So after one round Dustin Johnson is leading the Open at 7 under with Jordan Spieth two shots behind. Sound familiar? A wry smile over Spieth's comment about DJ, his opening round playing partner. JS said DJ could occasionally bomb drives 380 yards, but Spieth " didn't have that option in his bag". He would have to make up for it in other ways. Hey, nobody has that option in their bag, unless he moonlights as a reporter and works with Lois Lane.
Almost predictably, Tiger Woods once again bumbled his way around the course and is 11 shots back after a single round. Even more predictably he let loose with yet another F-bomb. Some people are born with class and others acquire it, but there are those that are forever destined to never fully grasp the essence of being a class act. This flaw usually shows up in stressful or frustrating moments. One can groom a dog to perfection, teach it a lot of tricks, and it might win several awards at shows. But it's usually only a matter of time before it reverts back to its true nature and pees on something in the house when it thinks you're not looking. It's not their fault. They're dogs. This is what they do. For Eldrick to blaspheme on the hallowed course of St. Andrews is akin to the same behavior. A true gentleman would never, EVER do such a thing. To steal a line from the classic Blue Brothers movie -- this boy needs some serious churching up. Better yet, a few minutes in the woodshed with Granny Clampett or Adrian Petersen and a switch.
And right on cue, of course, was the obligatory post-round press conference with Tiger. So why is the media still interested in a player not even ranked in the top 200 in the world that finds himself tied for 139th place -- out of a total field of 156 -- after a single round? Forget winning, Woods won't even make the cut. Not even close. It's just a matter of how many more strokes he'll fall behind in Round two. Hopefully he can pull it off without more F-bombs, throwing or beating clubs into the ground, and other boorish behavior that seems to be in his DNA. Reverting to his mild mannered Doctor Jekyll mode in front of the cameras, Tiger said he made a few mistakes on the course. No kidding. That's like saying the Polish army on horseback were a bit off when they charged German Panzer divisions of tanks in World War II. That didn't work out so well either.
The question now becomes -- how bad does this guy have to get, and for how long, before the hero worship finally goes away? He's not coming back, in this tournament or in the future at others. Stick a fork in him. It's over. Like Woods once blew past the established stars, the current young guns have left him in their wake as well. It's only going to get worse.
Yet that poses another interesting possible scenario. Tiger Woods will turn 40 in December. Not exactly a geezer, but no spring chicken on the tour either. So what happens if his game continues to deteriorate and it becomes obvious he can't be competitive going up against the big boys? What then?
He'd have to wait 10 years until he turned 50 to qualify for the AARP, sometimes loosely called the Champions Tour.
Ten years is a long time to be in limbo. The prisoners in Gitmo can no doubt fully comprehend that because they don't have a choice. But yours truly isn't so sure what the likes of Eldrick Tont Woods will do in his 40s. Will he keep plugging away on the PGA and selling not only himself but the hordes of suckers that a magical comeback to glory is just around the corner? Is anybody dumb enough to believe that? And how embarrassing does his play have to get before the spell wears off?
Here's at least hoping by the time he turns 50 -- whatever he's done during the previous decade -- the curtain has mercifully fallen on the Tiger Show. No more inane press conferences. No more incessant high and lowlight replays. And please God, no more sensationalizing every detail of his personal life. Who cares? He's a golfer, not the Pope. Just a dude being a dude. He's going to mess up once in a while. Seen his chips shots lately?
And though Jake has passed on, maybe Elwood can arrange for Tiger to have a long talk with a certain nun (The Penguin). She set the Blue Brothers on the path to salvation once upon a time. Perhaps she could work her sister magic with Woods as well.
Couldn't hurt to try.....
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
The (British) Open. And the winner is.....
Have you noticed the word "British" has been dropped from this major golf tournament in recent times? Sure, those across the pond have always referred to it as "The Open", but for decades Americans have called it the British Open. Not any more, and maybe that's a good thing. After all, the game of golf was supposedly invented in Scotland way back in the 16th century -- or approximately the time Larry King did his first interview. They have a right to call it whatever they want and the Yanks should respect it.
But deferring to the wishes of the "senior circuit" (can you hear me Regis?) is one thing. Total revererance and awe are quite another. The Open is a great event but let's not get carried away. It's not Moses coming down from the mountain with a new politically correct pair of tablets (scary thought), the Second Coming, or a Kardashian being elected US President in 2016 (REALLY scary thought). It's a golf tournament. There's one every week. They come and they go.
One would think Jordan Spieth would be a favorite to win, given his triumphs at the Masters, US Open, and even the Green Tractor Classic last week -- but not according to Andy North, the former PGA player turned "expert" talking head. Andy has ruled him out, along with several other players for his own reasons.
[It should be noted that Andy North played on the PGA tour for 30 years and chalked up a grand total of 3 -- count-em -- THREE victories during his career. That averages out to one a decade, so what the hell does he know anyway?]
Nevertheless, North has laid out Andy's laws of who shalt and shalt not win the Open.
First, the player has to be over 30 years old. That wipes out a whole bunch of guys like Spieth, Jason Day, Ricky Fowler, and a couple of notable Johnsons to name a few. Geez, I thought they had a chance. Guess not. North's logic is a player must have years of experience playing the Old Course to appreciate it and be competitive. Hey, it's still only a golf course. An inanimate tract of land. It's not like it has a mind of its own and will destroy young linksters Terminator style. Drive it in the fairways, stay out of those ridiculous pot bunkers, and make a few putts. This is hardly rocket science much less trying to sort out all the problems in the Middle East so everybody is happy. It's 72 holes of golf, just like every other tournament. Whoever shoots the lowest score wins. Pretty simple.
Oddly enough, North eliminated Phil Mickelson from contention, even though Lefty won the Open just a couple years ago and is 45. He certainly has the experience, so go figure.
Andy said only a golfer ranked in the top 8 in the world has a shot. That rules out a few more prospects.
So who is left? Sergio Garcia, Ian Poulter, Brandt Snedeker, and Louis Oosthuizen? All worthy players indeed that meet his criteria.
But after his presentation of old school flash-card sabermetrics while drawing on his infinite expertise about an event he was never remotely competitive at for 30 years, Andy North has boldly predicted a winner.
One Henrik Stenson. The Swede is 39, ranked 7th in the world, and has racked up 17 professional tournament victories -- though only 4 in PGA events. For the most part, Stenson has made his dough and fame on the European circuit.
Wouldn't it be something if Andy North was right and Stenson actually won The Open? Could happen.
But yours truly still thinks the young guns will be there on the back nine on Sunday slugging it out for the Claret Jug. Times, they are a-changing, and quickly.
We'll see.....
As a footnote, here's to Tom Watson -- a 5 time winner of the Open and an all around class act over the decades. He's playing in his last Open. The chances of him winning it are not good, but it would be great to see him not only make the cut, but be in the hunt on Sunday for his last go-round where the game began. If there's any justice in the golf world, Tom Watson will be able to doff his cap, smile and wave at the throng of fans surrounding the 18th green that know how to show their appreciation for greatness.
One can only hope.
But deferring to the wishes of the "senior circuit" (can you hear me Regis?) is one thing. Total revererance and awe are quite another. The Open is a great event but let's not get carried away. It's not Moses coming down from the mountain with a new politically correct pair of tablets (scary thought), the Second Coming, or a Kardashian being elected US President in 2016 (REALLY scary thought). It's a golf tournament. There's one every week. They come and they go.
One would think Jordan Spieth would be a favorite to win, given his triumphs at the Masters, US Open, and even the Green Tractor Classic last week -- but not according to Andy North, the former PGA player turned "expert" talking head. Andy has ruled him out, along with several other players for his own reasons.
[It should be noted that Andy North played on the PGA tour for 30 years and chalked up a grand total of 3 -- count-em -- THREE victories during his career. That averages out to one a decade, so what the hell does he know anyway?]
Nevertheless, North has laid out Andy's laws of who shalt and shalt not win the Open.
First, the player has to be over 30 years old. That wipes out a whole bunch of guys like Spieth, Jason Day, Ricky Fowler, and a couple of notable Johnsons to name a few. Geez, I thought they had a chance. Guess not. North's logic is a player must have years of experience playing the Old Course to appreciate it and be competitive. Hey, it's still only a golf course. An inanimate tract of land. It's not like it has a mind of its own and will destroy young linksters Terminator style. Drive it in the fairways, stay out of those ridiculous pot bunkers, and make a few putts. This is hardly rocket science much less trying to sort out all the problems in the Middle East so everybody is happy. It's 72 holes of golf, just like every other tournament. Whoever shoots the lowest score wins. Pretty simple.
Oddly enough, North eliminated Phil Mickelson from contention, even though Lefty won the Open just a couple years ago and is 45. He certainly has the experience, so go figure.
Andy said only a golfer ranked in the top 8 in the world has a shot. That rules out a few more prospects.
So who is left? Sergio Garcia, Ian Poulter, Brandt Snedeker, and Louis Oosthuizen? All worthy players indeed that meet his criteria.
But after his presentation of old school flash-card sabermetrics while drawing on his infinite expertise about an event he was never remotely competitive at for 30 years, Andy North has boldly predicted a winner.
One Henrik Stenson. The Swede is 39, ranked 7th in the world, and has racked up 17 professional tournament victories -- though only 4 in PGA events. For the most part, Stenson has made his dough and fame on the European circuit.
Wouldn't it be something if Andy North was right and Stenson actually won The Open? Could happen.
But yours truly still thinks the young guns will be there on the back nine on Sunday slugging it out for the Claret Jug. Times, they are a-changing, and quickly.
We'll see.....
As a footnote, here's to Tom Watson -- a 5 time winner of the Open and an all around class act over the decades. He's playing in his last Open. The chances of him winning it are not good, but it would be great to see him not only make the cut, but be in the hunt on Sunday for his last go-round where the game began. If there's any justice in the golf world, Tom Watson will be able to doff his cap, smile and wave at the throng of fans surrounding the 18th green that know how to show their appreciation for greatness.
One can only hope.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
All Star game thoughts
In pre-game festivities, it was pretty cool they trotted out four guys that were voted the greatest living legends in the game of baseball. Sandy Koufax, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron and Johnny Bench. All Hall of Famers, of course, and definitely worthy of the honor. What went unnoticed was all four were National League players. Curious.
Per usual, the latest and greatest sensation of the stage, screen, videos and vocals (allegedly) was presented to sing the National Anthem. Just one question -- if she's so noteworthy -- how come I never heard of her? Didn't know her name then and can't remember it now.
Nevertheless Bimbo and her back-up Bimbettes went on to butcher the National Anthem. What is it with these people? Don't they understand they are privileged to be on such a stage in the first place? They are there to sing a song honoring our country. They are NOT there to show off their "dubious" talents by jerking it around. Is it just too difficult a concept for them to comprehend that singing it the exact way Francis Scott Key wrote it during the War of 1812 is appropriate? And jazzing it up is disrespectful? You never see this happen at NHL rinks when a world-class singer belts out O Canada. Then again, they have a way of getting operatic tenors to do the honors -- people that can give one goose bumps with their voices -- rather than trotting out the latest here today, gone tomorrow twit like the Americans have become so fond of showcasing.
Idle thought: What do you think would happen to other such singers if they took it upon themselves -- with the world watching -- to mangle their country's National Anthem? The guess here is most European nations would not be amused. Others around the world might react a bit harsher. As in, that singer would never be heard of again for showing such disrepect to their country. If not summarily executed, perhaps a long prison sentence doing hard labor in a Gulag somewhere would be imposed. Either way, it would definitely serve as a deterrent to the next singer of their National Anthem. Trust me -- they'd get it right -- as it should be. Only America tolerates this nonsense.
During the game itself, home plate umpire Tim Welke had a very strange strike zone. Evidently, ankle-high pitched balls are now called strikes in his myopic world. It happened over and over again. In a regular season game the batters would likely have screamed bloody murder, but they let such things slide in the All-Star game. Nevertheless, there's only one thing a batter can do with a pitch at his ankles. Hit a ground ball. Welke may be a veteran ump, but if he bothers to watch the tape of the game later, he should be embarrassed by some of the strikes he called. They weren't even close.
True to form, the hypesters were in full stats from hell mode going into and throughout the game. They have more superlatives than the Guiness book of records these days when it comes to players. Everybody's the greatest at something. Objective criticism is no longer allowed. The politically correct thing.
Sure enough, they gushed over National League starting pitcher Zach Greinke of the Los Angeles Dodgers. The Zackster hadn't allowed a run in his last 36 innings of pitching. True, that's impressive.
But once the game started, Greinke didn't make it through the first hitter he faced without giving up a run. Mike Trout lined his fourth pitch into the right field seats for a homer. Oops. No doubt ZG is a great pitcher, but it turns out the All-Stars from the other team can hit a bit too, even as they had to deal with Welke's crazy strike zone.
That brings up another idea. During All-Star games, playoffs, and the World Series, supposedly the "best" umpires are selected to officiate the contests. And unlike regular season games, there are 6 of them rather than 4.
So why not rotate them every inning? After one inning behind the plate, that umpire goes to first base. The one on first to the right field line. The right field line ump to second base. And on around the diamond. The third base ump would put on the chest protector and face mask and assume duties behind the plate, etc. Look at the upsides. The pitchers rarely last more than one inning, so a different strike zone to the new pitcher wouldn't be a problem any more than a regular game. The umps themselves would probably like it. They get to walk around a little bit instead of standing like statues in their original positions for hours. At the end of innings, by the time one team came off the field and the other went on, plus the pitcher's 8 warm-up tosses, the umps could easily shift with time to spare. They're supposed to know all the umpire positions and be the best at them -- right? So move them around. I fail to see a downside to this change in the games.
In the end, the American League triumphed and their league champion will have home field advantage in the World Series. Good luck trying to figure out which team that might be. And home field advantage doesn't mean squat in major league baseball games. Anybody can beat anybody else in any given game at home or on the road. It's been proven over and over again.
But for now the ALers have bragging rights over the "senior circuit". Too bad they didn't have a player considered "top 4" all-time worthy for the pre-game festivities. That was an NL sweep. But Sandy, Say Hey, Hammerin' and Johnny B were a very impressive group.
Maybe they should have sung the National Anthem in four-part harmony barbershop quartet style instead of the B-girls. Bet they'd have got it right....
Per usual, the latest and greatest sensation of the stage, screen, videos and vocals (allegedly) was presented to sing the National Anthem. Just one question -- if she's so noteworthy -- how come I never heard of her? Didn't know her name then and can't remember it now.
Nevertheless Bimbo and her back-up Bimbettes went on to butcher the National Anthem. What is it with these people? Don't they understand they are privileged to be on such a stage in the first place? They are there to sing a song honoring our country. They are NOT there to show off their "dubious" talents by jerking it around. Is it just too difficult a concept for them to comprehend that singing it the exact way Francis Scott Key wrote it during the War of 1812 is appropriate? And jazzing it up is disrespectful? You never see this happen at NHL rinks when a world-class singer belts out O Canada. Then again, they have a way of getting operatic tenors to do the honors -- people that can give one goose bumps with their voices -- rather than trotting out the latest here today, gone tomorrow twit like the Americans have become so fond of showcasing.
Idle thought: What do you think would happen to other such singers if they took it upon themselves -- with the world watching -- to mangle their country's National Anthem? The guess here is most European nations would not be amused. Others around the world might react a bit harsher. As in, that singer would never be heard of again for showing such disrepect to their country. If not summarily executed, perhaps a long prison sentence doing hard labor in a Gulag somewhere would be imposed. Either way, it would definitely serve as a deterrent to the next singer of their National Anthem. Trust me -- they'd get it right -- as it should be. Only America tolerates this nonsense.
During the game itself, home plate umpire Tim Welke had a very strange strike zone. Evidently, ankle-high pitched balls are now called strikes in his myopic world. It happened over and over again. In a regular season game the batters would likely have screamed bloody murder, but they let such things slide in the All-Star game. Nevertheless, there's only one thing a batter can do with a pitch at his ankles. Hit a ground ball. Welke may be a veteran ump, but if he bothers to watch the tape of the game later, he should be embarrassed by some of the strikes he called. They weren't even close.
True to form, the hypesters were in full stats from hell mode going into and throughout the game. They have more superlatives than the Guiness book of records these days when it comes to players. Everybody's the greatest at something. Objective criticism is no longer allowed. The politically correct thing.
Sure enough, they gushed over National League starting pitcher Zach Greinke of the Los Angeles Dodgers. The Zackster hadn't allowed a run in his last 36 innings of pitching. True, that's impressive.
But once the game started, Greinke didn't make it through the first hitter he faced without giving up a run. Mike Trout lined his fourth pitch into the right field seats for a homer. Oops. No doubt ZG is a great pitcher, but it turns out the All-Stars from the other team can hit a bit too, even as they had to deal with Welke's crazy strike zone.
That brings up another idea. During All-Star games, playoffs, and the World Series, supposedly the "best" umpires are selected to officiate the contests. And unlike regular season games, there are 6 of them rather than 4.
So why not rotate them every inning? After one inning behind the plate, that umpire goes to first base. The one on first to the right field line. The right field line ump to second base. And on around the diamond. The third base ump would put on the chest protector and face mask and assume duties behind the plate, etc. Look at the upsides. The pitchers rarely last more than one inning, so a different strike zone to the new pitcher wouldn't be a problem any more than a regular game. The umps themselves would probably like it. They get to walk around a little bit instead of standing like statues in their original positions for hours. At the end of innings, by the time one team came off the field and the other went on, plus the pitcher's 8 warm-up tosses, the umps could easily shift with time to spare. They're supposed to know all the umpire positions and be the best at them -- right? So move them around. I fail to see a downside to this change in the games.
In the end, the American League triumphed and their league champion will have home field advantage in the World Series. Good luck trying to figure out which team that might be. And home field advantage doesn't mean squat in major league baseball games. Anybody can beat anybody else in any given game at home or on the road. It's been proven over and over again.
But for now the ALers have bragging rights over the "senior circuit". Too bad they didn't have a player considered "top 4" all-time worthy for the pre-game festivities. That was an NL sweep. But Sandy, Say Hey, Hammerin' and Johnny B were a very impressive group.
Maybe they should have sung the National Anthem in four-part harmony barbershop quartet style instead of the B-girls. Bet they'd have got it right....
Monday, July 13, 2015
The Home Run Derby farce
Somehow it seemed fitting that the 4-letter network would bring Chris (The Boomer) Berman out of semi-retirement for this year's major league home run derby. After all, who better with his back back back back back back back signature routine to scream into a microphone for such an event? Yet the Boomer soon gave way to the current generation of ranting hypsters that he has evidently spawned. Maybe Berman can't hit the high (glass breaking) note any more. It happens. Here's wishing him well if he fades back back back back back back back out of the ranting audios again.
It's great they set a 5 minute time limit on how long any participant had to take his mighty cuts. Enough with the theatrics and hamming it up for the crowd. Get in the box and hit, dammit. The clock is ticking. But facets of this year's Derby were shameful, even laughable.
Though simple enough, it couldn't just be an ironclad 5 minutes. Oh hell no. These guys actually got a time-out. What did we learn from this? Evidently, after taking batting practice for a whole 3 minutes, they were "gassed" and in need of a breather. Three minutes swinging a bat every ten seconds or so is the limit of their endurance? Really?? That's pitiful.
During his time-out, former Tiger Prince Fielder even took a large bite out of a kid's cotton candy. Great idea, Prince. Every chance you get -- eat something -- especially if it's free. No wonder you've always looked like a bearded beachball.
So as such things go these days, it couldn't just be a one-shot thing. Whoever hits the most home runs in their five minutes wins. Oh hell no. There had to be brackets. You know, quarter finals, semis, and -- sound the trumpets -- THE FINALS. This was good for fans in attendance at the ball park because dragging this event on for so long resulted in a lot of souvenir baseballs going into the stands. Also good for sponsors (commercials). Lots of those.
Idle thought: What gives with the latest erectile dysfunction commercial? Here we have a beautiful young woman at a seaside mansion replete with swimming pool and every other luxury known to mankind. Millions of men would love to enjoy her company in such an exotic setting. So why is she wearing a wedding band and where is her husband? Bet he won't be too happy if he sees those ads.
Finally, mercifully, as the brackets were pared down in their marathonish 5 minutes of "brutal labor", time-outs, cotton candy, and all -- we would know the winners. Five minutes is five minutes, right? Oh hell no. Then -- like a soccer game -- they got "extra" time. Another 30 seconds or so to take a few more cuts. So what's the point in setting a 5 minute time limit in the first place?
What has become laughable is how the talking heads ooh and aah over every home run hit. They will scream of monster blasts, moonshots, and there goes another one into orbit. Lots of the home runs hit were over 400 feet, but that's not at all unusual during any pre-game batting practice session.
Thing is, the longest of them all in this year's Derby was a little over 480 feet. The talking heads went ballistic as if it was going to send back pictures from Neptune any second. Nobody came close to 500 feet. This, despite custom made bats, hotter balls (no reference to the idle thought above) and supposedly stronger athletes. In the old days lots of guys hit baseballs over 500 feet. Nowadays, nobody can approach it, and that seems odd.
I don't know who eventually won this year's Derby because I could only stand so much of the hype and wimpiness before finally tuning out. But if they want to make it much more interesting in years to come -- here's an idea.
Forget about the major leaguers. If you want to see "moon shots" bring in some of the heavyweights from slow-pitch softball. Yours truly played several years in a highly competitive league. The fences were anywhere from 300 to 325 feet at different parks. I could barely get one out every once in a while but the brutes routinely hit some colossal shots, likely 400 feet or better. With a softball.
Let guys like that bat in the Home Run Derby. How far could they hit a baseball lobbed up to them? 600? Over the scoreboard and out of the park? Beats me, but it would be quite a long distance show.
Besides, my former compadres wouldn't sweat like pigs and gasp for air after a measly 3 minutes on the field, and they surely wouldn't cop some kid's cotton candy. They had much more endurance and style.
At least until after the game. But like Vegas, what happened at the bars -- or shortly thereafter -- stayed at the bars. Sort of. Let's just say you didn't want to get stuck with the tab and good luck in the morning......
It's great they set a 5 minute time limit on how long any participant had to take his mighty cuts. Enough with the theatrics and hamming it up for the crowd. Get in the box and hit, dammit. The clock is ticking. But facets of this year's Derby were shameful, even laughable.
Though simple enough, it couldn't just be an ironclad 5 minutes. Oh hell no. These guys actually got a time-out. What did we learn from this? Evidently, after taking batting practice for a whole 3 minutes, they were "gassed" and in need of a breather. Three minutes swinging a bat every ten seconds or so is the limit of their endurance? Really?? That's pitiful.
During his time-out, former Tiger Prince Fielder even took a large bite out of a kid's cotton candy. Great idea, Prince. Every chance you get -- eat something -- especially if it's free. No wonder you've always looked like a bearded beachball.
So as such things go these days, it couldn't just be a one-shot thing. Whoever hits the most home runs in their five minutes wins. Oh hell no. There had to be brackets. You know, quarter finals, semis, and -- sound the trumpets -- THE FINALS. This was good for fans in attendance at the ball park because dragging this event on for so long resulted in a lot of souvenir baseballs going into the stands. Also good for sponsors (commercials). Lots of those.
Idle thought: What gives with the latest erectile dysfunction commercial? Here we have a beautiful young woman at a seaside mansion replete with swimming pool and every other luxury known to mankind. Millions of men would love to enjoy her company in such an exotic setting. So why is she wearing a wedding band and where is her husband? Bet he won't be too happy if he sees those ads.
Finally, mercifully, as the brackets were pared down in their marathonish 5 minutes of "brutal labor", time-outs, cotton candy, and all -- we would know the winners. Five minutes is five minutes, right? Oh hell no. Then -- like a soccer game -- they got "extra" time. Another 30 seconds or so to take a few more cuts. So what's the point in setting a 5 minute time limit in the first place?
What has become laughable is how the talking heads ooh and aah over every home run hit. They will scream of monster blasts, moonshots, and there goes another one into orbit. Lots of the home runs hit were over 400 feet, but that's not at all unusual during any pre-game batting practice session.
Thing is, the longest of them all in this year's Derby was a little over 480 feet. The talking heads went ballistic as if it was going to send back pictures from Neptune any second. Nobody came close to 500 feet. This, despite custom made bats, hotter balls (no reference to the idle thought above) and supposedly stronger athletes. In the old days lots of guys hit baseballs over 500 feet. Nowadays, nobody can approach it, and that seems odd.
I don't know who eventually won this year's Derby because I could only stand so much of the hype and wimpiness before finally tuning out. But if they want to make it much more interesting in years to come -- here's an idea.
Forget about the major leaguers. If you want to see "moon shots" bring in some of the heavyweights from slow-pitch softball. Yours truly played several years in a highly competitive league. The fences were anywhere from 300 to 325 feet at different parks. I could barely get one out every once in a while but the brutes routinely hit some colossal shots, likely 400 feet or better. With a softball.
Let guys like that bat in the Home Run Derby. How far could they hit a baseball lobbed up to them? 600? Over the scoreboard and out of the park? Beats me, but it would be quite a long distance show.
Besides, my former compadres wouldn't sweat like pigs and gasp for air after a measly 3 minutes on the field, and they surely wouldn't cop some kid's cotton candy. They had much more endurance and style.
At least until after the game. But like Vegas, what happened at the bars -- or shortly thereafter -- stayed at the bars. Sort of. Let's just say you didn't want to get stuck with the tab and good luck in the morning......
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Grading the Detroit Tigers
With over half the season now played and heading into the All-Star break, the Detroit Tigers find themselves with a record of 44-44. Exactly .500. They're a whopping 9 games behind AL Central division leading Kansas City, 4 and a half games behind second place Minnesota and only two games out of the basement in the division, currently shared by Cleveland and the Chisox.
The Motown glass half-fullers maintain all is not lost. The Tigers could still recover, get on a bit of a roll, and make it into the post-season as a wildcard. Indeed they could. However, things could also go the other way and they could tumble into the cellar. Let's look at them.
Starting pitching.
Only an idiot would say the Tigers don't miss the presence of Max Scherzer. Former ace Justin Verlander's last two seasons have been no more than average. So far this year, the Fastball Flakes man has made over $15 million and has yet to win a single game. David Price remains the real deal, but he's likely got his eye on free agency after this season. Anabal Sanchez has his good days and bad days on the mound. At times he's almost unhittable. Other times it looks like he's pitching batting practice. The rest of the starters the Tigers keep trying to plug in have been castaways from other teams or brought up from the farm system. They started out okay, but as the year has gone on and opposing hitters have seen them a few times, they appear to be less and less effective. Overall, the starting pitching grades out at maybe a C.
Relief pitching.
It's pretty much a joke. If the starters don't go deep into a game with the hitters providing them a big lead, the Tigers are in trouble. Pinball machine time. Grade FF -- as in Freaking Farce.
Position players.
Good news and bad news.
J.D. Martinez has been hitting out of his mind so far this season. That's good news. Can he be expected to keep up the same pace for the second half of the season? Likely not. Not so good news.
The same with shortstop Jose Iglesias. At least he's stayed healthy and is slick with the glove. Good. Like Martinez, he enjoyed a stellar first half with the bat. But JI's history suggests he'll fade down the stretch. Just in the last couple weeks his batting average has fallen 20 points. Bad.
The absence of slugger supreme Miguel Cabrera certainly hasn't helped. Yet the Tigers have scored over 6 runs per game without him. Normally, that would be good news. Problem is the above-mentioned pitching staff keeps getting rocked. Six doesn't seem to be enough in many games.
Second baseman Ian Kinsler was once All-Star caliber, but seems to be on the back side of his bell curve.
Third baseman Nick Castellanos has improved his fielding, but remains spotty at best with the bat. A big hit here and a slump there.
Left fielder Yoenis Cespedes is tough to figure. He seems to have gobs of talent, truly a 5-tool player, but there's probably a reason he couldn't stick with the last couple teams he played on. So far he's been about average, but at least he filled the whozit hole in left field the Tigers had last year.
Unlike Cespedes, Victor Martinez is strictly a one dimensional player. He can hit. Period. If V-Mart was in the National League where they don't have a designated hitter -- he couldn't play. VM can't field any defensive position. Sure, a team could plug him in at first base and hope for the best, but there are beer-leaguers and grandmas out there that could likely play it just as well. Plus, he's slower than molasses on the basepaths.
Anthony Goss was a career minor-leaguer until the Tigers gave him a shot. He started off okay, but appears to be finding his equilibrium as a so-so player. There's a reason he was in the minors for so long. It's not like all the other teams overlooked him.
Catcher James McCann has certainly been a pleasant surprise. So far, he's held his own with the bat and has a terrific throwing arm from behind the plate. Longtime backstop Alex Avila was known as a defensive catcher but he never could hit much, and for whatever reasons AA struggled to stay healthy behind the plate. Those pesky high-speed projectiles seemed to have a way of hitting him repeatedly. Too many standing 8 counts. Then again, if he wasn't the son of the assistant General Manager, he might never have got this shot in the first place. When's the last time you heard of other teams clamoring for the services of a .210 hitting catcher that can't stay healthy?
Outfielder Rajai Davis plays some but sits more.
The Tigers have a handful of other guys to fill out their active 25 man roster. Among them are Andrew Romine, Hernan Perez, Josh Wilson, and Jefry Marte. These are known as "utility players". Translation? None of them are really good at any one thing, but the team will plug them in at various positions when the regular player needs a day off and hope for the best -- because that's all they have. "Utility players" is a nice phrase. It has replaced B-team, scrubs, and benchwarmers.
Considering the whole bunch -- Grade C-.
Front office.
Owner Mike Ilitch pretty much gets a free pass in Detroit because he has devoted so much to it. The Red Wings have been quite successful under his ownership and he's certainly poured a bunch of money into the Fox district to spruce it up. The theater itself is magnificent inside and there's that little bauble called Comerica Park across the street where the Tigers play. No style points for the pizza man whoring off the naming rights to a stadium to some bank conglomerate for a few bucks he didn't need, but as stadiums go, Comerica isn't too shabby. Not the best in the majors, by far, but okay. Just don't venture too far out of the bright-light neighborhood. It's not pretty.
President and head-operating honcho Dave Dombrowki is in the last year of his contract. There have been times when D-ski was hailed as a hero for some of the moves he made on behalf of the Tigers. Getting Miguel Cabrera and David Price was brilliant. Trading starter Doug Fister for a ham sandwich and the Prince Fielder debacle weren't exactly his finest moments.
Ilitch is in his 80s now and his kids are pretty much running the show. Such is the way it goes amongst the billionaire folks. Whether the young-uns will want to re-up D-ski for another hitch remains to be seen.
Ilitch grades out as a C. He wasn't afraid to spend money for talent on his teams -- even though he would get far more in return -- but his dealings surrounding the building of what would become Comerica Park and current insistence on another brand new sparkling palace for the Red Wings to play in seem a bit like the product that made him rich in the first place. A little on the greasy side. There's nothing wrong with Joe Louis Arena. And if and when the new venue is built, count on it that many people will be ousted from their homes through the dreaded "eminent domain", and the taxpayers will be on the hook to finance a good part of it. Make that a C-.
Given his good moves offset by his boneheads, overall Dombrowski rates about a C as well. He's been wheeling and dealing for many years in Detroit, handing out whopper salaries to various players, but the best he has accomplished is a perennial playoff team that can never make it over the hump when it counts the most.
So how to grade the Detroit Tigers overall? As a .500 team it's obvious they get a C.
How to grade their media that has overhyped them all year long?
Let's give them a D. That stands for Delusional in the expectations they foisted onto the fans.
The fans get a D for Dumb as well -- for believing it.
These guys are OK -- sometimes -- but they ain't all that.
After 88 games, they're merely a .500 club. It is what it is. Maybe it gets better -- and maybe it gets worse. It could go either way.....
The Motown glass half-fullers maintain all is not lost. The Tigers could still recover, get on a bit of a roll, and make it into the post-season as a wildcard. Indeed they could. However, things could also go the other way and they could tumble into the cellar. Let's look at them.
Starting pitching.
Only an idiot would say the Tigers don't miss the presence of Max Scherzer. Former ace Justin Verlander's last two seasons have been no more than average. So far this year, the Fastball Flakes man has made over $15 million and has yet to win a single game. David Price remains the real deal, but he's likely got his eye on free agency after this season. Anabal Sanchez has his good days and bad days on the mound. At times he's almost unhittable. Other times it looks like he's pitching batting practice. The rest of the starters the Tigers keep trying to plug in have been castaways from other teams or brought up from the farm system. They started out okay, but as the year has gone on and opposing hitters have seen them a few times, they appear to be less and less effective. Overall, the starting pitching grades out at maybe a C.
Relief pitching.
It's pretty much a joke. If the starters don't go deep into a game with the hitters providing them a big lead, the Tigers are in trouble. Pinball machine time. Grade FF -- as in Freaking Farce.
Position players.
Good news and bad news.
J.D. Martinez has been hitting out of his mind so far this season. That's good news. Can he be expected to keep up the same pace for the second half of the season? Likely not. Not so good news.
The same with shortstop Jose Iglesias. At least he's stayed healthy and is slick with the glove. Good. Like Martinez, he enjoyed a stellar first half with the bat. But JI's history suggests he'll fade down the stretch. Just in the last couple weeks his batting average has fallen 20 points. Bad.
The absence of slugger supreme Miguel Cabrera certainly hasn't helped. Yet the Tigers have scored over 6 runs per game without him. Normally, that would be good news. Problem is the above-mentioned pitching staff keeps getting rocked. Six doesn't seem to be enough in many games.
Second baseman Ian Kinsler was once All-Star caliber, but seems to be on the back side of his bell curve.
Third baseman Nick Castellanos has improved his fielding, but remains spotty at best with the bat. A big hit here and a slump there.
Left fielder Yoenis Cespedes is tough to figure. He seems to have gobs of talent, truly a 5-tool player, but there's probably a reason he couldn't stick with the last couple teams he played on. So far he's been about average, but at least he filled the whozit hole in left field the Tigers had last year.
Unlike Cespedes, Victor Martinez is strictly a one dimensional player. He can hit. Period. If V-Mart was in the National League where they don't have a designated hitter -- he couldn't play. VM can't field any defensive position. Sure, a team could plug him in at first base and hope for the best, but there are beer-leaguers and grandmas out there that could likely play it just as well. Plus, he's slower than molasses on the basepaths.
Anthony Goss was a career minor-leaguer until the Tigers gave him a shot. He started off okay, but appears to be finding his equilibrium as a so-so player. There's a reason he was in the minors for so long. It's not like all the other teams overlooked him.
Catcher James McCann has certainly been a pleasant surprise. So far, he's held his own with the bat and has a terrific throwing arm from behind the plate. Longtime backstop Alex Avila was known as a defensive catcher but he never could hit much, and for whatever reasons AA struggled to stay healthy behind the plate. Those pesky high-speed projectiles seemed to have a way of hitting him repeatedly. Too many standing 8 counts. Then again, if he wasn't the son of the assistant General Manager, he might never have got this shot in the first place. When's the last time you heard of other teams clamoring for the services of a .210 hitting catcher that can't stay healthy?
Outfielder Rajai Davis plays some but sits more.
The Tigers have a handful of other guys to fill out their active 25 man roster. Among them are Andrew Romine, Hernan Perez, Josh Wilson, and Jefry Marte. These are known as "utility players". Translation? None of them are really good at any one thing, but the team will plug them in at various positions when the regular player needs a day off and hope for the best -- because that's all they have. "Utility players" is a nice phrase. It has replaced B-team, scrubs, and benchwarmers.
Considering the whole bunch -- Grade C-.
Front office.
Owner Mike Ilitch pretty much gets a free pass in Detroit because he has devoted so much to it. The Red Wings have been quite successful under his ownership and he's certainly poured a bunch of money into the Fox district to spruce it up. The theater itself is magnificent inside and there's that little bauble called Comerica Park across the street where the Tigers play. No style points for the pizza man whoring off the naming rights to a stadium to some bank conglomerate for a few bucks he didn't need, but as stadiums go, Comerica isn't too shabby. Not the best in the majors, by far, but okay. Just don't venture too far out of the bright-light neighborhood. It's not pretty.
President and head-operating honcho Dave Dombrowki is in the last year of his contract. There have been times when D-ski was hailed as a hero for some of the moves he made on behalf of the Tigers. Getting Miguel Cabrera and David Price was brilliant. Trading starter Doug Fister for a ham sandwich and the Prince Fielder debacle weren't exactly his finest moments.
Ilitch is in his 80s now and his kids are pretty much running the show. Such is the way it goes amongst the billionaire folks. Whether the young-uns will want to re-up D-ski for another hitch remains to be seen.
Ilitch grades out as a C. He wasn't afraid to spend money for talent on his teams -- even though he would get far more in return -- but his dealings surrounding the building of what would become Comerica Park and current insistence on another brand new sparkling palace for the Red Wings to play in seem a bit like the product that made him rich in the first place. A little on the greasy side. There's nothing wrong with Joe Louis Arena. And if and when the new venue is built, count on it that many people will be ousted from their homes through the dreaded "eminent domain", and the taxpayers will be on the hook to finance a good part of it. Make that a C-.
Given his good moves offset by his boneheads, overall Dombrowski rates about a C as well. He's been wheeling and dealing for many years in Detroit, handing out whopper salaries to various players, but the best he has accomplished is a perennial playoff team that can never make it over the hump when it counts the most.
So how to grade the Detroit Tigers overall? As a .500 team it's obvious they get a C.
How to grade their media that has overhyped them all year long?
Let's give them a D. That stands for Delusional in the expectations they foisted onto the fans.
The fans get a D for Dumb as well -- for believing it.
These guys are OK -- sometimes -- but they ain't all that.
After 88 games, they're merely a .500 club. It is what it is. Maybe it gets better -- and maybe it gets worse. It could go either way.....
Friday, July 10, 2015
Jordan Spieth and preparation (not H)
As we know, Jordan Spieth has already won the first two golfing majors this year. He slam dunked the Masters but was fortunate in the US Open when Dustin Johnson 3-putted from 12 feet on the final hole. Nevertheless, few would doubt the 21 year old is as good as it gets in today's golfing world. Young Spieth is certainly looking forward to the British Open next week in his quest for yet another major.
That's what makes his recent play (and commentary) so curious.
After the US Open at Chambers Bay, basically a links course, Spieth took some time off. But he's back this week at the John Deere Classic in Illinois. Spieth shot a ho-hum opening round of even par, but blistered the course with a 7-under 64 in his second round. He went from hovering around the cut line to back in the hunt. How he will fare over the weekend is anybody's guess. With a somewhat watered-down field in a tourney the week before The Open, it wouldn't be at all surprising if Spieth chalks up another win.
But Jordan has said this was a tune up for the Open next week at the Old Course of St. Andrews. That doesn't make any sense.
If he took time off after playing and winning the closest thing to a links course in America, why would he go back to playing another typical American course on the eve of the Open? At the John Deere, the course has the usual PGA fairways, rough, trees, traps, water hazards, and soft greens.
So why play such a course that demands a totally different game than St. Andrews will pose next week? Wouldn't it have been wiser to stay in Chambers Bay mode and already be over in jolly old England practicing on another links course in his quest for the Claret Jug? You never saw Jack or Eldrick playing in a second tier tournament the week before a major. They were honing their game for the bigger challenge and much tougher field that lied ahead. Unlike the John Deere, all the big boys -- minus Rory McIlroy -- will be there.
Here's wishing Jordan Spieth all the best. Though he's currently several shots behind at the Tractor Open, if he goes out and shoots a couple more stellar rounds, entirely possible, he just might win this thing. You don't win the Masters and US Open back to back on a fluke. This dude is the real deal with a complete game.
But he's not doing himself any favors by warming up on an American course to get ready for the Open. That's like NASCAR drivers running test laps at a short track the week before Daytona or Talladega. Sure, they still go as fast as they can and turn left, but it's nowhere near the same set-up that awaits them the following week.
It will be interesting to see how Spieth's "preparation" plays out at the Royal and Ancient course. If he pulls off another victory for the third leg of a same-year Grand Slam -- which has never been done -- can you imagine the hype that will build leading up to the final major (PGA) in a few weeks?
Here's hoping he does. Spieth is the best thing to come out of Texas since, um, um, um, well let's just say the boy has some serious potential.
That's what makes his recent play (and commentary) so curious.
After the US Open at Chambers Bay, basically a links course, Spieth took some time off. But he's back this week at the John Deere Classic in Illinois. Spieth shot a ho-hum opening round of even par, but blistered the course with a 7-under 64 in his second round. He went from hovering around the cut line to back in the hunt. How he will fare over the weekend is anybody's guess. With a somewhat watered-down field in a tourney the week before The Open, it wouldn't be at all surprising if Spieth chalks up another win.
But Jordan has said this was a tune up for the Open next week at the Old Course of St. Andrews. That doesn't make any sense.
If he took time off after playing and winning the closest thing to a links course in America, why would he go back to playing another typical American course on the eve of the Open? At the John Deere, the course has the usual PGA fairways, rough, trees, traps, water hazards, and soft greens.
So why play such a course that demands a totally different game than St. Andrews will pose next week? Wouldn't it have been wiser to stay in Chambers Bay mode and already be over in jolly old England practicing on another links course in his quest for the Claret Jug? You never saw Jack or Eldrick playing in a second tier tournament the week before a major. They were honing their game for the bigger challenge and much tougher field that lied ahead. Unlike the John Deere, all the big boys -- minus Rory McIlroy -- will be there.
Here's wishing Jordan Spieth all the best. Though he's currently several shots behind at the Tractor Open, if he goes out and shoots a couple more stellar rounds, entirely possible, he just might win this thing. You don't win the Masters and US Open back to back on a fluke. This dude is the real deal with a complete game.
But he's not doing himself any favors by warming up on an American course to get ready for the Open. That's like NASCAR drivers running test laps at a short track the week before Daytona or Talladega. Sure, they still go as fast as they can and turn left, but it's nowhere near the same set-up that awaits them the following week.
It will be interesting to see how Spieth's "preparation" plays out at the Royal and Ancient course. If he pulls off another victory for the third leg of a same-year Grand Slam -- which has never been done -- can you imagine the hype that will build leading up to the final major (PGA) in a few weeks?
Here's hoping he does. Spieth is the best thing to come out of Texas since, um, um, um, well let's just say the boy has some serious potential.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Stuff happens
The last sentence of my previous post (see "Calvin Johnson and the wrong place") was "stuff happens".
Indeed it does, sometimes out of the blue. While many have come to play the "blame game", as in everything bad has to be somebody's fault, that argument doesn't always hold water. They miss the bigger picture. Sometimes things ---- just ---- happen. And they can be unfortunate or even tragic. Call it God's will -- if you will.
There's no good reason innocent babies should die from various causes while some evil people live to be a ripe old age. But it happens. You can be the safest driver in the world, but still get killed if someone else crashes into you. It wasn't your fault, but you're still dead. People get struck and killed by lightning bolts. What's the chances of that? But it happens. The list is long of weird and tragic occurrences happening to people.
True, there are those that increase their risk of bad tidings for various reasons. If one chooses to live close to an active volcano, or in a trailer park in tornado alley, or on a seismic fault line, or in a place where hurricanes are prevalent, chances are they'll be OK. But if the worst case scenario comes along some day, they knew this going in, but chose to stay there anyway. Stuff might happen.
Then again, where on Earth CAN one live in total safety? One way or the other, there's always going to be a danger, however unforeseen. A plane could crash into your house. Your neighbor's could go up in flames due to his/her carelessness and take yours with it. The odds against it are incredible -- but it happens.
So what does this have to do with sports? A couple things.
We all know #1 golfer in the world Rory McIlroy recented suffered a severe foot injury while playing a little recreational soccer. He's out for the upcoming British Open -- the first such defending champion unable to defend his title since Ben Hogan way back in 1954. The dashing Irish lad may well be on the DL for quite some time. Surely he'll heal up eventually, but whether or not this will have a long term detrimental effect on his golf game is something nobody knows. Let's hope not.
But the blamers came out in full force. Shame on Rory, they chided. He shouldn't take such chances with so much at stake.
To which yours truly replies -- shut up. The dude was running around kicking a ball on grass and suffered a one in a million freak injury. Stuff happens.
When people are world-class at what they do in sports, should we expect them to live in a biosphere when they're away from what they do best? Of course not. It's called having a life. There are also those that say at least Rory wasn't doing something really dangerous like riding a motorcycle or surfing. The same two words. Shut up. If he wants to ride a bike or catch a few waves in his free time, who the hell are they to say he's supposed to be some sort of golfing droid only? For that matter, if he wants to bungee jump, mountain climb, skydive, or get into the Octagon with Serena Williams to see who taps out first, more power to him -- though the latter is not recommended. Ahem.
Yet many sports fans have come to expect superstars to live and breathe whatever they're really good at to the exclusion of all else. This is largely caused by the media in their insatiable quest to rate and rank every jock. They have stats from hell that few understand, or could even care about, and will likely come up with more of them. In their world, it isn't good enough for an athlete to just be world class -- everybody has to have a number. The golf rankings go all the way down into the 200s. Who cares? Show me the leaderboard on the back nine on Sunday in any given tournament. Should it matter if they were partying in Vegas or dancing with the stars instead of playing practice rounds before they teed it up for the tournament?
On the other hand there's the curious case of Jason Pierre-Paul, a defensive end for the NY Giants. JPP recently experienced a "stuff happens" episode. It seems he was playing with fireworks on or about the 4th of July, something went boom, and Jason is now missing a finger. Ouch.
This happened somewhere in southeastern Florida and the authorites are still trying to figure out exactly where. Nonetheless, JPP supposedly had a whole van full of such goodies, all of which are illegal ANYWHERE in Florida.
So let's see. He managed to mangle a hand while dealing with illegal goods. Criminal charges are a definite possibility in the future. If so, Jason will eventually face the wrath of Roger Goodell under the player misconduct clause. The Giants have yanked their $60 million contract offer off the table, because they rightfully don't know if JPP can be the same player he once was after this injury. The Giants had put the franchise player tag on him, but JPP had never signed it. Basically, he's a free agent missing a finger and likely in trouble on a couple different fronts.
Stuff happens indeed when athletes try to have a little innocent fun away from their games. Some unforeseen. But in this case, it was a 26 year old grown man playing with illegal fireworks. Even your average 5 year old knows not to hold them in their hands once the fuse is lit.
There was nothing innocent about it. It was just flat-out stupid.
Indeed it does, sometimes out of the blue. While many have come to play the "blame game", as in everything bad has to be somebody's fault, that argument doesn't always hold water. They miss the bigger picture. Sometimes things ---- just ---- happen. And they can be unfortunate or even tragic. Call it God's will -- if you will.
There's no good reason innocent babies should die from various causes while some evil people live to be a ripe old age. But it happens. You can be the safest driver in the world, but still get killed if someone else crashes into you. It wasn't your fault, but you're still dead. People get struck and killed by lightning bolts. What's the chances of that? But it happens. The list is long of weird and tragic occurrences happening to people.
True, there are those that increase their risk of bad tidings for various reasons. If one chooses to live close to an active volcano, or in a trailer park in tornado alley, or on a seismic fault line, or in a place where hurricanes are prevalent, chances are they'll be OK. But if the worst case scenario comes along some day, they knew this going in, but chose to stay there anyway. Stuff might happen.
Then again, where on Earth CAN one live in total safety? One way or the other, there's always going to be a danger, however unforeseen. A plane could crash into your house. Your neighbor's could go up in flames due to his/her carelessness and take yours with it. The odds against it are incredible -- but it happens.
So what does this have to do with sports? A couple things.
We all know #1 golfer in the world Rory McIlroy recented suffered a severe foot injury while playing a little recreational soccer. He's out for the upcoming British Open -- the first such defending champion unable to defend his title since Ben Hogan way back in 1954. The dashing Irish lad may well be on the DL for quite some time. Surely he'll heal up eventually, but whether or not this will have a long term detrimental effect on his golf game is something nobody knows. Let's hope not.
But the blamers came out in full force. Shame on Rory, they chided. He shouldn't take such chances with so much at stake.
To which yours truly replies -- shut up. The dude was running around kicking a ball on grass and suffered a one in a million freak injury. Stuff happens.
When people are world-class at what they do in sports, should we expect them to live in a biosphere when they're away from what they do best? Of course not. It's called having a life. There are also those that say at least Rory wasn't doing something really dangerous like riding a motorcycle or surfing. The same two words. Shut up. If he wants to ride a bike or catch a few waves in his free time, who the hell are they to say he's supposed to be some sort of golfing droid only? For that matter, if he wants to bungee jump, mountain climb, skydive, or get into the Octagon with Serena Williams to see who taps out first, more power to him -- though the latter is not recommended. Ahem.
Yet many sports fans have come to expect superstars to live and breathe whatever they're really good at to the exclusion of all else. This is largely caused by the media in their insatiable quest to rate and rank every jock. They have stats from hell that few understand, or could even care about, and will likely come up with more of them. In their world, it isn't good enough for an athlete to just be world class -- everybody has to have a number. The golf rankings go all the way down into the 200s. Who cares? Show me the leaderboard on the back nine on Sunday in any given tournament. Should it matter if they were partying in Vegas or dancing with the stars instead of playing practice rounds before they teed it up for the tournament?
On the other hand there's the curious case of Jason Pierre-Paul, a defensive end for the NY Giants. JPP recently experienced a "stuff happens" episode. It seems he was playing with fireworks on or about the 4th of July, something went boom, and Jason is now missing a finger. Ouch.
This happened somewhere in southeastern Florida and the authorites are still trying to figure out exactly where. Nonetheless, JPP supposedly had a whole van full of such goodies, all of which are illegal ANYWHERE in Florida.
So let's see. He managed to mangle a hand while dealing with illegal goods. Criminal charges are a definite possibility in the future. If so, Jason will eventually face the wrath of Roger Goodell under the player misconduct clause. The Giants have yanked their $60 million contract offer off the table, because they rightfully don't know if JPP can be the same player he once was after this injury. The Giants had put the franchise player tag on him, but JPP had never signed it. Basically, he's a free agent missing a finger and likely in trouble on a couple different fronts.
Stuff happens indeed when athletes try to have a little innocent fun away from their games. Some unforeseen. But in this case, it was a 26 year old grown man playing with illegal fireworks. Even your average 5 year old knows not to hold them in their hands once the fuse is lit.
There was nothing innocent about it. It was just flat-out stupid.
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