One of the things that mystifies me about sport is the reaction some of my friends have. Take a game day, for a week in advance all I've heard about was The Big Game. How their team was going to tear up the field, wipe it dry with their opponents. If I had money, the best thing I could do would be to put a chunk of it down on the over and make that over at least fifty. 5.0. They then confide in me that they didn't tell Sara Lee Cupcake, also known as his wife, the little woman, but he put the mortgage payment, the insurance money as well as the agreed upon deposit to savings on just such a wager. Even this may be only Thursday or Friday I can already barely suppress a sense of dread for Sunday or Monday. (It depends on whether he went with the college boys or the pros.) It's not necessary, but I will, to mention that he lost and, at some point in the few days of peace he had while this deed was still unknown, he tried to borrow, hock, promise anything to anyone who would loan him enough money to replace the missing funds. And this might have worked had not some well meaning friend dropped by to give him his part of the bail money and, assuming she knew, yucked it up with Mrs. Bettor about what an ass he'd been. The smile she'd displayed to his buddy faded faster than visions of heaven in hell. Unfortunately, she's granted a few hours to “think things over” before one tired little Teddy Bear slinks in. (He's had a hard day, he's sold plasma, blood and semen to those groups who buy plasma, blood and semen and he's exhausted. To preserve their privacy we'll draw a veil over the intimate little domestic scene that's about to play out in suburbia.

But it makes a point he didn’t think of; In the middle of his wild eyed gambling and support for his team, he had too much riding to really enjoy the game. Even if he'd won he still has to tell her how come he's just bought a motorcycle, a diamond for her and the people who build swimming pools will start building a pool in a day or two. Her appreciation for what he's done is going to be mightily tempered by the disaster that might have befallen them had he lost. He'll be puzzled at her attitude but the poor sap did not realize this was a game he could not win. And he still didn't enjoy the game.

Full Disclosure. I have certain players or teams about whom or which I care almost irrationally. On the evening of the men's finals at the U.S. Open I could hardly watch. Practically since the first time I saw him play I've been a fan of Novak Djokovic. I've supported him when he's had slumps and, of course, this year I've been on first as he won and won and, with the exception of two games, never lost. Each time the smiling Serb took the court I went into panic mode thinking, this is it, the game he loses and that will be the beginning of the end. Of course that didn't happen but that Monday night in September in the finals of the US Open, against Rafa Nadal (whom he has consistently defeated this year) I could not watch. Well, that's not quite accurate. I could turn to it for a few minutes and then go somewhere else. Let him drop one point on his opponent's serve and I fear the worst. It doesn't matter that he roared back to break Nadal, I don't know that because I'm compulsively watching an informative programme on efforts to save some animal or other. And I cannot watch that because my mind and heart is at Flushing Meadow even if my screen is not. As happens, when I'd drop back, full of fear and loathing, I did notice that he seemed to be winning and, finally, I stuck with it and was rewarded with some of the finest tennis one is ever likely to see. And that's not all. I have this same approach/avoidance issue with the K.C. Chiefs, the Royals or USC. I care too much to watch and yet am too desperate to know not to watch. It's a conundrum, I”ll tell you, and one I've never solved.

Nor have many others and I don't mean with just those teams. Lets say it's Friday and you and “Bill” are leaving the office. You know Bill went to XYZ University so you leave him wishing his team well. And you forget about it. Now it's Monday, Bill is slouched over his desk in a manner that suggests either Angina Pectoris or his team lost. (You know he's in the peak of condition so it has to be a major disaster on the playing field.) One wants to be helpful, solicitous so you say, “Alright in there, Buddy?”. This produces a ruffling of body parts, a moan that's almost palpable and a moist burp. Nothing you can say or do will accomplish anything apart from twisting the knife further and so you go away hoping coffee, good news from the market, a bonus check, anything really, will rouse him to, if not good cheer, than at least not seeming suicidal.

We all know that this little scenario is being played all across the nation in homes, car pools, commuter trains, offices, warehouses-you pick a place and it's happening there. As a people we cannot seem to moderate our enthusiasms about something over which we have no control. We are so emotionally invested that simple things, the earth turning on its axis for example, are of no interest. Annoyed people of whatever group could be shooting up St. Peter's Basilica and it wouldn't matter. The team lost. That's the stark message that blinks on and off in our minds. Followed, usually, by “How Could They Have Lost?”. Easy, the way most persons or teams lose, the opponent played better or caught a lucky break, it doesn't matter. Square you shoulders, face up to it and go on with your real life. And, sometimes, that's what happens. But not always.

I have in my acquaintanceship, people with whom no rational conversation is possible as, no matter where you start, it will ramble, rather quickly, to their team, the next game or, usually, both. Not too surprizingly these people eventually find that being self employed is their only way of finding work. A quick look at their track record in business and industry shows that they graduated covered with blues and firsts and were snapped up by a prestigious firm. They left there after some inner office altercation over the office pool on....something, it really doesn't matter. The next two jobs disappear although for different reasons but the underlying reason was their zealotry about either their team or their sport...again, as with above, it really doesn't matter. By now they've digressed to “outside sales” as their presence in the office, any office, is a problem for everyone. And outside sale doesn't last long as, one day, they walk into the office of a major client on whose wall is displayed a banner from ABC University, his arch enemy. No charges are eventually filed and it's settled out of court but that's when self-employment becomes the way to go.

A friend of mine who works for a very large corporation told me that, during hockey season, (they're in that part of the country) they have to segregate the assembly line to keep the Beaver supporters away from the Moose supporters. Cameras had to be set up in the parking lot, the break room had to be supervised and new hires, in addition to all the usual information, were led into telling which team they favoured. I mentioned a while back that I, too, have persons and teams that can break my heart but not to this extent.

It's great to support your team and your players. It's not great when this becomes a mania that clouds your judgment. It's easy to understand that in certain circumstances one's zeal runs higher than normal but we need to be able to enjoy that rush and then get over it. You don't want your friends to, quietly, begin to not include you just because they know what they're in for if you're part of the group. A good friend is an excellent Bridge player but, over time, has found herself not invited to play. And why? Well, as another friend said with clenched teeth, “She certainly is a good winner.” Case closed.

Enjoyment is supposed to be made up of disparate parts whose percentage vary with the situation. Sometimes it's the win, sometimes it's the excellence of play and, most often (I hope) it's being part of the experience, win or lose. That's the ideal and I'm rather afraid we as a people don't often achieve that. However, if we've had a reasonable time, even if “the boys just couldn't pull it out” then lets count it as something we all did and enjoyed doing.

Now. As to the person who said that Tommy Trojan couldn't ride a horse, lock your doors, I once was Tommy Trojan and, I'll have you know, not only did I ride that horse but I did it commando....... 

High school football started today in the Phoenix area.  The only problem with this (I love high school football) is that the temperature today was 117 degrees, which is the hottest day ever recorded in August in Phoenix.  Indeed the last four days were 116, 114, 115, and 117.  Sure we are in the middle of a desert here, but the average temperature at this time of the year is supposed to be 104.  It was still 108 at 7:30 this evening, so most of the games were delayed 2 hours because of the extreme heat.  The professional teams like the Diamondbacks and the Cardinals play in air conditioned stadiums, not so with the high school teams.  As I type this at 10:10 PM, it is still 102 degrees.  If you can imagine how uncomfortable it was for the fans to watch these high school teams, just think about how hot it was for the football players.

Phoenix is a city, much like Venice and also New Orleans, that simply was built in the wrong place.  4.7 million live here in the metropolitan area, and if it were not for the importation of water and the invention of air conditioning, there would be no one residing here.  I live in a 1600 square foot house and the electric bills for the summer months of June, July, August, and September average about $350 a month.  When everyone else is experiencing winter, it is like spring here and my electric bill drops to about $60 a month.  The rest of the nation has four seasons, Phoenix has only two (spring and hell).  So when spring arrives and stays for about eight months, please do not berate me if I brag about the weather.  I went through four months of hell to live the good life.

We are heading towards the stretch run for major league baseball, and the Arizona Diamondbacks are a month away from finishing a last place to first place transformation from 2010 to 2011.  It is going to take a Herculean effort for the San Francisco Giants to overtake Arizona, the Dbacks have very good starting pitching and excellent relief pitching, something that they severely lacked last season.  Arizona also is a much better hitting team than the Giants, so we will see if they can hold onto their 3 game lead.  This writer says they will and that the defending World Series Champions will be dethroned.

NCAA football is beginning this next week, and the landscape of the college football world is topsy-turvy.  The PAC-10 is now the PAC-12, the BIG-10 is actually the BIG-12, and the BIG-12 is actually the BIG-10.  You have to be a fan of the game to understand, suffice it to say there have been major changes.  We are also just two weeks away from the NFL game.  There is nothing in sports quite like the football season.

I connected with a long lost first cousin through Facebook this week.  Mike I am sorry that we hardly got to know one another in our lifetimes, but I want you to know that your father was always my favorite relative.  He was so funny and so friendly and giving.  He and your mom would come to visit my mom and dad a couple times a year (on their way to Las Vegas), and although I never had the pleasure of getting to know you and your brothers and sisters well, I did get to experience your parents and to know them.  I saw a couple of pictures of your father on Susie’s Facebook page, and all these great memories came pouring back into my brain.  He always insisted that they take my family to the best restaurants in Phoenix because it was also his profession and he wanted to compare.  I will always cherish the day that he had me visit you in Toledo.  I will never forget the great time that we had at the racetrack (and the money we won because of your shrewd tipster friend) because of his generosity.  I find myself always reminiscing about the good old days because the bulk of my life resides there.

I am one of those who hardly ever watch commercials on regular television.  I do not DVR these commercial television programs as my roommate Diesel does, to view and speed through the advertisements at a later date, but I am usually watching my television while simultaneously sitting at my computer. When there is a commercial break, I usually surf though the Internet until the program that I am watching returns.  I do not turn the sound down, however, so sometimes the music that is in the background of some of these commercials catches my ear and I become a fan of the music through osmosis.

Suddenly I had the tune “Red Light Love” running through my grey cells and I had no idea where the tune came from.  I usually listen to AM sports talk on my car radio and not FM music channels, so at first I was stumped how the tune had landed in my brain.  Finally I “Googled” the words and figured out that is the background music for a Kia vehicle commercial that, obviously, I had never watched.  I do not know how old the song is, but I find myself starting to like some of the “newer” music only because they are used as background of television commercials.  Here is another one that I got hooked on that was used in an IPod Nano 6^th generation (what the hell is that) commercial:

I am going to take a break from this line of thought for a bit and talk about who I think is the National League’s Most Valuable Player so far in this crazy baseball season.  He would be 23 year old Justin Upton, whose statistics read .304 batting average, 77 runs scored, 33 doubles, 5 triples, 24 home runs, 73 runs batted in, and .557 slugging percentage.  Justin leads the NL in doubles and total bases.  His team, the Arizona Diamondbacks, is in first place by 2 games over the San Francisco Giants.  Upton has elevated his game with the season ending loss of star shortstop Stephen Drew and has been carrying his team on his back since that All Star game.  The main problem standing in his way of garnering enough votes to win the award is that most of the East Coast writers are in bed fast asleep as he works his heroics. 

It is great to see the beginnings of the NFL season unfolding with what are usually some pretty boring pre-season games.  This season is different.  After having thought the season would be ruined by a long lock out, it is great to see the teams back in action, even if their play thus far is, understandably, sloppy. College football is about to resume also.  On September 3, Oregon will be playing LSU in the new Cowboy Stadium in Dallas.  What a way to kick off that season!

Here is another great tune that became famous in a Volkswagen commercial.  It is a bunch of “da da da’s” followed up by some German sentiments about love.  While we are talking about love (or the lack of such), let us not forget a certain Heineken Beer commercial (which touts love).  I guess that the television commercials are not all bad.  The music in them can be pretty good.

And then there were none. No more games, no more chances, no more adulation to breathe in. Just the utter defeat not only by the Mavericks but by the onus of what they thought they'd created. The fame wasn't even fleeting as all they ever had was an agonizing question that dragged them through the whole season. Sure, they got to the finals but they got beat. And the person who lost it for them is the one hired to win it for them. And, once again, he almost delivered but then....didn't. I'm sure we'll hear that one year isn't enough time to get the team together, we'll hear that the pressure of expectancy was too much. But the bottom line is....they lost.

What will they think in Miami? A year ago I wrote that if they didn't win that South Florida would forgive them....once but with caveats that string all across the state. There was a bill to be paid and they didn't even cover the tip. They performed at best, reasonably well but all through the finals they were losing games they shouldn't to the point that many writers said if they got by the Bulls, they'd be lucky. Well, they got lucky. However questionable the Bulls record has been in the past several years, their name has mystique, power, it's as if Jordan was still playing and Jackson was coaching. But they got by them and on to Big D. The Big Guns, The Big Men who believed in themselves and played as a group. It's that togetherness that over the past season the Heat has only rarely exhibited. That's one of the crutches they'll use, as mentioned above, to explain “what happened” when the bottom line to it all is they lost.

James will undoubtedly pass this off for a myriad of reasons but the main one is that he's learned to lie to himself so artfully that its now almost made him a sociopath. He loved last year, the tension, the adulation, the screaming crowds, the promises of greatness of things to come. But somewhere on the Cleveland to Miami littoral he followed the same defeatist purpose that he carries with him. Some people are afraid of success, however great their talents. It's of them that people say, “Gee, they were so good I wonder why they never quite made it?” And, really there's no finite answer to that. Some people in spite of skill and ability are just losers. It would seem that's Le Bron James. It is, after all, easier to lose and then try and justify it than it is to win and carry the onus of having to do it again. How many trips to the finals? How many losses...in a row? All the excuses of poor team or lack of balance are gone if they ever existed. It's just one very large man now revealed to be a very small person.

But there's next years, there's always next year and in a panicked way he'll probably predict a perfect season with the championship as almost an afterthought. What else is there for him to say? I'm sorry? Because, really, who would believe that?

Congratulations to the Mavericks who played their game and won. It's what you're supposed to do.  

Twelve hours later. The verdict is in as far as the press is concerned and LBJ would be well advised to not read or listen or watch anything that isn't on the "Disney" channel. To say what's being written, said or photographed is scathing would be understatement. From the hostile to the nauseated, pick your choice as to how deep you want to see the knife stuck. And, as of now, there's no one around to pull it out. It's a good thing they celebrated the victory last year, at least they'll have that memory but, meanwhile, on the streets of Miami, they're not hanging crepe, just preparing for a hangin'.

PTwe

The Arizona Diamondbacks have certainly emerged from the dark end of the street and have found themselves on the bright side of the road.   After two seasons of being mired in last place in the NL West, they have arisen from the ashes and find themselves at the top of the division standings.  Their resurrection can be attributed to a hard-nosed old school manager named Kirk Gibson and a great coaching staff that includes baseball greats Alan Trammel, Don Baylor, and Matt Williams.  They have instilled into their team to never give up and to always give 100%.  The team currently leads the Major Leagues in come-from-behind wins at 17 and the bullpen, last season the worst in baseball, has been fantastic, lead by closer J.J. Putz with 16 saves and 1 win in 17 opportunities.  I watch every game every year, and it sure is refreshing to see the team on the right path now after a couple of 90 loss seasons back-to-back.  I know that the season is only a couple of months old, but Gibson is clearly at the top of the candidates for National League Manager of the Year.

Meanwhile, as the Diamondbacks are winning back fans in geometric numbers, the NFL lockout now stands at 80 days and counting with apparently little or no activity going on.  The fans of the NFL are beginning to feel really alienated, and I (certainly as a fan) feel likewise.  We are within a month of the time when it is going to start costing the owners big money, so it makes sense that the lockout will (miraculously) be settled within that time frame.  Each team has 10 home games in their season ticket package, two of them being pre-season games.  So if the strike lasts long enough to cancel just the pre-season, the owners stand to lose 20% of their revenue before the regular season even begins.  Mark in down on your calendars, the lockout will end by July 4, and it definitely will not be a miracle.  It is all dollars and sense (sic).

A lot has been made about Scott Cousins taking out Buster Posey at the plate, breaking Posey’s leg in the process.  Let me assure you, Cousins was entirely within his rights to bowl over Posey, who had chosen to block the plate.  In a sport where it sometimes takes a 100 years to change even a minor rule, you can bet no rule changes are forthcoming.   Part of the controversy seems to center on the fact that Posey is an up and coming superstar and that Cousins is a bench player.  I feel for Posey and wish for his speedy return.  I also hope that Cousins fulfills his dreams and plays for many years in the major leagues. 

Much has been written in the last few weeks about legislation in the making that will prohibit Internet writers from using YouTube videos in their articles.  I believe this to be an infringement on freedom of the press.  Perhaps the heirs of Shakespeare should sue Dire Straits and the uber-talented Mark Knopfler for liberally borrowing from “Romeo and Juliet” to write this brilliant tribute to the world’s most famous star-crossed lovers.  I hope that my point has been made, The Bard would surely have approved.

Thanks for visiting my blog, and any comments that you might have on the way out would be greatly appreciated!