Where Have You Gone Johnny Vander Meer?

The last time a Major League pitcher threw a no-hitter Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston were happily married, Aniston’s sitcom Friends was still on the air and both Tom Cruise and Dave Chappelle were thought to be sane, rational men. It was May 18, 2004 when Randy Johnson threw the 17^th perfect game in baseball history. In the two-plus years since then, there have been zero no-hitters thrown; the longest such drought since World War II.
No-hitters weren’t exactly flowing before Johnson’s perfect game either. Including Unit’s, there have only been three no-hitters thrown in the past four-and-a-half seasons. Derek Lowe pitched a no-no at Fenway in 2002, Kevin Millwood did it the next year in Philly and Johnson followed it up in ’04 against the Braves. (The Astros had a record six pitchers combine for a no-hitter against the Yankees in ’04 as well, but I’m not counting that for the sake of this discussion.) The three no-nos since the beginning of the 2002 season is the worst stretch since 1931-1938, a run that was ended by Johnny Vander Meers back-to-back no-hitters in the summer of 1938. In a span of 120 hours that year, Vander Meer pitched as many no-hitters as the Majors has seen in the last 1,160 days. This historic drought begs the question, is the no-hitter dead?
With increased emphasis on pitch counts and specialty relievers, the no-hitter isn’t dead, but it’s unlikely we’ll ever see a year like 1990 when seven no-nos were thrown by Major League pitchers. Just 20 years ago, Bert Blyleven led the League with 24 complete games. Last season, Chris Carpenter and Dontrelle Willis topped the Majors with seven. Perhaps pitchers have become used to 100 pitch, seven-inning outings and simply can’t muster the stamina to keep a no-no going into the late innings. Or maybe steroids and HGH have made making it through a game unscathed impossible. (Some will argue that pitchers are taking performance-enhancers too, but no amount of doping can make a changeup more effective.) It could just be that we're in a rut and the no-hitter will flourish in the coming years.
No-hitters are fluky things. Aside from Johnson’s 13 K perfecto, the best pitched game of the past 10 years didn’t involve a no-hitter. Kerry Wood gave up a cheap infield hit during his 20 strikeout, no walk performance in 1998. Compare that to Bud Smith (who?), the Cards pitcher who gave up four walks in his 2001 no-no and was bailed out by Jim Edmonds and Placido Polanco during the contest. Smith surely had good stuff that night, but his no-hitter was a combination of a well-pitched game, timely defense and a tremendous amoung of good luck.
Just because pitchers aren’t throwing no-hitters doesn’t necessarily mean today’s pitchers are inferior to ones ten years ago. It could just be that they haven’t been as lucky. Or it could all just be Sal Fasano's fault.

* I guess this confirms, once and for all, that Lance Armstrong was doping too… Right?

* Johnny Damon can’t throw the ball as far as Coco Crisp ran last night to snare David Wright’s would-be game-tying double. Unless Paul O’Neill catches a fly ball in his hat, Crisp’s catch will be the best play you’ll see all year.

* After seeing the best catch of the year, here's the dumbest thing you'll read all year: A truly terrible column about why diving makes soccer great. How soccer players can consider themselves men after writhing around on the ground like pansies after getting kicked in the shin guard is beyond me. The only thing that baffles me more than the terrible acting is how people can actually defend the practice of diving.

2006 NBA Draft Review

Does anybody else think Isiah Thomas is secretly a maniacal super-genius? Oh, sure, we rip Isiah for running the CBA into the ground, handing over two first-round draft picks and key cap room for a lazy player with a heart defect (and then gave him a huge contract to boot), signing and trading for three me-first guards and sticking them on the floor at the same time, running a Hall of Fame coach known for reclamation projects out of town despite the fact he was owed $30 million and, last night, drafting a guy in the first-round who averaged 9.6 points per game for a team that didn't make the NCAA Tournament, but let's get down to brass tacks here.
After the countless debacles Isiah has presided over in his post-player life, the Hall of Fame guard is now looked at with a combination of pity and bloodthirst across the game. NBA GMs all look to New York as a dump for their unwieldy contracts and as a breeding ground for high draft picks at little cost. Agents also love Isiah. After all, some lucky putz got 10% of Jerome James' contract.
Everybody thinks they can take advantage of Isiah and, surely, every day he gets a call offering Keith Van Horn and his $15 million contract for Channing Frye and David Lee. But did you ever think that maybe this is exactly where Isiah wants to be? That this was all part of Isiah's master-plan to rule the Eastern Division, NBA and, ultimately, the world?
There is no greater weapon than an underestimated man (except maybe that huge shoulder-cannon Arnold had in Terminator 2, that weapon was just plain sick). And because everybody expects to rip-off Isiah and the Knicks, one day Isiah will lull a GM into thinking he is stealing from Isiah when, in fact, said GM's guard has been lowered because of the supposedly imbecilic colleague he's working with. At this point, Isiah will orchestrate a massive six-team deal that nets him Dwight Howard, Greg Oden and the rights to LeBron's first three male children in exchange for Steve Francis, Jalen Rose, Eddy Curry, Jerome James, Stephon Marbury, Mo Taylor, Malik Rose and the remaining money owed to Larry Brown. If Isiah's really on his A-game, he might even get that new arena over the railroad yard on the west side.
Becaues the other GMs will automatically assume that they're pulling a fast one on Isiah because, simply, he's Isiah, they'll fail to realize that the fleecer has become the fleecee.
It's all part of Isiah's plan to establish his own stupidity for thirteen years in order to make one league-altering trade in the future. It's so diabolical, yet so simple.
I love you, Isiah.

Picks I Liked
#3 - Charlotte - Adam Morrison (Gonzaga)
Because he'll cry when he damn well pleases!

#6 - Portland (via trade) - Brandon Roy - (Washington)
I don't know what Greg Anthony was talking about because I thought Portland had a great draft. LaMarcus Aldridge isn't my favorite, but Roy has the chance to become the best player of this class and the Blazers acquired some foreign talent and second-round picks that could serve them well in the future.
Granted, they did draft a guy named Sergio Rodriguez who could take the two worst traits of his namesakes (Msrrs. Garcia and Rodriguez, Alex) and become a over-waggling choker with purple lips, but for Roy, that's a risk they should be willing to take.
By the way, was ESPN trying to turn away viewers with a panel of Stephen A. Smith, Greg Anthony and Jay Bilas last night? What, Tino Martinez was busy?
Amazingly, Bilas was the least annoying of the bunch (and he even got in a few good shots at Isiah). And when did Greg Anthony become somebody whose opinion I'm supposed to value? The man went to UNLV during the Tarkanian years, for crap's sake! If I need tips on how to make the transition from a hot tub to the bedroom with a hooker from the Strip, G.A. will be the first man I call. But at the NBA Draft? Come on now.

#22 - New Jersey - Marcus Williams (Connecticut)
My "dozer" of 2006, Williams slipped to #22 despite being the most NBA-ready player in the entire draft.
This is what I'll never understand about NBA GMs. They'd rather take a guy with enormous potential to succeed (or, thusly, fail) than a guy they know will be a good, and perhaps great, player. I mean, what the hell did Rajon Rondo do in college that made the Celtics think he was a better player than Marcus Williams? What, just because everybody said Rondo was going to be amazing when he came out of high school he automatically becomes a high-pick because of it? He showed nothing at Kentucky to indicate he'll be a good NBA player. Maybe he will be, but there is much less evidence to support that theory than exists from somebody like Marcus Williams.
Needless to say, I was crushed when David Stern announced the Bullets were taking some Ukrainian dude rather than Williams.

#29 - New York - Mardy Collins (Temple)
The suits on the ESPN set gave some credit to Isiah for this pick but you can be sure that if any other team had taken Collins, Jay Bilas would have been raving. Chad Ford hates him, which only further lets me know that Isiah made a good pick.
When I saw Wake Forest play at Temple two years ago, I couldn't stop watching Collins run the floor. He had a great knowledge for the game, always seemed to be one step ahead of what Wake was doing (granted, outsmarting Skip Prosser is like beating a pre-schooler in Boggle, but you get the point) and single-handedly kept Temple in a game that had no business being close. They say Collins has no position, which is something draft analysts say when they have nothing else to say. (I also love how one of their main knocks on players was their "defensive skills" as if playing defense has any role in the NBA outside of Detroit. You might as well criticize a player's MCAT scores.
The best "needs to work on" graphic of the night, however, was for a foreign player that was said to be an "unpolished gem" by Fran Fraschilla. Yet apparently the thing the young man needed to work on the most was his "offensive skills" which is sort of like saying he needs to get better at "being not crappy.")

#13 - Philadelphia - Thabo Sefolsha (Switzerland)
Neutral pick by the Sixers.

#45 - Memphis (via trade) - Alexander Johnson (Florida State)
Johnson isn't going to set the world ablaze, but at #45 he gives Jerry West's team some size and athleticism.
Is there any greater compliment on draft night than getting picked by Jerry West? Well, besides being picked by Billy Knight, of course.

#57 - Minnesota - Loukas Mavrokefalidis (Greece)
The era of Greek domination in the NBA begins riiiiiiiiight............... now!

Picks I Didn't Like
#5 - Atlanta - Shelden Williams (Duke)
Oh, Billy Knight. You've done it again! One year after trading two first-round picks and Boris Diaw for Joe Freakin' Johnson and passing on Chris Paul despite you team's desperate need for a point guard, you take Shelden Williams at #5.
By the way, that's not a typo. Seriously. The Hawks took Shelden Williams with the fifth pick of the entire draft! Oh-Five. Half of ten. One, two, three, four, FIF. Fifth. The same place the Heat took Dwyane Wade in 2003. The same spot Minnesota took Kevin Garnett in 1995. Or, more appropriately, the same draft position that Nickoloz Tskitishvile went in '02. I don't even know where to begin with this one.
Shelden consistently got his lunch thrown at him when he played great, good or even decent big men in college. That "great defense" we hear so much about came in the form of Williams' impressive blocked shot numbers and the sets implemented by Duke's Hall of Fame coach. That Shelden's blocks come mainly when he trailed on a play was apparently irrelevent. (Tyrus Thomas is an example of a player who earned his blocks by staying in front of his man and challenging baskets. Williams did that occasionally but, more often than not, his blocks came from behind - which isn't too much of a surprise seeing as how he played with J.J. Redick.)
Looking at last year's stats, Shelden had nine contests against teams featuring a solid presence in the middle. In those games he averaged 14.6 points and 8.7 boards. In Duke's 29 games facing squad's with middling presence in the paint ""The Landlord"" averaged 20.3 points and 11.3 rebounds.
Yup, that sounds like the fifth-best player in the land.
(Apparently Bill Simmons called this a "solid pick". Yes, about as solid as your joke about being related to Cedric Simmons. It was sort of funny the first time Chris Berman said that about Tom Jackson 15 years ago. Sort of.)
I've been calling Shelden Williams the most overrated player in college basketball for the better part of three years now and I don't think I have any more left in me. I'm no draft expert and I'm more successful picking who's going to be good than who's going to be terrible, but I have no trouble going out on a limb right here: Shelden Williams at #5 is almost as bad as the time Dallas took Cherokee Parks at #12.

#8 - Houston (via trade) - Rudy Gay (Connecticut)
If you don't know, you better ask somebody.

#12 - Oklahoma City - Hilton Armstrong (Connecticut)
It seems that I either love (Caron Butler, Ben Gordon, Marcus Williams) or hate (Charlie Villanueva, Rudy Gay, Khalid El-Amin) players from UConn. Of course, I suppose I totally missed the boat of Villanueva so there's a good chance Gay or Armstrong will pan out. (Most likely the latter.)

#19 - Sacramento - Quincy Douby (Rutgers)
How the hell did a guy with a last night pronounced "Doobie" not end up in Portland?

It's Ironic... Usually I Love Fried Things

I just got back from dropping off my Powerbook at CompUSA, in hopes that "Lee" will be able to work his curly-haired magic and bring my computer back from the dead. Even though I have a casual familiarity with computers, talking with Lee caused flashbacks to too many conversations with my mechanic over the years. Both he and Lee use all these technial terms, which I nod at, and even though they act as if my nod indicates I know what they're talking about deep down we both know that I have no actual clue what an intake valve really is.
Hopefully Lee is a honest fellow or else I might get hosed. I probably didn't help my cause when he told me that there was a chance my motherboard was fried and I shot back, "yeah, well your mama's so stupid she took a cup to see Juice!" At that point the dozen or so workers in the back all went "oooooooooh" and it was on.
Anyway, luckily for me, this morning I was able to perform a Lazarus-like resurrection of my own with my trusty Wake Forest-assigned IBM Thinkpad. It's creaky, it's slow and it weighs about as much as Charles Barkley the day after Thanksgiving, but (for the moment) it's getting the job done.
Cavorting around town all day trying to get computers fixed and whatnot has hindered my plans for a thorough NBA Draft Preview (which, incidentally, had been hindered by my Powerbook dying in the first place), but here's a quick rundown of what to look for tonight. Hopefully I can have a solid recap tomorrow, which might be difficult because, as luck would have it, on the night that Pedro's return to Fenway is on ESPN2HD and the NBA Draft is on ESPNHD, I will not be in front of the TV. As you can clearly tell, I'm thrilled about this.
On second thought, it seems kind of pointless to babble on about the Draft when, in four hours time, we'll know who's going where. Instead, I'll wait until tomorrow to rip the team that drafts Hilton Armstrong in the first-round and praise the unbelievable luck of the squad that sees Brandon Roy fall to them.
Last thing: In 2002 my sleeper player of the draft was Caron Butler. In 2003, Josh Howard. In 2004 my horse was Ben Gordon. And last year, Danny Granger was the player I touted. This year my favorite players are Brandon Roy, Randy Foye and Mardy Collins. But, just like in 2002 and 2004, a UConn guy is my player to watch: Marcus Williams gets the distinction of Chris's Sports Blog's 2006 NBA Draft Dozer. (I can't call him a sleeper because he'll likely be a lottery pick; but teams will certainly doze on Williams when they choose a similarly-last-named center from Duke and expect him to dominate in the NBA when he couldn't even dominate Cedric Simmons or Eric Williams in college. But since he has a nickname like "The Landlord" he must be good... Right?)

I'm Going To Post A Draft Preview?

Maybe; we'll see how the repairs from Geeks on Patrol goes. While perusing the Yellow Pages yesterday looking for computer repair people, I instinctively called the companies with words like "nerds," "dorks," or "geeks" in their titles. Luckily this adjective-title fetish doesn't affect me when I'm searching for, say, a chinese restaurant because the ones that are called "Hunan Delicious" and "#1 Chinese" are always the ones shown on the news with freezers full of neighborhood cats.
Anyway, I'm going to be very disappointed if some normal looking guy sans pocket protecter shows up at my door in the next 30 minutes.

Gay! Gay! Gay!

This probably was inevitable:

League sources confirmed to ESPN.com that Toronto is considering [Rudy] Gay at No. 1. This would certainly shock the draft, since Gay has been considered a lock to drop over the past few weeks.
Sources close to the situation said Gay worked out exceptionally well in Toronto, had a clean medical report, has the prototype NBA body for a small forward, is an "outstanding individual" and is considered a "safe pick.''
-Andy Katz, June 27, 2006, ESPN.com

Two weeks ago I was talking to some guy on the Metro about how amazed I was that Rudy Gay was being projected as the #7 or #8 pick in the draft. Given the propensity of NBA scouts to place value on meaningless workouts while totally ignoring player's game-time abilities, it was shocking that a physical specimen like Gay, a player who is the perfect basketball player on paper, was getting so little attention.
Scouts love guys like Gay. He's talented, has tremendous upside and looks like a basketball player. The only problem is, while playing at UConn Gay looked like he didn't care when he was on the court. Worse, when he did try, he didn't look all that great.
I was at the MCI Center during Connecticut's overtime win against Washington in the Sweet 16 this year and watched Gay pretty exclusively during the first half and most of the second. He jogged up the court, didn't move without the ball, never set picks, half-heartedly went up for rebounds and just seemed as if he was generally disinterested in what was going on.
Keep in mind, this was in the third round of the NCAA Tournament, on national television and came after there was growing sentiment that Gay didn't give good effort on the court. If Gay didn't give his all during an elimination game that also doubled as an audition for NBA scouts, why on Neptune would anybody think he would work hard after getting paid?
Players can change their work-ethic; it happens all the time. I'd be surprised if it happens with Rudy Gay though. Some guys have it and some guys don't. Gay looks like he doesn't have it.
It's amazing to me that NBA GMs refuse to acknowledge that a good player has to have the desire, as well as the talent. Maybe it's because talent is easy to quantify while desire can be faked. I'm sure Rudy Gay has been prepped and trained to impress in interviews with teams. But anybody duped by that should remember what Kwame Brown alledgedley told Michael Jordan after handling Tyson Chandler in a one-on-one game the day before the 2001 NBA Draft: "I promise you, if you draft me, you'l never regret it." One would think a player would bust his ass every day after making a statement like that. The only thing Brown busted was the 100 mph barrier. (By the way, I refuse to believe Kwame actually said that. Nothing that he has done during his time in the NBA has ever suggested he had that sort of moxie.)
The writing is on the wall with Rudy Gay. He is a safe pick because he looks the part. Too bad he doesn't act it too.
(By the way, this weekend I had been putting together a comprehensive NBA Draft preview, complete with a thorough list of the biggest busts and worst picks of the past 20 years (there is a difference), but then Black Sunday came and it was erased forever. It's probably for the best though, I seem to remember going on a lengthy tangent about Juwan Howard's $100 million contract that, for some reason, included multiple shots at Mr. Rogers.)

* Day two of my computer-less existence and I've come to a sobering conclusion: Without the diversion the internet provides, a full game of soccer practically becomes unbearable to watch. During the entire Brazil/Ghana game I was kicking myself for reading The Post cover-to-cover before 11 a.m. because without that reading material, I was left with absolutely nothing to do but sit and watch 22 men run up and down a field. Sure, I could have read a book, but reading a book requires full devotion to the page; whereas a paper-perusing is more casual and allows for frequent TV looks. Ronaldo's goal was sick and Ghana was in the game for much of the contest, but even with all the "excitement" (sarcastic quotation marks have never been this sarcastic), I found myself flipping to The Price Is Right nearly every 45 seconds. (Scarlett totally blew it, by the way. Of course the Tums cost more than the four-pack of butter. Do they not have grocery stores in the postbellum South, Scarlett?)

Apple, Much Like LaVar Arrington, You Have Failed Me

Once upon a time I was as much of a PC man as a PC man could be. Back then I thought Apples were only meant for Snow White and people that lived in San Francisco. But after countless Windows XP-induced crashes on my IBM Thinkpad, various problems getting my wireless internet to work anywhere and the realization that the iPod was the single greatest invention since the deep fryer, my loyalty started to waver. And when I saw firsthand just how sleek, powerful and, dare I say, sexy the iMac was, I began a slow conversion process from PC to Mac.
After buying an Apple Powerbook G4 last March, it took me about five seconds to totally disown all things PC and about ten before I began proselytizing to the uninformed masses about just how wonderful Apple computers were. I convinced at least four separate people to buy Apples, including my sister who purchased the new MacBook Pro only to discover that Apple shipped her a dud. In retrospect, that should have been my first sign.
Still, I stayed steadfast in my belief of Apple superiority. Until yesterday, that is. That's when my laptop stopped working, without notice. The screen flickered three times and then... Nothing. I've tried everything. Control-Command-Power, Control-Fn-Delete, Jackie-Joyner-Kersee, hell, I even tried CPR on the damn thing.
Shoot, it took my Thinkpad about 45 minutes to boot up near the end of its life, but at least the damn thing turned on. I feel like a mortician fucking around with the Powerbook because it feels like a freakin' corpse. Nothing works; I feel like Phil Mickelson on the 18th hole of the U.S. Open. (Zing!)
Anyway, I'm now computer-less (for the moment at least), which, for the time being, isn't the most terrible thing because these massive thunderstorms in D.C. have wiped out power and cable where I live. But until I get this thing fixed, don't expect too much in the way of posting. And if anybody knows anything about Powerbooks, please drop me an e-mail. Not that I have a computer to check said e-mail with, but whatever.
Oh yeah, I had been working on-and-off this weekend on a multi-part NBA Draft preview but that, needless to say, is history, along with my computer.

The Day The Pimping Died

Ladies and gentlemen, our long national nightmare is over; for today we can collectively stop acting like we care about soccer.
It was a trying 12 days, to be sure. From the opening game rout at the hands of a country that didn’t exist when Vanilla Ice was popular to yesterday’s disappointment against a team that featured a player named “Pimpong”. (His name sounds like the title of a Snoop album. “Fo’ shizzle my nizzles, this my new record which we callin’ “Pimp On, G”. It’s crack-a-lackin, nieces and nephews. Chuuch.”)
But now, after all the hype and the subsequent letdown, soccer can go back to being a sport we all openly mock, even as we let our kids learn it’s commie-leaning ways.
Me? I’m going to crack open a beer, go watch some baseball and, if I see him, heckle Landon Donovan, because that guy makes Eli Manning look like Eli Manning if Eli Manning was actually any good.

And His Biggest Regret Is Never Seeing Judy Garland Live

White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen is under fire for calling Chicago Sun-Times and Around the Horn blowhard Jay Mariotti a "fag," after a recent Mariotti column blasted Guillen for berating a rookie pitcher after he failed to hit a batter as instructed.
I'm all for calling Jay Mariotti names and I am a fan of Guillen's schtick and I'd be lying if I said I didn't use the same word to describe certain effeminate shortstops or drunk driving-loving two-guards, but Guillen has to know better than to use that word in public. He should get a token suspension from White Sox ownership but shouldn't make some phony public apology because we all know he's not sorry at all.
The best part of the story isn't Mariotti getting the comeuppance and public ridicule he deserves (it's sort of like A.J. Pierzynski getting punched in the face; everyone has to publicly act like Guillen was wrong, but secretly they all agree with him), but a certain line from the Associated Press story on the incident.
To defend his usage of the word, Guillen explained to reporters that, in his country, "fag" is not a reference to somebody's sexuality, but their courage. The story continued:

Guillen also told [the reporter] that he has gay friends, attends WNBA games, went to a Madonna concert and plans to go to the Gay Games in Chicago.

Guillen also Tivo's The L Word and has Streisand's version of "My Man" as his ring-tone.
Seriously, The Onion couldn't have written a funnier line if they had tried. I love that Guillen equates going to WNBA games and Madonna concerts as something that is exclusive to gay people. If I were gay, a WNBA fan or Madonna, I think that line would upset me more than Guillen's choice of disparaging terms.

OK, He Was Fouled, But...

Alright, I was wrong yesterday when I wrote that Dwyane Wade wasn't fouled in the final seconds of Game 5.

(via Mr. Irrelevant)

Many people, including Michael Wilbon, have changed their opinions on the foul/no foul question because of this picture and some video replays. Everyone also acknowledges that the refs made a mistake and should have called the foul on Devin Harris, not Dirk Nowitzki as a result. This picture has been enough to convince those people that the refs did not make a mistake in calling a foul and Wade's game-winning free throws came on a legit foul. To which I say, not so fast, bub.
The picture above is snapped at the end of Wade's drive, as he was falling back to the ground. The whistle in question, however, was blown before Wade even jumped in the air, a good half-second before this offense by Harris occurred. That whistle wasn't for Harris, it was for Dirk. That Harris happened to foul Wade afterwards is merely coincidence.
Watch the replay and you'll hear the whistle immediately after Wade makes contact with Dirk Nowitzki while driving to the rim. There was no actual foul on Dirk, it just happened to be called by the officials. The refs did screw up, contrary to popular opinion.
Yes, but Harris still fouled Wade, so, in the end, everything worked out, right?
Perhaps, my italicized friend. One could make the argument that, because Harris fouled Wade later, the theoretical foul by Nowitzki just takes the place of Harris'.
I will not make said argument.
Because the refs blew the whistle before Wade was in the process of shooting, everything that happened afterwards is altered because of the knowledge that Wade would be going to the line. He had nothing to lose with the shot because he knew that, even if he missed, he'd still have a chance to win the game with foul shots. That's a drastic change in pressure from the essential series-saving shot Wade would have had to take sans whistle. This is not to suggest that Wade consciously acknowledged that he could miss the shot and still win the game, but upon hearing the whistle he easily could have thought "screw it, I'm going to try and get this ball in any way I can now."
I'm reaching, I know, but I refuse to stand by and listen to people compliment NBA referees. They are among the most incompetent people in America and Sunday night's crew deserves no credit for getting lucky because Devin Harris happened to foul Dwyane Wade after they had already blown the whistle for a foul that never took place.

It Was 20 Years Ago Today...

...That Len Bias died of a heart attack after a cocaine binge.

Len Bias at the NBA Draft;
34 hours later he was dead.

On the 10th anniversary of Bias' death, a fledgling WashingtonPost.com looked back:
Maryland basketball star Bias dead at 22 - Traces of Cocaine Found In System June 20, 1986
Maryland Loses "The Man" June 20, 1986
Thomas Boswell: Honed as Heroes, Unskilled in Ambiguities June 21, 1986
Michael Wilbon: One year later, some athletes still haven't learned their lesson June 19, 1987
Michael Wilbon: The Story of Bias's Death Should Always Have Life June 19, 2006

Weekend Thoughts

Heat Take Game 5, Lead NBA Finals 3-2
Let me get this out of the way first: I was not awake when Josh Howard did, or did not, call the controversial timeout last night. My dad and I had a 7:35 tee-time on Father's Day and, as a result of the late-night/early-wakeup, I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough for Entourage, let alone a game that didn't end until past midnight. But, I did see the pertinent highlights on Sportscenter (even if their game recap didn't seem to do much recapping), so I can say the following with some certainty: The only reason the timeout/no timeout thing is a big deal is because the NBA's rule regarding the inbound of the ball after a timeout on a made basket is the single worst rule in sports.
It makes no sense, there's no logic behind it and the only reason nobody complains about it is because they've known no other way. Think about it this way, if the NFL allowed teams to move the ball to their opponents 45-yard line after calling a timeout, the Eagles still would be horrible at clock management. And everybody would be really upset about it.
There. That's out of my system. I probably rant about that every six months or so and I think I was overdue.
I also know one more thing about last night's game: Josh Howard called the timeout. He says he didn't which, of course he will because there's no visual evidence of it. (Believe me, if Chris Webber could have claimed the same thing in the 1993 NCAA Finals, he'd be in O.J.-esque denial (one in which somebody tells a lie so much that they actually believe it to be true. I'm the same way with my side-job as a volunteer firefighter. Because I tell so many girls in bars that I fight fires, whenever I hear a siren, I instinctively check my non-existent fireman pager.
Tip: The key to the volunteer firefighter lie is, after casually dropping that nugget of info into the conversation, don't talk about it any further. After all, if you really were a volunteer firefighter, would you like to talk about it so much? But I'm way off topic here, so let's get back to Josh Howard.)
Like I said, I didn't watch the game and only caught the highlights on SportsCenter so I have no clue if anybody brought this up (let me apologize if they did), but Howard made a similar timeout mistake while at Wake Forest. In 2002, the year Maryland went undefeated at Cole Field House and won the National Championship, Howard led the #21st ranked Deacs into College Park and tied the game at 89 on a little runner with 10 seconds left. After missing the free throw, Maryland ran down the court for a quick shot. With 1.9 seconds left, Juan Dixon missed a jumper, Wake rebounded and Howard immediately called for a timeout. For a split second afterwards Cole was silent except for my agonizing groan. Wake Forest had no timeouts left. Technical foul. Pandemonium in Cole. Juan Dixon hit his first free throw, missed the second on purpose and Josh Howard spent the next 30 minutes crying in the locker room.
I love Josh Howard, so it pains me to say this, but these mental errors are the rule, not the exception.
Some people like to say that "The Timeout" ruined Chris Webber in clutch situations for the rest of his basketball life. And, indeed, Webber performs like A. Rod in big situations. But this is a chicken and the egg situation. The Timeout didn't screw up Webber, he was screwed up way before The Timeout. It's the same thing with Howard.
As The Wolfman reminded me this morning, Howard always came up short in Wake's NCAA Tournament games. (Granted, before his final Tournament, Howard was given a crystal by this hippie I knew that was said to have special powers. Howard accepted it, traveled with it and had it in his locker during the game. He then went 4-10 with seven turnovers in #2 Wake's upset loss to seventh-seeded Auburn. (By the way, unlike my volunteer firefighter tales, that one is completely true.) Maybe Howard took the crystal because he's a really nice guy. (He is.) Maybe he took the crystal because he didn't want to piss off any higher power. Maybe he took the crystal because he has a soft-spot in his heart for guys that have seen Phish over 75 times. Or maybe he took the crystal because he was willing to try anything in order to play well in big games.)
One more thing, Dwayne Wade didn't even come close to getting fouled. As my buddy Obaza put it today, "We all know how bad the refs are in the NBA and it makes the games pretty much unbearable. Why should I spend two hours watching a game only to see the 100 year old refs control the game at the end?"

Phil Mickelson? More Like Phil MickelSTUPID!!!! (gruff, overexaggerated laughter follows)
Mike and Mike were absolutely killing Mickelson today after he choked away the U.S. Open yesterday on the 18th hole. Phil probably deserves it, but not as much as he's getting it today. I'm not going to say I'm going to play devil's advocate because I hated that movie almost as much as I hate that term, but I'm going to put myself in the rare position of defending Phil (a man who I am not the biggest fan of, despite our similar left-handed tendencies. Mike Weir, on the other hand, that cat is cool with me.)
Here goes: Phil's choke isn't worse than Jean van de Velde's and it's not worse Greg Norman's either. He choked, to be sure, but it's not a Hall of Fame choke like the other two I've mentioned for the following reasons:
1) Phil only made one bad shot on 18 and made just two stupid decisions. The bad shot came off the tee and the stupid decisions were pulling out driver and not chipping out of the rough the first time around. And I'm not even sure the latter was that stupid. I'll get more into that in a minute.
2) On Sunday the 18th hole was the second-most difficult hole on the golf course. The average score was 4.44. In other words, par wasn't assured, as most people have been claiming today.
Now, Mickelson probably should have pulled out the 3-wood (or even the 4-wood) on the tee. Hitting just 2 of 14 fairways is a sure sign that one's swing mechanics aren't operating smoothly. But, other than that decision (and the bad shot), Mickelson didn't f*** up that badly.
Put yourself in Phil's shoes after the wayward tee shot. He walked up to the tee knowing that a simple par makes him the U.S. Open champion. At that point, a playoff isn't even in his mind. All he's looking for is the win. After the tee shot (and its miraculous lie, because that shot would have landed in Manhattan had it not been for the hospitality tent), Phil has to readjust his expections a bit. A playoff is in the back of his mind, but with the beneficial lie and a decent look at the green, par is by no means impossible. After all, Phil had saved par nearly a dozen times on Sunday after hitting the ball in the rough after a tee shot. I'm sure he thought he had room for one more.
At the time, I agreed with Johnny Miller and thought Phil needed to lay-up. But that's why I shot a 45 on the back-nine yesterday and was watching the Open on TV. Phil knows his game. He's not the reckless kid he once was. He had won three of the last nine majors. Surely he thought he could pull off the shot and so, apparently, did his trusted caddie. (Or think of it this way: If it had been Tiger in the same situation, would anybody be criticizing him for taking the risk? )
At 7:03 p.m. yesterday, when Phil took that shot, he was the best golfer in the world. Who the hell are any of us to tell him to play for an 18-hole playoff on Monday instead of winning the title outright on Sunday? Of course he was going to play for the win! It's not like he had to hit the ball through a clown's mouth and windmill. It was a shot over some trees and onto a green, a shot Phil has pulled off many times before. Just because he didn't execute doesn't mean he made the wrong choice.
People always use the "in the heat of the moment, you make bad decisions" line to defend athletes. Most of the time, I think it's a cop-out excuse. Not in this case, though. If Mickelson truly thought he'd have a reasonable chance to make par and win the U.S. Open he had to try to get that ball on the green. It hit a tree instead (at least that's what we've been told, because NBC decided that one camera shooting the biggest shot of the Tournament was acceptable, it seems). After that, Phil had to try to make bogey and did his best to do so. It didn't happen, he lost and Geoff Ogilvey backed into the victory.
Phil made a mistake of the tee. But after that, the man was just trying to win the U.S. Open. Leave him alone and let's focus on more important stories, like how hot his wife is.

U.S. Beats Italy! Wait, It Was A Tie?! Then Why Are We So Happy???!
In other news, David Stern placed an emergency call to Jorge Larrionda to see if he was available to ref Game 6 of the NBA Finals.

Zimmerman Hits Jack Off Wang, Nats Steal Series Against Yanks
I'm so glad I decided to catch the Nats/Yanks on Friday when the Nats blew a late lead, instead of on Saturday and Sunday when they came back for unexpected wins. Well, at least I got to see A. Rod and his purple lips choke like the choking dog he is. (And at least all three games were on TV, along with two of the first three against the Red Sox. It's ridiculous that Nats fans in Maryland get excited when five straight games are actually televised.)

Hockey: It's Still Going On
And Howie Mandel's pissed.

The Onion Knows, Child

As usual, The Onion is ahead of the curve:

Mackey Sasser: 'Hey Everybody, Look At Me, I Took Steroids - I'm Mackey Sasser And I Took Steroids'
- The Onion, June 15, 2006

Ex-MLB'er Segui Says He Took HGH
- ESPN.com, June 18, 2006

World Cup Thoughts

* So I've been flipping between the U.S. Open and England vs. Trinidad in World Cup play, and I've gotta say: If this is what England is supposed to be good at, I shudder to think about how bad their food must be. These Trinidadian cats, along with their Tobagon bretheren, are holding their own against England, a team that has soccer players I've actually heard of. And when I've heard of a soccer player, they have to be really good. Unless said player is named DeMarcus Beasley. Because he's really brutal and when I can tell when a soccer player sucks, you know you got problems.

* Soccer is really, really boring. Even with history on the line at the moment (I'm picturing a bunch of people throwing themselves off the top of Big Ben should England drop this game - it's tied in the 81st minute but the accented-ones are threatening and will probably score any minute), I can't say I'm on the edge of my seat. Oh, every seven minutes or so somebody has a scoring opportunity, but it's one of those "here we go, here we go, here we go, AWWWWWWWWWWW... SO CLOSE!" sorts of thing. (Note: England just went ahead in the 83rd minute.

* Whenever you tell a soccer fan how much soccer sucks they break out the inevitable "but it's the most popular sport in the world" line. There's so many things wrong with that statement that I'm going to have to make a list:
1) Notice, how they can only point to soccer's global popularity, not to any tangible quality of the actual game. It's sort of like commenting, "I don't like the taste of fish," and hearing, "yes, but Jesus ate it!"
2) In no other discussion, except one revolving around soccer, would the opinions of Brazilians and the French be considered an acceptable defense.
3) Sports fans in those countries where soccer is popular have nothing else to watch but soccer. There is no (American) football league in Argentina. Countries that do have basketball leagues have ones that are subpar. And baseball leagues only go as far as Central America and the Far East.
Curling is popular in Iceland for a reason. That doesn't mean I should be watching it.

* America will never win a World Cup. I never break out the "n" word unless I'm doing a 2Pac song at a karaoke bar, but I can say with some certainty that the U.S. will never ever be a major player on the soccer scene. My reason is simple: Our best athletes do not and will not play soccer.
I'd go into it more, but I'm kind of tired and Tiger just bogeyed his second consecutive hole to start his round so I'm kind of upset because that means we're going to have to listen to Chris Berman wax philosophical about why New York is so amazing (seriously USGA, did you buy your U.S. map from Peter Stuyvesant? Three Opens in six years in the New York area is enough. These people should be concentrating on how to hop on the Mets bandwagon, not watching golf) and how Phil Mickelson is a "New York kind of guy." He actually said that three times this morning during Mickelson's round. Ever since that self-righteous post-Rush Limbaugh/McNabb episode of NFL Countdown I've never been able to look or listen to Berman in the same way. And Berman calling golf is like Sam Kinison officiating a funeral. The only thing right about it is its wrongness.

Maybe J.J. Redick Is More NBA-Ready Than We Thought

Remember that autistic kid who made all those three-pointers and how everybody said it was the feel-good story of the year? Well, Jason McElwain's is still a touching tale, but its status as 2006's most heartwarming story is in jeopardy after news of J.J. Redick's arrest for DWI on Tuesday night.
Some thoughts:
* Here's hoping the Chippendales bartender who served Redick all those Malibus doesn't get in any trouble.
* I wonder how Dick Vitale took the news. I see only four possible options:
1) Dismissed the report by claiming the DWI accusations were the result of an extreme Duke-bias that comes from being the single greatest basketball program in the land, baby.
2) Immediately blamed the failed breathalyzer on fatigue, not alcohol.
3) After being awoken with the news early this morning, ran downstairs, activated his ESPN-override switch and ranted on-air for eight consecutive hours about how even great human beings and PTP'ers can make a mistake.
4) Pre-heated oven to 450 degrees. Placed head in oven.
* Durham DA Mike Nifong is said to be putting the Duke lacrosse case on the backburner so he can pursue the death penalty in this case.
* If Redick is lucky his BAC will be lower than his his shooting percentage in his final college game (.166). My college buddies are pretty sure anything above a .15 in North Carolina is a more serious offense. Not that any of us would know anything about that. Particularly those dressed as Alex P. Keaton. (Update: Redick blew a .11. And - no, can't go there. My mom will be reading this.)
* I wonder if Coach K arrived on the scene to bitch to the arresting officers about not calling anything on Tyler Hansbrough.
* Redick's arrest could actually help his draft status, as the Portland Trail Blazers are currently sitting at #4.
* To keep up with his pal, Adam Morrison plans on knocking off a Seattle-area liquor store this evening.
* Early reports indicate Redick delayed posting bail so he could see if the "drop the soap" prison stereotype is really true.
* In a Chris's Sports Blog exclusive, I've acquired Redick's first post-arrest poem:

Bars surround me. I am alone.
With my thoughts. And the spins.
The doors open. Coach K has finally come!
But alas. His Eminence the door opener is not.
I am no longer alone. A black man joins me.
I ask him if he knows Shelden Williams. Or Luol Deng.
The man calls me a name. Maybe he went to Maryland.
Why did I have that extra Mike's Hard Lemonade? Why?
To strengthen me. To embiggen me.
Yes. This is my test.
I am like Job. Or Noah.
Well, maybe not like Job. He wouldn't have gone 3-18 in the biggest game of his career.

Banged-Up Ben

The self-righteous among us like to brag about how "they wish no harm upon anybody." And, to a degree, neither do I. Except for harm to people that say they wish no harm upon anybody, but only because I like my irony delicious.
Still, I said "to a degree" because nobody really wishes no harm on anybody. For instance, I wish Al-Zarqawi had lived 52 hours instead of 52 minutes after getting his ass handed to him in that airstrike, just so everybody he terrorized could have pulled out his beard hairs one by one while rapping various verses to Mobb Deep songs. And it's not just super-terrorists either. Every time Eli Manning drops back to pass, I hope he gets hurt. Don't get me wrong, I'm not wishing serious harm on him, but a pulled hammy or twisted knee is certainly fair game, mainly because he bitched his way out of San Diego and acted as if he had no other choice. Karma, karma, karma comes back to you hard. Or at least that's what a chameleon once told me.
And this is why I'm torn about how to feel about Ben Roethlisberger's motorcycle accident. On one hand, I feel bad for him. I've liked Big Ben since he was at Miami (Ohio) and was vigorously rooting for him in the Super Bowl. On the other hand, I feel I'd probably be amused if Nelson walked up to Roethlisberger's hospital bed and delivered one of his patented "haw-haaww's!" at him. Because Ben Roethlisberger totally should have seen this coming. Three's Company episodes didn't contain this much obvious foreshadowing.
For an analysis, let's go to Paul McGuire:

OK, here's a guy who openly discussed why he didn't wear a motorcycle helmet back sometime last year. I mean, watch this, he even patronizingly informed the media that going helmetless on a motorcycle wasn't against the law in Pennsylvania. (Neither is snorting cayenne pepper, but sometimes common sense has to rule the day - Ed.) Look here, we talked to Roethlisberger yesterday and he was downright defiant about his helmet use. Now the only thing he wishes he defied was Newton's first law.

Early reports indicate Roethlisberger is doing OK and in stable condition after, luckily, only suffering a broken jaw, fractured sinus bone and the loss of most of his teeth.
This is the third motorcycle accident involving a high-profile athlete in the past three years. None were wearing helmets and the first two, Jason Williams and Kellen Winslow, missed serious time as a result. Hopefully Roethlisberger will make a full recovery, but I'm not going to say I'd be sad if he has to miss a significant portion of the 2006 season because of his idiocy.
Seriously, how dumb does somebody whose body is their livelihood have to be to ride a motorcycle without a helmet? It's like a brain surgeon competing in pickup games of mercy.
Ben Roethlisberger should have known better than to: a) ride a motorcycle and b) ride a motorcycle without a helmet. (And how NFL teams don't require "no motorcycle" clauses in player contracts is beyond me.) Now Ben Roethlisberger and the Pittsburgh Steelers will pay the price for his stupidity. It's still early, but who could have ever imagined Charlie Batch opening the season at quarterback for a defending Super Bowl champion. He just better put away that moped first.

Wie-diculous

Does anybody know how Michelle Wie did yesterday at the U.S. Open qualifying in New Jersey? One would think a woman merely playing for the chance to miss the cut by a wide margin at the real U.S. Open next weekend would warrant breaking news coverage, but all ESPN did yesterday was constantly update Wie's progress atop their Web site and cut into SportsCenter and PTI with live updates as if this monumental event was on par with a cheater tying for second place on the career homerun chart. For shame, ESPN! Where was the "Full Circle" coverage for Wie's quest to finish 18th among a bunch of dudes who aren't among the 115 best golfers in the world? What, Pedro Gomez was too busy reporting on Barry Bonds' quest to pass Charlie Gehringer for 18th on the career doubles list?
For such a historic event I at least expected a normal telecast on ESPN, a constant shot of Wie's just-sucked-on-a-lemon lips on ESPN2 and the Cameron Crazy-cam on ESPNU.
Damn, with just 15 other Open qualifying events around the world, one would think the qualifier in New Jersey would take special precedence, especially with a girl involved! Jersey is near New York City for crap's sake! Just ask Paul Tagliabue how amazing and one-of-a-kind the Big Apple is! Surely the regional qualifier there is more special than the ones near, say, Denver, Chicago, Los Angeles and D.C. Yet ESPN devoted only one segment of their daily news show to Wie's afternoon. And The New York Times just gave Wie an above-the-fold picture on their front page (right). What, girl couldn't get no moon landing-esque fonts?
How could this story get so little play? Wie was this close to qualifying, finishing just five strokes off making a six-way playoff for one spot in the Open! Just picture it. If she had hit a solid drive on #2, sunk that putt on #7, holed her chip on #13, not hit that tree on #16 and carded a par instead of a bogey on #17, Wie would have had a 1-in-6 chance of making it to our country's most prestigious tournament along with 156 others!
Sure, she didn't make it and, frankly, wasn't even close, but the fact that Wie finished behind guys like Andy Bare, David Oh, Brian Gay, Kris Cox, Benjamin Dickerson, Spike McRoy and Brock Mackenzie is irrelevant because she kind of, sort of, almost made it!
Imagine the victory that would have been for young girls nationwide. No longer would they have to dream about succeeding against humans of their own gender. Had Wie qualified, every girl who ever stepped on any court, field or course would live in a world where mediocrity against men would be infinitely more important than success against women. Title IX, it's time to retire to Boca. You've done your job, my friend.

Peter Kings Likes Cowboy With His Latte

Somehow I missed Peter King's column where he picked Dallas to win the Super Bowl next year (not with a shaky offensive line and a quarterback who is probably less mobile than his rotund head coach), but I did catch today's piece in which King made a list of ten jilted players who belong in the Hall of Fame.
For what it's worth, I think every Hall of Fame that isn't located in Cooperstown is sort of a joke and the NFL's leads the list. As I've argued many times before, football is the quintessential team game. No single player leads an NFL team to a title. Joe Montana had Jerry Rice. Terry Bradshaw had Franco Harris and the Steel Curtain. Tom Brady has Bill Belichick's defense. Barry Sanders had Wayne Fontes and only won one playoff win in his career.
That's just the nature of the beast. So, with no real way to quantify the greatness of players on terrible teams or vice-versa (unlike in baseball, when a player has a bevy of statistics to back-up any greatness-claims, and basketball, when great players can singe-handedly lead a team into the postseason), the Hall of Fame is watered down with good players on great teams and once-in-a-generation players from bad ones. But, that's the way it is, so we've gotta roll with the punches.
Getting back on track, King listed Michael Irvin as his third-most jilted player. And to that I say, "fine." I happen to agree with him. Irvin is a Hall of Famer. King sums up why at the end of his blurb about the crackhead's candidacy (what are the odds Irvin's bust in Canton will itch itself and repeatedly ask visitors for 'just a little cash'):

Only what happened between the lines should matter. Catching 750 balls for a three-time Super Bowl winner and being the key guy in the locker room on game days ... that should make him a gimme.

"Here, here!" is what I'd say if I had a white wig on and lived in 1780. A whole bunch of catches and a whole bunch of rings and a leader in the locker room makes for a great Hall of Famer. I wrote this very thing in an e-mail to King:

Without question, Michael Irvin should already be in the football Hall of Fame. As you said, with 750 catches for a three-time Super Bowl winner, he should be a gimmie. But if that's the case, shouldn't Art Monk be a lock because he has 900 catches for, again, a three-time Super Bowl winner?
I understand, and respect, your argument that Irvin was a locker room leader. Somebody had to sling the 'ye to the other 44 guys in there. And, if not for Irvin, where but the bosoms and bare asses of naked strippers would Cowboys players have blown those lines? For that alone the man deserves a wing in Canton!
Seriously though (not that that up there wasn't serious, it just seemed like a good transitionary phrase), I'm sure Irvin was a good leader in the locker room. Things like that should be taken into question when discussing a player's Hall worthiness. Yet I'm nearly certain you'd say "Art Monk wasn't an imporant a leader for the Redskins," while dismissing his candidacy. And that, Peter, like telling your readers about your bowel movements, is just not cool.
Many factors, including loudness, more loudness, an affinity for the spotlight and thick-pinstriped suits, come into play when discussing Irvin's leadership ability. Monk was different though.
He commanded respect through a quiet, workman-like attitude. This rubbed off on Joe Gibbs' teams that didn't have a swagger like those Cowboys teams, yet won just as much. Those Redskins simply went out and did their jobs quietly and won three Super Bowls in the process. Art Monk might never have led a rah-rah speech before the NFC Championship Game, but his quiet presence did just as much as Irvin's loquacious rants.
Leaders lead in different ways. Patton was in his soldier's faces. Grant was more unassuming. Both were among the best generals this country has ever had.
Michael Irvin belongs in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. But Art Monk needs to be in there first.
p.s. Your new picture makes you look like Cruella de Ville's illegitimate son.

The E Section

My love of sports comes from three sources: My mom, Joe Gibbs and The Washington Post sports page. The roles of the first two are easily understood. My mom used to parade me around the house as an infant singing "Hail to the Redskins" and my early years happened to coincide with Gibbs' first term in office, when he led the 'Skins to three Super Bowl wins and earned a spot in the Hall of Fame.
My mom taught me to love sports, Gibbs allowed me to realize just how great that love can be. As for The Washington Post sports page, it fueled my passion for both athletics and writing at an early age. I remember scampering outside barefoot in the freezing winters to get the paper so I could read it before school. Later on, when my dad left "late" enough for work that he could grab the paper himself, The Post would be sitting neatly for me on the kitchen counter. When I was a senior in high school, I only brought two things to school every day: The Sports page and the Style section (so I could do the crossword if, and when, I got bored).
From Shirley Povich to Thomas Boswell to Michael Wilbon to Tony Kornheiser to Dave Sheinen to Leonard Shapiro to Mark Asher to Barry Svlurga, The Post has always had some of the best sportswriters in the business. The section's refusal to bow down to television ratings and market research has kept coverage of sports like swimming, track, boxing and horse racing on a higher level than any other newspaper in the country. Recent innovations like the Monday round-up, more graphic-intensive previews and reviews, an expanded baseball section and top-notch handling of the Olympics have lengthened the distance between The Post and all other competitors.
Of course, all of that has been necessary. With the proliferation of 24-hour news and the internet, it has become a rarity for the print section of the newspaper to contain breaking news. (Daniel Snyder's feud with George Solomon has also led to fewer Redskins scoops made by the newspaper, ie the embarrassment of having CBS Sportsline break the news of Gibbs' return.) So, it's a great feeling when, these days, I wake up, grab the paper, flip open to the Sports front and am greeted with a new story I haven't heard about or read about beforehand. I mention this because that's exactly what happened this morning when I was greeted with this good news: Redskins' Taylor to Accept a Plea Deal.

*** Posting will be light until June 19, but keep coming back as I'll be putting up stuff sporadically until then. ***