March Madness, You're Beautiful Just the Way You Are

Jim Boeheim, Villain

Slow news days. Days when “Pardon the Interruption” is lined with stories about Pete Rose’s girlfriend and women’s basketball. Days when Denard Span makes headlines for picking off his mother with a foul ball similar to Mark Wahlberg in “Shooter.” Days when the worldwide leader remembers that they’re covering the World Cup in two months, so they throw up a story about Wayne Rooney being out for two weeks with a sprained ankle allowing Tony Kornheiser to make a “bahaha, I don’t even know what soccer is” joke.

Days like today, this remarkably unremarkable Wednesday, March 31, are filler days. Days when ongoing debates get stretched thinner than an Olsen twin.  College football SO needs a playoff.  Baseball would be SO much better with a salary cap. I REALLY wouldn’t draft that Tim Tebow in the first two rounds. Blah freaking blah freaking blah.

Can we please just get the Final Four, Opening Day and the Masters, here already?

Not until Saturday? Okay, that’s what I thought. Well, in the meantime, I’ll see how thin I can stretch a debate of my own.

Dear NCAA, please don’t screw up one of the few things that you do right. Promotion of the concept is more prominent and popular than ever. It is starting to become a certainty that the NCAA will soon expand the NCAA Basketball Tournament field from 64 teams to 96 teams.

Now before I begin, allow me to clarify what kind of Web site this is. Contrary to the popular belief that Sports Casualties only covers episodes of “Jersey Shore” and “Lost,” we are actually a sports blog. It’s just that people only tend to read SC when we write our rambling thoughts on those two shows.  That may have been what had you confused. Regardless, SC is no financial site, so the following rant is not at all based on the monetary issues that will soon make the tournament the basketball version of a battle royal.  Instead, the following is based on the overall quality of the Tournament, bracket gambling and my overwhelming hatred for whining bubble teams.

March Madness is one of the only perfect events in sports.  It is one of the few events that transcends from the die-hard fan to the casual fan to the person who doesn’t give a damn about basketball unless it’s March.  It combines a myriad of games into a manageable cluster, and CBS has officially mastered the art of broadcasting its system.

The Masters: Another perfect sporting event. Eight more days, eight more days.

The argument that the field needs to be expanded because worthy teams are being left out is ridiculous. Yes, I’m looking at you, Jim Boeheim.  Boeheim, one of the original proponents of expanding the Tournament, believes that expansion is more necessary now than ever.

“Connecticut was out of the Tournament, and they still may be out, but they’re a team that can win games in the Tournament,” Boeheim said. “That’s why we need an expansion.”

Those comments were made to the USA Today in February.

It’s college basketball. It is one of the sports in which major teams are most wide open for upsets. If that’s your judgment for how many teams there should be in the field, then we’re nearing a day of a 300-team tournament. Tournament selection isn’t about finding teams that “can win games,” it’s about finding teams that can win a national championship and including smaller teams that are able to qualify through conference tournaments. Elite teams should be featured in March, not teams that might be good.

For some reason, there is a belief that adding 31 teams will eliminate the “that team got snubbed” factor that makes at least one coach at a major program pout every year. News break, unless you somehow create a tournament that includes all 347 teams, there are going to be a few teams on the border that believe they should be playing on CBS. I can see Seth Greenberg going on Sportscenter and complaining that the selection committee failed to pick the best 96 teams in the country.

Bubble teams are always everyone’s favorite argument around the time of Selection Sunday. My question is when is the last time that you saw a bubble team get in the Tournament and make an impact? Better yet, how many times have you seen a bubble team not make the big boy bracket and then head off to the NIT for a first round home court loss to Manhattanville College?

My Bulls: An unfortunate first round NIT casualty.

Are bubble teams often better than the small conference champions that take “their spots” in the Tournament? Probably. However, every team enters the season knowing that they have to be great if they don’t want to have questionable hopes at the beginning of March.

Also, it is an undeniable fact that the major reason why the NCAA Tournament is so popular is bracket gambling. Almost everyone fills out a bracket the day after Selection Sunday, immediately garnering some strange feeling that they know what they are talking about. The only regular season college basketball games that I watched in their entirety this season were the two that I attended. But give me a pen and the back of a Tampa Tribune on Monday morning and I know more about the product than any ESPN bracketologist that you can name.

Ha! I scoff at Digger Phelps.

Brackets are a huge part of the Tournament. They are the only reason why many people watch. The current number of games is already a borderline excessive amount of predicting to do. Interest will surely drop off when 31 teams are added that the general public knows little about. Tinkering with this perfect gambling formula could damage the major appeal that March Madness carries.

It’s baffling to watch the last two weeks of competition and think that out of all the postseasons in sports, this is the one that needs to be changed. This has been one of the most entertaining NCAA Tournaments ever. It has shown the country that the current Tournament field is perfect and exposed the fact that any changes will be solely made in the name of money, not quality college basketball.

I can’t wait to see No. 96 raise hell in March. Make it rain, NCAA.

In the words of Robbie Hilson, and to a lesser extent, Akon: Dolla’ dolla’ bills y’all!

-Bryan

"Lost": Season 6, Episode 10 Recap

My mom will not be happy about this. Little Jimmy will.

Time moves slower on Tuesdays. It’s 9 o’clock. Guess who wants to talk about “Lost.”

Before we get started, I have a couple things to update you on. For all of you who did not have me in your thoughts and prayers last night as I was battling death – aka either a spider bite or bad aspirin – 1) for shame! and 2) let’s just say I woke up looking like an American Gladiator, hung like Greg Oden and shooting web from my wrists… Alright, so the Oden part is a lie, but the rest is 100 percent true. I also want to tell you that if you happen to be a journalism grad student at the University of Florida, don’t expect the school to offer any actual journalism classes during the upcoming fall semester. This would be both logical and practical. You’re in Gator Nation, people – we don’t do logical or practical. So to Bryan Holt, who’s holed up working on some paper that has zero chance of helping him get a job, Ben and Alan who are killing themselves at stats for nothing, my entire Research Methods class, and, uh, me: this “Lost” post is for you. My Spidey senses are heightened. Let’s do this.

__________

We got a Sun and Jin episode in the works. All I can say about this is, HOLLA, HOT ASIAN GIRLS IN LIBRARY WEST! The first scene is brought to you in part by epilepsy inducing night vision goggles, so I could be concussed for the rest of the review. I also might be drinking. Proceed with caution.

So we’re on the island post-crash and the big elephant in the room is still which Kwon’s name is written on Jacob’s cave dwelling. Instead of just telling us straight out, the writers – per usual – make us jump through hoops, or in this case, a flashback to the “crash never happened timeline.” The Kwons check into a hotel room in this universe. But that’s neither here nor there, because back on the island, the night-visioned people are going to town on Sawyer, Jin and crew with poisonous darts. I’d usually finish this paragraph with my trademark dry humor and wit, but a Victoria’s Secret “Naked” commercial is currently on my screen… Priorities.

Who said supermodels don't watch intelligent TV dramas?

Of note, the night-visioned “others” stole Jin – the Kwon, not the Bombay Sapphire. Back from commercial, we’re treated to a powwow between Ben, Ilana, Jack and a pissed-off Sun. Jack tells Sun about destiny and the lighthouse and whatnot, but she’s having none of it. ”I just want you to go away and leave me alone.” Uh, yeah, that was Sun, not the girls at The Top on Saturday. Back in the no-crash timeline where Jin is a total prude – he checked into two separate hotel rooms – we learn that Sun is totally hot, and kind of a whore. She starts stripping for Jin a la Pants on the Ground. 

Back on the island, Smoke Monster Locke uses the lyrics to a Zwan song to tempt Sun into joining his camp. He says simply, “Come with me.” She hauls ass, so I guess she’s not a huge Billy Corgan fan, which is unfortunate… because my ideal woman is Asian and loves the Smashing Pumpkins. 

Midway through the chase scene, we cut back to Jin and Sun in the hotel room looking very much like Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts during the first post-sex scene in “Notting Hill.” Not that I’ve seen it or anything. Hey! So get this. Sun has a scratch on her face from ANOTHER timeline, much like our least favorite character Jack. Also, the guys that tried to kill Sayid are knockin’ on the door. They have Papa Johns.

Back on the island, Jin’s trapped in a room that the writers apparently conceived while watching “Saw IV.” Great movie. “Where am I?” he asks. “Room 23,” says the Tina Fey lookalike that also tried to take Sawyer… So DHARMA built a room for The King? Classy move, DHARMA. Classy Move. You know what this means…

Gratuitous King.

I don’t know what Tina Fey Sans Scar’s name is, but she works for Charles Whidmore – not to be confused for Charlie Whitehurst, the former Clemson QB who was inexplicably traded to Seattle for a third round pick despite throwing a grand total of 2 career passes. On the island, Jack says to Smoke Monster Locke: “Pete Carroll is a dumbass.” 

After another long commercial break, the hitman breaks into the Kwon honeymoon suite looking for Jin and his $25,000. The hitman makes a series of racial slurs, which doesn’t seem to sit well with Jin, who’s not fond of being associated with “Godzilla.” Especially since he’s Korean. 

As if this show couldn’t get any more batsh*t insane, Sun hits her head back on the island and, wouldn’t you know, totally forgets how to speak English. I wonder if Sammy Sosa hit his head before speaking to Congress. Never mind. We got more important things to discuss: namely, a stare down/meeting of the minds between SM Locke and Whidmore in which SM Locke says, “War is comin’ to this island.” I’m pretty sure Cuban psychics were saying this in 1897. Listen to these people, Whidmore. They’re always right. 

Sneaky. Sneaky. Sneaky. That’s what Sun is, Casualtists. She once again fakes not being able to speak English (at least, that’s what I think) so that she can have a private discussion in front of everybody with the apparently-Korean-speaking Richard, aka ‘Lil Dick. Back in the no-crash universe, Jin is getting tied up in a kitchen, which means we’re seeing the scenes before Sayid breaks in and start kicking hitman ass. Also of note, both of the timelines are matching up for the first time – Jin’s locked up in both places. I don’t know if this means anything, but I’m trying to bring something to the party besides crappy jokes. Speaking of crappy jokes, Charles “Not a Comedian” Whidmore shows Jin his daughter that he’s never seen before. This is cold, holmes. Colder than Santonio Holmes throwing a wine glass at a helpless woman in a nightclub… The end game in the Whidmore storyline is that he wants to keep all of our favorite “Lost” characters, plus Kate and Jack, from falling prey to Smoke Monster Locke.

Commercial break shout-outs: Emily, Nancy, Brittany… What. Is. Happenin’? Brittany, way to rock the plaid today. ’92 Seattle would be proud.

'92 Seattle.

Commercial break over. Sayid busts in to save Jin from the Hitman. We saw this coming. Literally. Jin finds a gun, and quite graphically for a 9:56 p.m. shooting, busts a cap in the hitman’s eye. Tiny problem: Sun took one for the Kwon team – she’s bleeding everywhere… Back on the island (my go-to transition), Jack shows Sun a tomato. This is a common pick-up line in Korea. Also, Jack is officially the Charlie Rangel of “Lost” – on the winning team, but totally marginalized anyway. Did Jack cheat on his taxes, too?

Sayid “The Impaler” is using some crazy Navy Seal tactics to spy on Whidmore’s people, when he runs into the cool Australian mate from seasons past. I believe his name is Frank Lapidus. Just kidding, overly sensitive, diehard “Lost” fans. It’s totally Eddie Vedder lookalike Desmond. And Desmond – as Sayid’s facial expression can attest – is actually a reason to stick this trainwreck of a season out. See you next Wednesday, Asian fanbase.

- Robbie

The SC Sportsbook: NFL Edition

"Kiss my ass, Philly."

A really good way to cover a few “important” NFL story lines in an exceedingly half-assed manner. This was long overdue.

I had something a little more extensive in the works for tonight, but suffice it to say that between the onslaught of Research Methods write-ups and my extended surf on WebMD, I didn’t have the time or patience to do extensive investigation into the life and times of Bob Huggins (read: skim Bob Huggins’ Wikipedia page). But seriously, does anybody have a cure for “arm feels like it’s on fire”? Does this throbbing bump on my wrist mean that I’ve been sabotaged by a spider? In any event, one man’s potentially fatal allergic reaction is another man’s insight on how to place the following bets in Vegas. Let’s play oddsmaker.

__________

"Please God, get me out of here."

Donovan McNabb to the Oakland Raiders

Newsflash: Donovan McNabb is a really productive quarterback saddled with a loser fanbase and a coach who refuses to either run the ball or insert himself at right tackle. The opening sentence of today’s Adam Schefter article reads, “The Oakland Raiders have emerged as the leading candidate…” So right off the bat, you know that somebody’s career is about to end. And in this case, that person could be a 33-year-old McNabb, who’s coming off a 22-10 and 3,500-yard season. The Eagles, as delusional franchises are inclined to do, want to swap him for a top-42 pick in this year’s draft so that they can go out and win a Super Bowl with Kevin Kolb and Michael Vick. Al Davis is pinching himself that he has an opportunity to get a QB for a year that he can pair with the dynamic receiving tandem of Johnnie Lee Higgins and Darius Heward-Bey. Really, this is a perfect situation for everybody.

Pros: Playing in the Black Hole for a year would give McNabb new appreciation for warm and fuzzy Philly crowd; would free up JaMarcus Russell to fulfill destiny as Davis’ kitchen disposal; uncapped year means Raiders could swallow $11.2 million, 1-year contract; Philadelphia’s LeSean McCoy would actually get carries when Andy Reid realizes he doesn’t have a quarterback; Eagles would score the No. 39 pick in the draft

Cons: Would take miracle of God for McNabb to resign in Oakland; they don’t call it the “Black Hole” for nothing; once McNabb is gone, the Eagles will have no reason not to fire Reid when they see that their QB was always the meal ticket (really a pro, but it had a double negative); Raiders could potentially burn second round pick for one non-competitive season with McNabb; Kolb’s career 68.9 passer rating; more opportunities for Vick to be profoundly mediocre

Odds It Happens: 3 to 1

Tebow's welcoming committee.

Tim Tebow to the Buffalo Bills

It seems as though Miami Hurricanes legend and consummate runner-up Jim Kelly has been wining and dining Gainesville’s hometown hero. Or dining at least. On Sunday, Kelly’s wife Jill reported via Twitter that the QB couple ate dinner together in the Philippines while Tim circumcised poor children. That’s not true. What is true is that Kelly took him out for steak in a transparent bid to land the Heisman winner for his former team, the Bills. Scott Norwood was invited, too, but he did not make it. Jill whet the appetites of Buffalo fans everywhere when she Tweeted, “I wish I could say more. If only I were there too! LOL! It was a great night! Now before U go 2 bed – pray for our Buffalo Bills!” She added, “!!!” Buffalo has the ninth and 41st picks in the upcoming draft.

Pros: He’s theirs if the Bills want him – Jacksonville picks 10th; Kelly pulls more weight in Buffalo than a chicken wing; the once-promising Trent Edward is coming off a 7 TD season; the last sentence of Jill’s Tweet suggests that she’s a kindred spirit of Timmy’s; Tebow in Buffalo and Superman in nearby Metropolis would give duo ample time to map future; Buffalo’s loyal, white fanbase would take to No. 15 like a violent rash to my forearm

Cons: Pretty sure it’s against Biblical law to pray for sports teams; lack of arm strength and decimated offensive line don’t bode well for air game in wind-ravaged Ralph Wilson Stadium; never like to see a ‘Cane mingling with a Gator, even if it’s Tim; the last time a UM grad got this involved with a quarterback, he was breaking Troy Aikman’s leg; potential Superman jealousy issues; 9th pick feels like a reach, 41st pick might be too late; draft day maneuvering a contingent issue

Odds It Happens: 5 to 1

Heisman winner/future Nike spokesman

Sam Bradford to the St. Louis Rams

The leader in the mock draft clubhouse for No. 1 overall pick, the former Oklahoma Heisman winner made 60 throws in front of drooling scouts Monday at Sooners’ Pro Day. He didn’t wear the Dri-Fit as well as RoboTim, but then again, he didn’t drop his elbow to his waist on each pass either. Afterward he told ESPN’s Todd McShay, “”I feel like I’m a great player, I feel like I’m a great leader, and I feel like I have a lot of the categories the Rams are looking for.” The kid’s obviously not short on confidence, and at 6’4″, 236 pounds, why should he be? If you tease him, he’ll kick your ass. Still the Rams, holder of said No. 1 pick, seem to have their doubts. Yes, they’re dead set on drafting a QB even though Marc “Great Investment” Bulger is signed for $62 million through 2013. But much like a good Christian girl, Steve Spagnuolo will make Bradford wait until his April 19th Rams workout to make any final decisions. 

Pros: the guy’s a Heisman winner with arm strength who killed it on his pro day – what’s the problem?; hype over defensive tackle/manchild Ndamukong Suh has simmered enough that nobody will accuse Rams of picking Bowie over Jordan; Rams desperate to replace soon-to-be 33-year-old QB coming off 9-game, 5 TD season; Bradford’s accuracy plays well in dome; Jimmy Clausen is not happy about this 

Cons: Bradford’s coming off major shoulder surgery; shoulders are important for throwing; DTs Clifton Ryan and Darell Scott don’t exactly strike the fear of God in you; Suh is sitting right there; DE Chris Long needs major help to avoid the bust tag; Spagnuolo’s defensive background; my arm is still on fire

Odds It Happens: 1 to 3

Suck it, spider.

- Robbie

24, Presented By Jack Bauer: Celtics-Spurs

"Better to burn out than it is to rust."

What better way to celebrate the Final Four than talk pro hoops? Just a quick thought on the Tourney, though: why the hell did Bruce Pearl wait till five minutes left to start trapping? FIVE MINUTES!? No, I’m just kidding. I was in the library. I have no idea what happened. Congrats on a solid year, coach.

Alright, so you probably weren’t one of the four people that read my last “24″ post. Here’s how it works: I DVR a game on Sundays because this is typically the day I spend holed up in Library West, pounding away at a week’s worth of Research Methods homework (read: tweeting #nbaplayerlotions… Al-Faruq Aveeno, Emeka Aquafor, etc.). In light of my severe bout with procrastination, I end up cranking out recaps of NBA second halves i.e. the last 24 minutes. Lucky for you, this game started at 8 p.m. So I’m just going to knock out the whole damn thing. You should probably quit right now. I imagine this post could be a tremendous waste of your time.

Here’s the setup. The Spurs, my secret favorite team, are on the decline due to fielding half their team from a retirement home. This is a huge compliment to Richard Jefferson, who is in fact dead. As QBKILLA (aka Warren Sapp) broke the news this morning via Twitter: “Spurs almost in 8th Place!!” Warren is on it, though actually the Spurs are in seventh, and have pretty much secured a playoff spot. They’re six games out of ninth and only four out of the second seed. And need to avoid the Lakers in the first round at all costs. 

The Celtics, on the other hand, have used my bulletin board material – I eulogized the Big 3 two weeks ago – to kick their season into gear. They’ve won 7 of 10 and leapfrogged the fourth-seeded Hawks. Rasheed Wallace still has massive tits.

__________

First Quarter (From Boston)

12:00: The major perk to this game is that Hubie Brown is doing color. He’s prone to exaggeration, so I feel like we’re kindred spirits. Also, if he was a hand lotion, he would be Yu-Be Brown. Yes, I spent all day thinking of these.

11:28: It’s taken exactly 32 seconds for Richard Jefferson to pick up two fouls. He’s going to the bench. Coach Pop sends in live body Keith Bogans. 

9:00: C’s forward Kevin Garnett “looks as healthy as he’s looked all season,” according to play-by-play guy Dan Shulman. Blind guys totally agree with this. Pierce finds KG on a lob, but he doesn’t have the legs to dunk it. I’ve compared Garnett both to an 11-year-old golden retriever and Heather Mills, and as far as I can tell, he hasn’t gotten any younger in the last two weeks. 10-6, Celtics. 

This didn't take long... Gratuitous King

6:03: ”Kevin Garnett is getting stronger by the day,” says exaggerator Hubie Brown, as The Big Ticket hits a baseline 15-footer. Here’s KG’s splits by month… You be the judge. 

October: 13 pts, 7 Reb, 53% FG; November: 14.4, 7.4, 52.4%, December: 16.2, 8, 58%; January: 12.2, 5.8, 47%; February: 14, 7.6, 55%; March: 14, 7.8, 50%

1:34: Speaking of old legs, Duncan misses a reverse layup and trudges back down the floor like an 8-months-pregnant woman. He’s 0-4 shooting tonight. Meanwhile, point guards George Hill and Rajon Rondo are putting on a clinic. I hope they both hit 20 points. I feel like Hubie has a Bird-Dominique comparison in him.

0:48: The Spurs are getting dominated on the boards, which is no surprise because they’re dead last in offensive rebounding. I’m more intrigued by walking corpse Michael Finley, who asked out of San Antonio because they have better assisted living facilities in Boston. Cold weather’s apparently good for one’s three-point stroke, though: 31.7% in S.A, 43% in 11 games with Boston. 23-19, Celtics.

Second Quarter

10:00: I preface the following statement by telling you that I picked the Cavs and Spurs to make the finals at the beginning of the year, and have $20 on both in a bet with my friend PK… If the Spurs make a run (I know, I know), it’s going to be because of Manu “Manu” Ginobili. He’s averaging 22 points a game in March, and looking very much like the athlete of ’07. Too bad there’s a high correlation between the guy’s bald spot and his team’s overall relevance. Bald spot bigger, title chances lower.

7:38: Manu gets his 11th point. 31-27, San Antonio, as Dukie Shelden William swaps in for Big Baby Davis. I was really enjoying the Rasheed-Baby tandem. Between the two of them, I thought I was watching the cast of “Baywatch: Harlem.”

You wish you had a rack like that.

6:00: “One of the best in the league that we have,” says Hubie, as Ginobili weaves through the lane and makes an acrobatic layup. The “in the league that we have” is totally Hubie’s crutch. He’ll say it 20 times tonight. I hope one of them is, “Rasheed Wallace has the best pair that we have in this league. You know Dan, he reminds me of a young Pam Anderson.” Manu’s got 13. 38-30, Spurs.

4:03: A hustling ‘Sheed dives for a loose ball, and flings a perfect outlet pass to an in-stride Rondo. Just kidding. But he did just hit a wide-open three, a rarity since he’s only shooting 28% from distance. Wallace has pretty much filled the exact same role that Antoine “No Benjamins” Walker mastered… Reporter: “Antoine, why do you shoot so many threes?” Antoine: “‘Cause there’s no fours.” 7-0 Celtics run. 40-37, Spurs.

3:01: Timmy sinks his first basket of the game with a line-drive jumper from the foul line. On the other end, Ginobili sends KG sprawling to his back on a full-ball rejection. All of these old people in one sentence gives me the opportunity to point out the advanced age of both teams… Celtics Geezers: Ray Allen (34), Michael Finley (37), KG (33), Paul Pierce (32), Brian Scalabrine (32), Rasheed (35)… Spurs Geezers: Duncan (33), Manu (32), Antonio McDyess (35), Richard Jefferson (deceased).

Exactly six feet higher than usual.

0:00: ”I like what we’re seeing… We’re just seeing poor shooting at both ends of the floor,” Hubie says. Besides the house worth of bricks on each side, totally agree – love turnovers and missed shots. I feel like Hubie could have been a White House secretary in another life. 44-43, Spurs. You know how people say that the fourth quarter of NBA games is the only thing worth watching? They’re 100 percent correct. 

Third Quarter

11:15: Fun fact as Manu finds a cutting Jefferson for a baseline layup: Hubie Brown is in the Hall of Fame. Why is this fun you ask? Because he’s got a career .492 win percentage, .368 in the NBA. 

9:41: “Vintage Jefferson!” says Shulman as the 29-year-old gets his own offensive rebound, cuts through the lane and lays the ball in over an outstretched Garnett… I hope I’m not dead by 29. And I hope my friends aren’t referring to “Vintage Hilson!” when I’m 29. 56-48, Spurs.

7:11: Remember when people were comparing Paul Pierce to Kobe and LeBron after the ’08 Finals? That wasn’t that long ago, right? He’s got a quiet 13 tonight and getting worked on both ends by Ginobili. Nice drive to the hole, though. (Michael Scott: “That’s what she said.” Thanks, Mike)

5:58: The refs just annulled a Rajon Rondo three after four minutes of game time. The ball was in his fingertips at the shot clock expired. Annulled after four minutes… Rondo three eerily similar to Brittany Spears’ fist marriage. 58-49, Spurs. Also, Paul Pierce just fell awkwardly on his shoulder. Pierce clanks his first free-throw and promptly clutches said shoulder like it’s been hacked with a machete.  

4:22: Even as the lead increases to 62-49, the Spurs fall in the standings. Portland just won and Warren Sapp is garnering Nostradamus comparisons. In other news, Richard Jefferson hits another off-balance jumper and two minutes later gets to the line by out-sprinting three C’s defenders to chase down a crafty 20-foot bounce pass from Duncan. Is this the play of a dead man? No. Will I stop making dead man jokes about him? (*thinking*)

No.

2:19: Pierce steps to the line and swishes a pair of free-throws for only the 9th and 10th Celtics points of the quarter. Miraculously, the shoulder is all better. Ric Bucher reports a “stinger.” I’m reporting “bruised pride.”

0:38: “We can’t say enough good things about Shelden Williams,” says Hubie in a fit of Dukie affection. Big Shelden’s averaging a 3.6 and 2.8 as a Celtic this season. He gives very enthusiastic high fives, though, and is killing it on the boards tonight. 

0:00: Hey, if you watch NBA games long enough, something spectacular is bound to happen. Ginobili whispers to himself, “This one’s for you, Holt” before darting down the left sideline and banking home a one-handed three over two Celtics defenders at the buzzer. “The NBA: Where Amazing Happens… Eventually.” 77-60, Spurs, as I contemplate sparing you the fourth quarter.

The NBA: Where "This Is the Only Game Pic I Could Find" Happens

Fourth Quarter

12:00: Still here. Your loss.

11:20: This is the point of the game where ESPN feels obligated to share goofy stats to compensate for an increasingly non-competitive affair. So here you go: The Celtics were 70-12 at home during ’07-’08 and ’08-’09; they’ve already lost 12 games at home this year. Since I started writing this paragraph, KG failed to close out UF alum/redhead Matt Bonner on an open three, and then Ginobili and Hill both scored on drives into the porous Celtics paint defense. 84-67, as the PA guy plays “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” over the sound system in a vein attempt to keep people in the building. 

8:11: Sill here. Your loss.

7:00: “Boy, there is some grumbling in the stands right now,” says Shulman, as the Spurs pull down their fourth offensive rebound of the quarter. He adds, “This is maybe the ugliest half of basketball the Celtics have played all season.” Yep. Picked a perfect game to blog. Then again, as Cleveland’s Shaquille O’Neal might say: It’s all about fillin’ space, holmes. 84-67, Spurs.

5:00: The superlatives continue to role in. Shulman: “Really a lifeless second half for the Celtics.” Doc sends in Michael Finley, Brian Scalabrine, Tony Allen, Nate Robinson and Big Baby amid a shower of boos. 90-67, as half the Spurs head for the locker room, Pops and Timmy toast a shot of Cap’n Morgan’s, and I begin to wonder how Versus’ coverage of the D League hijacked my flat screen. 

Attrition.

2:00: Don’t worry, we’re not talking about this game anymore. (“You have to punch the clock for the full 48 tonight,” Shulman tells Hubie in a secret nod to Yours Truly.) Nope, instead we’re talking about women’s college basketball. Baylor center Brittney Griner’s blocked 24 shots over the last two games of the Tourney, which is fitting given that my friend and I were blocked 24 times at the The Top last night. Dear girls with boyfriends and an all-female posse: please stay home.

0:00: 94-73, Spurs, as I begin to think that a victory over Cleveland and a victory over Boston in three days means that I didn’t totally light my $20 on fire. One more, Timmy. For me. 

- Robbie

21 and 101: An Unfocused Look at the Past Week in the World

Stone Cold Steve Austin, here to help celebrate.

Because we can’t cover everything, and we don’t work weekends, each Friday, Sports Casualties’ two co-authors will write two separate reviews of the past week. These startling pieces of immediate nostalgia will cover whatever topics the writers care to include. Consider this a wallet-sized picture that you can carry with you the entire weekend to hold yourself over until Monday when we will be back and better than ever.

This was a very personally fulfilling week for your humble staff here at Sports Casualties. Therefore, what you are about to read is a very personal recap of he past seven days.

No need for any introduction other than that. Let’s do this.

On Monday, SC celebrated its 101st post with 1,804 words of gratuitous self-back-patting. For a small blog that began with the motto of “if we make it to February, it will be a success,” this was very rewarding news. I won’t go too deep into this as most everything was covered in the legendary 101 post, but just know that we appreciate your readership, and 202 is just around the corner.

In other commemorative news, Thursday was my 21st birthday, and unless you were with me, you probably know about as much about it as I do. Let’s just say that the “Mind Eraser” shot may be the most aptly named product ever invented. There are certain things that one wakes up to that tells them all they need to know about the night before.

“Hey, come look. He’s up and moving and everything,” friend Corey said to friend Jon, as I began my day. Apparently this was groundbreaking news.

I just looked at the title of our site, and realized that I’m supposed to be writing about sports. Moving on.

SC: The worldwide leader in hungover rambling.

Much of the media world was thrown into a giant media people hissy fit Thursday when videos surfaced of Florida football coach and mayor of Gainesville, Urban Meyer, angrily confronting Jeremy Fowler of the Orlando Sentinel. Fowler broke a “story” on Monday quoting Gators wide receiver Deonte Thompson on his thoughts about new Gator quarterback John Brantley in comparison to some guy named Tebow.

Thompson said that Brantley’s pro-style manner might benefit him and referred to Brantley as “a real quarterback.” The quote exploded nationally and everybody basically flipped out about it. Was Deonte Thompson suggesting that Tebow is not a real quarterback? Is the addition of Brantley going to suddenly cure Deonte Thompson’s ongoing habit of dropping passes? Was Deonte Thompson in on some kind of crazy plot to kill Tebow in a disastrous scooter accident?

As you can imagine, this backlash embarrassed Thompson. As you can also imagine, this made Urban Meyer really damn angry. After practice on Wednesday, Meyer confronted Fowler which can be seen in the video below.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgqQshESm8s]

Weezy: Providing the soundtrack for this confrontation.

If there is one thing that we have learned about Meyer over the years, it’s that he heavily defends his players whether he is in the right or the wrong. Was he in the wrong here? Possibly. Is Meyer a nice guy? Probably not. Is he a great football coach? Hell to the yes.

I know that as an aspiring sportswriter, I should probably be angry about this or something (Oh, no! Urban Meyer is trying to kill journalism!). However, I’ve gone back and forth on this issue far too many times, and decided that I understand both sides.

Fowler didn’t appear to do anything wrong. He did quote Thompson accurately although you can question how he framed the quote. It is peculiar that he was the only reporter in attendance at the interview who felt that the “real quarterback” quote was print-worthy. Off first impression, he appears to be the stereotypical snarky, cynical reporter, not unsimilar to the budding jerks that I deal with on a regular basis in Weimer Hall. Not that I jump to judgments or anything.

On the other hand, Meyer is an elite college football coach. The University of Florida hires pretty blonde girls to handle public relations, they hired Urban Meyer to win national championships. Meyer is a control freak that doesn’t want anyone, especially a reporter, tinkering with his players. If I was a college football coach, I’d probably dislike reporters as well. Hell, I already can’t stand half of the kids in my journalism classes.

So I’m cool with both sides here, but mainly I’d like to be at Fowler’s next interview with Meyer.

Fun fact of the day: The Texas Rangers have spring training in Surprise, Arizona. Surprise!

Brett Yormark, chief executive of the Washington Generals, made news Monday night when he got into an argument with a fan who was wearing a paper bag over his head. Yormark was angry because the fan had stolen the bag that he was planning on wearing in the fourth quarter.

Washington Generals: Known to some as the New Jersey Nets.

On a side note, MTV Spring Break is dead, Erin Andrews looks great on “Dancing With the Stars” and arena football is back. Three topics that I have written on my handy SC notepad but am running out of time to discuss. Sorry.

I was also going to talk about health care, but then I realized that it would violate my new policy of not talking about anything that costs more than $937 billion while America is trying to swim out of debt like a toddler in the deep end sans floaties.

I am sad to say that there is no writer’s block again this week. Apparently you have to attempt to write to claim writer’s block. Here’s Julianna Guill. Consider it my apology.

See "Friday the 13th" for further reference.

What to Watch on Television this Weekend

Because although we live in a country where we are free to watch whatever we want, deep down inside we still want people to tell us what to watch.

NCAA Basketball Tournament – CBS – All Weekend

Help me cheer for UNI. Sweet 16, Elite Eight, enough said.

Wrestlemania XXVI – Pay-Per-View – Sunday, 7 P.M.

Umm yeah, I’ll try to avoid the “Super Bowl of Wrestling” cliche, but this is big. Huge card lined up including a match between Shawn Michaels and The Undertaker that could legitimately be a retirement match for the Heartbreak Kid [sheds tear].

Have a barbaric weekend.

-Bryan

"…Hitting the Fan" and Other Google Trends: The Week in Review, Redux

Dear Crazy People: Don't screw this up.

In a no longer unprecedented move, Sports Casualties will reverse the order of this week’s “Review” columns. Much like when “Sunday NFL Countdown” airs on Saturday, I stubbornly refuse to pull the “Redux” from the title. Bryan Holt will be here when he wakes up.

I’m sitting here on my couch, sequestered in my apartment on a Thursday because I’m pretty sure a hurricane just hit Gainesville. And not like the kind that hit in ’02 – Hurricane Willis was it?

No, I’m talking sideways rains, trees coming down, wind pelting my car with all manner of debris. Naturally, I turn on my TV hoping to find LeBron or a rerun of the “Real World.” Maybe bang out an “Office” recap to bump a crappy day of hits. No such luck. Just a bunch of crazy-ass Americans shouting “baby killer” and threatening to slay each other. People confusing higher taxes with fascism, and egomaniacal coaches tearing into unsuspecting beat reporters.

Didn’t the Nets win?

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this country is going to hell in a handbasket, which means one thing: the Week In Review is going to be freaking awesome.

Let’s do this.

__________

A bunch of old geezers came out of the canasta closet in the last few days to give golfing advice to a guy who could have beaten them in their primes with his left hand. Thank you for the lemonade and tea idea, Arnie. Now go away.

On Sunday, womanizer Tiger Woods spoke to ESPN’s Tom Rinaldi in a five-minute interview that was the golfer’s first since a November car wreck. Quick to point out the format’s drawbacks, Rinaldi told SportsCenter anchor Dari Nowkhah, “I think the first point to make is simple: this interview, in a five-minute limitation, is not conclusive, nor is it comprehensive… nor will it stop so many of the other questions that so many other people hear about Tiger Woods.”

Rinaldi added, “To be honest, Dari, it was a complete waste of everybody’s time.”

L to R: Greatest of All-Time, Not Greatest of All-Time

SportsCenter’s John Anderson probed Rinaldi as well, asking the reporter, “Why do you suppose Sunday, March 21, he decided ‘I need to visit Tom Rinaldi?’”

Rinaldi’s answer: “I think that’s a great question that’s open to a lot of speculation.”

My answer: “March Madness.”

Still, as most of America was tuned in to more important things, Tiger dropped a few worthwhile nuggets like, “You strip all that away and you find the truth.” He was alluding, of course, to self-denial – not lingerie.

“I got away from my Buddhism,” Tiger said.

Buddhism… Now which one was she?

All kidding aside, before Monday morning’s interview with the Golf Channel, Tiger asked correspondent Kelly Tilghman if she could make another racial slur, you know, to take some of the heat off him.

As March Madness progresses, a handful of under-the-radar mid-majors and small conference Cinderellas have knocked out Tourney heavyweights, opening the door for the likes of Northern Iowa and St. Mary’s. The far bigger development, though, is that CBS play-by-play man Gus Johnson IS CALLING THE GREATEST TOURNAMENT OF ALL TIME!!!!!!!

While CBS’s basketball coverage dominates television ratings, several major stations have turned to counter-programming to lure niche audiences. On Saturday, ESPN and ESPN2 broadcasted college wrestling and Strong Man competitions, respectively, while the opening round of the women’s tournament aired on Comedy Central.

Sticking with college basketball, on Monday’s “SportsNation,” smokin’ hot co-host Michelle Beadle said of her cast’s plans, “Tonight we’re all going down to the basement to eat some more tacos and watch the NCAA women’s championship.”

Geeze. If you’re producer Dave Jacoby, that’s a hell of dilemma to wrestle with. On the one hand, you have Michelle Beadle, in the dark, with free food. On the other hand, you have women’s college basketball.

We kid because... you're not very good.

It’s been a trying seven days for Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger. Early in the week, head coach Mike Tomlin expressed his concern over a potential assault trial, and on Monday, NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell scheduled a disciplinary meeting. To make matters worse, pop artist John Mayer spoke to Playboy Magazine about the situation, referring to Roethlisberger only as “sexual napalm.”

Turning briefly now to politics, as celebrations and rural rioting broke out across the nation to commemorate the passage of Congress’ $938 billion health care package, it came to my attention from the caravan of politicians filing through MSNBC that we have a senator named Sheldon Whitehouse.

So, little Sheldon, you were thinking about going into politics?

No pressure.

Turning now to a Whitehouse colleague, Sen. Tom Coburn’s (R-Okla.) penal attempts fell limp – so to speak – as his health care amendment outlawing Viagra for sex offenders failed amid heavy criticism from the Left. Though many are outraged at the pettiness and political posturing of such a move, no one following Congress should be surprised. When these legislative skirmishes start popping up, it’s difficult to keep them down. For the sake of the uninsured, let’s hope this kind of behavior doesn’t last for more than four hours.

As the winter turns to spring, many a roster spot is being heatedly contested in otherwise meaningless baseball games. Braves young gun Tommy Hanson has long secured his position in the Atlanta rotation and so set out on Tuesday against the Mets to unveil his new motto…

Velocity: it’s what’s for dinner.

While we’re here… we’re 100 percent sure that Hanson isn’t the lovechild of Axl Rose?

Like son...

...like father?

Unfortunately for readers, Bryan was unable to blog Mets-Braves because of “Spanish homework.” Or as it’s more commonly known, “Dos Equis.”

Moving on, bad weather delayed the grand opening of Minnesota’s new taxpayer-funded stadium. However, the extra days did give Twins management time to tinker with its tentative marketing slogan – Target Field: The House that Danny from St. Paul Built.

Over the weekend, I sued Braves right fielder Jason Heyward when one of his batting practice shots smashed my sunroof.

Sandra Bullock has things much worse than Heyward. The Oscar winner found out this week that husband and biking enthusiast Jessie James has been cheating on her with noted white supremacist Michelle “Bombshell” McGee. Upon this revelation, Bullock promptly phoned the Inglourious Basterds and asked Brad Pitt if he was interested in making a little money.

Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino said of James’ new lover, “Chill out, Nazi McGee”

Never one to avoid sensitive topics, radio personality and SC favorite Tony Kornheiser added to the discussion by saying of Bullock on air, “How do I say this gracefully? She’s the meat in the sandwich between a porn star and a tattoo model.”

Tony Kornheiser: graceful.

The Cantankerous One

Where does ESPN.com columnist Bill Simmons stand on all this? Well, on Tuesday’s “B.S. Report” with TV critic Alan Sepinwall, Simmons said of the new FX show “Justified,” “I’ve always enjoyed the Aryan subplot – I’ve always enjoyed dipping into that world.”

But during the same podcast, he said, “I’m kind of over World Ward II.”

You be the judge.

Rounding out the WIReview with a Keith Oblermann-like special comment, I’d like to say – in complete seriousness – that Sports Casualties is 100 percent behind the part of the country that hasn’t completely lost its mind. We pride ourselves on mild offensiveness, but when it comes to the President of the United States of America – and America in general – we’re all about respect, holmes. So to the people “cleaning their guns” and talking secession and penciling Hitler ‘staches on our president: cool it, or we’re gonna come up there and start kicking ass. You know, in a peaceful, non-violent way.

No buzzer beater, just words from Joe Biden: “This is a big f**king deal.”

- Robbie

The Cinderella Series: Dancing Panthers

UNI fans are getting big heads.

I’d like to dedicate this post to our own Bryan Holt, who will be AWOL till Friday celebrating his 21st birthday. Middle America salutes you, sir. Don’t do anything that crazed UNI fans wouldn’t do after the biggest win in school history…

Disclaimer: none of the following will help you pronounce “Farokhmanesh” correctly.

Hey, guess who’s got the most wins in the country?

Kentucky.

But don’t let my half-assed attempts at humor mislead you – this post is most definitely about the University of Northern Iowa Panthers, a team some maintain pulled the greatest shocker in Tourney history on Saturday.

These people, of course, are wrong. No team led by Cole Aldrich and Sherron Collins can be involved in the greatest upset ever. More to the point, no team with 30 wins can be on the victorious end. Much like Pamela Anderson – a long, long, long time ago – the Panthers are for real. Coach Ben Jacobson can attest to this with the new decade-long contract he inked today. Ten years, $450K per, with a $25K raise every year. He’s seein’ dolla dolla bills y’all. And with this bunch, he’s the only one – unless these guys plan on going into banking.

You won’t see any of the Panthers in the NBA next year. Not Missouri Valley Player of the Year big man Adam Koch, not giant-killer Ali Farokhmanesh, not any of the other 6-foot-nothing guards, and not Kwadzo Ahelegbe (if only because no GM can pronounce his name). But, go figure – you might just get a glimpse of these castoffs and big-school rejects in Indianapolis come April. And why the hell not? They’ve joined the Round of 16 without a guy that tops 12 points or 7 boards, they routinely get killed on the glass, and only two of their top-five scorers shoot over 38 percent. I mean, seriously, 38 percent – that’s a freaking Ty Cobb batting average.

White people.

UNI’s pretty much the Showtime Lakers, except the exact opposite: not flashy, not athletic, not even particularly fun watch. It’s best to think of them as your pickup game’s worst nightmare – a bunch of balding white guys who’ve never met a shot they didn’t want to take. And all double negatives aside, this team has absolutely no business being here.

Or so they’ve led us to believe…

The Long And Winding Road Northern Iowa’s been playing “hoops” for a while. I put hoops in quotations because this team first hit the hardwood with peach baskets nailed to the gym walls. Between 1903 and 1905, the Panthers went 11-12 combined against Midwest startups, a sheep and a piece of corn. They made the College Division (read: Division II) Dance in ’62, ’74 and ’79 and the NAIA Tourney multiple times pre-Korean War. Like Cinderella brethren St. Mary’s, though, UNI’s recent history is nothing to scoff at. This is their fifth dance since 2004 and, at nine, their lowest seeding ever. Back in ’90, they shocked No. 3 Missouri as a 14 for their first and only Tourney win. But as is the case with most dancing white men, the Panthers have steadily grown in confidence despite continued failures.

A Season to Remember As Tony Kornheiser said on Monday’s episode of “Pardon The Interruption”: “They lost to DePaul. DePaul!” And while Quentin Richardson just fired up a hate mail campaign, The Cantankerous One’s got a point. UNI played a schedule easier than a UF sorority house on a Thursday night. Yeah, they drilled Tourney darlings-until-they-weren’t Sienna back in December and squeezed by a handful of down power-conference teams (Boston College, Iowa, Iowa St.), but, hell, the rest of the Ws came against your run-of-the-mill Drakes and Bradleys and Indiana States. And personally, if I were Kornheiser, I would have gone with, “They lost to Evansville. Evansville!” because, you know, they actually lost to Evansville. But here’s a heck of a stat, and one that really tells you all you need to know about this team: they’ve allowed more than 60 points only nine times the entire season. Three of these instances came in the first four games of the year. The other two came in the Tourney. The Panthers, much like a grenade or hippo in a Seaside condo, simply don’t let you score (You thought I was passed “Jersey Shore” references? Wrong.). So these guys can afford to stink it up from the floor (43 percent shooting) and beyond the arc (36 percent) because they absolutely smother you on the other end. Opponents are scoring 55 points a game on under 41 percent from the field. As The Round Mound might say, that’s terble.

Jake Koch and Lucas O'Rear protecting this house.

Bracket Busters For the life of me, I don’t understand why Kansas waited until 7 minutes left in the second half to start trapping. Chalk it up to a large dose of ego, I guess, because when Bill Self put the clamps on down the stretch, UNI’s inbounders turned into a bunch of post-breakdown Chuck Knoblauchs. Just one errant pass and one massive brainfart after another. If I’m going to keep this metaphor going – and believe me, I am – then Ali Farokhmanesh deserves a Derek Jeter comparison for his ice-watered dagger of a three that many a Seth Davis are correctly heralding as the shot of the tournament. With just over a half-minute left, the little man with big balls hoisted from distance with a one-point lead and 34 seconds left on the game clock, giving way to one of those “You stupid fucOOHHHHHYEAAHH!!” situations on the UNI bench. Net. Down goes Frazier. And in all the round-of-32 hysteria, you forget about Farokhmanesh’s heroics two days before against eight seed UNLV. He hit the game-winning three to break a 66-all tie with 4.9 seconds left. “That’s what you dream for is to make a shot like that,” he told ESPN. And that was before Kansas. Unbelievable.

Famous Alums Not Named Kurt Warner (*crickets*) I guess we’re going to have to go with Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa), but I don’t want to harp on him too long for fear that the bad mojo will rub off. To get some idea of UNI’s lack of notoriety, just check the school’s Wikipedia page, where you will find listed prominently under notable alumni one “John Hall” of –  I kid you not – the Goose Island Brewery. Here’s another fun fact: Kurt Warner isn’t even in the school’s Athletic Hall of Fame. That’s like Sarah Palin missing out on the Valley Frontiersman’s “Who’s Who of Wasilla ’08.” Don “Not the Boxing Promoter” King was inducted in ’97. Bass ackwards. I, for one, would like to see some more love for UNI basketball ticket manager Stacy Harris, who not only deserves her own hall of fame, but should from here on out be spoken of only in the same hallowed discussions reserved for the likes of Michael Bolton, Barry Melrose and Bobby Budnick. As I told Bryan last night: Page 27, three rows down, hard right. I promise it’s worth it. Seriously, do this for me.

Yessir, it is most definitely tournament time.

Good luck, UNI. You’re a one-point underdog to Michigan State on Friday, but you’re a one-point overdog in the hearts of Casualtists everywhere. Let’s do this, Panthers. Let’s do this.

- Robbie

The Squeeze Play: Random Thoughts from Spring Training

The view is better from the berm.

The sports world is providing me with no uniform ideas, and I don’t know anything about “Lost.” Here are some rambling, unrelated  thoughts about the past few days of spring training.

Who said Ted Williams pulled off some amazing feat when he registered a .406 batting average in 1941? Three weeks into spring training, .400 batting averages are being passed out like Plan B pills on the John Edwards campaign trail. Mike Cameron, Joe Mauer and Buck Commander Chipper Jones, are among those with averages above the frozen line. Unfortunately for them, their early successes are coming during a period of time that is about as meaningful as a Brett Favre retirement.

Spring training can occasionally catch one off guard when they forget about offseason deals and then are confronted by them while watching a game. This happened to me on Tuesday when Billy Wagner took the mound for Robbie Hilson’s beloved Fighting Lil’ Jons in their game against the Mets. I had totally forgotten that Wagner signed a deal with the Braves in December.

One of Wagner’s more memorable moments during his time with the Mets was his postgame tirade suggesting that the surplus of Spanish-speaking players were dividing the clubhouse. It’s about time the Braves found a good closer to carry on the old #49 legacy.

Right on, Billy Wagner.

The Philadelphia Phillies beat MY Tampa Bay Rays 4-3 Tuesday in a “friendly” rematch of the 2008 World Series. For the Phillies, this was the second day in a row that they participated in a meaningless World Series rematch. On Monday, they played the New York Yankees, their opponent in the 2009 Fall Classic.

Ryan Howard hit two home runs in Tuesday’s game. Albert Pujols hit none. His team also did not play Tuesday. Vindication Buster Olney, sweet freaking vindication.

Anybody who watches MLB Network knows what it’s like to be constantly loaded down with the “MLB 2K10″ commercials that feature Evan Longoria. The theme behind those commercials is “How to Keep Longo from Going Longo.” It appears that the Phillies discovered the secret that the commercial is searching for. Just pray for doubles.

Man, Man, Man

ESPN began their annual TV coverage of spring training games on Monday. That’s right, if you love spring training but don’t enjoy beautiful days outside in Florida or Arizona, this is perfect for you. Sorry honey, sunscreen and a berm ticket cost $17, and times are tough. Now hand me the remote, woman.

I personally love how TV personalities treat any city in Florida as an exotic paradise when they come down here for these telecasts. We’re in FLORIDA! It must be necessary to wear the cheesiest looking Hawaiian shirt that I can find, or unbutton my super cool ESPN polo all the way! I mean we are in FLORIDA and this is how all of these people dress, right?

No, you’re in Lakeland, not Oahu. And you look like a jackass.

Stolen from John Kruk's hotel room.

On a side note, by the time you are reading this, it will be Wednesday, and the official announcement of who will get the Rays job as a fifth starter will likely be announced. I am still clinging to some form of blind faith that Wade Davis will not make a fool out of me in my personal competition that I have pitted him in against Jason Heyward. You better make the roster, Davis, my already non-existent credibility relies upon it.

Happy spring training…from Gainesville.

-Bryan

"Lost": Season 6, Episode 9 Recap

Kate's lingerie provided by Project Dharma.

Still so many questions. Still so many freaking questions.

Would just like everyone to know that I turned down an invitation to watch this with real people so that I could be with you, the 12-year-old digital perv surfing the web for hot pics of Evangeline Lilly. Shame on you, little Jimmy. Either stay off our site or start clicking some more damn links. There are at least 4 SC readers on here at any given time – you’re taking up valuable hosting space. By the way, how ya feelin’ about that Kate photo up top? In a word, baw-chicka-baw-wah. Pervert. Also, here’s another hot picture of Kate.

Sucker. Let’s do this.

I guess the big reveal tonight will focus around Lil’ Dickie Alpert’s inability to age. We’re not talking about “Oh, he looks great for his age” like Diane Lane or Jo Jo White or your friend’s hot mom. No, I mean the guy DOES NOT AGE. (Random aside: what’s it gonna be like for Clark Kent when Lois Lane starts letting herself go? The guy’s the freaking Tim Tebow of superheroes – he can get any woman he wants. You’re telling me those two are living happily ever after? No chance. I’d give that relationship 3 more years, tops, before he’s spotted at some swanky nightclub with Kristen Stewart or Lindsay Lohan. Men are pigs… Come to think of it, I’d ask the same questions of Ashton/Demi. Are they even still together? Gross. She’s gotta be like 58.) Back to Alpert. I say he’s a cyborg and that this entire show has been one massive plug for the yet-to-be-unveiled “Terminator” sequel: “Terminator: Stuck in a Moment He Can’t Get Out Of.” Music by U2. 

Okay, so maybe "gross" was a stretch.

 So we start off with Ilana – of “Ugly Betty” fame – in a body cast in the pre-crash timeline. Jacob comes to her bedside and tells her to protect the 6 remaining Jacob-replacing candidates. So, uh, Jacob knew he was going to die? Bizarre. Must be how Mike Dunleavy felt about his career about 6 months ago.

Back on the island, Richard Alpert – who will hereto forth be known as ‘Lil Dick – gives a rah-rah! campfire speech to the other main characters. Actually, he tells them “we’re all dead” and this “is hell.” Commercial break aside: Top 5 “Hell” songs in no particular order… “Hells Bells,” “Hell Ain’t A Bad Place to Be,” “Highway to Hell”…

Another fun fact about ‘Lil Dick. Not only does he possess eternal youth, but an innate ability to keep a perfectly coifed head of hair even on a jungle island. Moving on to our first batsh** flashback, The Ageless One is riding horseback a la “Wuthering Heights” to some shack on the island back in the early 1800s. His lady is sick, but as is usually the case with TV, still totally hot. Also, both of the Alperts speak Spanish – problematic since I like to listen and type at the same time. I have no idea what’s going on, but hey, that’s par for the course.

‘Lil Dick then goes to visit The Count of Monte Cristo for help. The count is unwilling, though, and accidentally bangs his head into the table in a struggle with The Ageless One. He’s dead, and unfortunately, so is Miss Dick, aka Isabella. Alpert is sentenced to jail, where he’s visited by a Catholic priest. You know what Catholic priests do to boys like Dickie? 

Refuse absolution, that’s what… You sick bastard.

Mr. and Mrs. Little Dick

Another commercial break gives me an opportunity to think about more songs with “hell” in the title. So far, I’ve only got three AC/DC tunes. And we’re going to round out the top five with Flaming Lips’ “Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell” and the Meaty One’s “Bat Out of Hell.” They don’t call me “Robbie the Music Man”…

Really, nobody calls me that. To Casualtist Amber, this is for you. Enjoy.

Return to action… I tuned in for “Lost” but instead got a third-rate “Pirates of the Caribbean” knockoff. So far, this episode is a total bust… until the ship Dick’s aboard en route to Devil’s Island runs into the now-just-a-foot Colossus statue. Bad news for the prisoners below deck: the captain is going to town on them with a sword. This is the most one-sided slaying I’ve seen since Lesnar-Couture. You’re welcome, Bryan. I know you’re only skimming anyway.

As I was thinking of clever UFC references (an abject failure), The Black Smoke – aka Ron Washington on Halloween – was busy saving ‘Lil Dick Alpert’s life, an act that would seem courageous if he wasn’t an indestructible black pillar of smoke. As we roll on into the commercial break, I’d like to point out that Kate has yet to appear in this episode. I will make this up to our horndog readership by adding extra hot kate pics. By the way, I’m a big “V” fan, and by “big” I of course mean that I think the main alien and her daughter are totally hot. Also, I hope all these instances of “hot” pay off with extra hits.

As always: suck it, Google. 

Here's to you Casualtists i.e. horny teenagers

Back to the shipwreck. Apparently the Black Smoke saved Alpert’s butt and gifted him with eternal life, but didn’t think to unlock the chains. But, hey, his dead wife is back and talking like a hopped-up Pentecostal preacher, gibbering about “Devil! EL DIABLO!” and what not. I’ve yet to explain how Isabella rose from the dead, but really, it’s a moot point because 1) it’s not been explained and 2) she just got killed. Again.

Good news for Dickie A. Not only have I thought of a new way to refer to him, but a well dressed gray haired man has come to his rescue (think Richard from the first “Survivor” during the reunion show). And he’s got keys to the chains. After a little chitchat, he uncuffs Alpert, who upon release feels like Ray Bourque after he was traded to the Avalanche. Says Well Dressed Gray Haired Man (WDGHM): “There’s only one way to escape from Hell – we’re going to have to kill the Devil.” I’m no theology expert, but I can tell you from the horror movies I’ve seen that this is almost impossible. Remember the end of “The Devil’s Advocate”? Yeah, this will end badly.

Back from commercial. Alpert is chowing down on monkey brains, when WDGHM drops this bomb: “I am the Black Smoke.” Alpert’s response:

WHATCHOO TALKIN’ BOUT WILLIS?

So the Black Smoke asks ‘Lil Dick to stab the devil with a knife. Again, I’m not feeling this plan – especially since Sayid’s attempt on Smoke Monster Locke was a disaster – but Dickie is a gamer. Surprise of surprises, “the devil” turns out to be none other than our Biblically-named man Jacob. For all those who didn’t go to a tiny private high school, let me point out the symbolism in this interaction: Jacob – by dunking ‘Lil Dick in the ocean and screaming “YOU THINK YOU’RE DEAD, BITCH?!” – is in effect saying, “I am gently baptizing you, my son. Now you will live forever. I am not the devil. I love you. BITCH!”

Gratuitous King. Miss you, Bron Bron.

Commercial break aside: I’ve been warned that this episode goes an extra 6 minutes, which means this post could run a little long. Does that stop me from writing pointless crap like “commercial break aside”? No. No, it doesn’t. Also, to “Lost” fans Amber and Sarika: since I’ve given “dap,” as the kids say, to both of you, I fully expect this post to reach 100 hits by Wednesday night. That is all.

“Are you the devil?” No, Jacob is not. I think I’ve established this. But he is a master analogist (if that’s a word) – he’s likening the Island to the cork in a bottle of wine. It’s basically a “hell” buffer, swallowing up all of the world’s “malevolence.” Jacob asks ‘Lil Dickie – who’s rocking some Jerry Garcia-worthy facial hair at this point – if he will be his intermediary for the people he (Jacob) brings to the island. Sure, why not? WDGHM is less than thrilled when he finds out about this, but says Dickie’s offer to join the Dark Side and revive Isabella from the dead still stands. This show is totally heading for a “Luke, I am your father” moment. 

*heavy breathing*

Back in the “current” timeline, ‘Lil Dick’s like, “I changed my mind. Does the offer still stand?” No answer. HOWEVVAH, as Stephen A. would say, Hurley’s been talking to Dead Wife Isabella… Did you ever see the clay sculpting scene in “Ghost”? This is pretty much what’s happening now between Invisible Isabella and Not Invisible Husband. I can’t describe it with any more detail and still keep this post PG-13. 

Last line: “You have to stop the Man in Black, because if you don’t… (in Espanol) WE ALL GO TO HELL.” Cue evil organ music and pan to Locke.

In closing, WDGHM and Jacob have a little heart-to-heart. Jacob passes WDGHM a bottle of wine, which Gray Hair smashes. They both promise to kill each other. Diehard “Lost” fans lose their collective s***. First one to tell me what WDGHM’s real name is, uh, gets a big shout out in the next post… and a digital cookie.

We’re done. But if you still haven’t gotten your “Lost” fix, check out two bloviators go toe-to-toe, theory-to-theory on the 3/5 episode of Bill Simmons’ “B.S. Report,” which you can download here. Also, thanks to Bryan for the word “bloviate.” He has a surprisingly expansive vocabulary for a NASCAR fan.

- Robbie

The Cinderella Series: St. Mary's Gael Force

Smile, Omar. You're on TV.

Turns out white people CAN dance.

For the love of Patty Mills and Mother Teresa, can a small-time Catholic liberal arts school in the middle of suburbia nowhere get some love from the locals?

Uh, no. I asked.

To celebrate St. Mary’s improbable run to the Sweet 16, I took it upon myself to do a little reporting, as I’m known to do when A) it’s convenient or B) my father’s involved. Luckily for the sake of this post, my father and his wife – aka my mom – live just a few miles down I-24 from the St. Mary’s campus in Moraga, Calif. Here’s the interview I conducted with Robb Hilson via text message on Saturday afternoon:

__________

Sports Casualties: Good day for The Pixie. (referring to a prominent SMC alum)

Robb: Is that a question?

SC: No. Talking about St. Mary’s. Big win!

Robb: They beat ‘Nova???

SC: Where you been? GO CRAZY, MORAGA!

Robb: I watched the pre-game at gym and then forgot all about it.

__________

As you can tell, Northern California is less than riveted by the pride of the West Coast Conference come Tourney Time. Would it help if the co-eds were forced to wear Catholic schoolgirl unis? Yes. It probably would. But as far as I know, this is not the case.

You probably think I’m over-generalizing based on a sample size of one. You’re wrong. Have you been to Moraga? It’s got rich white people, a 24 Hour Fitness, cows on a mountain, organic food shops, a four-movie theater and copious amounts of marijuana.   

Saint Mary's fans.

And that’s it. Now they have one of the 16 best college basketball teams in the country. Except the only people that seem even mildly interested are SMC’s 4,768 students, and Laura-Garcia Cannon, an NBC 11 anchor and proud Class of ’91 alum.

St. Mary’s has God on its side – obviously. But it needs your help. Here’s what you need to know to be qualified to hop the bandwagon.

The Long and Winding Road For starters, they’ve only been playing since ’07-’08 – 1907-1908. So that’s, what, 104 years of basketball? And this is only their sixth all-time dance invitation. The other five were fruitless – 1 win, total. You could say they’re the Kansas City Royals of college basketball – perennial doormat with a lone triumph – but that might be too big a compliment. Recent history hasn’t been half bad, though. SMC’s danced three times since 2005, and rode star guard/NBA draftee Patty Mills deep into the postseason just last year. It was the NIT, but still – 28-7 is impressive anyway you split it. White guy Bryan Holt is bullish about the future, writing, “I love St. Mary’s. They’ve been quietly building up to this for a few years now and they’re quickly becoming the new Gonzaga.” Surprisingly informed for a man that despises hoops, no?

Mills: Great ball skills, better high fade.

A Season to Remember? Yeah. I think we’ve established this. St. Mary’s made the likes of Jay Bilas ask “Patty who?” after back-to-back ass kickings of tourney teams New Mexico State and San Diego State in their first two games of the year. Having outscored opponents 180-126, SMC was riding high for a home showdown against Vandy in game three. Unfortunately, the Commodores are an excellent engineering school and used their advanced math skills to outscore St. Mary’s by a deuce, 72-70.  The school dropped a pair of regular season games to conference rival Gonzaga, but avenged those losses in Vegas with an 81-62 Zags throttling in the WCC Tournament championship ( 7,700 degenerate gamblers attended). Redshirt senior Omar Samhan – the 6’11” ogre up front – has been the team’s go-to guy all season, putting up a man’s 21 points-11 boards while landing conference defensive player of the year. Surrounded by a team of sharpshooters (41 percent on threes), he should have beat out Gonzaga’s Matt Bouldin for WCC player of year, but the voters looked at hair instead of stats and team performance. What are you gonna do? If nothing else, Samhan deserves his own Wikipedia page and probably solidified said spot in the digital ether with his Walton-like 13-of-16 for 32 points against Villanova in the round of 32.

L to R: Larry, Curly, Moe, Omar

Bracket Busters A 10 seed in the South, Saint Mary’s stepped on the seventh-seed Richmond Spiders 80-71 Thursday for their first Tourney victory since 1959 (when a 9-month-old Madonna was not in attendance). WCC Conference tourney MVP “Irish” Micky McConnell backed a 29-point outburst from Samhan with 23 of his own, and the rest of the undersized white guys upheld their reputation as “fundamentally sound” and “scrappy” by out-rebounding Richmond 40-18. Saint Mary’s then screwed over the Presidential bracket by downing Obama Final Four Pick Villanova 75-68 two days later. My father’s adamant disinterest did nothing to deter Samhan, who’s aforementioned monster of a game also included 7 boards, 2 blocks and some truly questionable facial hair. “This team is smart. It helps when you have smart players,” coach Randy Bennett told ESPN after the win. And really, what else can you say about a group of “throwback,” “gritty,” “old-school” guys with zero NBA potential? The Gails got 3-seed Baylor in Houston on Friday.

It’s “Gaels” not Gails, Jerk Admit it, you too thought that the Pride of Moraga was so named for the strong gusts in neighboring San Francisco. Call them what you want, just don’t call them a “lowland Scot” – Gaels are an indigenous Irish people. The all-white-starting-five starting to make more sense now? Thought so. Hell, they had to go to Australia just to find Mills. And when the two-time all-WCC star jumped to the pros, the Gaels continued to milk their feeder systems Down Under, luring star freshman Matthew Dellavedova from the Australian Institute of Sport. Dellavedova, as his surname would suggest, isn’t as athletically gifted as Mills, but he sure takes advantage of God’s gift to the white man. Or, as I like to call it, “the three-point line” – he hits at a 41 percent clip, second on the team behind McConnell’s doesn’t-this-guy-have-other-hobbies? 52 percent. All kidding aside, this squad is pretty much the reincarnation of Jimmy Chitwood’s ’54 Hickory High team. They’ve got a Beau and a Clint and a Mitchell. They’ve got a freaking Phil Benson. I mean, seriously, Phil Benson? The guy’s a walking stereotype. Kudos to freshman guard Jorden Page for breaking up the monotony in his second man off the bench role. (On behalf of a kid who’s nicknamed himself “afrobutterfly”: I know what it’s like. Solidarity.)

St. Mary's in their away unis.

Sports Casualties has your back, St. Mary’s. Let those treys fly. Ten-foot hoops are the same size in Indianapolis as they are in Moraga.

- Robbie