Some brief, sarcastic comments on the last few days worth of Sports “news”:

Buggin’ Out—So Roger Clemens is going through his first (what would you call it, rehab start?) outing since rejoining the Astros, pitching for Class A Lexington Legends last night when his son approaches the mound during the third inning.

“Dad, I just wanted to tell you if you strike out one more guy, the entire crowd gets free wiper fluid.”

Upon hearing this news from Koby, the Rocket proceeds to get two more strikeouts, finding the motivation to retire the side. Now every time it rains or a bug splatters the windshield for the next month, people in Lexington will think of Roger Clemens.

I just glad Clemens wasn’t down there for “Mullet Appreciate Night” back in May—he would have had to go 1986 on everyone.

Just Sickening—No one should be overly concerned that Dwyane Wade has missed a couple practices because of lingering effects from the flu that hampered him in Game 6 of the Eastern Conference Finals. We’re talking about practice, man. We’re talking about practice.

What would really make Wade sick--and everyone else except Dirk Notwitzki--is if David Hasselhoff sang the National Anthem before one of the games in Dallas.

Hearing crickets—The College Women’s World Series match-up between Arizona and Northwestern drew more viewers than Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Finals, which pulled in a cool 611,000 households. Yep, Hockey's definitely making a comeback.

Take it easy, Champ, why don’t you sit the next couple plays out—Seems like there are quite a few major leaguers upset at Lastings Milledge for giving some hive fives to the fans after hitting his first major league home-run. This wasn’t during play, it was between innings on his way to the field.

Lighten up about baseball’s unwritten rules. Perhaps the crackdown on amphetamines has really made some players/managers cranky. Maybe most of these guys need to make peace with themselves for not doing the same thing on their first home-run.

Back soon with the third NGS II Assignment.

Steve Nash must be taking lessons from David Copperfield. Because Nash winning the MVP this year is like Copperfield dating Claudia Schiffer.

It’s slight of hand and trickery—I just don’t see how Nash became a two-time MVP. I can’t help but feel like we’ve been duped as NBA fans.

Because Steve Nash as a two-time MVP is a farce.

This isn’t about Kobe, LeBron and Dirk anymore and if they should have won. It isn’t about personal attacks or who’s a better person. It isn’t about the merit of their seasons, what makes a team better, how much individual stats hold against team success, etc.

This is about the absurd notion forming that Steve Nash is one of, if not the best, point guards ever.

And if you don’t think that’s what’s happening, you need to realize that by Nash winning his second MVP Award, he just joined Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Bill Russell, Wilt Chamberlain, Moses Malone, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Tim Duncan as the only players to have won more than one MVP.

Nash has somehow done this without leading his team in scoring or being a game-altering threat to take over in the 4th quarter. He’s not even a lock to take the last shot in a tight game. Plus, he looks like Kelly Leak from the original Bad News Bears.

The strange thing is I like Steve Nash. I think he’s done wonders to change the pace and face of the NBA the past few seasons, reverting teams back to the 1980’s and early 90’s style of fast-tempo basketball. It’s what the NBA needed.

But Nash is no better than a handful of other NBA point guards who have been good, impressive and great—but never got to that level.

In a comparison provided by the good people at Basketball Reference.com, Nash is in a select company of solid and dependable point guards—but hardly the best ever. In fact, according to the website, Nash has only slightly better than a fifty percent chance to make the Hall of Fame. No other MVP has averaged fewer points since Wes Unseld in 1969. Yet he also became the only other point guard beside Magic Johnson to win back-to-back MVP’s.

Look at this group of point guards and their best seasons:

Steve Nash
2005: 15.5 points, 11.5 assists, 3.3 rebounds per game. He led the league in assists and shot 88.7% from the foul line.
2006: 18 points, 10.5 assists, 4.2 rebounds. He shot 92% from the free throw line and 43% from three point range, and led the league in assists.

John Stockton
1990: 17.2 points, 14.5 assists, 2.7 steals, 2.6 rebounds per game. Stockton led the NBA in assists from 1988-1996—but was never MVP, even though the Jazz routinely won and appeared in the playoffs. In ’90,

Kevin Johnson
1990: 23.9 points, 12.2 assists, 3.9 rebounds per game. Johnson shot 50% from the field that season. He routinely averaged a double-double in points and assists, basically from 1989-1996.

During that 1990 season, Johnson didn’t even get a vote for MVP; Stockton finished 9th to Magic Johnson. Nash is basically doing exactly what all point guards used to do—score and distribute. Heck, on occasion, some of them would even play defense.

The MLB A.L. MVP debate last year focused on the fact that David Ortiz was merely a hitter, while A-Rod played both parts of the game. While its obvious basketball and baseball are different sports; we also apparently have different basic criteria for MVP’s in general, because Nash doesn’t play any defense. Had Smush Parker not gone 7-37 over the last four games of the Lakers-Suns series, a national audience might have seen that Nash couldn’t guard a slow motion Ace Ventura when he’s pretending to play football at the asylum.

Here were the other candidates for MVP this season, who share similarities with MVP’s of the past:

Kobe Bryant, 2006: 35.4 points, 4.5 assists, 5.1 rebounds, 1.8 steals. Bryant won the scoring title.

Allen Iverson, 2001: 31.1 points, 4.6 assists, 3.8 rebounds, 2.5 steals per game. Iverson won the scoring title.

LeBron James, 2006: 31.4 points, 6.6 assists, 7.0 rebounds, 1.6 steals per game.

Michael Jordan, 1992: 30.1 points, 6.1 assists, 6.4 rebounds, 2.3 steals per game.

Obviously, throwing out all these stats isn’t going to change the outcome, and doesn’t prove or disprove anything.

But I can’t shake it—Nash is a current day John Stockton, Kevin Johnson, Isiah Thomas or Tim Hardaway who just joined a list of nine of the greatest players in NBA history.

The same guy who, at times during Phoenix’s Game 7 win over the Lakers Saturday, wasn’t even the most valuable guard on his own team, with Leandro Barbosa making us question why Nash had such a hard time earlier in the series. The same guy who has a two year scoring average of 16.7 points and plays some of the worst defense in the league. The same guy who is now in the same breath as Jordan, Bird and Magic.

I just don’t see it—but maybe you can.

With the way the NBA playoffs have started, what with the Clippers winning their first playoff game since 1993 and taking a 2-0 lead in it’s series over the Nuggets, we’ve started the playoffs a little differently than normal. In addition to that, the Pacers, Wizards and Lakers are all playing each of their series tight. It looks like we’ve got some crashers on our hands. And if you’re going to crash something, you’ve got to have rules—we learned that from Wedding Crashers last summer.

Using that as a guide, here’s a list of rules for prospective Playoff Crashers.

Rule #1—“Never leave a fellow crasher behind.”
Typically, the best two teams meet in the NBA Finals. It’s hard to crash the playoffs, only a few have taken it as far as John Beckwith did: in 1999 the Knicks were only the second team to beat a 1-seed as an 8-seed (the Nuggets were the first in 1994 over the Sonics). The Knicks made the Finals, but fell to the Spurs in five games.

The point of a playoff crasher is to get in and have your fun—but when other crashers start to fall, you usually bow out gracefully. Non-biased fans want to see the best teams in the Finals, kind of like the NCAA Tournament.

Rule #6—“Do not sit in the corner and sulk. It draws attention in a negative way. Draw attention to yourself—but on your own terms.”
So many teams oblige the higher seeds by bowing out early—usually by not playing very hard and then complaining about “officiating”. Here’s a note for these offenders: the officiating is terrible in the playoffs every year, in every sport—get used to it. Give us something we can use, an excuse like you were more focused on your college graduation ceremony or something.

A good Playoff Crasher will mold itself after some of the legends. The 1995 Rockets could be considered the Chazz Reingold of Playoff Crashers. That year the Rockets were defending champions (Sam Cassell, currently manning the Clippers, was the point guard on that team, too) but the sixth seed in the Western Conference. They beat the Jazz (60-22 overall) three games to two in the first round; then beat the Suns (59-23) four games to three and followed that up in the Western Finals by beating the Spurs (62-20 with league MVP David Robinson) in six games. They were 5-0 in elimination games that year. Rule #7—“Blend in by standing out” also applies here.

Rule #20—“The older the better, the younger the better.”
If you are a potential Playoff Crasher, it’s best to be a veteran laden team or have a key veteran player that knows what to do in certain key situations. As previously mentioned, Sam Cassell’s been to the playoffs with the Rockets, Nets, Timberwolves and Clippers. That’s the player I want leading a group of guys like Elton Brand, Shaun Livingston, Chris Wilcox and Chris Kaman—playoff first-timers who, without proper guidance and support, would be making vacation plans in a week.

Robert Horry is always a good luck charm and I’m convinced that some team will hire him as an assistant coach in a few years, just in case. These veterans are here to remind everyone else that it’s a long two months to the Larry O’Brien Trophy and they shouldn’t get so excited so early—like Sack Lodge was to go quail hunting; don’t be overly aggressive.

A young team—like the ’95 Orlando Magic—can also work as a Playoff Crasher under this rule. The Magic were built for speed and comfort. A young Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway, supplemented by 3-D (Dennis Scott) and Nick Anderson made a run through the Eastern Conferences Michael Jordan-less Bulls, Knicks and upstart Indiana Pacers. The Magic ran out, you could say, in the Finals. Orlando’s Nick Anderson couldn’t close out Game 1 from the foul line, and after missing four free throws, Kenny Smith of the Rockets hit a three and sent the game to overtime. Anderson and the Magic were never the same—he broke Rule #22 of Playoff Crashing: “You have regulation to seal the deal. Period. No overtime. ”

Rule #29—“Always be a team player. Everyone needs a little help now and again.”
This applies to everyone in the playoffs—even Kobe Bryant. Most superstars need a little bit of help from their friends. They need a Vince Vaughn’s Jeremy to play the role and take one for the team; be the big guy, the Babaganoosh. Michael had Scottie, but he also had a big shot from John Paxson or Steve Kerr. Clyde Drexler couldn’t do it alone against Jordan and the Bulls in ’92, but helped out Olajuwon in ’95 with the Rockets. David Robinson needed Tim Duncan. Everybody’s needed Robert Horry.

Rule #33—“Never go back your place”.
As a Playoff Crasher, this rule becomes vastly important as the playoffs go on. Don’t let it get to a seventh game against a team that should have already beaten you. They will do so in Game 7. The Pacers never learned this against the Bulls in the late 90’s. The Kings forgot it against the Lakers in the 2003 Western Finals. Once you’ve got a team down 3-1 or 3-2, you better close it out.

So, Playoff Crashers—those are the rules, break them and you’ll be outed at the reception. Good luck, and remember Rule #76—“No excuses. Play like a champion!”

I admit I love and miss the NBA of the 1980’s. Magic and the Lakers against Bird and the Celtics, along with Michael’s one-man show. Here we are, nearly twenty years removed from that time and the main gripe against the NBA is its lack of anything resembling the basketball most of its current fans grew up watching.

All is not lost. I think the NBA is slowly working its way back to that 80’s vibe, with star players like LeBron James, Kobe Bryant, Dwyane Wade and star-studded teams like the Pistons. With that in mind, here are some early playoff awards, a.k.a. ‘I Love the 80’s: NBA Playoffs 2006’.

The “I Wanna Be Sedated” Award to the possibility of Spurs-Pistons Part Deux.
Sure, the 'Stones and the Spurs are fundamentally sound and team oriented—that’s great, except it made for one of the most boring, un-exciting Finals in the past twenty-five years last season. The Finals were uglier and more frightening than the Tom Cruise-Katie Holmes era. With that in mind…

“Sweet Dreams Are Made of This” Award for Best Finals Match-up for fans and media to:
Lakers-Cavs. With a match-up like this, the league and the fans would get exactly what they’ve longed for and the media would be able to write epic pieces about Kobe vs. LeBron. It would be a classic series between two superstars not seen truly since 1991's Magic vs. Michael. Hey, a guy can “dream” can’t he?

Suns-Nets would offer scores like 130-122 in OT. It’s the anti-2005 Finals. Just think of Jason Kidd against Steve Nash, the two best point guards (Chris Paul aside) in the NBA, going at each other. What would be the over/under on combined assists between the two of them? 30? 35? How about the amount of combined dunks from Shawn Marion and Vince Carter? J

ust a terrific potential series between two teams who run up and down the court like Steve Prefontaine--and have no interior presence what-so-ever.

Lakers-Heat—Why not just combine the 80’s and the present? Miami Vice meets Showtime. Riley vs. Jackson. Is there a need to even point out the massive ratings boost the Finals would receive if it were Shaq and the Heat against Kobe and the Lakers? New Shaq sidekick against old Shaq sidekick. East coast L.A. vs. West coast L.A. I’d even hire the ringside announcers from Rocky IV to call this series. I can hear them now, as Shaq and Kobe stare each other down following Luke Walton assuming the old role of Kurt Rambis and tackling Dwyane Wade: “ It’s a gutter war!” In fact, if I’m running ‘The Ocho’ one day, I’m putting them as my number two announcing team, right behind Cotton McKnight and Pepper Brooks.

If the NBA wants to go NCAA Tournament/George Mason Cinderella on us, we could have Clippers-Wizards in the Finals. What better story than two former pathetic teams that are young and energetic; who entertain and can score. Give Gilbert Arenas a national stage in order for everyone to see him as the Top 10 player he is. Picture, if you dare, Sam Cassell doing the ‘Giant Gonads’ dance after a big fourth quarter three. Now that’s fan-tastic.

“The Future’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades” Award to LeBron James for Best New Artist.
On Saturday, I thought I saw a reincarnation of Magic Johnson and Michael Jordan in the body of one LeBron James. Never heard of him before, but apparently the kid can play basketball. He’s the first person since Bird or Magic that has an actual chance to average a triple-double at some point in his career. But these playoffs are really about his chance to make ‘The Jump’ to another level, that being success in the postseason. He handles the ball; he rebounds; he passes—oh, and he scores. The way he changes pace and his court vision are the primary reason that King James was able to drop a 32-11-11 triple double. With perspective, all it did was give the Cavs a 1-0 series lead against the Wiz, so this wasn’t Magic against the Sixers in the ’80 Finals—but it’s a great way to start. James also won the “You Can Do Magic” Award by the band America in a similar category.

The “Dancing With Myself” Award to Kobe Bryant in the Lakers-Suns Series.
As a Lakers fan, I’m dreading this series if Kobe doesn’t start being Kobe—like Kevin being forced to bunk with Wet-The-Bed-Cousin Fuller in Home Alone 2. This could go one of two ways—the Lakers are either getting blown out of the water or winning this series. Think about it: do you want to let Kobe get to a seventh game? Me neither. And why? Because he’s put up 39, 37, 51 and 43 against Phoenix this season.

But on Sunday, with the Lakers trailing throughout the game, keeping it close throughout, I was surprised to see Kobe defer to team mates Luke Walton and Lamar Odom—which hasn’t been done since those two were in college. C’mon Kobe, don’t think you’re fooling us—we all know you’re “Hungry Like The Wolf.”

The “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” Award to David Stern for the NBA’s outdated and useless playoff rules.
Stern rules the NBA with an iron fist not seen since Stalin. He’s certainly the supreme ruler of the NBA and we get that. But can someone explain to me why the playoff seeding formula is more difficult to figure out than the math equations from Good Will Hunting? The Clippers absolutely tank its last couple games, drop to the sixth seed, but host a playoff series against a divisional champ with a worse record? In the words of Dr. Evil, “Rrriiiigggghhhttt.” Ditch the division winner ranks ahead of regular season record stuff, pronto.

Plus, if the playoffs were any longer, we’d be staring at an end date of mid-July. Seriously, my daughter was in the womb for shorter than this—TNT's got 7 games in 7 weeks after the first round is over. One of the NBA’s worst moves with regard to the playoffs was making the first round a seven game series. There’s a lost sense of urgency in the 7-7-7-7 format. Theoretically, a team could play 28 playoff games—that’s not a playoff, that’s more than a third of the regular season.

The “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” Award to the Pistons for “most unlikely but likely happening” in the playoffs.
Simply put, the Pistons have gone over three full NBA seasons without losing one major starter or role player to injury. That’s over 300 games without being bitten by the injury bug (while benefiting heavily from an injury to Karl Malone in 2004 and Dywane Wade last year). Stuff like that doesn’t happen in the NBA for this long, so guess what? The basketball Gods seem to really enjoy music from the ’70’s. Their favorite song? Instant Karma, of course.

As a kid in the 1980’s, I remember my parents watching Indiana University basketball games and turning off the sound to the TV. They’d immediately turn on the radio and Don Fischer, the voice of the Hoosiers would come on. For the entire game, my mom and dad would have the TV on for the visual and the radio on for the audio.

I once asked my parents why they did it. “We can’t stand the announcers,” they replied. I used to think they were crazy. I personally didn’t see anything wrong with the IU TV announcers, or any of the other announcers calling games. Now I can see I was wrong.

Here’s the thing: we like our athletes—whether we admit it or not—outrageous. We love outrageous plays. We enjoy crazy games, instant history moments that we can remember forever. We enjoy coaches and managers who are larger than life, dress distinctively and provide us with great lines.

We continue to get the characters we need in Sports, for the most part, in everywhere but broadcasting.

Sure, I know we’ve got #### Vitale over at ESPN. I know John Madden’s still calling football games and has the most popular video game ever made. But they’ve become stale. They’ve become a character, instead of letting their persona define how we view their character.

The list goes on: Billy Packer, Marv Albert, Paul Maguire, the Matt Millen/John Madden wannabe on Fox NFL Sunday. They find their voice and stick with it. I guess that’s what most of us do in our lives, as well as athletes.

I think we should reinvent Sports broadcasting. Athletes, like other artists, actors and musicians, generally have to reinvent themselves and take on new roles over time in order to maintain successful.

Who else is tired of hearing Madden stumble through Mondays? Paul Maguire botching Sundays? How many times can I hear #### Vitale refer to someone as a Diaper Dandy, a PTP-er, a S-U-P-E-R Star, baby! The first four-hundred thousand, nine hundred and twenty four times was enough. And that moment of my life occurred somewhere back in 2001.

This isn’t necessarily an age thing. I’m tired of Troy Aikman already. He’s about as exciting as watching doing laundry on a Saturday.

What happened to the raised voices? The excitement when something amazing happened? Screaming into the microphone? Remember when Christian Laettner hit that shot against Kentucky in the 1992 NCAA Tournament? Verne Lundquist went absolutely crazy. He forgot who he was—and so did the fans.

They don’t do that on TV anymore. The closest we get is when something absolutely outrageous occurs. Like in the Alamo Bowl this year between Michigan and Nebraska, ESPN’s Mike Trico called that final play where the players were coming onto the field. His voice didn’t really rise above the level of “Well, I’m Semi-Interested In Seeing How This Turns Out” until the Nebraska sideline had emptied, the Michigan player was about to be tackled and Trico remembered he’d forever be the voice of this play if it did become famous.

Now contrast that with the reaction of the Cal-Stanford band game from over twenty years ago. I can still hear the guy, “The BAND IS ON THE FIELD!!!!! THE BAND IS ON THE FIELD!!!!!” Once the play and the game were over, the guy sounded as exhausted as the players—and that’s what I want out of my broadcasters.

What I need is an announcer believing every play in the final two minutes o####ame is the biggest play of the night—of perhaps the season. I need him at “I Wouldn’t Miss This Play And Neither Should You Because It Will Be An Classic In Five Years” level for those final two minutes.

Instead we get guys who’ve been in the booth for way too long. They’re retired players or long-time announcers who’ve lost touch with what’s currently going on. Ever listen to one of these Sunday Slobs try to discuss Fantasy Football stats? It’s painful.

But it’s not quite as painful as what happens when something’s not working with the current announcing team, so we get “The Three Man Booth”. Another name for this is, as I like to call it: Too Many Men in the Booth.

You know why the three man booth doesn’t work? It’s the same reason Batman & Robin (which reached Never Happened status quicker than any other film in history, sometime during its opening weekend) never worked: bad casting. You should know better than to put George Clooney with Chris O’Donnell and Alicia Silverstone.

Just the same way you should know better than to put Al Michaels, Dan Fouts and Dennis Miller in a Sports broadcasting booth. Surprisingly, Dennis Miller wasn’t the problem (in my opinion) with that MNF crew.  He was the entertaining part.

The networks need to stop assuming we need “Football Guys” to explain football. It’s a fairly simple game guys, one that I’m sure I can understand, especially if a seven year old can understand it enough to play Pop Warner ball.

Granted, it’s nice to have ex-football players—and some of them are insightful enough to present good information in an entertaining way. Like Michael Irvin and Deion Sanders. To some degree, you’ve got to have that Behind The Scenes angle. But, as a counter-point, it’s got to be a credible source. I’m not really sure Tom Tolbert’s a credible guy for the NBA. I think you have should have to log more than fifteen game minutes to call yourself an NBA veteran. He’s more of an NBA stain than he is a former player.

Anyway…here’s my grand proposal. Treat Sports Broadcasting like any other source of entertainment—modernize it. Update it. Be bold and creative.

I’m calling this “The Miami Vice Plan” for Sports Television. Going back to the 1980’s, remember Miami Vice? Remember what it did for television? How the pop culture of a city was infused to a cop show that dared to further add popular music into scenes? Crockett and Tubbs were the changing face of dramatic nightly television.

That’s what Sports Television needs. Put on some bold suits—even the ABC yellow jackets aren’t terrible—we remember them don’t we? Combine a Dennis Miller with a play by play guy that compliments him well. Same with Michael Irvin. Get him off the pre-game show and into the booth—the place where it matters.

Stop redoing the same things—the same themes and catchphrases—or Sports TV risks the possibility of a lot more people giving it the treatment my parents gave IU basketball nearly twenty years ago. Maybe they were onto something. Just don’t tell them I said that.