Continue Reading August 14th, 2007
You remember that NBA refs-are-racists study from a few months ago? Well, if you thought baseball — a sport that’s never had any racism, ever — was immune from that, wrong wrong wrong, you.
According to Science Daily, umpires tend to make calls that help out those of their own race.
Daniel Hamermesh, the Edward Everett Hale Centennial Professor of Economics, finance professors at McGill and Auburn Universities and a University of Texas at Austin graduate student analyzed every pitch from three major league seasons between 2004 and 2006 to explore whether racial discrimination factors into umpires’ evaluation of players. This summer, they presented their findings in the paper, “Strike Three: Umpires’ Demand for Discrimination.”
“Umpires judge the performance of players every game, deciding whether pitches are strikes or balls,” Hamermesh said. “Discrimination affects the outcome of a game and the labor market, determining the pitcher’s market value and compensation.”
We don’t understand this study, at all. Mainly, a look at Major League Baseball’s umpires reveals that — according to our count — there are 72 umpires in the majors right now. Sixty-six of them are white guys. Where, exactly, did they get their data? Good luck finding an umpire to study the response to Ichiro … or any Cubans … or … jeez, there’s just too much.
Batter Out [Science Daily]
Continue Reading August 14th, 2007
Believe it or not, folks, the NFL season is much closer than you can possibly imagine. So close, in fact, that, if we’re going to fit in every NFL team preview by the start of the season, we have to go this early. So there you have it.
Last year, we asked some of our favorite writers to opine why Their Favorite Team Was Better Than Yours. Ultimately, we found this constrictive, and it also might have killed James Frey. So this time, we’ve just asked them to just run free, talk about their team, their experience as a fan, their hopes, their dreams, their desires for oral sex. All our teams are now assigned; if you sent us an email and we didn’t get back to you, we’re sorry, and we accept your scorn. But today: The Philadelphia Eagles.
Your author is AJ Daulerio, who writes the Cultural Oddsmaker column for this fine establishment and is a staff writer at Philadelphia Magazine. His words are after the jump.
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The two most pressing questions facing the Eagles this season are simple:
1) Will Donovan McNabb’s balky legs hold up ?
2) Most important, how involved will Andy Reid be this year, considering his family troubles?
Injuries happen, obviously, and the Eagles have been prepared to handle most situations, including the loss of a franchise quarterback for significant stretches of time, three out of the last four seasons. Last year, McNabb’s injury seemed to be the death knell for a promising year, especially since he was, at the time of his injury, on track to be the best quarterback in the league. But even before he was injured, the Eagles hit a standstill. Their defense suddenly looked old. Their offense looked inept. After 12 weeks of slumbering capped off by a performance against the Colts which saw them give up, oh, 9 jillion yards on the ground , it was obvious that problem needed to be solved. So Dawkins woke up, Trotter took a breather, Michael Lewis took a seat, and suddenly, holes were clogged, sacks were made and a defense that played on its heels for the first half of the season was suddenly rejuvenated.
They ran the ball more, and Brian Westbrook started showing just how invaluable he is. And, yes, Jeff Garcia did his part as well. That homo always has a seat at the Daulerio table.
But the majority of that salvation came through coaching. And Andy Reid had to devote an enormous amount of time into that type of tinkering to save a season that was quickly headed to Shitsville. That overtime came at a price: At home, his family was imploding and, most likely, he didn’t know the severity of it until it was too late. With two sons facing some serious personal and legal issues this year, it’s obvious Coach Reid has to make a priority shift and delegate some responsibility. Unfortunately, that added responsibility will most likely fall into the chunky lap of Eagles assistant head coach Marty Mornhinweg . If Mornhinweg doesn’t try to think too much, I’m surprisingly comfortable with him stepping up and taking a little more control. Hopefully, Jeffrey Lurie will keep on top of him every single day by simply handing him a sheet of paper that states “No, Marty, we don’t want the wind.” In fact, as soon as there’s an overtime situation, Mornhinweg should be dragged off the field by security, duct-taped and not released until the game is completed. Or, at least, until after the coin toss.
My mother and father went to training camp in Lehigh again this year. My father, emboldened with a sense of responsibility thanks to the favorable response he received from last year’s preview, did his best to come up with even more of his thoughful on-the-scene reporting and cogent analysis.
“I tried to get hit in the head with a football,” he said. ” This girl got hit in the head when Akers was kicking field goals, and they gave her the ball. So I stood behind the goal posts for a while trying to get hit.”
Thank you?
“No problem. I didn’t get hit, though. So, I didn’t get a ball. I was talking the cheerleaders though. Two of them were African-American. One of them was a real dazzler.”
Good for you. So, any stand outs from camp so far?
“We saw that Jean-Claude guy again. He’s feisty.”
Max Jean-Gilles. Right.
“Yeah, and Sheldon Brown almost put a hit on Hank Baskett like he did to Reggie Bush last year. He let up though. He probably would’ve killed him.”
That’s good…
“I really was hoping for something out of Bunkley. But he seemed like he was getting man-handled every time he was out there.”
Right. But Eagles PR hand-job Dave Spadaro thinks otherwise.
“Really? I should read that. Oh, and your mother took pictures.”
Great!
Anyway, mom’s not Annie Liebowitz. Most of the photos she took from their day at camp looked like this:
That’s my father in the sweet hat. I’m hopeful this junk removal company sees his raw potential as a spokesperson.
Regardless of the photos, he made an effort. And efforts like this should be rewarded. I could only think of one reward suitable enough for him:
MAMULA…
Yes, that is a photo of yours truly and one Mike Mamula, who is inexplicably dressed in a tuxedo. I found Mamula at a Lonestar Steakhouse inf Voorhees, N.J. We had an early dinner together last night. Needless to say, I had trouble keeping my head from exploding the whole time, thanks to the dumbfounding surreal nature of this situation.
“Iced tea or coke?” that was the first thing Mike Mamula said to me. We sat down and with the country music playing, the Jersey August mugginess, the restaurant seemed even emptier than usual at 4:30 in the afternoon. Empty in spirit, that is. And then, there was Mamula: Smiling, affable, seemingly ready to hang out for an hour and answer questions that I, idiot Eagles fan, assumed he gets asked all the time. Like “Do people treat you badly in the city? It seems like everybody dogs you?” and watched him respond to dopey remarks like “You know, if you did take steroids, it probably would’ve given you that extra second to sack the quarterback…”. Yep.
And, Mamula, sitting there, in a tux, about to go judge a local Dancing With the Stars contest didn’t even flinch. If he does get these questions all the time, he doesn’t care. He’s got a gorgeous wife, twins, a house in the Main Line, and, apparently, all the self-respect in the world. Nothing I said was going to impact him at all. Half of our conversation didn’t even involve any pertinent journalism-y questions. We just…talked.
I even told him about how my father used to call and bash him on 610.
He smiled. “He’s passionate!” Mamula said. Then he offered to go out to his car, get a photograph and sign it for him.
Mike Mamula, MAMULA, is probably one of the most genuinely kind people in the world — and I’m not saying that just because he could break me in half with his thumb. Okay, maybe a little bit. But, honestly, he was very generous with his time and patiently sat there as I stammered through some annoying questions. He even talked about the infamous junk-showing incident that allegedly happened in Lehigh during the summer of 1997. Kind of. The more formal q-and-a style interview can be seen over at PhillyMag.com tomorrow.
Yes, I’ve started blogging on a somewhat regular basis at The Daily Examiner. Philadelphians, please stop by whenever you can. We’ll walk through this crazy season together…
Continue Reading August 14th, 2007
So we were watching ESPN’s “Monday Night Football” last night, and we noticed this odd feeling, a peculiar sensation that we had, up to that point, never experienced. We couldn’t figure it out; were we developing some sort of cold? And then we realized: We were watching “Monday Night Football” … and we were enjoying every single person in the booth.
Yes, the addition of Ron Jaworski to the booth has already dramatically altered the whole dynamic in there. (We’re not the only skeptic turning around on this.) Jaworski looses up Tony Kornheiser — he, lo, laughs at his jokes! What a concept! — and lets Mike Tirico work as a sort of moderator (which is what he does best), but what he brings most to the contest is … well, he actually knows what he’s talking about. He breaks down plays in a smart, accessible way, without sounding like a snot about it. He’s likable and informative. See? It’s really not that hard.
The jury is still out — it was just one preseason game, after all — but yeah: We might have to get used to not despising the entire “Monday Night Football” crew, people.
Official “MNF” Review: Game One [Awful Announcing]
Continue Reading August 14th, 2007
As controversial as Barry Bonds — who broke the all-time home run record last week, in case you missed it — is to many people, you’d imagine his best pals are murderers, dogfight enthusiasts and those who try to cut in lines at the car rental place. But it turns out, his best buddies are a little more innocuous than that; his friends are actually Seavers.
During an interview the other day, someone asked Bonds about Hank Aaron, and he started talking about hockey, for some reason. And his winter hockey pal.
I could never play hockey. I’ve tried. I can ice skate, but it’s not good, you know? I play hockey in the wintertime with (actor, game-show host) Alan Thicke. Me and my family. We do. We go down to the ice skating rink, all of us. Funny thing, I’d never seen my son skate, and he beat all of us.
Man, Bonds, we tell you, that guy’s edgy. He should be careful of falling in with the wrong crowd.
Bonds Says He’ll Likely Play One More Year [Pittsburgh Live]
Continue Reading August 14th, 2007
One thing we’re not necessarily looking forward to, if it comes to that, is a Michael Vick trial. We already have read all the gory details and aren’t necessarily eager to see them rehashed in gruesome detail, with pictures. And these trials inevitably involve a bunch of lawyers talking to each other in ways we don’t understand while Vick sits impassively in the back. (They probably won’t let him doodle on his PSP.)
Well, we might be in luck. Vick appears to see the writing on the wall. His co-defendants are testifying against him, and any potential jury pool clearly is not gonna be leaning in his direction. (If they’re white, anyway.) Therefore, he could be considering a plea agreement.
Sources told ESPN’s Kelly Naqi that Vick attorneys Larry Woodward and Billy Martin met with federal prosecutor Michael Gill and the investigators on Monday afternoon. The attorneys planned to speak with the quarterback in the evening to see what direction he wants to go in.
They say he has until Friday to decide, or the appropriate trial documents will be filed. So, it’s possible this could be over faster than we realized. There might be no place left for Vick to scramble.
Vick Must Decide Whether To Accept Plea Agreement [ESPN]
We might not get 
