You might say Broadway is the best thing going for New York City. Grabbing a slice, a bagel with a smear and a regular coffee, shoe shines, Junior’s cheesecake, Stage Deli, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Boston Sucks t-shirts at Yankee Stadium. The list is as long as your imagination of what makes New York great.
There is now one less thing that makes New York the best city in the world. Christopher “Mad Dog” Russo has left WFAN, ending his partnership with Mike Francesca after 19 years. This pair arguably created sports talk radio. Their level of preparation for each day combined with their strong opinions and quick recall to make those long afternoon and evening drives something I looked forward to. I called in a couple of times, awed with the responsibility of sounding coherent and insightful, biting off as little as I felt I could make do with.
Their show is by far the biggest thing I miss about our time living in New Jersey, and there isn’t even a close second (shoveling snow and bailing out our basement after any heavy rain is somewhere way down the list). It truly is the end of an era for sports fans everywhere.
We’re trained monkeys, we Americans. Every four years, we plop down to watch teenage girls flipping over and over and over again. They pound into the floor in ways that would rip every tendon and break every bone in my ankles (I sit here at two in the morning nursing my second strained calf after an afternoon of soccer coaching followed by two sets of tennis).
The daughter of this guy just took the All Around Gold Medal in Artistic Gymnastics (which used to be called Gymnastics).
We’re all experts in the bizarre scoring, with no clue how the parameters of the scoring are either established or ultimately determined. Much like the ridiculousness that is figure skating, we somehow have to wade into all of this each Olympiad and hope we’ve learned enough to hold a conversation with our neighbor or wife (or our neighbor’s wife).
We weathered the outrageous controversy that the Chinese might actually be too young, giving them the incredible advantage of being too stupid to understand that they should feel terrified that they may lose out on a Wheaties box deal if they fall on their little butts. I do know that if I need bypass surgery, I’m heading to some Middle School in Shanghai and letting one of those little pre-teens take a crack at it.
And now the lanky SMU student from Plano (where a childhood friend played in a 30,000 seat football stadium in high school in the mid-’80s before heading to A&M) has beaten the next Mary Lou Retton. Of course, I stayed up to watch all this mess with an icepack on my calf, then cried as Nastia Liukin fought to hold back the tears on the medals stand as her father received hugs from overweight Pageant Moms in the background.
I watched most of the British Open Saturday and Sunday and was pulling for Greg Norman. After his final round, he was obviously a bit disappointed as he pulled in with a tie for third instead of becoming the oldest man to win a major. He’d kept his head about him the first three rounds, and his new bride Chris Evert spoke what everyone was wondering: would he be able to do it for four rounds.
I think he made just one mistake Sunday. He tried to win rather than simply drinking in this gift that he’d received, the opportunity to walk eighteen holes in the last group of the British Open a decade and a half after he’d been a real player. His wife had restored his passion for the game, and he’d channeled the desire through brutal conditions to be there at the end. I wish he’d simply been grinning ear to ear from the first tee to the last, hit is 3-wood or hybrid off all those tees, drink in every step, and wave at the end. He’ll come to relish this gift in the months to come rather than revisiting all of the ghosts of Christmases past.
It’s a constant since we’ve been here in Upstate South Carolina: head to the golf clubhouse, work until 2:00 (after eating something and drinking a gallon of coffee), watch rain pour from the skies, watch wet golfers flood into clubhouse.
It’s been nice to sleep with my wife (and our youngest), and I have been cranking away here at remote HQ. I’m working away pretty diligently, not much time wasting and goofing around.
I’ve been into podcasts rather than music the last couple weeks. The absolute best podcast that I now listen to daily is World Soccer Daily, the #1 soccer program in North America. When I say the best I mean the best of any subject matter, at least that I’ve found. Steven and Kenny are a riot and combine technical expertise in football (soccer) with the dry humor of Monty Python and Ricky Gervais. They don’t humiliate newbie soccer fans, and humor the morons, the kids, and the know-it-all’s. Steven will go toe-to-toe with anyone on any subject, and they are terrific interviewers with really inciteful questions. If you’re even a passing soccer fan, listen to just one of their podcasts. Subscribe if you are a big-time fan and you’ll be hooked.
I really haven’t watched the Lakers-Celtics much but caught most of the 2nd half last night (outside of Pittsburgh last night and today). In a word, both of these teams are pretty dreadful to watch. I don’t think I give Paul Pierce enough credit because he just looks goofy to me for some reason. Garnett has done nothing special throughout the series. The Lakers really look like not much beyond Bryant. Gasol can’t magically be transformed into some sort of brute inside, and he actually looked more active around the boards than he ever did in Memphis. I don’t know, I think I’d just rather see the results of who wins or not.
As an aside, is there any profession where previous experience matters less than an NBA Head Coach? Would a company take its best salesman and make him CEO? The NBA perplexes me, I must admit.
What a glorious performance by the Dutch. I was in high school (back when soccer didn’t exist) the last time either Italy or France were beaten by three goals. Holland has done it now in successive fashion.
This Orange Crush may not last (they’ve been known to self destruct from time to time). No need to look to the future though. This pair of games were absolute gems.
I absolutely love the national anthems at the start of the games. In honor of this, I’ve posted the top three national anthems. Italy’s takes the top spot for a few reasons. First, they have an uncomfortably long intro where you’re sitting there not really knowing if the thing has started or not. In the middle, everyone goes “Da-da-da-da-da” or something like that, then the song takes a right turn and picks up tempo. It also is very long, much like a nice sunset in San Gimignano.
The French used to be my #1, but it drops to #2. This version from Casablanca is absolutely riveting, a soccer national anthem before there was such a thing.
Honorable mention is O Canada. This one is a quiet version, but it’s tough not to get misty as a Gold Medal winner elatedly sings for her country.
I’ve been totally into Euro 2008, the third biggest sporting event next to the World Cup and the Summer Olympics. The championship started out with a crawl, the games now are absolutely riveting. If you want to get introduced to soccer on the grandest stage, Friday’s games are the ones to watch. Italy-Romania will feature the current World Cup holders trying to recover from the blistering embarassment from their loss to Portugal. Holland-France should be a riot, as the French must get a result from this game and the Dutch looked as good as Spain and Portugal have so far.
iTunes has some great podcasts that I’ve been listening to while working (head to Sports & Recreation in the podcasts section to find the Guardian’s podcast and World Soccer Daily’s, the two best out there). Best websites to stay up-to-date include Grant Wahl’s daily blog, Fox Sports World, and Nick Webster’s blog (also on Fox Sports World). You can follow the games on Soccernet through their Gamecast (click on Live Scores, then pick the game and click on Gamecast).
Probably the news of the weekend was Big Brown’s first to worst finish in the Belmont Stakes. I’ll admit that I’m glad that he didn’t win the Triple Crown, although my reasoning probably doesn’t make any sense. I know less than nothing about horse racing, only watching during the Triple Crown races. Let me give you my perception of what it has become, though. It seems as though a ton of horses are tossed into the Kentucky Derby. More often than not, the Derby favorites get blasted by some other horse who no one had talked about. Then that winner heads to the Preakness, often without most of his friends from the Derby. If he wins, then only a few horses show up at the Belmont Stakes. Often, a couple of good Derby also-rans join some new horses that we’re told are tailor-made for the 1.5 mile trek. My impression in listening to everyone was that this year was some sort of down year in horse racing, that Big Brown was a pretty pig in a bad litter. Missing really is the great build-up duel that us sports fans can just drink up. Horse racing needs Affirmed vs Alydar.
Here’s a great recap of that 1978 duel, narrated by Jim McKay, who passed away this weekend.
Affirmed won the three races by a total of less than two lengths, and the races still are riveting. McKay is a broadcaster who will never exist again. Not one of the beautiful people nor a guy, not prone to overhype, he became one of those iconic voices and faces of sports. ABC Wide World of Sports was part of my youth, and McKay was always there.
The Belmont Stakes of 1978 has to be one of the top five horse races of all time. Affirmed and Alydar were basically two horses who could run exactly the same speed lining up and running neck and neck for a mile and a half. It’s still an incredible thing to watch, these two horses running like a rope connected their necks for the last mile.
The greatest horse in my lifetime won the Triple Crown after a long drought similar to what we’re in the midst of. I don’t have to give you the name of the 1973 Triple Crown winner. McKay’s description is above, and ESPN Sports Century’s two-parter is below. The Belmont Stakes run is described very well in the 2nd part below, a Forest Gump-like sprint for the ages. It was a freak of nature performance, “…an almost supernatural experience.”
Another major disappointment from the weekend was the men’s French Open. I was a big-time youth tennis player and used to eat up everything tennis for a long time. I don’t follow tennis much anymore, and it’s hard to figure out exactly who Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal really are. Federer is possibly the greatest player in history, in the tiny group that includes Rod Laver, Pete Sampras, and Bjorn Borg. Nadal seems more like Guillermo Vilas to Federer rather than Laver’s Newcombe, Sampras’s Agassi, or Borg’s McEnroe. This was supposed to be the year that Federer finally pushed through in the French Open. After the 6-3, 6-1, 6-0 bludgenoning in the final, it is clear Federer will never beat Nadal at the French Open. His only hope to take down the French is for Nadal to be hit by a truck.
I spent most of my time when I wasn’t working this summer watching Euro 2008, arguably the third biggest sporting event in the world after the World Cup and the Summer Olympics. The Group of Death starts today (Holland, Italy, France, and Romania). There is a real magic to the start of every match, and every match is exactly the same. The two teams walk out side-by-side, each holding the hand of a young boy or girl in their opponents kits or uniforms (incidentally, just to show you how we can screw this up, the kids walking with the US-Argentina players in the Meadowlands last night were wearing McDonald’s t-shirts). The teams line up on either side of the referees for the match at midfield, then the national anthems are played. No over-the-top singers, just half of the players gabling the words, half of the players stone-faced, and half of the stadium screaming the lyrics with national pride. The camera pans every time from the center down to the last player, showing each player’s face. Rinse and repeat for their opponent.
I sweated my buddy Liz Lieu through most of the night as she went deep in the $2.5k NLHE event at the WSOP. Busted late in 28th place, which I’m sure she’s excited about yet frustrated with. When you can look around and see the Final Table so close, it stings that much more.
The weekend in sports showed a great deal about what’s right and wrong with sports today. Let’s take a peek.
You don’t need me to tell you how hot MMA is today. The hard-core fans know all the nuances of different fighters and can debate ad nauseum’s whose background and techniques make for the better fighter. As a general sports fan, I dip my toe in when a personality or story pulls me in. CBS and EliteX brought that Saturday night with the Kevin “Kimbo Slice” Ferguson v James Thompson bout headlining the first prime time network airing of MMA. I joined in with the Robbie Lawler-Scott Smith bout, which was becoming a terrific fight until Lawler accidentally poked Smith in the eye. Smith seemed to be trying to get his eye cleared when the physician called the fight, leading to alot of chaos and frustration on both fighters. What was supposed to be the typical powderpuff type of fight for an upcoming fight turned into an embarassment for everyone involved. Thompson dominated Kimbo for much of the bout, turning the streetballing legend into a Greco-Roman what-not-to-do instructional video. Kimbo finally landed a couple of blows in the 3rd/last round, popping this huge cauliflower appendage that used to be an ear on Thompson’s head. After a few more headshots that Thompson was weathering, the ref stopped the fight. Thompson was flabbergasted (these guys are supposed to basically fight until someone submits, right?), and Kimbo almost passed out on the canvas and during the interviews immediately following in the ring.
Mission accomplished for MMA and CBS, as MMA Junkie reports this morning great initial ratings for the telecast even without the Kimbo-Thompson fight (which started after 11:00 EST). But on a night that should have been a terrific introduction to MMA, the sport fell flat for the casual newbie. The announcers overhyped and were so intrinsically tied to the success of the episode, had difficulty for blunt commentary. None of the three could state that Thompson won the first two rounds (when even I could figure that out), nor could they come out and say that he needed a knockout or miracle to keep the Kimbo locomotive surging along. It came off like the WWF, exactly what MMA is not. And I don’t think this was Kimbo’s fault as he seemed quite clear that he was working very hard trying to figure out this MMA thing. No, the whole thing was just a bit off (including the MMA version of the University of Georgia paying the Citadel $500k to travel to Athens and get beat up, which is basically what Gina Carano did when she had to give Kaitlin Young 12.5% of her pay when she couldn’t make weight). That this came from a sport seemingly sophisticated in creating cards and excitement for pay-per-view makes the whole thing even more difficult to figure out.
This weekend was also the end of NASCAR’s racing on Fox for the season, with Kyle “The Evil Man” Busch taking his third race in five weeks. NASCAR gets so many things right when it comes to the drivers and the integration of marketing with the purity of the sport, but I have to say I’ve always been a sports purist when it comes to NASCAR and “The Chase.”. In a word, I hate it. For anyone new to NASCAR, drivers race to see who is in the top twelve in points after the summer (or at some point in the future). The top twelve then are in “The Chase,” and everyone virtually starts even for the last ten races (drivers start now with 5,000 points plus ten points for each race won in the first 26 races, but it basically all starting from scratch).
The Chase was invented to force fans to watch the races at the end of the season when most people are on to college football or the NFL. The fact that the marquee race of the season is the first race always complicates things for NASCAR, but back to The Chase. Maybe I’m just dumb, but I’ve never liked the fact that someone can dominate a season (like Busch is doing now) then have to have all that wiped out, all for the glory of television ratings. Of course, that is the essence of American sport, the irrelevant regular season vs the end-of-season tournament. At the halfway point in the season, only Jeff Burton is within 150 points of Busch, who is starting to make stock car (and truck) racing look like Formula One with Michael Schumacher. I just don’t like it.
What is right with televised sports? The Memorial was won this weekend by white-hot Kenny Perry, the best player in the post Tiger-knee-scope era. He finally held it together to put up a -3 final round and take Jack’s tourney. Seeing Nicklaus there to greet Mike Weir and Matthew Goggin on the last hole was pretty special, and it had to be overwhelming to Goggin, the Aussie who barely kept his PGA Tour card last season. Today is another special part of golf, with US Open qualifiers being held around the US. Top pros join everyone from journeymen to top college players to grizzled amateurs to teaching pros to local high school hotshots, all trying to play their way into our national championship.
Maybe I’ve become an old fart cynic. You be the judge.
