The Deal That Finally Got Done

So John Paxson finally made a deal happen, which raises his batting average (to borrow the terminology of another sport) to about .025, or something in that neighborhood. Let’s give him credit—a lot of credit, in fact—for dumping Ben Wallace and his albatross of a deal. But it’s not like he got a ton of talent or a ton of salary cap relief in return.

And, now that we’re a week or so post-deal, I think we can safely declare the Bulls pretty much unimproved. They’re 1-2 since the deal, and that win actually came before many of the newly acquired players had joined the team.

This is a team that needs do one of two things. Either they need to take a tremendous step forward, landing a big-name, big-impact player who can take the team to the oft discussed “next level.” Or, they need to take a giant step backward, acknowledging that their team, as currently constituted, isn’t going to reach the ultimate goal of a championship. So they retain a few key players but more or less clear the decks for a move back into the rebuilding process. This latter scenario concludes that, although the eighth spot in the playoffs remains there for the taking, the Bulls won’t make a deep run, so might as well start looking to the future.

With the trade deadline come and gone, it appears the Bulls are interested in neither. They’re still just treading water, albeit with a different group of players. And that’s about the worst thing they could’ve done. Maybe it gives them more moveable parts to make a great trade during the off-season. Then again, we’ve been waiting for that for about 3 years now.

It’s the Cover-up, Stupid

Perhaps it’s presumptuous of me to speak for everyone here, but I think that what annoys us most about the current sports scandal trifecta is the cover-up, perhaps even more so than the crimes themselves.

First, we have Roger Goodell. He admits to destroying evidence in the Patriots scandal, despite the fact that this has apparently been going on since 2000. So much for “just one game.” This one truly baffles me. Most all of the time, people destroy evidence of crimes they are complicit in, or evidence of crimes committed by those with whom they are familially or sexually involved. Since we can (I sincerely hope) rule out that last option, where does that leave us? Hint: with the first option. And if they aren’t complicit, then they’re morons. Either way, faith in the integrity of the league is not restored.

Goodell claims he didn’t want the tapes and notes falling into the wrong hands. Wha? Does the NFL commissioner’s office really not have a trustworthy way of safeguarding sensitive information? No locked, secured area? No safety deposit box? No under-mattress storage space, for crying out loud? Either they don’t have this secure storage area, in which case that puts them well behind even Bobby-John’s Auto Body Shop in solid business practices. Or, they have means of securing storage, but they don’t trust this arrangement. In that case, why should we trust them if they don’t even trust themselves? Unless, of course, they’re lying. Again, faith in the integrity of the league remains unrestored.

Then, we have Kelvin Sampson. If you are directly ordered not to do something, and you do it anyway, then we thinking people must conclude that you felt secure that you wouldn’t get caught. You felt secure in your own indiscretion covering-up abilities. Arrogance AND dishonesty—not exactly a winning combination.

The only happy thing we can say here is that it appears, in this case, the cover-up is now over. And someone’s ass is about to get handed to him.

Then, the pièce de résistance of cover-ups: Roger Clemens. Roger, Roger, Roger. First of all, I have to say that this guy must be getting the worst. legal advice. ever. Seriously. Don’t his people have another statistical report to release or something?

I always love the “everyone’s wrong but me” excuse. Sure. Every single person in this case is either a liar, a misrememberer, or a fraud—except you, Roger. You alone stand as a paragon of truth and virtue. It’s a tremendous violation of the laws of probability and feasibility, but you’ve been defying common sense principles (like, say, the idea that a pitcher’s arm tends to break down after years and years of repeating the same taxing, asymmetrical motion) for years now. All thanks to that split-finger pitch though, right? I guess you split-fingered your way past this one too!

I don’t know what kind of pathology convinces a man that adding scores of lies to his ever-growing list of crimes will actually make him look better.

Steroid Fallout (Part 4 of Many)

Although this latest flare-up in the steroid controversy has often left us with more questions than answers, one thing I have learned is why Roger Clemens employs both Rusty Hardin and Randy Hendricks. Not that I was wondering about this in particular, but sometimes knowledge arrives unbidden. Both gentlemen have proven themselves to be arrogant, windbagish asshats—and you know what they say about birds of a feather.

One of Hendricks’ most notable stunts was the release of a statistical analysis that demonstrated that Clemens’ late-career statistics were not all that unusual, or so he claimed. When a panel of professors took it upon themselves to do their own analysis, they came up with a rather different conclusion. They concluded that the results “strongly hint” that Clemens might have been engaged in some “unusual” activity.

Hendricks responds that, “The professors make the mistake of thinking that his career arc should look like the arc of every other pitcher in their selected group.” Oh Randy, Randy, you hypocrisy-deaf tool, you. It was your intelligent idea to compare Roger’s stats to the stats of other pitchers. It was your intelligent idea to suggest that such comparisons might prove instructive on the question of steroids. It was your intelligent idea to posit that similarities should be uncovered and trumpted from 18,000-word documents. And now you think that looking for similarities is a mistake? Now you think that the significance of these similarities is based on a mistaken assumption? Which is it, then? Can we suss out steroid use by looking for statistical similarities, or is that faulty logic? You don’t get to play this one both ways. First it’s “gee, look at all these awesome similarities.” Then it’s “similarities…only a fool would think that we should find major similarities here.” Do please make up your mind.

Otherwise, I guess your meticulously researched report isn’t good for much then, unless I run out of toilet paper.

Keep digging, fellas. That hole is not quite deep enough yet.

Rivalry Week

We are in the heart of college basketball season, and the think tank at the Worldwide Leader has dubbed this week “Rivalry Week.”  Makes sense.  There was a great game in the Raleigh-Durham area last night — even though I couldn’t cheer for either team.  Good basketball.  The “Backyard Brawl” came down to a last-second shot that left Huggy Bear and his Mountaineers just short.  Pitt wins again.

And, of course, I’m enjoying the Big Ten rivalry game of the night.  If I’m being honest, I can admit it’s a down year for the conference.  But that doesn’t stop the talking heads at ESPN.  They know how to create a compelling storyline, and this game has a perfect one to fit the “Rivalry Week” theme.  Indiana v. Illinois — a heated rivalry at any time (thanks to Bobby and Lou) — reached a new level.  Freshman star Eric Gordon v. the nation he spurned.  Crazy orange-clad fans booing every time he touches the ball.  Good stuff.  I must confess that I’m tired of this storyline.  Of course the kid can change his mind, but part of the fun of college sports is that the fans can hate him for that change of mind.  At least it’s a good game… 

Random thought:  I can’t help but wonder what Bobby’s up to tonight…is he watching his old team with his feet up, now that he has entered the ranks of the retired?

Super!

How often do we get a really good Super Bowl game?  Once every four or five years?  Although I can’t say that I felt strongly about who won, I did want a good game, and I was quite impressed by Eli’s scrambling escape and completion.  Plus spending a couple days right after the Super Bowl with real Giants fans (who actually live in New York and love football) added to the fun of the upset.

I did ask the legit Giants fans about their prima donna “I want to play there” QB, and they freely said all is forgiven, and that he is much loved.  Especially with the ring he just earned. 

I spent much of the game cheering for “my” boys — especially one David Diehl, a starter on the Giants’ O-line.  Given Eli’s performance, these guys did their job well, Diehl included.  The former Illini helped Eli have time to complete his share of passes. 

I must say, though, that I think the best part of the Giant upset will be the Manning brother commercials.   I still giggle at the stupid ESPN studio tour commerical with the whole fam, and although the Oreo-eating commercial is incredibly stupid, Archie does a great job being an embarrassed father.  Peyton’s missing football commerical is amusing — through little bro into the mix, and I might actually begin to sincerely like the family…you never know…

Upset Euphoria

Ah, Superbowl Sunday. That once yearly occasion when Bill Belichick breaks out his formal hoodie.

I still think the Patriots had the story going for them, I still think that 19-0 is what people would have wanted to talk about 20 years from now, and I still wish the 1972 Dolphins would go away. That said, because of the videotaping and the supermodel dating and the restraining order baiting, none of this actually translates into feeling bad for the Patriots. And I do congratulate the Giants on using 4th quarter drives and improbable catches in a valiant attempt to forge their own storyline. Plus, I think Eli’s storyline can officially be upgraded to “Eli Manning: who knew?” And I got to add one more thing to my admittedly short list of things to get from a Giants win: the opportunity to watch Peyton Manning cheer, in adorable fashion, for kid brother Eli–even though he could become bitter that Eli has now accomplished, after 5 minutes in the league, what took Peyton about 160 years to do.

But even though they are evil, evil, evil, part of me thinks that it might be kind of heartless for me not to feel bad for the Patriots. They just completed the single largest waste of an NFL season ever. What a completely and utterly useless expenditure of their time and effort. I don’t even think that going 0-16 could match this one in utter futility. All those victories, all those records, all those awards…and they mean a whole lot of nothing about now. Belichick’s coach of the year award? Gone in the time it takes to decide to go for it on 4th-and-13. Brady’s records and MVP? Gone in the time it takes to overthrow a wide open receiver.

However, if I have to pick one person or group of persons the Patriots can blame, then I’m picking the o-line. Seriously. If you can’t even give your quarterback half a nanosecond to the throw the ball during the most important game of your lives, then you are a disgrace and you should seriously consider a career change. I know the Giants had an amazing pass rush going on. Give them full credit for that. But the Patriots can only blame themselves. Something tells me that the o-line won’t be doing any more of those “look how awesomely we protect Tom Brady, just like Visa” commercials anytime soon.

Also, in the “who looks like a big, fat jerk now?” category, we now have Bill Belichick (a frequent entrant in this category), who couldn’t even be arsed to stay on the field until the end of the game. Or, as my brother points out, how about Tiki Barber? There’s a fine line between “analyzing” and “tattling.” One is good, the other is a tactless and cheap substitute. Next time, Tiki, if you’re going to be tactless and cheap, at least be right.