receivers who will be where they're supposed to be when they're supposed to be there. Culpepper needs guys who can run under his passes; simply, true athletes. What direction is this team going?

Let's say this trade had gone down before the draft, would Miami have taken Ginn? Why get a piece then change the puzzle? Besides for my own pleasure, WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE BRADY QUINN?

I should have bought it

Yea, this post is going real well, it's only gotten f'd up twice already - the thing is cursed and you'll soon find out why.

But first, one of the best things about Minneapolis is the music scene. Not only does the area draw acts that I actually want to see (I'm on my way out the door to go to a show right now), but the numerous independent music stores give hope to all who heave at the thought of another Best Buy/Circuit City/Virgin Megastore, etc. My favorite being Cheapo - it's massive, cheap, carries both used & new cds and dvds, plus it's only two blocks from my place.

So I'm in there today looking for the Survivorman DVD when I turned the corner to see this cd staring back at me:


As tempting as it was, I couldn't throw down the $1.95 for it. Seriously, check out that guy's smile, he really loves his Savior. There's no way that's the guy's real hair.

One more day.

And the Tribe is in first place!

Yea I'll make it three straight Cavs posts this week, but how often to the Cavs win the Eastern Conference Title. I'm not going to talk about the game itself or what it means for the fans or the city. Lets talk about what it means for the two people who deserve a title more than anyone else associated with this franchise. Joe Tait and Austin Carr.

These two guys have been through all the shit (tons) and all the shine (not so much) associated with this franchise. Tait has been here since the beginning and Carr has been here almost as long. Joe Tait is the best play-by-play man in the business and Austin Carr may be the worst color man, but god damn does he love his Cavs.

So here's to the two guys that are probably the most invested in this team. Finally something to enjoy. So in the words of the immortal Jake Taylor: "Well i guess there's only one thing left to do. Win the whole Fucking thing."

Go Cavs

I actually got Joe Tait on the radio here last night

Unbelievable (un·be·liev·a·ble) adj.
1. Not to be believed; incredible
2. My most often word used last night

What the hell is going on here? Price, Harper, Nance, Daugherty, Hot Rod & Ehlo couldn't pull it off, but TheBron & Boobie might? No freakin' way. I'm not saying they can't, just "wow". Nothing about this makes sense. The Tribe can't win a World Series, the Browns can't win a Super Bowl, let alone get to one, but the Cavs might win an NBA title? Really, who saw that happening before the LBJ lottery?

First person to use any form of the word "cursed" and Cleveland will be asked to leave. Is a Cavs title just what the city needs to believe, "Yes, we can do this; no longer are we building our hopes up, just to expect to have them dashed right at the worst moment"? I was literally speechless last night after the game. I've got no TV in my place here in Minneapolis, so I had to go to a bar to catch the end of it. After the final buzzer, I'm looking around the place realizing that few others in the place even noticed the game was on. I exchanged some handshakes with the guy next to me and realized I had to get out of there - it just wasn't right. Here's a Cleveland team advancing to the championship and I had not a single person with whom I could share the moment.

I called a friend for directions to her place and it finally dawned on me that I was unable to speak. She kept asking if I was drunk, but after only one PBR, no, that wasn't it - my mind simply couldn't comprehend what had happened. Cleveland? The Cavs? NBA Finals? This LeBron James thing is actually progressing as expected; what the hell is going on here? When I finally got over to my friend's place, I just sat there on the couch, stunned. I literally couldn't put thoughts into words; you could have dumped a pitcher of water on me and I'd have just looked up at you with the biggest, stupid grin on my face. Every word that eventually did make it out was a whisper, for I was worried that I was on the brink of just exploding, "Don't you get it?! This isn't right! Cleveland might actually win something!! DOESN'T ANYONE UNDERSTAND???"

No, I don't live and die with the Cavs; for me, they'll never again be on the same level as the Indians or the Browns, but if my city is about to win something, you can bet your ass I'll be at home to celebrate it. If the Cavs look to be on the brink of actually winning it all, there's no way in hell I'll be watching the game alone in Minneapolis. Cleveland, hopefully I'll see you soon.

CLUTCH AND CLEVELAND, TOGETHER AT LAST

Never, have the words Clutch and Cleveland ever combined to equal anything even remotely close to positive. When you think of those two words in the same sentence, you think of John Elway, you think of Michael Jordan, you think of David Justice, you think of Willie Mays, and you think of Edgar Renterria.

What I witnessed on Thursday, May 31st, was hands down the greatest clutch performance in the history of sports in Cleveland. When you break it down, I don’t know how much of an accomplishment that is, because there haven’t been many to speak of. However, sports have been mainstream in Cleveland for well over a half century in some sports, and closer to a century in others.

I’ve never seen one man take over a game for a Cleveland team the way Lebron James did on May 31st. If you look at the stat line, you’ll see he came close to 50 points, but its not necessarily the stat line that impresses you.

Its the fact that he was doing to the opposition, what several other superstars have done to Cleveland in the past. For once, Cleveland gets the clutch performance. He hit big shot, after big shot, after big shot. He went toe to toe with the best team in the conference, the big bully on the block.

Not only did David take matters into his own hands and slay Goliath, he said “fuck it”, threw the rocks down, went to Goliath’s backyard and took down the bully with his bare fists. He took every punch with a grain of salt, and delivered a punch with twice as much impact in return.

Now I understand that its too soon to get excited because the same thing happened last year, and the Cavs lost the series. Growing up in Cleveland, I also understand that you’ve been exposed to the worst before, so why expect anything different?

Having said that, enjoy the moment from game five. Who knows if we’ll ever see a clutch performance for a Cleveland team like that ever again. The stage made it greater, it was on the road, against the big dogs of the conference, a team they haven’t been able to get past, and most of all, it was in the conference finals, a place the franchise has only been twice.

When you think of the Cleveland sports legends, Bernie Kosar, Albert Belle, Jose Mesa, Orel Hershiser, Jim Brown, Calavitto, Otto Grahm, and the list goes on…..did they ever dominate a game the way Lebron did in the post season on May 31st? Answer that honestly.

As far as I’m concerned, its not even close. None of the aforementioned names ever did what Lebron did on Thursday night, May 31st. As my good buddy Paulie said, we’ll be seeing that game on ESPN Classic for the next century, enjoy it.

Who to start at PG?

Larry Hughes has fallen victim to the dreaded plantar fascia tear. I thought this trend died out after Albert Pujols was out with it. Whatever. The question now becomes, who to start at the point?

The Cavs choices are Eric Snow, Daniel Gibson and Damon Jones. It doesn't make any sense to have the World's Greatest 3 Point Shooter bringing the ball up the court, so Jones is out. Eric Snow simply sucks. That leaves Daniel Gibson, an energetic rookie from Texas. Want to know the only reason you need to start Gibson? As ESPN.com put it, "LeBron James, who had 32 points, nine rebounds and nine assists in Game 3, trusts Gibson and is confident he can fill in adequately for Hughes."

There you have it.

For Whom I Root

We're all fans - but of what? Of Whom? Sure, some (or all, depending on who reads this) of us know who each other cheers for, but this is a continuing open forum and we get to share, without interruption, who we cheer for.

Today, a blast from the not so distant past, although it feels like a lifetime ago; Albert Belle.

An RBI machine, Homerun champ, 1st 50 HR/50 2B man in MLB history, 5 time All Star, 8 straight years of 30 HR & 100 RBI, TSN Player Of The Year and Lousiana Sports Hall Of Fame inductee, the man was a beast, truly the most intimidating player of the '90s and possibly all time. The only things missing - the 1995 MVP award, a World Series Title & entrance to the MLB HOF.

The justification for Belle finishing second in the MVP voting to Mo Vaughn was that had Belle not been part of the Tribe that year, they would have still won their division by 20 games (they finished 30 games a head of the 2nd place Royals). Also, different people claimed the award is for Most Valuable, not Most Outstanding Player. I'm getting very angry... If that's the case, then how the hell can the MVP award go to a last place player (Alex Rodriguez, Andre Dawson)? The insanity of not voting for Belle was a byproduct of his lack of relationship with the media. Not only does a player have to produce on the field, but he must also play nice with the reporters? There's no reason, there is no f'ing reason he should not have won that award!

Ok, I'm done with that for a minute. Belle appealed to me for many reasons. As revealed by all his accolades, the guy was a hell of a player. During his prime, you just expected him to do something big, the game was never over if Belle was coming to the plate in a close game. Before he hit (one of) his famous Grand Slam(s) off Lee Smith, Carlos Baerga, who had just drawn a walk to load the bases for #8, celebrated as if he knew what was about to happen. It was absolutely surreal, especially watching it in person - I don't think I've ever heard a baseball crowd explode in such excitement as that moment. He so often brought excitement to a sport that needed it more and more.

On the field, it was easy for fans to root for the guy, though his antics outside the white lines drove many fans away. The stories are legendary: running kids down in his SUV after they egged his house on Halloween; turning down the thermostat, then destroying it with his bat, thus earning the nickname "Mr Freeze"; putting Hannah Storm in her place; absolutely destroying Fernando Vina in the basepath; drilling a heckler in the chest with a ball; not to mention the corked bats.

Two of my favorite personal anecdotes about Albert: (1) The game when he nailed the guy who kept chanting "Joey"? I was there (his middle name being JoJuan, he went by Joey though when he tried to give up drinking, he went with Albert). I forget during which inning the incident occurred, but in all of his subsequent at-bats, the crowd mercilessly booed him. We couldn't figure out why and didn't learn the reason until the drive home after the game. How'd we miss it? Well, we were sitting in the right field bleachers and this was during the season when the centerfield wall at Municipal Stadium had that freakin' trapezoid on top of it. The thing was right in our line of vision, so we never saw it all go down. (2) Remember during the playoffs when the Red Sox tried to screw with Belle by having the umps check his bats for cork? In all his intensity, he shouted back at the visitor's dugout while pointing to his flexed bicep, indicating that he didn't need cork to beat the piss out of them. Well, my dad and I went to all of the home playoff games that year and, of course, pops made a sign. What was on the sign? Why, Belle's flexing bicep with the words, "This ain't cork!!!" inside the muscle (no it wasn't cork, but who wants to take a guess as to what may have been flowing through those veins? Plus there was actually a second sign as well, one simply stating, "Ozzie would pay to watch Omar play!").

Whew! Regardless, while many fans turned on Belle for his off field actions, I stuck with him, he was after all, my favorite player, I couldn't just turn my back on him. It wasn't until he signed with the rival White Sox that he done pissed me off. That lasted only a short while as he headed to Baltimore next and was forced to don the number 88 because some selfish prick wouldn't give up #8 to a man who actually deserved it.

Did you know about Albert: Favorite TV shows? Cheers & Married With Children; Favorite player when he was a kid? Eddie Murray; Favorite music artist? Public Enemy; He is an Eagle Scout, National Honors Society member, former VP of the Future Business Leaders of America, and he was on an episode of the television show Hangin' with Mr. Cooper.

So yea, I rooted for Albert Belle, I adored him until he went to Chicago, but I'm willing to forgive. Hell, any man that turns down a scholarship offer to Notre Dame can't be all bad, right?