Throwing Out More Thoughts on Sports, Life, and Whatnot

Carolina’s thrilling 3-1 win over Edmonton in Game 7 the other night was just the 14th Game 7 ever played in Stanley Cup Finals history. 66 years of Finals and only 14 Game 7s? You know I had to watch that one. I love history in the making.

I’ve got a few suggestions for making the game of soccer a little more exciting: power plays, a much bigger goal (maybe 40 x 40), and two soccer balls. Oh, and every time a player takes a dive and reacts as if he’s been shot with a bazooka, the other team gets a penalty kick…Sorry. I couldn’t let the entire World Cup go by without taking one poke at the sport.

Does Dunkin Donuts lace their smoothies with crack or heroin? I can’t even see the sign for a store without my car veering off the road toward the front door. And, honestly, those drinks aren’t even that good.

I’d like to thank the Miami Heat and Carolina Hurricanes for making at least two of my predictions from my NBA and NHL Playoff Preview come true. They were the two biggest predictions, too. Sure I was wrong on five others from that piece, but I got the two biggies right.

I was going to devote an entire piece to the fact that journeyman relief pitcher Jason Grimsley—who was caught receiving human growth hormones (HGH) delivered to his home—might have his name etched in stone as one of the most important figures in baseball history. I was going to go on and on about how he might be the first link in a dizzying chain of connections that might bring down some of the biggest names in the sport and cause real change. But I’m so sick of the steroids and HGH talk. I can’t take it anymore. I mean if Grimsley’s on the juice, anyone could be. Forget questioning Albert Pujols. What about every middle relief pitcher at all levels of the game? Are they all using? So enough of this talk for me. No matter what happens—no matter how tainted it may have been—we’ll always have that magical summer of ’98, when every McGwire and Sosa at bat was a stop-the-world event.

Picture this: it’s 10am on a Thursday and a bar full of strangers are cheering and hi-fiving. Is it World Cup Fever or just any excuse to drink in the morning? We got robbed on that penalty kick that allowed Ghana to win the game, by the way.

Big shocker from the NBA: Isaiah Thomas has fired hall of fame coach Larry Brown and named himself the successor. He probably figures that if it works for Pat Riley it will work for him as well. Sorry, Isaiah. You were a great player, but coaching and managing is just not your thing. And I’ve watched Pat Riley. I know Pat Riley. And you, sir, are no Pat Riley.

This could be the craziest baseball season in years. Detroit is in first place. Atlanta is 15½ games out of first—and they trail the Mets! Toronto is only 3 games behind the Red Sox and Yankees. 2½ games separate the five teams in the NL West. And the most anticipated pitching performance of the year was 43-year-old Roger Clemens’ return last night (he last 5 innings and allowed 2 runs). Strange days, indeed.

Who told Pink that she could re-invent herself with her fourth album? Who ever thought Paris Hilton could actually carry a tune? And why do crappy songs like Christina Aguilera’s Ain’t No Other Man keep getting stuck in my head?

I’m a little tired of the Ben Roethlisberger talk, but one thing I know for sure: the defending World Champion Steelers have the 2nd-toughest schedule next season and Big Ben’s injury is going to affect them, especially early on.

Many people were writing stories about how Dirk Nowitzki was the next Larry Bird and a game-changing power forward. Others (including myself) were misguided into thinking that Shaq had anything left in the tank other than one great game in every 10. Meanwhile, Dwyane Wade waltzed in and stole the show in the playoffs and Finals. This kid’s a certifiable superstar. And he has some improving to do in his game. Which is scary.

People wonder why interest in horse racing is down? Without a Triple Crown possibility, the Belmont was reduced to a bunch of horses owned by Saudi princes and one owned by George Steinbrenner.

Is this the year of the “almost” underdog? George Mason makes the Final Four. The 8th-seeded Edmonton Oilers reach the 7th game of the Stanley Cup Finals. Mark it down: the Detroit Tigers will come within one out of winning the World Series—only to have the Cardinals prevail in 7 games.

My brother wants to know why I don’t write more about golf. Did you watch the US Open last week? How much fun is it to watch everyone fail miserably? It’s akin to a 79-78 NBA game. It’s painful sometimes. And just what on earth was Phil Mickelson thinking? So, Boots, that’s why.

m>ww
w.sportsinacan.com