Karma is a Bitch

Is it odd to not just hope, but expect your team to pull off something that had been proven nearly impossible? Slightly delusional maybe, but not exactly crazy. Now is it strange when that mindset is held by the entirety of the fan base and almost everyone who knows anything about the team?

That's what you got when the Jets played the previously 14-0 Indianapolis Colts. You may be thinking, "Oh great, everyone has confidence in Gang Green!" More likely you know exactly what I mean when I say it was the farthest thing from a ringing endorsement.

Blessed with a convoluted playoff scenario and a late kickoff, couch potatoes across the New York Metropolitan area could sit back and watch as Houston spent the first half destroying Miami, New England handily dispatched Jacksonville and Pittsburgh blindly stumbled in a Raven's team much in the giving spirit (113 penalty yards, two negated touchdowns and a solid Braylon Edwards impersonation by the usually steady Derrick Mason) and suddenly the Jets just needed two wins and they would be playoff bound one week after Rex Ryan declared them dead in the water.

Sidenote: With all he has done this year I am not about to concede the Ryan actually thought the Jets were out of it. I think it may have all been a ploy. Call me a conspiracy theorist, I just don't think Rex is that dumb.

Of course to get that playoff birth they would have to go through the 14-0 Colts and a division winning Cincinnati Bengals team, no big deal. Vegas still had the Colts favored by 6, but most bigtime football fans knew better. The Jets would return home for their final game at the Meadow lands at 8-7 and with a playoff birth on the line.

Yeah, the Colts already had locked up the AFC top seed, but the lack of effort would never enter the head of Peyton Manning. Considering there is an 85% chance Manning is coaching the team and Jim Caldwell is some Japanese Tech Tycoons new "life-like robot" hired to LOOK official, the overwhelming support for the Jet's had little to do with the Colts and everything to do with history.

The Jet's are cruel. They are the anti-Cubs. They don't like to be lovable, they don't like to let you know they're going down, they just lose. In the process they rip your heart out, leaving every Jet fan feeling like they accidentally wandered into the Temple of Doom. Very few loses for any team I follow stands out more than the 2004 playoffs when the Jets gave the shimmer of hope after Nate Kaeding, now the most accurate kicker IN NFL HISTORY, missed a 40 yard FG in overtime, and the Doug Brien made one for the Jets sending them into Pittsburgh to face the 15-1 Steelers. Luck was finally on the Jets side. The Jets played a great game and twice in the fourth quarter Doug Brien had a chance to give the Jets the win. Both times he went wide. Jeff Reed converted in OT and the Jets were done. Needless to say Doug Brien was released and I'm pretty certain if he found himself in New York it would be a less kind environment than the North Side of Chicago for Steve Bartman. That was the last time the Jets fans had faith their team could pull it out, and that was shattered.

They simply HAD to beat the Colts on Sunday. If they didn't, how could they put their fans through the proper amount of agony when they lose to the Bengals in week 17?

Sure, Jim Caldwell proved for the first time all year that he might actually be the coach of an NFL football team by pulling his starters and yeah the Colts were up before Curtis Painter became the most hated man in Indiana (Kelvin Sampson thanks you), but it was all going to happen so the Jets fans could have one more week of optimism.

Sidenote #2: There are plenty of players who's careers are defined by one awful moment but Curtis Painter has a chance to do something special. He may never see meaningful time after this season. If Jim Sorgi weren't hurt he wouldn't even have seen time against the Jets. Next year Sorgi will be back and Painter will be left to throw passes to the likes of Aaron Morehead in preseason. His shit stain on the turf of Lucas Oil stadium against the Jets will be his entire professional legacy.

I'm a skeptic about alot of things. Do I believe in cursed sports franchises? Not really. But do I believe in history just permeating an organization and fan base to the point that punching your fans in the stomach in games like this just becomes second nature? You better believe it.

Will any of that change how I watch the game next week? Not a chance. The Jets may have punched me in the chest, kicked me in the nuts and kneed me in the face, but I'll keep coming back for more.

David Shinskie-Claus

As you sit there wearing Aunt Elma’s freshly knitted sweater and basking in the hundreds of dollars on store credit December 26th always brings, the Boston College football team will be getting ready to suit up and face the mighty USC Trojans.

Sure it SOUNDS bad, Head Coach Frank Spaziani even told the Boston Globe, “Hopefully it’s not a 76-second knockout.’’

But why is everybody so worried? Just look at the matchup on paper.

Sure USC has three Heisman Trophies this decade and seven overall. BC has Doug Flutie and then some more Doug Flutie.

USC has the hotshot former NFL head coach who gives away cars and apartments like most people give away candy canes on Christmas (allegedly). BC has a lifetime college assistant who is best known for his yellow towel and 1970’s mustache.

USC’s freshman quarterback was one of the top five players in the country last season. BC’s freshman quarterback is 25 and parlayed his time with the New Hampshire Fisher Cats into an ACC starting gig.

USC has pomp, circumstance, shiny body armor, and dudes with swords riding on horses. BC has an inflatable bird that stands on its head and an “Eagle’s on the Warpath” chant that is less effectively deployed than the federal bailout.

None of that stuff is even the “paper” for the game to be played on. That’s just the intro, the fluff, the pictures and one-syllable words that doubles as the USC team’s study guide for English class (Sorry, couldn’t resist).

Once you actually take a look at the “paper”, it doesn’t seem that daunting. The “Men of Troy” look downright beatable.

Sure BC is only 8-4. The Mighty Trojans? Well they are not one win better, going 8-4 themselves.

BC could barely win on the road, three of their four loses coming away from Alumni stadium. In two of the games (Virginia Tech and Clemson) they couldn’t even put up a fight. USC? Well they lost two on the road, including a 27-point dusting by Rose Bowl bound Oregon team.

BC’s loses all came to bowl eligible opponents (Notre Dame decided not to attend one, though if they had I’m sure the 6-6 Irish would have somehow found a slot in BCS picture). USC lost to Washington, a team who will be spending their holiday season at home and had lost 15 of their previous 16 when the then third-ranked Trojans came to town.

BC has 25-year-old journeyman freshman Dave Shinskie at the helm. USC has last year’s ESPN top prospect Matt Barkley running their show. Advantage? Surprisingly push.

Barkley may have thrown 2,385 yards to Shinskie’s 1,831, but both threw 13 picks while Uncle Dave actually had one more touchdown, winning that battle 14-13.

As far as team point production goes, the teams are pretty much even. BC scored 309 points while allowing 233. USC scored 11 more points (320) than the Eagles but allowed 12 more (245), letting the Eagles +76 point differential sit one better than the Trojan’s +75.

Throw in Montel Harris’ 1355 yards and 13 touchdowns being more than anyone on the USC sideline as well as top Trojan back Joe McKnight being questionable thanks to some issues with his girlfriend’s car and maybe BC does have just a little more than a wing and a prayer.

That being said, there is no denying the Trojan’s potential after seven straight trips to a BCS game, so it wouldn’t be a bad thing if Spaziani found the perfect game plan lying gift-wrapped by Santa under his tree. You’d have to say that on paper, the Christmas season would have to favor the Catholic school. As you know though, games are never won on paper.

Cloudy With a Chance of Airballs

Even with glut of sports news I can get behind in the past few weeks including the Jets going from hot to not to hot steaming pile of poo, Jonathan Bender having the greatest recovery since Lazarus and Tiger Woods threatening to break sports single most untouchable record, Wilt Chamberlains 20,000 sexual conquests, the blogging has been lacking. Blame finals week, I had more important things to do, like giving the illusion of studying or writing papers. Still I made it down to Conte Forum to see Nick Masakowski and company run shit, or something like that.

So, BC basketball lost lost two in a row to local non-power conference teams. Oh no! The sky is falling! The levees are breaking! It’s a catastrophe! Give me Al Skinner’s head on a platter!

To quote everyone’s second favorite senile ESPN college football commentator, “Not so fast my friend!”

I’m all about rationalizing and placing blame and a lot of times that falls on the coach (if you can’t blame the refs that is). Hell, a small goal of mine as a sports journalist is to instigate a coach getting fired, it just seems like fun. This is not the time. The seemingly bi-weekly Skinner witch-hunt is in full swing at this moment, but I’m having none of it.

Why am I staunchly defending Skinner just a few weeks after being maybe the only basketball fan at BC to defend his “tight flex offense?” Is it because I like him as a person? Not exactly, every press conference I’ve been to with Al has been mostly bland with a few comments about the refs thrown in that have the media relations’ guy running to change his pants. Even so, I don’t feel Frank Spaziani is a great head football coach, and he was awesome to interview. Is it because I enjoy joking about Al and his assistant Bonzie Colson and the “Al Skinner Mirror Face” from his Eastern Clothing commercial? Ok yes, yes it is, but that’s not the only reason. So what is it you might ask?

1. We Beat Bryant!

Last season they were the Rhode Island based team to send large droves of fans up the commuter rail and out on the B-Line. BC won by 19. This year URI forced me to leave Conte Forum early for literally the first time ever. I've sat through all kinds of John Oates and Shamari Spears led disasters, but this was ugly. Well this year Bryant brought the sign of hope for the Eagles, more in the big ol' zero in the win column than anything else. And you know what? This year BC whooped dem Bulldgos by 26 and Al did something that you would never expect, he shook things up. To the bench went Josh Southern, he of 44 consecutive starts and Koy Detmer memorial beard, and in came sophomore Reggie Jackson. Yeah it's Bryant, but it worked! Corey Raji and Joe Trapani ran the floor and stretched the D where Southern would trail and take his perfunctory 2-3 elbow jumpers per game. BC outdid the Bulldogs by 19 on the boards and Southern still got 14 minutes. Lighting a fire under the best true big man on the roster while putting the most effective lineup on the floor? Never a bad idea.

2. We are Undefeated Against Power Conference Teams

As in no losses, zero. Three wins including over ACC foe Miami, effectively putting BC in a tie for the ACC lead with Florida State. I mean 1-0 vs Big 10, 1-0 vs Big East, 1-0 in the ACC is nice but how bout that 0-2 vs the A10, 0-1 vs the MVC and 1-1 vs the might Ivy League? Not as big as you'd think. Northern Iowa is the second rated team (Behind undefeated Missouri State) in a top 10 conference in the Missouri Valley. St. Joes and Rhode Island are both in the conference rated by the computer of the mighty Jeff Sagarin as the sixth best conference in College Basketball. You may be thinking, "Wait, aren't there six power or BCS conferences?" You are right, and the Atlantic 10 is actually BETTER than one of them and Rhode Island is 3rd in that conference and one of the countries top 40 teams according to Sagarin. And that pesky Harvard team? How bout the 50th best team in the country and they have one of the best point guards in the country in Jeremy Lin. How could we ever rationalize loses without you J-Sags?

3. We Did This Last Year

Actually it might have been worse. And that team made the tournament. They lost to Harvard when they were a year younger and without much of athleticism. Then they lost to Saint Louis, letting the Billikens take them down by the Big 10 scoreline of 53-50 in one of the ugliest games ever seen. This year the Crimson had more athleticism and Jeremy Lin ran train on Bico Paris, not a proud moment but even if you put that in the category of shouldn't have happened the losses weren't that bad. St. Joe's shot nearly 50% from the field and from deep and Northern Iowa shot 65%/55% and had Kwadzo Ahelegbe go nutty. When someone named Kwadzo goes 14-17 from the field for 32 points, you aren't winning that game. URI didn't miss on their first 6 threes and it wasn't all BC's poor closeouts, they were just on. Last year Harvard jumpstarted a 4 game losing streak for the Eagles. Then, they went on to win 6 of 8, including taking down Duke at Conte in the defining basketball moment of my time on the Heights. With the exception of walk-on Peter Rehnquist and new recruit Brady Heslip, who enrolled early, the entire team has been through these struggles. Rakim Sanders will knock the rust off, hopefully by the start of ACC play, and this team will be just fine. Yeah, these losses hurt the resume, but they aren't dead yet and South Carolina still comes to town for another chance for a resume victory.

Start making threes and free throws. Get the perimeter D shored up. Figure out a more effective way to break the press then having your point guard post up 90 feet from the hoop. Do this and maybe I'll stay on your side Al, unless you lose to Maine or NJIT, then we can pretend this never happened. Sound like a plan?

1,2, 3...DRAW

All week I've been building up to Friday, 12 PM EST. Why? Is it because I finally am done with the most painfully boring English discussion class I have? A little bit. Is it probably the one lunch a week I can get some of friends to pay for? Definitely. But that’s only scratching the surface.
Noon is the start of the World Cup. The day when handballs will be bygones, talk of a 33rd team is no more and 32 countries play an international “Pick 4” Lottery. Watching Sepp Blatter pull out ping-pong ball out of four pots? Sounds like a regular party right? Well keep in mind I’m one of those guys who dedicated 15 hours in a weekend to watch the NFL draft from the likes of Jamarcus Russell and Alex Smith all the way to Ramzee Robinson and Ryan Hoag (yes I knew two Mr. Irrelevant draft picks by heart, from Alabama and Gustuvus Aldolphus in case you were wondering, which you weren’t). Well this is even more exciting, not to mention shorter.
With the global and nationalist meaning behind the World Cup, the draw can make all the difference. You think a team like the Ivory Coast (Côte d'Ivoire as they would say, apparently there “is no translation”), who stopped a civil war for the Cup in 2006 wouldn’t love to be in a group with New Zealand and Slovenia over Mexico and France? Sure they relish a challenge but if it allows them to get to the knockout stages, they would be ecstatic.

It’s a lottery effecting literally billions, and its not exactly if its just one winner. The draw is just like the draft in that it gives hope to all 32 nations. Oh, and did I mention Charlize Theron is supposed to be involved in the proceedings?

Live blog it? Why not?

12:00:Why can I only see the first 30 seconds of Washington/Texas Tech basketball? If Bradon Roy and Nate Robinson still made up the backcourt it’d be a different story, but now I need to see some ping-pong balls. (Blogger's Note: Looking back the final few minutes of that game were far superior to 98% of the draw)
12:02: Bob Ley breaking out the commentary, ESPN breaking out the big guns.

And at this point I had to abandon the live blogging, all of two minutes in. Big headphones and a computer draw ridicule from even your friends when at lunch. Despite attempted media blackout I, as usual, failed but only found out the seeded team in the group for the USA. I won’t spoil it, unless some overwhelmingly witty title for this post came too mind and in that case, you will already have the surprise spoiled. Anyway, back to pseudo-replay live blogging, as I have not seen the actual telecast yet. Time-stamping will have to be abandoned in place of stamping just how far I am into the ESPN360 video.

1:00 – Gone was the Bob Ley I heard before replaced by some chick on a mountain. That’s right, a freaking mountain! At this point I expect all the pageantry of an Olympic Opening Ceremony, only inside a theatre. It could be epic.

3:00 – Well there goes that, production values have just dipped into PBS range. I hear a British announcer speaking softly under the audio of some dude playing a guitar. Then his appearance is on stage in front of a shot of scenery. They cut to him dancing and playing his guitar and the green screening and dancing all is too reminiscent of a commercial for a Wiggles sing-a-long.

4:00 – The native dancers are a nice touches even though the song they’re sounds like the least popular single on an album by Asia.

5:45 – The South African’s ace in the hole is certainly Nelson Mandela, a great an inspirational man. Plus he’s being played by Morgan Freeman in a movie, the man who is pretty much typecast as the voice of God. Enough said. His speech is likely one of the only times throughout this I will close the blog and make the video full screen on my computer.

8:00 – Well said by an aged Mandela on the importance of the World Cup coming to Africa, but the simultaneous British announcer is back. The in house announcer is showing all kinds of enthusiasm announcing Sepp Blatter and the South African President, Jacob Zuma. Sign this guy up for the AND1 African tour.

10:00 – President just predicted an African victory, followed by Blatter spitting some game at the hostess. “It’s easy to fall in love with Africa, when I see you. Definitely.” Get at me Sepp!

11:00 – Big focus on Africa getting their first World Cup. I’m not sure the long legacy of soccer on the whole continent after this, but it is definitely a big accomplishment for them.

13:00 – I’m not sure Blatter understands exactly when his points are supposed to be made. The Italian FA President is standing there waiting to return the return the trophy looking very confused as Blatter reads off the names supporting an education plan FIFA has presented for the world.

15:00 - Italian FA makes short statement, the forced use of English seems to have limited him, but expresses confidence in retaining the trophy. The beauty of the draw, right now every nation is confident. Though I do have to say President Zuma has one of the best laughs I’ve heard in a while.

16:00 – English is most likely not Blatter’s first language but he honestly seems incompetent. He did not know the World Cup was kicking off in Johannesburg. This man is the FIFA president, always good.

23:00 – A little kid in some “History of Football” piece just “mistook “a Brazilian player saying, “look, an African.” Not sure how that’s going to go over.

25:00 – The book they’re flipping through in the piece has videos on the pages. Show me a scrapbooking class that teaches you that.

28:00 – Always a redeeming endorsement of my major choice when a big part of FIFA’s development program in Africa is improving broadcasting.

30:00 –I see a microphone on this singer from Benin but I hear something that looks nothing like what her mouth is doing. She could be singing or could be even worse at hiding she is not than Ashlee Simpson. Remind me never to try and read the lips of singers from Benin again. At least we know that Africa’s musical taste is only 25 years behind the curve. Either that Raffi would still be an international sensation. (Blogger's Note: Didn't realize at the time the Raffi actually is from Africa. Crazy.)

34:00: Charlize Theron’s first appearance, definitely an improvement over her look from Monster. By far one of the most exciting parts of the pre-selection show, even though she seems unsure of exactly what she is saying and clearly know almost nothing about soccer.

38:00 – They keep calling out the random former players in the crowd but they say nothing and just smile for 2 seconds before going back to the stage.

39:00 – The mascot appears not to have gotten the memo about when he was to make his appearance. Ok, there he is, now on the stage looking more like a Robot Chicken sketch than good CGI. Though I am intrigued to see what happens when all this big African animals play soccer.

41:00 – This is looking like the most epic Budweiser Superbowl ad of all time. The Lion making a save and Zebra free kick wall were legit.

45:00 – I’m assuming that was the debut of the official match ball, and it is pretty legit. It also has a Zulu name, which I pretty sweet I guess.

47:00 – This montage of people in different professions can do nothing to convince me it’s not an advertisement for ITT Tech. At least they followed it up with their interpretation of what I can best tell is Guys and Dolls.

51:00 – Charlize said they won a Grammy. Way to go guys, but most importantly we finally have the “draw-master.” Nice and intimidating nickname, I wonder if that’s what his friends call him at home.

52:00 – “The Drawmaster” gets the double cheek kiss from Miss Theron and the crowd heckles him for it, very nice. Get some Drawmaster, get some.

1:01:00 – All the celebrities are out, personal favorite has to be Beckham coming out to Charlize’s, “Hey sweetheart.” Oh, Hollywood. Also the great John Smith will be drawing first.

1:04:00- After a lengthy explanation of rules an regulations that matter in some overly staged dialogue between the Drawmaster and Charlize which I will instead just link to, we finally have a team drawn and…what a shock! South Africa is team A1! Oh wait, that was already known? Well whatever. At least we have Ethiopian marathon runners in crazy white and gold outfits, and quite frankly, that’s all you need.

1:04:30 – Nothing matters much in the first pot drawing. Sure location matters, but I cannot know off the top of my head so thus its just naming groups at this point.

1:06:00 – Italy is in Cape Town first, finally I learn something!

1:07:00 – John Smith continues his luck and South Africa draws Mexico, by far the happiest team at this point, plus they draw the opening match as well.

1:08:30 – Maradona draws 2002 semi-finalist, South Korea. By far the stronger Korea. Two of the weaker teams are yet to come in this pot, Korea DPR and New Zealand.

1:09:00 – Throw the tea overboard, one if by land, two if by sea, its USA v. England AND it’s the opening match of Group C. Well if the US weren’t going to draw South Africa, very little mattered anymore, at least the toughest game is first before any more injury or Yellow Card trouble for them. The Drawmaster did just bring up the USA upset of England in 1950, but confused the hell out of Charlize in the meantime. Keep up with the smooth talk Mr. Drawmaster; it’s bound to work out. Between Captain Drawmaster and Sepp Blatter, the FIFA officials are doing some serious work.

1:10:00 – Australia to Germany and the Drawmaster continues to woo Charlize with his knowledge of previous World Cup groupings.

1:12:00 – New Zealand Italy, Charlize still craving more knowledge and the Drawmaster steps in a little closer. Brazil draws the Korea DPR and Honduras is going to Spain’s group, a repeat of 1982 the drawmaster tells us.

1:14:00 – Nigeria is draw and joins Korea and Argentina because South Africa cannot take an African team. Ivory Coast goes into group G for some reason and the USA/England lands Algeria, which is a nice relief as they appear the weakest African team not hosting the tournament, though the did defeat Egypt to get here, and that’s an accomplishment.

1:17:00 – Finally South Africa has a new opponent and its Uruguay. Charlize, now bored with the drawmaster, turned to Beckham as he draws the pot numbers. Ghana is now headed in with Australia and Germany. Potential group of death depending on Pot D team. France or Portugal and it is on.

1:18:00 – Cameroon is with Netherlands and all the African teams are drawn. Paraguay draws Italy and gets them to open as well. Chile is with Spain and Honduras and Charlize is non-responsive to the Drawmaster and his unending humor of their common Spanish language.

1:20:00 – The true telling of Group of Death is the second European team. France to South Africa and the hosts look dead in the water going into the tournament.

1:21:30 – The Greeks to Argentina’s group and it looks like a very well rounded group, as the music in the background grows more and more intense.

1:22:00 – The always-happy Ethiopian marathoner draws the US well, giving Group C Slovenia. Dangerous yes, but very young as well.

1:23:00 – Serbia to Germany’s group and that may well still be the death group. Denmark to the Dutch group, Slovakia to Italy, Portugal to Brazil and that has three top teams, and the North Koreans, it was nice having you. At least Kim Jong Il has a golf career to fall back on.

1:26:00 – The Swiss to Spain’s group and the draw is complete. Group D and Group G look toughest on first glance, but who knows come June.

1:28:00 – The two athletes actually in this world cup are diplomatic, though Boothe, the South African defender promises if nothing else a loud exit with 90,000 of those freaking horns. At least John Smith is as cocky as you could expect a rugby guy to be, claiming the South African group is tough, but “will provide good practice for the semi-finals and finals.” Got to love the modesty.

1:29:00 – The drawmaster, seeing his window of opportunity closing goes for the arm-around on Charlize with the response of an awkward laugh. Ouch. I hate to crash and burn with nobody watching. 200 million people? Now that’s a tough one.

1:30:00 – Charlize says “I’m going to take you with me,” completing the fantasy of the Drawmaster, who now has very little left to do with this world cup. At least he’s got the sweet nickname to keep him going.

FINE! If you’ve honestly slogged through the last 2100 or so words you deserve a prize. No really. I’ll have more detailed analysis of the World Cup later, but for right now nothing else much can be said. If you failed to follow that jibberish above here's a more easily digestible view of the groups. The Boys in the Stars & Stripes drew England but an otherwise favorable group and my other favorite team, Côte d'Ivoire drew what will undoubtedly go down as the Group of Death with Portugal and Brazil in addition to what is widely regarded as the strongest African side. North Korea looks dead in the water, but it their leaders athletic prowess can go untapped till his first round of golf you never know what magic they’ll find come June in South Africa.

I Accept Your Challenge BIg 10

As seen (sort of) in "Top of the Heights," sports blog for The Heights online

The Big 10 used some surprising upsets (Wisconsin over Duke, Illinois over Clemson) to take its first Big 10/ACC Challenge in the 11-year history of the event. To be honest, I’m pretty sure that the good people of Bristol, CT who have been trying to make this event happen are the only ones in New England who care about that little fact.

The rest of us further up north? Well I’d say we’re just happy Boston College could go out to Michigan, formerly of the top 15, and grab a much-needed victory. Apparently the Wolverines were no match for Northern Iowa’s output against the BC defense. Player of the year candidate Manny Harris? He’s no Kwadzo Ahelegbe. Sorry Coach Beilein, you’ve done a nice job turning around that program, but Kevin Pittsnogle is just not walking through that door.

After watching the Wolverines struggle against Marquette and Creighton, I spoke my piece of wisdom about how to beat Harris, DeShawn Sims and company. What those two teams did was spread the floor and make their outside jumpers. By stretching the defense the backdoor and inside cuts looked very, very open. But I guess that’s why Al Skinner has his Eastern Clothing endorsement deal and I don’t. Skinner took the ball to the teeth of the Michigan defense to the tune of 34 points in the paint. BC made just three three-pointers in the game and only one in the first half, just 40 seconds from the break.

Sure, Beilen had his team firing up 34 threes, but you don’t have to outshoot them to beat them. They made nine from deep to make it look close in the end but the 20-7 run to end the game was mostly cosmetic aside from one or two scary possessions with the difference just six. In the end you still ended up with a BC victory and the all too familiar Big 10 scoreline of 62-58. The four-point difference in the end really doesn’t do justice to the domination of the Eagles.

The patented flex offense didn’t look all that effective but plenty of other tight-motion plays that find themselves into Skinners playbook did and Corey Raji was just eating it up.

Raji has always been a threat on the offensive glass despite being just 6-foot-6 because of his nose for the ball and superior positioning underneath. In his first two years the biggest problem was his sometimes-strange inability to finish the easy ones (or bunnies as Steve Lavin would say). Sure he’s had flashes. A career high 26 against Maine. Single-handedly keeping the Eagles in the game against USC last March with his first half heroics. Even this year against Providence he went off for 12 points and nine rebounds in the first eight minutes. Problem was, after the first half, the defense keys in and suddenly his production doesn’t just drop, it disappears.

Maybe he turned the corner against Michigan. It wasn’t the same killer output he had in the first half, but he was still able to find the holes and most importantly, finish the easy ones in the second. His cuts on inbounds plays have lead to a handful of quick scores this year, something Skinner’s last few teams were often criticized for.

Sure he still shooting 33 percent from the free-throw line but nobody save Biko Paris and Josh Southern (85 percent Josh? Really? It has to be the beard, hell it works for Baron Davis and Randy Moss) is having much success there right now for the Eagles.

The key for Raji will be what can he do when teams realize he’s on the court before halftime? Will he still be able to produce?

Following the game Wednesday, Skinner compared Raji to BC great Jared Dudley for his ability to feel the game on offense without having the play called for him. Raji may never be the player Dudley is, but if he can take the next step toward that, he could be a very dangerous weapon for the Eagles.

Following his freshman season there was the debate. Who was the next BC star, Raji or Rakim Sanders? It was split surprisingly more even than you might think. Then last year Sanders took that next step, making two buzzer beaters and generally being the team’s second option, while Raji was just there to mop up the offensive glass. Now with Sanders out, Raji may be taking that step himself. It just took him that one extra year.

Shay It Ain't So

Great stories are made by the heroes and the villains. Then there is the France v. Ireland Word Cup playoff match. Damien Duff WAS the hero. Robbie Keane WAS the hero.

Then Thierry Henry flicked the ball to William Gallas to give France the win and he became the hero. Only Henry handled the ball illegally...twice.

Suddenly Henry's no longer the hero he's the villain. Martin Hansson did what every referee wants to avoid, he was noticed. Hansson too, became a villain. French Coach Raymond Domenech? Well he became one of the biggest villains/assholes, denying what millions had seen in person and TV land.Duff, Keane and the Rest of Ireland? No longer heroes, they had been forced to be the victims. The story now had no heroes at all.

Maybe the scorn isn't as great where the non-English-speaking media reins supreme (score one for freedom of the press), but that didn't stop the outcry from reaching France and Sweden. Both Henry and Hansson claimed to seriously reconsider their career choices in the aftermath. They both denied blame, to varying degrees of success, but ultimately realize that while they did their best they were to blame for the outcome, Henry for handling the ball, Hansson for missing the obvious call.

While Henry showed much humility, well at least much more than Diego Maradona after his famous "Hand of God", as we have yet been spared any gloating, self-inflicted nicknames for Henry's actions, his coach did not follow suit.

Domenech has been less than classy, going so far as the deny that the handball seen round the world even took place in his post-match press conference. Henry himself admitted to his action in his own conference, but Domenech was no going to have any of it. Henry told the referee it was indeed a handball and stuck consoled the dejected Irish team after the match ended.



Does his compassion and self-deprecation make Henry immune from blame for the incident? I'd argue it doesn't but at the same time he should not be made out the be the horrific villain and cheat he has been painted as.

Did he handle the ball? Undeniably, yes. Did he report his misdeed to the referee in time for it to rectified on the pitch? No, of course not. Does this make him into the Irish FA's version of Satan? I'd have to hope not.

While constant slow-mo and super-slow-mo iterations of the replay can be seen from multiple angles you can argue what ever you want about the handball. While from the camera behind the end line it is obvious that he touches it twice in succession before flicking it on to Gallas for the goal to clinch a trip to South Africa, you cannot assume it was something Henry thought about doing. Sure, the synapses of a top-tier professional athlete may fire a bit quicker under pressure than say, your average blogger, but the time it took for the ball to come up on him, it would be next to impossible for Henry to make the conscious decision that yes, yes I will cheat in an attempt to score a goal right here, right now.

Henry even called for the match to be replayed after the fact, something FIFA was having none of. It was widely known that a replay was the only fair way to award a Irish team that outplayed the French team on the own soil. It was an inspired effort from a team maligned for its result in the opening game of the two-match tie. Giovanni Trapattoni was under fire for defensive tactics that kept his team in games but left little room for comebacks.

Enter Duff and Keane and their link-up on the first goal. Suddenly the dream was possible. They could not only play with the French, heck, they could be better than them! If only they could have something every kid who's played whiffle ball knows about, a do-over. Brimming with confidence after a game they felt should have at the very least gone to penalties, Ireland assistant Liam Brady was ready to challenge his boys to go out do what before that day seemed impossible...again.

"This game should be replayed and we'll go to Paris to play it," Brady told reporters.

The call for the replay didn't stop with the coaches of the losing team or even Henry. Trapattoni may not have called for one but the Irish Justice minister did.

"Millions of people worldwide saw it was a blatant double handball, not to mention a double offside [bloggers note: I didn't even get into that, but yeah, that happened too]. We should put the powers that be in the cosy world of FIFA on the spot and demand a replay,” said Dermot Ahern.

The Taoiseach (That's Ireland's Government Leader, apparently. English titles are overrated on the Emerald Isle) Brian Cowen even wanted to discuss the matter with French President Nicolas Sarkozy before being thwarted by François Fillon's warning as reported by the London Times. Domenech likewise denied calls for a replay, something that if he had done would have push FIFA president Sepp Blatter's hand just a little bit more.

Lost in this suddenly political conflict full of hooligan government types and re-hashed recession talk was the craziest and most unique idea of the story, the importance of a game. Every sports writer picks a time to mention the transcendent nature of sports, and this is my stand. Well, it's probably the first of many, but while it's not exactly my Little Bighorn, the remarkable power of this story is awe inspiring.

How often can such a subtle movement as Henry's handball was send all corners of the world into pandemonium?

That is the power of the World Cup for you. One of the more incredible things about it is the fact that its not always anger. Yeah, the Irish have every right to be angry but look at them after the handball. Its not anger. Shock. Disbelief. Agony. All these are more applicable.

Take a look at Shay Given as he and his teammates appeal to Hansson with all they have to give them the rightful handball. Now, put me in Given's shoes and it might just be pure anger. If the Boston College refs were as qualified as Hansson or say Dick Bavetta I'd have a rap sheet in the intramural office of yellow cards and technical fouls as long as Paradise Lost. But, I feel like I just don't understand what its like being on that stage...no really, I don't. Desperation, not anger is what Given shows to one of the two least popular men in Ireland these days.

Ireland was eliminated unfairly, and everyday till they start the next qualification campaign will be tainted with the image of Henry's "Hand of Frog." But even as haunted as Henry is, facing scorn even in his own country, it can't be taken away from him now that he lead is country to the World Cup. The Irish and maybe even the French may not not believe the best team won, but the show of heart on both sides at the peak of competition is something both countries can take pride in.

Flexing Their Muscles

There comes a time when even the seemingly indefensible must be defended. Just ask Bill Belichick.

Him and the spin machine that allows the Patriots to sign the likes Randy Moss, Brandon Meriweather and Corey Dillon, run up the score in a 16-0 season, and have stories like this come out but STILL be know as a high character team have been working overtime making fourth and two from their own 29 look like the right decision. The Boston Globe even took the time to find some mathematician that would say good ol’ Bill made the right call.

Belichick can say whatever he wants. He was wrong. Deep down even he has to know. It’s a chink in the Pats armor I’ve long been waiting to see as a Jets fan.

Sometimes though, the argument isn’t quite so cut and dry. Take Boston College basketball. For over the past decade that’s meant Al Skinner. It’s meant stoic sideline demeanor. It’s meant season opening suspensions. It’s meant suits from Eastern Clothing. And most importantly, it has meant the flex offense.

When Jared Dudley and Craig Smith were working the tight cuts, down screens and baseline motion to perfection, it was a sight to behold.

The last two seasons have been a little more barren in terms of the production. Tyrese Rice could put the ball in the hoop with the best of them, but knuckling down and grinding down 34 seconds on the shot-clock so that a big man can come from block-to-block for a wide open lay-up? That wasn’t Ty.Well not really, it still looks the same but hey, it put the ball in the basket and that’s really what matters.

It’s not a knock on Rice. He was the best player on a young team, the unquestioned leader. Skinner had to change things up for his star. With that, the flex took its lumps. Honestly, who can blame the critics? Which is more fun to watch, a succession of crisp back cuts, or Rice draining two three-pointers from roughly a quarter-mile a way before jawing at the courtside cameraman? Yeah, I thought so.

With nothing changing for BC besides Rice not having the ball, this could be the team to bring back the heyday of the flex for Skinner.

Biko Paris is no Tyrese, but that might be a good thing. Paris’ role has been the media talking point of the late offseason, so I’ll spare you that, but he’s a distributor who can handle the ball and settle the offense down.

You have Paris at the point and Josh Southern, well do what he does to the tune of 7 and 6, but that’s not where the flex is made. It’s made with the ability to create mismatches.

With the two through four spots, that’s what the Eagles have. The number of 6-foot-5, 230-pound shooting guards, even in the ACC? Minimal. But that’s what BC has in Rakim Sanders. With the ball being worked down low so much in the flex, Sander’s ability to body people down low is so important to the offense. Since most guards will need help, Sanders can look to kick and that’s where having a big man like Joe Trapani stretching the floor comes in handy. While his man goes into the post to help with Sanders, Trapani can leak and suddenly, the flex offense can look just a little pretty.

Throw in the pure rebounding instinct of Corey Raji being kept close to the hoop by the tightness of Skinner’s flex and suddenly, hey, this jut might work.

When you think about it like that, the flex doesn’t sound so bad does it? I guess all Belichick needed was two. And all Skinner needed was the right players.

Not Quite Azteca...But It Will Do

As seen in the October 22, 2009 edition of The Heights, the Independent Student Newspaper of Boston College

Imagine fans more "smashed" on a whole than any pre-game tailgate you'll find on Shea Field, drinking enough tequila to bring LenDale White back to his old playing weight. Now imagine 105,000 of them screaming and chanting for two hours without a break.

Welcome to Estadio Azteca.

The go-to home ground for the Mexican national soccer team blows Michigan-Ohio State out of the water. I'm not calling the prototypical college football rivalry tame, but I doubt Terrelle Pryor will be looking over his shoulder this year in case a flare or bag of urine is coming his way. And that's without Azteca's barbed-wire fence.

Azteca is one of the most feared venues in the world. The noise is nearly unbeatable when the "El Tri" steps onto the field.

Mexico has Azteca. England has Wembley. Even Costa Rica has its national stadium in San Jose, with a field that makes the Astro Dome turf look like the sprawling fairways of Bethpage Black. Then the United States has…?

Maybe Giants Stadium? I was there for the Gold Cup this year and can guarantee the Mexican fans outnumbered those in Red, White, and Blue at least six or seven to every one.

How about Soldier Field in Chicago? When the U.S. last played there, its opponent - less than impressive Honduras - drowned out the American support.

Then comes the last game of qualifying for the World Cup. The United States had already clinched its trip to South Africa 2010, and its opponent for the evening, Costa Rica, had to win to avoid a home-and-home with Uruguay to clinch its place in the Mecca of international team sports, the World Cup (sorry, Olympics).

It's the type of situation where both players and fans phone-in their effort, preferring not to leave the couch and risk an injury, to sit in the stands in an unnaturally cold October. Still, the U.S. had to suit up and walk onto the field in Washington, D.C.'s RFK Stadium last Wednesday.

Head coach Bob Bradley may want to ask the USSF to move there permanently. The crowd was loud and vibrant in support of the Americans. Signs honoring injured striker (and former BC player) Charlie Davies hung from the lining walls, and the ESPN cameras had no shortage of "super fans" to show during breaks in the action.

Chants of "When the Yanks come marching in," which had been virtually silenced by Mexican support in my trip to the Meadowlands, were clearly audible hundreds of miles away through the television. It was what the U.S. had lacked for so long, a downright home-field advantage.

The U.S. team celebrated in front of its fans after the game like it had just won its very own World Cup. They were leaping around applauding the support of their compatriots.

Tim Howard, the veteran stalwart in front of the goal, was jumping around, hanging on his teammates with a massive smile. It conjured up images of Thomas Claiborne's celebration in front of the BC student section after the Eagles beat Va. Tech last season.

The ensuing field-storming after that victory - probably uncalled for and the sole reason there are now a small army of staties awaiting a lone zealot following a win over the likes of Northeastern - did not happen at RFK, but the mutual admiration of the effort on the field and in the stands was the same.

The scene looked similar to the U.S. upset of Spain, by far the biggest victory the national team had since it defeated England, the home of soccer (a.k.a. Association Football) … in 1950.

The best part about the RFK experience? The U.S didn't even win.

Jonathan Bornstein netted a header in the 95th minute to tie the game 2-2. The crowd may have been looking for a victory, but at that moment, a draw was all it needed. The lone point taken from the game was enough to assure that the stars and stripes would finish tops in the group, just ahead of Mexico. Meanwhile, Costa Rico, arguably the second biggest rival the U.S. has, was forced to book a round trip ticket to Montevideo for the chance to join Howard and company in South Africa.

If Bradley's team is really going to take the next step and become a true force the world away, that is the kind of support it needs.

Sure, there are some crazy people - yours truly included - who would relish the chance to sit so far up in the nosebleed that there isn't even a word for it just to say they saw the U.S. play at Azteca. Personal police escort included.

The team can't expect a crowd like that to be waiting for them when the suit up in Johannesburg or Bloemfontein, but if the U.S. knows a it has a crowd like the one it had at RFK is behind it back home, it just might be enough.

Welcome to the Sanch-ize

As seen in the September 14, 2009 edition of The Heights, the Independent Student Newspaper of Boston College

Everyone makes mistakes. The weatherman will predict sunny skies only for it to pour. Sometimes. Mel Kiper will mess up in his seven-round mock draft. Occasionally. Even Chuck Norris didn't catch the bad guys the first time around. He needed a whole hour-long time slot.

This is where I have to admit I made a mistake. I thought Mark Sanchez would be a bust. When the Jets traded up to grab him I was the only Jet fan I knew who didn't immediately develop a man crush on the quarterback from USC. Even my friend who threw a remote through a wall when the Jets took Darelle Revis - now a premier NFL corner - was in love with Sanchez. But much like Mark McGwire, I am certainly not here to talk about the past.

It may be too early, scratch that, it is definitely way too early to anoint Sanchez the second coming of Joe Namath. He's played one game and scored as many points for the Jets as the Texans, his interception being returned all the way for a score. There was just something in his performance that made me feel a little bit better about him.

It was the same feeling that emanated from Chad Pennington's first few games. Both were quick to sprint up and down the field following the play and offer congratulations. Both had an intensity and a willingness to stand in a take a hit that young quarterbacks normally lack. Pennington was also quick to head butt his offensive lineman to get himself pumped up before the game, but something tells me that is not a part of Sanchez's preparation. That's the difference between being from a school in rural West Virginia - Pennington's Marshall Thundering Herd - versus Los Angeles and the mighty USC Trojans.

He made throws on the run, he made them in the pocket, he stepped up into space, and he even showed some fancy footwork on play action.

He may still be a bust, but I feel confident enough to say that in the debate of Sanchez versus Matthew Stafford, he isn't playing Ryan Leaf to the former Georgia QB's Peyton Manning.

Could my recent change of heart toward the rookie be due to the fact that I hated the pick of Kellen Clemens - the man who Sanchez beat out for the starting gig - even more than Sanchez? A little - it doesn't hurt to have one of the football teams I follow be able to write their depth chart in pen every weekend, and after today I don't think that will change any time soon.

I'd also like to thank the former Jets quarterback who recently unretired. I don't think anyone wants to read his name in the paper again, so I'll give him the Voldermort treatment, but without his soap opera I don't think I'd appreciate the stability that having a quarterback of the future brings to a team.

Stability at a position like QB is as important as anything else, both for the team and for the fan base. Sure the proverbial "water cooler" debate won't be as heated as if you have two guys going out there and laying it on the line every day in practice and complacency may not always be the best thing, but the positives far outweigh the negative.

Think about the past few years at Boston College. Faith in Matt Ryan is a given, but even compare the past two seasons. Chris Crane was an overall mediocre game manager save channeling Frank Tarkenton or Johnny Unitas against NC State, but he was the quarterback. People called for Dominique Davis, at least until he had to play and everyone wanted Crane back.

This year, it was Davis who was almost certainly the starter and with everything else going on with the program he would at least provide someone to rally behind. But when he transferred, yet another facet of the team was thrown into uncertainty. After early returns - granted they were against Kent State and Northeastern - it looks like Justin Tuggle or Dave Shinskie just might be better than Davis, but so much is reliant upon someone being that number one guy.

Even in the era of the wildcat, the importance of one man behind center is paramount.

With Sanchez at the wheel, the Jets can at least head into a single and certain direction. He could be the next Marino. He could be the next Danny Wuerffel. Even crazier, he could be the first Mark Sanchez.

No matter what, it is clear that he will get the chance be that and nobody will be challenging him.

Let's just hope the man crush lasts.

Thus Quoth the Ravens...We Need to See More

Everyone reading this should consider themselves lucky to go three months of reading a blog by a Jet's fan without reading a single word about Mark Sanchez. Well, your luck has just run out.

After debating both with other Jets fans and with myself over my feelings on Sanchez, I finally could just give up and let his play on the field sway my opinion. Yeah, it IS preseason, but it's still against the Ravens and it beats the hell out of 7-on-7 drills. When the most you had to fear in drills was the coach's whistle, facing a 250-pound man who was at one point accused of double homicide charging at you full speed is a slightly different animal. I mean literally animal. Does this look like someone you want to mess with?

So after one real half of play from the Golden Boy, what do we really know? Not much of anything.

He came out looking shaky. He was drilled by Ray Lewis and threw a pick on his first throw. It was taken all the way to the house for seven. By this guy. For those of you wondering, that guy is Haloti Ngata, coming in at 6-foot-4 an a svelte 345 pounds.

The resounding opinion in the air as Sanchez walked back to the huddle his next time out was, "sure, he'll bounce back."

A pass that then should have been taken back for six by Ray Lewis thankfully hit the turf and the doubters were one. But even against the Raven's D, Rex Ryan's young quarterback showed a little bit of moxie.

It wasn't quite as great as his first career snap, (I really enjoy that the kid who had such a well versed reaction to the toss had a camera on it the first time watching the game. Just chillin', watching the Jets and filming your television. No big.) but he came back and on his last snap of the day, Sanchez had a souvenir to take home other than some aches and pains. His first career touchdown pass, a 17-yarder to Leon Washington.

Now 3-of-8 for 43 yards, 1 touchdown and 1 pick will not get you in the Hall, unless your Joe Namath of course, but it wasn't as bad as that first throw might make you think. Rex Ryan may be making his decision on a starter sooner rather than later, but I might need just a wee bit more time, and really, isn't it the seldom read blogger's opinion that actually matters?

My Bad...

Brett Favre is back again. From this point on he will be known as "He Who Shall Not be Named." Sorry Voldermort, you can put sweet scars on magical babies heads all you want, but Fav-re is now the Dark Lord, at least in Wisconsin. But hey, at least Voldermort was able to provide some veteran leadership for Rajon Rondo.

While Number 4 may be taking Voldermorts title, the best comparison for Green Bay's Benedict Arnold may be another literary Sci-Fi great, Gollum from Lord of the Rings. His inability to led go of the "Ring of Power" (i.e. 20 interception seasons), keeps bringing him back again and again. I remember hearing my first Favre retirement story. I was 12. Now I'm about to go into my junior year of college. Enough said.

It's Over....maybe

Brett Favre retired today. That's really nice, because it's been a while since I heard about that guy. He plays quarterback right? Or does he just wear wrangler jeans and drive a pickup? I just can't be sure anymore.


In other news at the top of the hour on Sportscenter, Roy Halladay has NOT been traded, no new offers have materialized and he did not pitch today. More to come on this breaking story...

Deja Vue All Over Again

Mark Buehrle is known for his consistency and making quick work of opponents. Eric Cooper (whom wikipedia tells me wears the same number as Buehrle, 56...freaky) must now also be considered a monster of consistency. Cooper was the plate umpire for both of of Buerhle's no-hitters. Crazy right, his zone must be perfect for Mark. BUT WAIT! There's more! Both games lasted a paltry 2 hours, 3 minutes with the minimum number of batters faced.

As with many no hitters, Buehrle's will be remembered for the one remarkable highlight reel defensive play made to preserve it. DeWayne "Don't call me Dwayne" Wise robbed Gabe Kapler of a soul crushing home run to lead-off the ninth, making Kapler into a small trivia footnote on the game. As the announcer called it, one of the greatest catches he'd ever seen...under the circumstances.

Lets be honest, it was a greaaattt catch. Fan-tastic. Phe-nominal. Mag-nanimous. But if Kapler hits that in an 8-4 game six innings earlier, does anyone other than John Kruk really notice? Maybe, but they probably don't care. It's all about the situation. As far as pure greatness of catches go, I'd argue Jim Edmonds has a half dozen catches that are more spectatular than Willie Mays catch if you are looking at them in a vacuum. Some might point out the jump Mays got on the ball and the quick throw, I know, I know. I hold Willie Mays to very high esteem, even though he's Barry Bonds' godfather, but that catch was made greater by the fact it was in the World Series, in a tie game, in the 8th, on a ball that would have been out of 9 of 10 ballparks. Edmonds has a few choice plays in big situations, but on a grand scale they are largely meaningless.

One of the better football catches I've seen belongs to Aaron Moorehead when he was on the Colts. Great, except it was from Jim Sorgi in the preseason, home of corners who already have been kicked off "4th and Long." I've seen Brian Giles pull a ball pack from three rows deep in the left field stands. Problem was, it was for the Pirates and the year wasn't 1991, so nobody cared. Sport's aren't played in a vacuum. Wise's catch, though not on the scale of Mays', came at a big moment and allowed history to happen. We all know baseball fans are suckers for history. He was a defensive replacement who saved a perfect game in the ninth inning. He even added the bobble for style points.

Stuart's Little Goal

So I missed ANOTHER USA Soccer game. Two actually. This time though, it's honestly not my fault. You can blame James Dolan. As a New York sports fan I often find myself doing that very same thing. He trades for a permanently concussed Eric Lindros (think Blake Griffin on skates, but not in a Manute Bol way), refuses to fire Isiah Thomas after, well, I mean, you're better of reading this:

March 2004 - Thomas refuses to sign renewal-request letters sent out to past season-ticket holders and tells Anucha Browne Sanders, "Bitch, I don't give a f--- about these white people."

And that was over 18 months before he had a sexual assault charge filed against him by the same woman. Well Dolan was behind that man holding on to one the the NBA's highest profile jobs, but his worst thing in my eye is what his day job, as head of Cablevision, does to my sports viewing. I have many qualms with the company, but frankly I just know you don't care, except that I was relegated to watching the third game of US Soccer's Gold Cup run on my computer. In Spanish. From a ghetto stream. And it was awesome.

Though I only saw the last 20 minutes of the game it was worth the many moments where I was lost in translation. I couldn't understand that the announcers were saying the word "ball" for about 15 minutes, but hey, the word goal is the same, plus their announcers take JP Dellacamera to school when the ball finds the back of the net. I kept tabs of the score before I tuned in and when the US was up 1-0 despite having some of their best training in Europe and was giving all the backups from a team already regarded as the National "C" team a chance to start, it looked over. I mean to be perfectly honest, Haiti just isn't that good.

Regardless of skill, four minutes after the break Haiti was up 2-1. I simply had to watch now. Tuning in at such a late stage, it was still clear that the US dominated, but they just didn't have what it took to finish. Suddenly, with the game at the behest of the referee and the clock ticking down (or up, crazy soccer clock rules!), the MLS' own Stuart Holden struck an absolutely killer shot that gave the keeper no chance on its way to the upper 90.

Goal. Or should I say, GOOOAL, GOOOAL, GOOOAL, GOOOAL, GOOOAL, GOOOAL...yeah, that just happened.

Despite meaning relatively little as a USA vs. Mexico Gold Cup Final is virtually assured, it gave me promise that maybe, just maybe, Holden could be the guy to unseat my least favorite US National teamer, Sacha Kljestan. Replace Kjlestan's Sasha Vujacic-esque head band with some sweet spike/bleached hair. It takes a real man to frost his tips.

Though Holden did try to silence the home crowd after his tying goal. I mean the game is in Foxboro, Massachusetts. I'm pretty sure Boston is not run amok with Haitians, so its safe to assume silence was not actually what he wanted. Let's hope he's just warming up for his antics in South Africa.

Daniel Murphy's Law

The Met's suck. I think I just have to admit it. I've already endured multiple jokes from friends about following a minor league baseball team, and, well actually that's just about it. My friends apparently aren't too original with their insults after they find one they like.

Well regardless of the comedic genious of 20-year-old Yankee fans, the Met's season hit an all time low last night. Sportscenter ran their usual "Not Top 10 Plays" and the realization set in. Now appearing in this countdown is embaressing yes, but lets be honest, it happens. Everyone awkwardly flubs a grounder, or trips over their own feet, but this countdown was different. The Met's didn't just find one of their lowlights in the Top 10. They didn't even have two or three, that would be far too kind. No the New York Metrapolatins had their very own "Not Top 10" dedicated to their ineptitude. The young Mr. Daniel Murphy making errors at multiple positions, but at least he didn't botch a 3-2-1 double play like defensive replacement Jeremy Reed when he airmailed a 75 foot throw. That's not to say he didn't try, botching 3 of the Top 10 himself!

The one saving grace is this countries copyright laws as the video of this countdown has vanished into an underground cavern somewhere in the bustling Metropolis that is Bristol, Connecticut. It has been removed from everywhere I could look without finding myself on a government watchlist, and I can't say I'm too torn up about it. Still, just knowing it happened might be bad enough.

I thought an low had been reached when a celebration had already been started at the end of the first Yankee/Met game as a "harmless" pop-up floated over to Luis Castillo with two outs in the ninth. Then it drifted. And it drifted some more. Suddenly, it was clanging as much as leather-on-leather can clang (insert bizzare bondage joke here), off the heel of Castillo's glove and to the ground as two Yankee runs crossed home plate changing a one run lead and a gaurenteed win into a written in the books one run loss for the Mets. Ouch, now that hurt.

Castillo will recover. Murphy will hopefully figure it out, Maybe First Base IS the answer. But just knowing that the material is there for that top 10, and it's NOT a stretch...Welcome to beautiful Citi Field, home of the Binghamton Mets!

G is for Gluttony

What could be a more American spectacle than large, beer drinkin' dudes slammin' back massive quantities of Nathan's hot dogs? Oh, that's right, it's much more American to have the smaller more efficient Japanese version come in a do the twice as well.

When Kobayashi came on and doubled the previous record, it was on. Kobayashi was in and guys nicknamed Badlands Cookie were on their way out. Nathan's had lucked into a cash cow only America and the Fourth of July could produce and out of nowhere, people cared about competitive eating. Suddenly some distant cousin of fame got the the Japanese wonders head. He suddenly became jacked and decided he could stomach just that many more hot dogs if his hair looked like something Bjork would wear to the Grammy's. Suddenly hear comes Joey Chestnut.
On July 4, 2007, America reclaimed the title belt. Chestnut has beaten Kobayashi! The announcers treated it like such a event that it required it's own holiday, seperate from that of America's independence. It was refered to as "the greatest event in sport's history," and Joey Chestnut was described as "a true American hero."

That was when competitive eating really took off. I even found myself watching the World Series of Competitive Eating, broadcast from where else but Las Vegas. Then, even after a more legendary showing that saw the two titans embroiled in an "eat-off," it hit me, wow these guys are just freaks. Maybe it came when I myself entered an eating competition and downed six dogs. One of my friends took the 6th dog to the last bite before a "reversal of fortune" cost him. That was half a dozen dogs. Now imagine that....plus 60. In 10 minutes. Gross right?

Nevermind, that just sounds delicious...

Not Exactly Finland...

...then again Spain isn't exactly the USSR either. Zapatero isn't exactly Brezhnev either. In fact, I'd say the win in the finals of the 2009 Confederations Cup would be bigger (not in the global power struggle kind of sense, but you know the niche soccer fan sense) than the follow up to Miracle on Ice.

The US Hockey victory over Finland is one of the greatest footnotes in the history of sports. When "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" hasn't been beaten to death by ABC and Regis was still there, a question worth either $250,000 asked the contestant to name who the US beat in that Gold Medal game. Ask who the US beat in the Miracle on Ice? Lucky to be worth more than $1000, even on the dumbed down version of the show that competed with "Once Life to Live" and "The View" for an audience.

How the 2009 Confederations Cup goes down in US Soccer lore remains to be seen, but one thing is for certain. The good guys lost....unless your from Brazil, then get the hell off my blog and go celebrate in Rio. Actually, you can stay, it's not like anyone else will be reading.

This game I made sure I did not miss a single second of the game. If the USA was going to beat the nation that is one of the greatest footballing nations of all-time, I would be watching. I mean it would be by myself from a quite comfortable position on my couch, but it would have taken a natural disaster somewhere within a 100 feet of me to interrupt my private viewing party. I was taking no chances.

What me, myself and I witnessed was something out of a fairytale for the first 45 minutes. After Brazil held the ball up in the USA third of the field, the Red, White and Blue broke out the patented counter-attacking that brought them through past Spain. Right-Back Jonathan Spector curled a ball in, Clint Dempsey was on the end of it and millions of soccer fans across the globe just pinched themselves just 10 minutes into the final.

The US looked the better side for a spot after their goal, but there was no one denying Brazil's brilliance. Well, actually there wasn't no one, there were five of them. The back line and the undeniably awesome Tim Howard did not give anything up. Any ball that wasn't cleared out was parried or held by the Everton keeper.

Suddenly, with Brazil looking content to hold the ball up and slowly work their way in, got sloppy. Landon Donovan stole the ball in the US third and embarked on the greatest US journey since Lewis & Clark, BC guy Charlie Davies being his expedition partner. After the two's give-and-go, the ball was on Landycakes left foot and he calmly slotted home past Cesar.

At this point I could have been considered for a one-way ticket to a white-padded room I was so giddy. Did I mention I was watching the game solo?

As I mentioned, as did this guy, the back line was unstoppable in the first 45, and Spector was showing the world what Sir Alex Ferguson saw in the young American in what was his first game in defense.

But alas, all good things must come to an end, and a Luis Fabiano strike came barely a minute into the second half. The Americans continued to push but it just wasn't happening again.

The Brazilians finally tied the game in the 61st, but remarkably the score remained 2-1 USA as Howard saved the ball from within his own goal but neither the linesman nor the referee was able to see it. Ahh the beauty of the pace of a game versus slow motion.

Despite the stroke of luck, the Miracle on Grass round 2 was not to be as Fabiano made it a brace for him and tied the score in the 74th. Any other day and I am ecstatic of the Sevilla man's scoring knack but come on man! Your just torturing me now! And a golden boot to, well, boot!

At this point it was always to be seen the result. The US hold on for the next 16 minutes and then Brazil have 30 more in extra-time. Maybe it goes to the US if they can force penalties, but when you go from 2-0 up to playing for penalties in less than an hour, it is not looking very good. Of course Lucio obliged, heading home the winner in the 85th as Howard was left powerless.

Sure the result didn't go the way the cliche that is American Soccer fans wanted and the USA was denied their first FIFA championship....ever, but for the first time I will advocate the moral victory. The Stars and Stripes prevailed over the reigning European Champions and dominated the number one team in the world for 45 minutes.

If the US can keep the nucleus together, this kind of experience and unity could just maybe be just what they need for international success. The next trip to South Africa will be the true test.

Draft Diary 0.1 and Draft Thoughts

So I managed to get in just under a half hour of live draft diary before all hell broke loose in my house and I was forced to abandon my endeavour. Have no fear, there will be more Live blogging to come in the future! Anyway here is the exactly 1/6 of the draft that I did blog on, and unlike Bill Simmons I spent no time lamenting Michael Jackson (this will have to do).

9:00 - Sorry about the delay with the diary. I was too busy crying and plotting trying to pull out Jordan Hill’s dreadlocks. Austin Daye went with the first non-lottery pick to the Pistons. He is the absolute opposite to the forwards taken by the Pistons recently (think Jason Maxiell). He’s only 190 pounds and tries to hide it with some baggy sleeves but hey, Jay Bilas likes his length, so he’s got that going for him.

9:03 - Who knew the sweater vest was making a comeback in Spokane? Thank you Mr. Daye. Maybe Adam Morrison could rock that on the sideline. It would really compliment his budding barely pubescent facial hair.

9:07 - Jeff Van Gundy brings up an interesting point. Tayschaun Prince and Austin Daye together? The Detroit Pistons, helping even the gender disparity in eating disorders since 2009.

9:08 - YES! First pick I nailed outside the lottery with James Johnson to the Bulls. If only someone beside Jay Bilas knew he was a martial artist from Wyoming he would have been top 10. The Bulls automatically gain an advantage in the next bench-clearing brawl.

9:11 - Steve Kerr plays coy on the Amare trade rumours. Does this surprise anyone? If a GM was not vague in a live draft interview he’d be out the door before the next team was off the clock.

9:13 - Somehow Jrue Holliday was the last guy in the green room before the 76ers got him. Austin Daye was by far the favorite coming into this thing while Holliday was a possible top 10 guy.

9:15 - Even the first thing that Holliday mentioned was defense. Holliday may never be the offensive player he looked to become but he should be able to shut down the rest of this bumper crop of point guards.

9:18 - Ty Lawson to Minnesota. Well apparently three point guards are needed to get the ball to Al Jefferson. And I thought they got rid of Kevin McHale? All this talk of so many trades. This better be the signal of one to come or poor Al’s gonna be quadruple teamed.

9:20 - There it is. Apparently Lawson headed to Nuggets. Lawson behind Billups? I like the sound of that, Lawson will probably be so much better learning from Billups tan having to go somewhere and handle the ball more

9:23 - Calling Jeff Teague? I guess I just know those Wake Guys. With Claxton and Law gone this is a good spot for Teague. Bibby is also a shoot first guard so Teague can refine his ability to overlook teammates and fire threes.

9:27 - Come on Utah don’t let me down with goofy white guys. Here it is…BOOO. Eric
Maynor, so no Mullens, how sad. Him and Kosta Koufos could have been the greatest 7
foot white former Ohio State center combo ever. That is not a title to be taken lightly.

At that point, just 27 minutes in I was unable to continue with my diary, but I was able to jot down a few notes:


Welcome to the NHL
You just have to love how all the international guys show up out of the crowd. Its reminiscent of the one hockey draft I watched where random eastern Europeans just appeared out of the crowd to receive congratulations from the teams that would eventually employ them. Nando de Colo, Jonas Jerebko, Henk Norel, Rodrique Beaubois, and Christian Eyenga (Division two in Spain? Officially the most random first round pick in history) were all in the house to great either David Stern or Adam Silver. Stern seemed actualy surprised to see 6'8" guys strolling out of the crowd while Silver actually seemed to enjoy that the guys wanted to come greet him.

ESPN Must Improve...Graphics
In both the NFL and NBA drafts the analysts try and highlight the weakness' 0f the top prospects taken by teams. They both present some doosies that would make the needs to improve seem like if anyone could improve such a trait, they too would be spoken of during the NBA draft. For example, Nick Calethes must improve his lateral quickness and Danny Green must improve his athleticism. I'm pretty sure one is born with those traits. If Green could improve his athleticism, he would, but its not so easy as a few hundred shots in the gym or a couple of wind sprints.

I Have a Trade to Announce
Adam Silver has the best job in the NBA. The deputy commish gets to announce the second round, and as usual said second round in ripe with trades, and who doesn't love a good swap of draft picks, rights to European players and guys who will total less than one hundred minutes on the season. Silver obviously appreciates his worth as he seems to get a chuckle out of every cheer that greets every trade, even when it means the gold standard for busts, Darco Milicik, is bound to come to the Knicks in said trade. The pick following the trade could be John Krasinksi, but the fans don't care, at least it was a trade.

Here is what came to mind during various moments in the first 14 picks that just had to be mentioned:

Winning the Lottery
Oklahoma City GM Sam Presti proves to be smarter than I thought. I do think he is building a good team but I felt that Rubio’s hype would prevail. Harden is just a basketball player, pure an simple. He doesn't need to be a star on this team to have a good impact.

“I’m Ricky Rubio, I’m not like anybody else.”
When asked who he compared to by Mike Tirico, that was Rubio's response. O, he's got an NBA ready personality. Though some people like the confidence I call it cockiness, and think he's a bust waiting to happen. He says quotes like that and his highlight tape is full of needless around the back dribbles that have no bearing on if he actually got to the cup or not. Fogarty swears by his skills and think he'll be great, I disagree. He's not Pistol Pete reincarnate, he's Jason Williams (the white one) 2.0. He's less known for his skills, more known for being White Chocolate and lucking into a possessed Dwayne Wade championship. Have fun in Minny Ricky, them Midwesterners just LOVE foreigners too.

Wait, where is Golden State?
I thought if Curry got by T-Wolves he’d be a Knick and my dream would come true. Not to be but at least I know both Stephen and his dad wanted New York. His dad Dell had the look on his face of “Why is my son going to Oakland? He's too classy for that.” Oaktown is about as far from Davidson College, a very white, very small, very rural school, as you can get.

Welcome to New York Jordan
A little kid held up a thumbs down as the camera panned over him for a crowd shot on the Jordan Hill. His dad turned it back up as if to say, "Don't boo him son." The kid couldn't have been more than 9 but he knew what was up. Gotta love New York draft fans, no matter what the sport. While most franchises use the draft as a time of hope, New Yorkers see it for what it is, a meat market where they get stuck with nothing more than last weeks bologna.

He Ain't Short
After last year when Jay Bilas spent all but 2.3 seconds of his airtime talking about just how long the arms of every draftee was, it took till Gerald Henderson, the 12th pick for Mr. Bilas to salivate over the length of another man.