Barry Bonds has been sued over steroids... because he selled them to nuns in order to feed Bud Selig's cocaine addiction. An actual lawsuit, posted by The Smoking Gun, has been filed by convicted con-artist Jonathon Lee Riches (who referes to himself as "The White Suge Knight" in his handwritten lawsuit) against Barry Bonds, Bud Selig and Hank Aaron's Baseball Bat. His lawsuit was given two titles: "Fraud against mankind," and "Batman and Identity Robbin." He claims that Barry Bonds is violating his rights under the 1st, 2nd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 8th, 13th and 14th amendments of the Constitution.
He is also seeking damages upward of $63 billion from Mike Vick ("backed by gold and silver"), who he claims stole his dogs, sold them on eBay, and used the money to buy weapons from the Iranian Government. He also claimed that, "On February 10th, 2007, Michael Vick plead allegiance to Al Queda" and "used drugs in school zones."
In a third lawsuit, which contains a 57-page outline of the defendants alone, he sued (among others) President Bush, the Tsunami Victims, The Pope, Google, Osama Bin Laden, Jerry West, the 13 tribes of Israel, Kelly Clarkson, Venus Williams, Medieval Times, Larry King, Kofi Annan, Tony Danza, The Magna Carta, NASCAR, the Wu-Tang Clan, Mike Tyson, the Native American Fish Society, Waffle House, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Skittles and (this quote made me laugh) "Philadelphia Eagles (2005 roster, including Donovan McNabb)."
(It's bad enough that McNabb has had to put up with fans booing his selection over Ricky Williams in the draft, constantly being second guessed, Rush Limbaugh, TO, getting hurt multiple times, his mom fueding with the team website and the Kevin Kolb draft day selection. Now he has to deal with a certifiable lunatic feeling it necessary - in a bogus lawsuit - to indicate that McNabb was actually on the roster during the 2005 season. Has anybody had to deal with more randomly bizarre stuff in his career than Donovan McNabb? I think not.)
Anyway, here are some important details about the Barry Bonds lawsuit:
* "Mr. Selig on 2 occassions (December 10th, 2001 and February 6th, 2003) met Mr. Bonds at the I-70 Steak and Shake, Booth #11, made an under-the-table cream exchange, needles, HGH as Mr. Bonds provided him 22,000 for his services." To prove this accusation, he states "I planted a bug at Booth #10. Robert Novak and Judith Miller have copies of the transcripts."
* Then it gets weird. He claimed that Barry used Hank Aatron's corked bat during games which - I am not making this up - contains "secret chambers where Barry stores his HGH suppliments." He also claimed that Barry Bonds used Hank Aaron's cork filed bat to crack the Libert Bell.
* He claimes that Barry Bonds, on June 22nd, 2004, "bench pressed me against my will to show off to his Ballprak Buddies. I also witnessed him selling steroids to nuns."
* He claims that Barry Bonds owns a steroid house in South Bend, Indiana! Umm, Go Irish?!? Part of me is disappointed that he didn't bring Lou Holtz into this lawsuit.
* He also claims that Barry Bonds is a terrorist: "Mr. Bonds gave Saddam Hussein mustard gas, part of the oil for food scandal."
* For the Atlanta Hawks to take Yi Jianlian and Brandan Wright with the #3 and #11. Because if you are going to be terrible, you should excel at it! And that might make Stephen A. Smith's head explode.
* Actually, I might want the Hawks to draft Al Horford, just so I can see Candice Parker go postal and slap everyone in the Hawks organization for drafting somebody at the same position as Sheldon Williams. Candice would do it. She's nuts.
* Side-by-side-by-side pictures of Mike Tyson, Kevin Durant and Jamie Foxx. Also, the pictures of Greg Oden getting freaky with some Ohio State co-eds. No wonder he considered staying in school. Who wants to sex Mutombo Oden?
(By the way, has anyone else noticed that the term "co-eds" is now used exclusively in news stories where some famous dude is hooking up with a skank? It's never, "Josh McRoberts was studying Physics with some co-eds.")
* A one-on-one conversation between Yi Jianlian and Stewart Scott, with closed captioning.
* A hilarious "Fact" about each draft pick. Seriously, the best was when Randy Foye's fact last year, when ESPN displayed "Would Most Like to Meet: His Parents." Does it make me a bad person that I laughed when I saw that? Probably. Also, when I learned that Adam Morrison cried when Rage Against the Machine broke up.
* Whenever an analyst makes a comment about a player, they should be forced to qualify that comment by noting they made the same comment about a player in the past. For example, Chad Ford says "Yi Jianlian has the potential to be better than Yao Ming." He should be forced to say, "that reminds me of the time I said 'Word in Europe is that [Nickoloz Tskitishvili] will be better than [Pau] Gasol.'" Or when Jay Bilas raves about how "long" Brandan Wright is, they should immediately show clips of him saying the exact same thing about Rudy "I have hyphens between the letters in my name so it doesn't get BLEEP's" G-A-Y and Marvin Williams.
* Previews of Shaq's new reality show battling childhood obesity. Hopefully, it involves the kids fighting a giant Kobe doll, or one of the kids angrily saying "now I know how you felt when Phil Jackson was yelling at you!"
* A dance-off between Spencer Hawes, Joakim Noah and Nick Fazekas.
(By the way, this is the joke that I will most likely look at in 5 years and say, "why did I think that was funny?" If we remember who Nick Fazekas is in five years, I'll be stunned. Why bother drafting him?)
* My Wizards drafting somebody who will contribute this decade. I really like how Ernie Grunfeld has improved the team in the four years he has been on the helm (he absolutely fleeces teams in trades), but no draft pick has made even a slight contribution. That would be nice.
* Speaking of the Wizards, somebody should ask Gilber Arenas his opinion of every draft pick. I bet it would involve him predicting he'll drop 50 on Oden, just to rile up Portland fans. That will be fun.
* Whoever gets drafted by the Spurs should be forced to say, "thanks, now I will be highly overrated because I play with Tim Duncan. Which means a desperate team will overpay me!" Philadelphia 76ers GM Billy King should immediately say to the Spurs draftee, "Does 5 years at $60 million sound good?"
* Kevin Garnett in fatigues, patiently telling the Atlanta Hawks to sign off on the trade sending him to Phoenix, while holding a gun to their heads.
* Golden State drafting Aaron Brooks in the second round, and then saying "well, Oakland fans, he'll be better than the other Aaron Brooks." Aaron Brooks will have to have 4 turnovers a game to do worse than the former Raiders QB.
* And lastly, David Stern immediately suspending Sean Williams for 10 games, and justifying his action by saying, "it is inevitable. Might as well get it out of the way."
On Marcus Fizer: "Super strong and athletic. Mentally tough. Great competitor. Can score both in the post or on the perimeter. Compares to Charles Barkley."
(Well, that makes sense. Charles Barkley was an MVP, Fizer as a NBDL MVP.)
On DeMarr Johnson: "DerMarr Johnson has abilities almost never found in a 6-9 player. His offensive potential is limitless. Johnson is a proficient chef and considered attending culinary arts school before deciding on a professional basketball career."
DeMarr Johnson on his ability to school MJ: "I don't think he could stop me from getting to the hole. Not with my crossover. I'm going to try to dunk on anybody, and he's too smart to try to block a dunk. At least I hope he's smarter than that."
(It's a good thing MJ didn't play for the ABA when DeMarr Johnson was lighting up the league for the Long Beach Jam.)
On Jerome Moiso: "NBA Comparison: Kevin Garnett (Gulp!)."
(Perhaps they should have listened to one scout, who said, "Shys away from contact. Not great at taking a smaller man off the dribble. Inconsistent at times.")
On Kwame Brown: "Like Garnett, KB has freakish athleticism. Already bulkier than Garnett and could turn into more of a Webber type post player. Very graceful running the floor."
(They forgot to mention, "Big Wuss")
On Eddie Griffin: "Very calm court demenor, (similar to Tim Duncan)"
On Nickoloz Tskitishvili "Word in Europe is that he will be better than [Pau] Gasol."
On Qytnel Woods: "He's a good kid. I've met him and talked with his family, and he may not have taken the usual course to the NBA, but he's a good kid."
(Yeah, just ask his pit bulls!)
On Darko Milicic: "He is one of the biggest hopes of Yugoslavian basketball in his generation and that alone is something, considering the strength of Yugoslavian basketball."
On Sebastian Telfair: "One of those rare players who makes the others around him better. Sebastian has dominated older competition for sometime with his otherworldly talent."
(It's a good thing the is great on other planets, because he sucks on this one.)
There has been a lot of debate recently over whether Kobe is a better player than Michael Jordan. Well, I say that neither can hold a candle to "My Giant" himself, Gheorge Muresan. Allow me to prove to you why Muresan was much better than MJ:
* In Muresan's rookie season (1993-94), he averaged 5.6 PPG, 3.6 RPG, .545 FG% and started 2 games. That same season, MJ started zero games, and his stats were worse than Muresan's across the board.
* Think about this: Gheorge Muresan led the NBA in field goal percentage in 1995-96 and 1996-97. You know how many times Jordan led the league in field goal percentage? None! In fact. MJ's career shooting percentage is 100 points lower than Muresan!
* In 1995-1996, Gheorge was voted the NBA's Most Improved Player. Clearly, he worked harder in the offseason that MJ that year. MJ made his teammates better, but he never made himself better. That kind of selflessness will never get you anywhere in the NBA!
Now, I know what you are saying: Michael Jordan averaged 20.3 ppg more over his career than Muresan, but here's the problem: MJ made 581 career 3-point shots! Muresan, hopeless trapped as a center, never made a 3-point shot. Shaquille O'Neal has only made one his entire career. You can't judge a player on points per game. Didn't you watch the NBA Finals this year? Points are not as important as defense. Defense wins championships, and Muresan averaged 1.3 blocks per game, while MJ only average 0.88. Muresan made a higher percentage of shots, and blocked more shots. His efficiency is much better than MJ. Your argument is ridiculous. Points... ha ha! Why you talkin' about points?
You'll probably also say that he won 6 more championships. Here's the thing, Muresan's career was derailed by injuries, and only played 6 seasons. In MJ's first six seasons? No titles! If Muresan was blessed with Jordan's extremely fortunate health, he may have won 10 titles! This isn't about luck, this is about talent. And Muresan is a whole foot taller than MJ.
And what about commercial success? My Giant made $7,985,929, while Space Jam grossed $90,443,603. OK, well you've got me there. But did MJ have his own cologne? Muresan did! Oh wait, so does MJ. But this isn't about entertainment, this is about basketball!
So, before you go around saying Kobe was better than MJ, remember this: http://youtube.com/watch?v=Ls41a3xpmhk ... That's Muresan, dunking on Jordan's Bulls, and MJ was powerless to stop him. Take that, Kobe!
Well, last night's game was one of the worst basketball games I've ever seen. It got so boring that my friends and I decided to make a list of the Worst Songs of 2007... So Far! I had a lot of fun comparing some of the crappy songs that have come out this year to the various Cavs and Spurs players!
In the interest of disclosure, I was inspired by the great Dave Barry, who had a bestselling book, Book of Bad Songs. I had the oppurtunity to interview Dave Barry for my school newspaper, he basically pointed out that it would be impossible to make another " Book of Bad Songs," because music is so terrible now-a-days that you can't fit it all into one book. But I can try to narrow it down to 5 biannually, and make an annual Top 10 list from there.
So here are some of my nomination (an incomplete list, I'm sure) I will list my nominations, along with my reasoning for nominating each. If you think there is a song I left off, feel free to put it down. If I left it off for a reason, I will tell you why. I will take the Top 5 Vote Getters, and let them be candidates for the end of year Worst Songs of 2007. This is always fun because last year, at this time, Kevin Federline's Popozao was the prohibitive favorite to win Worst Song of 2006. He seemed unbeatable. By the end of the year, four songs leapfrogged him (Fergalicious, by Fergie; Look, by MC Hammer; Beep, by the Pussybat Dolls; and the winner,Wind It Up, by Gwen Stefani).
(Also, I am missing a lot of country and emo, because they are all starting to sound the same, and I wanted songs that were noticable bad. But I am open to suggestions!)
With a tip of the cap to Dave Barry's Book of Bad Songs, here are my nominations for the Worst Songs of 2007... So Far!
Why have 50 Cents When You Can Have a Dollar?
Amusement Park - 50 Cent: The first of not one, but two 50 Cent disasters. He attempts to compare his lovemaking to an amusement park, which such immortal lyrics as It goes up and down/ and round and round/stand up we'll be on tha' floo But these are my personal favorite: It tastes so sweet/that sticky cotton candy/if you get carried away/we be startin' a family. Of course, this comes from the man who wrote my favorite rap line ever: Mama said everything that happened to us was part of God's plan/so one night when I talked to Him, I got my gun in my hand.
Straight to the Bank - 50 Cent: The whole point of this song is, “I’m am so rich, I don’t even need to do this, so I will just deposit it in the bank.” Well, it’s obvious you don’t need the money, because if you did, you might have tried harder. (Insert obvious LeBron James joke here. Hey, he took the first half of the season off... He took that money straight to the bank.)
50 Cent is not a very good rapper, per se. He is blessed to be marketable enough to be signed by Dr. Dre, who makes some great beats. That is why "In Da Club," is so popular; the beat is excellent. Most people, given this beat, would make this song just as good. Although, somebody tried and failed. So maybe I am wrong.) But still...
Trying to make a catch phrase does not make your rap song good
Krispy - Kia Shine: Whenever, I hear this song, I can’t help but think of Krispy Kreme donuts. Not exactly related to ‘da hood! In fact, there are some things that are more gangsta than this song. (And Krispy might be a good nickname for Tony Parker.)
(Yes, the Mickey Mouse Rap actually happened... In fact, here are the titles to all the songs on the album. How can you resist "Ducks in da Hood," or "DJ Goof." We look back and wonder, "How did this happen?" Kind of like Robert Horry winning 7 NBA titles.)
And don’t forget this amazing rhyme: Check the dictionary, I’m the fly definition/My song so good, I’m in high definition. Apparently, the definition of redundant in his dictionary is, "(adj) - See Redundant."
This is Why I'm Hot - Mims: An obvious choice... You know the lyrics! Sing along! This is why I'm Hot/ This is why I'm Hot/ This is why, This is why, This is why I'm Hot/ I'm hot cuz I'm fly, you ain't cuz you not!/ This is why, This is why, This is why I'm Hot... This song is the Bruce Bowen of this list; it's annoying, will consistently pester you and won't go away.
OK, we get it! You get a lot of women... Now STOP MAKING MUSIC!!!
Make It Rain - Fat Joe, with T-Pain and R-Kelly: OK, what really bothers me about this song is that it became popular right after Tennessee Titans Cornerback Adam "Pac Man" Jones made headlines when he dropped $81,000 in a strip club, sparking a shooting spree that left one man paralyzed. Suddendly, "make it rain" becomes a national catch phrase and then this song becomes a hit. Yuk...
However, this song is bad enough on it's own. R. Kelly is in it. Here is a lyric that would make any person want their daughter to star in one of his videos: "Don't ask me what my name is/ stupid b- I'm famous/ You gonna' make me aim this/ Leave yo' #### brainless." What a guy!
By the way, listen at 00:50. Do those lyrics not sound like "From the club to the #### outside my gates"? I know they aren't but it sure sounds like it.
I'm a Flirt - R. Kelly: Speaking of R. Kelly, here is another crappy song he made, and I think he admits to incest... You decide: "Yeah, Yeah Homie U Say She Ya Girlfriend/ But When I Step Up To Her I'm Be Like Cousin/ Believe Me Man, This Is How Them Playas Do It In The Chi..."
(Quick question on the music video: How does he see out of those glasses that debut at 00:06? What is he, a mosquito?)
Rock Yo Hips - Crime Mob: My personal choice for the #1 spot so far. An amazing combination of terrible lyrics (I tawt i taw a putty cat/ Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie that fat cat ), horrible beat, and patent sexism! Naturally, this song sells millions of copies and continues to exist. It blows my mind, like Drew Gooden's "Duck Tail" (Hey, that's what he calls it...)
OK, we get it! You think you are hot... Now STOP MAKING MUSIC!!!
Beautiful Liar - Beyonce and Shakira: I want to change the lyric in the chorous from "If we laugh about it/ It's not worth our time" to "I've just made you horny/ now buy my CD!" Because that is the whole point of this song, isn't it?
Lip Gloss - Lil' Mama: My friend Evan said it best when he heard this song, "Do they even try anymore?" Apparently, not.
Glamorous - Fergie: Another year, another crappy song from Fergie. I think it's hilarious that the point of this song (I'm guessing this, by the way, the lyrics are almost incomprehensible) is that she was once poor, but now she is rich, and she remembers this. Then Ludacris says, "If you ain't got no money, take your broke ####home." It's like they are trying to get people to buy their CD with the "I'm from the block" gimmick, and then flipping us the middle finger at the same time. Don't people remember that this is why everyone turned on Jennifer Lopez? Because she tried this exact same thing...
Also, check out these lyrics: Fergie: My daddy told me so Ludacris: If you ain't got no money, take your broke #### home Fergie: He let his daughter know Ludacris: If you ain't got no money, take your broke #### home
That makes Dad sound so supportive! When you think about it, Fergie really is the Tim Duncan of bad songs; you get the same effort from them every time.
Like This - Kelly Rowland: After I heard this song, I was so demotivated that I didn't want to live anymore. Like watching Manu Ginobili flop again.
Tamborine - Eve: I dare anyone to answer this question: Write a paragraph explaining these lyrics in Eve's Tamborine: "she look good always with out a doubt/as for she grab the cake and out." (This song is definitely like Daniel Gibson's Game 3 performance. I normally like Eve, but this song sucks. And Boobie is usually draining 3's, but last night, he sucked. It happens to the best of them.)
Why is this on the radio?
Last Night - Keyshia Cole and Puff Daddy: Puff Daddy sings... No joke necessary! I guess I'll compare it to Anderson Varejao's haircut, but c'mon... Puff Daddy is singing!
Cupid's Chokehold - Gym Class Heroes: There must be 100s of bands more talented that Gym Class Heroes... in Dundalk. Seriously, how did these guys get a record contract? Do they have nude pictures of a Tommy Matolla with a goat? Did they explain what Eve was doing with a tamboine and a cake? Did they make it rain? TELL ME!!!!
My overall point is this: last night's game was so bad that listening to crappy music was an enjoyable alternative.
While I watched the elated Cleveland fans cheer during the Cavaliers’ trophy presentation ceremony, I couldn’t help but think about how their city and mine, Baltimore, are intertwined. My awareness of this began in 1996, when former owner Art Modell initially considered moving the Browns to Baltimore. I wrestled with two opposing notions: first, that Baltimore’s passionate fan base suffered for many years and proved worthy of hosting a franchise and second, that Cleveland’s passionate fan base endured significant heartbreak over the years, and the ethical ramifications of taking their team seemingly overruled any justification we had for accepting the Browns as our own. I came to realize that my opinion on the matter bore little consequence; people whose fiduciary and financial duties to the cities and franchises involved were going to make their decisions regardless of my internal debate on the matter. What proved important was that the NFL decided to give Cleveland their own team when they moved; while this was not the optimum outcome from the perspective of many, Cleveland did receive better treatment than Baltimore received when the Colts moved to Indianapolis. Shouldn’t that be the goal of anyone who suffers; that they wish those who endure similar situations are treated better than they were? The result was that I developed an emotional bond with Cleveland fans. They endured what we endured, and suffered what we suffered. Consequentially, I wanted them to have the same joys that I wanted for myself as a sports fan.
The concept of a city’s suffering as the result of their sports teams’ prowess is both considerably frivolous and perfectly relevant. Consider the cases of both Baltimore and Cleveland; preconceived notions of those cities are similar. Outsiders will tell you these cities are yoked with poverty, crime and pollution. Recent waterfront renaissances, construction, development and infusion of businesses are intended to counter those external assessments of those cities. However, Baltimore’s historic treatment of the Chesapeake Bay draws immediate comparison to the 1960’s condition of the Cuyahoga River. And when you consider that crime is so rampant in Baltimore that a local news station has a graphic called “A Murder a Day,” the notion that suffering can result from following a sports team seems rather trivial and problematic.
However, it is hardly coincidence that most modern city revivals involve the improvement of a local sports team. Baltimore’s Inner Harbor revitalization ran concurrent with the construction of Oriole Park at Camden Yards, a stretch where the Orioles reached two consecutive American League Championship Series, Cal Ripken’s Iron Man Record, and the Ravens Super Bowl Championship. Cleveland’s resurgence began with the construction of Jacob’s field and a stretch of five consecutive AL Central titles and two World Series appearances. During that span, the Indians sold out 455 consecutive games, which led to increased business near the stadium. Similarly, the attendance boom at Camden Yards led Baltimore’s economic rebirth. Thus, it stands to reason that a cities suffering as the result of a losing sports culture does not come from merely wins and losses. It arises from life’s hardships and the hope that our world can be a better place. This is why anger towards the deadbeat owner of a sports team is justifiable; if he/she neglects to invest towards building a winner in order to maximize their personal profit, all the while knowing that improving the team may produce meaningful improvement in the economic wellbeing and psychological morale of the entire city, they are contributing to the city’s collective suffering.
This brings me back to the end of Game 6. The trophy presentation served simultaneously as a celebration of the Cavaliers achievement and a group therapy session. The elated tears of many fans personified the relief from decades of losing, being referred to as a city as “the mistake by the lake,” Earnest Byner’s fumble, financial strife, MJ’s game winning shot and the Browns’ relocation. None of that mattered. The city stood revitalized and elated, and led by their native son, LeBron James.
I was happy for them. It reminded me of the Baltimore Ravens Super Bowl XXV victory when we had the Festivus Maximus. Baltimore just seemed like a happier place for awhile, people were flying Ravens flags on their cars and we were taken to a higher place. And that’s what I want for Cleveland. Not to mention cities like Kansas City, Seattle, Philadelphia and Buffalo. If my team can not win their championship, then I want another city to have their festivus maximus.
It is both interesting and poetic that the Cleveland Cavaliers and playing the San Antonio Spurs in the NBA Finals. San Antonio is a perfect example of the changes that an improved sports team can produce; drafting and signing David Robinson improved ticket sales and morale, and outside companies like Toyota and A####mp;T were attracted to the city as the result of the garnered national attention. This NBA Finals will feature teams who not only represent their cities, but uplifted them as well. The humanity of the people involved makes this series worth watching; both cities enjoy a mutually beneficial relationship with their basketball team. LeBron James and Tim Duncan may battle for the Larry O’Brien Trophy on the court, but they will both take their fans to new heights. From Baltimore to Cleveland and San Antonio, these NBA finals matter because they symbolize the universal desire to improve the lives of our community and ourselves.
To the fans of the Cleveland Cavaliers and San Antonio Spurs: Enjoy your festivus maximus. You deserve it.
I attended the Baltimore Orioles-Chicago White Sox game on July 31st, 2005, and it was a memorable game for many reasons. First, my friends and I got to heckle Carl Everett by yelling “Dinosaurs are real… Dinosaurs are real,” which I wanted to do for many years. Second, I won the tickets because my CVS store – I was the manager - produced the largest increase in sales from July to August, and it was the first day I had off in almost three months. Third, it was the last game Rafael Palmeiro played in before he was suspended by Major League Baseball for testing positive for steroids. Fittingly, he hit his last home run in his last game before he was exposed as a cheater.
I found it rather intriguing that, in spite of Palmeiro proven steroid use, the public’s disapproval of him never reached the heights of the national disdain for Barry Bonds’ alleged steroid use. I was confused by this development; both men were prolific home run hitters who were alleged steroids users. Even though Barry Bonds was disliked by the media and the public at large, Palmeiro got caught. He looked us all in the eyes and exclaimed, “I have never used steroid, period.” Since baseball is the professional sport I follow the least, I investigated further into the reasons behind the fervent disapproval of Barry’s accomplishments.
At first, Bonds’ massive public disapproval seemed to be the root cause. He did himself no favors over the years; he fought teammates, berated reporters and intimidated trainers. His abrasive nature carried over into his personal life; his misdeeds concerning fidelity and professionalism are well documented. The most compelling aspect of Bonds’ personality is the calculation and premeditation of his rudeness towards teammates, reporters and fans. He seemingly passes up no opportunity to belittle people who do not have the strength or influence that he exerts. His actions contrast seemingly consequentialist ethics; he regularly takes actions that create the greatest amount of pain and the least amount of happiness for those in his life, and the only beneficiary of Barry Bonds’ actions is Barry Bonds. In short, he has nobody to blame for his public disapproval than himself.
This explanation did not seem sufficient, because Sammy Sosa was disliked by fans, teammates and reporters as well, and his performance at the Congressional hearing did him no favors, but his accomplishments were not skewered as heavily as Bonds. And since neither Sosa nor Bonds are Anglo-Saxon in descent and Sosa’s ill repute ranks about equal with Mark McGwire’s humiliation and significantly lower than Bonds, I discredited race as a potential reason for this divide. (Although some studies seem to counter this conclusion)
It suddenly hit me while talking about the importance of baseball’s records when one of my friends referred to the all-time home run record as “the most hallowed in all sports.” Intriguingly, public discourse and indignation over steroids increased dramatically as Barry Bonds approached Babe Ruth’s mark of 714 home runs. Despite the rumors, nobody exhibited righteous indignation when Sammy Sosa surpassed Harmon Killebrew, investigated bank records and associates when Mike McGwire overtook Mike Schmidt or demanded intervention from the almighty when Raphael Palmeiro topped Jimmy Foxx. As Barry inched closer to Babe Ruth’s mark, however, steroids suddenly evolved from baseball’s dirty little secret to a full-fledged quandary. Congress became involved, reporting dramatically increased and persecution of steroid peddlers intensified. And this phenomenon seems limited to baseball; when Shawne Merriman tested positive for steroids, he was still voted as the NFL’s Defensive Player of the Year and public condemnation appeared muted at best.
I came to the conclusion that the Home Run Record, and any other record Babe Ruth holds or once held, is viewed as sacrosanct and hallowed, and that the public’s indignation towards steroids can be directly correlated with their use in the pursuit of that record. When Babe Ruth’s name is involved in a prominent record, we seemingly discredit any man who approaches them. Surpassing Babe Ruth requires more than statistical prowess; achieving Ruthian immortality requires public approval of the methodology of the pursuit and adoration of the pursuant’s personality. When Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris both chased Babe Ruth’s single season home run record in 1961, Mantle’s hunt for 61 was savored and applauded, while Maris’ accomplishments were deplored and despised. Many sportswriters and fans noted that Maris hit ahead of Mantle in the Yankees lineup and required 8 extra games to hit his 61st homer, giving him an advantage that Mantle – and Ruth – did not enjoy. His public personality was sullen and introverted; resultantly, the media despised him and the fans loathed him. Americana’s discarding of Maris’ accomplishment went beyond the asterisk in Major League Baseball’s record book; the public mandated that Ruth’s accomplishments remain the standard for home run prowess, and construed Maris’ achievement suspect and personality flawed.
When Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruth’s record, public resistance to his pursuit was less encompassing, but more virulent. Racial threats towards Aaron’s person and public skewering of his accomplishment allowed the vocal minority to frame the debate about his achievement. Hank Aaron recounts this phenomenon in his book, I Had a Hammer:
“The same points were brought up over and over and over--that I had batted so many more times than Ruth, that I played with a livelier ball, that Ruth had been a pitcher for part of his career, that pitchers were better in Ruth's time, that travel was tougher in Ruth's time, that Ruth had a higher batting average than me. I heard them all, and I respected them all; and I thought that none of them made a damn bit of difference because Babe Ruth was Babe Ruth and I was just a man trying to do my job.”
The perfect example of the resistance baseball purists impose upon any person attempting to break any of Babe Ruth’s records is a book called The Year Babe Ruth Hit 104 Home Runs: Recrowning Baseball’s Greatest Slugger. Author Bill Jenkins painstakingly details each of Ruth’s 714 home runs, as well as several hits that were ruled foul but would have been ruled fair after rules changed in 1931, and determined that Ruth would have hit 104 home runs in 1921. He also counteracts every assertion that Hank Aaron’s supporters make, that Babe Ruth never played against African-American athletes and the reasons for his physical superiority are unknown. Incidentally, if you add the additional home runs from that season alone to his total, Ruth’s career haul becomes 759, four more than Hank Aaron. The intent is clear from the title of the book: first, everyone who has surpassed Babe Ruth in the record books received clear and distinct advantages, through diluted competition and offensive-minded rules changes, and Ruth would have vastly surpassed their career marks had he competed in the same environment; second, that other sluggers accomplishments unjustly dethrone the greatest slugger of all time; third, that Babe Ruth was baseball’s ultimate showman and hero. In short, modern baseball players may surpass Babe Ruth in numbers, but the Bambino remains the ultimate standard bearer for hitting proficiency.
The pursuit of the single season home run record by Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa in 1998 serves as the most interesting case of this phenomenon. McGwire and Sosa both appeared to achieve their mark properly; they both surpassed Ruth’s mark of 60 homers in fewer games and obliterated Maris’ total. They also appeared humble and likeable, giving them the requisite personality needed for public approval. The Clinton-Lewinsky scandal gave American another reason to accept them. We needed something positive to happen, and they delivered. Even politicians got in on the fun, especially when Ted Kennedy accidentally referred to them as “Mike McGwire and Sammy Sooser.” This only contributed to their downfall. McGwire essentially admitted steroid use with his infamous “I’m not here to talk about the past” comment, discrediting the methodology of his pursuit. Sosa’s performance that day revealed that his inherent phoniness; his “inability to understand English” proved his personality inadequate to be mentioned along with The Babe, regardless of accusations of steroid use.
The irony is that contemporary America would have despised Babe Ruth. If a modern athlete feuded with managers and teammates the way Babe Ruth did, he would be treated similarly to Terrell Owens. Alex Rodriguez himself on Page Six when he cheated; imagine if he lived in a sham marriage, as Babe Ruth’s nuptials to Claire Hodgson were alleged. Jay Mariotti would be screaming bloody murder if it was reported that Derek Jeter went through 10-15 women in one night at a bordello, as Babe Ruth was rumored to do. What if a player showed up drunk to spring training and knocked himself out by running into a palm tree in the outfield like Ruth did? Babe Ruth once charged into the stands to fight a heckler, and he was lionized. His charging after the heckler would have been replayed on Fox, CNN and ESPN hundreds of times, discussed by Tony Kornheiser and Charles Barkley, panned by Bill O’Reilley and blogged about by millions of sports fans. In fact, Babe Ruth’s antics led to his infamous trade from the Boston Red Sox. Harry Frazee’s reasoning is documented in The Complete History of the Home Run, by Mark Ribowsky:
“The sale of Babe Ruth will ultimately strengthen the team. It would be impossible to start next season with Ruth and have a smooth-working machine. Ruth had become simple impossible, and the Boston club could no longer put up with his eccentricities. I think the Yankees are taking a gamble. While Ruth is undoubtedly the greatest hitter the game has ever seen, he is likewise one of the most selfish and inconsiderate men ever to put on a baseball uniform."
Forget for one moment that his statement failed to placate Boston fans, his true intention was to gather money to fund No, No, Nanette, or that time proved his assertion that the Yankees were the risk takers completely daft. Does this statement sound much different than the reasons given for trading Ron Artest or Randy Moss? In fact, most of Babe Ruth’s accomplishments would be ridiculed today. For example, in 1927, Babe Ruth hit more home runs than any other team in the American League. Imagine if a modern player accomplished that feat. Envision Albert Pujols hitting more home runs than the entire Colorado Rockies roster. Then picture Skip Bayless’ face turning Oklahoma Sooner red as he screamed about the type of steroids Pujols is on. We would serve as judge, jury and executioner without a shred of proof if this happened now-a-days.
Despite all of this, Babe Ruth evolved from a supremely talented baseball player with a flawed personality to an idea, an icon of the superior baseball player of yesteryear and the fore bearer of the sacrosanct Home Run Record. I do not believe that Barry Bonds is without guilt; visual evidence clearly suggests steroid use, even if drug test results have not. Nor do I justify Bonds’ actions by suggesting that the icon of Babe Ruth is insurmountable. I simply propose that our outrage concerning steroids is more intertwined with The Idea of The Babe than any moral or ethical objection to steroid use and its consequences. Perhaps we need to let go of this idea, because the idea of sports and competition is to be the best you can be, and have the opportunity to become the best that has ever played the game. If it is impossible to surpass Ruth without being ridiculed and scorned, then why encourage kids to play?
* Etymology is the study of the origin of words. For example, both pity and pain are derived from the Greek work splankhnon, which means “deep movement of the bowels.” Therefore, when Mr. T. exclaimed, “I pity the fool,” in Rocky III, he was really saying, “when I see fools, I #### my pants.” And when he said, “I predict pain,” he meant, “I predict ####ing.” And he’d fit right in Pakistan.
* Amazingly, Wilt Chamberlain never missed a game for groin fatigue.
* Whenever we start writing comments such as "Notre Dame fans are crazy," or "USC fans are nuts," or "the WNBA's fan is psychotic," remeber one thing: we are not Arkansas fans.
(This site is funny, only because it issues the first ever PDF Warning. Oh no! What ever will I do? I will be forced do read documents I can not edit! Oh, the humanity!)
* If you were wondering, “What could possibly be better than the first two games of the Piston-Cavs series,” I have found one answer.
* The Reggie Bush Investigation: Stuff is getting done, and people are “convinced”. Fortunately, we will only have to wait two more days for justice.
* Congratulations to Billy Donovan, who is now the head coach of the Orlando Magic. Although some may say that he is getting a tremendous pay raise to move from one whining player to another, you can’t pass up the opportunity to coach the player once referred to as “Europe's version of LeBron James.” Maybe Billy could use some lessons in planning ahead.
* Since I am the world’s foremost proponent of moose racing, I believe that Chad Johnson’s race with a horse should be followed by Terrell Owens racing a moose. In an illogical world, it’s the logical conclusion to TO’s career.
(BTW: I have no idea how this ended up under NFL. It's all good though, yay NFL post that starts with A-Rod jokes!)
Here are some Random Thoughts from around the sports universe and other-wise:
* Can we all agree that, in four years when the San Diego Chargers hold their press conference to announce Norv Turner’s and A.J. Smith’s firings, that we all knew this was a bad idea in the first place? I mean, I know San Diego is loaded, but they are being coach by Norv Turner. Couldn’t they have asked any Washington Redskins or Oakland Raiders fan what they think of him? There is no way Norv Turner gets San Diego gets to the Promised Land. Man, that decision was dumb.
* When my friends argue about religion, I submit this fact: The University of Tennessee has a back-up QB named Jim Bob Cooter. This is the only fact that simultaneously proves and disproves the existence of God. Take that, Kirk Cameron.
Speaking of which, I hope that Jim Bob Cooter gets drafted by the Miami Dolphins, just so that Dolphins fans can watch Jim Bob Cooter vs. Cleo Lemon battle for the starting QB position. That should make Nick Saban jealous. He’ll think, “Instead of coaching where I have increased job security, I could be coaching an aging defense, a running back who can’t stop smoking pot, Cleo Lemon, a QB whose knee may never heal, a 37-year old QB who just lost his job to Damon Huard, John Beck and Jim Bob Cooter. Boy, that decision was stupid! Speaking of which, I better call the company that helped me get the Alabama job.”
* Then again, it could be worse. You could be an Atlanta Falcons fan; they are one Michael Vick suspension from Joey Harrington: Starting QB.
* Sometimes, the apology reveals much more than the action that caused it.
(Key Quote: The Washington Redskins, as an organization, obviously would never condone anything related to animal cruelty," the team's statement said. Nope, they condone anything related to human cruelty, such as racist mascots! But we better not offend dog lovers. They are crazy. And dedicated. And educated.)
* If I could have any super-human power, I would have super-human laziness. I don’t know how that will help me to solve crime, but I will have a much better chance of someday marrying Britney Spears. Speaking of which, people are letting Britney Spears write again, which means more laughs for all of us!
* Here are a couple thoughts on the NBA Lottery: Everybody who didn’t win the Lottery is complaining they didn’t get Oden and Durant, but let’s look at this from Kevin Durant’s perspective: He is moving from Texas to Seattle… I can’t wait for the Atlanta Hawks to pass on Michael Conley for Yi Jianlian. I mean, when you have Tyronne Lue, there is no need to draft a point guard. Bigger mistakes have been made...
* Have no fear, ladies who miss Brady Quinn’s sexy eyes. Meet the next Irish QB stud-muffin who will bring sexy back! Besides, you have Charlie Weis!
* The way Hillary Clinton is gathering endorsements, I don't know why we even bother having an election. She's unbeatable...
(Note: Nothing sums up the Clinton years better than this quote: The Clinton administration was the best years for the adult industry. Yep, they was the best years for education, too!)
* Every day, I wake up and read the news, hoping to find an article that inspires me to great things. Well, that didn’t happen.
* This woman handed me a pamphlet today that showed me how to perform a self-breast exam. I told that wasn't necessary, and she said "you can give this to your girlfriend." What am I supposed to say? "Hey beautiful, have you been thinking your breasts lately? Well I have! Umm, I’m going to go somewhere… where I can… hide in shame..."
* Last year, I was in Tempe, and I watched the Redskins play the Philadelphia Eagles at "The Library," which I would describe as a Hooters, but the girls are dressed in naughty Catholic school outfits, and they have a bookshelf behind the bar. It's as if management was taunting the waitresses with knowledge. Needless to say, I hope any future daughter of mine never obtains employment at "The Library," or other seedy establishments.
* My dream of moose racing is one step closer to become reality. This is why nobody watches horse racing anymore; nobody cares about horses. But if you made The Preakness into a moose race (with #### jockeys!), then people will watch.
* And finally, RIP Marquise Hill, an all-around good guy. Pacman Jones could learn a thing or two from him.
The game of basketball is in my blood. My grandfather, Arthur Kempf, managed to make ends meet during The Great Depression by playing for a traveling semi-professional basketball team on the B&O Railroad. In fact, he loved to joke about how much he enjoyed The Great Depression, because he got to travel everywhere between Baltimore and Ohio and play basketball while traveling with clowns. (Keep in mind, this man struck oil on his ranch... in Ohio. He might be the luckiest man ever to walk the Earth.) Unfortunately, his genetics did not pass down to me, but I still enjoy the game. I watch games at every level whenever possible; I am a die-hard Wizards fan, follow my old high school team (ranked #5 nationally by USA Today last season) and recently got uber-involved when UMBC's Women's Basketball team made their first NCAA tournament.
As I watched the women's tournament, I couldn't help but wonder why I do not follow the WNBA more than I do. I follow the college game pretty regularly, and have formed opinions on my favorite players; my favorite all-time women's players are Diana Taurasi and Alana Beard with Candice Parker coming in last (my take: I'm not celebrating her dunks. She did them while running up the score on a 15th seeded Service Academy team. Too much unnecessary sneering. Too much "Starbury" in her game for my liking. Call me when she dunks on Sylvia Fowles), and Chamique Holdsclaw wins my Kwame Brown "Biggest Bust" Award.
Before I follow a league, I research the game rules, teams, dynamics and social structure. While it came as no surprise that the WNBA was not popular, what stunned me was how slow the game was, how unpopular the game really is, and how unprofitable the WNBA has become. While researching, I read a curious quote from Vicki Ackermann, the former President of the WNBA, and everything began to make sense. In May 2004, she said the WNBA was "in position to perhaps finally reach profitability by 2007." Five months later, she stepped down, saying that she wanted to spend more time with her family. Even more curious; she was elected President of USA Basketball in March 2005, which was five months after leaving the WNBA.
This means one of two things: 1) Vicki's husband and kids are so annoying that within 5 months, she had to immerse herself in a full-time job to get away from them. Or... 2) She felt the WNBA would never turn a profit, and she got off the bandwagon before it was too late.
It's not too hard to imagine the second scenario taking place. President's and CEO's use convoluted excuses to get out of a bad business venture when they witness the "writing on the wall." Consider these facts:
1) Average attendance dropped from 8,826 to 8,613 in 2004, marking the fifth time in sixth seasons that the WNBA's attendance dropped. The one season that it did not drop? 2001, where the per-game average was 9,075, up from 2000's average of 9,072. That's right: 3 whole people! Considering that the highest average attendance
