Archive for the ‘Basketball’ Category

Odds and Sods

Thursday, June 7th, 2007

(If every CSI show can pimp a song from The Who, I should be able to borrow an album title without getting crucified.)

Let’s play catch-up.

So what happened last Friday on my wife-and-child-free weekend? Four bars on Friday adding up to eleven hours of fun for me but an extremely boring post for Canon Fodder. Most of my entries read as follows:

“11:05 – First beer.”

“1:00 – Bleu cheese nachos.”

“1:17 – Fifth beer.”

“5:29 – ??? beer.”

Riveting stuff. I could probably extrapolate a slew of stories from my notes and produce a Homeric tale of epic proportions, but reader feedback has shown shorter posts are more preferable. Ask and you shall receive, or in this case, not receive as I’ll attempt to be more succinct.

A quick synopsis of Friday, Saturday and Sunday: I drank a lot, staggered into and out of half-a-dozen bars, attended a luau-themed wedding reception and didn’t get a lick of writing done. Most of my sports watching consisted of mere glimpses up at whatever game was playing. (Way too much women’s softball and arm wrestling for my liking, but either was preferable to poker.) The wife and kid arrived home safe-and-sound on Sunday night (but not before another delay on the tarmac and an additional extra hour trapped on a plane with a pair of toddlers for no apparent reason). As I said, riveting stuff.

But a ton of stuff did happen in the world of sports last week that I didn’t take the opportunity to touch on. Here we go…

Carlos Zambrano and Michael Barrett of the Chicago Cubs got into a dugout scuffle that carried into the locker room and resulted in multiple stitches for Barrett.
It brings a whole new meaning to the term “battery mates”.

Sticking with the Cubs, Lou Pinella was ejected on Saturday and later suspended for an argument with an umpire.
It’s only June and the Cubs are coming apart at the seams. Does anyone believe this guy could handle the pressure of managing the Yankees as he was so commonly thought to be heir apparent?

A little more baseball: Roger Clemens’ first start for the Yankees was bumped back until the weekend when New York travels to Pittsburgh due to a “groin” strain.
Are you telling me the Pinstripes weren’t eager to have Clemens work his first game kinks out versus an American League lineup? Expect another mysterious ailment to befall the future Hall of Fame pitcher if his turn in the rotation comes up on a roadtrip to Boston. I’m no conspiracy nut, but I think the rumors of Clemens’ cowardice have some merit and I believe the Yankees realize their savior is mortal. What are the chances Cashman signed Clemens to distract the media and fans from the Yankees last place position in the standings and buy the team a bit more time to turn things around?

LeBron “King” James led the Cleveland Cavaliers through Detroit and into the NBA Finals.
Now we’ll be inundated with LeBron versus Duncan stories because of their conflicting styles. My prediction? The Spurs and their “boring” (unless you actually enjoy watching teamwork and an unselfish superstar making everyone around him better) style over the Cavs in six. LeBron will win one game alone on talent, and another because of some hometown officiating but there’s nothing to make me believe they can overcome a polished team like the Spurs. One more title will cement Tim Duncan’s NBA legacy and the torch can be passed to LeBron next year.

Tank Johnson of the Chicago Bears has handed an eight-game suspension for violating the NFL’s new conduct policy.
Let’s hope he doesn’t spend all this newfound time on his hands hanging out with Pacman Jones. On the bright side, Michael Vick’s probably going to get a lot more than just eight games at home so he can keep Pacman company when Tank goes back to work. (Moral of the story: play with guns and thugs but don’t mess with PETA.)

The Anaheim Ducks won the Stanley Cup over the Ottawa Senators in five games.
(I’ll attempt to write this without sounding bitter as Ducks happen to be the team that knocked my beloved Red Wings out of the playoffs.) Hockey of the lowest common denominator. That’s the only way I can describe the way the Ducks play. Grind, hold, grind, hold, cheap shot, grind and hold some more. I’m willing to believe goalie J.S. Giguere is a wonderful guy and loves puppies and helps old ladies across the street, but in hockey terms, this guy is overrated. Way overrated. I don’t even believe he’s the best goalie on his own team. Now I’ll have to endure the rest of his career hearing how he’s a Stanley Cup winner. And I don’t even want to talk about Chris “Elbows-Up” Pronger getting his name engraved on the most precious trophy in all sports. The only aspect of this whole debacle I’m happy about is Disney’s influence (the former “Mighty” in the team nickname) will be left off the cup. (Okay, I’m done being bitter.)

The MLB draft is being shown live on ESPN this year.
Though I’m happy to see the coverage, how long will it be before folks realize this isn’t the NFL or NBA draft where players can immediately impact their teams? At best, a small percentage of these players being drafted will have so much as a cup of coffee in the big league. Sorry boys and girls but you’ll forget about these first round picks long before they ever lace-up the cleats for your favorite team. That’s just the way baseball works.

New Zealand is headed to the America’s Cup.
Though yachting is technically a sport (I think, maybe), there’s no way I’m going to cover it no matter how much of it my wife forces me to watch. It’s just a bunch of rich guys on boats. I can see the same thing in a rap video with the additional benefit of some booty-shakin’ thrown in. In other words, it’s a bunch of people I’ll never associate with doing something I would never care to do. (Sadly, I wonder if it’s getting better ratings than the NHL on Versus.)

I’ll cut it off here lest I offend my readers with short attention spans. Pop in tomorrow when I should have another new post. If you like what you’ve seen, keep stopping by and pass the word about Canon Fodder on to friends. Have a question or comment or even a biting criticism? Send them my way at jeff@canon-fodder.com.

Into the Heart of Darkness

Tuesday, June 5th, 2007

I had the wife and kid to the airport at 7:10 pm. Five minutes to unload and exchange a few kisses and then…

…FREEDOM!!!

(To put this into perspective, it wasn’t quite the Mel Gibson as William Wallace being gutted like a trout cry of “FREEDOM!!!” as much as Aretha Franklin’s “FREEDOM!!!” refrain during “Think” in The Blue Brothers.)

Oh, what the heck. Let’s roll the tape. Musical interludes are fun.

[youtube]http://youtube.com/watch?v=QVImeWXWck0[/youtube]

(Don’t you feel better now? Admit it, you do. Everybody loves The Blues Brothers.)

So I’m just pulling onto the expressway when the bat phone rings. A coworker spotted yesterday’s bat signal and answered the call. He would be waiting at an old haunt of mine from back in my most epic of drinking days. I was going to begin my weekend with a step into the past. The Salty Dog was beckoning.

The Salty Dog. The building is shaped like a big boat. Kind of like Noah’s Ark. The beer is cheap; four types of draft beer and no other options available. The barmaids are scantily-clad and will do shots if you’re buying. It’s small. Twenty patrons and you’re facing standing room only. It’s dark. Very dark. Remember the scene in This is Spinal Tap when Nigel Tufnel is explaining how the band’s amplifiers go up to eleven? No? Here’s the clip:

[youtube]http://youtube.com/watch?v=AhVWJgIzftE[/youtube]

Well if the Salty Dog has lights on dimmer switches, they go down to -1. “But why not make zero absolute black?”

“Because our lights go darker.” That’s the Salty Dog in a nutshell. To be fair, the darkness probably is a benefit because the place is a pit. The barmaids will never be confused with those found at Hooters. Utter darkness and alcohol bring these beer matrons up to average at best. If the girls start looking good, it’s time to stop drinking and call for a ride because you’re in no shape to be doing anything let along operate a motor vehicle. At that point you’ve gone beyond beer goggles and slid all the way to being pronounced legally blind.

Needless to say, the Dog isn’t somewhere you aspire to go; it’s the place you end up. Back in the day I ended up there a lot. Were it not for nostalgic purposes (and being a glutton for punishment), I wouldn’t have been there Thursday. With a $1.50 beer in hand and two Detroit teams facing Cleveland teams (Cavaliers versus Pistons in Game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals and the Tigers visiting the Indians in a battle for the top spot in the AL Central) I settled in for an evening of drinking and sports watching.

Gary Sheffield was tossed for throwing the knob of his broken bat in the direction of the umpire. It took three teammates to keep a very-agitated Sheff from getting at the official. Considering their bench was already thin because of injuries to Brandon Inge and Carlos Guillen, this doesn’t bode well for the Tigers.

Fifteen minutes later Antonio McDyess was dismissed to the showers for a flagrant foul on Cavalier forward Anderson Varejao. The biggest difference between the two instances is how Sheffield was ejected instantly (for seemingly nothing) while NBA officials debated tossing McDyess for almost two minutes before showing him to the door for what was a blatant violation. It was only the first quarter and the Pistons were down their best bench player. If Cavs pulled out a close road victory, this foul would loom large.

(And, of course, it did. King James led the Cavs to victory in overtime crushing the Pistons’ will so much they offered only meager resistance in Game 6 and lost the series. On the bright side, the Tigers split their four-game series by taking both games on Saturday and Sunday so the weekend wasn’t a total debacle for Detroiters.)

In the midst of my beer and sports orgy, I kept receiving calls from the wife. They were still sitting on the tarmac. My wife, her pregnant friend, a two year old and my eighteen month old daughter ended up sitting locked in a plane on a runway for three-and-a-half hours for a flight that normally takes less than two hours. I felt bad for not being there with them. Then the Tigers came up to bat and another beer was delivered so I forgot my family’s woes until the next phone call.

The bat signal also led to a few other phone calls serving to set Friday’s agenda. Beers at a local brewery at 11 am. Dinner with a hockey teammate. An invitation back to the Salty Dog for beers in-between. Friday was shaping up nicely if I decided to skip out of work.

This continued until around 11 pm. I opted to pull the pin on the evening so as to make a half-hearted attempt at going to work on Friday. Destination: home.

My brother works the afternoon shift and knew the wife was headed to New York so come midnight, he was on my doorstep. The Pistons loss was complete. The wife finally took off. My brother and I discussed our up-coming fantasy football league for the next three hours complete with a visit NFL.com for statistics and the creation of four Excel spreadsheets. It was the first week of June and we’re already getting prepared for fantasy football. (It’s because of moments like this one I’m glad to be married because if I were single, stuff like fantasy sports would absolutely own me.)

2:30 am – The wife and kid touched down at LaGuardia more than seven hours after I dropped them off at the airport. Thank you, Northwest Airlines.

3:00 am – My brother headed for his home though there was another phone call to discuss how our dedication to our fantasy league is bordering on a sickness.

3:30 am – My wife and daughter were safe in their hotel room in Manhattan. I was due at work in four hours and in another bar in less than eight. Day One was in the books and Day Two was looking promising.

Does Canon Fodder tickle your fancy? Keep checking in and passing it on to friends and family. Have a question or observation? E-mail me at jeff@canon-fodder.com.

Check back tomorrow and I’ll attempt to wrap the whole weekend that was.

The Cheating Scale (Part II)

Friday, May 25th, 2007

Last week we examined the lesser offenses on Canon Fodder’s Cheating Scale (Part I). Today we’ll knock off the remaining six degrees of cheating of our first draft. (Remember, this scale is to be a living document which will require constant altering. That’s where you, the reader, come into play.)

Picking up where we left off, here are the hardcore instances of cheating in the world of sports.

Willing Infractions – These are times when a player acknowledges a play is illegal and does it anyway. (Usually this is because the punishment is preferable to the outcome if they don’t commit the penalty.)

In hockey terms, this is something as simple as a defenseman dragging down an opponent rather than allowing them a naked breakaway. Most coaches would agree two minutes in the box is better than permitting a game-breaking scoring opportunity.

When on the gridiron, an offensive tackle might have to commit a holding penalty to protect his quarterback’s blindside. Ten yards tacked on to the line of scrimmage is a better alternative to scraping your franchise star from under 300 lbs. of bloodthirsty, mongoloid defensive end.

Basketball has institutionalized the practice of committing a foul to the point it’s a strategy. Try and think of a close game recently when the trailing team didn’t attempt to foul so as to preserve the clock and give themselves another chance to win. It’s to the point where the final two minutes of an NBA game has become a free throw shooting contest.

Premeditated – Where the previously-mentioned Gentleman’s Violations are often crimes of opportunity, the following are a conscious, premeditated effort by the player to garner an illegal advantage.

NFL players have been rumored to use substances from Stickum-covered hands (Fred Biletnikoff) to Vaseline-slathered shoulder pads (Barry Sanders). (I can recall an instance when officials had to stop the game to check Sanders’ jersey for a slippery substance because of complaints by the defensive team. No substance was found.)

Sticks with too much curve are the big premeditated crime in the NHL. Elite scorers are notorious for having certain sticks for the first and second periods of games, then a different (less-curved, more legal) stick for the third period when opponents are more likely to ask for a measurement. Until recently, goalies pushed equipment regulations to the limit with oversized jerseys (Patrick Roy) and padding bordering on medieval armor (Garth Snow).

Baseball players are the worst offenders when it comes to premeditated cheating. Corked bats are the hitter’s typical modus operandi. Sammy Sosa had a bat explode in 2003 resulting in a seven-game suspension for corking. Albert Belle had a bat confiscated that led to a break-in of the umpires’ dressing room in 1994. One crime begat another.

The history of pitchers doctoring balls is long and storied. Hall of Fame pitcher Gaylord Perry made a career of slathering the ball in Vaseline to the point he approached the company in an attempt to advertise their product. Their rumored response? “We soothe babies’ backsides, not baseballs.”

Cheap Shots – Of all the ways a player can break the rules to give themselves a competitive advantage, the least sportsmanlike is the cheap shot. This happens when one player disrespects another competitor – often one with superior talent – to the point they opt to injure them. This type of frustration-laden form of cheating is the dirtiest way to play and is typically met with hefty fines and suspensions.

Dale Hunter made NHL history with a vicious hit on Pierre Turgeon after a goal was scored in a playoff game. Hunter’s explanation was he hadn’t noticed Turgeon scored. When the league handed out a twenty-one game suspension, critics joked it was twenty for the hit and one for the bad excuse.
[youtube]http://youtube.com/watch?v=GWVb8AFf4Dk[/youtube]

The flagrant foul has been a big topic of discussion in the NBA. Here’s a pair of instances when players took advantage of an opportunity to deliver a bit more force than was necessary.
[youtube]http://youtube.com/watch?v=AJz6Op1cBTQ[/youtube]

http://youtube.com/watch?v=XGDduMtMnvw

Even the No Fun League (NFL) has its share of blatantly opportunistic hits. The first link is a nasty head stomp and the second is a compilation of mostly legal hits, but there are more than a few clothesline tackles and instances of spearing. Enjoy!

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lW4XUpN9bPQ[/youtube]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Z0EcnHwQMA

I couldn’t locate any footage of Ty Cobb breaking up a double play with his spikes up or a clip of Juan Marichal clubbing catcher John Roseboro with a bat but stuff like that is hardly uncommon in baseball. Bean balls and bench clearing brawls offer the cheap shot artist plenty of opportunities to practice their craft.

Performance-Enhancing Substances – Let’s air something out right off the bat; just because a league (say, Major League Baseball for example) didn’t specifically ban a particular substance doesn’t mean its players could legally use the said substance. You see, if the material in question is a controlled substance and the player is using it without a prescription, then the P-E substance is illegal under U.S. law and by that definition banned by all the professional sports leagues. Unfortunately, baseball officials compounded their problem by ignoring it for years rather than battling the overly-powerful players union. It wasn’t until public opinion turned and Congress addressed the subject that Bud Selig had the leverage necessary to override the union.

MLB’s culpability in this issue doesn’t change the fact players across all the major sports are using P-E substances in an attempt to better themselves. Personally, I don’t have a problem if Barry Bonds and Jason Giambi want to enlarge their skulls to bobblehead size in their pursuit of homeruns or if Ken Caminiti sacrifices his testicles for an MVP award. My problem is when they won’t admit using these illicit substances (except when cornered by a grand jury). If a player wants to fly down to Mexico (where most of these substances are legal) during the off-season and bulk-up, that’s hardly cheating. “I eat a dozen raw eggs for protein and then shoot some horse steroids before hitting the gym.” Cool. Just come out and admit it. If a player believes steroid use isn’t cheating, take a stand and stop hiding. (And don’t pull a Jose Canseco and promote the use of P-E drugs after-the-fact. Come out before you’re caught and lead a movement to legalize these substances if you really believe their use isn’t cheating.) Players like Bonds, Giambi, McGwire, Sosa and Caminiti spent their entire careers trying to separate themselves from the pack and enter the spotlight. To argue “everyone else is using” is nothing more than a copout by millionaires attempting to escape public backlash when they’ve been exposed as frauds.

Metagaming – When you’re using factors beyond those allowed within the context of the game, you’re guilty of metagaming. Stealing signs because your player on second base can interpret the catcher’s signals is a lot different from having a guy with binoculars in the centerfield stands relaying the upcoming pitch to the batter via a light on the scoreboard. (Oh yes, that’s been done.)

There have been occasions when NFL coaches have had to sacrifice their beloved headsets because those used by the opponent were malfunctioning. Coaches cover their mouths for fear of lip-reading spies watching them. More than one playbook has ended up in enemy hands. In the uber-secret world of NFL coaches, this all makes sense. To the rest of us it’s just paranoia run amuck.

One would think a less-static game like hockey wouldn’t have room for metagaming but accusations flew during the 1993 Stanley Cup finals when Montreal coach Jacques Demers called for a stick measurement of a Kings player. A power play resulted and the Canadiens tied the game and later won in overtime. Rumor had it the staff of the Montreal Forum had inspected the Kings’ equipment when it arrived and informed the coaching staff of the illegal stick. Though this story hasn’t been confirmed, NHL teams carefully guard their equipment to this day when in opposing venues.

Just last year the St. Louis Cardinals grumbled their suspicions the Chicago White Sox were using a centerfield camera to steal signs from the catcher. Chicago manager Ozzie Guillen laughed at the accusation but antics of this type go back generations. Bobby Thompson’s “Shot Heard Round the World” is hinted to have come about in large part due to Giants coach Herman Franks situating himself in the centerfield clubhouse and relaying the catcher’s sign back to the dugout via a buzzer. The players then signaled the Thompson at the plate. None of this can be proven, of course, but the technology was certainly in place and such a feat would be even easier to pull off today.

Gambling – The most insidious form of cheating often results because of gambling. Sometimes it’s merely a college point-shaving scheme. Arizona State was rocked by a scandal in 1994. The University of Toledo is dealing with point-shaving over a span of years from 2003 to 2006. This is simply asking a team to go ahead and win, but just don’t win by more than a certain margin. The players in question usually receive money or benefits from bookies to ensure a game turns out with a specific outcome. Bookies don’t necessarily care which team wins the game, just the margin of victory is within their betting parameters.

The outright throwing of a game rarely happens and it’s probably because of the reaction to the Black Sox scandal back in 1919. The book and movie Eight Men Out details the events leading to eight players of the Chicago White Sox accepting money to lose the World Series. All eight (and a player for the St. Louis Browns with knowledge of the scheme) were banned for life.

The most common form of gambling in sports might actually come in the form of a player or coach betting on their own team to win. Pete Rose is the obvious example that comes to mind of someone using their gambling as an actual defense for their crime. “I bet on my team every night. I didn’t bet on my team four nights a week. I bet on my team to win every night because I love my team, I believe in my team,” said Rose in a radio interview back in March. The problem Rose is oblivious to happens when a gambler forsakes the long-term interests of the team for a short-term bet on a game. How many times did Rose overwork a pitcher because he was desperate to win a bet when a night of rest would have benefited the team and reduced the player’s risk of injury? It’s hard not to be dubious as to whether any manager foolish enough to break baseball’s cardinal rule (which is clearly posted in every locker room in the league) would be willing to put this organization first when money is on the line. Even if Rose didn’t know it was impacting his decisions, the goal of winning every night (which is completely unrealistic) probably hurt the Reds under his leadership. Gambling’s tendrils twist themselves to make even the most well-meaning of sportsmen into villainous heels. For this reason alone, gambling is the worst offense and tops the Cheating Scale.

So there you are, Canon Fodder’s Cheating Scale from minor infractions to the most heinous of offenses. Though it’s impossible to paint all these crimes with the same brush, this list should at least shed some light onto where these rank in the grand scheme of sportsmanship.

Hopefully you’re still enjoying what you’re reading here at Canon Fodder. If so, keep passing it on to friends. Have a question or comment (or a correction for something like the Cheating Scale)? E-mail me at jeff@canon-fodder.com. Anticipate a regular slate of entries next week as things get back to normal in the life of yours truly.