Brett Farve, I’m tired of you.
Granted, it’s not as if I was ever a big booster of yours; quite the opposite, actually. Normally I couldn’t have cared less about you. I don’t really follow the Packers, or any of the NFC North teams. I watched your last game, yes, but before that I can’t remember the last one of yours I watched.
So what? I can’t remember the last Tampa Bay I’ve watched, either. But it’s not the team you play for, Farve – I’d feel the same way if you played for the Steelers, the Raiders or the Toronto Argonauts.
See, the reason I’m so tired of you is that I’ve heard all this before, and it’s getting dumber and stupider and it keeps getting worse, much like Waynes brothers movie.
A couple years ago, when you cried on national TV, I assumed that was it. Here is his farewell tour, a chance to say goodbye to an icon of the 90s. I was okay with that, even if it was a bit trite.
But then you came back. Again, fine – a year of farewells, capped off with a dramatic overtime loss to the Giants in the snow. Not the best way to go out, sure, but a memorable one.
But now you want to come back once more, for the third time, by my count. You saw how close you were to another title, you saw how the only difference between you and the Lombardi trophy was the foot of Lawrence Tynes, splitting the uprights in a freezing cold Green Bay night. So close you could almost feel the trophy, couldn’t you.
Hate to burst your bubble, Brett, but that isn’t how it went down and that’s not likely to happen again.
If it wasn’t for a memorable catch, the one where David Tyree held the ball to his head, the Giants wouldn’t have won that game. They basically lucked out in that bowl. I’m not sure you would have.
The Packers are a team in transition. They’re moving on, rebuilding, and they don’t look to compete like they did last season.
But then again, Brett, I hear you don’t want to play for the Packers anymore. The Vikings, maybe. Or the Jets. Perhaps the Buccaneers. Makes no difference.
The Vikings are a possible threat: a weak division, an okay defence (20th overall, but first in the league against the run) and a great running back. You could work there. They wouldn’t need you to pass too often, just hand the pig to Purple Jesus. But would the Packers trade you to a division rival? I doubt it.
How about the Jets? Rumors had you going there for a while, although they’ve seemed to quiet down a little. But they’re a bad team, worst of the bunch. They already have two good quarterbacks and you don’t want to be a backup. If you think this is drama, Brett, just try this act with the New York press.
That leaves the Buccaneers. Like the Vikings, they’re a team built around a running back: in this case, Cadillac Williams. But he’s hurt and on the comeback trail. It’s a team where you’d have to throw the ball a lot, maybe take a few hits – Garcia was sacked 19 times last year while splitting duties. That’s as many sacks as the Packers took last year as a team.
Maybe that $20 million to retire was a pretty sweet deal after all.
Look Brett, I’m nobody to tell you if you should or shouldn’t come back. It doesn’t really matter to me. Frankly, I couldn’t care less. But I don’t want to see you tarnish your image either. That’s what all these comebacks can do.
Ali couldn’t pull off the comeback and he was the greatest. Magic Johnson was just a shadow of his former self the second time around. Roger Clemens’ comebacks – one or two, depends on how you count them, with the Astros and one with the Yankees – helped to ruin his image.
Just be careful Brett.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Monday, August 04, 2008
Canada needs to change Olympic priorities
Gearing up for the Olympic there seems to be a number of suprises: no smog, the USA basketball team hasn’t been upset (or even challenged) yet and there’s a slim, slim chance that Canada may win a medal of some kind.
In most countries, that would be seen as a disappointment; most would rather try and rake in the medals, to win as many as they could. But this is Canada, where the 2002 Olympics are fondly looked back upon, even with 17 total medals.
But this year, it looks like the current trend will continue: Canada has been winning less and less medals in the summer games since a high of 22 in the 1996 Atlanta games: in the last summer games, Canada won just 12 medals.
So this could be why Canada has all but thrown in the towel in some events. Only one boxer has made the cut, Adam Trupish. The women’s archery team only received a quota spot because the Netherlands pulled out. The women’s soccer team, perhaps the best Canadian team in the Olympics, is only ranked ninth in the world.
And those are the teams that qualified for the Olympics: the basketball team, for one, didn’t.
So perhaps the Canadian Olympic Committee should revamp their look at the Olympics. Maybe they should not worry about the summer games and instead focus on our specialty: the winter games. After all, the next winter games will be held here, in Vancouver, and the whole world will be watching, as it were.
It’s a point that has been increasingly raised lately, most vocally by Prime Time Sports. And it’s a point that makes more and more sense the more I think about it.
Up here it’s winter from November until April – if not longer. The national sport is hockey, a game best played on ice. We know cold, it’s in our collective wheelhouse. So why focus on it?
Add to that our population, about 33 million. That’s the same as that other Olympic powerhouse…
Nobody.
Canada’s population is about that of Morocco, Algeria and maybe Kenya. None of those countries are powerhouses: Algeria has won five medals this decade, Kenya four and Morocco eight. Compared, fair or not, Canada does well above the norm.
But there’s something to be learned from them: they don’t overextend themselves. Morocco hasn’t participated in a winter Olympics since 1992. They harbour no attempt to compete with powerhouse countries like China, Russia or the United States.
Those countries, with many more people and considerably more resources, always contend for medals and almost always deliver, as they should.
But Canada cannot. We don’t have the same money to pour into our Olympic programs and don’t have the same amount of raw talent to compete with. As a result, we overextend ourselves and as a result, disappoint.
Look up the last two Olympic games held by Canada. Look at the medal count: underwhelming, isn’t it? Look at the last time a Canadian team won a gold medal in the summer games. Sad, isn’t it?
Look at how much better Canada already is in the winter.
That’s why Canada needs to re-evaluate it’s Olympic programs and focus on what we do best – the winter sports. Because at the current rate, we’re already better at the winter games. Because the next games are in Canada.
Because it’s about time Canada started to contend.
In most countries, that would be seen as a disappointment; most would rather try and rake in the medals, to win as many as they could. But this is Canada, where the 2002 Olympics are fondly looked back upon, even with 17 total medals.
But this year, it looks like the current trend will continue: Canada has been winning less and less medals in the summer games since a high of 22 in the 1996 Atlanta games: in the last summer games, Canada won just 12 medals.
So this could be why Canada has all but thrown in the towel in some events. Only one boxer has made the cut, Adam Trupish. The women’s archery team only received a quota spot because the Netherlands pulled out. The women’s soccer team, perhaps the best Canadian team in the Olympics, is only ranked ninth in the world.
And those are the teams that qualified for the Olympics: the basketball team, for one, didn’t.
So perhaps the Canadian Olympic Committee should revamp their look at the Olympics. Maybe they should not worry about the summer games and instead focus on our specialty: the winter games. After all, the next winter games will be held here, in Vancouver, and the whole world will be watching, as it were.
It’s a point that has been increasingly raised lately, most vocally by Prime Time Sports. And it’s a point that makes more and more sense the more I think about it.
Up here it’s winter from November until April – if not longer. The national sport is hockey, a game best played on ice. We know cold, it’s in our collective wheelhouse. So why focus on it?
Add to that our population, about 33 million. That’s the same as that other Olympic powerhouse…
Nobody.
Canada’s population is about that of Morocco, Algeria and maybe Kenya. None of those countries are powerhouses: Algeria has won five medals this decade, Kenya four and Morocco eight. Compared, fair or not, Canada does well above the norm.
But there’s something to be learned from them: they don’t overextend themselves. Morocco hasn’t participated in a winter Olympics since 1992. They harbour no attempt to compete with powerhouse countries like China, Russia or the United States.
Those countries, with many more people and considerably more resources, always contend for medals and almost always deliver, as they should.
But Canada cannot. We don’t have the same money to pour into our Olympic programs and don’t have the same amount of raw talent to compete with. As a result, we overextend ourselves and as a result, disappoint.
Look up the last two Olympic games held by Canada. Look at the medal count: underwhelming, isn’t it? Look at the last time a Canadian team won a gold medal in the summer games. Sad, isn’t it?
Look at how much better Canada already is in the winter.
That’s why Canada needs to re-evaluate it’s Olympic programs and focus on what we do best – the winter sports. Because at the current rate, we’re already better at the winter games. Because the next games are in Canada.
Because it’s about time Canada started to contend.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
The Sonics? That team doesn't live here anymore.
It was a dark night, chilly and damp, when the stranger came back to town. Looking for something to do, he wandered into a nearby Starbucks, hoping to shoot the breeze with somebody.
Sitting down next to a jowled man in a king Felix jersey, he asked: “Hey, how about those Sonics?”
The man looked across, a scowl on his face. “What Sonics? You mean that restaurant?”
“No, no,” replied the stranger. “The Supersonics. The basketball team. You know, green jerseys, 1979 NBA Champions.”
The scowled man shrugged and went back to his mocha frappuccino. So the stranger moved on along the Starbucks, asking about the Sonics.
“They played in the ’96 Finals, against MJ and the Bulls.”
“Was that the first year the Jazz collapsed, or the second?”
“They beat Houston in overtime of game seven in ‘93”
“I thought that was Phoenix.”
“They went to two finals in a row in the 70s!”
“Yeah, the Blazers were a good team back then, eh”
He kept moving, asking, getting nowhere.
“Shawn Kemp?”
“Wasn’t he that bum in Cleveland?”
“Jack Sikma?”
“He was that Milwaukee guy, right? The one who broke McHale’s foot?”
“Ray Allen?”
“Yeah, the Boston guy. Good outside shooter.”
Exasperated, he hailed a cab and went downtown. The arena was down there; maybe he’d find a fan or two hanging around.
“Take me to KeyWest.”
“Key what? You mean the office complexes downtown? They’re closed, but it’s your dollar, chief.”
The stranger got no relief downtown. No arena, no basketball fans, not a sign of the Sonics. Just a bunch of tall buildings, coffee stores and the needled tower.
Finally, he walked over to a homeless man, lying on the curb, covered in a dirty green and gold blanket. Throwing him a nickel, he asked what happened to the Sonics.
“The Sonics? That team doesn’t live here anymore.”
“What happened?”
“Coffee man sold them to a man who traded away the stars, bought out the lease, moved them to Oklahoma. All that’s left now is a box of jerseys and a handful of bitter fans.”
“And nobody did anything?”
The homeless man shrugged. “What was there to do? The commish let it happen. The owners let it happen. All the fans got was to keep a name.”
“That’s horrible!”
“That’s progress, baby.” The homeless man rolled over and covered his head with the blanket.
Dejected, the stranger walked back to the Starbucks.
“How about those Mariners?”
Sitting down next to a jowled man in a king Felix jersey, he asked: “Hey, how about those Sonics?”
The man looked across, a scowl on his face. “What Sonics? You mean that restaurant?”
“No, no,” replied the stranger. “The Supersonics. The basketball team. You know, green jerseys, 1979 NBA Champions.”
The scowled man shrugged and went back to his mocha frappuccino. So the stranger moved on along the Starbucks, asking about the Sonics.
“They played in the ’96 Finals, against MJ and the Bulls.”
“Was that the first year the Jazz collapsed, or the second?”
“They beat Houston in overtime of game seven in ‘93”
“I thought that was Phoenix.”
“They went to two finals in a row in the 70s!”
“Yeah, the Blazers were a good team back then, eh”
He kept moving, asking, getting nowhere.
“Shawn Kemp?”
“Wasn’t he that bum in Cleveland?”
“Jack Sikma?”
“He was that Milwaukee guy, right? The one who broke McHale’s foot?”
“Ray Allen?”
“Yeah, the Boston guy. Good outside shooter.”
Exasperated, he hailed a cab and went downtown. The arena was down there; maybe he’d find a fan or two hanging around.
“Take me to KeyWest.”
“Key what? You mean the office complexes downtown? They’re closed, but it’s your dollar, chief.”
The stranger got no relief downtown. No arena, no basketball fans, not a sign of the Sonics. Just a bunch of tall buildings, coffee stores and the needled tower.
Finally, he walked over to a homeless man, lying on the curb, covered in a dirty green and gold blanket. Throwing him a nickel, he asked what happened to the Sonics.
“The Sonics? That team doesn’t live here anymore.”
“What happened?”
“Coffee man sold them to a man who traded away the stars, bought out the lease, moved them to Oklahoma. All that’s left now is a box of jerseys and a handful of bitter fans.”
“And nobody did anything?”
The homeless man shrugged. “What was there to do? The commish let it happen. The owners let it happen. All the fans got was to keep a name.”
“That’s horrible!”
“That’s progress, baby.” The homeless man rolled over and covered his head with the blanket.
Dejected, the stranger walked back to the Starbucks.
“How about those Mariners?”
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Was game six rigged? 82games finds out
The most infamous game of the past 25 years - and maybe ever in the NBA - was played a little over six years ago and prompted allegations that it was rigged by the NBA; even Ralph Nader called for an inquiry (he's gotta keep himself busy between doomed election campaigns, one assumes).
It was game six of the 2002 Western Finals between the Lakers and the Kings. Most remembered for the Lakers 40 free throws and Kobe hitting Mike Bibby with an elbow and Bibby getting the foul.
And it's divided people unlike any other game in the history of the NBA. Mike Wilbon of the Washington Post called it the worst officiated game he had ever seen. Bill Simmons called it the most disturbing subplot of the postseason: "from an officiating standpoint, the most one-sided game of the past decade".
This past post-season, when Tim Donaghy said that this game was determined by company men, it took on a life of it's own.
But now Roland Beech, the founder of 82games.com, has broken the game down, call by call by call, in excruciating detail. And he's found out the game may may have been unduly effected by the officiating. It's a long red but it's worth it.
One unaddressed point, though: as Bill Simmons pointed out in 2002, Dick Bavetta was also involved in several other controversial games:
Now, if only 82games.com could break down some other games and settle some other debates, for once and for all.
It was game six of the 2002 Western Finals between the Lakers and the Kings. Most remembered for the Lakers 40 free throws and Kobe hitting Mike Bibby with an elbow and Bibby getting the foul.
And it's divided people unlike any other game in the history of the NBA. Mike Wilbon of the Washington Post called it the worst officiated game he had ever seen. Bill Simmons called it the most disturbing subplot of the postseason: "from an officiating standpoint, the most one-sided game of the past decade".
This past post-season, when Tim Donaghy said that this game was determined by company men, it took on a life of it's own.
But now Roland Beech, the founder of 82games.com, has broken the game down, call by call by call, in excruciating detail. And he's found out the game may may have been unduly effected by the officiating. It's a long red but it's worth it.
One unaddressed point, though: as Bill Simmons pointed out in 2002, Dick Bavetta was also involved in several other controversial games:
1999, Knicks-Pacers, Game 3 ... 1999, Knicks-Pacers, Game 6 ... 1999, Spurs-Knicks, Game 3 ... 2000, Knicks-Heat, Game 7 ... 2000, Lakers-Blazers, Game 7 ... 2002, Celtics-Nets, Game 4
Now, if only 82games.com could break down some other games and settle some other debates, for once and for all.
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