GM,
Positively nothing gets me giddier about sports than NFL drama. A friend called me the morning the Terrell Owens “suicide attempt” story broke, and I was so overwhelmed with exhilaration that I could only squeak out four words: “I’m not working today.” I’m not saying I like it when Junior Seau makes borderline racist comments about LaDainian Tomlinson, when Bill Belichick cheats, when Plaxico Burress shoots himself, or when Brett Favre agonizes over the retirement decision for months on end, but I am saying these things make the world’s greatest league and sport that much better.
And as long as my team isn’t the victim of bad quarterback play—don’t worry; it has been… go Dolphins—I really enjoy the controversy it can deliver. This brings us to what should have been the lead: Michael Vick. No need to go into the history of why he’s been on the shelf, except to remind you that it’s almost been a thousand days since he last took a snap! And even then, his contribution to his team was questionable at best, harmful at worst. ESPN’s Sean Salisbury once insisted that Vick would eventually throw for 4,000 yards and run for 1,000 yards in the same season. This is just to remind you of the outrageous hype that surrounded Vick before the dog-fighting stuff broke. He was Superman to those who wanted to believe, the NFL’s version of Allen Iverson to those who knew better. And now, I get to sit back and watch as a few quarterback-desperate teams who don’t know better vie for the formerly highest-paid player in the game.
My top-four runners up are the Raiders, Jets, 49ers, and Buccaneers. These guys could use somebody. Unfortunately, while we would all squeal uncontrollably if Vick went to the Raiders, it won’t happen, as Al Davis considers JaMarcus Russell a franchise QB. The Jets seem to be content—not necessarily happy—with Kellen Clemens. I don’t think Mike Singletary has the patience for someone like Vick. As for the Bucs, I couldn’t tell you their head coach or QB situation with a gun to my head, so I’ll assume that’s a possibility. But there’s only one place that Michael Vick must end up: Buffalo.
Buffalo, New York! “They have football there?!” I assume some guys have been saying that because Trent Edwards keeps talking about how the media are actually covering the team now. Edwards, who won the title for “Worst QB Performance Ever Without Getting Benched” on a Monday night against Cleveland last year, will already have to deal with the aforementioned T.O. And I don’t have any particular disdain for Edwards—he really is terrible, though—but I doubt I’d be the only one praying that Vick and Owens wind up on the field together. “Abandon the running game early because you want to, late because you have to. It’s the V.T.O. Show, fellas.” It’ll look something like this when done correctly: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVh0n03DnjQ. The rest of the highlights will come from the locker room and sidelines. I can’t wait.
-JW
JW,
You're right, of course, about Buffalo, though for comedic value, O-Town can't be beat. Just imagine the Moss jersey's urban appeal and multiply it by a million. Forget the mean streets of East Oakland. Gangstas will be wearing this s--t to the electric chair!
I'm surprised, by the way, that you neglected to mention T.O. rolling out the red carpet for Vick earlier this week, an overture that must have coincided with his realization that Trent Edwards is indeed his quarterback. Put yourself in 81's place for a moment and you'll see where this is going. Edwards' wild lobs could potentially be caught by a T.O. still in his prime, but nobody's catching Vick's bounce passes, and Owens knows that blame will be handed out accordingly.
See, that's the thing about the invention of the forward pass. A damnable nuisance, to be sure, it tends to limit those players whose throwing motion propels the ball downward. As things stand, T.O. likes to complain when he doesn't get enough touches. How's he going to feel when no one gets touches? Except for Vick, of course. And the turf. And the other team's safeties.
As far as I'm concerned, now is the time for Roger Goodell to declare that a Vick/Owens pairing is outside the best interest of the league. We're making up the story, for heaven's sake, and I'm already sick of hearing about it! Furthermore, why waste Vick on a washed-up brat like Owens when a washed-up fellow criminal like Marvin Harrison is just waiting for the opportunity?
Can't you just see it? Vick slinging rocks to Harrison as a tearful Tony Dungy looks on from the sideline and fans cower in their seats? Let's make it happen!
By the way, I'd forgotten about the Vick/Owens commercial, so thanks for the link. I wonder, does Vick's jersey really light up when he's about to throw a reckless pass? If so, can we use that information for gambling purposes?
-GM
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
All Over Again . . . And Again . . . And Again
JW,
Today’s sentiment is simple: Screw you, Yogi Berra.
That’s right, one of the most beloved imbeciles of all time has finally chapped my ass a smidge too red. His weapon? “De ja vu all over again,” a loathsome bit of malapropistic nonsense that jumped from the ESPN studio to the college classroom a few years ago and has now shown up in the online column of Stanley Fish (!) writing for the New York Times (!!). Believe me, I like fake wryness as much as the next guy, but there’s a limit to what one man can Berra. As my mother used to say, the first time’s funny, the second time’s silly, and the third time’s a spanking.
Here’s the thing about stupid phrases. Sure, they’re good for irony, but abuse them and they revert to stupid. The sophisticate’s task is constant vigilance, lest the expression reach its tipping point without his knowing it. With apologies to Fish, I’m pretty sure we’re there.
Consider, for example, my Google search, which shows roughly 15 million hits for “de ja vu” and 2 trillion for “de ja vu all over again”! (Okay, it’s half a million, but that’s still a big number. Damn big.) An actual phenomenon that spans languages and cultures is only thirty times more popular than a made-up piece of idiocy! It should be a thousand!
Won’t you join me in boycotting any television program, column, or person who uses this phrase ever again? It’ll be a loss, I know, but not an unbearable one. After all, Yogi got one thing right. If the world was perfect, it wouldn’t be.
-GM
GM,
For me, such a boycott would reduce my television watching--for a few days at least--to Comedy Central. And considering its affinity for one-season wonders (see Michael & Michael, Con, and The Naked Trucker and T-Bone Show), I would be forced to limit my viewing "pleasure" to Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and South Park reruns. If ESPN and ESPN2 actually thought the third time was worthy of a spanking, then you wouldn't be the only one with a beet-red posterior. Chris Berman, Dick Vitale, Stuart Scott, Josh Elliot, Trey Wingo--the list of people who use this phrase goes on and on, and I have reason to believe Berman and Vitale actually fail to understand the joke. The redundancy of "De ja vu all over again" differs slightly from that of John Clayton and Magic Johnson's beloved "and also too" to start a sentence, and it's not quite as overplayed as the sarcastic, Wingo-crafted (I think) "And oh, by the way" or "This just in." It does, however, strike a certain nerve, especially when it's so overdone.
This is why ESPN2's First Take, while miserable from a standpoint of quality sports programming, is actually brilliant for those who enjoy watching Jay Crawford and Dana Jacobson attempt to overcome the awkwardness of what I can only assume is their own writing. And if you think the word "practice" can even be mentioned on that show without an Allen Iverson impression, you clearly haven't watched. Some people just don't understand that a joke depreciates in value. Try telling that to the "That's what she said" crowd. I was attempting (and failing) to convince people that joke had worn thin two and a half years ago!
GM, I would love to jump on your bandwagon and say "No more!" to mindless cliches and trite humor, but I already have to scroll through the Guide whenever I want to watch an NFL game on NBC, an NBA game on TNT, or any college football game that's not on ESPN because I simply don't know the channel numbers. My dependence on ESPN exceeds my irritation with it. Speaking of dependence and ESPN irritation, do you remember SportsCenter anchor Fred Hickman? He was actually the worst sports anchor I've ever seen outside of a student broadcast. Here's an incredibly interesting story about the guy: http://deadspin.com/5100372/the-curious-case-of-fred-hickman.
-JW
Today’s sentiment is simple: Screw you, Yogi Berra.
That’s right, one of the most beloved imbeciles of all time has finally chapped my ass a smidge too red. His weapon? “De ja vu all over again,” a loathsome bit of malapropistic nonsense that jumped from the ESPN studio to the college classroom a few years ago and has now shown up in the online column of Stanley Fish (!) writing for the New York Times (!!). Believe me, I like fake wryness as much as the next guy, but there’s a limit to what one man can Berra. As my mother used to say, the first time’s funny, the second time’s silly, and the third time’s a spanking.
Here’s the thing about stupid phrases. Sure, they’re good for irony, but abuse them and they revert to stupid. The sophisticate’s task is constant vigilance, lest the expression reach its tipping point without his knowing it. With apologies to Fish, I’m pretty sure we’re there.
Consider, for example, my Google search, which shows roughly 15 million hits for “de ja vu” and 2 trillion for “de ja vu all over again”! (Okay, it’s half a million, but that’s still a big number. Damn big.) An actual phenomenon that spans languages and cultures is only thirty times more popular than a made-up piece of idiocy! It should be a thousand!
Won’t you join me in boycotting any television program, column, or person who uses this phrase ever again? It’ll be a loss, I know, but not an unbearable one. After all, Yogi got one thing right. If the world was perfect, it wouldn’t be.
-GM
GM,
For me, such a boycott would reduce my television watching--for a few days at least--to Comedy Central. And considering its affinity for one-season wonders (see Michael & Michael, Con, and The Naked Trucker and T-Bone Show), I would be forced to limit my viewing "pleasure" to Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and South Park reruns. If ESPN and ESPN2 actually thought the third time was worthy of a spanking, then you wouldn't be the only one with a beet-red posterior. Chris Berman, Dick Vitale, Stuart Scott, Josh Elliot, Trey Wingo--the list of people who use this phrase goes on and on, and I have reason to believe Berman and Vitale actually fail to understand the joke. The redundancy of "De ja vu all over again" differs slightly from that of John Clayton and Magic Johnson's beloved "and also too" to start a sentence, and it's not quite as overplayed as the sarcastic, Wingo-crafted (I think) "And oh, by the way" or "This just in." It does, however, strike a certain nerve, especially when it's so overdone.
This is why ESPN2's First Take, while miserable from a standpoint of quality sports programming, is actually brilliant for those who enjoy watching Jay Crawford and Dana Jacobson attempt to overcome the awkwardness of what I can only assume is their own writing. And if you think the word "practice" can even be mentioned on that show without an Allen Iverson impression, you clearly haven't watched. Some people just don't understand that a joke depreciates in value. Try telling that to the "That's what she said" crowd. I was attempting (and failing) to convince people that joke had worn thin two and a half years ago!
GM, I would love to jump on your bandwagon and say "No more!" to mindless cliches and trite humor, but I already have to scroll through the Guide whenever I want to watch an NFL game on NBC, an NBA game on TNT, or any college football game that's not on ESPN because I simply don't know the channel numbers. My dependence on ESPN exceeds my irritation with it. Speaking of dependence and ESPN irritation, do you remember SportsCenter anchor Fred Hickman? He was actually the worst sports anchor I've ever seen outside of a student broadcast. Here's an incredibly interesting story about the guy: http://deadspin.com/5100372/the-curious-case-of-fred-hickman.
-JW
Friday, July 24, 2009
Regular Season Baseball . . . Just Perfect!
JW,
I love regular season baseball. Mind you, I don't watch it particularly often, but the idea of it pleases me a great deal. There's something comforting about the summer-long battle of attrition that is the 162-game stretch. I like knowing that pitchers are winding up and batters swinging all around me, even if I have no interest in them. In a sense, regular season baseball is like really good elevator music. It's made to be ignored, but every so often a good riff catches your attention.
Such was the case yesterday, when Mark Buehrle pitched only the sixteenth perfect game of the modern era (distinguished from the pre-modern era by the fact that today's players don't work in the fields between games). I heard about the game the same way everyone else did--an ESPN ticker told me about it after the fact--and I spent the evening looking for highlights. Having found them, I'm ready to make a pronouncement about perfect games, and I hope you'll agree with it.
Perfect games, JW, are largely a matter of luck, and that's one of the reasons why we care about them. I've said it before, but most people care very little about effort. What we're interested in is that strange combination of skill and luck that makes great plays. Yes, DeWayne Wise's catch was ridiculous, but Wise would have been helpless if Gabe Kapler's potential home run had sailed three more inches. Three inches, and we'd already have forgotten the game, just like everyone but Expos fans and Nelson de la Rosa forgot within a week that Pedro Martinez pitched a perfect nine in '95 before Bip Roberts popped him for a double in the tenth. Free baseball? I think not.
So what are we to make of a sporting accomplishment so fickle, so dependant on the bounce of the ball and the competence of teammates? If only they depended also on pitchers' accomplishments in previous seasons, we could rename them the NBA MVP award.
-GM
GM,
There was a time I actually watched regular-season baseball. Well, two times. The first came when I was a small child and my parents wouldn't spring for cable. As a 7-year-old, I would check the TV schedule every week to see which network would be willing to show a Saturday or Sunday ballgame because I loved watching the pros so much--probably because my coach-pitch games were riddled with embarrassing strikeouts and errors. Granted, I didn't have much else to do at that age, but I actually planned around televised regular-season baseball games. Then we got cable, and then the strike came, and then I got some semblance of a life, and then we were only watching games to see if Mark McGwire would break the record. The height of this generation's baseball controversy, steroids, plagued the headlines and leads for the next few years, and SportsCenter became a pretty good way to keep up with the "juicy" stories without having to endure a 16-9 Yankees/Rangers slugout.
Then I started working in sports, and I thought it was my duty to try to learn as much about baseball as baseball geeks know. After five years of pretty solid effort, I realized I wasn't up to the task. Too much free agency. Too many names I struggled to pronounce. Too many games. I actually met Gabe Kapler, though. The Red Sox offered him a one-year deal in 2007, and he turned it down to be the manager of their Single-A team, the Greenville Drive in South Carolina. I had a brief conversation with him and thought: "What's this guy doing?! He traded a major league salary, team jet rides, and baseball groupies for a minor league manager's salary, long bus trips, and, ummm, slightly less attractive baseball groupies?!" And if Kapler is married and happens to be one of the few guys in professional sports who practices fidelity, forget the last part, although it's still nice to know they're interested, right?
I will agree that the perfect game does involve quite a bit of luck. Roger Clemens never had one. Nolan Ryan, despite seven no-hitters, never had one. It's a good list to be on, but let's just say David Wells probably won't be in the Hall of Fame unless several more big-time steroids stories leave Cooperstown in need of filling spots. Now, the cycle, that's fluky. I once hit for the cycle in an intramural softball game, and Willie Mays hasn't even done that!
-JW
I love regular season baseball. Mind you, I don't watch it particularly often, but the idea of it pleases me a great deal. There's something comforting about the summer-long battle of attrition that is the 162-game stretch. I like knowing that pitchers are winding up and batters swinging all around me, even if I have no interest in them. In a sense, regular season baseball is like really good elevator music. It's made to be ignored, but every so often a good riff catches your attention.
Such was the case yesterday, when Mark Buehrle pitched only the sixteenth perfect game of the modern era (distinguished from the pre-modern era by the fact that today's players don't work in the fields between games). I heard about the game the same way everyone else did--an ESPN ticker told me about it after the fact--and I spent the evening looking for highlights. Having found them, I'm ready to make a pronouncement about perfect games, and I hope you'll agree with it.
Perfect games, JW, are largely a matter of luck, and that's one of the reasons why we care about them. I've said it before, but most people care very little about effort. What we're interested in is that strange combination of skill and luck that makes great plays. Yes, DeWayne Wise's catch was ridiculous, but Wise would have been helpless if Gabe Kapler's potential home run had sailed three more inches. Three inches, and we'd already have forgotten the game, just like everyone but Expos fans and Nelson de la Rosa forgot within a week that Pedro Martinez pitched a perfect nine in '95 before Bip Roberts popped him for a double in the tenth. Free baseball? I think not.
So what are we to make of a sporting accomplishment so fickle, so dependant on the bounce of the ball and the competence of teammates? If only they depended also on pitchers' accomplishments in previous seasons, we could rename them the NBA MVP award.
-GM
GM,
There was a time I actually watched regular-season baseball. Well, two times. The first came when I was a small child and my parents wouldn't spring for cable. As a 7-year-old, I would check the TV schedule every week to see which network would be willing to show a Saturday or Sunday ballgame because I loved watching the pros so much--probably because my coach-pitch games were riddled with embarrassing strikeouts and errors. Granted, I didn't have much else to do at that age, but I actually planned around televised regular-season baseball games. Then we got cable, and then the strike came, and then I got some semblance of a life, and then we were only watching games to see if Mark McGwire would break the record. The height of this generation's baseball controversy, steroids, plagued the headlines and leads for the next few years, and SportsCenter became a pretty good way to keep up with the "juicy" stories without having to endure a 16-9 Yankees/Rangers slugout.
Then I started working in sports, and I thought it was my duty to try to learn as much about baseball as baseball geeks know. After five years of pretty solid effort, I realized I wasn't up to the task. Too much free agency. Too many names I struggled to pronounce. Too many games. I actually met Gabe Kapler, though. The Red Sox offered him a one-year deal in 2007, and he turned it down to be the manager of their Single-A team, the Greenville Drive in South Carolina. I had a brief conversation with him and thought: "What's this guy doing?! He traded a major league salary, team jet rides, and baseball groupies for a minor league manager's salary, long bus trips, and, ummm, slightly less attractive baseball groupies?!" And if Kapler is married and happens to be one of the few guys in professional sports who practices fidelity, forget the last part, although it's still nice to know they're interested, right?
I will agree that the perfect game does involve quite a bit of luck. Roger Clemens never had one. Nolan Ryan, despite seven no-hitters, never had one. It's a good list to be on, but let's just say David Wells probably won't be in the Hall of Fame unless several more big-time steroids stories leave Cooperstown in need of filling spots. Now, the cycle, that's fluky. I once hit for the cycle in an intramural softball game, and Willie Mays hasn't even done that!
-JW
Thursday, July 23, 2009
A New Hero For a New South
JW,
Driving through a major Southern city this morning, I came across a fellow who had fashioned a pair of testicles out of tennis balls and socks. They were swinging from the trailer hitch of his Chevy pickup, nearly brushing the ground as he maneuvered through traffic. Seeing this display, I realized anew that Obama's attempts to remake this country in the image of socialist Europe cannot be wholly successful. Not while testicle guy lives. Not while he's still out there.
To be honest, I haven't been this proud to be a Southerner since the time I saw a University of Georgia fan teasing a South Carolina fan for liking cocks . . . in front of his granddaughter. Seeing this Chevy was like the first night of Shiloh. We've cleared the field, and the Northern aggressors are fleeing into the Tennessee.
Unfortunately, Obama's press conference tonight promises to be the political equivalent of the arrival of Buell's reinforcements. I know that we've reached the point of destroying our own televisions to rid ourselves of the very sight of the guy, but for some reason, the rest of the nation still seems to enjoy the dithering. Personally, I'm expecting a hearty session of what I've come to recognize as the "Hem and Haw Fillibuster." Receiving a question of any depth from his minions in the press room, Obama will proceed to say the word "um" seventeen times in a row while staring at the left hand corner of the ceiling. The assembled press, astonished by the president's eloquence, will fall into a respectful silence, and the question will pass unanswered. Just you watch.
As for me, let's just say that my evening will consist of the purchasing of some cotton footwear. I've got the tennis gear already. Join me?
-GM
GM,
I also spent some time driving through the South yesterday, and I saw a guy who embodied our vision for America even more. See, he too was driving a Chevy pickup (fittingly, my very next rest stop involved hearing John Mellencamp's "This Is Our Country" while using the urinal). But my guy didn't find an old pair of gym socks and steal a couple of tennis balls from his dog's play area to capture the desired effect (we know your guy doesn't play tennis). My guy actually stimulated the free market by purchasing the testicles from someone who had the balls (yes, literally) to make a business out of it. These things actually have a brand name--probably a few actually--but a quick Google search led me to http://www.bumpernuts.com/. I have little doubt that the person who runs this site makes more money than both of us combined. And that's the greatness that is "Our Country." What isn't "Our Country" is the parental attempt to outlaw BumperNuts and products of the like. Hey, I think testicle guy is a buffoon, and I can't decide if it's a testosterone excess or deficiency, or just a poor sense of humor, that drives someone to "genderize" his truck. But I can't condone any effort to outlaw truck genitalia until BumperNuts includes the entire male reproductive organ. As I just heard Obama say in his speech, let's keep it to a "single-pair system."
What I mainly don't understand is the confusion that automobile owners have expressed over the years when it comes to naming their vehicles. I thought cars and trucks were exclusively female. Perhaps there's a certain poetry to testicle guy's testicular statement. Maybe he wasn't even a guy! Maybe it was a feminist who wanted to draw similarities between GM's historical product development and the typically stubborn man. "A Chevy truck must be a man!" If that's the case, I'll give the devil her due.
-JW
Driving through a major Southern city this morning, I came across a fellow who had fashioned a pair of testicles out of tennis balls and socks. They were swinging from the trailer hitch of his Chevy pickup, nearly brushing the ground as he maneuvered through traffic. Seeing this display, I realized anew that Obama's attempts to remake this country in the image of socialist Europe cannot be wholly successful. Not while testicle guy lives. Not while he's still out there.
To be honest, I haven't been this proud to be a Southerner since the time I saw a University of Georgia fan teasing a South Carolina fan for liking cocks . . . in front of his granddaughter. Seeing this Chevy was like the first night of Shiloh. We've cleared the field, and the Northern aggressors are fleeing into the Tennessee.
Unfortunately, Obama's press conference tonight promises to be the political equivalent of the arrival of Buell's reinforcements. I know that we've reached the point of destroying our own televisions to rid ourselves of the very sight of the guy, but for some reason, the rest of the nation still seems to enjoy the dithering. Personally, I'm expecting a hearty session of what I've come to recognize as the "Hem and Haw Fillibuster." Receiving a question of any depth from his minions in the press room, Obama will proceed to say the word "um" seventeen times in a row while staring at the left hand corner of the ceiling. The assembled press, astonished by the president's eloquence, will fall into a respectful silence, and the question will pass unanswered. Just you watch.
As for me, let's just say that my evening will consist of the purchasing of some cotton footwear. I've got the tennis gear already. Join me?
-GM
GM,
I also spent some time driving through the South yesterday, and I saw a guy who embodied our vision for America even more. See, he too was driving a Chevy pickup (fittingly, my very next rest stop involved hearing John Mellencamp's "This Is Our Country" while using the urinal). But my guy didn't find an old pair of gym socks and steal a couple of tennis balls from his dog's play area to capture the desired effect (we know your guy doesn't play tennis). My guy actually stimulated the free market by purchasing the testicles from someone who had the balls (yes, literally) to make a business out of it. These things actually have a brand name--probably a few actually--but a quick Google search led me to http://www.bumpernuts.com/. I have little doubt that the person who runs this site makes more money than both of us combined. And that's the greatness that is "Our Country." What isn't "Our Country" is the parental attempt to outlaw BumperNuts and products of the like. Hey, I think testicle guy is a buffoon, and I can't decide if it's a testosterone excess or deficiency, or just a poor sense of humor, that drives someone to "genderize" his truck. But I can't condone any effort to outlaw truck genitalia until BumperNuts includes the entire male reproductive organ. As I just heard Obama say in his speech, let's keep it to a "single-pair system."
What I mainly don't understand is the confusion that automobile owners have expressed over the years when it comes to naming their vehicles. I thought cars and trucks were exclusively female. Perhaps there's a certain poetry to testicle guy's testicular statement. Maybe he wasn't even a guy! Maybe it was a feminist who wanted to draw similarities between GM's historical product development and the typically stubborn man. "A Chevy truck must be a man!" If that's the case, I'll give the devil her due.
-JW
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Old News
JW,
Let's be honest. Watching Phil Mickel . . . er, Tom Watson choke away the British Open this weekend had all the emotional significance of seeing a billionaire lose at five-dollar blackjack. Yeah, I feel for the guy, but there's plenty more where that came from. After all, this is a guy who made a living playing golf, who holds the adoration of millions of fans, and who has to be in the top five for best white celebrity voices of all time (right behind Barack Obama). Watson has had a better life than I have any chance of having, and it's not close. So pity him? Not bloody likely!
If anyone deserves our sympathy, it's the media, for whom a Watson win could only have been topped by Tiger snatching the victory from Colin Montgomerie on the 72nd hole before beating Monty about the head with the Claret Jug. Talk about getting your journalistic rocks off! Now, instead of celebrating the athletic prowess of the aged with golf's largely aged viewership, sportswriters are stuck with the most depressing story I may ever have heard: Old people are almost good enough, but not quite. Yikes.
Still, Watson's saga is a good reminder of why golf can compete with sports that move at speeds greater than a brisk walk. A Hail Mary pass lands in three or four seconds, a jump shot in just over one. Golf's clutch moments, on the other hand, last forever. I made a sandwich in the time it took Watson to miss the clinching putt, and my hands were shaking the whole time! By dragging out its crucial segments, golf gives us time to pass through the whole spectrum of emotional fanhood, from hopefulness to abject despair and back again, depending on the player. With Watson, just like with Mickelson, we knew it was lipping out, or not getting there, or disappearing into the tall stuff, but that hope still existed that just maybe we were wrong about him. You can't get that deep into other sports' individual plays, and I can't help finding the experience exhilarating.
How about you?
-GM
GM,
Golf gives us something that other sports struggle to give: honest emotion from people who look like us. Watson looked like he was about to cry on the 75th hole as his hopes slipped away. And yes, his voice is incredible, which means that his life likely would have been far better than ours regardless of his chosen field--a sad truth, to be sure.
We've been doing this blog a little over a week now, and I think it's time for the usually-to-be-avoided Top-10 list. So you're welcome, folks. My portion of today's blog will be an easy read, as I present to you...
"JW's Top 10 Choke Jobs of All Time That He Has Seen Live and Not Used The Internet to Recall"
(Hey, it may be a long title, but I'm not going to do any cheap stuff like combine similar choke jobs to make for one big one. Chris Berman, I'm looking your way. Oh, and I'm sure I'll miss some good ones, but I'm really not using the Internet except for name spelling. I dare you to check my facts.)
10. Chris Webber's timeout (1993 NCAA Basketball Championship Game)
- This barely, barely made the list. The chances of an entire group of college sophomores executing a game-winning play against North Carolina are slim at best. A choke, in my opinion, is when you have it won and give it away. Remember that Michigan was behind. Also remember that Webber definitely traveled in the backcourt, and that the referee definitely saw it but didn't call it anyway.
9. Trailblazers' Squandered Lead (2000 NBA Western Conference Finals, Game 7)
- An incredibly talented Trailblazers team blew a 15-point, fourth-quarter lead to lose Game 7 and the series to Phil Jackson and the Lakers. Replace "Lakers" with "Bulls" and "Game 7" with "Game 6," and the exact same event occurred in the 1992 NBA Finals, but it's not part of the list because I cannot stand rulebreakers on top-10 lists.
8. Chuck Knoblauch Bamboozles Lonnie Smith (1991 World Series)
- Smith would have scored the eventual game-winning run for the Braves had he not been fooled by Knoblauch's half-hearted fake throw, which led Smith to believe that the ball was back in the infield when it was actually still bouncing around near the fence. The Twins won 1-0 in 10 innings. Still the best I've ever seen, this was the first World Series I watched every game of. The last was 2002.
7. The Bluegrass Miracle
- In 2002, Kentucky had a respectable football team--for the first time since Tim Couch. With one second left on the clock, LSU connected on a 70- or 80-yard pass that was tipped and hauled in for a touchdown--behind the Wildcats' last line of defense. I don't remember a single name from that play, but I do remember a closeup of one of the Kentucky players, who was being comforted by one of the assistant coaches. He was so heartbroken that he punched his coach in the stomach! OK, probably not, but you be the judge (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_c1ANN6EVyU&feature=fvw 1:25). That's the main thing I remember, but of course the Kentucky players drenched the coach and the fans stormed the field thinking they had won. They did this after the final play. Way to watch the whole game, fairweatherers. The only thing that could have made it better is if the situation had been completely reversed. It's unthinkable that LSU fans would ever storm the field after beating Kentucky in football, but take your average degenerate LSU fan. You're drunk off your ass from the 12-hour tailgate, and you're ready to go eat some alligator or tip over a fan bus. You hop on the field, help rip down the goal post, and proceed to commit heinous and lewd acts on anything and anyone in blue. You're finally arrested on a number of charges, some felony, and you learn the next day that your team actually lost. At this point, you're angry enough to drop out of sch . . . er, quit your job at the oil refinery.
6. The Mavericks' Should-be Championship (2006 NBA Finals)
- I don't know if the bigger choke was in Game 3 against the Heat (when Dwyane Wade went crazy to lead a late comeback) or the series as a whole. Either way, I'm irritated that Dallas couldn't stop Pat Riley, Shaq, Jason Williams, Antoine Walker, and Gary Payton from getting rings.
5. Cubs (with Steve Bartman) Fail to Clinch Penant (2003 NLCS)
- The Red Sox had a similar mishap a few days later, but we're still waiting for the Cubs to redeem themselves. Not me, actually; I hate that organization.
4. Mickel-slam Avoided (2006 U.S. Open)
- Phil Mickelson would have won his third straight major if he hadn't used driver. I could be wrong, but I think he missed every fairway on Sunday.
3. Phoenix is San Antonio's Bitch... Again (2008 Western Conference Semi-Finals, Game 1)
- Must I even talk about it? Michael Finley. Tim Duncan. Manu Ginobili. In that order. I knew each of their shots were going in, and there was nothing anyone could do. The NBA god is a boring one who enjoys the halfcourt game, team defense, and rebounding. In the Steve Nash era, the Suns were incapable of losing to the Spurs in a non-devastating fashion.
2. Nick Anderson's Free Throws (1995 NBA Finals, Game 1)
- This would be number 1 if I didn't firmly believe that the Rockets would have won the series anyway. They swept the Magic, but only because Anderson missed four straight foul shots in the closing seconds of regulation, opening the door for a Kenny Smith three.
1. Jean Van de Velde (1999 British Open)
- Need I say more? This guy was put on earth for one reason--to blow a three-stroke lead on the 72nd hole of the British Open by acting brave: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XU94TwmmYk. This was the wackiest moment I've seen in golf, and it happened when everything was on the line for a guy who, to my knowledge, hasn't contended for anything else in his career. Best of all, Van de Velde is a Frenchmen, and his choke job came from trying too hard to be brave!
-JW
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