NWA Ain't Tha One

No, no, not that NWA, this NWA. I found out firsthand today that Northwest Airlines made good on their word to broom Carmelo Anthony. On my flight today from Baltimore to Detroit, no copies of December's "WorldTraveler" magazine featuring Melo on the cover were available. I asked the stewardess for one and she informed me that was not an option. I should have asked if she knew why, but I let it go.

With all of the travel that I have done over the past several months for work, the ONLY time that I have even opened an in-flight magazine (on any airline) was two weeks ago when I noticed Melo on the "WorldTraveler" cover.

Da Big Picture

Ok, I’m going to say something heretical. Kevin Garnett is beginning to annoy me. When asked about the fact that his Minnesota Timberwolves didn’t get the Answer, he said “that’s pretty much how it goes around here. I’ve learned not to put too much belief and hope in things until they’re concrete and done.” He added that “it would have been a very, very nice Christmas present.”

With the caveat that all I get are quotes selected and edited by journalists, it sounds like bad leadership. And kvetching. Perhaps KG’s effort to get Iverson in black and green and aquamarine made some sense, but now? How does it motivate your teammates to keep rubbing it in their faces that you’d rather be suiting up with other players? Shouldn’t he have said “we’re going to win with the guys we have, blah blah blah”?

I don’t mean to turn this into a KG blog, and he’s one of my favorite players, and I can understand his frustrations, and I’d take him on my team eight days a week, and maybe I was just using this as an excuse to run that funny picture again, and he’s certainly handling his circumstances better than some other players (and many people) would, but it just rubbed me the wrong way.

Yet I'm feeling kind of grinchy, so I'd like to link this story of how sports (and rich basketball players) can make people feel good. I know KG does a lot of good deeds too, which I commend him for. Peace, love, and rainbow threes to everyone.

Oh, THAT Joe Smith

Well AI finally got traded. I don't really care about where he ended up, I am just interested to see how it will work out, how he responds, how Melo responds, how George Karl responds, etc... I am a huge AI fan, so as a Pistons fan I am VERY glad that he did not end up in Miami. Denver is a pretty neutral ground, all things considered.

The only other thing worth commenting on - until this is all entirely official, is that I actually had to look and make sure that it was THAT Joe Smith mentioned in the trade. It is indeed one and the same. It is a very common name, so you never know. Wild.

The fight between members of the Knicks and the Nuggets Friday night was a bad thing for this simple reason: people (note I didn't write kids) look up to and emulate NBA players. Charles Barkley may be right that he shouldn't be a role model, yet he's wrong that he isn't one.

But I read this quote from Jermaine O'Neal, the Malice in the Palace veteran, with interest: "Listen, the NHL lets them fight. Fights happen in baseball. Fights happen in football. Why are we under scrutiny about our game?" His not so subtle message is that it's a bigger deal because the participants are young black men who look like they're from a hip hop culture.

O'Neal said something similar when the NBA implemented a minimum age requirement for the draft: "as a black guy, you kind of think that's the reason why it's coming up. You don't hear about it in baseball or hockey."

Now, I think there is one obvious reason why fights are different in basketball -- the crowd gets in harm's way. If you look back, fights in baseball that have involved fans have been treated more seriously than even bench clearing brawls that stay between players.

But O'Neal's point is worth thinking about.

Similarly, the NBA has over 1200 games a year. If you went to 1200 rec league games, do you really think you'd see zero fights? What about intramural games at top 25 universities? I'm not an apologist for the fight, and the public significance of the NBA mandates a high level of behavior. But it's important to keep in mind exactly what we're asking from the NBA players, and what we think of them.

That Was the "Cobra" / "Over the Top" Era

Overheard today at BWI airport while passing through security...

Female security employee A says to female employee B:

"Give me a 40 year old Sylvester Stallone any day. All day."

B nods in very obvious agreement.

If at all possible, I will go see "Rocky Balboa" on Christmas day, I can't help myself. I see that imdb.com lists among the cast - Mike Tyson "As himself" - interesting.

Also of note: "Rambo IV: Pearl of the Cobra" is in pre-production. Wow. Somebody is going to pick a fight with John Rambo, and they are going to wish they hadn't.

I am being completely serious here, if I could "sequelize" 5 Stallone movies where he would pick up in his character's life in the present day (Just like with Rocky and Rambo), and those movies would make very compelling films, they would be:

Victory, Rhinestone, Over the Top, Cliffhanger, Cop Land

Seriously, wouldn't you love to know what each one of those guys is up to? Who wouldn't want Robert Hatch coaching our World Cup team? He could still be alive! Nick Martinelli could be a washed up Nashville novelty who stumbles upon his Nick Martinelli for one last shot at redemption. I would basically camp out for "Rhinestone II."

Jock Jams

On Monday, Deadspin linked to this piece in the Dayton Daily News, where current Cincinnati Bengals players went over their holiday wish lists. The money quote shows up at #1 for Bengals QB Carson Palmer:

"1. The new Kevin Federline CD, Playing with Fire."

It seems that Carson wasn't making a funny and that he really meant that he wants Ocho Cinco to shell out and put this underneath his Christmas tree. As always, there is no accounting for taste (good or bad), and to each his own.

In a roundabout way, this leads me to the top question that I have always wanted to ask of any musician who ever played some form of competitive sports: "What was your top #1 song or record to pump yourself up in the locker room, or while getting ready at home before the big game?"

Bob Pollard has long been my target demographic for this question (and according to several of my friends, a target of far too much of my affection over the years), and although his impressive sports pedigree is quite well known (among obsessive fans at least), it does not seem to be discussed too much in interviews. He threw a no-hitter in college. Can still torch the nets. His brother Jimmy (an early GBV contributor) played hoops at Arizona State and is an Ohio high school legend. I would love to know what Bob was rocking before he took the mound for the Wright State Raiders.

I would even love to know what a young Rod Stewart would cue up before he took to the pitch. Josh Homme? S. Malkmus? Master P? Did Karen O play field hockey? I demand satisfaction!

Da Slim Ticket

My in-laws were in town for a wedding this weekend, and we were eating overpriced but delicious eggs at their tres swanky hotel when someone said "look how tall those guys are." I glanced over and saw the unmistakable visage of KG. First of all, Da Kid looks like exactly that. He's built like a gangly, skinny teenager. Well, except for the goatee and the ripped muscles. But in a long sleeve t-shirt, he resembled the proverbial string bean (from a Jack and the Beanstock sized plant, of course).

Thinking about LYF's recent post about recognizable team owners, I decided that KG is the most distinctive looking athlete in the world. You could scour employees at the GAP and find ten dopplegangers of Kirk Hinrich or Ben Gordon, but try finding another 7 foot guy with a 2 foot neck and a 10 inch forehead. He's the Shelley Duvall of athletes.

Heap Heap Hooray!

I have been working in Baltimore for the past month or so, and should be here through mid-January. Great town, reminds me a lot of Detroit (the good and the bad), and the weather has been terrific in December.

As an addict of "The Wire" I found and went to this place the first week that I was here. Incredible. I also watched "Diner" a couple of times my first week here, something that I do about once every two months anyways.

One thing that is crystal clear to me at this point: Baltimoreans LOVE their Ravens. Big time. And why not? Memories of the Super Bowl win are still fresh, they have had a few very lean years, and now they are on fire with a better and more likable QB. Apparently though, the true star of the team - using game jersey sightings as the sole indicator - is Todd Heap. I would put his number 86 at a 5:1 ratio in the general population around town. I had no idea that he was so popular outside of Fantasy Football Leagues. He is never in the papers for doing anything off the field, and seems to go about taking care of his business. Perhaps that's the appeal. The Bunny Colvin of Raven football?

This brings me to the ultimate indicator of Heap Mania (Heapheads? Heaps Peeps?): last night I went to go see The Ex and DJ Rupture at a place called Ottobar. Very heavy hipster/indie rock scene, which is pretty much what I was expecting. (Broad generalization: dudes in Baltimore [who would go to a show like this] look like either this guy or Max Perlich [circa "Drugstore Cowboy"].)

There was a dude there (Paul Bunyan model) in a Todd Heap jersey! AWESOME! Standing next to a girl who very unironically climbed right out of this picture.

Huzzah Baltimore, I am all for it. Celebrate diversity, embrace your football team (you lucky bastards) and old timey women's hats and flapper fashions, and please start your rock shows earlier on Monday nights. Please.

Side note: I parked my car in the "secure lot" directly next to the venue. The lot attendant got out of her car and walked over to me just as a very inconspicuous looking youngster walked by us. The attendant gave me a weird "quiet" sign, which was very confusing. Once we were alone, she explained to me that she doesn't like to talk while anyone but a customer is around because if "they knew that she was collecting money, she'd get robbed every night. That's why the sign just says 'Park Here' and not 'Parking $5.'" Wild. It seemed like a fine neighborhood, but I'll take her word for it.

Joe Table Set In Detroit

In news that I can best (and most politely) describe as head-scratching, espn.com reports that the Tigers have inked 40 year old 18 year veteran Jose Mesa to a 1 year, $2.5 milllion deal.

Somewhere, Dmitri Young is scratching his head and pondering what "bad character guy" really must mean. Obviously Jamie Walker needed to be replaced, but this one shall remain a mystery to me.

We Would Guess That Nash Skews To "Jem"

Today's New York Times has a nice little profile on The Matrix and his affinity for cartoons. Aside from his general niceness, he apparently has quite a collection of DVDs. A note on his top pick:

“ThunderCats” is Marion’s favorite. He bought Season 2, Volume 2 on DVD last week. He is fond of one of the show’s main characters, Cheetara, whose special powers include running fast (she has been clocked at 120 miles an hour) and spinning fast to see past events. Marion likes her for another reason. “She’s hot,” he said.

I am not going to argue with that. Air tight. Any chance that Dirk fancies the Baroness?

Currently Reading

A bit behind schedule, but I am finally reading The Best American Short Stories - 2005. The first story in the anthology is "The Smile on Happy Chang's Face" by Tom Perrotta, and it can be read here in its entirety. Great story, with a Little League championship game as the backdrop. In the "Contributors' Notes" section of the anthology, Perrotta writes, "...it was a pleasure to describe a baseball game in minute detail, from the perspective of a troubled umpire...." He nails it, and I absolutely love the opening line:

"The Superior Wallcoverings Wildcats were playing in the Little League championship game, and I wanted them to lose."

The stories are well selected, and I buy this collection every year. It makes a perfect travel companion / gradual bathroom read (a high compliment coming from me). My favorite story in the 2005 edition is the incredible "Until Gwen" by Dennis Lehane, who wrote Mystic River, among other novels. The opener to this one is as good as I have seen in a long, long time:

"Your father picks you up from prison in a stolen Dodge Neon, with an 8-ball of coke in the glove compartment and a hooker named Mandy in the back seat."

It just gets better from there.

My Favorite Player Has No Swagger

vs.

I want to spend one day reading the sports sections and websites without seeing the word swagger. Please? Is that possible? It’s like in Being John Malkovich, when the characters can only say one word: “Malkovich, Malkovich, Malkovich.” We’ve all walked though some secret portal into the realm of Being Mr. Swagger. “Swagger, Swagger.” “Swagger?” “Swagger!”

“I don't know where our swagger has gone,” Redskins cornerback Shawn Springs said recently, about his team’s losing ways. “But we obviously don't have a swagger.” Obviously. Look, the last thing two and three hundred pound guys wearing tights need is a swagger. Does Springs really think the Colts score more points than the Redskins because Peyton Manning walks with more of a strut than Mark Brunell?

Here’s how the venerable Oxford English Dictionary defines the term: “To behave with an air of superiority, in a blustering, insolent, or defiant manner; now esp. to walk or carry oneself as if among inferiors, with an obtrusively superior or insolent air.” An online dictionary provided the following definition: “To walk or conduct oneself with an insolent or arrogant air.”

I understand why people think confidence is important. Sure, you’re going to win more games if you start those games believing you’re going to win them. And yes, you don’t want anybody on your team backing down from a challenge.

But can’t you be and do those things without blustery insolence or obtrusive superiority? I’ve seen enough of those things to last a lifetime.

Nate McMillian, head coach of the Portland Trailblazers, recently told a Sports Illustrated writer about his efforts to help his players shed the team’s “Jailblazer” image: “Be proud of who you are and who you play for, because we’re not that team from the past. You walk out there with a swagger.”

What? From my distant vantage point, McMillan seems like a fine person and a good coach. But I don’t remember Mr. Sonic swaggering in those short shorts he wore in the 80’s or anytime throughout his career. I remember him walking tall and proud and not backing down even when he seemed overmatched talent-wise.

It’s not just sports. This headline appeared last year in the Washington Post: “President Struggles to Regain his Pre-Hurricane Swagger.” Of all the things the President should have been worried about, losing his swagger was way down on the list. But it’s the fault of sports here. We started it and kept repeating it over and over until it was so common we couldn’t even see it anymore.

That’s why Chris Paul is my new favorite player. (Steve Nash -- who no doubt knows all about five pin bowling -- is on a separate level from everyone else.)

In a recent interview with ESPN’s Marc Stein, Chris Paul called David West and Peja Stojakovic his team’s “two best players.” He’s probably the only person not related to those two fine Hornets to think so.

When Stein asked him if Deron Williams (drafted one slot before him two years ago) was “catching up” to Paul, the reigning Rookie of the Year said “Catching up to me? I’ve got to catch up to him. They started 11-1, 12-1. I don’t think he’s trying to catch me.”

Take a look at that quote. Paul didn’t use a typical athlete cop out like “I don’t compare myself to other players.” And he didn’t show his “swagger” and puff out his chest. He highlighted how well Williams’s team was doing. Now, I guarantee you that the next time the Hornets play the Jazz, Paul is going to give Williams everything he can handle. Every game Paul plays, he gives his team a chance to win. He immediately turned a laughing-stock franchise into an exciting young team that cities are fighting over.

I remember watching Paul play for Wake Forest in a classic NCAA Tournament game against West Virginia. The Mountaineers were throwing wave after wave at the Demon Deacons, every player on their team hitting shot after shot. And every time, Paul struck back with a three-pointer or a drive to the bucket. The teams went back and forth, and it seemed like the game could on forever. And you hoped it would. Then Paul fouled out — you knew it was over. He was the difference; with him in there, the team found a way. Without him, there was no chance.

Even though he doesn’t swagger, I think everyone out there would take Chris Paul on their team.

I hope other players begin losing their swagger too. Or at the very least, can we agree to stop talking about it? For a week? Please?

(ps This post is by EZRollah but is under LYF's line for technical reasons).

Where Are They Now: Chris Herren

I have no idea what made me think of Chris Herren today. None at all. I followed his career as a bit of a curiosity, never as all that much of a fan. The book Fall River Dreams which chronicles his mercurial senior year in high school is supposedly an interesting read, although I have never picked it up. Apparently he is not the most sympathetic character in the book, and that didn't change in the years that followed his high school escapades. He was just one of those players that I inexplicably pulled for and wanted to see achieve professional success.

One thing that always drew me to him was his similar career arc to one of my all time favorite college players - Scott Skiles.

• Small town kid with incredible talent
• Carried the hopes of the locals on to the court
• Played with a chip on his shoulder
• Battled with off court troubles
• Injuries derailed what could have been a more steallar pro career

Where Skiles put the past behind him and has remained a part of the League, Herren never quite seemed to turn the corner. He never manifested Skiles' win at all costs persona on the court, I suppose that just wasn't him. (My favorite Skiles anecdote is that he famously told Antoine "The Judge" Joubert before his final UM / MSU game that "You can't check me, fat boy.") Perhaps the most memorable thing that Herren was a part of was the legendary Fox Sports special on the Fresno State Bulldogs during his senior season.

The last I heard of him - and the last update of any kind that I can find online - was when he crashed his car into a Dunkin' Donuts two years ago and was charged with possession. He played a couple of NBA seasons and spent some time in European leagues, but I really can not find anything following that car crash.

That is why I find the current content at chrisherren.com to be so interesting, and quite frankly a bit poignant. For a few years that site was a poorly maintained "fan site" with nothing more than a few pictures and career notes. I hadn't checked it in a long long time, and I have no idea if it is still associated with CH or if there is an artist or someone else with the same name and the site just happened to change hands.

The lone caged bird image at the top of this post is the only content on the site. A sentimental fan leaving a message on the current state of affairs? Who knows, but it is mysterious and at least as intriguing as Herren's career.

We Think He Ordered The Tuna

On Saturday night I was fortunate enough to dine at Le Cirque in New York City. This is a far cry from how I usually roll, but I was delighted to have the opportunity and motivation to shine my shoes and don the Required Jacket.

Dinner was excellent, and the service was surprisingly cordial and lighthearted. However, the evening's highlight was not the seared foie gras on tuna tartare, but rather the seating of Jerry Jones at the table next to me and Mrs. Fan. I was unusually excited by his presence as I am certainly not a Cowboys fan, and not a really big NFL guy. He was there with his wife and another couple, appeared to be very gracious, and eager to dine (and why not?). He pretty much fit the evening's general demographic to a tee, but presumably skewed the average bottom line a bit.

I believe that my enthusiasm over this sighting boils down to this: there are about 125 teams in our 4 major sports, and discounting owners of multiple clubs, I will guess that there are about 115 distinct owners. A very exclusive club. Of those 115, here are the ones that I could instantly recognize in a crowded restaurant, like I did with JJ:

• Mike Illitch
• Mark Cuban
• Al Davis
• George Steinbrenner

That really might be it. I'd like to think that I would be able to pick out a Maloof brother, Bill Davidson, Daniel Snyder, or a few others, but I really don't think that they would click. No real point here, just that it was fun to spot this rare beast in the wild, and quite unlikely that I will ever dine in such proximity to one ever again. Unless the Fords start expanding their horizons...