Continue Reading April 19th, 2007
Desktop trebuchet a little dull? Try this desktop pitching machine on for size. It includes 12 soft miniature balls and a collapsible bat. And I thought I was risking my job tweaking my baseball fantasy league at the office; how about an actual game of baseball? Show me one office where a person could get away with this and I will be quitting Gizmodo in a heartbeat. $25.
Product Page [Via Nerd Approved]
Continue Reading April 19th, 2007
With last night’s wrapup of the regular season, the playoff matchups are set. There are eight conference quarterfinal contests, and the whole shebang kicks off this Saturday.
Because we feel that no one understands the NBA more like the way we wish we understood the NBA than the gang at Free Darko, we’ve asked them to write up previews of every playoff series throughout the postseason. It will help us understand what’s at stake in each series, what matters, what it means for the individuals involved, their fanbases and their history. And there will also be funny, bizarre, non-linear photographs.
After the jump, our last playoff preview of the day, the series between the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Washington Wizards. No Arenas. No Arenas. Damn. Well, let’s see LeBron turn it on, anyway. If you want to hop in with your predictions in the comments, please do. Because we type about sports, and people expect it, our prediction is Cavs in 5.
And now, Bethlehem Shoals, from Free Darko, after the jump. Enjoy.
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First off, let’s eradicate all the things that Cavs/Wizards is not. It’s not going to be a rehash of last year’s firestorm, which arguably made both LeBron and Arenas who they are today. It’s not the James/Wade tango that nearly was — which is fortunate, because there was zero buzz about this possibility and it would have knocked one out way early. And to be perfectly fair to my sources, this isn’t the same LeBron who romped into the 2006 postseason with one hand up immortality’s skirt.
At least among picky eaters, the LBJ’s stock is at an all-time low. Blame it on Mike Brown’s stifling offense, the inept Cleveland front office, or our own skewed version of what accomplishment means. But in one choppy season, Gloria’s boy squandered all the superstar capital he’d earned against the Pistons and Wiz. The point isn’t whether it’s fair to expect James to save Cleveland on his own — admit it, last May we all thought he could. So for the team to drop from the “must-watch” status and LeBron get taken for granted, well, that’s deflation. I know all about the man called Larry Hughes, and how he’s taken up the point guard position. I think that’s more a testament to how broken the Cavs are, in the same way that black markets flourish and warlords build schools in war torn lands. The awakening of Pavlovic, the hairy spatters of Anderson Varejao, Boobie Gibson’s range … all these things are true, and yet none are mutually exclusive with a commanding LeBron. The playoffs are theater, and there’s really nothing to bring the house down like the messianic urge fulfilled.
As for the damaged Wizards, well, these times are hard. Let’s not underestimate how much Arenas needed these playoffs — sure, his star rose like a blob of helium this season, but those missed free throws still linger. Even if you believe that he’s over that, kindly turn to his kid-in-a-candy-store ‘06-07. Without a weighty playoff run to back up all the swag, he’s no better in the books than T-Mac in Orlando: a fantastic individual performer who can’t drag his team through the rapids. Alas, Gilbert is gone. Caron Butler clutches at his broken hand; he believes in the will above all else, and yet can offer nothing but the faint promise of a second-round return. Antawn Jamison keeps up his head and pushes onward, with Deshawn Stevenson cackling by his side. But the cupboard is bare, hope long ago replaced with cobwebs, and a dignified exit the best-case scenario. And for the media to respectfully ignore them in their hour of ruin.
Luckily for them, this series will be all LeBron, all day. The more absent and pale the Wizards are, the less it will sting; if James goes the eff off, this will become a refresher in what made us all witnesses. Here’s the young fella’s chance to restore his luster, to get us believing again that basketball belongs to him. What better an opportunity than a first-round opponent that belongs in the lottery? Now, this could backfire hopelessly — if the Wiz do anything more than steal one game, James will be accused of lacking substance. Somehow, though, I just don’t foresee that happening. As Agent Steinz astutely observes, LeBron’s really the only Cav that’s in any way imposing. But LeBron out to renew his good name — well, it will only a take a little of that for the Wizards to evaporate and for the King James Version to get back on that heavenly track.
What words to give the Wizards faithful? To thee, I would say: This dismal week will be all about looking inward. Remember the good times. Bathe in the warmth this season left in your stomach. Send a friendly message to the aforementioned Steinz, who has played an instrumental role in making most of the world into Wiz enthusiasts. When this team was up, the high was delirious. When the the rough patches set in, they passed the time with good humor. The temptation will be strong to venture into these God-foresaken waters, but be warned: Your love will not save you here. Turn away, know that it will soon be over, and instead make this a nondescript celebration of what a better person this team made you.
Cavs in five. LeBron on every shoehorn. Numerous Andray Blatche close-ups. And then a whole summer of foment from the Armies of Gilbert.
Continue Reading April 19th, 2007
Pro Football Weekly has unearthed a pleasant little nugget from the endless parade of young men flexing in their underwear that is the NFL Draft: Three of the top expected draft picks admitted to smoking pot.
Amobi Okoye, Calvin Johnson and Gaines Adams all admitted during interviews at the NFL combine that they have used marijuana, according to a story reported by Pro Football Weekly on its Web site. All three are regarded as top-10 picks and all three could be off the board in the first five picks.
PFW says it seems unlikely this would affect their draft stock, and we say thank heavens to that. We hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but we no longer are too taken back by marijuana use by our athletes. In fact, we’re starting to think there’s something weird if they’re not doing drugs. (This is why we wouldn’t draft Brady Quinn, by the way.) In fact, we’re pretty convinced everybody else who was asked is lying.
The Way We Hear It [Pro Football Weekly]
Wanna Get High? [AngryT]
Continue Reading April 19th, 2007
We find that the best way to truly appreciate how much fun and liberating being a sports fan can be is to remember the truly awful days, the days where everything goes wrong and falls apart, the times when you wonder why, exactly, you put yourself through all this. We used to call this “Days When Jason Marquis Starts.”
Anyway, yesterday was definitely one of those days for Seattle sports fans. The Sonics probably aren’t coming back, they were blown away in their final game and, oh yeah, Felix Hernandez left his start with tightness in his elbow. It’s enough to make a guy want to find a empty greenhouse somewhere, a fistload of heroin and write an illegible note to your child and batshit bonkers wife.
But, alas, through the despair is hope! Look at the Bay Area yesterday, for example. It is only when we remember when matters were hopeless that we can appreciate true glory. At least, that’s what we’re telling ourselves, with the Cardinals two games under .500. That’s the plan, and we are sticking to it.
I Give Up [Sportszilla]
What A Day For Bay Area Sports [The Big Picture]
Continue Reading April 19th, 2007
This photo is from Alyssa Milano’s MLB Blog, and it features Alyssa sitting on Tommy Lasorda’s lap.
Yep. Tommy Lasorda. Careful, Alyssa … very careful.
*touch ‘em all* [MLB Blogs]
Tommy Lasorda Wants You To Know He Doesn’t Pay For Sex [Deadspin]
Continue Reading April 19th, 2007
This is a treat for me as Jeff Pearlman is the author of two of the best books I’ve read in the past year, Love Me, Hate Me and The Bad Guys Won! He’s also a former senior writer at Sports Illustrated, current columnist at ESPN.com and long-time John Rocker slayer. So he’s kind of a big deal, but you never would have known it by the promptness of his responses to my interview request and subsequent line of questioning. I thank him for the time and hope you enjoy the Q & A …
1. Some of my favorite parts from the book take place during the Pittsburgh years. Considering Bonds’ bad reputation and the Pirates’ lack of a winning season since ‘92, is any player more hated anywhere than he is in Steel City?
Well, I date back to when Reggie Jackson returned to Baltimore as a Yankee, and the fans just killed him. That was pretty rough. And Mets fans always hated George Foster. But it really is hard to think of someone as despised by a city as Bonds is by Pittsburgh. It’s a combination of factors—left as a free agent for more money, not a nice person, cheater, went on to terrific career while Pirate fans were left with Al Martin. You’d be angry, too.
2. If you were Giants owner Peter Mag and possessed a time machine, would you go back to ‘93 and pull Bonds’ offer sheet off the table?
No way. When Magowan purchased the Giants the franchise was a complete mess. Remember, they were all but gone for St. Pete. Signing Bonds and hiring Dusty Baker completely reinvigorated the franchise, resulted in a new stadium and made Magowan a ton of money. Sure, Bonds has been a pain of late. But it’ll go down as one of the best business decisions the man has ever made. Love him or despise him, Bonds is a gate draw whether the Giants are 10 games up or 20 out. That’s priceless.
3. Aside from Bonds, which other athletes have you encountered that play by a totally different set of rules than the everymen (i.e. the Mark Carreons and Jose Linds of the world)?
Hmmm—there aren’t that many. Back in the day Ken Griffey, Jr. had something of an attitude and sort of separated himself from Seattle teammates. But that was immaturity, and now he’s really beloved in the clubhouse. Frank Thomas is another guy who matured with age and learned it’s better to be one of the guys than one of one. Barry just has an ego that forces him to maintain a distance; to want people to notice.
4. Bonds’ first wife was a strip club bartender. That marriage ended with a relationship he had with a porn star. His second wife was an exotic dancer. What is it with Barry Lamar and classy ladies?
Let’s be honest—he’s not alone in pro sports. Athletes love strip clubs, strip club bouncers, strip club buffets, strip club phone booths, strip club bartenders and—of course—strip club strippers. Anything less would be civilized.
5. What was your favorite Barry Bonds fashion statement over the years? The ‘Just Say No’ wristband? The ‘40/40′ pendant? Other?
I actually liked the multi-colored cockatoo sweaters of the Cosby Show Era. Not that I can’t make too much fun—my wife still hasn’t forgiven mefor the vest I wore on our first date.
6. The book states, “Bonds four favorite performers are Barbra Streisand, Kenny G., Michael Bolton and Celine Dion.” Dude, WTF?
Rumor has it Air Supply just missed the cut.
7. Last year in an interview with Deadspin, you said, “Bonds doesn’t want Aaron’s record. I’m convinced of this. He certainly wants to pass Ruth, the ultimate icon in the game of baseball. But I think Barry’s take on Aaron is different.” Now that Bonds has long since passed the Bam and is just 17 short of the Hammer, is that still the case?
Obviously, I’m a moron. I truly, truly thought Bonds had more decency than to cheat and pass Aaron. I know, in hindsight, that sounds moronic. But I believe some things are sacred, and that to Bonds, Aaron’s record was too much. Pass Ruth? Great. Pass Aaron? Maybe not. I just wrote a column about this on ESPN.com—I think it’s incredibly sinful for Bonds to come along, load up on the HGH and surpass a record as important as 755. It shows a true lack of humanity and humility.
8. What’s more important to Bonds at this point: breaking Aaron’s record or winning the World Series?
Well, if you talk to enough teammates and ex-teammates, it’s always been records first, winning second. How else do you explain a veteran ballplayer who goes out of his way not to offer tips to teammates; who selfishly stays to himself as those around him fail. It doesn’t make Bonds unique—lots of guys are me-first. But it doesn’t make you think he’s dreaming of the World Series every night.
9. The prologue shares a hilarious — and failed — attempt to interview Bonds for this book. Have you crossed paths with him since? If so, how’d that go?
Nope.
10. How will history remember Barry Bonds? Or is to too early to say?
Brilliant talent, horrible person, overtaken by greed. Could have gone down as a legend, instead will go down as a cheater. Sad but true: Barry Bonds retires after the 1998 season and never touches a performance enhancer, he’s a first ballot Hall of Famer and one of the game’s, oh, 20 greatest players. Now he’s dust.
Previous interview:
Michael Litos, ‘Cinderella: Inside the Rise of Mid-Major College Basketball’
Continue Reading April 19th, 2007
With last night’s wrapup of the regular season, the playoff matchups are set. There are eight conference quarterfinal contests, and the whole shebang kicks off this Saturday.
Because we feel that no one understands the NBA more like the way we wish we understood the NBA than the gang at Free Darko, we’ve asked them to write up previews of every playoff series throughout the postseason. It will help us understand what’s at stake in each series, what matters, what it means for the individuals involved, their fanbases and their history. And there will also be funny, bizarre, non-linear photographs.
After the jump, our next playoff preview, the series between the Miami Heat and the Chicago Bulls. It’s a rematch of last year’s playoff battle, and it’s clear that the Bulls would rather not be here. (The Wizards are looking rather appetizing right now.) If you want to hop in with your predictions in the comments, please do. Because we type about sports, and people expect it, our prediction is Bulls in 7.
And now, Dr. Lawyer IndianChief, from Free Darko, after the jump. Enjoy.
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I started writing this in my South Chicago apartment as it caught fire, and I might as well have kept writing until the damn thing burnt down. NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO PLAY. Dwyane Wade is coming to town, and he has people from Oak Lawn to Robbins. Chris Quinn’s Notre Dame frat brethren are downing Car Bombs over at Poag Mahone’s. James Posey is saving up money to pay for his Flagrant-2’s, and this time he’s a bit tipsy.
Of course, the dude in the building that NOBODY in Chicagoland wants to talk about right now is The Daddy. Shaquille O’Neal still has some pre-2006 Larry Brown-related issues to work out regarding Ben Wallace poking and prodding all up in his midsection on the way to two consecutive finals appearances. Because Flip Saunders didn’t give Wallace his proper burn during last year’s Pistons-Heat series, Shaq feels like he didn’t get that real-deal payback, that sensation of slamming a four-time defensive player of the year to the ground.
So, if Ben Wallace is listening, then I’m saying it loud and clear: Now is your time. You spent the year brooding, missing your friends in Detroit, looking for people in the locker-room that you could discuss Sade with and wondering why you were surrounded by guys born after the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded. You were unapproachable to teammates who played at better colleges than you did but who look up to you anyway. You had back pain. You watched the Chris Webber situation unfold and wondered if you could sulk your way on to a different team. You looked in the mirror, asking yourself if Tyson Chandler has better abs than you. Now you can earn that big contract. You can make John Paxson look like he knew what he was doing all along, and you can solidify your legend in Chicago.
Big Ben came out firing a lot of big words at Bulls media day back in October. He talked about showing what he could do offensively, wanting to prove doubters (including former coach Saunders) wrong about his deficiencies on the offensive end and letting people know that he hasn’t lost a step on D. All that chatter amounted to a lot of missed free throws and many underwhelmed Bulls fans. Now is one of those special moments — just like when Cat Stevens nearly prayed to God to save him from drowning — that a man can seize on all that is before him, and alter his life course while inspiring people in the process.
Of course, Big Ben vs. Shaq is not the lone storyline. For one, the Bulls’ frontline is more than just Wallace-deep. P.J. Brown is Louisiana levee-tough. Mike Sweetney is “well-rested.” Martynas Andriuskevicius is seemingly still on the roster. Secondly, Shaq is ultimately going to get his points. I expect a cage match in the post and a dogfight on the perimeter, where Kirk Hinrich and Ben Gordon are going to give Dwyane Wade (at 68 percent) and the banged up trio of Gary Payton, Jason Williams, and Eddie Jones a little more speed than they can handle. With these frontcourt/backcourt matchups essentially balancing each other out, the series must therefore be won in the spheres that are difficult to define, the absence of space, the trigonometry of a higher mental plane. I am of course referring to Chicago’s dual Gobots, Tyrus Thomas and Luol Deng.
Luol Deng, the Bulls’ team MVP provides too much versatility for the monolithic Udonis Haslem and the perpetually satisfied Antoine Walker. Next to Tracy McGrady, Deng was the most underappreciated do-it-all player of the 2006-07 season. While most pundits gawked at Dirk (”CAN YOU BELIEVE A SEVEN FOOT WHITE PLAYER IS STEPPING BACK TO SHOOT THE THREE?”), Deng combined the efficiency of Krzyewski-ball, the formalism of a South London upbringing and a variety of moves carried out with the pastoral serenity of the Sudanese Dinka tribe. Simply, Deng is an extremely tough matchup for the Heat, and the world will soon know his name.
Whereas Luol Deng embodies controlled chaos, Tyrus Thomas defines chaos in its purest form. Just saying the word “bracket” around Thomas gets his heart pumping Absinthe and increases his cognitive engagement to the point of instinctual telepathy. Thomas knows his next move before understanding what that next move really means. We saw him enter the season with a composed arrogance that has not waned throughout mild injuries, rookie struggles, fines and scrutiny for his expressed dunk contest apathy, Scott Skiles’ mindgames and staccato transitions from 12th man to starter and back. Thomas recognizes the magnitude of the stage, and the role to which he is assigned. With Deng allowed to freelance, and Thomas as his understudy, the Bulls should prove too energetic for the Heat, causing Pat Riley’s Irish eyes to glaze over, while wondering in which tropical location Bill Cowher is currently posted up.
Continue Reading April 19th, 2007
Thanks to The Tao Of Stieb, we present you this video from the Blue Jays-Red Sox game in Toronto. We didn’t know men named Sully were allowed north of the border.
Classy Boston Fans Enjoy 2-1 Loss Last Night [The Tao Of Stieb]
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