No Speed Racer, No!
Call me a purist. Call me a Northerner. Call me what you will. I just don't get it and I don't think I ever will.
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Call me a purist. Call me a Northerner. Call me what you will. I just don't get it and I don't think I ever will.
Salaries and egos aren't the only things that have been growing exponentially over the past few years in baseball.
It seemed like the perfect time.
North Carolina is the best college basketball team in the nation. Sportswriters and coaches agree on that and they don't need a BCS to tell them that. They stand at 21-2 and a recent web site projected their first round opponent in the 64-team NCAA Tournament to be Winthrop, a school that outside the Carolinas rarely gains any attention or any selections in the local office pool. This is a team that lost to Birmingham Southern and Cleveland State by seven points.
The New York Giants are back in the Super Bowl as underdogs, George Bush is back in the White House, and Tampa, Fla. is once again hosting the granddaddy of sports championships. Has anything changed in the past 10 years?
On Tuesday not one, but two high school hoopsters poured in triple digits for the first time since 1979. Junior Cedric Helmsley knocked down 101 for Heritage Christian Academy in a 178-28 victory over Banff Christian School while DaJuan Wagner scored 100 for Camden High in a 157-67 victory over Gloucester Township Technical School at Camden, N.J.
The last two days in the United States have caused clamoring in the nation for a complete upheaval of the Electoral College and other major tenets of our political process. Perhaps the newsmakers of the front page merely need to flip to the back to learn their lesson.
Way too often, sports journalists find themselves being stamped with the most despicable label they have ever heard -- "Monday-morning quarterback." It pains a reporter so greatly because he feels as though all of the intellect, savvy and knowledge he possesses becomes irrelevant when his conclusion is simply that another decision would have put the home team in the win column.
Every time I turn around, the first something-or-another of the millenium is happening. We live in a society that has become almost obsessed with the time period that we live in. Just because the last three digits of this year are zeroes does not mean that every facet of culture will do a 180. In fact, there certainly seems to be a fair amount that is staying almost exactly the same.
I'll admit it -- I have Olympic fever. The thought of the best athletes in the world competing for their respective countries has to stir the blood of every sports fan in every nation. And the Games of the 27th Olympiad has done little to disappoint, but some of its athletes have.
Over 25 years ago, on April 8, 1974, lefthander Al Downing threw a 1-0 fastball that he hoped would catch the outside of the plate. Instead, the fastball caught air and eventually ended up in the stiff glove of Atlanta reliever Tom House who then had in his mitt the baseball that was the symbolic end of a dream for Henry Louis "Hank" Aaron.
When I was very little, I would sprint home from the bus on the corner and rush inside to finish up my homework before heading out to play. Eventually, I would head in for dinner at my mother's beckon, but I was always ready to go out afterwards to tackle the ankle-biting mosquitoes and the impending darkness.
The scene is a blustery winter night in Michigan about eight or so years ago. The snow blows horizontally across the city, blinding all those who dare to stay up this late on a stormy night. The camera pans across building after building as they all seem to blend into some sort of speckled pattern until arriving at a sight that all denizens of the city can recognize -- Tiger Stadium.
Call me a baseball purist -- call me what you will. I don't necessarily think that the designated hitter is the absolute worst idea in the world. I can even tolerate (in small doses) the incessant discussions of interleague play. But, please there is one thing that is complete cacophony to my virgin, old-fashioned baseball ears. It is what made "Field of Dreams'" Ray Kinsella turn over in his cinematic grave three times since Opening Day. You can have your expansion. You can even have your realignment, but please take the flagpole out of centerfield.
The Dallas Mavericks have won seven of their last eight games. They look to be the hottest team in the NBA with wins in the last three weeks over Utah on the road and against Sacramento and Portland at home. Because of the depth of this year's Western Conference, the Mavericks late-season play will only earn them a higher draft pick. But next year, they will most certainly be a playoff contender. Right?
The scene is as familiar as a Norman Rockwell cover of a Saturday Evening Post.
Ah, the Cinderella. They encompass the list of would-be no-names that emerged from the near-dustbin of college basketball to synergize at the absolute last moment and make a run in their slippers all the way to be Prom Queen at the biggest dance of all.
In the era of Who Wants to Marry a Multimillionaire? and other shameless and fruitless attempts at true love, the Cinderella mythos has gently fallen by the wayside.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
When? What WILL it take?