The Best 4 Days of the Year

I'll just tell you now: I won't be able to sleep tonight. This is Chirstmas Eve for basketball fiends like yours truly. We're entering the greatest 4-day sequence on the sports calendar. Who are the other candidates? Allow me to sift through them and piss on their contrasting lameness.

Super Bowl Sunday be damned - the game is usually a disappointment, and the scene is such a clusterfuck of commercialism and hangers on that the game is an afterthought to most people. What else comes close? MLB's opening day? The games are too insignificant, and it's still cold in half the cities. BCS week? There's your probable runner-up, but the hoops action is so much more concentrated. BCS week is delicious, but it's too much coke, not enough whiskey.

I'll take my double tall of bracket and ball busting basketball ludicrosity now, thanks. At this time, I'd like to spew some random thoughts about the tournament, because I write this for the jolly of it, and don't have editors to cramp my style with "structure" and "facts."
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You know how I know you're gay? You don't have a man-crush on Kevin Durant. This man is the balls, and has plans including but not limited to 32-foot, off-balance threes in the face of double teams. I, for one, have welcomed our new basketball overlord, and wish him a pleasant trampling of the Fighting Reggie Theuses in round one and USC in round 2. After Kevin is done urinating on the facemask of Tyler Hansbrough in the sweet 16, you too will be ready to kneel at the throne of this KG-TMac hybrid sent to us from another galaxy.

The Buckeyes of Ohio State are of course led by 37-year old college freshman Greg Oden. Oden has recently had his jock re-hopped on by many because his injured right hand has healed at long last. Alas, he is now ready to live up to the billing he recieved as an offensive dynamo coming into the season. He also will be fully prepared to travel through time, rationalize the Iraq war, and fulfill several biblical prophecies.

Hopefully you've been fortunate enough to see Joakim Noah's spastic, seizure-like hyphy dance of a celebration from last weekend. If not, go ahead and YouTube it now. Some say he's a douche for this work of artistic expression, but I disagree - I wish Peyton Manning would have got his Mark Madsen on next to Jim Nantz after the Super Bowl.

My nausea is kicking in now, but I have to say it: Kansas is fucking awesome. They completely dismantled Mizzou a while back, and I was in person to view the dismemberment of my Tigers. They turned the second half into a dunk contest, thoroughly waxing our assembly of JuCo transfers and confused passers-by in jerseys. They're sick, and are my selection to win the whole thing. I make this pick, because, what the hell - the Gods of Sport have tortured me for most of college with the whole Cardinals thing, so why not pile it on for my final March here in Columbia.
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My final four is kU, Florida, Georgetown and Ohio State. I know, I made a big stretch there. Really out on a limb with those three one seeds and a number two. Maybe I'm soft. Maybe I'm not. Maybe fuck off. All I know is that I'm thoroughly prepared to immerse myself in my favorite four-day sequence of the year, as you should.

State of the Star 2007: The Bats

Much has been stated, written, re-hashed and rambled regarding the shittiness of the Houston Astros' offensive punch the past two seasons. In fact, just about the only thing said about the Astros' offense in the national media realm the past two years has been how they can't score any runs for poor Roger Clemens. How an offense so mediocre managed to win the pennant in 2005 is a testament to two things: 1) MLB has reached, and could surpass, the NFL in parity, and 2) the Astros pitching staff in 2005 will be seen as legendary in 25 years. Think about it - they went three HOF'ers deep to start the rotation, had (at the time) arguably the hottest shut-down closer in the game, and featured two workhorse set-up guys with electric stuff. Alas, this is not about the pitching of yesteryear, but the bats of today - so I digress.

The pinnacle of such offensive ineptness shone brightly on one of the few games I got to attend at the Juice Box last season: at a businessman's special weekday game closing out a series with the Cubs, Andy Pettitte opposed someone named Ryan O'Malley in his major league debut. The lightning rod that was the Stros' offense managed 5 hits, 6 walks, and 0 runs against the kid, who was back in Iowa 2 weeks later. Nice.

So the Astros responded by splashing loudly in the offseason pool. Gone is the beloved Slick Willy T, and going with him will be his low on-base percentage. Replacing him in CF (unless Hunter Pence hurdles AAA altogether, which is a distinct possibility) is Chris Burke, which will be a boost offensively, but is initially hard to decipher in terms of outfield coverage. Carlos Lee isn't the most speedy of outfielders, and Taveras would have been able to at least cloak that weak spot by shading into left a bit.

Speaking of Lee, we gave a guy $100M who was on the wrong side of 30 with bad knees and a visible belly. This does not reek of long-term financial wisdom. This signing will help this and next year, but may be an albatross reminiscent of the shoulder-impaired Bagwell years we are now exiting.

Those however, are the cons. The first of the pros are that Lance will have a proven All-Star bat to protect him in the order. Lee, like Lance, makes the players around him better by giving them more pitches to hit. Of course, if you're actually reading this, you probably don't need an asshole like me telling you this redundant, well-known fact of baseball.

Luke Scott apparently spent the offseason eating dry chicken and egg whites, hitting for hours in the cage, and doing a great deal of grunting and heavy lifts. Add that to the fact that he was a man on fire late in the year, and I need to believe in the dude. He's been given the starting job in RF to start spring training, and it will take a baaaad March in Florida + poor managerial judgement to keep him from such.

Morgan Ensberg has been a favorite of mine since he first entered the Astro realm. He had that awkward phase where he changed his batting stance every 15 minutes, showed emotion on teams that reeked of "professionalism" (i.e. - stale white guys, see: Jeff Kent), and suddenly exploded in 2005 while Lance slowly recovered from knee surgery. Because of this, watching him last season was rough on me. If Morgan bounces back, it's like doubling the Lee signing. People forget that this guy finished 4th in the NL MVP voting just two years ago - last year people in Houston wanted him maimed for his injury-induced struggles. Come back, Mo-Berg. Please.

Let me offer this preface next - Craig Biggio is an all-time, doubt-free, Texas icon and one of my favorite athletes of all time. But last season, he looked DONE. He hit .246, his worst mark since his rookie 50-game stint of 1988 (I was 3 that season). His second half was atrocious, and correspondingly, the Star picked up Mark Loretta to take some of his reps this season (as well as at SS when we inevitably get sick of Adam Everett hitting .230). Bidge needs 70 hits for 3,000, and he has more than earned the right to walk away on his own terms. His 3,000th hit will be a great moment for the city of Houston, and I'll savor watching it - hopefully in person. For the Astros to succeed this year, Craig needs to find Mr. Peabody's Way-Back machine and be the dude he was in 2004, at least. Otherwise, we may have an air of awkwardness swirling beneath our train filled with oranges.

The black hole of death returns to the bottom of our order this year. By this, of course, I mean 'defense-first' pop-out wizards Adam Everett and Brad Ausmus. Unlike most Astro fans though, I'll stop railing on their obvious offensive limitations and harp on their fine qualities - Everett saves you 1/2 a run a game on defense, and is a pleasure to watch in the field. Ausmus makes everyone he catches better. Plus, if the other guys do their jobs, they'll slide off the hook for another season when they combine to hit in the .235-.245 range.

Overall, the Star should be vastly improved offensively. So much so, that we could be a daunting lineup if Lee comes through, Mo bounces back and Luke Scott becomes a better Jason Lane. Burke will hit for more pop than Willy, and Mark Loretta is 2 years removed from hitting .335 with the Padres.

Still, so many ifs. That's why we watch, though.

State of the Star 2007: Pitching Staff

This is floundering, non-abrasive analysis, but last season truly was a mixed bag for the Astros' pitching staff. The positives were strong enough to carry what success the team did have despite their sickly offensive efforts. Roy-O (15-8, 2.98 ERA, 1.17 WHIP) would have been a worthy winner of his first Cy Young award, Rocketman (7-6, 2.30, 1.04) was a big contributor in the 2nd half when he didn't seem winded, and Dan Wheeler accepted a promotion to closer in stride when Brad Lidge looked like he was about to pitch his way out of professional baseball.

The back half of the starting rotation struggled, though. Wandy Rodriguez was afraid to throw his JV fastball anywhere near the strike zone. A revolving cast of formerly promising young arms flamed out - Taylor Buchholz (the gem of the Wagner trade) started hot but ulitmately fizzled, Jason Hirsh got a cup of coffee in the bigs and wasn't that impressive, and Fernando Nieve was more effective in the pen than as a starter. Brandon Backe, in all his adrenaline-fueled glory, needed Tommy John surgery after making a whopping 8 starts. Andy Pettitte showed signs of being himself, but ultimately had a down year and wound up remarkably mediocre. The Yankees can take him for $16 mil.

The back half of the bullpen was the most striking change than in la serie mundial season of 2005. National media and lesser informed fans will say Brad Lidge never psychologically recovered from Pujolsgate, but Astros brass and pitching minds think differently. Nolan Ryan and others cited Lidge's mechanics for most of his control problems, which caused his formerly devastating slider to sit on the outer half of the plate instead of diving into oblivion. I tend to side with this logic - Lidge was a stand-up guy throughout the whole media circus, and his ascension through baseball, overcoming several bad arm injuries, were bigger life hurdles than Al's game 5 bomb. That, and I have to believe this in order to not want to punch things.

Chad Qualls had another pretty good year, but when he was bad, it was triumphant and memorable (see: Konerko Grand Slam in June series that mirrored gut-wrenching WS blast). Trever Miller proved to be a big lefty upgrade over Mike Gallo, and will accordingly be back for 2007.

Through all this, we ended up not being all that bad. Having Roy, Roger and even a down Andy will do this, though. The Star wound up 2nd in the NL in team ERA (4.08), 4th in batting average against (.256) and 3rd in strikeouts (1160). But you don't care about that, because your Astro nerdery pales in comparison to mine. I digress.

We've got a frightening new look to the rotation in 2007. Bible-pounding lefty Andy Pettitte spurned the Astros big offer to come back, then went back to the Yanks apparently because they would include the player option for '08 that Uncle Drayton wouldn't agree to. Andy then proceeded to say that New York was where "God wanted him to be." Funny that God wanted him in Houston in 2003. I side with the Star in this matter: we got 1.5 seasons from Andy for his last deal, .75 of which were Pettitte-like. He's on the wrong side of the age wall, has arm problems, and had an ERA over 4 pitching in the NL Central last year. Enjoy those Boston and Toronto lineups, big guy. Andy's stats will likely replicate what Big Unit did for the Yanks the past 3 years, if his elbow stays pain-free.

Jason Jennings (in a contract year) was added in a swap with Colorado. We traded the beloved Willy T, Buchholz and Hirsh to get him, which basically means that if we don't get an extension worked out, the trade won't be worth it. He's tabbed as the no. 2, but he really is more of a no. 3 starter if he's on a playoff team. However, we live in an era where Jeff Suppan and Gil Meche are $50-million-plus starting arms, and the Astros still play in AAAA, I mean, the National League.

Woody Williams is 40 and won't be giving you 7 innings a start this year. Still, he was a smart signing and cost wayyyyy less than Pettitte. If he stays healthy, he's an ideal no. 4 starter; unfortunately for us, he's our #3. We'll see how this works out.

The back of the rotation is an open competition this Spring. My early money is that Wandy will win one of the jobs based on familiarity and experience alone, and that Chris Sampson nabs the last slot. I still think Nieve is more valuable as a power short-work arm in the pen, and that he could be very valuable this year considering only Roy and Jennings are innings-eaters. Matt Albers is still a kid, and may benefit from some more work in Round Rock. We saw how the Buchholz thing went last year.

Speaking of Buchholz, he was my biggest disappointment of 2006 - even moreso than Lidge or Backe. He was much-ballyhooed for the longest time, finally got to the bigs, and couldn't find the strike zone. His performace, coupled with the work of Lidge, Hirsh, and the like, led to the door being shown to pitching coach and male model Jim Hickey. Taylor's career has now found the humidifier-enhanced version of Coors Field, a.k.a. where careers go to die. The 2003 deal (Wagner for Brandon Duckworth-Buchholz-Ezequiel Astacio) that brought us that boy wonder may have been a good salary move, and it set the stage for the ascension of Lidge / acquisition of Beltran, but personnel-wise, it was one of Gerry Hunsicker's worst.

The wild card in all this, of course - the pink elephant in the room - is Roger returning. If he comes back in June or July, he makes everybody better. Jennings and Williams move to no. 3 and 4, the pen remains fresher down the stretch, and we may look like the favorites in the Central. I have no idea if he'll come back to the Astros, but getting out to a hot start wouldn't hurt. Much of that hinges on the successes of Mo-Berg, official badass Luke Scott, and festively plump cattle rancher and left fielder Carlos Lee.

A preview of the offense this weekend.

State of the Star 2007: Astros Preview, Prologue

I've endured a large handful of hardship from Cardinal fans since I've arrived in Missouri. Permit me to provide some context here: I moved to Missouri weeks after the Carlos Beltran trade in 2004 - the weekend I moved into my apartment in Columbia, I watched the Cubs series on WGN in which Michael Barrett and Roy Oswalt got into it, thus instigating the Stros insane run to win the wild card, coupled with the Billy Goat's collapse. I had gone to the Juice Box for 20 games that summer, yet they decided to catch flames after I moved 850 miles away.

I then was forced to endure a pennant chase surrounded by inane Cardinal fans and their biased banter. Objectivity is not the forte of the casual sports fan, and these people have been no exception. Usually the breadth of most Cards' fans' knowledge is limited to rehashing how 'amazing' Albert Pujols is and explaining the value of Jeff Suppan. That year's NLCS might have been the best 7-game series that nobody ever talks about. The Game 5 showdown between Brandon Backe and now-Astro Woody Williams (i.e., The Jeff Kent Game) was one of the top 5 Astro games of all time. But, no one outside of Texas or Missouri remembers this, because it happened while the Red Sox became a Disney movie in games 4-7 against the Yankees.

Fast-forward to the 2005 NLCS, which, may I remind Cardinal fans, the Astros actually won - in six games, no less! Cardinal fans conveniently forget this fact, as I was told about the Lidge-Pujols moment roughly 78.347,172 times. Like I could ever forget the feeling of my apartment complex shaking in celebration while I watched the most painful sports moment in my entire life. Thanks, guys. By the way, Roy Oswalt closed your generic-ass, musty, bad-parking-poor-sight-lines cookie cutter Astrodome replica 2 nights later. And no, I haven't grown bitter here. Not at all.

Anyway, 2006 seemed like a wash for the Astros from the get-go. Save from Lance, the offense was anemic, with Morgan Ensberg cerca 2005 turning into Morgan Ensberg cerca 2004. Willy T, God bless him, is fun to watch but didn't get on base nearly enough. Add those two to the perennial black holes in the order named Ausmus and Everett, and even our fantasy-league-esque big three of Roy, Roger and Andy couldn't pull us out of the .500 void. That, and Brad Lidge went crazy, or something. More on him later.

Then, for a stretch of about 10 days last September, I was inebriated with feelings of disbelief and on-the-brink euphoria. After a year of lackluster offensive performances and spectacularly blown leads, the Star was surging at just the right time. That, and the Cardinals were in an epic freefall. Their once insurmountable lead crumbled from a dozen, to five, to a single game. I was checking out tie-breaker scenarios and imagining life should this collapse actually happen. I was giddy with dreams of gloating, braggodacio, and visions of rubbing in what would have been the biggest collapse in the history of baseball.

Then we went to Atlanta. Yeah, that Atlanta. The Atlanta that we had buried the past two seasons, but before that, had tortured us through the 90's during Bagwell's premo years. We may have got 6 hits all weekend, and this ended the wet dream in progress. To add further insult to this, the Cardinals beat an overrated Padres team, the pitching-free Mets, and then managed to beat the Tigers to win the World Series. Sen-fucking-sational.

The winter has been a long one, my friends. Everywhere I turn, I'm reminded of the Cardinals' most recent World Championship. The gloating of my peers has been abundant, but I've grown numb to it by now. So alas, my Astrodom has been tested in every way since I've been here, yet my allegiance is unwavering. There will be no fluctuation in my support for the mighty Astronauts, as they go about the annual rituals that take place in Kissimmee, Florida.

An overview of the offseason moves, as well as a look to '07 to come.

ESPN is Bamboozling You

Note - This isn't a commentary about the Amaechi story, it's about ESPN's circumstances surrounding it. I wouldn't want to stop anyone from buying it out of desire to read 'Man in the Middle,' and in fact, it's gotten great reviews from places like Outsports.com. Had to throw that disclaimer in there.

The Worldwide Leader, despite spurning me recently in my efforts to acquire an internship with them, have been my surrogate family for the better part of two decades. One of their family of networks is essentially all I watch on television - which has, sadly, been the case for most of my time here on this planet. Bill Simmons has evolved into my favorite sportswriter (save your cynicism, I still enjoy his work despite his rampant popularity), and closely trailing him are ESPN.com mainstays Len Pasquerelli, Buster Olney, Tim Kurkjian and Chad Ford. I listen to Mike and Mike in the morning on the way to class/work, and Dan Patrick in the afternoons when possible. So take this for what it's worth - it's not an absolute seige of Big Bristol.

This being said, they have slowly evolved into an amorphous, conglomerate blob of a sports news monopoly since Disney/ABC purchased their souls several years back. The increase in fluffy feature pieces on SportsCenter was digestible, but delivering a quasi-cloaked marketing campaign for Disney-sport-flicks (i.e., The Rookie, Miracle, etc.) has become the status quo. They've tried slapping ESPN's name on a litany of shit: from restaurants to video games. Some of this has made Michael Eisner more money, some has not.

This week, the John Amaechi story has gotten fresh legs since ESPN personality Dan LeBatard evoked caveman-jock-speak from Tim Hardaway regarding the situation. What does this have to do with anything, you may ask? Well, Amaechi's story has been put into book form, and is being produced by... of course! ESPN books. Allow me to run down the various list of items I found interesting in this dynamic.

1. Amaechi's story becomes public, drawing attention primarily just from ESPN's coverage of such a revelation.
2. The NBA and general public's collective yawn lets the story settle.
3. ESPN clamors for any sort of virulent reaction from an NBA personality.
4. LeBatard reveals Hardaway's idiocy.
5. Debate about gay athletes gets new legs, as book is readied for release.
6. This is all happening during the slowest sports month of the year - the time between the Super Bowl and March Madness.

ESPN is aware of its monopoly status is currently holds on national sports news in this country. Don't think that they, combined with the colossus that is Disney, won't put that to use to get you to buy shit. I'm just sayin'.

Playa Hater's Ball: Super Bowl XLI

At this juncture in my life, I don't see myself as a pessimist anymore. My unbridled cynicism has infested every aspect of my being. Pessimist is far too soft a label for a hater of my stature. We have reached the point where I can't help but find the negative aspects of even my favorite things in this world; i.e., the Super Bowl.

It's America's quintessential national holiday - a time when family and friends get together, eat fattening snack foods, down several alcohol-infused beverages, and gather around a glowing piece of metal to watch hundreds of ploys for you to buy shit you don't need. And there's some kind of football game of large significance being played - but half the people watching could care less. This inevitably leads to inane questioning and bitching of monumental proportions by those not immersed in pro pigskin - and, correspondingly, great agitation of people like myself, who wonder why the hell we went to a party to watch this game with these people, knowing damn well that a six-pack, batch of chicken wings and a closed door with the game would bring us more joy.

At this time I would like to redirect your attention to the negative sides of this year's festivities. This year has brought us sensational parity in the NFL. By parity, I mean bad quarterback play, poor decision making and a lot of three-and-outs. The big game pits the embattled Colts against the tradition-heavy Chicago Bears, in a showdown sure to make Sprint, Gatorade, MasterCard, the NFL shop, and a myriad of other Peyton product pitchers salivate.

I bring to you an open vent, teeming with frustration and disgusting over-analysis. The following are 5 storylines you will be tired of in two weeks, after they have been incessantly bashed into your skull by the media powers that be:

1) Lovie Smith and Tony Dungy are great friends.
Remember the Herm Edwards - Tony Dungy snugglefest that we were treated to in the wild card round? Imagine that, ad nauseam, times 3450 this week. I expected all-out man groping at the end of that game after the fluffy sideline reporters' pieces about those two lovebirds. Now, let's dissect this same storyline, again and again, only now all the media outlets who DON'T cover sports 355 days a year can get in on the act, too.
My realistic hope is that the friendship aspect takes a back seat to the fact that these two men are the first African-American coaches in the history of the NFL to make it to the Super Bowl. This is a big moment in the history of the league, and should be treated as such. No sarcasm there, just keeping it real.

2) Peyton gets the monkey off his back
Well, not quite. My early pick is the Indianapolis Peytons in this game, but we'll be treated to 'he doesn't have the big win' angles for another X amount of seasons if he goes Marino on us and loses in 2 weeks. Unlike most of the country, I DIDN'T want to see him beat Captain America and Coach Obi Wan in the AFC title game. Why? Because the Peyton Manning face brings me great joy. His reaction after Logan Mankins fell on that loose ball in the end zone was the best laugh I had all week. Please don't take that away from me, football gods. A relieved, smiling Peyton isn't nearly as entertaining as a laser-armed ball of frustration.

3) Can the Bears win in spite of Grossman?
Oh, Rextasy. Your monumental douchebaggery cost me many a fantasy game this season. Now, after leading 'On The Clock' to a staggering 4-9 mark, you've gone and rode your great defense through a weak NFC all the way to the promised land. I'd like to think that The Sex Cannon (name credit - KissingSuzyKolber sports blog), who looked like a 4-year old who lost his Mommy in the mall at the end of the first half Sunday, would be inept enough to fold under pressure, but the guy is just as likely to throw a tipped-touchdown pass to Berrian. And no, the Bears can't win in spite of Grossman. They'll need a solid effort from him if they expect to win big XLI.

4) The Colts D was crap in the regular season
And now, they're... well, less crappy. Bob Sanders is making himself into the biggest difference maker in the league at safety for the way his presence has changed the persona of the Colts defense the past three weeks. If it were up to our instant-oatmeal-society ESPN analysts, we would send him to Canton right now. We also would have put Tony Romo somewhere between Staubach and Aikman the day after Thanksgiving, though, and you know how that turned out. My circumvented point is that Sanders turns the Colts defense from horrible to slightly below average, and that will probably be enough to slow down Rextasy and the Bears' solid running game.

5) Prince: too risque for halftime?
This is for the Fox Newses of the world. Who cares? I'm 22, not 32. Prince is before my time, and I've never claimed to be big on old school jams. My best memory of Prince was the time Charlie Murphy and I got our asses handed to us at his crib playing basketball. I say we bring Janet back, nipple clips and all.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go serve Harris, Jennings, and Wideman pancakes.

Picks Destined to Fail, Division Round Edition

Holy cover-2 zone, Batman! It's the greatest weekend of the NFL season, and to my giddy, girlish delight we've got the top-4 seeds in each conference still around for the party. As an adamant anti-Dallas personality, I'm also pleased that the Cowgirls are not going to be featured on my television screen this week. As for Tony Romo, what can I say that hasn't been said, printed or left in a threatening / taunting voicemail. I honestly felt bad for the guy last weekend, but at the same time, another week of the Cowboys means another week of T.O., and I need to hear that man's voice about as much as John Mellencamp's at this point.

I'm not going to write that much here, because, well, I'm not getting paid to write this. But as a man of my word, here's one man's analysis of the next two glorious days of playoff football (home teams in CAPS):

Colts 23, RAVENS 26
Peyton's happy feet last week against KC had to have the Ravens salivating. It's getting to the point where you just cannot pick Peyton Manning and/or Tony Dungy in January. They got bailed out last week by a coach unwilling to waver from a game plan everyone in the building knew they would stick to when Herm Edwards decided to run right into 8 and 9 man fronts on every possession. By the way, If Hermanation would have gone play action earlier, and starting using his bigger tight ends against a small Colts secondary, the Chiefs would have avoided the epic stink bomb they dropped last week. See: what they did on their ONE good drive, and my post before the game. By the way, this prediction is rendered void should Kyle Boller be seen on the playing field at any time.

Pats 31, BOLTS 16
I'm banking on Marty slipping into trademark, classic Marty mode, clamming up when Belichick stacks the line to take away LT, and refusing to turn Rivers (in his first playoff game) loose until it's too late. Mr. Brady has become more comfortable with his WEAK recieving core, and the Pats' defense may actually be their best in 5 years.

Eagles 22, SAINTS 31
I'm not ready to see the beautiful Saints' story die. Colston is healthy again, and Lito Sheppard is out - I think Brees will light it up.

Seahawks 12, BEARS 16
I think the Bears can win this game, even with a space cadet at quarterback. The weather will be awful in Chicago, and I can't see a Lovie Smith team, at home, with an extra week to prepare, losing to a very mediocre Seahawk club.

John Mellencamp 4,872, JRAY -12
This is OURRRRRR COUNTRYYYY.