Olympic champion Michael Phelps got caught smoking from a bong at a party at the University of South Carolina. A picture of his alleged illegality was sold to a British newspaper, and immediately sent shockwaves across the world.
The terms “double standard” and “free ride” have been strewn about so flippantly — certain truths must be made clear.
First, Phelps didn’t win more gold medals than anyone else because of pot.
Second, Mary Jane is not a performance-enhancing drug.
Third, this isn’t the worst thing Phelps has done to his image.
Flashback to 2004, when Phelps, fresh off eight medals at the 2004 Athens Olympics, was arrested and charged with drunk driving after speeding through a stop sign. When pressed by the trooper to admit his drunkenness, “The defendant replied, ‘I know. I’m sorry. I was just scared because I have a lot to lose.’”
The fact that his DUI is seen as the second worst thing the Olympian has ever done is mind-boggling.
In 2006, nearly one-third of all traffic-related fatalities — a total of 13,470 deaths — were because of drunk driving, according to the Center for Disease Control and Prevention. And we’re mad Phelps got high at a party, away from the road and children?
In his apology — the role model, not Phelps — for drunk driving, he said, “I recognize the seriousness of this mistake. I’ve learned from this mistake and will continue learning from this mistake for the rest of my life.”
In his apology — again, the role model, not Phelps — for hitting the ganja, he said, “I engaged in behavior which was regrettable and demonstrated bad judgment. I’m 23 years old, and despite the successes I’ve had in the pool, I acted in a youthful and inappropriate way, not in a manner people have come to expect from me. For this, I am sorry. I promise my fans and the public it will not happen again.”
I’m calling shenanigans.
Phelps is not sorry he hit a bong at a party.
He’s sorry he got caught and is now forced to feign an apology for the world and the millions of future swimmers he continues to inspire.
But this raises a question about the era of the role model in our 21st century world, where any escapade can be caught, filmed and distributed to anyone with an Internet connection within seconds.
We should not expect Phelps to “learn from his mistake,” especially considering the puerile criticism of Phelps more closely resembling the Salem witch trials than a criminal investigation.
When seemingly every major sporting event is sponsored by Budweiser, when Diddy can endorse Ciroc premium vodka, when everyone has a photo function on their phones, can we really expect every public figure to be held to the same inane standards in public now that their private lives can be displayed on the web quicker than Rosetta Stone can teach Chinese?
Phelps’ mistake was not hitting the peace pipe but being a world-famous athlete with an inherent responsibility to millions of children to act a certain way.
But even then, this doesn’t set aside the fact that Phelps was doing what more than 97 million Americans have tried, according to a 2007 National Institute of Health study.
The list of people who have tried marijuana include President Barack Obama and former President Bill Clinton, although not successfully — it only works if you inhale. According to Obama, “that was the point.”
No shortage of statistics exist on the fallibility of our marijuana laws, but citing these sources over and over again won’t change the disastrous results of our archaic drug war.
With law enforcement spending billions per year trying to fight this disastrous war, the pot industry itself — although illegal — still generates billions per year, with many wishing money could be taxed and given to the federal government.
Marijuana smokers could provide the single biggest stimulus this economy has ever seen.
Pot is only illegal because of the billions upon billions given to the pharmaceutical industry for less effective, still fatal drugs. Those drugs are getting weirder as well.
The FDA approved use of milk from genetically engineered goats to produce a drug to be marketed and sold in the hopes of preventing the spread of blood clots, according to The New York Times.
The next time you see a commercial for a prescription drug in which the narrator says, “A few studies, some fatal, have been reported with the use of this drug,” think about Phelps, President Obama and the rest of the 97 million of us prevented from using pot responsibly.
Would you rather illegally smoke an herb or legally take a drug made out of goat pleasure?
Originally published in The Daily Reveille...
Monday, February 9, 2009
Hitting the bong was far from Phelps’ worst offense
Labels: Drugs, Economy, Legislation, Michael Phelps, Sports
Monday, January 26, 2009
State-of-the-art venues lack history, alienate fans
I’ll never forget the first time I walked into Wrigley Field in Chicago.
On the ground level, surrounded on all four sides by neighborhoods created out of love for the Chicago Cubs, the first thing that revealed itself to me wasn’t the ivy on the outfield wall or the perfectly sculpted dirt forming the infield.
It was the smell.
Like walking into an old saw mill, the aroma of history — combined with years of leftover vomit, beer and urine — wafted through the crowd’s nostrils with an equal tenacity toward support and admiration of the North Siders.
It was exactly what I wanted.
Regardless of the alleged curse currently haunting the Cubs — no World Series appearances since 1945, no World Series championships since 1908 — the fans of Chicago continue to sell out their most hallowed of grounds.
It’s a shame this trend looks like it’s over.
More often, sports franchises opt for newer, state-of-the-art stadiums in lieu of retaining emblems of their history, by far the biggest factor in establishing any type of home field advantage.
Entire generations of fans have looked forward to the day when they could introduce their children to the same, almost cult-like worship of their hometown team in their hometown stadium.
It’s exactly what pumped through my veins the first time I entered the Louisiana Superdome.
As a die-hard Saints fan, I can’t fully explain the meaning of the Superdome to anyone who hasn’t followed the sport. Others might think I’m either wasting my time following a “meaningless” activity or even suggest I need a little more church.
On Sundays during football season, the Superdome is church.
But like many other churches, the popularity of “old school” is being replaced with high-tech mega-behemoths.
Since 1999, 10 stadiums, labeled state-of-the-art, have been constructed for NFL teams. Two of those arenas house this Sunday’s Super Bowl participants, the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Arizona Cardinals.
Both Pittsburgh’s Heinz Field, which hosts the Steelers, and Glendale’s more recently built University of Phoenix Stadium — housing the Arizona Cardinals — serve as a stark reminder of just how obsessed sports teams are, not with cultivating and nurturing a fan base but with eliminating any semblance of tradition and history.
The latest obscenity of technology lies in Indianapolis, as the Colts opened Lucas Oil Stadium for its inaugural season last fall. The project was estimated to cost up to $720 million, forcing local counties around the area to raise taxes to supplant the $100 million the Colts put up as a franchise.
Like most other SOTAS, the stadium comes with more than a hundred corporate suites.
ESPN.com’s “The Sports Guy,” Bill Simmons wrote a column last November about how SOTAS destroy home-field advantage by forcing its fans to adhere to the changes and to try to redevelop a tradition to last with the team. He verbalized his discontent by claiming Lucas Oil Stadium was nothing more than “the latest state-of-the-art football venue that seems much more interested in looking cool and making money over, you know, actually helping its home team win games.”
It’s this fear that worries me about the future of sports and, most importantly for University students, the upcoming baseball season.
There was no shortage of people attending baseball games at the old Alex Box Stadium. The University even holds the record for most in a season, with 291,676 catching a game in 2003.
The new Alex Box Stadium will house 8,500 seats. The old stadium eclipsed this number five times, despite its capacity of 7,760. It will feature more than four times more space dedicated to restrooms and 5,100 square feet for an arcade, suites, a club lounge and a hall of fame — all brand new additions to LSU baseball.
While 9-year-olds have the chance to ignore the game while pumping quarters by the hundreds into LSU’s Athletic Department, those of us with memories of LSU baseball are understandably miffed.
After losing the 2003 Super Regional to LSU, Baylor head coach Steve Smith commented on what made his experience at old Alex Box memorable.
“I want to commend what I truly believe may be the premiere crowd in all of college baseball — that is a special, special crowd out there. I want to say that the way the fans have responded all weekend to just excellence and outstanding play leads me to believe that they truly do appreciate the difficulty of playing this game. I’m glad to have our players play in front of a crowd that I truly believe appreciated their performance.”
Regardless of the distractions to the game, the fans are what makes a team unique.
Stadiums don’t make dynasties. They simply make money.
Originally published in The Daily Reveille...
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
2008 College World Series Running Diary, Game Three
6:00 p.m. – It's been a while, but I'm back, ready to cover the Cinderella story vs. "Dem Damned Dawgs." Fresno State and Georgia battle in tonight's Game 3 of the College World Series, and I don't have to work tonight, so I decided to make something of myself and follow the lead of great journalists like Edward R. Murrow and Walter Cronkite, ready to stand guard against any and all nuances that happen to occur tonight.
6:02 p.m. – In the interest of full disclosure, I'm a die hard LSU fan (and student), and this game tonight honestly holds no interest for me. Fresno State has overcome nearly insurmountable odds going into tonight, facing some of the toughest teams in the nation -- including Rice and North Carolina twice each. If they win tonight, they would be the lowest seed in any collegiate sport to win the National Championship. But the grief and frustration that plowed me after LSU left the bases loaded in the 8th, only to see North Carolina hit a grand slam in the top of the 9th to eliminate the Tigers. So I'm torn. Fresno State winning tonight would be an incredible story, but I would be just as comfortable if the College World Series title stayed in the SEC. Oh well.
6:04 p.m. – I have HDTV. Erin Andrews is on the screen. Enough said.
6:05 p.m. – Georgia was beat down yesterday, winning 19-10 after giving up a five run lead.
6:07 p.m. – Junior southpaw Nathan Moreau gets the ball tonight for Georgia, having pitched in 17 games prior, posting a 4-3 record with a 5.22 ERA. His inside pitching is highlighted as he used it to defeat Vandy in the clincher earlier this month.
6:08 p.m. – Look out for White Sox draft pick Gordon Beckham from Georgia. His glove looks amazingly comparable to his range.
6:10 p.m. – Shortstop David Muno is up first for Fresno State, and he's hitting .391 in the Series. Remember his name. He's a freshman shortstop leading off. That's tremendous pressure.
6:12 p.m. – Muno has fouled off four pitches, and his swing reminds me of Fukudome. Not rushed but total plate coverage. I say that as he grounds out to second.
6:14 p.m. – Fresno State was a four seed in their regional, and ESPN has a graphic of regional seeding equivalents for baseball and basketball. Comparably, Fresno State is a 14 or a 15 seed if seeded by March Madness rules. It only emphasized just how far they've come. I think I'm slowly starting to let my preference known. Was it going to be any surprise? I'm a Cubs fan too. FOREVER THE UNDERDOG!!!
6:16 p.m. – They were also 4 games over .500 going into the WAC tournament and pretty much pronounced dead. Centerfielder Gavin Hedstrom smacks a single just in front of the third baseman and Fresno State's got one on.
6:18 p.m. – Second baseman Erik Wetzel now steps in, hitting .407 in the Series. He flies out to right.
6:20 p.m. – Steve Susdorf hit a two-run shot to right last night against Georgia, but in this first inning he shows me what a left-handed hitter should look like in the box. Before showing me anything, Hedstrom is gunned down by Georgia catcher Joey Lewis, starting behind the plate in place of Bryce Massanari who moved to DH.
6:24 p.m. – We’re now in the bottom of the first, and Fresno State’s pitcher is fat. His name is Justin Wilson, he’s pitched in 22 games, earning an 8-5 record with a 4.34 ERA. But for this running diary, he will be known as Fatboy Wilson.
6:25 p.m. – As Georgia third baseman Ryan Peisel steps in, I can’t help but think that I can’t refer to either of these teams by their mascot name. They’re both the Bulldogs. Well, technically Fresno State is the Bulldogs, whereas Georgia is “Dat dem Dawgs AWYDERE$#%@#,” I guess.
6:26 p.m. – Fatboy’s got some filthy stuff. Meisel struck out like he was John Cusack 25 minutes before the movie ends.
6:27 p.m. – Matt Olson hits the ball straight to second for the second out.
6:28 p.m. – Gordon Beckham steps in with ridiculous numbers. .410 batting average, 27 homers (1 behind LSU’s Matt Clark for the nation’s lead), 76 RBIs, a .519 OBP, and in the CWS, 10-19 with a homer and 4 RBIs. For college?
6:29 p.m. – He smacks a changeup lightly into left field for a beautiful hit. The kind of beauty that comes after a Tony Gwynn single. It doesn’t sell tickets, but it wins ball games and looks like real baseball.
6:29 p.m. – These names are testing my spell check. First baseman Rich Poythress steps in with a healthy .375 average and 75 RBIs. He has 8 RBIs in the CWS, helping Georgia go to 4-1 in the CWS. He promptly flies out.
6:29 p.m. – Steve Susdorf, the Philadelphia Phillies’ 19th pick in the Draft, smacks a line drive that careens off Poythress’s glove and into left for a single.
6:30 p.m. – Next up for Fresno State is first baseman Alan Ahmady, batting .386 coming into the CWS, as Susdorf’s hit is ruled an error by Poythress. Ahmady flies out to left.
6:32 p.m. – Seven first round draft picks have played this year in the College World Series. ::Carsenio-esque:: I did not know that. That is some weird, wild stuff.
6:33 p.m. – YES!
6:34 p.m. – Fresno State has lost two games in Omaha, but the second loss came as a part of the Best of Three format for the final. Poythress flies out to center to end the first, but the announcer brings up the point that Fresno State has played the maximum amount of tournament games possible. They’ve faced elimination at every stage, defeating San Diego 5-1 in the Regional, #3 ranked Arizona State twice in the Super Regional, #2 North Carolina in the CWS to earn a spot in the final, and they won in lieu of going home yesterday against Georgia 19-10. This is truly stunning.
6:35 p.m. – Right fielder Steve Detweiler steps in with one out and a runner on first, and he has a torn ligament in his left hand. Yet, he’s playing in this elimination game. There’s no tendon in there. I don’t know how he was cleared to play. He’s only hitting .256.
6:36 p.m. – The announcer announces that Detweiler is a reliable hitter in clutch situations, including the hit-and-run Fresno State is trying to execute now with a 3-2 count.
6:36 p.m. – I guess I feel stupid?
6:37 p.m. – Detweiler hits Fresno State’s 13th home run in this CWS. He has no thumb on his left hand, and he just took Nathan Moreau deep to right.
6:38 p.m. – I officially feel stupid. I forgot the Cardinal Rule about Omaha – ironically, established by Stanford. Anything can happen in Omaha. Third baseman Tommy Mendonca strikes out hard for out #2.
6:39 p.m. – Catcher Jake Johnson flies out to first, but the damage has been done by Detweiler. 2-0 Fresno State.
6:41 p.m. – Georgia DH Bryce Massanari steps in, as Fatboy pitches against Georgia’s Fatboy. hits a shot to shortstop Muno who bobbles and can’t make the play at first, despite Massanari’s girth. They cut to Massanari’s hot wife Lauren and their new baby. I still love HDTV.
6:42 p.m. – Matt Cerione hits a single to right for Georgia, and now runners are on first and second with no out.
6:43 p.m. – Catcher Joey Lewis, the one that gunned Gavin Hedstrom, strikes out on three straight pitches.
6:44 p.m. – Lyle Allen up next with one out, as the shadows of Johnny Rosenblatt Stadium come into play. He strikes out on three straight.
6:45 p.m. – Erin Andrews again. I’m still in love.
6:46 p.m. – Since Cerione’s hit, including foul balls, Fatboy’s pitched 10 straight strikes. Number 11 is called too high for second baseman Miles Starr. Fatboy is looking more and more like David Wells, in size and facial expression. He’s listed on the Bulldog Web site at 210, and allegedly he’s younger than me by six months and a day.
6:47 p.m. – Miles Starr is battling pretty good, although still at a 1-2 count. He hits it to David Muno, who throws it too high to achieve the fielder’s choice at second. It’s his second error of the inning after playing flawlessly in the CWS up to tonight. Bases loaded, two out.
6:48 p.m. – Ryan Peisel hits a deep shot to center, but is out ten feet short of the fence. Fatboy gets out of the inning, after getting five outs if not for David Muno. I told you to remember the name. So much for pressure.
6:53 p.m. – Fresno State’s nine-hole, catcher Danny Grubb, in only hitting .181. By the way, the “announcer” is Mike Patrick, being joined by Orel Hershiser. Grubb flies out the right for the first out. As Grubb walks back to the dugout, ESPN’s “other” field man stands in front of the gate as Grubb walks past him, obviously pissed.
6:55 p.m. – The shortstop, David Muno, is up as Fresno State gets back to the top of the order. Muno hits to second, and a nice play by Miles Starr gets him out.
6:56 p.m. – Now it’s Hedstrom again with two outs, and Moreau’s having problems with his control. His breaking balls are dipping too low, but it doesn’t stop him from inducing a fly out to center to end the inning. Meanwhile, ESPN’s Bottom line shocks me by reporting that the Kansas City Royals are 9-1 in their last 10 games. Really?!?!?
7:01 p.m. – Matt Olson comes up for Georgia, as Fatboy Wilson’s stuff is still nasty. He misses low with a couple breaking balls, but gets it back up to even the count at 2-2. Olson hits it to Mendonca at third, they show Erin Andrews again (ahhh), and we have one out.
7:02 p.m. – Gordon Beckham hits a shot to deep right, but Detweiler fights off the sun for out number two. Beckham holds the all-time Georgia record for home runs and is a 2nd team Academic All-American. He’ll be a very smart baseball player.
7:03 p.m. – Rich Poythress singles to left with two outs to keep the inning alive.
7:04 p.m. – Bryce Massanari has apparently been mocked for gaining weight during the season, and it shows in Omaha. He’s 3 for 19 up there. But his hot wife Lauren looks stunning in HD. Their daughter’s name is Marley, if you care. Marley Massanari. Nice.
7:05 p.m. – Fatboy vs. Fatboy turns into a great at-bat, lasting eight pitches with an inning-ending strikeout. Bryce is pissed, Lauren looks hotly concerned, and Marley is giggling.
7:09 p.m. – Fresno State has gone from Sacramento State for their final regular season game on 5/16, to Ruston, LA for the WAC Tournament on 5/22, then to the Long Beach, CA Regional on 5/30, the Tempe, FL Super Regional on 6/7, and Omaha on 6/15, making them road warriors for the past 42 consecutive days.
7:10 p.m. – Top of the fourth, second baseman Erik Wetzel up for Fresno State. Moreau gets back into form by striking him out with high heat.
7:12 p.m. – Fresno State third baseman Tommy Mendonca was selected yesterday to the U.S. National Team for the summer, and will head to Gary, NC tomorrow to play ten games before going to Europe.
7:12 p.m. – Left fielder Steve Susdorf steps in with one out and walks.
7:14 p.m. – First baseman Alan Ahmady comes up, strikes out, and screams.
7:16 p.m. – The first pitch to Steve Detweiler is low, Susdorf takes off for second, and Joey Lewis chucks it over second into left, allowing Susdorf to take third.
7:17 p.m. – Mike Patrick: “I don’t know about you, I don’t mess with Detweiler.”
7:18 p.m. – Detweiler screams a double to the wall in center, scoring Susdorf, increasing Fresno State’s lead 3-0 and his own mystique by playing without a tendon in his thumb.
7:20 p.m. – Tommy Mendonca can’t focus on tonight’s game, maybe because of his upcoming U.S. of Play. He strikes out swinging the bat four straight times, with the one foul ball being on a low sinker. End of the inning, 3-0 Fresno.
7:23 p.m. – Matt Cerione steps in for Georgia. He is frozen with a fastball on the outside corner, Fatboy’s fourth strikeout. Cerione takes issue with the call and jaws a bit, but that pitch was good looking. They cut to Cerione in the dugout throwing his bat to the ground, but the audio picks him up screaming “FUCK YOU BITCH!” out to the umpire. Ah, Southern Gentlemen.
7:23.55 p.m. – Mike Patrick: “Whoa.”
7:24 p.m. – Catcher Joey Lewis his a deep ball to center that bounces off the top of the wall and drops in front of the center fielder for a standing triple. He has sufficiently made up for his chuck.
7:25 p.m. – Lyle Allen strikes out again, Fatboy’s fifth. Two out.
7:26 p.m. – Miles Starr strikes out. Fatboy’s sixth. End of the fourth inning.
7:31 p.m. – Fresno State DH Jake Johnson leads off the fifth, as the sun stays out and plentiful. He hits a high bouncer to third, recovered by Peisel and thrown to first for the first out.
7:32 p.m. – Georgia center fielder Matt Cerione shows his range by running down out number two, courtesy of catcher Danny Grubb. He’s down to .179.
7:34 p.m. – Top of the order with two outs, Danny Muno steps in.
7:34 p.m. – The Rays are now beating the Marlins 8-0. That’s not an egregious typo.
7:35 p.m. – Muno flies out to right. I just got a memo in my e-mail: “The Devil Rays are not only just the Rays, they’re also good this year.” Guys, A LITTLE HEADS UP WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE! Carlos Pena’s still on the DL, he’s still on my fantasy team, and the Rays will start sucking when he comes back. It’s the worst kind of karma I’ve gotten used to over the years.
7:38 p.m. – Mike Patrick ended Fatboy’s previous inning by exclaiming, in that Mike Patrick way, “Wilson has six….strikeouts this evening!” I thought he was off by one, as I was sure I wrote down seven different strikeouts. A quick look up at what I just wrote counts seven strikeouts, but only gives credit for six because I trusted Mike Patrick. We begin the bottom of the fifth now, and Orel Hershiser’s talking about Wilson’s seven strikeouts. Fucking Mike Patrick…
7:38 p.m. – Ryan Peisel steps in and grounds to third. Erin Andrews….alright, I’ll stop it. ARE YOU WATCHING ERIN ANDREWS IN HD? I DON’T THINK SO!
7:39 p.m. – Matt Olson, 0-2 tonight, comes in and takes the first two strikes before fouling one off. Fatboy slips off the mound during that pitch and slams his pitching hand in the dirt. Looks like his thumb grazed the mound. He recovers quickly and strikes out Olson. Number 8 for Fatboy.
7:42 p.m. – Gordon Beckham now up, the All-American shortstop. His father was a QB at South Carolina from 1979-82, but it doesn’t stop him from flying out to Detweiler in right. 1-2-3 inning for Fatboy as Fresno State leads after 5, 3-0.
7:46 p.m. – Dean Weaver comes in for Georgia to pitch the top of the sixth. The righty is 6-1 on the season, including 1-0 in the CWS. Moreau’s night is done after five innings and three runs, two of the earned variety.
7:47 p.m. – The umpire stops play, comes up to the mound to talk, but neither Mike Patrick nor Orel Hershiser has any idea what’s going on.
7:48 p.m. – Gavin Hedstrom grounds out to shortstop for the first out.
7:49 p.m. – Erik Wetzel tries to surprise bunt, but Weaver picks it up and throws to first for the second out.
7:50 p.m. – Georgia would be the first team ever to win the title with a losing record in the previous season, as they went 23-33 last year.
7:51 p.m. – Steve Susdorf comes up with two outs and shoots one to left. It bounces off the wall and kicks back in for a double.
7:52 p.m. – Alan Ahmady comes up with two out, two RBIs short of the nation lead. He already owns the single season record, but coming through here with two outs would be clutch, especially with Steve Detweiler on deck.
7:54 p.m. – Ahmady walks, and now runners are on first and second with two out for the 2 for 2 Detweiler, still sans ligament in his thumb. As Orel Hershiser explains, “They’re gonna get one [ligament], and put her in, like Tommy John surgery for your thumb.” Ah, former Dodgers.
7:56 p.m. – After two balls, Detweiler takes strike one.
7:56 p.m. – Tense.
7:56 p.m. – Very tense.
7:56 p.m. – Ball three, high.
7:57 p.m. – LEEGAMENTS! WE DON’T NEED NO STINKING LEEGAMENTS!!! Detweiler homers to deep left, off a high heater from Weaver.
7:57 p.m. – Mike Patrick: “IMAGINE WHAT HE CAN DO WITH TWO THUMBS!”
7:58 p.m. – Ground ball out by Mendonca ends the inning, but Detweiler has all six Fresno State RBIs. In the middle of the sixth inning, Steve Detweiler 6, The University of Georgia 0.
8:00 p.m. – For the crap I’ve talked about Fatboy, he’s pitching really well. And Detweiler has set four CWS records with his performance tonight.
8:00 p.m. – Poythress flies out to center for one.
8:01 p.m. – Massanari flies out to right center for two. No hot wife shot.
8:01 p.m. – Cerione swings at the 0-2, his bat flies into Fresno’s dugout. I’ll say it again. I love HDTV. Especially in slow motion.
8:03 p.m. – They show the Fresno dugout on the next pitch, as the entire team ducks under the net.
8:04 p.m. – They show it twice.
8:05 p.m. – Mike Patrick: “There’s nothing like baseball humor, right?”
8:06 p.m. – Cerione pushes the count to 3-2 after a headhunter. The payoff is chopped to Mendonca, who picks it nicely and fires it to first for the third out. Fatboy gets out of the sixth.
8:08 p.m. – Top of the seventh, Fresno is three innings away from history.
8:08 p.m. – Jordan Ribera pinch-hits for Jake Johnson at DH, as Weaver is still on the hill. Ribera charges it to right field but Olson catches it.
8:09 p.m. – 44,535 people voted in ESPN.com’s poll of tonight’s outcome. 69.3% picked Georgia.
8:10 p.m. – Danny Grubb digs in, 0-2 for the night. He flies out to left field.
8:11 p.m. – Top of the order with two outs, Danny Muno comes up. He smokes one to center for a nice looking single.
8:12 p.m. – Hedstrom bunts nicely to the third base side, but Weaver snatches, turns and fires to first in time by an inch. Still 6-0.
8:13 p.m. – Mike Patrick: “Fresno State would be THE LOWEST SEEDED TEAM IN THE NCAA TO WIN THE NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP. EVER. EVER. And ever is a long time.”
8:14 p.m. – Matt Cerione flies out to center for out number one.
8:15 p.m. – Joey Lewis flies out to first on the next pitch. Ten straight outs for Fatboy.
8:15 p.m. – Lyle Allen hits one to Muno at short, but he doesn’t lay down the glove and it skittles to left for Muno’s third error. Fatboy doesn’t look worried, but two pitches later, a wild pitch sends Allen to second, and two more pitches later places Ryan Peisel on first with Fatboy’s first walk.
8:16 p.m. – Matt Olson steps up with two out and two on for Fatboy. After the 1-1 count, Fatboy’s up to 111 pitches. Well, he only has two pitches, the fastball and the big curve. But from a lefty, it’s effective. Olson flies out to Hedstrom in center, as Georgia strands two more. Fatboy’s on fire.
8:23 p.m. – Erik Wetzel steps up first for Fresno, and quickly grounds out to second. I’m just wondering if I have a secret power. Every athlete I’ve ever spoken ill of before seeing what they can do ends up putting on a show.
8:25 p.m. – Steve Susdorf is hit in the elbow and advances to first after a quick checkup.
8:27 p.m. – Why was Shawn Chacon suspended from the Houston Astros?
8:29 p.m. – Alan Ahmady hits it sharply to the pitcher who throws it to second, but they can’t turn two. Runner on first for The Detweiler.
8:30 p.m. – The Detweiler just went 4-4. He smacks a single to right field on the first pitch which Matt Olson short hops. Runners on first and third.
8:31 p.m. – Alex McRee comes in to pitch for Georgia. Weaver’s night is done.
8:33 p.m. – Tommy Mendonca hasn’t got anything started tonight, and with an 0-2 count and two outs with two on, Mendonca hits it to deep right, but Olson snares it in.
8:37 p.m. – Gordon Beckham steps in for Georgia, and the shutout is over. He homers to deep right to tie LSU’s Matt Clark for the NCAA’s home run lead. Frankly, he looks like Matt Damon, but I won’t hold it against him.
8:38 p.m. – Rich Poythress flies out to first.
8:39 p.m. – Bryce Massanari flies out to center. Two down.
8:41 p.m. – Matt Cerione has taken his meds, but it hasn’t helped him to take strike three again. Fatboy’s line: 8 IP, 5 H, 1 R, 1 ER, 1 BB, 9 K, 17 giant veins in his neck after screaming with joy.
8:42 p.m. – Rays: 15. Marlins: 1. Fantasy Points for Carl Crawford: Priceless.
8:45 p.m. – Nick Hom comes off the bench to smack a single into center. Trent Soares pinch hits for Hom.
8:46 p.m. – Danny Grubb is hitting .177 after his 0-3 night tonight. In this fourth at-bat, as Mike Patrick thanks the crew, who are all shown holding cameras pointed at each other, but none of them wave. That’s a professional crew.
8:48 p.m. – Soares takes off for second, and Lewis’s throw is perfect, but the slide kicks the ball out.
8:49 p.m. – Grubb gives himself up to second base, and with the pitcher covering, Soares takes third. One out.
8:50 p.m. – Top of the order, Danny Muno’s fifth at-bat after going 1-4 with three egregiously freshman errors. He takes a called strike three.
8:52 p.m. – Joshua Fields, the nation’s top closer and the Seattle Mariners’ 20th overall pick, comes in at the top of the ninth with two outs. He’s 18 for 18 in save opportunities this season, tied for first in the nation, but the manager’s giving him his due.
8:53 p.m. – Gavin Hedstrom is swinging at 95 mph cheese. Ground ball out to second. THREE OUTS AWAY.
8:54 p.m. – ESPN ain’t cutting to commercial.
8:55 p.m. – Clayton Allison comes in to close it out for Fresno, as Fatboy gets hugs and high fives from his teammates. 129 pitches, one memorable night.
8:58 p.m. – Joey Lewis hits a scorcher to right which takes a funny hop around Detweiler, giving Lewis a double. Mike Patrick remarks that the first mistake for Detweiler had to come at some time in Omaha.
8:59 p.m. – Robbie O’Bryan steps in to pinch hit, and takes the first three balls from Allison before the first strike call. Ball four is wide right, and Allison walks him to put runners on first and second. That’s all she wrote for Clayton Allison, and they go to Brandon Burke, the actual closer in lieu of the senior Allison, from the bullpen.
9:04 p.m. – Tonight is Burke’s 38th appearance, and he has 15 saves on the season. Adam Fuller pinch runs for Robbie O’Bryan, but a ground ball to Danny Muno induces a double play, making up for his horrible performance. His teammates are in shock.
9:05 p.m. – Ryan Peisel steps up with a runner on third, two outs in the bottom of the ninth. After working the count to 2-2, Burke fist pumps after ball three, thinking it to be a strike. The next pitch is a ball, and Peisel walks to first.
9:06 p.m. – Matt Olson steps up with runners on first and third, but on the first pitch, he flies out to – who else? – Detweiler. Fresno State University wins the 2008 College World Series. He shoves the ball in his pocket and runs to the middle of the field for the Dog Pile.
The championship shirts are flying out, the tears are flowing, and the one thing we knew would happen going into tonight’s game came true.
The Bulldogs are National Champions.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
LiveBlog: Wrestlemania XXIV
Wrestlemania XXIV
6:01 p.m. - It is pure pandemonium here in Orlando! Eric W. Freeman, Jr., blogging live from Casa de Gremillion, as tonight we will focus on the grand daddy of them all, the biggest sports-entertainment extravaganza of all time, Wrestlemania XXIV! Where it all begins, again. I will be joined tonight by Opinion Editor Neal Hebert, as well as fellow columnists Caitlyn Scott and Skylar Gremillion, where we will gang-blog the bejesus out of tonight’s event. Many matches will be covered tonight, and we will be taking turns, as well as providing insightful analysis. By “insightful,” I mean “worthy enough for post.” So sit back, relax, and enjoy tonight’s madness.
Introduction
6:11 p.m. - Fighter jets fly across the top of the arena as the rain falls slowly over the Orlando sky. We are introduced to Grammy-award winner John Legend, wearing a pink shirt and shades, to sing America the Beautiful. Comments among us arise as to whether or not John Legend is the Steve Urkel of music, as he is a safe black man. Great rendition.
6:13 p.m. - Basic promo, as the superstars talk dramatically about immortality, stealing the show, and making the most out of every opportunity. There’s nothing like a pre-event montage.
Pyro
6:16 p.m. - The pyro looks stunningly normal in front of gray skies and outdoor settings. I don’t know if the rain will play a major role, but we’ll see.
John Bradshaw Layfield v. Fit Finlay - A Belfast Brawl
6:15ish:
Opinion Editor and proud wrestling enthusiast Neal Hebert here.
Entrances and video montages are setting the stage for what I expect to be a total massacre of stiff (i.e., not pulled) punches and physicality.
Here’s the thing I love about John Bradshaw Layfield (JBL hereafter) - his entire persona is a contemporary updating of Ronald Reagan’s public image.
Finlay comes out accompanied by a leprechaun.
And they’re off, absolutely beating the hell out of each other. You see, the paternity of the leprechaun is in question during the match - the leprechaun is supposed to be the son of WWE Chairman Vince McMahon, but JBL claims the leprechaun is actually Fit Finlay’s son.
Sorry for the backstory - in the interim both competitors have begun beating each other repeatedly with garbage cans, steel steps and the dreaded cookie sheet.
So we’ve been having computer problems, and for that I apologize. The leprechaun involved himself in the match, but to no noticeable effect.
Pretty spectacular visual - Fit Finlay dives out the ring in a plancha like superman, only to have JBL tee off on his head with a garbage can lid as he flies past. Then he threw the garbage can at the leprechaun.
This is so awesome.
And Finlay has recovered from this devastating turn of events because of the damage done to his leprechaun son.
And we’re experiencing technical difficulties. Thanks Cox Communications.
So I’ll just use this opportunity to go on about how much I like JBL. You see, I’m a big fan of wrestling’s potential for social commentary - and I think the JBL character is the best thing going in pro-wrestling right now. The stereotype of the average wrestling fan - whatever that means - is a rural conservative Southerner. So the idea of taking a bad guy like JBL and having him use conservative talking points as a way to make fans hate him is pretty impressive.
If you were to have told me a few years ago that the best way to get people to hate you in pro-wrestling would be to proudly proclaim “Morning has come to America!” I’d have called you a liar. If you’d have told me that using nativist and xenophobic rantings about immigration would be a way to get middle America to hate your guts, I’d have laughed.
But JBL did that to make crowds hate him, and it worked.
So what’s pretty cool is that you have a character that embodies the kind of thinking that so dominates mainstream political discourse, and crowds soundly reject him both as an individual and as a representative of the right. It’s always pretty cool to see someone so completely embody the zeitgeist of a particular cultural moment - and I think JBL is that character, and this is that moment.
Experiencing technical difficulties, people...Still Neal Hebert.
So here’s the deal - I’m sitting on Skylar Gremillion’s couch with my metaphorical thumb up my metaphorical butt, wondering what happened to my rasslin’ show.
I’m pretty upset.
I’m thinking we as a University should take to the streets with torches, demanding my blue collar entertainment.
Because - honest injun - I’m doing this for all of you. And these Cox Communications issues make me feel like God is trying to keep me from giving all of you what I promised.
-neal
So while waiting for wrestling to come back on I just did the unthinkable……and incredibly pretentious act of googling myself.
For the record, the .pdf State of Louisiana v. Neal Hebert was not me. I did not serve as a cocaine mule.
More importantly, I’ve learned that several of the columns I wrote for The Daily Reveille were transmitted far and wide across www.land and I’m quite pleased.
The American Muslim linked to my column “Can we stop calling everything Islamofascist?” column as one of the best tools to combat anti-Muslim hatred and the loathesome Islamofascism Week.
The column I wrote about MTV’s “A Shot At Love With Tila Tequila” got pretty significant linkage as well, posted on loads of cool websites and looked to me to be one of the featured opinion pieces on University Wire that day. It was everywhere, seemingly.
Sadly, Tila didn’t myspace me.
-neal
On a related note...…if you do a Google.com search for Caitlyn Scott, images of SG President Cassie Alsfeld appear. A Google search for Eric Freeman reveals a Salsa dancing instructor.
Hilarity has ensued as Skylar talks to Cox Communications employees about the problem we’re having. He assumed the employee could spell “Gremillion” without prompting. When asked what the problem is with our television and what we’re seeing on TV, Skylar simply says “Blackness.”
It’s a propos, because that is all we see. But more importantly, it’s an apt description of my metaphorical heart.
My heart has been raped. Raped by lack of wrestling.
-neal
Here's the deal:Neal Hebert here.
We’ve had to move locations to keep this going.
So we’re at my apartment. But I don’t have wireless, so all our laptops are gone.
We’re saving the liveblogs to a flashdrive and porting it to my desktop (that was new in 2001).
Please forgive any delays - we’re doing our best, here.
Ric Flair v. Shawn Michaels - Career Threatening MatchKane won the ECW title in three seconds.
Why oh why is Raven Symone on Wrestlemania? Oh, she’s introducing a bunch of Tard kids. Dreams come true for the mentally challenged.
Now we have a Ric Flair montage. I am seriously getting teary eyed. Watching Ric Flair with my Grandpa is one of my fondest memories as a child. WOOOOOO. This is so emotional. We have the Nature Boy versus the Showstopper.
Ric looks stunning in robes of deep blue with white feather trim.
This is a career threatening match. If Ric loses he must retire.
And introducing Shawn Michaels in a sleeveless sequin shirt. He looks ready to perform at Dick’s Cabaret or any bachelorette party. A part of me wishes he had assless chaps.
Skylar Gremillion here calling the action for you. Caitlyn Scott, overcome with emotion has passed the torch.
This match represents the ultimate in pro-wrestling. The legend, Ric Flair. A man who’s packed arena’s around the world and wrestled longer than I have lived is putting his career on the line against Shawn Michaels. At more than 60 years old Flair is an institution in professional wrestling.
The two men square off, Flair takes the lead early with a hammerlock. Michaels counters and the two exchange holds for a bit. Charles Robinson, also known as Lil Natch, is the ref, which is also appropriate.
Flair backs Shawn in the corner, and Michaels responds with a hard slap. Flair is bleeding from the mouth and fires away at HBK with several stiff chops. The two exchange chops in the corner. The crowd enthusiastically “Woo’s” with each chop by Flair.
This won’t be high flying, this won’t be technical, this is a fight.
Flair goes up top….this may not be good. Flair scores with a cross body block off the top, shades of his first NWA title win over Harley Race.
Michaels misses an Asai moonsault landing stomach first on the announce table outside the ring. The Ref is counting, HBK may not make it, but he rolls in at the count of 9. That spot will be shown on TV for years to come. Shawn may have broken ribs.
Flair attacks with a backdrop suplex, working the newly injured ribs of Michaels. He follows with a butterfly suplex . Flair scores with a vertical suplex and scores a nearfall.
Flair takes a tumble over the top and lands on his back. Shawn goes up again, nailing a moonsault off the top rope to the outside. He didn’t get all of it though, and I think HBK may have taken the worst of it.
They exchange stuff chops again. Michaels ducks out of it and responds with a diving forearm off the ropes.
Flair v. Michaels (continued)Still Skylar:
Atomic drop by Michaels leads to a Flair flop. Michaels goes up top, looking for the elbow drop and it connects. He jumps up, but is clutching his ribs in pain. That Asai moonsault to the table really did it’s damage.
HBK’s looking for Sweet Chin Music, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t hit his idol with the superkick. Flair responds with a double leg takedown and the FIGURE FOUR LEGLOCK. Jumbo Tsuruta, Nick Bockwinkle and other legends have all fallen to this move, but HBK makes it out.
The two exchange chops again, leading to a series of pinning combinations. Michaels reverses a knee breaker into a sunset flip, but his ribs are too damaged to take flair down.
Flair chopblocks HBK and begins to work on the legs, but Michaels reverses into a roll up. Flair escapes and locks in the figure four once more. Michaels is in the center of the ring, I’m not sure if he can make it to the ropes. HBK is screaming in pain, but makes it to the ropes in time.
HBK is safe for now.
SWEET CHIN MUSIC out of nowhere. Flair is down, this could be it. FLAIR KICKED OUT. TWO COUNT.
A replay reinforces the strength of the kick. I don’t know how Flair is still conscious.
HBK tunes up the band again, but flair is down.
Flair was faking and takes Michaels down with a low blow, which gets a 2.9 count.
Michaels takes flair down with a double leg and applies his own modified figure four, but flair makes it to the ropes. The buckle pad gives way but Flair gains control with a Greco roman eyepoke.
More traded chops. Another Sweet Chin Music and Flair is down.
HBK looks hesitant to kick Flair again. This is his childhood hero, can he end his career tonight?
A third Sweet Chin Music and Flair is done. 3 count and a fall.
With that last superkick HBK has put an end to the career of Ric Flair. Michaels can’t even face his icon and leaves the ring immediately, not even looking back at his fallen hero.
Flair has tears in his eyes and the crowd is on their feet.
Caitlyn Scott “ I feel like my favorite gladiator just got the thumbs down.”
I can’t even think of what to say. Flair hugs his kids and kisses his wife. There’s no speech, Flair walks to the back with tears streaming down his battle worn face.
Flair mouths “I love you, thank you” to the fans and takes a final bow.
We’re all fighting back tears. Neal Hebert is weeping.
Thank you Ric, you’ve never let me down.
Playboy Bunny Diva ShowdownEric is back. No lying about tonight’s pyro display. Literally every orifice of the stadium just exploded into fireworks.
Next is the Playboy Bunny Lumberjack match, hosted by Master of Ceremonies Snoop Dogg. Snoop gets a shameless plug for his reality show, as he comes out struttin’ his stuff with the help of the divas. He’s driving a Mercedes Golf Cart with leopard interior and rims on the outside. He leads a trail of divas to the ring. I guess this is the only way to make people feel better about the retirement of Flair: gratuitous boobage. The consensus in the room is that Snoop is already stoned out of his mind. He gives a shout out to Flair with two Woo’s, then goes straight into the fa shizzle dizzle nizzle.
Coming out first are Ashley and Maria. The two have each been on the cover of Playboy twice, with Maria gracing the current cover. They immediately start grinding on Snoop, who just laughs.
Next out are Melina and the WWE Women’s Champion, the Glamazon, Beth Phoenix. The two are escorted by Santino Marella, the self proclaimed Italian Stallion. Santino and Maria have had tiffs leading up to tonight. Snoop is sitting in a giant throne on the outside, throwing up the West Coast sign. It’s mentioned that Shawn Michaels once posed for Playgirl, but it didn’t count because “he didn’t show his noonoo.”
We start with Ashley and Beth. Beth is convincingly mannish looking, as Melina gets tossed out of the ring and instantly surrounded by lumberjacks. She’s thrown back in, and it’s ten seconds before Melina gets a Bronco Buster from Maria.
Ashley is tagged in and pulls off a nice hurracanrana. Ashley gives Melina a nasty facebuster, but Melina takes charge and throws Ashley out. She is then tortured by the lumberjacks, who toss her back in. Melina throws Ashley into a Beth Phoenix bear hug. Melina is tagged back in, goes to the top of Beth Phoenix’s shoulders, then promptly backflipped onto Ashley.
Tags to Beth and Maria. The lights just went out, and no one knows what just happened. Spotlights are shown on the ring, as Beth and Maria continue to duke it out. Maria counters an arm stretch into a bulldog. Melina tries to hold Maria, but Beth inadvertently spears Melina off the top rope. Maria tries to pin Beth, but Santino pulls her off. Jerry “The King” Lawler walks over and right hands Santino, but Maria walks into a Fisherman’s Suplex from Beth Phoenix, who pins her for the win.
After the match, Santino gloats in the ring, but Snoop Dogg walks in and clotheslines the hell out of Santino, before making out openly with Maria. Solid match, gratuitous eye candy, and Snoop. What more could you ask for?
Randy Orton (C) VS John Cena VS Triple H for the World Heavyweight ChampionshipNeal Hebert back, ready to blog.
Next up is John Cena v. Triple H v. Randy Orton (c)
This is a Triple Threat Match, where the first man to score a pinfall or submission wins the title.
John Cena just made his entrance: it was full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Cena is beloved by women and children, and is this generation’s Hulk Hogan.
Naturally, I despise him. I am old enough to remember Hulk Hogan, and I didn’t like him either.
Triple H is entering right now, and he looks like nothing so much as a real life Conan the Barbarian. This guy is ripped, and the lights make him look like his body is smeared in Preparation H. Daddy, Triple H is bad and we know it.
I mean, the guy was in Blade: Trinity for God’s sake.
Aside: my cats are really freaked out with so many people in my apartment.
The announcers just announced that this match is one fall to a positive finish – no pinfalls or submissions. Strangely enough, they remain silent on the fact that Triple H’s tiny pants are emblazoned with an Iron Cross.
And the champion Randy Orton is coming out. He looks like nothing so much as a fraternity boy with a penchant for slipping roofies to the ladies of Reggie’s.
I’m comfortable enough with my sexuality to note Randy Orton is a good looking man. Seriously.
One quick note before the action starts: John Cena is sporting blue jean shorts instead of tights. Caitlyn Scott hates them as much as I do. As another aside: Triple H and I have identical beards. This was not intentional.
The bell rings and we’re in the middle of the action. Orton starts by smashing Triple H in the face with his belt – there are no disqualifications, folks! They’re brawling on the outside, but alas it doesn’t last.
Skylar: “There’s irony in a bunch of guys kicking each other in the balls.”
Orton has taken control, and is throwing more knee drops than Harley Race in 1976. But all good things must come to the end, and they segue into a really contrived spot where they’re all in the same turnbuckle fighting on each others’ shoulders. Then they trade hard clotheslines, and make up for it.
Deep thought: If these guys start bleeding, would it show up on their heavily tanned bodies? I mean, they’re more orange than a pumpkin.
Orton has now taken control and is waiting for his moment to strike – but is countered by Cena. Cena takes it to the outside, but Orton counters and rams Cena’s head into a ring post.
Ouch.
But in the interim, Triple H has recovered and punishes Orton’s knee. That’s why they call Triple H “The Cerebral Assassin” – and by “they” I mean the WWE marketing and T-shirt department.
Stuff’s been happening too fast to type, but the result is John Cena has mounted the bare back of Randy Orton and wrapped his meaty biceps around Orton’s supple neck – and is squeezing for all he’s worth. But Triple H gets upset and makes them stop.
They’re flipping around, and Cena returns to Orton’s bare back. And Triple H again takes issue, but rather than breaking them up places Cena’s hand between his thighs and locks on the Crippler Crossface – a move used by former WWE Champion and family annihilator Chris Benoit. The room kind of gets quiet.
See, Benoit was my favorite wrestler for about ten years – same with Skylar. And when we heard he died, we watched the Monday Night Raw Tribute show and cried. Then we found out he killed his family, and this is the first night since then that I’ve watched wrestling and had fun. So this was kind of an unfortunate thing – one move kind of dissociated me from the experience and make me think about some stuff that, frankly sucks.
But they’ve moved past it in the ring, so I will too.
Triple H hits Cena with his finisher The Pedigree, but Orton runs in and soccer kicks Triple H’s head while Triple H was pinning Cena. Orton slid in and got a quick three count on Cena – who was already knocked out by Triple H.
Totally dick move from the bad guy champion, so I kind of dug it. It deflated the crowd a bit, though – no one expected Orton to win this match.
Floyd Mayweather VS Big ShowCaitlin Scott
Here we are with the classic David and Goliath story. In one corner we have Floyd Mayweather weighing in at not very much at all. Then we have Big Show weighing in at a bunch. Either Mayweather is going to get seriously hurt, or we are going to have a true underdog story. It’s like a rat terrier versus a pitt bull. But rat terriers can be mean.
They are calling Mayweather the greatest fighter in the world. I’m not so sure I agree with that one.
Big Show weighs 441 lbs. That’s big.
Now Floyd “Money” Mayweather is coming out while money falls from the sky. He’s actually making it rain. I wonder if he does that at strip clubs. He’s wearing a fur shirt and fur shorts and necklace that spells the word filthy as “philthy.” I feel like he might shoot me in a dark alley. He only weighs 159 lbs but his entourage is considerably larger.
I hate it when people spell things with a ph. It makes me angry, and you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.
The philthy necklace has come off and the bell rings. Mayweather darts under Big Show’s first attempt. He might just run circles around Big Show until he gets dizzy and falls down. This kind of resembles a large grizzly bear trying to catch a rabbit. Mayweather has gotten some hits in, which is more than we can say for Big Show. Mayweather is now drinking from a blinged out chalice. Big Show just beat one of Mayweather’s posse.
Uh oh. Big Show has Mayweather but not for long. Now Big Show has him by the throat but Mayweather is quick to jump on his back and choke him. Big Show should just fall backward on him. This reminds of the scene in “The Princess Bride” where Westley jumps on Andre the Giant’s back and chokes him into submission. I wonder if Mayweather watched that film for inspiration.
Big Show steps on Mayweather’s arm. I wonder if he broke it and how much that arm is worth. Now Big Show is standing on Mayweather’s back as Mayweather screams in horror and pain that I cannot even imagine. His posse yells “You can’t be standing on him.” Apparently he can. And a sidewalk slam by Big Show.
Big Show stands on Mayweather again. I wonder how much longer this can go on.
The posse attempts to take Mayweather from the ring but Big Show is in pursuit. He’s throws members of the entourage by the wayside and drags Mayweather back. He looks like an abusive father with a naughty five year old. Mayweather’s entourage has tried sacrificing themselves for Floyd, but to no avail. They are not pro wrestlers. They will fall.
Mayweather has found himself a chair and beats Big Show with it.
Mayweather got himself some brass knuckles. This is shaping up to be bloody. I hope there’s blood. Big Show climbs for the ropes and Mayweather is declared the winner. David beat Goliath once again, and this time he didn’t even need a slingshot – just brass knuckles and a folding chair.
Undertaker VS EdgeSkylar Gremillion here. Attendance in Orlando is officially listed as 74,635, that’s a whole lot of folks.
Up next we’ve got The Undertaker defending his Wrestlemania streak against Edge. As it stands now the Undertaker holds the longest Wrestlemania win streak of 15-0. Edge, the Rated R Superstar looks to end that streak.
A video package details the storied history of the rivalry. There’s an ongoing bet amongst the attendees as to how long Taker’s entrance will take. We’re hoping for a hearse and druids.
We’ve got chanting and fire. No druids, lots and lots of fire though. Undertaker is wearing what can only be described as a leather studded dress. Professional wrestling is the only place where a man can walk out from a gaping hole of hellfire while wearing bondage gear and be cheered by thousands.
The entrance took around 4 minutes 20 seconds, short by Undertaker standards.
Edge makes his way down to the ring to the soothing sounds of some awful Nu-Metal band.
I must admit, I’m not looking forward to this match. Taker is looking a little long in the tooth and I’ve never been a big fan of Edge.
Edge and Taker trade shots early on, Edge bails to the outside but taker follows him out. Back in the ring Taker fires away on edge with some stiff body-shots.
Old School top rope walk by taker, Edge counters but Taker counters the counter with some sort of lucha arm drag thingie. Taker goes for a knee press in the corner, Edge dodges and Taker sails to the outside.
Edge works over Taker’s back. This is lackluster so far.
Edge with a neckbreaker, sending Taker back to the outside. You know, I love wrestling and all, but I think I may be nearing my saturation point. I’m not feeling this at all.
Edge nails a spear in the corner and follows it up with a series of punches. Edge goes up top and takes a hard bump to the outside. That had to hurt.
Taker dives over the top rope to the outside, you gotta hand it to the guy. He’s nearly 50 and keeps taking huge bumps like that.
TAG!
Freeman is back in!
Taker holds Edge, stomps to the stomach, and sets up for the Last Ride. His back didn’t give way, and Edge counters with a kick to the head and pin for a two count.
Now to the outside, as Edge backdrops Taker on top of the barricade, careening Taker into the crowd. Taker gets up and is rolled back in by Edge, who covers Taker for another two count. Now Edge works the submission, grabbing Taker’s leg in a twist. Taker reverses into a cradle, but Edge kicks out. Edge goes back on the leg, as the Ultimate Opportunist continues to apply the pressure. Taker gets back up, and counters Edge’s chop with a right hand. They exchange right hands, inspiring Yays and Boos from the crowd. Taker Irish Whips Edge into the corner and crushes twice for a splash. Taker hits Snake eyes, dropping Edge’s face on the top turnbuckle, but Edge counters with a missile drop kick.
Taker reaches for the chokeslam, but counters into a great DDT! Cover…two count. Amazing kick out.
Edge goes for the spear, but Taker reverses and hits the chokeslam. Cover…two count! Once again, amazing.
Taker grabs Edge’s arm and tries to go to the top rope for Old School, but Edge counters again, sending Taker’s groin straight onto the rope. Edge takes Taker’s head to the top, and sets up for the superplex. He hits it.
Skylar informs us that Neal, Caitlyn and I are tied for Wrestlemania picks. It all comes down to this match, as Caitlyn and I both picked Taker, while Neal picked Edge. Come on Taker!
Taker tries to set up Edge into the Last Ride, but Edge reverses into a sweet neck breaker. Taker gets back up and Last Rides Edge. But Edge kicks out!
Taker with the thumb across the throat, signaling it’s time for the Tombstone Piledriver. Edge counters again. He’s a countering machine! Edge covers, but only a two count again. This main event is living up to the hype.
Taker boots Edge in the face, and picks him back up, twists the arm, and goes to the top rope for Old School, but this time it connects. Taker runs to kick Edge in the face, but hits the ref. It’s about to get good.
Edge drops Taker with a DDT, and screams at him like a petulant child. Taker chokes him, but Edge kicks him in the balls without the ref watching it. Edge now goes outside and gets a video camera. He brings it back in and nails Taker in the head. The ref is still out, but Jimmy Corderas fell off the apron.
The Deadman sits up.
Edge mock chokes, and Edge tries to go for the Tombstone Piledriver, but Taker reverses into his own Tombstone. He covers Edge, but there’s still no ref. A blonde ref runs his ass off from the back into the ring to make the count, but Edge kicks out.
Edge’s two cronies run from the back, but Taker disposes of them quickly, then turns around into a spear from Edge. Taker kicks out, and Edge sets Taker up for another spear, and he hits it, but doesn’t go for the cover. Taker catches Edge in the triangle choke, the submission move that has made so many in the past bleed.
After an initial struggle, Edge taps out!
Undertaker is the new champion. He goes to 16-0 at Wrestlemania, and, most importantly, Neal is defeated. Caitlyn and I will split custody of the grand prize of our pool, Wrestlemaniac, an action thriller starring Rey Mysterio. Insane pyro goes off, as Taker cradles his new championship under a banner of fireworks. Thank you for tuning in to our blog, as we are treated to a post-Wrestlemania montage, easily the best part of Wrestlemania. Reveille Opinion Section out!
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Saturday, March 29, 2008
2008 Baltimore Orioles Team Preview
2008 Baltimore Orioles
Doomed from the Get-Go
BaseballEvolution.com 2008 Spring Preview
“Bah-mer.”
The above word is the nickname of the city of Baltimore, but it might as well be a nickname for “bummer,” as the Orioles have resembled the stinkiest of the stinky when it comes to baseball. I’ve only lived in one baseball town in my life (as New Orleans only afforded me with the Zephyrs – giving me the chance to scout one Lance Berkman back when he was a nobody). Living in Baltimore provided me with a unique perspective, especially as a waiter on the Inner Harbor. As a server, by virtue of actual Baltimoreans being lousy tippers, I always rooted for the opposing team to win, giving way for the out-of-towners to come in, get drunk and tip me big, as long as I professed my love for their team. More often than not, opposing teams wouldn’t let me down, and odds are favorable for repetition again this season.
I can’t really knock Hernandez. His performance has been relatively stable over the last five years, if not for a trip to the 15-day DL with a bruised groin, courtesy of a foul tip off Seattle’s Ben Broussard. He turns 32 in May, and chances are Hernandez will make it through the entire season, but his days are numbered.
Minor Note: Keep an eye out for Matt Wieters, as this Georgia Tech alum is being hailed by Scout.com as the best catching prospect in all of baseball. His obvious downside is his representation, super-hawk Scott Boras, but Wieters, as a 6’5” switch-hitting catcher is perfectly capable of hitting .300 with 30 homers and a lot of walks. I’m just saying. Keep a look out.
Continue reading at BaseballEvolution.com...
2008 Florida Marlins Team Preview
2008 Florida Marlins
Whooaaaa-OOAAAA! Swimming on a Prayer!
BaseballEvolution.com 2008 Spring Preview
Miami is reeling. I know, that just happened.
The Marlins have suffered two devastating losses with the departures of Dontrelle Willis and Miguel Cabrera. The Fish are in retooling mode, but promising young prospects will make the transition easier. After all, the Marlins finished last season with a 71-91 record, good for last place in the NL East. There’s no place to go but up, right?
In the past two seasons:
Olivo: $2.7 million. 23/226 BB/K.
Enough said.
Jacobs has proven to be a solid first baseman in his last two seasons for the Fish. He strikes out a little too much, but for the Marlins, he’ll do. Look for the neighborhood of 20 homers, 70 RBI, and his usual .265 batting average.
Continue reading at BaseballEvolution.com...
Thursday, March 27, 2008
2008 Chicago Cubs Team Preview
2008 Chicago Cubs
Make or Break: A Century Later
BaseballEvolution.com 2008 Spring Preview
Mere days from now, one of the scariest seasons anticipated to date will commence. To address the giant 800-pound pink elephant in the room for a second – the Cubs have not won a World Series since 1908. Ooh, shocking, look at the symmetry. 100 years. You done yet?
Other things happened in 1908. According to legend out of the nation’s capital, the seventh-inning stretch was invented when the Club of 43’s fattest member – one William Howard Taft – stood up to stretch during the seventh inning. While probably apocryphal, the crowd allegedly noticed this behavior and replicated it out of respect for the president. Whether or not this is true is irrelevant, as it has nothing to do with the 2008 Chicago Cubs, anyway. My point is that hedging one’s bet on the Cubs merely because disaster awaits anything less than a World Series ring this year is a silly move, but you might get lucky in doing so, anyway.
Last year, I had the gall to say Michael Barrett was “a dependable bat with a good arm.” After his trade to the San Diego Padres – becoming the backup for Josh Bard following a solid half-season taken by injuries – he left the catcher position open for longtime benchwarmer Henry Blanco, and the job seemed his for the taking.
Enter Geovany Soto.
This stud – as Asher claimed he would be in our fantasy baseball draft – lit up American Military Academy High School in Puerto Rico and stretched that success to an 11th round draft pick by the North Siders in 2001. Soto made it to the Cubs’ Triple-A affiliate in Iowa by 2005. Last season, in 100 games before being called up, Soto earned his trip to the show with 26 homers, 109 RBI and an OPS of 1.076 in 110 at-bats. If he can show the same production for his first full season after 30 major league games under his belt, he will become another shining exception that proves the rule against drafting high schoolers, and a welcome exception he would be.
Continue reading at BaseballEvolution.com...
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
An underage Super Bowl, Mardi Gras aneurysm
This past Mardi Gras was my 21st straight birthday party. I haven't missed Fat Tuesday since I was born in 1987, a week before Mardi Gras Day.
I won't turn 21, however, until this coming Sunday.
Curse the gods above for giving me Carnival 12 days before I can drink legally, as I knew this dilemma would later slap me in the face.
It happened once over the break, this past Saturday, when I joined some friends at a bar in Metairie called Oscar's. My two sorority acquaintances informed me that they were asking for IDs, but I wasn't worried. When a random guy in a Jesuit hoodie came over to check our IDs, I gave him mine while looking calm and collected.
He looks at my ID, then right back at me as he informs me, "Today's not the 17th."
I looked shocked as I replied faux sincerely, "Oh really, is it not?"
In my head I'm channeling Bill Engvall, saying, "I am 21 already. I just came back in a time machine from three weeks ago so I could have a beer during Mardi Gras. Here's your sign."
Regardless, I was thrown out of Oscar's.
The aforementioned acquaintances decide to rendez-vous with me and my buddies at The Harbor, a bit closer to the lake but still remarkably Metairie. If you wonder about my placement of the word "remarkably," ask someone who grew up in Uptown New Orleans just what it's like to spend Mardi Gras in Metairie.
There are no "Gretas" in Uptown.
Our Greta, a 40-something-year-old soccer mom already drunk off Miller Lite, decided that we, the college crowd, were the perfect type of people to which lap dances should be given.
She started with my buddy "James," recovering from his own questionable pre-Mardi Gras hookup. She then moved to the ground, relatively quickly. After a tug-of-war in which she's cursing at James while trying to steal the beer bucket, she leaves, cursing out anything that so much as looked at her funny. With my story from Saturday night intact, we depart from the Harbor to rest before Big Sunday.
For me, it was Disaster Sunday.
No person will ever stop me from catching something thrown off a float.
If I want it, it shall be mine.
However, on Tchoupitoulas Street at the beginning of the Krewe of Thoth, when a little football was thrown, I jumped to catch it. When I came down, I bobbled it, moved to catch it again and crashed, right leg first, into the steel beam connecting the float to the tractor.
I flipped over and down to the ground, where half the crowd met my acrobatics with horror, while the other half - appropriately - pointed and laughed. I made it back to my other seat, after breaking the first one with 290 pounds of me, and was bombarded with inquiries of "Are you alright?" mixed with "That was the funniest f#$%ing thing i've ever f#$%ing seen!"
I still came down with the football.
A long-time friend of mine, "Phil," threw a plastic baggie off the float with eight Tylenol - I consumed four. I'm a big dude with some big pain. As no Vicodin was made readily available, four Tylenol circulated my blood stream, driving to devour my dismay like Ms. Pac-Man when all the enemies turn blue and run about screaming.
Needless to say, I was in no condition to walk back and forth in hopes of catching a miscellaneous bead thrown by Hulk Hogan. I rode back to Metairie with James' parents and little brother, with resting and watching the Super Bowl as my only priorities.
Anyone who saw the Super Bowl and knows that I went to the same high school as the past two Super Bowl MVPs knows I enjoyed the game thoroughly. Soon after Giants wide receiver David Tyree's helmet catch but before the game-winning touchdown in the fourth quarter, James' little brother comes up to me and asks, "Is it bad if I eat a peanut if there's already a hole in it?"
A year ago, if someone told me I'd be watching the Super Bowl in a random family's house in Metairie, nursing a bum leg and not going to Bacchus while being pestered about the inner workings of a peanut, I'd have called shenanigans.
It made even less sense two days later when, instead of second-lining with my drum and 20 of my closest friends behind the krewes of Zulu and Rex, I watched election returns on the rest of the country's Fat - or Super - Tuesday. As Barack Obama won more states and grabbed the momentum of the election, I relaxed and hoped my leg would heal quickly. Come find me, and I'll show you the wound.
And, of course, I'll tell the rest of the story.
Originally published in The Daily Reveille...
Labels: Drinking, Football, Holidays, New Orleans, Sports
Monday, October 8, 2007
No question about it: LSU is No. 1 team in the country
Kirk Herbstreit left ESPN College GameDay to broadcast another game across the country. He picked Florida.
He also picked USC, just like the rest of the country. Just after a 4-yard touchdown run by Keiland Williams with 7:49 left in the third quarter, the legendary Tiger Stadium public address announcer Dan Borne informed all 92,910 emotionally charged fans that Stanford defeated the once No. 1-ranked Trojans. Never have I been in a football stadium when the entire attitude of the game was completely reversed because of the celebration in the stands inspired by another team's defeat.
Make no question about it: LSU is the No. 1 team in the country.
Continue reading at The Daily Reveille...
Thursday, July 26, 2007
When the Record Falls...
...Eric believes that nothing will tarnish the new home run record.
755. It’s the most powerful number in all of sports. Not 100, not 63, not 99, not 2,632. Sports starts and ends with the number 755.
This number soon will cease to have any meaning. One man (at the time of this writing, sitting at 753) will have the pleasure of rendering what was the most famous number in sports, at least for the last 33 years, completely obsolete. Now, it could be argued that Barry Lamar Bonds, the future “black sheep” of baseball history, doesn’t merit the title of baseball’s Home Run King, as allegations of steroid use haunt him to this day. And whether or not he actually used performance-enhancing drugs to boost his soon-to-be record-breaking numbers may remain a mystery, locked in the vault of unknown history forever.
When Bonds breaks the record and becomes the all-time home run king, he will be loved by some, hated and persecuted by many, and threatened by many more. But he will have earned the most hallowed record in sports, and until evidence to the contrary arises, no asterisk, blemish, or blip should be put next to his name. After 21 years of constantly fighting off adversity, negativity, and even death threats, Bonds has rightfully earned his place in history as one of the five greatest players to ever knock the dirt off their cleats.
Continue reading at Baseball Evolution...
Monday, July 9, 2007
State of the Ivy Address - All-Star Break, 2007
Eric uses the All-Star Break to give a status report on his favorite team.
On Sunday afternoon, the Cubs ended the first half of the season the way they started it: in an inferior opponent’s ballpark, with their ace on the hill, losing by five runs. Carlos Zambrano was out-dueled in the season opener in Cincinnati by Aaron Harang, while LSU graduate Shane Youman, in his second start after replacing DL-bound Zach Duke, pitched impressively to earn his second straight win for the Pittsburgh Pirates. The Cubs, other than NL All-Stars Alfonso Soriano and Derrek Lee, will get three days of well-earned rest after winning 12 of their final 16 games to pull within 4.5 games of the NL Central-leading Milwaukee Brewers. There are 75 games left for the North Siders, and with the All-Star Break in full swing in San Francisco, now is a good time to take stock of this roller-coaster first half of a season, and predict what the future holds.
Continue reading at Baseball Evolution...
Monday, April 2, 2007
Opening Day Diary
A hilarious romp through the first real games in over five months, viewed through the eyeglasses of a Cubs fan, of course.
Well, it’s finally here. I’ve had to suffer through the NCAA Tournament, crappy NBA action, and hours upon hours of Mel Kiper Jr. earning his paycheck in between the Super Bowl and the NFL Draft. But baseball season is finally here, and to celebrate, I will be composing a running diary of all of the events of the first day, focusing on the Chicago Cubs-Cincinnati Reds contest. IT’S FINALLY HERE!!!
1:07pm CST: I wake up, remembering that the Cubs game starts soon, and I don’t miss it. The TV comes on, the Apple Jacks are poured, the coffee is made, and it’s time for baseball.
1:13pm: The debate all Cub fans know well: whether to watch the game on WGN or ESPN2. As the mayor of Cincinnati throws the first pitch wide to the left, I notice that the ESPN2 feed is about a second and a half slower. WGN it is.
1:21pm: Damn my infernal smoking habit. I run back inside to miss Alfonso Soriano’s and Matt Murton’s at bats. Derrek Lee is awarded first base on a walk because Aaron Harang walks off of the mound. Hey, good start. Then Lee tries to steal second. Essentially a 1-2-3 inning.
Continue reading at Baseball Evolution...
Sunday, April 1, 2007
2007 Chicago Cubs Team Preview
Eric vows not to make the same mistake twice in this year's Cub forecast. 2006 Record: 66-96 (Last in NL Central)
2006 Runs Scored: 716
2006 Runs Allowed: 834
Pythagorean 2006 Record: 70-92
What a difference one year can make. One year ago, I expressed my hope that the Cubs would contend for the wild-card spot, if not the division title. One year ago, I was expressing my extreme discontent for the selection of 2005 NL MVP Albert Pujols over the actual Most Valuable Player, Derrek Lee. One year ago, I learned precisely what a “faux-pas” was as I boldly proclaimed that Jeromy Burnitz was “the biggest disappointment in Cub history,” much to the chagrin of the BaseballEvolution.com staff. And one year ago, I was a 19-year-old living in Baltimore and weighed about 360 pounds. Now a spry, 20-year-old, 282-pound sophomore in a swanky apartment on the campus of LSU, I make my return to BaseballEvolution.com with the 2007 Chicago Cubs Preview.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Grim Memories of a Consistent Disappointment
To Eric, Brad Radke personifies his fantasy baseball failures.
2001 was my first season of fantasy baseball. I was swept into a world where it didn’t matter whether or not the Cubs won that day, as long as Ricky Gutierrez got me some fantasy points. Division standings and wild-card races took second place to my unquenchable thirst for fantasy points. Needless to say, I sucked (and the entire Baseball Evolution staff will tell you that I still suck) at fantasy baseball, constantly trading for “promising” players, only to be racked by injuries, suspensions, and Tim Wakefield. But there was some satisfaction to be had from the experience, and his name was Brad William Radke.
Four years removed from what would be his only 20-win season in 1997, Brad Radke appeared to me at the top of the free agent standings, and he looked good. Sure, after his only good year, he amassed three straight 12 win seasons, and his career ERA hovered around the 4 mark. Anyone else with common sense would have stayed away. They would have seen the tendency for mediocrity, and would have not clicked on “Add to Team.” But I only saw a 28-year-old pitcher on a solid team that would eventually get it together and start challenging for the division. Ah, to be 14 years old, pining after a relatively solid pitcher on a team I couldn’t care any less about.
I hate you, Brad William Radke.
Continue reading at Baseball Evolution... Read more...Thursday, April 6, 2006
Serious Bonds Reflection
Eric gets in on the Barry Bonds Royal Rumble.
It’s about time I started writing about something other than why I love Mark Prior, or the fact that Jeromy Burnitz is the “biggest disappointment in Cub history.” (By the way, Asher, I’m honored that, had I been a professional sports writer, you would have considered me for the Bonehead Sportswriter of the Year Award. Thank you for the recognition.) But the biggest issue in baseball today is, as it has been since 2003, Barry Bonds.
Barry Bonds is one of the top five baseball players of all time.
Read more...
Monday, March 27, 2006
2006 Team Preview: Chicago Cubs
Cubs fanatic Eric Freeman Jr. analyzes the Northsiders with relish.
2005 Record: 79-83 (4th Place NL Central)
2005 Runs Scored: 703
2005 Runs Allowed: 714
Pythagorean 2005 Record: 80-82
Scott lives in Chicago, Keith lives in Chicago, Asher loves Chicago, and my dad was from Chicago. But my AIM screen name is cubbiesfan217, so I get to write this preview. Rest assured, my extreme (and at times fanatic) loyalty to the Cubs will not get in the way of this preview, although I’m starting to buy into Sportscenter’s week-long expose of the possibility of ending 98 years of heartbreak and sadness. (If I was the host of some late night talk show, I would pray that the Cubs held their “ending of the curse” to 2008, thus spawning a plethora of “The Cubs only win every century. Cubs in 2108!!!” jokes. Enough of my milking this article for everything it’s worth.
Continue reading at Baseball Evolution...Read more...
Friday, January 20, 2006
Who Am I?
Eric Freeman makes his BaseballEvolution debut.
Who am I?
I am an 18-year-old 6’3”, 285 pound behemoth of an Aquarius with the appetite of ten men and the strength of 200. I am an active member of the Department of Redundancy Department, and am a barbershop quartet enthusiast. Typing never bothers me, but Stephen A. Smith, Joe Morgan, and the designated hitter rule get on my nerves. In my world, Jimi Hendrix and Peter Gammons are golden gods, but nothing beats walking into Wrigley Field at sunset.
I’m from New Orleans, but have since moved to Baltimore, and I do not care either way about the Orioles. I worship the Chicago Cubs and the Boston Red Sox, along with Crash Davis’s speech in Bull Durham about that in which he believes. (Ending sentences with a preposition isn’t a fatal mistake to me, but if I wanted to pursue a career in sports writing, I should start writing correctly.) I never cared too much for George Will, but Bill James is saint-like, and the New Orleans Saints are better off without the likes of Aaron Brooks (gone), Jim Haslett (gone), and Tom Benson (hopefully he’ll get a stroke).
I’m also Asher’s 'little' brother.
But you’re probably wondering, “What in the world does he have to say?” Well, I’m glad you wondered.
Many things in the past have bugged me about baseball, and I’m just here to give my two cents in the form of a grammatically correct rant. And here we go:
Continue reading at Baseball Evolution...
