WrestleMania XXVII: My review of the weekend

Epic

To read an opinion of the show from someone who could actually see the fine points of each match and who wasn’t tainted by $7 beers, check out Kyle Rancourt’s notes on WrestleMania 27.

And so it has come and gone.

The greatest spectacle in sports entertainment, the Super Bowl of fake sports, the mania of wrestle. As an on-and-off, life-long fan of scripted fighing, attending my first WrestleMania was one hell of an experience.

Before I go into breaking down the actual event, here are a few bullet-point notes that stood out from the weekend as a whole:

• Sunny getting inducted into the Hall of Fame had to be a nerve-racking experience for any 90s-era wrestler who is currently married. Seriously, it’s almost cruel that they put her in the same class as Shawn Michaels. For those of you who don’t know, Sunny is well-known for being a prostitute in the 90s. And by prostitute, I mean she had sex with pretty much everyone on the WWF roster for free. HBK was one of her more notorious patrons relationships. That was of course before he became a born-again Christian and she became a cocky, over-the-hill, white trash queen of bloviation.
• Road Dogg’s induction of his father, Bullet Bob Armstrong, into the WWE Hall of Fame was awesome. It was certainly nostalgic, and made me wonder how this guy’s verbal skills don’t have him employed right now. Seriously, a “ladies and gentlemen” promo is enough to make me push for the return of managers.
• I could listen to Dusty Rhodes talk for days. The accent, the rambling stories and the curious explanations. Seriously, the upcoming WrestleMania DVD will be worth the cost simply because of The American Dream’s attempt at explaining the Iditarod.
• Stop what you’re doing and go to the Georgia Aquarium right now. Whale sharks are totally boss.
• Apparently the WWE Hall of Fame induction ceremony is a formal occasion for all. Little did I know that cheap suits and cheesy evening gowns were par for the course at pro wrestling’s red carpet occasion. I’ll be ready next time. Don’t you worry.
• Don’t ever drink Beverly soda. It’s from Italy, and it tastes like a combination of flat soda water and cheap vodka. Thanks a lot, World of Coca-Cola.
• The Double Coronary Bypass Burger is a half-pound patty topped with six slices of American cheese, eight pieces of bacon, two fried eggs and it’s all between two grilled cheese sandwiches that serve as the bun. The eggs get you.

Now onto the event.

Just walking into the Georgia Dome was an experience in itself. The build-up of the event is unreal, and you don’t really realize what you’re getting into until you arrive inside. The visual of the stage and ramp in the vast space of a 70,000-seat football stadium is incredible. It really is tough to imagine the work that goes into these four hours. Bonus perk: club seats.

Daniel Bryan vs. Sheamus

Ah, the part where I get to make fun of you, the lazy, stay-at-home PPV orderer, because you didn’t get to see this match, and I did. Except you didn’t miss anything. Really, you missed nothing. The US title match now infamously became the show’s dark match which infamously became a throwaway, get everybody on the show battle royal. Say it with me: Kick, kick, punch, punch, somebody falls over the top rope. Kick, kick, punch, punch, somebody falls over the top rope. Rinse and repeat and repeat and repeat.

The move is getting bashed and will surely be compared to the tag team title unification match that took place as the dark match for WrestleMania XXV. However, there are two key differences here:

• The tag match (between Miz/Morrison and the Colons) had a major build and was appealing to the casual WWE fan. This year’s US title match was barely a discussion point outside of Internet fans.
• The tag match didn’t turn into a giant, cluster battle royal between every tag team in WWE. OK, that’s probably because it already featured the only two tag teams in WWE at the time.

Remember when tag teams cut promos? Me neither.

Don’t worry, folks. Sheamus will be fine.

The Rock’s introductory promo

Nothing revolutionary here, so I know plenty of people at home complained that Rock did nothing new and seemed to be going through his traditional routine. Well, consider this Exhibit A of how much better EVERYTHING is in person. A live Rock promo is, as The Great One would say, electrifying. It jumped the crowd right into the show, and it’s always fun to sing-a-long with Rocky.

Alberto Del Rio vs. Edge

This match going on first shows the unconventional method that wrestling PPVs now operate under. I say this because it’s a theory that I feel most people didn’t understand when they wrote their respective reviews of Mania. There is no longer a traditional definition of the term “main event.” Matches are positioned to balance out the emotion of the crowd, and that’s exactly what was done in Atlanta to some extent. Sure, you could argue that this match didn’t need to go first because of Rock’s promo, but this was still an excellent start. A lot of fun and creative reversals by both guys, and a surprising result with Edge going over.

Del Rio’s arm bar finisher leaves plenty of sick possibilities for surprising twists, and we saw that for the first time on Sunday. It was shocking to see this come on first, but it sure set one hell of a precedent.

Cody Rhodes vs. Rey Mysterio

A match that is getting heavily underrated right now. I really thought this was a solid match, but the fact that the crowd was kinda mum to it did not do it any favors. It simply didn’t feel like a big deal because this is the only feud on the card that wasn’t featured prominently on Raw, which will always be the flagship show of WWE. It really came off as a comic book showdown between Mysterio’s Captain America gear and Rhodes’ over-the-top, self-disgusted villain. The victory was great for Rhodes, and both men got to show off some excellent maneuvers.

It’s too bad most of the crowd was like me and had little exposure to the feud as a whole.

No! Rip Hamilton is beating up Captain America!

Big Show, Kane, Kofi Kingston and Santino Marella vs. The Corre

This match was so bad and irrelevant that it was even more useless than I originally thought it would be. Proof? It didn’t even last long enough to serve as a proper bathroom/beer/merchandise stand break. It was all over before I even made it into the concourse. Dumb.

Randy Orton vs. CM Punk

I had previously said that I hoped this match would get somewhere between 15 and 20 minutes. According to ProWrestling.net, it got 14:45, but it deserved more. Not complaining, the two did an excellent, old school job with what they were given. Later, two veterans would prove that it was probably impossible to steal the show, but Orton/Punk was still very well done. Word is that Orton was particularly not happy backstage with where this match was placed on the card and how much time it was given. While part of me can’t blame him, the other part thinks the time for these two to absolutely star will soon come, and the placement of this match had a lot to do with the aforementioned unconventional card.

The RKO is an excellent move because it makes it feel like a match can end at any time. That was certainly the vibe in the arena when he caught CM Punk’s flying clothesline attempt. The crowd was a bit heel-heavy all night as WrestleMania tends to draw the intense wrestling fans who are older and bitter and blah, blah, blah. This was the first real evidence of this as Punk received heavy cheers from the crowd.

2011 Hall of Fame class introduced

HBK gets his moment and then has to pose for a picture next to, you guessed it, Sunny. Go away, devil woman.

Michael Cole (w/ Jack Swagger) vs. Jerry Lawler with Stone Cold Steve Austin as the special guest referee

You knew this match wasn’t going to be good. Hell, you knew it wasn’t even really going to be a wrestling match. But still, people find ways to complain that Cole didn’t come off like a descendant of Ricky Steamboat (or even Alicia Fox) on Sunday. My major complaint is that A – it went on about nine minutes too long and B – it solved nothing. All we needed was a four-minute blow-off where Lawler beat the hell out of Cole and chased him away forever, but that didn’t happen.

I differ from the crowd a little bit in that I supported Cole’s original heel run because as long as the crowd is being vocal, there’s no reason to ignore it. But what happened on Sunday both turned Cole’s heat from hatred to apathy, and then somehow kept this whole disaster going. Cole’s antics saturated the match to a point where Lawler’s offense wasn’t fully embraced. The crowd was the most enthusiastic in serenading Cole with “You can’t wrestle” chants and embracing Austin’s assorted Stunners.

It ended up being fun live, but I can only imagine how bad it dragged on television. Stone Cold’s antics in dealing with Cole’s tap-out was hilarious . But then the reversal left everything open. I thought it may lead to the final reveal of the Raw GM, but I’m now sure more than ever that that person doesn’t really exist.

Undertaker vs. Triple H

Equal parts brutal, believable and epic. The Undertaker continues to set an insane bar for WrestleMania performances in defending the latter years of his streak that now stands at 19-0.  Where the matches with HBK were technical and flashy masterpieces, this was a grueling and destructive match that lived up to every bit of its hype and stipulation. As one little kid said walking out of the Georgia Dome: “When they said no holds barred, they really meant no holds barred.”

I’m now completely convinced that Undertaker will wrestle until he can’t walk anymore, which I predict will be WrestleMania XXVIII. I’ve seen devastating hardcore matches, and I’ve seen mind-boggling psychological matches that suspend disbelief. However, I have never seen a match mix the two qualities in such a perfect manner.

This was a spot fest that told a story. A story that made fans cringe and gasp in amazement. It took every young wrestler in the back that might be bitching about veterans owning the card and said, “Well, go do that, and we’ll talk.”

There was a bit of role reversal from the Taker/HBK matches in that it was Triple H frustrated by Taker’s ability to keep getting up. It drove him several Pedigrees, repeated chair shots (including one to the head which we haven’t seen in a very long time) and arguably the most dramatic Tombstone of all time. We’re all supposed to know better, but admit it, you thought the streak was over for a moment when The Game went for the coffin cover. It was the biggest pop of the night in the Georgia Dome.

So cool.

Being the idiot that I am, I do have a minor tweak for one of the best executed matches of all time. I really would have liked to see Triple H pass out a la Stone Cold at WrestleMania 13. It just seems more in line with the whole “win or die trying” theme that Triple H was trying to get across. The reality now is that he quit. Still a crazy and awesome ending.

I feel like it wasn’t too far from reality to have Taker stretchered out of the arena. The man should probably not be wrestling or doing anything physical at this stage, but he continues to destroy his body for the streak. His squirming and general discomfort left an eerie but appreciative feeling in the dome and encouraged a great, polite standing ovation. Taker may never truly break character, but he became a little bit human Sunday night. Don’t expect to see The Last Outlaw for several months as he really sold the idea that he’ll be feeling like hell for a while because of this one night.

Trish Stratus, John Morrison and Snooki vs. Dolph Ziggler and LayCool

Attention, douchers. This is what is called a buffer match. It is the match that serves as your letdown from a great match so that another big match isn’t expected to top something that it probably can’t. The placement of this match does not somehow mean that Vince McMahon views Snooki as a main-event attraction.

This was simply a gimmick that served as a transition. Calm down, losers.

From L to R: guidette, midcarder

Attention, douchers No. 2. Booing Snooki doesn’t make you cool or a better wrestling fan or anything more than, well, a doucher. I admitted this last night, and I’ll admit it again. I was kinda proud of Snooki last night. She ran out in front of 71,000 people who all wish they could get paid to party on television, and got her spray-tanned ass completely booed off. She received the second most heel heat on the show, and we’ll get to No. 1 in a moment.

But then she did something crazy. She showed a little bit of athleticism, and everybody either shut up or (gasp) cheered. It was a legitimately cool moment, and you could tell it meant a lot to her.

Ziggler and Morrison will one day get better draws for Mania. But first they both have to prove they have more charisma than they’ve show in their careers. Pushing either one right now would be a rush. They’re simply not polished enough as complete characters.

The Miz vs. John Cena

Let’s talk for a second about the biggest mistake made at WrestleMania 27.

The cool entrances are over and it’s time for the WWE Champion to face a man who is supposed to be the company’s biggest babyface. It should be electric and deafening inside the arena. Except no one cared.

No one cared because they knew not to take the match seriously until they saw The Rock. They knew not to cheer for Miz because he’s an overly pompous heel, but they also knew not to cheer for Cena because Rock has informed the world that it’s not cool to cheer for WWE’s biggest merchandise man.

What we got was an overshadowed heel champion working against a face challenger who received more heel heat than anyone else on the card (even Vickie Guerrero) on Sunday night. It was awkward and went against the grain of pro wrestling 101 in a bad way. I don’t think I’m alone in admitting that I paid little attention to the match until Rock came out and restarted it.

UPDATE: Since I began writing this, it was announced on Raw that Rock will face Cena in a match … In 361 days at WrestleMania 28 in Miami.

So if Rock continues to destroy Cena, what choice does WWE have? Eventually the kids will stop cheering for him because it’s not cool to cheer for Cena at live events. But then again, Cena could gain his face status back by going through some other feuds with intense heels in the mean time.

One last thing with Cena/message to fans: If you boo Cena and tear into him because you truly hate his character, go ahead. But if you’re at an event and doing so simply because he appeals to kids, grow the hell up. Guess who wrestling is made for? Kids, not 45-year-old socially awkward Game Stop managers, you creepy bastard. It only makes you more pathetic and closer to “It’s still real to me, dammit” status to pick on kids at a pro wrestling match. Heels aren’t impressed by the fact that you waited in line for two hours to see them because you read dirt sheets and consider yourself whatever the hell a “smark” is. Cena works his ass off and keeps your favorite company afloat. Tyson Kidd doesn’t.

Do I care for Cena? Not really, but I understand his place in WWE as the company’s most marketable star. However, it is getting very difficult to see the future of that status if Rock continues to blur lines.

For the record, it was very strange hearing Miz get a giant pop for his pinfall.

If you smell...

Overall

As I’ve repeatedly said, I loved everything about attending Mania. It was truly a blast and an experience that I’ll remember forever.

If there’s one thing that really stood out Sunday, it was that WrestleMania 27 defined the idea of sports entertainment over wrestling. It might not be for everyone, but to me the spectacle element beats the hell out of watching two computer geeks go crazy for 45 minutes in a high school gym. If you don’t like it, don’t watch it. WWE won’t miss you.

WrestleMania 27 was far from technical, but it was certainly a spectacle. The countdown to Miami begins now.

-Bryan

“KJ2MIA” and Other Google Trends: The Week in Review, Redux

Meet the new boss.

Best. Week. Ever… Ok, besides Joe Johnson.

“She certainly is quite stacked, I’ll give you that,” says Mother Afrobutterfly, as she mildly berates me for my history of Drury-heavy posting. Yes, Casualtists, I’m still back home and now – despite my best efforts – my parents are back as well. Benefits to this include: working Internet courtesy of Mr. Fix It (aka qbytheU aka my father), homemade meals (although tonight’s teriyaki salmon was “something you’d get at a Picadilly”), a replenished fridge full of Budweiser and, of course, a bountiful well of source material.

Joking aside, my parents are pretty awesome, event though my mom’s incessant whistling of “A Whiter Shade of Pale” as I attempt to pound out a Week In Review does its best to convince me otherwise. And since I only see them some 20 or so days out of the year, I’m going to try to be on my best behavior. They’re pretty good to me.

So you’ve probably heard a lot about Miami in the last few days, what with its primetime billing on E! reality specials, proliferation of beautiful women cluttering your TV screen and – OH YEAH – the probably-false-but-we’re-going-to-run-it-anyway-because-journalism-in-the-21st-century-is-a-total-joke Stephen A. Smith report that LeBron James to South Beach is “highly likely.” Needless to say that if LeBron really does sign with Riles, D-Wade and Chris Bosh, I’m taking 75 percent of the credit – and only because I’m ceding the other 25 percent to my father, who’s now tagging all emails with “KJ2MIA” (Read: King James… you get the rest).

I’m sticking to my guns on this one – James to the Windy City in a sign-’n-trade for Luol Deng and a Gibson’s steak – but it would make intuitive sense, at least, that the Hilsons return to The 305 spells six years of good fortune. I need not remind you that the Florida Gators ripped off four national championships in my first four years in Gainesville. Or that said team won a combined ONE title in basketball/football in the preceding history of time before my arrival.

(Side note: just scored football season tickets through the student lottery, so if you’re some bleeding heart Gator looking to blow his life savings on UF/Alabama, I’m more than happy to rip you off… hit me up. I’ll be watching replays of the 2002 Rose Bowl)

We were really good once.

Let’s talk some more about Miami, and specifically about how a friend of a friend of a friend who dates Pat Riley’s daughter has confirmed to Sports Casualties that Riles was actively recruiting King James before July 1. Yes, this against league rules. And if David Stern is a Casualtist, you, Heat owner Micky Arison, are screwed.

So what did I do this week? Thanks for asking…

Monday: Spent quality time with two buddies at a dive in the Grove that apparently collects fine Cuban women. You wouldn’t think that a Monday night in Anywhere would be unquantifiably better than the best night in Gainesville. You would think wrong. The Gator football player I ran into can back me up on this one. He did the Chomp unprovoked and gave me a black-man handshake. Must’ve known I go by Afrobutterfly. Sweet.

Tuesday: Thought about Monday, and didn’t watch soccer.

Wednesday: Pregamed for LeBron-A-Palooza via poolside free-agency blogging. Also had lunch with the prettiest girl in Miami.

Thursday: More poolside blogging made palatable by the fact that A) I was poolside and B) I was blogging, as opposed to something that could be construed as productive.

As you can see, much like Vlad Guerrero against his old team Wednesday, I too went four for four with two homers. More bloviating to come, but first let me take this opportunity to tell all of Canada to shove it.

Way back at the trade deadline, I wrote the following about the Toronto Raptors’ decision to keep star forward Chris Bosh…

For his part, Colangelo thinks the Raptors have more than the shot I give them to resign Bosh. I give them a shot in hell. The Raptors will essentially let walk one of the premier all-around forwards in basketball – this after they spent about $50 million on Hedu Turkoglu. The lesson here as always: Canada sucks.

Well this did not sit to well with Milton Sports Guy, Dan, Ian, J.W., or  Doug when they read it here. Each called me vicious names, while maintaing with Purple and Rose-colored glasses that Bosh would resign with Toronto.

In the most gracious way possible, then, I’d like to remind the good people of Ontario that I was right and you were delusional. Your boy will leave. Enjoy another six years of irrelevancy and bitterly cold winters.

Best,

Robbie

"Reunited and it feels so.."

Now to other news and notes…

On Saturday during Yankees-Dodgers, Fox’s Joe Buck and Tim McCarver debated whether or not NL managers should make Nationals pitcher Stephen Strasburg an all-star after only five starts.

Managers? Apparently Buck and McCarver have never heard of “divine right.”

Also on Saturday, the Braves squeaked out a 4-3 victory over the Tigers when, with the bases loaded, plate umpire Gary Cederstrom called a third strike to end the game on a pitch a foot outside. Asked to explain himself afterward, Cederstrom said, “Come on. Did you watch the ’97 NLCS? The Braves had this one coming.”

Somewhere, the Crime Dog sleeps easier.

On Friday, Diamondbacks pitcher Edwin Jackson threw a no-hitter against the Rays. I wasn’t able to see it, but I’m sure there’ll be one next week.

The Boston Celtics’ disgruntled vet Rasheed Wallace, who still has 2 years and $14 million left on his deal, announced his retirement over the weekend. Some analysts called the move “unexpected,” others compared it to manna from heaven.

Braves pitcher Kenshin Kawakami improved to 1-9 after giving up 2 hits over 7 innings on what has since been dubbed “The Day The Earth Stood Still.”

The Department of Defense this week deployed two massive blimps to the site of the BP oil spill. The plan, apparently, is to distract Gulf Coast residents with, uh, two massive blimps.

On Wednesday, ESPN aired “The NBA Free Agent Roundtable,” a sit-down pairing “PTI’s” Michael Wilbon and Tony Kornheiser with the Miami Herald’s Dan Le Batard and Sports Guy Bill Simmons… or as the latter are known to top Bristol brass, “The Replacements.”

Now it’s time for ‘CaneSpotting, where I keep tabs on your favorite Miami Hurricanes via brief, awkward encounters…

UM star receiver Travis Benjamin looks like he just got off the “Survivor” island, but he’s made up for lack of muscle by adding 20 pounds of offseason dreads.

Hopefully, T-Ben is getting advice from Olympic sprinter Lauryn Williams, who’s sporting thighs the size of my waste and looks to be in fine form for London 2012. (extent of encounter: I nod, she nods, she laughs at my whiteness.)

Medalist/Hurricane

For now, though, Benjamin is a mere semester away from completing his long-in-the-making total-body transformation to Ziggy Marley.

I also bumped into coach Frank Haith and the UM basketball team at sushi joint Raw in South Miami. I didn’t say anything to them, as they were too busy thinking of ways to underachieve.

KJ2MIA

- Robbie

"KJ2MIA" and Other Google Trends: The Week in Review, Redux

Meet the new boss.

Best. Week. Ever… Ok, besides Joe Johnson.

“She certainly is quite stacked, I’ll give you that,” says Mother Afrobutterfly, as she mildly berates me for my history of Drury-heavy posting. Yes, Casualtists, I’m still back home and now – despite my best efforts – my parents are back as well. Benefits to this include: working Internet courtesy of Mr. Fix It (aka qbytheU aka my father), homemade meals (although tonight’s teriyaki salmon was “something you’d get at a Picadilly”), a replenished fridge full of Budweiser and, of course, a bountiful well of source material.

Joking aside, my parents are pretty awesome, event though my mom’s incessant whistling of “A Whiter Shade of Pale” as I attempt to pound out a Week In Review does its best to convince me otherwise. And since I only see them some 20 or so days out of the year, I’m going to try to be on my best behavior. They’re pretty good to me.

So you’ve probably heard a lot about Miami in the last few days, what with its primetime billing on E! reality specials, proliferation of beautiful women cluttering your TV screen and – OH YEAH – the probably-false-but-we’re-going-to-run-it-anyway-because-journalism-in-the-21st-century-is-a-total-joke Stephen A. Smith report that LeBron James to South Beach is “highly likely.” Needless to say that if LeBron really does sign with Riles, D-Wade and Chris Bosh, I’m taking 75 percent of the credit – and only because I’m ceding the other 25 percent to my father, who’s now tagging all emails with “KJ2MIA” (Read: King James… you get the rest).

I’m sticking to my guns on this one – James to the Windy City in a sign-’n-trade for Luol Deng and a Gibson’s steak – but it would make intuitive sense, at least, that the Hilsons return to The 305 spells six years of good fortune. I need not remind you that the Florida Gators ripped off four national championships in my first four years in Gainesville. Or that said team won a combined ONE title in basketball/football in the preceding history of time before my arrival.

(Side note: just scored football season tickets through the student lottery, so if you’re some bleeding heart Gator looking to blow his life savings on UF/Alabama, I’m more than happy to rip you off… hit me up. I’ll be watching replays of the 2002 Rose Bowl)

We were really good once.

Let’s talk some more about Miami, and specifically about how a friend of a friend of a friend who dates Pat Riley’s daughter has confirmed to Sports Casualties that Riles was actively recruiting King James before July 1. Yes, this against league rules. And if David Stern is a Casualtist, you, Heat owner Micky Arison, are screwed.

So what did I do this week? Thanks for asking…

Monday: Spent quality time with two buddies at a dive in the Grove that apparently collects fine Cuban women. You wouldn’t think that a Monday night in Anywhere would be unquantifiably better than the best night in Gainesville. You would think wrong. The Gator football player I ran into can back me up on this one. He did the Chomp unprovoked and gave me a black-man handshake. Must’ve known I go by Afrobutterfly. Sweet.

Tuesday: Thought about Monday, and didn’t watch soccer.

Wednesday: Pregamed for LeBron-A-Palooza via poolside free-agency blogging. Also had lunch with the prettiest girl in Miami.

Thursday: More poolside blogging made palatable by the fact that A) I was poolside and B) I was blogging, as opposed to something that could be construed as productive.

As you can see, much like Vlad Guerrero against his old team Wednesday, I too went four for four with two homers. More bloviating to come, but first let me take this opportunity to tell all of Canada to shove it.

Way back at the trade deadline, I wrote the following about the Toronto Raptors’ decision to keep star forward Chris Bosh…

For his part, Colangelo thinks the Raptors have more than the shot I give them to resign Bosh. I give them a shot in hell. The Raptors will essentially let walk one of the premier all-around forwards in basketball – this after they spent about $50 million on Hedu Turkoglu. The lesson here as always: Canada sucks.

Well this did not sit to well with Milton Sports Guy, Dan, Ian, J.W., or  Doug when they read it here. Each called me vicious names, while maintaing with Purple and Rose-colored glasses that Bosh would resign with Toronto.

In the most gracious way possible, then, I’d like to remind the good people of Ontario that I was right and you were delusional. Your boy will leave. Enjoy another six years of irrelevancy and bitterly cold winters.

Best,

Robbie

"Reunited and it feels so.."

Now to other news and notes…

On Saturday during Yankees-Dodgers, Fox’s Joe Buck and Tim McCarver debated whether or not NL managers should make Nationals pitcher Stephen Strasburg an all-star after only five starts.

Managers? Apparently Buck and McCarver have never heard of “divine right.”

Also on Saturday, the Braves squeaked out a 4-3 victory over the Tigers when, with the bases loaded, plate umpire Gary Cederstrom called a third strike to end the game on a pitch a foot outside. Asked to explain himself afterward, Cederstrom said, “Come on. Did you watch the ’97 NLCS? The Braves had this one coming.”

Somewhere, the Crime Dog sleeps easier.

On Friday, Diamondbacks pitcher Edwin Jackson threw a no-hitter against the Rays. I wasn’t able to see it, but I’m sure there’ll be one next week.

The Boston Celtics’ disgruntled vet Rasheed Wallace, who still has 2 years and $14 million left on his deal, announced his retirement over the weekend. Some analysts called the move “unexpected,” others compared it to manna from heaven.

Braves pitcher Kenshin Kawakami improved to 1-9 after giving up 2 hits over 7 innings on what has since been dubbed “The Day The Earth Stood Still.”

The Department of Defense this week deployed two massive blimps to the site of the BP oil spill. The plan, apparently, is to distract Gulf Coast residents with, uh, two massive blimps.

On Wednesday, ESPN aired “The NBA Free Agent Roundtable,” a sit-down pairing “PTI’s” Michael Wilbon and Tony Kornheiser with the Miami Herald’s Dan Le Batard and Sports Guy Bill Simmons… or as the latter are known to top Bristol brass, “The Replacements.”

Now it’s time for ‘CaneSpotting, where I keep tabs on your favorite Miami Hurricanes via brief, awkward encounters…

UM star receiver Travis Benjamin looks like he just got off the “Survivor” island, but he’s made up for lack of muscle by adding 20 pounds of offseason dreads.

Hopefully, T-Ben is getting advice from Olympic sprinter Lauryn Williams, who’s sporting thighs the size of my waste and looks to be in fine form for London 2012. (extent of encounter: I nod, she nods, she laughs at my whiteness.)

Medalist/Hurricane

For now, though, Benjamin is a mere semester away from completing his long-in-the-making total-body transformation to Ziggy Marley.

I also bumped into coach Frank Haith and the UM basketball team at sushi joint Raw in South Miami. I didn’t say anything to them, as they were too busy thinking of ways to underachieve.

KJ2MIA

- Robbie

"Architectural Marvel" and Other Google Trends: The Week in Review, Redux

Paradise.

The day of the week with the most potential? Not if I have anything to say about it… Bryan is already here.

Great news. Everything is more expensive in Miami. Everything. Gas (buying solely from BP now to counteract inflation), haircut ($20 from Feliciana at Super Cuts), hipster jeans (that’s the “sales rack”?), beer ($1 Coronas, $3.75 limes), parking meters (cash only) and air (three days, eight total breaths).

It’s not like I didn’t know this, and so I’ve kept costs down the best way I know how: by doing nothing. I would blame this on my lame-ass best friends – one’s taking a real estate crash course, one’s laying diplomatic groundwork in South Africa – but they’re actually both decidedly non-lame. I’ll let it slide. Plus, it’s not like I have a lot to complain about given this kind of daily schedule:

8 a.m. – Think about waking up/decide against it.

11 a.m. – Typical breakfast… with mango.

1-7 p.m. – Poolside blogging, girl watching, coffee shop blogging, lunch… with mango, poolside doing nothing, planning thesis (in head).

I also stumbled upon something today that I stumble upon every day, because I live two blocks away: the renovated University of Miami baseball stadium. A few things you should know about said venue…

1) It use to be an eyesore on par with the equally ugly sorority row houses it neighbors.

2) Cheater/non-UM alum Alex Rodriguez donated $3.9 million to get his name pasted on the outside. The money was quite unexpectedly put to good use… One can only assume that U President Donna Shalala was circumvented in the process.

A match made in… a tanning salon.

3) It’s home to a traditional power that’s won four national championships and would very much like to display the extent of such prestige to street-level passers-by… in theory.

Now do me a favor. As you look over this SC Exclusive “photo essay” of Alex Rodriguez Park at Mark Light Stadium, I’d like you to pay specific attention to point no. 3 and see if you can detect anything wrong with this, uh, picture…

Front entrance, from street level

Thanks, Alex. Well done.

Championship lettering from side view… Clean and attractive

Championship close-up.

Now let’s pull back a bit…

Hmm… Where did the titles go…?

And a bit further…

(*shaking head*)

And a bit futher…

You CANNOT be serious.

So I guess my question to you, Captain Common Sense, is this: who the f*ck decided it was a good idea to plant the trees RIGHT IN FRONT of the national championship signs?

This is a total embarrassment, and yet 1oo percent on par with the Orange Bowl’s (RIP) inconspicuous title signs and tucked-away 58-game home winning streak poster (trust me, it was there).

Come on, guys. If you ran your own hot dog stand, would you hang the “World’s Best Hot Dogs” banner in the back of the kitchen above the starter light?

Any chance of showing off our past with competence, you know, instead of turning our baseball stadium into a big red flag to parents considering sending their children to the UM College of Architecture?

Deep, angry breath…

___________

Let’s play Pros/Cons

Pro: The Indiana Pacers proved Thursday they’ve learned a valuable lesson – namely, white guys don’t win championships. Way to pass on Cole Aldrich, Larry Bird. I know that took incredible restraint.

White people.

Con: Even Jay Bilas hates the NBA Draft.

Pro: After a series of draft week salary dumps, the Miami Heat now have more cap room than God and the Knicks combined.

Con: LeBron/Wade/Bosh… or Wade/Lee/Gay?

Pro: Traffic in Miami made far more palatable by wealth of beautiful women in convertibles.

Con: You thought the MetroRail would get you to the airport? What do you think this is, New York, Boston, D.C., San Francisco, Chicago or any other major American city?

Pro: Two dudes at Wimbledon played the longest match in tennis history: 3 days, 11 hours, 1 Frenchman disproving every negative ethnic stereotype relating to quitting, laziness, and ability to extend a battle overnight.

Con: You didn’t seriously think I’d wake up at 7 to catch the ending.

Last Friday, the President of the Free World was in attendance to see Barack Obama at Nationals Stadium… Or was it Obama in attendance to see Strasburg? Bottom line: both were in the building at the same time.

Also on Friday, three generations of Boston greats convened in Fenway Park, as the Dodgers’ Manny Ramirez returned home to David Ortiz and the Red Sox with Roger Clemens looking on from atop the Green Monster.

No truth to the rumor the gathering was part of Stanozolol Giveaway Night.

On Sunday, when asked how the galleries were responding to Tiger Woods, ESPN’s Rick Reilly said, “People at Pebble would cheer Osama Bin Laden if he birdied.”

This is true – Rick Reilly, who I stopped reading in fifth grade out of maturity, actually made this comparison on live TV. Ironically, I would very much like to see Reilly spend the rest of his life in a cave in Pakistan.

Phelps with rodeo clown.

Over the weekend in Alabama, President Obama promised people of the Gulf Coast the government would leave communities affected by the spill better off than it found them… though, it’s still unclear whether the president will lift the drilling moratorium so half the population can go back to work.

“News” broke this week that Rays pitcher Wade Davis hit teammate David Price in the groin with a change-up during a game of catch. This comes after Tampa Bay was kicked in the balls by the Braves and Marlins.

In an unsurprising turn of events, the French soccer team walked out on their coach during practice days after star striker Nicolas Anelka was sent packing for insubordination. Sure France isn’t putting up much of a fight, but hey, at least this time there aren’t armed Germans on the other side.

On Monday, world no. 60 Alejandro Falla pushed six-time Wimbledon champ Roger Federer to five sets in the tournament’s opening center court match. Falla, a relative unknown, was actually two sets up on Federer before completely collapsing, or as it’s been known since Sunday, “Channeling his inner Dustin.”

On Thursday, the Washington Wizards selected Kentucky guard John Wall with the no. 1 overall pick in the NBA draft. I like this move a lot, though some insist the Wiz already have enough firepower at the point.

On Tuesday, conservative commentators jumped on President Obama for spending his weekend on the golf course.

Chillin.

Look, the guy’s fighting multiple wars, trying to cleanup a disaster in the Gulf, struggling to pass immigration reform, squabbling with top military brass, hanging out with Paul McCartney, attending Nats games, trying to keep up relations in Chicago, and vacationing in the North Carolina mountains with his family.

THE MAN NEEDS A BREAK, ALRIGHT! Lay off, you Palin-loving, right-wing fanatics. These are exactly the kind of things your last president was doing.

No, I’m kidding. Bush wasn’t a Beatles fan.

A Rolling Stone article profiling Gen. Stanley McChrystal and the war effort in Afghanistan hit newsstands today. Though the chief counterinsurgency strategist burnt many a political bridge by roundly offending just about every member of the president’s administration, McChrystal did endear himself to Bryan Holt, who said afterward, “He had me at Bud Light Lime.”

On Wednesday, President Obama relieved the general of his duties. The meeting went something like this…

President Obama: (*uproarious laughter*) Bud Light Lime? BUD LIGHT LIME!? (*more laughter*)

Gen. McChrystal: (*hides head in shame*)

President Obama: (*still laughing*) Sorry, we’re all out. Can I get you a chardonnay?

Gen. McChrystal: (*stands up, turns toward door*)

President Obama: Rahm, bring the good man a mango vodka spritzer, would you?

Gen. McChrystal: (*walks out of Oval Office*)

President Obama: BUD LIGHT LIME! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

No soup for you.

The magazine piece came about when a young, freelance journalist for Rolling Stone convinced the general and his band (of officers) to let him tag along on cross-country travels. A part of me suspects this is all an elaborate Cameron Crowe set piece for the sequel to “Almost Famous.”

The city of Gary, Indiana on Tuesday announced that it would hold a vigil for native son Michael Jackson in a ceremony that can only be described as “timely.”

Here’s your buzzer beater.

America: great at celebrating AND soccer.

- Robbie

50 Things You Should Know About Miami

Like any other city, except way better.

I’m in The 305, people. Come on down! But before you do, brush up on paradise with this crash course guide to El Ciudad de Awesome.

Bonus: make sure you bypass the right zone on your home security system. Because it really sucks when a cop shows up at 7:04 in the morning thinking that you broke into your parents’ house, especially when you went to sleep four hours before… That’s my bad, Pops.

50) These guys enjoyed their stay.

49) Every so often, a person living south of Red Road will tell you he or she has a home in Coral Gables. This is called “deception.”

48) It is not only appropriate to stare in public, but in fact a pastime for males between the ages of 13 and 87.

47) One of every four drivers has an actual license. Should you slow for a yellow light, expect a front bumper in your backseat.

46) Honking is a sign of affection. The finger is a sign you’re going the speed limit.

45) Joe Robbie Stadium, Pro Player Park, Pro Player Stadium, Dolphins Stadium, Land Shark Stadium, and Sun Life Stadium are all the same thing.

44) For 71 years, Little Havana housed a cathedral called The Orange Bowl. My great grandfather built part of it.

RIP, Old Lady

43) If a 60 year-old man with slicked back hair comes up and says he’s “drivin’ around with my windows down,” congratulations, you’ve just met Dolphins great Jim Mandich. Make sure he doesn’t hit on your mom.

42) Those glamour shots you see on TV aren’t glamour shots. In fact, there’s a good chance the city was having a bad day.

41) General sentiment favors “bottom heavy” over “top heavy,” though it’s common to see both on the same woman.

40) You don’t have to be multilingual, but good luck ordering dinner.

39) “Talking sports” is code for talking Dolphins or Dwyane Wade.

38) If you say to yourself, “that chick looks a third Korean, a third Haitian and half Italian,” there’s a 50-50 chance you hit it on the head.

37) Consecutive “L’s” make the “Y” sound.

36) Civic heroes include Livan Hernandez, Gloria Estefan, Dan Marino, and Elian.

Exactly 10 years and 1 day ago.

35) There’s no such thing as “indoor voice.”

34) Budweiser is still the King, but most prefer El Presidente.

33) Though it looks like free parking, that line of ’88 Monte Carlos is actually somebody’s front yard.

32) If you’re on the beach for longer than 30 minutes without recognizing a celebrity, you need to come out of your cave more often.

31) Should you see a buildup of CNN camera crews at Cafe Versailles accompanied by people dancing in the streets, pull over and join the celebration. Fidel just died.

30) You don’t have to say “Joe’s Stone Crabs.” Joe’s will suffice.

29) The city’s professional baseball team has won two of the last 13 World Series. They play in a football stadium in Broward.

28) To calculate Cuban Time, add 30 minutes to desired times between the hours of 7 a.m. and 7 p.m. Add a full hour otherwise.

27) You’ll dry off eventually, just not between May and August.

26) “Noche Buena” means “Christmas Eve” and, alternatively, “Night of Much Pork.”

25) Everything comes with a wedge of lime.

24) Jaywalking is thought of less as crime than an art form.

23) Rush hour. Daylight. Same thing.

22) The crowds aren’t late arriving per se, they just shoot for early second quarter.

21) Cocaine is actually legal and sells under the street name “cortadito.”

Cuban expresso/liquid lightning

20) You’ll probably need a GPS to get around Coral Gables. The blocks are numbered in 12-point font and ranked by renown of Spanish conquistador.

19) It’s a ‘Cane thing. You wouldn’t understand.

18) Guayaberas make the kind of fashion statement that says, “I’m not trying very hard,” and “I have four more exactly like this in my closet.”

17) The Bagel Emporium is the best Jewish deli in town. Though usually out of bagels, it’s particularly well-stocked with a variety of hungover UM coeds, and an Alex Rodriguez once every four visits.

16) If you do run into Alex Rodriguez at the Bagel Emporium, you don’t have to check the license plate of the $800,000 Mercedes out front (Mom). You can just assume it’s his.

15) The crime isn’t nearly as bad as reputation suggests, but try not to wear jewelry in locales with a “historical” designation.

16) The Publix in South Miami stocks the finest selection of cantaloupes anywhere South of Lincoln Road. Hopefully your home doesn’t catch fire in the early afternoon, because the firefighters will be in Publix checking out the cantaloupes.

15) Cuban cigars are both a sign of good taste and technically against the law.

The good stuff.

14) Should you schedule a tee time at a local golf course, bring a pair of tennis shoes and jean shorts so as not to stand out.

13) Your hips need to move unnaturally to appreciate the local music.

12) Plain Jane

11) Café con leche is in fact leche con café.

10) Crockett and Tubbs aren’t real people, but the phonebook does list a Montana, Antonio (1593 NW 6th Ave).

9) There’s an old saying that “Miami never gets above 90 degrees.” This saying hasn’t been true for 20 years.

8) The women wear form-fitting clothes regardless of whether they have the form.

7) Should you find yourself caught in Hialeah traffic at 5 PM… see you next Tuesday.

6) Typical weekend

Saturday morning

Saturday afternoon

Saturday night

5) Havana, Cuba and Orlando, FL are equidistant.

4) We have Diddy, Madonna, Shaq, J-Lo, D-Wade, Riles, A-Rod… Your celebrities probably need two names.

3) The University of Miami football team went nine years without actually losing a game in Miami, and is generally credited for ending big time college sports in Houston and Washington state. Six and half years after this was published, the program won its fifth national title in two decades.

2) Whatever “they” are, there’s a good chance they aren’t real.

1) People are generally happier.

Have a humid Tuesday.

- Robbie

"Spring Break" and Other Google Trends: The Week in Review, Redux

My people.

oi upaerwunq0489rtya089pehgfp. No, just kidding. I’m totally sober. Please click here to read Bryan Holt’s irreverent commentary on real sports and faux sports. Or simply scroll up, lazy ass.

As I just recently explained to Bryan Holt from my humble abode two blocks down from The U, I forced myself to start this review late Thursday afternoon out of both healthy compulsion and a sense of good time management. Why? You mean other than compulsion and time management? Well, because it’s Spring Break in Miami, and if all goes according to plan tonight, Friday morning will not be the best time to express my coherent (read: any) thoughts on the week that was. And let’s be real, the “week that was” was pretty freaking great. Got to hang with best friends, sip lemonade from a pool chock-full ‘o pretty ladies, bury myself via procrastination under a mounting pile of grad school to-dos. Even got to spend some quality time with the grandparents, something even this hardened heart can’t knock.

Gotta admit: I’m in a pretty good mood. SC’s generating big hits, blog buzz, even a growing Twitter allegiance. Hell, this week alone, we picked up four more followers, which is four more than you picked up (anybody without a Twitter account). Now let’s get down to business so I can hit up The Grove for a dinner of raw fish and vodka spritzers, or as I like to call it, “a man’s meal.”

Just like anywhere else, only 100 times better.

Early this week, The Philadelphia Inquirer’s Stephen A. Smith reported that Allen Iverson was struggling with gambling and alcohol addiction. ESPN then reported Iverson’s response via Twitter:

“To my fans: you all know that my life isn’t perfect. I am going through some very tough times right now, like I am sure that we all do from time to time. However, I will stand tall like always with “rhino” thick skin. Even though I have become use to people saying things about me that aren’t true, it still hurts. I encourage you to continue your ongoing support and I want you to trust that this is another obstacle in my life that, with God’s help I will overcome. God bless you all.”

Terribly sad turn of events for a guy I’ve always pulled for. But here’s what I want to know: how the hell did he get around the 140-character rule?

Mad props for the tight punctuation, Answer.

In an even more tragic story, child star Corey Feldman died this week of an apparent drug overdose.

On Monday, University of Alabama football visited the White House in honor of the team’s 2009 national championship. Head coach Nick Saban gave the president a No. 1 “Obama” jersey, Heisman winner Mark Ingram shook the president’s hand, and Auburn College Republicans Chairman Allison Kajs just threw up in her mouth a little.

Also on Monday, the UConn women’s basketball team broke the record for consecutive wins by defeating Notre Dame amid a wall of well-deserved media hype. To celebrate the game, ESPN and ESPN2 preempted coverage for William and Mary-Old Dominion and Temple-Xavier women, respectively.

From all of us at Sports Casualties: congrats on 71 Coach Geno.

Greatest of all-time, unless you count any men's team.

Bill Clinton expressed his support this week for an initiative that has reduced school shipments of sodas and sugary drinks by 95 percent since 2004. When asked if he’s enjoyed these kinds of beverages from time to time, the former president declared, “I am not going to say this again – I did not have relations with that soft drink.”

Bubba: combating childhood obesity one triple bypass at a time.

It’s been a tough week for Steelers QB Ben Roethlisberger, who looked to match his pair of Super Bowl victories with a second sexual assault case. Big Ben did admit to physical contact with the accuser, but alleged that she slipped and hit her head – hence the hospital visit. Now Milledgeville cops are asking for D.N.A. in what is becoming an increasingly fluid situation.

Week in Review without a dirty joke: like Wrigley without the racial slurs.

During last Friday’s Cavs-Pistons game, Quicken Loans Arena put a Snuggie under the seat of every fan in attendance. Hell, this made me uncomfortable. Can you imagine how The King felt? Surrounded by 20,000 white people in hoods?

Bad job by you, Snuggie.

Now multiply by 20,000. Scary.

In further evidence that Scott Van Pelt’s Ego has killed Scott Van Pelt and hidden the murder weapon, SVP prefaced a question on his radio show to Warriors rookie Stephen Curry with, “In Ryen [Russillo] and myself, you’re talking to two guys that could both play – ball a little bit.”

SVP then dunked all in Steph’s mug and gave the throat-slash gesture to Spike Lee who was across the studio. If you’re keeping track, Van Pelt is currently third in ESPN’s all-time narcissist standings, but within shouting distance of Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann.

Speaking of Olbermann, MSNBC’s Bearer of the Pelosi Flame found himself buried knee-deep in a blogosphere feud with ESPN.com’s Bill Simmons. The two fought over, among other things, who has the bigger social networking following, who is more qualified to use the word “blowhard,” and who is more likely to get fired from his day job.

I speak only for myself – and Bryan – when I say that Sports Casualties backs Simmons 100 percent and will gladly cede this platform should the Sports Guy ever need an outlet to launch more KO invectives.

In related news, SC is considering waging a faux war-of-words with whomever will stoop to our level. The 13 of you who read this will be in on the joke. Everybody else will not read enough to actually be aware of the fake feud, which admittedly presents a logistical problem that we have yet to work out.

Moving to the financial sector, CNBC babe/anchor Melissa Francis tore into the government-backed “Build America Bonds” that U.S. financial companies have exploited to the tune of over $1 billion.

Said Francis, “They’re the definition of a leaky sieve.”

Nothing further to report. Just wanna say kudos to Melissa for using “sieve” apart from “Hurricanes offensive line.”

Always room in the SC for Melissa.

On Thursday’s “Tony Kornheiser Show,” columnist John Feinstein, explaining how high ticket prices persuade fans of Duke and UNC to stick around regardless of whether their teams gets knocked out early in the ACC Tourney, said, “Sure, there are some Carolina fans who get tickets from Florida State fans leaving or Miami fans leaving…”

John, let me stop you right there. There are no University of Miami basketball fans. And even if they did exist, they wouldn’t be caught dead buying tickets to go to Greensboro in the middle of March.

We have South Beach. Enjoy your snowstorm.

Sticking with basketball, media speculation points to a college coaching return for P.J. Carlesimo at Oregon. Given the Ducks recent history of choke jobs, this seems like a good fit.

Tiger Woods this week reportedly turned down a 5-year, $75 million endorsement deal from Irish bookmaker Paddy Power, though you can’t fault the company for trying. I, too, would bet everything on Tiger.

Quick: three individuals form a partnership and agree to divide all profits equally. X invests $9,000, Y invests $7,000 and Z invests $4,000. If the profits are $4,800, how much less does X receive than if the profits were divided in proportion to the amount invested?

Huh? What? Sorry, that was more random and pointless than asking a football player to answer.

I’m short on time. Here’s your buzzer beater. In the words of Livan Hernandez, I low you Meeami.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MVLWsHjVu9Y]

“Are you kidding me, Dave O’Brien!?!”

- Robbie

Mediocrity: It’s a ‘Cane Thing

Dazed and Confused

I was originally going to write about O.J. Mayo, because what better way to forget National Signing Day than to write about the Memphis Grizzlies.

I just got off a 45-minute phone call with the world’s biggest Miami Hurricanes fan. He is also my father.

Points of discussion:

How did Miami fare on National Signing Day?

“I swear, I’m ready to coach this team,” are the first words out of his mouth. This is not a good sign.

I sent him an email earlier that read: “Hey, 18 of our 27 signees are three stars, so we’re extremely well-positioned for four more years of above-averageness!” Apparently he did not think this was funny.

This was one of the greatest pools of talent in Dade County history, he says. “And we land 2 of the top 100,000 guys!”

I think to myself that this is not a national championship-contending ratio.

He asks me if I know anything about Gainesville High’s Kevin Nelson, our top defensive recruit and the No. 3 inside linebacker prospect in the country.

Supposedly he has “‘tude,” like Ray Lewis I-will-be-the-best-to-ever-play-here kind of ‘tude. I remind him that wide receivers Lance Leggett and Sam Shields had this ‘tude. They did not fare as well as Ray Ray.

Success: Just Out of Reach

My father suggests dejectedly that maybe this is the blue-collar class that brings us all the way back.

Immediately, my thoughts turn to RB Damien Berry, our best offensive player and the kind of “blue-collar” guy Pops refers to.

The only way Berry can get consistent carries this year is if he has pictures on head coach Randy Shannon, and even then Shannon would probably find a way to burn the pictures along with all of his remaining timeouts.

It’s a numbers game, Dad says. A couple of our five offensive linemen – two of them four-stars – will pan out. They have to. Our O-line is a sieve.

This word “sieve” is a synonym for “colander” and “strainer.” I have only heard it used in reference to Miami’s offensive line.

My father says that if we hit on some of these linemen, highly touted redshirt freshman RB Lamar Miller should be really good for us.

I tell him that if Lamar Miller is as good as we think he is, Randy Shannon will promptly move him to fullback.

We discuss the firing of defensive line coach Clint Hurt and his new replacement, Kentucky’s Rick Petri. This move lit up the message boards – they have decided that Petri is the guy that finally turns the D-line around.

My father and I conclude that, hey, the guy’s been a defensive line coach his whole life. He must be really good at it.

Maybe Randy is starting to feel the pressure. He’s firing guys. He knows his job security hinges on our “140-pound quarterback” staying healthy.

Then again, I offer, if Jacory Harris breaks in two, at least Randy will have an excuse for sucking.

Is Pace quarterback Stephen Morris – #49 QB overall, 3 star – the real deal? The real deal compared to what?

My fathers says that if he’s not the guy, we’re in bad shape. I clarify, continued bad shape.

A long, long time ago/ I can still remember

Best case scenario, Harris stays healthy for two more years and then we start a redshirt freshman QB in 2012. We’ve been in this position before under Larry Coker. How could we not have learned our lesson? 

Pops says we’re going to be hard-pressed to win 10 games this year. I tell him he’s really going out on a limb and reiterate my long-running prediction: 7-6, Emerald Bowl victory.

He says it’s all relative. He was listening to Bay Area radio (he lives in San Francisco) today and fans are in meltdown mode because the Giants won’t resign Lincecum, the GM is a bum, and they haven’t won a World Series since 1954, as the New York Giants.

I say, yes, it’s all relative, and then I ask him who will win a title first, the Giants or the Canes.

We both agree. Giants.

Will the Hurricanes build an on-campus football stadium during our lifetimes?

He is cautiously optimistic that the Canes will have a 40,000-seat venue in the heart of Coral Gables in the next 25 years. However, he is also cautiously optimistic that he will live to be 104, which leaves us considerable wiggle room.

We ask each other what it would take for UM President Donna Shalala to spend real money on a head coach. Filling seats in our empty stadium would more than compensate for the expense. What are we missing?

Shalala wants to make the university into a premier research institution, which is fitting – because when you think Miami, you think South Beach, Dwyane Wade, P-Diddy and premier research institutions.

Would my father be a better head football coach than Randy Shannon?

Actually, we’ve been having this conversation for a full two years now. He says that since Shalala is such a tightwad when it comes to financing athletics, he would take a drastic pay cut should the position become available to him.

President Clinton: Not a UM Booster

I say things could be worse. An interstate rival could have landed the No. 1 class.

We talk about linebacker Arthur Brown’s potential transfer to Kansas State. My father says Brown just doesn’t have it.

I tell him that before I come to this conclusion, I would like to see him play just one meaningful down. Just. One. I tell him that it is quite possible that if every talent scout in the country had him ranked as the top defensive prospect coming out of high school, it is quite possible that these talent scouts are right and our talent guru, Randy Shannon, is wrong.

I say that whatever “it” is, Brown must have “it” more than linebackers Darryl Sharpton or Romeo Davis had “it,” no?

Not according to the coaching staff, says Pops. Arthur looks lost in practice – more lost than Sharpton, who made a career out of lost.

We speculate about what this looks like – being more lost than Darryl Sharpton. Is Arthur running in the opposite direction on run plays? Or is it worse? Does Arthur need help putting his pads on just to get to practice?

We turn to Phil Mickelson, because on days like these, we need something to cheer us up. The analysts on the Golf Channel suggest that Phil has toned up. He no longer has a soft midsection, which will help his swing plain.

My father is quick to shoot down this notion, citing Phil’s “bra fat” as evidence.

We stay on Phil because, you know, it’s been a rough day if you’re a Canes fan. So my father comments on Phil’s “fairy-ass white shoes and white pants.”

My dad describes a man he saw on the streets of San Francisco today holding a sign that read, “Squid Party.” He tells me that it is more likely that he will one day hold a sign that says “Squid Party” before he wears “fairy-ass white shoes and white pants and a white belt.”

The Old Lady, put down

We finish our conversation by talking about Joe’s Stone Crabs, the ESPN coverage on South Beach, Warren Sapp on “PTI” and the giant hole in the ground where the Orange Bowl used to be.

We talk about Jeremy Shockey and Jonathan Vilma – how cool they are. And we talk about the four Miami alums that made the All-Decade team.

These things give us solace, or at least remind us of the glory days.

This is what it is like to be a Hurricanes fan on Feb. 3, 2010. This is what we mean by “All about The U.”

- Robbie