Six members of the Detroit Tigers will be going to this year's All-Star game. Some of them are no-brainers while others leave a person to wonder.
Obviously, starting pitcher Max Scherzer, who is currently 13-0, should be at the head of the list. As should 3rd baseman Miguel Cabrera. After winning the triple crown last year, Cabrera is tearing it up again in 2013. Last time I looked, Cabrera was leading the American League in batting average by a wide margin, and wasn't far behind in the home run and RBI departments.
Justin Verlander is going. As a reigning Cy Young winner, JV was always going to attrract attention. And Verlander's been good this year. He's hardly his former unhittable self having posted a 9-5 record, but that's not too shabby.
Prince Fielder is having a good year so far, but whether it qualifies as All-Star caliber is certainly debatable.
Aging Torii Hunter will be on the roster as well. So far, Hunter has seemed to defy Father Time. He's hitting close to .300, still has good range in the outfield to "go and get em", and it certainly appears his throwing arm is as strong and accurate as ever. In years past, All-Star voting has basically been a popularity contest based on a player's former contributions to the game -- and/or his public image. Yet despite being an all-around nice guy, is Hunter truly amongst the top current 5-6 outfielders in the American League? I dare say a lot of people would take issue with that.
The puzzler would seem to be shortstop Jhonny Peralta. Yes, after a miserable 2012 showing, he's rebounded to have a very good year so far in 2013. At last look, he was hitting over .300, had seven homers, and 40 RBIs, while committing only 4 errors in the field over the first half of the season. That's pretty impressive for a shortstop.
So how come I still get this nagging feeling that Peralta being in the All-Star game doesn't feel right?
Yeah, ever lovable Detroit Tiger manager Jim Leyland will be running the dugout of the American League All-Stars, and the Marlboro Man can pretty much do whatever he wants with the players at his disposal. Might favoritism come into play? Nah. Not Jimbo. Perish the thought.
Still, it seems like there ought to be a better option than Peralta. Is it too late to drag Alan Trammell out of retirement? How about Luis Aparicio? Bet the fans would get behind a 79-year-old former household name patrolling the #6 spot on defense for a few innings. Don't think he'd steal many bases like he used to, though.
Ah well. It will probably boil down to Leyland changing a lot of pitchers and using his "bullpen" wisely.
Translation? Advantage National League.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Aaron Hernandez and the jersey thing
P. T. Barnum had it exactly right. There's a sucker born every minute. I'll go one step further and say it's scary how many people will believe anything they hear or read -- particularly when the source is someone in a position of authority. Like politicians, cops, corporate execs, and the otherwise usual gang of users, abusers, liars and deceivers that prey on the masses in various ways to enhance their own standing.
And now yet another example has come to light. After former New England Patriot tight end Aaron Hernandez was charged with a variety of crimes, the most serious being murder, the team quickly released him. Yes, yours truly pays attention to the news updates and, yes, the initial reports don't appear to bode well for Hernandez. It looks bad. But did he really commit these crimes? The honest answer is -- at this point we have no idea. Yes, there will always be the zealots that, in their ignorance, rush to judgment and want to start warming up the electric chair, prepping the gas chamber, or getting the needles ready before all the evidence, or lack thereof, has been presented in a court of law and a jury has duly deliberated. One would like to think the days of lynch mobs and vigilantes are a thing of the past -- and hopefully they are. But the mentality remains amongst some.
In an obvious PR move, the New England Patriots are currently hyping a program whereby anyone that had purchased a jersey with Aaron Hernandez's name and number on it could trade it in for any other jersey of their choice. In my world, this is called a feeble attempt at damage control. Somehow the brain trust of the Patriots must think putting a "recall" on Hernandez jerseys will distance them from any affiliation with their former tight end.
And you know what's amazing? Like lemmings, the people are standing in line to do just that. They can't wait to trade in their Hernandez jerseys for another one. Phineas Taylor Barnum is smiling somewhere. Yet another generation of suckers is alive and well.
Why do I say that? Because potentially a Hernandez jersey could soar in value. Particularly if he's convicted of the crimes he's been accused of. That would put him on the list of notoriety.
Sure, most people would be turned off at the thought of owning a pair of Hitler's cufflinks, a Stalin military uniform, or perhaps even a lock of Charles Manson's hair. But guess what? Whether you like it or not, there are those out there that would pay a small fortune for such items.
And for the New England Patriots and/or previous Hernandez fans that had previously purchased a Hernandez jersey -- what exactly do they get by trading it in? A Tom Brady jersey? There's a million of them already out there. They're not worth squat.
Hernandez may or may not be the monster he's accused of being.
But if I had one of his jerseys -- I'd hang on to it just in case.
Remember OJ? Think of him what you will, but how much do you think one of his original USC or Buffalo Bills jerseys would fetch on eBay right about now?
And now yet another example has come to light. After former New England Patriot tight end Aaron Hernandez was charged with a variety of crimes, the most serious being murder, the team quickly released him. Yes, yours truly pays attention to the news updates and, yes, the initial reports don't appear to bode well for Hernandez. It looks bad. But did he really commit these crimes? The honest answer is -- at this point we have no idea. Yes, there will always be the zealots that, in their ignorance, rush to judgment and want to start warming up the electric chair, prepping the gas chamber, or getting the needles ready before all the evidence, or lack thereof, has been presented in a court of law and a jury has duly deliberated. One would like to think the days of lynch mobs and vigilantes are a thing of the past -- and hopefully they are. But the mentality remains amongst some.
In an obvious PR move, the New England Patriots are currently hyping a program whereby anyone that had purchased a jersey with Aaron Hernandez's name and number on it could trade it in for any other jersey of their choice. In my world, this is called a feeble attempt at damage control. Somehow the brain trust of the Patriots must think putting a "recall" on Hernandez jerseys will distance them from any affiliation with their former tight end.
And you know what's amazing? Like lemmings, the people are standing in line to do just that. They can't wait to trade in their Hernandez jerseys for another one. Phineas Taylor Barnum is smiling somewhere. Yet another generation of suckers is alive and well.
Why do I say that? Because potentially a Hernandez jersey could soar in value. Particularly if he's convicted of the crimes he's been accused of. That would put him on the list of notoriety.
Sure, most people would be turned off at the thought of owning a pair of Hitler's cufflinks, a Stalin military uniform, or perhaps even a lock of Charles Manson's hair. But guess what? Whether you like it or not, there are those out there that would pay a small fortune for such items.
And for the New England Patriots and/or previous Hernandez fans that had previously purchased a Hernandez jersey -- what exactly do they get by trading it in? A Tom Brady jersey? There's a million of them already out there. They're not worth squat.
Hernandez may or may not be the monster he's accused of being.
But if I had one of his jerseys -- I'd hang on to it just in case.
Remember OJ? Think of him what you will, but how much do you think one of his original USC or Buffalo Bills jerseys would fetch on eBay right about now?
Wimbledon. What are the chances?
It's been a very strange Wimbledon tournament indeed. On the ladies' side, the two finalists weren't even amongst the top 10 seeds. French woman Marion Bartoli entered the tournament seeded #15. Her opponent will be German Sabine Lisicki, who checked in at #23. This wasn't supposed to happen. With all due respect to two highly skilled tennis players, and I dare say quite beautiful ladies, this might be akin to the Detroit Lions facing the Cleveland Browns in the Super Bowl. Some things just boggle the imagination. But it's real, and they both certainly earned it. Who will win that match is anybody's guess, but with both Germany and France being in such close proximity to where Wimbledon is being played in England, there's little doubt the fans of both finalists will be out in force at center court rooting on their countrywomen.
Even though the men's final will feature #1 against #2, many are likely surprised it played out that way. Though seeded a bit lower, such notables as Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer were dispatched early in the tournament. This leaves the gorilla in the room, Serbian Novak Djokovic, who finally outlasted Argentine Juan Martin del Potro in an epic semi-final, going up against Scotsman Andy Murray. There is absolutely NO doubt who the fan favorite will be.
Djokovic is the #1 player in the world, and he's earned it as well. From foot-speed to endurance, to thunderous serves, returns, volleys, and groundstrokes, to finesse, and to every shot in the book -- the man seems to have mastered all the facets of the game. Andy Murray will definitely have his hands full with this guy. He's just that good.
Thing is, when that match commences, 99% of the fans will be rooting for Murray. It's the ultimate "road trip" for Djokovic. If he can block that out and play like he did against del Potro, then he'll probably win. But that's no given. Even though the Serb has certainly shown he has the stamina and mental willpower to persevere when things get tough -- it might just be that almost 5 hour grueling semi-final match took a bit out of him. He may be a lot of things -- but he's human.
By most accounts, Djokovic is a good guy and a gentleman. Sure, he'll occasionally pump his fists or scream on the court after a climactic moment where he has prevailed, but everybody does that. And yes, he's been known to do some serious partying with the pretty girls in his homeland when he's in between big tournaments -- but so what? Given the chance -- what man in his position wouldn't do the same thing? There's a time to play -- and there's a time to play.
If Djokovic wins the Wimbledon title, it will be pretty much business as usual. The Brits haven't had a native champion since 1936, and one more year without won't be that big of a deal. Though disappointed, they'll quickly move on. Kind of like the above mentioned Lions and Browns fans. Every year they hope, only to see it wind up as another round of futility. Some things are just meant to be -- or not meant to be.
But if Murray somehow pulls off an "upset" over Djokovic at Wimbledon -- entirely possible -- then the recent turmoil in Egypt will pale by comparison. The "United Kingdom" would go into orbit with their celebrating -- and good for them.
I hope it happens.
Oops, this just in......
Mademoiselle Bartoli has defeated fraulein Lisicki 6-1, 6-4. The Fatherland takes one on the chin -- again.
Ach du lieber!!
Even though the men's final will feature #1 against #2, many are likely surprised it played out that way. Though seeded a bit lower, such notables as Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer were dispatched early in the tournament. This leaves the gorilla in the room, Serbian Novak Djokovic, who finally outlasted Argentine Juan Martin del Potro in an epic semi-final, going up against Scotsman Andy Murray. There is absolutely NO doubt who the fan favorite will be.
Djokovic is the #1 player in the world, and he's earned it as well. From foot-speed to endurance, to thunderous serves, returns, volleys, and groundstrokes, to finesse, and to every shot in the book -- the man seems to have mastered all the facets of the game. Andy Murray will definitely have his hands full with this guy. He's just that good.
Thing is, when that match commences, 99% of the fans will be rooting for Murray. It's the ultimate "road trip" for Djokovic. If he can block that out and play like he did against del Potro, then he'll probably win. But that's no given. Even though the Serb has certainly shown he has the stamina and mental willpower to persevere when things get tough -- it might just be that almost 5 hour grueling semi-final match took a bit out of him. He may be a lot of things -- but he's human.
By most accounts, Djokovic is a good guy and a gentleman. Sure, he'll occasionally pump his fists or scream on the court after a climactic moment where he has prevailed, but everybody does that. And yes, he's been known to do some serious partying with the pretty girls in his homeland when he's in between big tournaments -- but so what? Given the chance -- what man in his position wouldn't do the same thing? There's a time to play -- and there's a time to play.
If Djokovic wins the Wimbledon title, it will be pretty much business as usual. The Brits haven't had a native champion since 1936, and one more year without won't be that big of a deal. Though disappointed, they'll quickly move on. Kind of like the above mentioned Lions and Browns fans. Every year they hope, only to see it wind up as another round of futility. Some things are just meant to be -- or not meant to be.
But if Murray somehow pulls off an "upset" over Djokovic at Wimbledon -- entirely possible -- then the recent turmoil in Egypt will pale by comparison. The "United Kingdom" would go into orbit with their celebrating -- and good for them.
I hope it happens.
Oops, this just in......
Mademoiselle Bartoli has defeated fraulein Lisicki 6-1, 6-4. The Fatherland takes one on the chin -- again.
Ach du lieber!!
Friday, July 5, 2013
Suspensions and Dirty Harry
Detroit Titger pitcher Rick Porcello took the mound Friday night against the Cleveland Indians. This comes in the wake of Porcello being suspended by major league baseball for 6 games after the powers that be concluded he had intentionally "hit" an opposing batter a few days ago.
True, nobody but likely Porcello himself knows for sure whether he plunked that batter on purpose or a pitch "just got away from him". Yet in the baseball world an unwritten rule has long applied. You hit one of ours, and we're going to hit one of yours. Sometimes the payback will happen the very next inning, and other times it might fester for weeks or months. But it always seems to eventually come around. Baseball players have long memories and slights don't go unavenged. This is pretty much universally accepted, even though sometimes a player that had absolutely nothing to do with the original offense has to pay the price by absorbing the pain of a 95 MPH fastball thudding into his body somewhere. It's not fair to that player, but it's always been that way, and sometimes a guy just has to "take one for the team". It goes with the territory. It might fairly be said that trying to figure out who originally started one these family feuds is akin to solving the age-old chicken and the egg question.
Thing is, Porcello, like most other athletes in the world of the Big 4 American professional sports (MLB, NBA, NFL, NHL), has a right to an appeal once the original punishment has been handed down from on high. While such appeals are pending, players are allowed to keep playing. There's a couple different ways of looking at this.
First, the league offices are pretty much a kangaroo court to start with. They hand out punishment without even affording the "accused" the benefit of a trial, where all the evidence could be presented and arguments made both ways. Bang, you're hit, no pun intended. Then again, I think we can safely assume the league takes into account such things as thoroughly reviewing video tapes of the actual incident, as well as pondering any "priors" that may have led to it, before meting out "justice". Basically, they do the best they can with what info they have, and most times they get it right. But not always.
On the other hand, one is left to wonder about the appellate process itself when it comes to professional sports. Oftentimes, when the player/coach appeals his fine/suspension (to the same people that handed it down in the first place -- but that's a story for another day), it will be reduced. In Porcello's case, the 6 game suspension might well become a 3 day suspension. The evidence that led to the original sentence wouldn't have changed one bit. Tapes don't lie.
So why don't the sports execs deal with such matters like they're handled in the real world? An example..... If a citizen is accused of stealing a car or robbing a bank, and the evidence appears to be overwhelming against him/her, they can plead guilty and receive a certain sentence. Because it saves the prosecution the time and energy that would have been necessary to go through a trial, oftentimes a deal, or plea-bargain is reached, resulting in a more lenient punishment.
However, if that same defendant insists on going to trial and is still found guilty, it's almost a guarantee he/she will get slapped with a much harsher sentence. The stakes, and consequences go up. It really shouldn't make a difference, because after all, the crime hasn't changed -- only the punishment. But right or wrong, we all know that's how the system works.
So again, why shouldn't multi-millionaire professional athletes have to face the same dilemma? If they want to appeal -- go for it. But if they're still found guilty, the penalty should go UP -- not down.
It appears athletes have nothing to lose and everything to gain by appealing fines/suspensions handed down by the league office for whatever infractions they've been deemed guilty of.
To be sure, yours truly is no big fan of power-hungry executives looking to flex their muscles or overzealous prosecutors trying to pad their convinction rate. Lord know, we have way too many of them.
But every once in a while, methinks it would be rather refreshing if an athlete appealed his original punishment, only to be found still guilty, and the sentence went up. In a perfect world, we might hear the following:
"OK, Mr. Porcello. Upon further review, we still find you guilty of the crime. Your argument for lenience has been carefully considered, and rejected. In lieu of what this court considers a frivolous appeal which was totally without merit, your original sentence of a 6 game suspension has now been amended to 12 games. Further, as a condition of your probation, you are also sentenced to 200 hours of community service -- such labors to be alternately performed as a manservant to Judge Judy and Roseanne Barr. This court is adjourned."
Now do just one athlete like that -- and the rest of them would think twice about that whole appeal thing for something they were obviously guilty of in the first place.
High stakes indeed. It's like the immortal line once uttered by Dirty Harry -- "Do you feel lucky, punk?" Or perhaps "make my day".
Either way, it would get their attention.
True, nobody but likely Porcello himself knows for sure whether he plunked that batter on purpose or a pitch "just got away from him". Yet in the baseball world an unwritten rule has long applied. You hit one of ours, and we're going to hit one of yours. Sometimes the payback will happen the very next inning, and other times it might fester for weeks or months. But it always seems to eventually come around. Baseball players have long memories and slights don't go unavenged. This is pretty much universally accepted, even though sometimes a player that had absolutely nothing to do with the original offense has to pay the price by absorbing the pain of a 95 MPH fastball thudding into his body somewhere. It's not fair to that player, but it's always been that way, and sometimes a guy just has to "take one for the team". It goes with the territory. It might fairly be said that trying to figure out who originally started one these family feuds is akin to solving the age-old chicken and the egg question.
Thing is, Porcello, like most other athletes in the world of the Big 4 American professional sports (MLB, NBA, NFL, NHL), has a right to an appeal once the original punishment has been handed down from on high. While such appeals are pending, players are allowed to keep playing. There's a couple different ways of looking at this.
First, the league offices are pretty much a kangaroo court to start with. They hand out punishment without even affording the "accused" the benefit of a trial, where all the evidence could be presented and arguments made both ways. Bang, you're hit, no pun intended. Then again, I think we can safely assume the league takes into account such things as thoroughly reviewing video tapes of the actual incident, as well as pondering any "priors" that may have led to it, before meting out "justice". Basically, they do the best they can with what info they have, and most times they get it right. But not always.
On the other hand, one is left to wonder about the appellate process itself when it comes to professional sports. Oftentimes, when the player/coach appeals his fine/suspension (to the same people that handed it down in the first place -- but that's a story for another day), it will be reduced. In Porcello's case, the 6 game suspension might well become a 3 day suspension. The evidence that led to the original sentence wouldn't have changed one bit. Tapes don't lie.
So why don't the sports execs deal with such matters like they're handled in the real world? An example..... If a citizen is accused of stealing a car or robbing a bank, and the evidence appears to be overwhelming against him/her, they can plead guilty and receive a certain sentence. Because it saves the prosecution the time and energy that would have been necessary to go through a trial, oftentimes a deal, or plea-bargain is reached, resulting in a more lenient punishment.
However, if that same defendant insists on going to trial and is still found guilty, it's almost a guarantee he/she will get slapped with a much harsher sentence. The stakes, and consequences go up. It really shouldn't make a difference, because after all, the crime hasn't changed -- only the punishment. But right or wrong, we all know that's how the system works.
So again, why shouldn't multi-millionaire professional athletes have to face the same dilemma? If they want to appeal -- go for it. But if they're still found guilty, the penalty should go UP -- not down.
It appears athletes have nothing to lose and everything to gain by appealing fines/suspensions handed down by the league office for whatever infractions they've been deemed guilty of.
To be sure, yours truly is no big fan of power-hungry executives looking to flex their muscles or overzealous prosecutors trying to pad their convinction rate. Lord know, we have way too many of them.
But every once in a while, methinks it would be rather refreshing if an athlete appealed his original punishment, only to be found still guilty, and the sentence went up. In a perfect world, we might hear the following:
"OK, Mr. Porcello. Upon further review, we still find you guilty of the crime. Your argument for lenience has been carefully considered, and rejected. In lieu of what this court considers a frivolous appeal which was totally without merit, your original sentence of a 6 game suspension has now been amended to 12 games. Further, as a condition of your probation, you are also sentenced to 200 hours of community service -- such labors to be alternately performed as a manservant to Judge Judy and Roseanne Barr. This court is adjourned."
Now do just one athlete like that -- and the rest of them would think twice about that whole appeal thing for something they were obviously guilty of in the first place.
High stakes indeed. It's like the immortal line once uttered by Dirty Harry -- "Do you feel lucky, punk?" Or perhaps "make my day".
Either way, it would get their attention.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
The amazing Joey Chestnut
Likely to the surprise of few, once again Joey Chestnut won the annual 4th of July Nathan's Coney Island hot-dog eating contest. What may have raised some eyebrows (and perhaps some bile) amongst those in attendance or watching on TV, was Chestnut beating his own world record. This time out, he scarfed 69 hot dogs, and buns, in 10 minutes, to top his previous mark of 68.
Regardless of whether one approves of such a display of gluttony -- this is an incredible feat. That's about 35 feet worth of hot-dogs laid end-to-end, alongside their buns -- which is ingested by one human being in 10 short minutes. Watching Chestnut eat those dogs/buns remind yours truly of those shredding machines tree trimmers feed branches and foliage into, with the small chips coming out the other end. In Chestnut's case, thankfully we never get to witness what comes out of HIS other end a few hours later, but I dare say King Joey will be sitting on a "throne" somewhere for several flushes worth, and paying the extra bucks for super-soft Charmin probably isn't a bad idea either.
Anymore, it appears as if Chestnut doesn't even have any serious challengers. A guy named Matt Stonie came in second at a woefully short 51. This is not to suggest that a guy with a name like Stonie had any sort of cannabis in his system, but it would certainly appear his "munchies" just aren't up to world-class level yet.
It used to be one Takeru Kobayashi was in the same position as Chestnut. For years, the Japanese native ruled the hot-dog eating contest. Finally, after years of trying, rigorous training, overcoming all odds, a true American heroic success story came to be. It kind of gets you right (urp) there -- ya know?
But not so fast. Kobayashi hasn't competed in recent years. Why? Because of a contract dispute. Kobayashi couldn't come to terms with the American Eating League.
Stop right there.
This is a pro sports league? They have to sign contracts? Are there agents and general managers in play haggling out the details before a player can slide the first dog down his throat? Good grief. What's next? A union? Salary caps? Trades? Free agency? Strikes and/or lockouts? Please.
Nevertheless, Chestnut's rise to greatness is a heart-rending story. In typical American fashion, he came out of nowhere. Just a young California kid with a dream who started at the bottom, worked hard every step of the way, and never lost sight of his goal.
Him being carted into the Nathan's contest like an Egyptian pharaoh was the result of years of keeping his nose to the grindstone, pulling himself up by his bootstraps, and never saying die when things got tough.
Indeed, King Chestnut worked his way up the ladder the old-fashioned way. He earned it.
Consider: Before Chestnut reached his current super-star status, he put in a lot of years in the minor leagues honing his skills. During his arduous trek he's had stints in the...
Waffle league
Hamburger league
Matzoh ball league
Pizza league
Shrimp wonton league
Bratwurst league
Corn beef sandwich league
And even a few leagues that are unfamiliar to yours truly. Like the chicken satay, gyoza, and poutine league. Few gave him a chance even at these early stops in his career.
But his brilliance always shined and he kept moving up. There was the Wing Bowl where Joey ate 182 chicken wings in a half hour. 10 pounds of mac and cheese in 7 minutes. Six pounds of deep fried asparagus. And just for kicks on an otherwise off day -- a 5 pound burrito in 3 minutes. A truly dedicated athlete does whatever it takes to stay in shape.
No, it wasn't easy for Chestnut along the way. In his formative days there were times when he was beaten by one Sonya Thomas in various competitions. Ms. Thomas won the ladies' title at Nathan's by consuming 36 dogs. Thing is, she only weighs about 100 pounds. Her eating 36 dogs and buns might be compared to eating one of her legs and her flannel pajamas in 10 minutes. It's amazing what these highly trained athletes can do. Yet years ago, when Joey was still a pup, waiflike Sonya had already earned her nickname. The Black Widow. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the female species of that spider known for killing and eating her mate after she has become impregnated?
Not sure about Joey Chestnut's marital/girlfriend status, but he might want to reconsider if he has any romantic ideas about the lovely Sonya. After the fun is over -- look out!!!! If nothing else, this girl has already proven she can do some serious eating too.
Idle thought: Wouldn't you love to be in the room if a couple like Chestnut and Thomas strolled incognito into an all-you-can-eat for $10 coney joint when they were both in "game shape"? Between them, they ate well over 100 at Nathan's in 10 minutes. After 50-60 dogs had disappeared at your average local coney joint and they were asking for 10 more apiece -- can you imagine the look on the cook/owner's face? Priceless.
But I wouldn't recommend asking them over for a cookout. Bad idea.
Regardless of whether one approves of such a display of gluttony -- this is an incredible feat. That's about 35 feet worth of hot-dogs laid end-to-end, alongside their buns -- which is ingested by one human being in 10 short minutes. Watching Chestnut eat those dogs/buns remind yours truly of those shredding machines tree trimmers feed branches and foliage into, with the small chips coming out the other end. In Chestnut's case, thankfully we never get to witness what comes out of HIS other end a few hours later, but I dare say King Joey will be sitting on a "throne" somewhere for several flushes worth, and paying the extra bucks for super-soft Charmin probably isn't a bad idea either.
Anymore, it appears as if Chestnut doesn't even have any serious challengers. A guy named Matt Stonie came in second at a woefully short 51. This is not to suggest that a guy with a name like Stonie had any sort of cannabis in his system, but it would certainly appear his "munchies" just aren't up to world-class level yet.
It used to be one Takeru Kobayashi was in the same position as Chestnut. For years, the Japanese native ruled the hot-dog eating contest. Finally, after years of trying, rigorous training, overcoming all odds, a true American heroic success story came to be. It kind of gets you right (urp) there -- ya know?
But not so fast. Kobayashi hasn't competed in recent years. Why? Because of a contract dispute. Kobayashi couldn't come to terms with the American Eating League.
Stop right there.
This is a pro sports league? They have to sign contracts? Are there agents and general managers in play haggling out the details before a player can slide the first dog down his throat? Good grief. What's next? A union? Salary caps? Trades? Free agency? Strikes and/or lockouts? Please.
Nevertheless, Chestnut's rise to greatness is a heart-rending story. In typical American fashion, he came out of nowhere. Just a young California kid with a dream who started at the bottom, worked hard every step of the way, and never lost sight of his goal.
Him being carted into the Nathan's contest like an Egyptian pharaoh was the result of years of keeping his nose to the grindstone, pulling himself up by his bootstraps, and never saying die when things got tough.
Indeed, King Chestnut worked his way up the ladder the old-fashioned way. He earned it.
Consider: Before Chestnut reached his current super-star status, he put in a lot of years in the minor leagues honing his skills. During his arduous trek he's had stints in the...
Waffle league
Hamburger league
Matzoh ball league
Pizza league
Shrimp wonton league
Bratwurst league
Corn beef sandwich league
And even a few leagues that are unfamiliar to yours truly. Like the chicken satay, gyoza, and poutine league. Few gave him a chance even at these early stops in his career.
But his brilliance always shined and he kept moving up. There was the Wing Bowl where Joey ate 182 chicken wings in a half hour. 10 pounds of mac and cheese in 7 minutes. Six pounds of deep fried asparagus. And just for kicks on an otherwise off day -- a 5 pound burrito in 3 minutes. A truly dedicated athlete does whatever it takes to stay in shape.
No, it wasn't easy for Chestnut along the way. In his formative days there were times when he was beaten by one Sonya Thomas in various competitions. Ms. Thomas won the ladies' title at Nathan's by consuming 36 dogs. Thing is, she only weighs about 100 pounds. Her eating 36 dogs and buns might be compared to eating one of her legs and her flannel pajamas in 10 minutes. It's amazing what these highly trained athletes can do. Yet years ago, when Joey was still a pup, waiflike Sonya had already earned her nickname. The Black Widow. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the female species of that spider known for killing and eating her mate after she has become impregnated?
Not sure about Joey Chestnut's marital/girlfriend status, but he might want to reconsider if he has any romantic ideas about the lovely Sonya. After the fun is over -- look out!!!! If nothing else, this girl has already proven she can do some serious eating too.
Idle thought: Wouldn't you love to be in the room if a couple like Chestnut and Thomas strolled incognito into an all-you-can-eat for $10 coney joint when they were both in "game shape"? Between them, they ate well over 100 at Nathan's in 10 minutes. After 50-60 dogs had disappeared at your average local coney joint and they were asking for 10 more apiece -- can you imagine the look on the cook/owner's face? Priceless.
But I wouldn't recommend asking them over for a cookout. Bad idea.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Random rants
This weekend, some lady is going to win her first major tennis title at Wimbledon. How do I know this? Because of those still left in the tournament, none has ever won a major before. Somebody's gotta do it.
According to Sports Illustrated, one Lonnie Whitener and his 13-year-old son Zach made back-to-back holes-in-one on the par 3 sixth hole at Riverpointe Golf Course, in Richmond Texas. On father's day, no less. How cool is THAT?
Will they please stop with all the hoopla over whether Dwight Howard resigns with the Lakers? The Lakers have even gone so far as to put up billboards around town begging him to stay? Good grief. Gimme a break. Here's the reality. Though a magnificent physical speciman, Howard was more trouble than he was worth in Orlando, and continued to underachieve after he'd whined his way into a trade to LA. And you know what? It doesn't matter anyway. Even if the Lakers are dumb enough to offer him some ridiculous contract -- that team isn't winning anything any year soon. Kobe Bryant can flap his gums all he wants, but that doesn't change the fact there's several teams in the western conference of the NBA that are currently vastly superior to the glitter boys, and most of them are younger and will only get better. For that matter, the Lakers aren't even the best team in their own building. The LA Clippers have already proven that, and will likely keep driving the point home yet again in the next few years. Though he is no doubt loving all the hype, and will likely make in the neighborhood of $20 million a year when all is said and done -- Dwight Howard can resign with the Lakers or go play for the Afghanistan national team. He's not going to get anywhere near sniffing a title either way. So what's the big deal?
Some pitcher named Homer Bailey, of the Cincinnati Reds, just threw a no-hitter. Ever hear of him before? Not me. Thing is, this is his second no-hitter. It seems like there's a lot more no-hitters being pitched in recent years than there were in the past. One would think that in this age of (allegedly) juiced baseballs, custom made bats, and the pitcher's mound be lower than it used to -- it would be just the opposite. In the old days, a no-hitter was a rare feat, usually only accomplished by the best of pitchers, with a little luck thrown in along the way. Nowadays, otherwise obscure pitchers not only pull it off, but in Bailey's case -- twice. Weird.
A major league umpire was quietly canned a while back for failing a drug test? According to reports, MLB ump Brian Runge got the heave-ho for testing positive for a banned substance. Just about the time we're finally getting over the whole steroids fiasco and everything is getting back to normal -- we find out umps are juicing? Say it ain't so. Then again, that might explain some of the combative behavior they're exhibited over the years.
Hmm. Consider --- out of all the officials in all the different sports, who are the ones most likely to have a hair-trigger that will set them off? That would be major league baseball umps. Those guys go up like a bottle rocket if a player LOOKS at them the wrong way.
Personally, I don't know what drugs, if any, they've collectively been taking. But one thing I know for sure is that they don't need any more testosterone. If they're going to "use", there's a better way.
Make marijuana mandatory. If they were forced to smoke some dope before the games, they'd be way more laid back. True, they'd probably still blow a call here and there, but in recent years it also seems like they've not only got more calls wrong, but even after seeing a replay that shows the obvious, have stuck to their guns. This is an obvious sign of not only "big heads", but WAY too much other stuff coursing through their systems. I don't partake myself, but I'm thinking a little weed cuisine would be a good thing for baseball umps at their pre-game meal. And while we're at it -- make the managers of the teams join in too. Some of those guys are 60-some years old, but when they come out on the field to protest a call -- they act like spoiled, bratty 7-year-olds that have gone berserk on steroids themselves. You've seen their antics over the years.
For now, my 4-legged yorkie kids need some attention. One of them is a yappie boy. Bark, bark, bark. Is it possible for a little doggie to get juiced on Milk Bones? I dunno. It ain't easy being a dad sometimes.
According to Sports Illustrated, one Lonnie Whitener and his 13-year-old son Zach made back-to-back holes-in-one on the par 3 sixth hole at Riverpointe Golf Course, in Richmond Texas. On father's day, no less. How cool is THAT?
Will they please stop with all the hoopla over whether Dwight Howard resigns with the Lakers? The Lakers have even gone so far as to put up billboards around town begging him to stay? Good grief. Gimme a break. Here's the reality. Though a magnificent physical speciman, Howard was more trouble than he was worth in Orlando, and continued to underachieve after he'd whined his way into a trade to LA. And you know what? It doesn't matter anyway. Even if the Lakers are dumb enough to offer him some ridiculous contract -- that team isn't winning anything any year soon. Kobe Bryant can flap his gums all he wants, but that doesn't change the fact there's several teams in the western conference of the NBA that are currently vastly superior to the glitter boys, and most of them are younger and will only get better. For that matter, the Lakers aren't even the best team in their own building. The LA Clippers have already proven that, and will likely keep driving the point home yet again in the next few years. Though he is no doubt loving all the hype, and will likely make in the neighborhood of $20 million a year when all is said and done -- Dwight Howard can resign with the Lakers or go play for the Afghanistan national team. He's not going to get anywhere near sniffing a title either way. So what's the big deal?
Some pitcher named Homer Bailey, of the Cincinnati Reds, just threw a no-hitter. Ever hear of him before? Not me. Thing is, this is his second no-hitter. It seems like there's a lot more no-hitters being pitched in recent years than there were in the past. One would think that in this age of (allegedly) juiced baseballs, custom made bats, and the pitcher's mound be lower than it used to -- it would be just the opposite. In the old days, a no-hitter was a rare feat, usually only accomplished by the best of pitchers, with a little luck thrown in along the way. Nowadays, otherwise obscure pitchers not only pull it off, but in Bailey's case -- twice. Weird.
A major league umpire was quietly canned a while back for failing a drug test? According to reports, MLB ump Brian Runge got the heave-ho for testing positive for a banned substance. Just about the time we're finally getting over the whole steroids fiasco and everything is getting back to normal -- we find out umps are juicing? Say it ain't so. Then again, that might explain some of the combative behavior they're exhibited over the years.
Hmm. Consider --- out of all the officials in all the different sports, who are the ones most likely to have a hair-trigger that will set them off? That would be major league baseball umps. Those guys go up like a bottle rocket if a player LOOKS at them the wrong way.
Personally, I don't know what drugs, if any, they've collectively been taking. But one thing I know for sure is that they don't need any more testosterone. If they're going to "use", there's a better way.
Make marijuana mandatory. If they were forced to smoke some dope before the games, they'd be way more laid back. True, they'd probably still blow a call here and there, but in recent years it also seems like they've not only got more calls wrong, but even after seeing a replay that shows the obvious, have stuck to their guns. This is an obvious sign of not only "big heads", but WAY too much other stuff coursing through their systems. I don't partake myself, but I'm thinking a little weed cuisine would be a good thing for baseball umps at their pre-game meal. And while we're at it -- make the managers of the teams join in too. Some of those guys are 60-some years old, but when they come out on the field to protest a call -- they act like spoiled, bratty 7-year-olds that have gone berserk on steroids themselves. You've seen their antics over the years.
For now, my 4-legged yorkie kids need some attention. One of them is a yappie boy. Bark, bark, bark. Is it possible for a little doggie to get juiced on Milk Bones? I dunno. It ain't easy being a dad sometimes.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Wimbledon. Serena and Andy
In a shocker, heavily favored Serena Williams just got knocked off at Wimbledon by Sabine Lasicki of Germany, 6-2, 1-6, 6-4. Obviously, the match yo-yoed from set to set. But in the end, this was no fluke. Lasicki beat Williams' butt fair and square. With the gorilla in the room of ladies' tennis having been dispatched -- it would appear the tournament is now wide open for the women still remaining in contention.
Most tend to forget that despite Serena being the #1 lady player in the world, she'll be 32 on 9/26/13. Sabine will turn 24 four days prior. Like it or not, 32 is getting old in the pro tennis world, and as sure as the sun rises and sets, those young talented kids like Lasicki are going to keep coming from all over the world to challenge the established stars. It's just the nature of the game. Though only a single year older, Serena's elder sib Venus has seemingly recently discovered she can't keep up any more once the competition staring her in the eyes from across the net gets serious.
What is even more interesting is the men's side of Wimbledon. In an even bigger shocker, Rafael Nadal got knocked out in the first round. Long time, but aging superstar Roger Federer would quickly follow him to the airport on a flight home. Even not so notable, but highly ranked and always dangerous player Jo Wilfried Tsonga got the boot.
This opens up the possibility of an extraordinary event happening. What if Andy Murray were to win Wimbledon? Yes, that dastardly Serb Novak Djokovic, by most accounts far and away the #1 player in the world, is still there. But hey, Murray won the Olympic gold medal in tennis not long ago and is ranked as high as #2 in the world by many knowledgeable tennis folks. He's got a shot.
The last time a male "Brit" won Wimbledon was when a guy named Fred Perry pulled it off way back in 1936. As in before WWII. As in when future queen Lizzie the Deuce was only a few years removed from her royal pacifier. As in when my editor wrote his first column as a cub reporter. A LONG time ago.
But a native finally breaking through a historic barrier is something Americans could never appreciate, because they're spoiled. Every year American sports fans have the World Series, the Super Bowl, NBA championship, and Stanley Cup winners. Plus there's the March Madness of college hoops and the NASCAR "chase" in the fall, amongst other sporting events. As soon as one sports high ends, another one is there to quickly fill the void.
But if Murray were to defeat Djokovic and win Wimbledon, can you imagine the celebration it would set off in Great Britain? They'd be partying for weeks, months, years, and good for them. It might be akin to the American hockey squad pulling off the "miracle on ice" at the Olympics back in 1980 when they improbably defeated the mighty Soviet Red Army team. That wasn't supposed to happen either, but you never know. Do you believe in miracles?
Then again, I'm still trying to figure out exactly what constitutes an "Englishman". I'm pretty sure Wales is in the mix. The people from Cornwall have historically been known for their underground mining expertise -- not to mention those little chickens called Cornish hens. Good stuff, and keep them coming. Not so sure about the Irish. Some of them embrace jolly old England and some of them would like nothing better than to give them the boot. Go figure.
Thing is -- Andy Murray is Scottish by birth. Kind of like Sean Connery, the original and best ever James Bond. Most people think of both as "Brits". Does being a Scotsman fall under the umbrella of the "United Kingdom", hence they are British? Beats me.
But if Murray wins Wimbledon, somehow I suspect it will be close enough.
Most tend to forget that despite Serena being the #1 lady player in the world, she'll be 32 on 9/26/13. Sabine will turn 24 four days prior. Like it or not, 32 is getting old in the pro tennis world, and as sure as the sun rises and sets, those young talented kids like Lasicki are going to keep coming from all over the world to challenge the established stars. It's just the nature of the game. Though only a single year older, Serena's elder sib Venus has seemingly recently discovered she can't keep up any more once the competition staring her in the eyes from across the net gets serious.
What is even more interesting is the men's side of Wimbledon. In an even bigger shocker, Rafael Nadal got knocked out in the first round. Long time, but aging superstar Roger Federer would quickly follow him to the airport on a flight home. Even not so notable, but highly ranked and always dangerous player Jo Wilfried Tsonga got the boot.
This opens up the possibility of an extraordinary event happening. What if Andy Murray were to win Wimbledon? Yes, that dastardly Serb Novak Djokovic, by most accounts far and away the #1 player in the world, is still there. But hey, Murray won the Olympic gold medal in tennis not long ago and is ranked as high as #2 in the world by many knowledgeable tennis folks. He's got a shot.
The last time a male "Brit" won Wimbledon was when a guy named Fred Perry pulled it off way back in 1936. As in before WWII. As in when future queen Lizzie the Deuce was only a few years removed from her royal pacifier. As in when my editor wrote his first column as a cub reporter. A LONG time ago.
But a native finally breaking through a historic barrier is something Americans could never appreciate, because they're spoiled. Every year American sports fans have the World Series, the Super Bowl, NBA championship, and Stanley Cup winners. Plus there's the March Madness of college hoops and the NASCAR "chase" in the fall, amongst other sporting events. As soon as one sports high ends, another one is there to quickly fill the void.
But if Murray were to defeat Djokovic and win Wimbledon, can you imagine the celebration it would set off in Great Britain? They'd be partying for weeks, months, years, and good for them. It might be akin to the American hockey squad pulling off the "miracle on ice" at the Olympics back in 1980 when they improbably defeated the mighty Soviet Red Army team. That wasn't supposed to happen either, but you never know. Do you believe in miracles?
Then again, I'm still trying to figure out exactly what constitutes an "Englishman". I'm pretty sure Wales is in the mix. The people from Cornwall have historically been known for their underground mining expertise -- not to mention those little chickens called Cornish hens. Good stuff, and keep them coming. Not so sure about the Irish. Some of them embrace jolly old England and some of them would like nothing better than to give them the boot. Go figure.
Thing is -- Andy Murray is Scottish by birth. Kind of like Sean Connery, the original and best ever James Bond. Most people think of both as "Brits". Does being a Scotsman fall under the umbrella of the "United Kingdom", hence they are British? Beats me.
But if Murray wins Wimbledon, somehow I suspect it will be close enough.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)