Nobody would question that Jordan Spieth is one of the best golfers in the world. Still only 23 years old, the young Texan has won his share of tournaments, including a green jacket at the Masters a couple years back.
He was right there for another one in 2016, but totally botched the par three 12th hole, racking up a quadruple bogie seven. It cost him the tournament.
In his opening round this year, he similarly butchered the par five 15th, posting another quadruple bogey nine. That one hole might well cost him the tournament. If he only loses by a stroke or two, just like last year, there it was. Over the course of 72 holes, one five minute bout of apparent brain freeze will have done him in.
The two par fives on the back nine at Augusta National wouldn't appear to look that tough. After all, they're a modest 510 and 530 yards in length -- quite short by PGA major tournament standards. One would think the top players in the world would rain birdies on both of them, if not several eagle 3's along the way.
So far, that hasn't been the case. Those two holes have given the players fits.
Phil Mickelson remains quite the enigma. Now in his forties, Lefty can still play with the best of them when he's on. Mickelson has repeatedly shown he's capable of one miraculous shot after another. He's got the whole bag of tricks.
Alas, a familiar Lefty nemesis has reared its ugly head again at this year's Masters. The 4-foot yips.
See Phil drop in a winding birdie putt from 30 feet. Amazing.
See Phil push a 4-footer wide left.
See Phil nail another long bomb.
See Phil pull a 3-footer wide right.
So far, Leftie has missed a handful of such short putts. Not gimmes, but to have a chance at winning the green jacket, a player has to make more of these than he misses.
He's on the leader board, still in contention by all means, and could pull it off yet. But like Spieth, if Mickelson winds up a stroke or two short when play is done on Sunday, he'll know exactly what did him in as well.
Drilling an occasional long one is both skill and a bit of luck. Gladly take them when they come, yet the odds are highly against it happening very often.
But ya gotta make the short ones.
Those dang yips have haunted Phil for what seems like forever.
Friday, April 7, 2017
Thursday, April 6, 2017
The amazing Golden State Warriors
While it's true the Warrior choked away last year's Finals of the NBA, perhaps it's understandable in hindsight. Already up 3-1 with a chance to put the series to bed at home in Game 5, they found themselves without the services of one Draymond Green. Dear Draymond had finally been rightfully suspended for all those thunderous groin kicks he had delivered to opponents, notably poor Steven Adams -- who may or may not have returned to his usual tenor from the soprano he had been turned into.
The Cleveland Cavaliers would win that game and the momentum turned. Game 6 in Cleveland was no surprise as the Cavs won again. But anything can happen in a Game 7, and the Warriors never did seem to recover from the devastating Game 5 loss. Down they went, best regular season record of all time notwithstanding.
In the off season, Golden State somehow managed to acquire the services of one Kevin Durant, a superstar by any measure. Of course they had to sacrifice a lot of very good "role" players to fit KD into the salary cap structure. If not formidable before, surely they were downright scary now.
Sure enough, even give a couple of head scratching losses -- getting trashed by 20 by the woeful Lakers? -- the Warriors were back on another roll.
And then Durant went down with a knee injury. Many, including yours truly, thought that could spell big trouble for the boys from Oakland. After all, those pesky San Antonio Spurs, a perennial model of excellence themselves, remained quietly nipping at their heels. With KD out of action, it would have surprised few if Coach Pop's boys down in Alamoland overtook the Warriors for the best overall record.
Yet the Spurs have suffered a few strange losses as well, while the Warriors regrouped and went back on another tear -- sans KD.
The upshot in GS has wrapped up home court advantage throughout the playoffs. Is this a guarantee of another championship? No way. They were supposed to cruise to it last year but, as mentioned above, it didn't work out that way.
Still without Durant, the Warriors have rattled off a 13 game winning streak. Their last three regular season games are at home against teams one would think they'd defeat easily. Yet that doesn't matter. Having secured home court, they can rest players to get them ready for the playoffs -- and likely will.
And guess what? Durant's knee owie appears to have healed enough to make him healthy to play, right in time for the playoff run.
It's actually quite a dilemma. How can a guy, despite being their leading scorer and rebounder until he got hurt, improve a team that's won their last 13 in a row and appears to be unbeatable of late?
Then again, what team WOULDN'T want Durant in their line-up? The dude's still a superstar.
Sure, Steph Curry and Klay Thompson remain sharpshooters and Draymond does his usual dirty work while others contribute in their own ways. No one can doubt it's added up to great success.
But how the re-addition of KD to the line-up will affect the "chemistry" remains to be seen. He's going to want the ball a lot, which means others won't get to touch it as much.
This could turn out REALLY good -- or maybe not so good.
And wouldn't it be something if, after all the hype of Durant joining this team, they turned out to be better playing WITHOUT him than WITH him?
Who could have ever imagined that indeed?
Not likely, but not impossible either.
Given they once again have the best record and home court advantage throughout, if the Warriors fall anything short of another championship -- there will be those that start to ask a lot of tough questions about the presence of Kevin Durant.
And good luck answering them if that happens.....
The Cleveland Cavaliers would win that game and the momentum turned. Game 6 in Cleveland was no surprise as the Cavs won again. But anything can happen in a Game 7, and the Warriors never did seem to recover from the devastating Game 5 loss. Down they went, best regular season record of all time notwithstanding.
In the off season, Golden State somehow managed to acquire the services of one Kevin Durant, a superstar by any measure. Of course they had to sacrifice a lot of very good "role" players to fit KD into the salary cap structure. If not formidable before, surely they were downright scary now.
Sure enough, even give a couple of head scratching losses -- getting trashed by 20 by the woeful Lakers? -- the Warriors were back on another roll.
And then Durant went down with a knee injury. Many, including yours truly, thought that could spell big trouble for the boys from Oakland. After all, those pesky San Antonio Spurs, a perennial model of excellence themselves, remained quietly nipping at their heels. With KD out of action, it would have surprised few if Coach Pop's boys down in Alamoland overtook the Warriors for the best overall record.
Yet the Spurs have suffered a few strange losses as well, while the Warriors regrouped and went back on another tear -- sans KD.
The upshot in GS has wrapped up home court advantage throughout the playoffs. Is this a guarantee of another championship? No way. They were supposed to cruise to it last year but, as mentioned above, it didn't work out that way.
Still without Durant, the Warriors have rattled off a 13 game winning streak. Their last three regular season games are at home against teams one would think they'd defeat easily. Yet that doesn't matter. Having secured home court, they can rest players to get them ready for the playoffs -- and likely will.
And guess what? Durant's knee owie appears to have healed enough to make him healthy to play, right in time for the playoff run.
It's actually quite a dilemma. How can a guy, despite being their leading scorer and rebounder until he got hurt, improve a team that's won their last 13 in a row and appears to be unbeatable of late?
Then again, what team WOULDN'T want Durant in their line-up? The dude's still a superstar.
Sure, Steph Curry and Klay Thompson remain sharpshooters and Draymond does his usual dirty work while others contribute in their own ways. No one can doubt it's added up to great success.
But how the re-addition of KD to the line-up will affect the "chemistry" remains to be seen. He's going to want the ball a lot, which means others won't get to touch it as much.
This could turn out REALLY good -- or maybe not so good.
And wouldn't it be something if, after all the hype of Durant joining this team, they turned out to be better playing WITHOUT him than WITH him?
Who could have ever imagined that indeed?
Not likely, but not impossible either.
Given they once again have the best record and home court advantage throughout, if the Warriors fall anything short of another championship -- there will be those that start to ask a lot of tough questions about the presence of Kevin Durant.
And good luck answering them if that happens.....
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
The Masters par 3 contest -- and whining
It was quite a day at the Masters par 3 contest. A whopping nine -- count em -- NINE -- holes-in-one were made. By far the record. Sure, these holes are short by regular standards, typically between 70 and 140 yards but, still, a hole-in-one is a hole-in-one, dammit. In all the years I played golf, I never got one, though I was close a couple times.
Eighty year old Gary Player, the ultimate class act over the decades, managed to knock in an ace. How great was that to see?
On the same hole, both Justin Thomas and Rickie Fowler got holes-in-one on back-to-back swings off the tee. Amazing.
See all the players yukking it up. See the wives and girlfriends having a great time. See the kids and grandkids sporting their spiffy white Augusta uniforms with their hero's name on the back. From five year old to eighty year old, see everybody absolutely joyous. What could be better than that?
The par 3 contest at the Masters is most definitely a feel good occasion for everybody on the course, gallery included, to the viewers at home. Who could not smile at all the pure happiness that was on display?
But things will change dramatically when the real tournament gets underway tomorrow. This is no laughing matter. Serious business and brutal competition will come into play. Everybody wants to win a green jacket.
Thing is, the whining has already started about how tough the conditions may be for the first couple days. Besides the always lightning fast greens, it's supposed to be windy as well.
To which yours truly says -- so what? Who cares what Mother Nature brings? All the contestants have to play the same holes under the same conditions, so what does it matter? Quit with the whining already about how tough it might be.
On a similar note, other than their fragile egos, what difference does it make if the winning player's score is 15 OVER par rather than 15 UNDER?
Ben Hogan once famously remarked he had brought a golf course "to its knees". Well gee, I never knew a golf course HAD knees. But if so, what's so wrong about it fighting back once in a while and bringing players to THEIR knees?
It is what it is. Play it and shut up.
Besides, a little wind can't be that tough. If they wanted to make a golf course REALLY tough, here's a few suggestions ----
Are you tired of seeing the pretty boys routinely torch par 5 holes for eagle 3's? Move the tees back -- a lot. How about one that's 800 yards? Get the Big Berthas out for that one fellows. Let's see you get THERE in 2.
Dogleg, schmogleg. How about a hole or two that requires rappelling down the side of a mountain somewhere between tee and green?
Or a par 3 that's 300 yards -- all carry over a lake. Better yet, the only way to get to the green is by canoe with that same lake well stocked with hungry alligators and hippos shot up with steroids. That would separate the men from the boys, not to mention making the inevitable "cut" a lot easier. Some of the field simply wouldn't be around for the weekend -- or forever more for that matter. Critter food. They'd have to REALLY want that green jacket to "play on".
Now THOSE would be tough conditions.
A little wind is cause for alarm?
They need to shut up, be grateful, and realize how easy they have it.
Things could be worse -- a LOT worse
Eighty year old Gary Player, the ultimate class act over the decades, managed to knock in an ace. How great was that to see?
On the same hole, both Justin Thomas and Rickie Fowler got holes-in-one on back-to-back swings off the tee. Amazing.
See all the players yukking it up. See the wives and girlfriends having a great time. See the kids and grandkids sporting their spiffy white Augusta uniforms with their hero's name on the back. From five year old to eighty year old, see everybody absolutely joyous. What could be better than that?
The par 3 contest at the Masters is most definitely a feel good occasion for everybody on the course, gallery included, to the viewers at home. Who could not smile at all the pure happiness that was on display?
But things will change dramatically when the real tournament gets underway tomorrow. This is no laughing matter. Serious business and brutal competition will come into play. Everybody wants to win a green jacket.
Thing is, the whining has already started about how tough the conditions may be for the first couple days. Besides the always lightning fast greens, it's supposed to be windy as well.
To which yours truly says -- so what? Who cares what Mother Nature brings? All the contestants have to play the same holes under the same conditions, so what does it matter? Quit with the whining already about how tough it might be.
On a similar note, other than their fragile egos, what difference does it make if the winning player's score is 15 OVER par rather than 15 UNDER?
Ben Hogan once famously remarked he had brought a golf course "to its knees". Well gee, I never knew a golf course HAD knees. But if so, what's so wrong about it fighting back once in a while and bringing players to THEIR knees?
It is what it is. Play it and shut up.
Besides, a little wind can't be that tough. If they wanted to make a golf course REALLY tough, here's a few suggestions ----
Are you tired of seeing the pretty boys routinely torch par 5 holes for eagle 3's? Move the tees back -- a lot. How about one that's 800 yards? Get the Big Berthas out for that one fellows. Let's see you get THERE in 2.
Dogleg, schmogleg. How about a hole or two that requires rappelling down the side of a mountain somewhere between tee and green?
Or a par 3 that's 300 yards -- all carry over a lake. Better yet, the only way to get to the green is by canoe with that same lake well stocked with hungry alligators and hippos shot up with steroids. That would separate the men from the boys, not to mention making the inevitable "cut" a lot easier. Some of the field simply wouldn't be around for the weekend -- or forever more for that matter. Critter food. They'd have to REALLY want that green jacket to "play on".
Now THOSE would be tough conditions.
A little wind is cause for alarm?
They need to shut up, be grateful, and realize how easy they have it.
Things could be worse -- a LOT worse
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
Really dumb things in boxing
Boxing and, by extension, the "mixed martial arts" we have seen so much of lately, would appear to be the only sports where nobody has a clue what the score is until it's all over. How dumb is that?
Further, it's been no secret that some "ring-side" judges over the years have gone back and changed their scores for earlier rounds in the fight later on. Only in boxing could this happen. What they saw "live" just minutes before has somehow changed in their minds when the fight is over. Amazing, not to mention a fertile ground for corruption.
It would be like keeping Olympic gymnasts' scores a secret until they're done with all their disciplines, then totaling them up covertly to -- presto -- here's your gold, silver, and bronze medal winners. How do you think that would fly?
Obviously, this sort of shadiness has never been allowed in all other sports. Baseball, football, basketball, hockey, tennis, golf -- you name it -- the viewer always knows EXACTLY what the score is throughout the contest.
So what would seem to be the problem with putting round by round boxing scores up on the scoreboard in the arena and hence able to be seen and known by those watching at home?
Fighters, their corner people, the fans in attendance, announcers, TV viewers, all would know who's ahead or behind, or if it's close. And it would certainly eliminate any pesky judge from changing his/her scorecard later (as if they'd been bought off by one side or the other to influence the outcome -- imagine that). If a guy is trailing by a bunch heading into the final round and needs a knockout to win, so be it. On that note, how many times have we seen matches where we just KNOW one guy has prevailed throughout, only to find out later the other guy -- surprise -- is given the win?
The entire premise has always been ludicrous.
Speaking of other dumb things in boxing -- how about the "ten point must system"? Boxing fans know that requires every ringside judge to award ten points per round to one fighter or the other. It's dumb. If they're both cruising through a round trying to save a little gas for later, why should one of them be awarded ten points? Instead of "must", make it "max". If it was a ho-hum round with little action, what's so terribly wrong with scoring it, say, 3-2, instead of 10-9?
Which brings up another dumb idea in boxing. Even guys that get pummeled and/or knocked down a couple times in a round typically always get awarded at least 8 points. Why should they? If a round was that lop-sided, score it 10-2, or 10-0, whatever. Hey, in other sports an athlete or team doesn't get points just for showing up for the next few minutes of play. They have to earn them. So again, what's the problem?
If a pugilist is getting his brains beat out after three rounds, the score shouldn't be 30-27, but rather 30-0. Good grief, we see shutouts pitched not only in baseball, but football as well. Throw in hockey. No points is no points. Even in tennis we've seen sets won 6-0. They don't give the one taking the pounding a couple games just to be politically correct. It is what it is. A beatdown. Sure, the "beatee" can sometimes come roaring back, even win. But you don't give them charity points along the way if they haven't earned them. It defies logic. Did I mention dumb?
On to more dumbness. The weight classes. Let's use three for examples, namely lightweight, welterweight, and middleweight.
In days of old, lightweights couldn't weigh more than 135 lbs. Welters no more than 147, and middles maxed out at 160.
Of course somebody saw the opportunity (see scam) to make a lot more money. The "junior" and "super" classes were created. These were "tweeners" of those three weight classes. A little too heavy for one, but not quite heavy enough to qualify for the next one, at least competitively. Every pound counts in boxing. Perhaps fair enough, but then the dumb monster raised its ugly head again.
A "super" lightweight weighs the exact same as a "junior" welterweight. A super welter the same as a junior middle. Yet they acted like these were ALL different weight classes. Throw in four or five boxing "associations" with all the pseudo weight classes and there's no end to the potential matches to be arranged. It's the same guys at the same weights, but called different names, while the shysters continue to peddle this nonsense on the public, at exorbitant pay-per-view costs, BTW.
And who is the dumbest of them all?
Those who keep clicking on and ponying up the $59.99, or $79.99 to watch what has become a hopelessly watered down sport for quite some time.
Don't believe that? Quick. Rattle off the lightweight, welterweight and middleweight champions of the world. Betcha can't. There's lot of them, plus their "junior" and "super" brethren.
And in the end, it's just plain dumb.
Couple that with the corruption, collusion, and all-around shadiness long associated with promoters of the sport and their invisible scoring system, and you have a cess pool that even politicians would turn their noses up at. How bad must THAT be?
The dumbest thing is recent years is apparently going to come to pass soon. A bout between former champ Floyd Mayweather and MMA super-star Conor McGregor.
The dumbness of this potential spectacle almost defies imagination.
But more on that later......
Further, it's been no secret that some "ring-side" judges over the years have gone back and changed their scores for earlier rounds in the fight later on. Only in boxing could this happen. What they saw "live" just minutes before has somehow changed in their minds when the fight is over. Amazing, not to mention a fertile ground for corruption.
It would be like keeping Olympic gymnasts' scores a secret until they're done with all their disciplines, then totaling them up covertly to -- presto -- here's your gold, silver, and bronze medal winners. How do you think that would fly?
Obviously, this sort of shadiness has never been allowed in all other sports. Baseball, football, basketball, hockey, tennis, golf -- you name it -- the viewer always knows EXACTLY what the score is throughout the contest.
So what would seem to be the problem with putting round by round boxing scores up on the scoreboard in the arena and hence able to be seen and known by those watching at home?
Fighters, their corner people, the fans in attendance, announcers, TV viewers, all would know who's ahead or behind, or if it's close. And it would certainly eliminate any pesky judge from changing his/her scorecard later (as if they'd been bought off by one side or the other to influence the outcome -- imagine that). If a guy is trailing by a bunch heading into the final round and needs a knockout to win, so be it. On that note, how many times have we seen matches where we just KNOW one guy has prevailed throughout, only to find out later the other guy -- surprise -- is given the win?
The entire premise has always been ludicrous.
Speaking of other dumb things in boxing -- how about the "ten point must system"? Boxing fans know that requires every ringside judge to award ten points per round to one fighter or the other. It's dumb. If they're both cruising through a round trying to save a little gas for later, why should one of them be awarded ten points? Instead of "must", make it "max". If it was a ho-hum round with little action, what's so terribly wrong with scoring it, say, 3-2, instead of 10-9?
Which brings up another dumb idea in boxing. Even guys that get pummeled and/or knocked down a couple times in a round typically always get awarded at least 8 points. Why should they? If a round was that lop-sided, score it 10-2, or 10-0, whatever. Hey, in other sports an athlete or team doesn't get points just for showing up for the next few minutes of play. They have to earn them. So again, what's the problem?
If a pugilist is getting his brains beat out after three rounds, the score shouldn't be 30-27, but rather 30-0. Good grief, we see shutouts pitched not only in baseball, but football as well. Throw in hockey. No points is no points. Even in tennis we've seen sets won 6-0. They don't give the one taking the pounding a couple games just to be politically correct. It is what it is. A beatdown. Sure, the "beatee" can sometimes come roaring back, even win. But you don't give them charity points along the way if they haven't earned them. It defies logic. Did I mention dumb?
On to more dumbness. The weight classes. Let's use three for examples, namely lightweight, welterweight, and middleweight.
In days of old, lightweights couldn't weigh more than 135 lbs. Welters no more than 147, and middles maxed out at 160.
Of course somebody saw the opportunity (see scam) to make a lot more money. The "junior" and "super" classes were created. These were "tweeners" of those three weight classes. A little too heavy for one, but not quite heavy enough to qualify for the next one, at least competitively. Every pound counts in boxing. Perhaps fair enough, but then the dumb monster raised its ugly head again.
A "super" lightweight weighs the exact same as a "junior" welterweight. A super welter the same as a junior middle. Yet they acted like these were ALL different weight classes. Throw in four or five boxing "associations" with all the pseudo weight classes and there's no end to the potential matches to be arranged. It's the same guys at the same weights, but called different names, while the shysters continue to peddle this nonsense on the public, at exorbitant pay-per-view costs, BTW.
And who is the dumbest of them all?
Those who keep clicking on and ponying up the $59.99, or $79.99 to watch what has become a hopelessly watered down sport for quite some time.
Don't believe that? Quick. Rattle off the lightweight, welterweight and middleweight champions of the world. Betcha can't. There's lot of them, plus their "junior" and "super" brethren.
And in the end, it's just plain dumb.
Couple that with the corruption, collusion, and all-around shadiness long associated with promoters of the sport and their invisible scoring system, and you have a cess pool that even politicians would turn their noses up at. How bad must THAT be?
The dumbest thing is recent years is apparently going to come to pass soon. A bout between former champ Floyd Mayweather and MMA super-star Conor McGregor.
The dumbness of this potential spectacle almost defies imagination.
But more on that later......
Monday, April 3, 2017
Carolina/Gonzaga. Early take
As this is written, it is now halftime of the national championship game and Gonzaga leads North Carolina 35-32.
Given his size, height (7' 1"), and combination of power and finesse, the Zags' Przemek Karnowski is a superior player to Carolina's Kennedy Meeks.
And Gonzaga's Nigel Williams-Goss is arguably the best all-around point guard in the nation.
But the Heels have too many board-crashing bigs and a deeper line-up of thoroughbreds.
As much as it would be great to see tiny little Gonzaga of the northwest knock off the behemoth that is always UNC, methinks the Heels will wear them out in the latter stages of the second half to avenge the last-second loss of last year at the hands of Villanova.
We'll see.....
Given his size, height (7' 1"), and combination of power and finesse, the Zags' Przemek Karnowski is a superior player to Carolina's Kennedy Meeks.
And Gonzaga's Nigel Williams-Goss is arguably the best all-around point guard in the nation.
But the Heels have too many board-crashing bigs and a deeper line-up of thoroughbreds.
As much as it would be great to see tiny little Gonzaga of the northwest knock off the behemoth that is always UNC, methinks the Heels will wear them out in the latter stages of the second half to avenge the last-second loss of last year at the hands of Villanova.
We'll see.....
Sunday, April 2, 2017
South Carolina wine/whine
First of all, congrats to the South Carolina Lady Gamecocks (the very name of which would seem to be quite the misnomer) for winning the NCAA women's hoops championship. Maybe they'll celebrate with a little wine somewhere along the way. Shhh. We'll ignore those pesky minor in possession laws in this case. But keep them away from the Mad Dog. We mustn't have them running amok stark naked all around town. That just wouldn't do.
And now a word from our sponsors. Well, one age-old mystery appears to have been solved. A certain fast food franchise that specializes in chicken and features a colonel has finally come clean in their latest barrage of TV ads. Ever wonder why their prices have gone up so dramatically over the years? Turns out, that stuff really IS made out of gold. I KNEW it. Good coleslaw though.
For all the wine the, ahem, Lady Gamecocks may enjoy, their male counterparts, specifically their head coach, has come across with a classic whine of his own.
Enter Frank Martin in a post-game press conference after his team fell to Gonzaga. Poor Frank was all choked up, holding back the tears. This was the same hot-headed, tough talking, referee berating coach we've seen all year in full blown alpha-male mode? Now reduced to a whimpering puddy-tat? Oh my. The poor dear has obviously forgotten what got him and his team to this point.
Going back to when the NCAA tournament began, the South Carolina men's team came in as a #7 seed. Many thought they wouldn't survive their opening round game against #10 Marquette. But they did and quite handily, winning by a whopping 20 points.
Surely they wouldn't beat the always mighty Dukies a couple days later, right? No way are they knocking off a #2 seed, but guess what? They did indeed, by a semi-comfortable 7 points. On to the Sweet Sixteen.
Up next was #3 Baylor. The G-cocks were already living on borrowed time. Da Bears would surely put them in their places. Nope. Carolina rolled by 20 again. Amazing.
On to the regional finals where #4 Florida awaited. C'mon now, this magic carpet ride had gone on long enough. Will somebody please bring these guys back to earth? Not the Gators. They went down by 7 as well, a recurring theme. 20, 7, 20, 7, and all improbable victories for the Gamecocks. Especially the last three.
Holy cow, they made it to the Final Four. A miracle in itself. No WAY were they supposed to get that far. A #7 seed slogging through all those heavyweights? Please.
In the national semis, it certainly didn't get any easier, given #1 seed Gonzaga was waiting. And Carolina gave them a helluva game, nip and tuck, before finally succumbing by a meager four points.
They should be proud of what they accomplished this year, not have their coach get up on the podium and wimp out with a whine like his puppy dog just got ran over.
Frank, Frank, get a grip brother. Millions are watching you. Preps, Trump, Congress, and other children. This is no time to turn into a blubbering sack of weakness. Pound that fist, stick that jaw out, keep a stiff upper lip, and cuss out a reporter just on general principles. Know that for a short time you and your team were the few, the proud, the chosen, the CORPS dammit, not the corpse. Like whine and wine, there's a big difference. Needless to say this is not good for future morale. Nobody wants to see a drill sergeant turn into a Richard Simmons right before their eyes on TV. What would your potential high school recruits think of such a sorry spectacle?
But if all else fails, give the dude a gallon of Mad Dog. In a couple hours he'll be out of his mind and not know what he's doing either. Or care -- at all. No more sad tears. He'll be tearing something up somewhere.
Or he could have a sip of bubbly with Dawn Staley, coach of the women's team. Perhaps that would be a bit more appropriate.
Either way, South Carolina hoops seems to have got caught up in one form of wining/whining or another.
And now a word from our sponsors. Well, one age-old mystery appears to have been solved. A certain fast food franchise that specializes in chicken and features a colonel has finally come clean in their latest barrage of TV ads. Ever wonder why their prices have gone up so dramatically over the years? Turns out, that stuff really IS made out of gold. I KNEW it. Good coleslaw though.
For all the wine the, ahem, Lady Gamecocks may enjoy, their male counterparts, specifically their head coach, has come across with a classic whine of his own.
Enter Frank Martin in a post-game press conference after his team fell to Gonzaga. Poor Frank was all choked up, holding back the tears. This was the same hot-headed, tough talking, referee berating coach we've seen all year in full blown alpha-male mode? Now reduced to a whimpering puddy-tat? Oh my. The poor dear has obviously forgotten what got him and his team to this point.
Going back to when the NCAA tournament began, the South Carolina men's team came in as a #7 seed. Many thought they wouldn't survive their opening round game against #10 Marquette. But they did and quite handily, winning by a whopping 20 points.
Surely they wouldn't beat the always mighty Dukies a couple days later, right? No way are they knocking off a #2 seed, but guess what? They did indeed, by a semi-comfortable 7 points. On to the Sweet Sixteen.
Up next was #3 Baylor. The G-cocks were already living on borrowed time. Da Bears would surely put them in their places. Nope. Carolina rolled by 20 again. Amazing.
On to the regional finals where #4 Florida awaited. C'mon now, this magic carpet ride had gone on long enough. Will somebody please bring these guys back to earth? Not the Gators. They went down by 7 as well, a recurring theme. 20, 7, 20, 7, and all improbable victories for the Gamecocks. Especially the last three.
Holy cow, they made it to the Final Four. A miracle in itself. No WAY were they supposed to get that far. A #7 seed slogging through all those heavyweights? Please.
In the national semis, it certainly didn't get any easier, given #1 seed Gonzaga was waiting. And Carolina gave them a helluva game, nip and tuck, before finally succumbing by a meager four points.
They should be proud of what they accomplished this year, not have their coach get up on the podium and wimp out with a whine like his puppy dog just got ran over.
Frank, Frank, get a grip brother. Millions are watching you. Preps, Trump, Congress, and other children. This is no time to turn into a blubbering sack of weakness. Pound that fist, stick that jaw out, keep a stiff upper lip, and cuss out a reporter just on general principles. Know that for a short time you and your team were the few, the proud, the chosen, the CORPS dammit, not the corpse. Like whine and wine, there's a big difference. Needless to say this is not good for future morale. Nobody wants to see a drill sergeant turn into a Richard Simmons right before their eyes on TV. What would your potential high school recruits think of such a sorry spectacle?
But if all else fails, give the dude a gallon of Mad Dog. In a couple hours he'll be out of his mind and not know what he's doing either. Or care -- at all. No more sad tears. He'll be tearing something up somewhere.
Or he could have a sip of bubbly with Dawn Staley, coach of the women's team. Perhaps that would be a bit more appropriate.
Either way, South Carolina hoops seems to have got caught up in one form of wining/whining or another.
Saturday, April 1, 2017
Those lovable Detroit homers
Earlier today, yours truly noticed a headline in the sports section of a Detroit area newspaper. It read (Detroit) Pistons fall to "lowly" (Milwaukee) Bucks. Well, let's see.
At last look, those lowly Bucks had been playing some pretty decent roundball of late. They currently sit in the middle of the NBA's eastern conference playoff field and might win a series or two before they're eliminated. Chances of a championship? Zero.
They're also 5-6 games ahead of the floundering Pistons, who have nose-dived out of playoff contention and seem to be getting worse by the day. Chances of a championship? Sub-zero. Brrr, and getting colder.
Milwaukee remains the main headquarters of Harley-Davidson and still pumps out a ton of beer. These are good things.
In their infinite wisdom, the people of Detroit would likely re-elect their former mayor, one Kwame Kilpatrick, if he could ever find a way out of that pesky 20+ year federal prison sentence on a variety of corruption charges he's currently serving. This is not such a good thing.
So who is "lowly" indeed here?
Incredibly, the Detroit Red Wings and their boosters still insist on calling the Big D of the North "Hockeytown". It remains painted on the ice at the soon to be shuttered Joe Louis Arena, home of the team. Why a professional hockey franchise in Detroit ever named their arena after an illiterate boxer from Alabama, that wound up punch drunk and broke, would seem to be a good question. But it's Detroit, after all. Go figure.
Though not along ago a force in the NHL, including winning a few Stanley Cups, the Red Wings have been living on the proverbial "borrowed time" in recent years. True, they kept their making the playoffs streak alive (until this year), but it meant little because fully half the teams in the league qualify for the post-season. You have to be pretty bad NOT to make it. But the Wings were also routinely blasted out of those same playoffs early on. They had basically been living in a form of purgatory. Not good enough to seriously contend, but not bad enough to get themselves into a position to draft a difference making young talent as we've seen other teams do of late.
Finally, they went into long-overdue "sell" mode and got rid of most of their half-way decent players. Few would doubt the "rebuild" is going to take a while. Already a bottom-feeder, the short term prognosis for the Red Wings in the next few years likely resembles that of the Titanic, post ice-berg. In other words -- not pretty.
How in the world the Detroit homers can still refer to their digs as "Hockeytown" is astonishing. These people are obviously delirious.
Have they not noticed in recent years that quality free agents from other teams have turned down MORE money offered by Detroit and would rather play elsewhere for less? "Anyplace but Detroit" would seem to be their line of reasoning. Definitely not a good sign for Motown, or what's left of it. Most of the auto companies bailed long ago.
Finally, just yesterday both these teams found a way to bring even more ridicule raining down on their weary incompetent heads.
A Red Wing got into a fight on the ice. OK, that happens in the NHL. But this guy not only got pummeled and taken to the ice by his opponent (see ass-whupping), he managed to break one of his own fingers in the process sidelining him for the rest of the season.
And the, ahem, not so "lowly" Pistons had a player pulled over for drunk driving and thrown into the slammer. A multi-millionaire that doesn't have the sense to call a cab, or is too cheap to hire a driver, even without a limo. What could that cost a year to have somebody drive his own car when he wants to go out and get loaded? Fifty grand tops? Lots of guys and/or gals would jump at that sort of gig. Chump change for a guy knocking down the big bucks HE is, but no, he just had to get behind the wheel. Idiot.
Of course, the NFL draft will roll around soon, and the Detroit Lions faithful will crow about what a killing they made. It happens every year. Maybe they'll even get a pick that can -- gasp -- start -- on a team with glaring needs everywhere to begin with. Imagine that. And they wind up going nowhere -- every year. But dammit, this is the one, they'll claim. Right.
Ah yes, just another day and season in the magical world of Detroit sports. The legendary Mr. T once likely put it best. You just have to -- "pity the fools".
Homers are like that.
The poor souls haven't a clue.
And likely never will.
Alas.
At last look, those lowly Bucks had been playing some pretty decent roundball of late. They currently sit in the middle of the NBA's eastern conference playoff field and might win a series or two before they're eliminated. Chances of a championship? Zero.
They're also 5-6 games ahead of the floundering Pistons, who have nose-dived out of playoff contention and seem to be getting worse by the day. Chances of a championship? Sub-zero. Brrr, and getting colder.
Milwaukee remains the main headquarters of Harley-Davidson and still pumps out a ton of beer. These are good things.
In their infinite wisdom, the people of Detroit would likely re-elect their former mayor, one Kwame Kilpatrick, if he could ever find a way out of that pesky 20+ year federal prison sentence on a variety of corruption charges he's currently serving. This is not such a good thing.
So who is "lowly" indeed here?
Incredibly, the Detroit Red Wings and their boosters still insist on calling the Big D of the North "Hockeytown". It remains painted on the ice at the soon to be shuttered Joe Louis Arena, home of the team. Why a professional hockey franchise in Detroit ever named their arena after an illiterate boxer from Alabama, that wound up punch drunk and broke, would seem to be a good question. But it's Detroit, after all. Go figure.
Though not along ago a force in the NHL, including winning a few Stanley Cups, the Red Wings have been living on the proverbial "borrowed time" in recent years. True, they kept their making the playoffs streak alive (until this year), but it meant little because fully half the teams in the league qualify for the post-season. You have to be pretty bad NOT to make it. But the Wings were also routinely blasted out of those same playoffs early on. They had basically been living in a form of purgatory. Not good enough to seriously contend, but not bad enough to get themselves into a position to draft a difference making young talent as we've seen other teams do of late.
Finally, they went into long-overdue "sell" mode and got rid of most of their half-way decent players. Few would doubt the "rebuild" is going to take a while. Already a bottom-feeder, the short term prognosis for the Red Wings in the next few years likely resembles that of the Titanic, post ice-berg. In other words -- not pretty.
How in the world the Detroit homers can still refer to their digs as "Hockeytown" is astonishing. These people are obviously delirious.
Have they not noticed in recent years that quality free agents from other teams have turned down MORE money offered by Detroit and would rather play elsewhere for less? "Anyplace but Detroit" would seem to be their line of reasoning. Definitely not a good sign for Motown, or what's left of it. Most of the auto companies bailed long ago.
Finally, just yesterday both these teams found a way to bring even more ridicule raining down on their weary incompetent heads.
A Red Wing got into a fight on the ice. OK, that happens in the NHL. But this guy not only got pummeled and taken to the ice by his opponent (see ass-whupping), he managed to break one of his own fingers in the process sidelining him for the rest of the season.
And the, ahem, not so "lowly" Pistons had a player pulled over for drunk driving and thrown into the slammer. A multi-millionaire that doesn't have the sense to call a cab, or is too cheap to hire a driver, even without a limo. What could that cost a year to have somebody drive his own car when he wants to go out and get loaded? Fifty grand tops? Lots of guys and/or gals would jump at that sort of gig. Chump change for a guy knocking down the big bucks HE is, but no, he just had to get behind the wheel. Idiot.
Of course, the NFL draft will roll around soon, and the Detroit Lions faithful will crow about what a killing they made. It happens every year. Maybe they'll even get a pick that can -- gasp -- start -- on a team with glaring needs everywhere to begin with. Imagine that. And they wind up going nowhere -- every year. But dammit, this is the one, they'll claim. Right.
Ah yes, just another day and season in the magical world of Detroit sports. The legendary Mr. T once likely put it best. You just have to -- "pity the fools".
Homers are like that.
The poor souls haven't a clue.
And likely never will.
Alas.
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