by Trevor Freeman
Two men. One a giant in his sport and the other a literal giant had news that seemed to fly under sport’s radar last week. It is surprising considering the two names involved. However their news has the potential to impact the sports scene in 2008. For David Beckham being asked to rejoin England and Roy Hibbert deciding to rejoin the Georgetown Hoyas means there could be a little more sizzle on each side when they show up for America and Europe’s version of the Madness.
It happened again. Steve Nash and the Sun’s elimination from the playoffs produced a nation-wide question: Why doesn’t Nash, a two time MVP, get blamed when his team loses early? Well, that is not only a stupid question; it is an easily answered one. First, last season wasn’t Nash’s fault. They didn’t have Amare, and last I checked they still did pretty damn good. Second, this season was Robert Horry’s fault. He single handedly gave the Suns their exit tickets, and you can thank the NBA for that. The suspensions of Stoudamire and Diaw were ridiculous. But I don’t want to focus on the Suns. I don’t want to take it one step further and say,” Nash? What about Shaq and D-Wade?” I don’t even want to begin to dissect the many reasons why those two stars were heavily responsible for a drastic collapse and sweep by the hands of the younger Chicago Bulls. Wait, yes I do.
It’s a breezy Sunday afternoon on the basketball courts of Valle Verde 5 and the familiar sound of the ball bouncing on the parquet floor reverberates in the surrounding areas of the park. Inside the grounds, the court is littered with men in sneakers and basketball jerseys. On one bench, one player is doing his stretching. On the other bench, another one is lacing up his sneakers. On the other end of the court, two players take turns hoisting up 30 foot three-pointers. In the distance, another two are engaging in NBA small-talk.
If you search the Arlington Park website, you’ll find no report about why the horse track was closed for two years from 1998-1999.
You’ll find out how the track recovered in the 1980s from a fire that destroyed the grandstand, forcing the track to move its meet to Hawthorne Race Course, located across town in Chicago; you’ll find out how in 1981, Arlington Park became the first horse track in the history of the world to offer a $1 million purse for one race, the Arlington Million; you’ll find out that Secretariat, Spectacular Bid, John Henry, Native Dancer, and Citation have been among the countless horses to run and win at the track; you’ll find out that Cigar tied Citation’s 16-race winning streak at the track; but the only mention of the track going dark is that it reopened in 2000 after a two year absence.
Well, it’s Ping Pong Ball day in the NBA- where franchises have the chance to rise from the ashes of mediocrity in one fell swoop of David Stern’s hand, but I’d like to focus on something with a touch more importance.
If you haven’t done it already I strongly recommend that you check out PeeYourPantsForTheBrewers.com, a site that encourages all fans of the Crew to join together in urination if, and when, the Brewers clinch the NL Central title this season. It is easily the funniest baseball-related thing I have seen all season. Maybe the funniest ever. I can’t say what would possess people to want to pee their pants in elation, but apparently Brewer fans are just a different breed of people.
The site’s introductory paragraph says it all: “I have never seen a full Brewers season where they make the playoffs. Born in July 1982, I missed that amazing World Series run. It’s been a long 24 years- the longest playoff drought in baseball. With a young team of quality stars and shrewd management, we’re boldly making our move. I get so excited thinking about the Brewers now, a little pee comes out. In fact, when the Brewers make the playoffs I will pee my pants.”
Already 4,822 people have made the pledge to celebrate the Brewers in unison. You, too, could join their ranks, if you’re a Milwaukee fan who is unperturbed by wet, filthy, unsanitary pants, just by going to PeeYourPantsForTheBrewers.com and filling out the registry.
The Stadium is teetering, Mo’s bridge burning down, Torre’s magic touch dissolving. The boss blusters, Abreu is flustered… too many problems need solving. And while chaos ensued, and the denizens booed, there wasn’t a game left to save. We are left with the ghost of memory, and whoever else decides to stay.
And I wonder:
What’s the point of worrying again?
Here we are. All bets are off, as the winners of the Western and Eastern conferences square off to determine who hockey’s champion is for the 2006-07 season. It has been a long year, filled with surprises. One of the surprises will be representing the East in the Ottawa Senators. Ottawa finds themselves in the Stanley Cup Finals after not much of a challenging series against Buffalo. Meanwhile, the west will see one of its best teams from start to finish, the Anaheim Ducks. Anaheim took out the Detroit Red Wings in six games.
The NFL amazes me. Once again, they have found a way to not only enrage a superstar, but they may have found a way to phase him out, as well. Brett Favre, merely an average season away from three major records, recently expressed his displeasure for Ted Thompson and the Green Bay Packers organization when they failed to bring in Randy Moss.
I’ve always had an affinity for the point guard position. More than any other position in basketball, I love how they can affect the outcome of a basketball game. Depends on who you ask, but more often than not, point guards have the ability to change the course of a game to their teams favor.
Yes, I still believe that “height equals might” in basketball, albeit with a little reservation. While it’s always convenient to have a low post presence on the offensive side of the ball and a “patrolman” on the defensive side, centers don’t have many responsibilities apart from scoring down low, guarding the rim, and getting rebounds.
Growing up in Atlanta in the 1980’s with a father that went to Mississippi State offered me a few things as a sports fan. No, no, not enjoying games on prime time television or the thrill of winning the big one. Think more along the lines of humility and hopelessness. Being a fan of the Falcons, Braves, and Hawks as well as Mississippi State football and basketball in the 1980’s was much like pledging Omega in Animal House. More often than not, I found myself assuming the position and shouting “Thank you, sir, may I have another!”