sports

sports — No Comments
17
Mar 10

Five Tips For A Mediocre Bracket

Barack_Obama_fills_out_2009_NCAA_Men's_Div_I_Tournament_bracket_3-17-09

I've watched approximately seven minutes of college basketball this season, so I am primed to help you be just as mediocre as everybody else when it comes to filling out your bracket.

Take it from me, a one-time bracket champion, when I tell you that only the truly college basketball-addicted can thrive during this once-a-year test of skill.

The rest of us? It's a crap shoot.

Here are five tips to follow if you want to be disappointed.

1. There Is No "I" In Team – I always stay away from the teams that are built around one player. Why? Kevin Durant. I picked his Texas Longhorns as a shoe-in to reach the Final Four in 2007, only to be highly disappointed when they lost in the second round. It seems easier to stop one player than it does five.

Please see: Ohio State

2. Been There, Done That - I have a non-scientific theory that says the experienced teams will proceed deeper into the tournament than the inexperienced teams. (Except for the Fab Five. They are the exception. The only one.) I liken it to the first day on the job. You might do okay, but you don't know that you have to elbow the copy machine in just the right place to make copies; you don't know that the secretary will feign ignorance on your behalf if you take a two-hour lunch if you compliment her new haircut. The veterans do, which gives them an advantage.

Please see: Kansas, Tennessee, Villanova

3. Cinderella, Dressed In Yella' - Cinderella's beauty lies in the fact that nobody sees it right away. It just kind of grows on you. And, before you know it, she's gone, and you're left wondering how you missed her. Similarly, if you can find me one person who predicted George Mason's run in 2006, please introduce me to them, because they squeezed in all they could before the clock struck 12. Nowadays, analysts are too quick to christen the next one, because they want to be the guy who predicted it. If you're called a potential Cinderella in January, you're probably not.

Please see: Northern Iowa, Siena, Cornell  

4. You May Have A Point - Bar non, point guards are the most important player to a team's NCAA tournament success. (I heard that on T.V. last night.) When was the last time a team with a sub par point guard reached the Final Four? How about never? If you're only going to take one piece of advice when you fill out your bracket, it should be this: pick teams with good point guards. 

Please see: Michigan State, Kansas, Villanova, Kentucky

5. Tradi - shunnnnnn..Tradition! - Chances are slim that we'll see another George Mason make a run all the way to the Final Four. That was a fluke. When the smoke clears, the traditional powerhouses — the Kansases, the Michigan States, the Kentuckys — will likely be the ones left standing. If you're scratching your head, looking to make the right pick, be safe. Go with the big guns.

For prosperity's sake, here is my Final Four: Kansas, Pittsburgh, Villanova, West Virginia

(For the record, I have no idea how Pittsburgh got there. It just kind of happened.)

sports — 2 Comments
01
Sep 09

University of Michigan scandal brings out public’s mistrust of media.

I cannot stay quiet on this issue.

In light of the recent investigation by the Detroit Free Press into the University of Michigan football program's alleged NCAA rules violations concerning off-season workouts and in-season demands, a lot of people are completely skirting the real issue by chalking this up to lax editorial standards.

Some have promised to never read the Detroit Free Press again; others have decided this is a case of a newspaper throwing something against the wall to see if it sticks.

Essentially, those looking at the world through maize-colored glasses are appalled that a reporter would investigate a potential story, and are quick to dismiss this as another example of shoddy newspaper work.

Breaking news: That is what reporters and newspapers do.  They report.

This is real news.  Six sources that seem to corroborate each other is legit.  There is no escaping that fact. 

Yet, this underscores the main concern: somewhere along the way, we got this thought in our heads that newspapers only exist to out-sensationalize each other in order to sell the most copies; that newspapers are no longer trustworthy and should be taken out to the woodshed.

In the rush to keep up with blogs and wikis, spelling errors and erroneous quotes have muddled our thinking into the impression that we'd be better off without newspapers.

Really?

Without newspapers, Kwame Kilpatrick is still in office.

Without newspapers, Richard Nixon successfully covers up the Watergate scandal.

Without newspapers, Kenneth Lay gets away with millions.

I'm not saying we need to save the newspaper as we know it. It can still evolve and serve a purpose.  And in the grand scheme of things, a football scandal is unimportant.

But the day we stop entrusting these watchdogs to keep watch over our cities and root out corruption is the day we, as a society, give up.

sports — No Comments
10
Jun 09

An Imaginary Conversation With My Daughter

"Dad, what is that?"

I look out the passenger side window as my daughter and I cruise down I-75 on our way to a baseball game at decade-old Comerica Park. She's pointing at a crumbling, dilapitaded building that looms just above the freeway wall, a reminder of the neglect that is so prevalent in our city.

"That's Tiger Stadium, or what's left of it," I reply, switching my eyes back to the road.  "That's where your Dad and Papa used to watch the Detroit Tigers."

"They used to play baseball in there?"  There is, understandably, a noticeable tinge of bewilderment in my daughter's voice as she watches the stadium drift into the distance.  

"Yep.  It was one of my favorite places to go.  Whenever we got tickets to a game, I was so excited that I couldn't sleep the night before."

"That's silly."

"Maybe.  But I was about your age when I started going, so the team and the stadium took on mythic proportions."

"What are 'mythic proportions'?"

"Uh, nevermind.  Think about it this way: You know how you get really excited whenever you and I go to a baseball game?  That's how I used to act.  My favorite part was walking up the ramp and seeing the field for the first time; how the bright blue and orange seats juxtaposed with the deep green of the grass. It never got old."

"Dad – stop using big words."

"Sorry, honey.  I can't help it. Where was I?" 

"Juxtaposition."

"Oh yeah.  There are so many memories I carry with me about 'The Corner'.  The bleacher creatures.  The close proximity to the field.  The hot dogs.  Oh, the hot dogs."

"Were they better than Comerica Park's hot dogs?"

"Ten times better.  The vendors used to carry a steaming tin and lather your dog with mustard if that was your preference.  The hot dogs at Comerica Park are crap."

"Dad! You're not allowed to say that word, remember?"

"I know, but that's the best way to describe the difference."

"So if this place was so great, why are they tearing it down?"

"It all comes down to money, and someday you'll realize this.  But, really, we just outgrew it.  The seats were too tight, the facade was peeling, and there were many seats situated directly behind a pole.  That's not the best way to watch a baseball game, but that was its charm, I suppose."

"What is your favorite memory of Tiger Stadium?"

"That's easy - going to the last game with my Dad."

"What was it like?" 

"It was one of the best days of my life, right up there with the day you were born and the day I married your Mom."

"I think Mom might not want to know that you rank a baseball game up there with your wedding day."

"It wasn't just a baseball game.  It was a long goodbye to an old friend. Every Tiger wore an old-time Tigers' number that day.  Rob Fick, who wore Papa's favorite player's number – Norm Cash — hit a grand slam over the roof in right field.  I don't think I have ever heard a stadium get that loud.  It was like an explosion."

"That doesn't sound like fun."

"Ah, but it was. An old Tigers radio announcer named Ernie Harwell conducted the post-game ceremony while old and current Tigers lined the field.  Then they took down the flag and transported it to the site of the new stadium.  At the very end, they shut off the light towers one-by-one until only one was left shining.  Consequently, that was the most quiet I had ever heard a stadium.  Everyone in attendance stood and stared as Harwell ended his speech with, 'Farewell, old girl.  You will be missed.'  I know I wasn't the only one who got emotional that night."

"Dad, do you want a Kleenex?"

"No, I'm okay.  Really."

"Well, we're here.  Ready to go in?"

I step outside and glance back through the buildings of downtown Detroit and watch the wrecking ball take another chunk out of Tiger Stadium.  Even though we're here, I'm not sure Comerica Park will ever be here.

"Dad, I can hear your inner monologue. You're turning into one of those old guys who won't embrace change."

"I am?"

"Yes, you are.  And you need to get over it.  I understand that you feel a special kinship with Tiger Stadium, but this is going to be my Tiger Stadium.  Someday I'll bring my kids here and tell them stories about when you and I used to go to games. You wouldn't want to ruin that for me, would you?"

"No, I suppose you're right."

"I usually am. Now let's go get one of those crappy hot dogs."  

sports / writing — No Comments
15
May 09

Why We Go

When 20,000 people come together as one sweaty, screaming entity, it's a beautiful thing.

When the noise emitted from the collective jowl of this beast reaches a crescendo so loud you can't hear yourself think, well, that's just gorgeous.

And when the final horn sounds, and the entity erupts in a sound reminiscent of a planned demolition, well, I'm not sure there are words to describe it.

Slapping high-fives with strangers, chanting into the wee hours of the night …well, maybe that's all we need. 

For a handful of hours, you sit next to people who you've never met, but you leave feeling like you've been through something nobody on the outside can relate to.

It's why we spend hard earned money to watch grown men play a game; it's why we don't even try to explain to people who don't get it why we go.

It's the shared experience.  

That's what it's all about.

And it certainly helps when the home team wins. 

public relations / sports — 2 Comments
20
Apr 09

The Detroit Lions Brand-New Brand

From a PR perspective, I totally get why the Detroit Lions introduced a new "streamlined brand" this afternoon.

Last year they became the first National Football League team to install a crisis communications plan for their on-field performance. 

To alleviate the damage of a winless season, the front office decided they needed to get as far away as possible from anything associated with the 2008 team. I liken it to Matt Millen opting for plastic surgery at the height of his tenure as general manager of the team: the more unrecognizable, the better.

While changing the look and feel of a team can be viewed as reeking of desperation, it's the logical decision for a team in dire need of a face lift.

Obviously, some brands — read: the New York Yankees– are off-limits as far as changing the brand. Those teams enjoy a loyalty so fierce, and a history so ingrained in their fan base, that to change the logo would be akin to changing the design of the Star Spangled Banner.

But other teams, like said Lions, have this option at their disposal. They have been so bad, for so long, that they need to change the public's perception. 

After all, they failed to sell-out five home games last year.  In the NFL, it takes a special team to drive their fans away, but the Lions are that team.

That signaled the need for a drastic overhaul.

(And winning a few games might help, too.)

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