Jul 23, 2008 | 8:44 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while again recommending Barbecue Inn for your greater summer time chicken-fried dining pleasure.
Share with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
The Big 12 head honchos have come and gone from their big yack fest in St. Louis. The usual drill of coaches and select players in the midst of a three-day session of mindless and harmless Q&A to launch the season.
The Bloggorrhea has one big question for Mike Leach, just weeks from the most-hyped fall in the history of Texas Tech football.
Why, Mr. Leach, leave in Lubbock the Red Raiders’ resident record-setting quarterback and reigning first-team All-American all-dazzling wide receiver?
What sort of sense does that make?
With throngs of baited media throngs, from both near and far, at your service, waiting and willing to regurgitated and rejoice in all-things Red Raider, Leach elects to relegate the stars of the show invisible, secluded in student housing.
Are you kidding me?
Again, the most anticipated Tech season, ever. Top-10 expectations, not in west Texas, but practically coast-to-coast. 10-and-oh anticipation with a home turf win over hated-UT, storming into Norman undefeated to shoot out for Big 12 South, perhaps leaving with a first-ever slot in the conference title game, maybe a first-ever Big 12 title, first-ever BCS appearance. Maybe maybe.
And Leach lays out for that sort of potential groundbreaking by leaving borderline Heisman candidates Graham Harrell and Michael Crabtree alone in Lubbock, turning his back on two tons of invaluable hard-to-get national exposure for his hard-to-get to school, for his often hard-up for respect program, for Harrell, for Crabtree.
Are you kidding me?
Techsters are forever moaning groaning whining about step-child status within the great state behind Texas and Texas A&M. Especially A&M, even after the Red Raiders routinely barbecue the Aggies’ backside yet somehow are still slapped with secondary status when the programs are weighed and measured side-by-side. So what then is the Tech nation response to Leach’s lame tactics to self-promote?
Tech hasn’t enjoyed a senior-returning quarterback like Harrell since Rodney Allison, hasn’t salivated for a lights-out wide out like Crabtree – ever. And the redshirt sophomore is leaping from Lubbock to the NFL the nanosecond this next season is complete. How can Leach not wish to capitalize on their last Red Raider round-up, having them talk-up the genius of Tech’s star wars offense of mass destruction?
How?
The Bloggorrhea has long-enjoyed Leach for his fast-break full-frontal, seak and destroy, method to madness tactics, his unusual if oddball candor, his failure to worship at the alter of sacred cow conference commissioners and stuffed-suited poohbahs, his detached nonchalance when dealing with less informed and lightweight media types.
But his failure here to seize an open and unadulterated forum to pump the program and his two super-sized headliners is mindnumbing.
Any upcoming slights this season from outside forces who neglect Tech's potential rise to never before seen tops, who fail to duly note Tech's due - not nearly the slap Leach applied to own program.
Jul 15, 2008 | 7:32 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recommending the Porch Swing Pub for quality liquid refreshment.
Enjoy with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
When summer time is not about liquid refreshment, or hot time hard ball, it’s often about movies. And music. And movies remembered as much, if not more, for the music, as the names above the marquee.
The Bloggorrhea taking a break from the sports beat, and here with films to revisit, for the best-ever soundtracks, regardless of scripts the plots the twists the characters. In descending order. No rock operas, no disco, no follin' around. And cheaper by the dozen.
Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
Honorable Mention, for unreleased soundtrack.
Round Midnight (1986)
Honorable Mention, for cool. Herbie Hancock’s jazz tracks and Oscar-nominated Dexter Gordon as American sax man in Paris.
This Is Spinal Tap (1984)
Quintessential mock-rock-umentary. And the cast of heavy haired metalists actually played. And rocked.
Viva Las Vegas (1964)
The King will always be The King. Especially when in tandem with Ann-Margret, even if crooning The Yellow Rose of Texas.
Rushmore (1989)
Less-than-big hits from big Brits and other charmers. And filmed at St. John's in Houston.
Rock 'N' Roll High School (1979)
Never to be confused with a high school musical. Rather, punk's Fab Four of Forest Hills, Noo Yawk's Ramones banging the likes of Blitzkrieg Bop and eight other signature tunes.
National Lampoon's Animal House (1979)
Minus the title tune, of course. Otherwise, it’s Sam Cooke and Bobby Lewis, and Lloyd Williams’ Shout and Shama Lama Ding Dong. You’re signing it right now.
Dazed and Confused (1993)
Crank-up Alice Cooper's School's Out and assorted other 1970s guitar-rock anthems that sum the last day/first day of school/summer.
Pulp Fiction (1994)
Taratino's hand-picked stash of 1960s surf, R&R and R&B. And Girl, You'll Be a Women Soon, Urge Overkill's delicious Neil Diamond redux.
Superfly (1972)
Curtis Mayfield's masterpiece punctuated by Freddie's Dead.
The Big Chill (1983)
Motown classics dominate with Three Dog Night, without Creedence and Steve Miller's Quicksilver Girl.
High Fidelity (2000)
Tunes to contemplate the top five musical crimes perpetrated by Stevie Wonder in the 1980s and 90s, to determine if it is in fact unfair to criticize a formally great artist for his latter day sins, to decide if it is better to burn out or simply fade away. The Damed, The Flying Burrito Brothers, The Velvet Underground. Elvis's Mystery Train. Shipbuilding by another Elvis. Costello. Throw in the Kinks and Austin's psychedelic rockers 13th Floor Elevators. Tough to top.
Goodfellas (1990)
1950s doo-wop to Darin to Derek and The Dominoes, even if it's only the piano exit. Won't find Gimme Shelter on the commercial release, nor Monkey Man and Magic Bus. But there's Cream and Aretha.
Hard Day's Night (1964)
No explanation needed. The first and still only truly great rock and roll musical and truly underrated as a film. Really.
Any questions?
Jul 9, 2008 | 4:34 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recommending Café Montross for a summer treat of moules frites, or mussels and fries if you prefer.
The Bloggorrhea prefers either with a tangy aioli. And a shivering Duvel, or Stella Artois, when pils is the pref.
And always enough crusty French bread to soak up the broth. Rather tasty.
Very little left in the Astros summer that The Bloggorrhea would care to stomach.
The rag-taggers approach the All-Star break, and to repeat a well worn rant – “They are, who we thought they were.”
Except for Roy Oswalt, not near the career-best season The Bloggorrhea was forecasting. And Michael Bourn, not a sliver of the top-of-the-order catalyst counted on from Kissimmee. But Brad Lidge should find ample investment opportunities for that $37 million that he’ll bank over the next three years. And his next blown save is coming, when exactly?
Back to Minute Maid’s bad news bunch: “The are, who we thought they were.”
An outfit that The Bloggorrhea believed at the break of spring training would lose as often as they won, would win and lose routinely in 9-7 fashion. Simply too many flaws, particularly in the starting rotation, behind the plate and at the top of the order. Too many low-on-fuelers asked to pump more than they can provide. Too few high risers infusing the gaps and voids with more than just “want.”
So, why the collective hardline angst in the midst of Houston hardball’s long hot summer?
They are, who we thought they were.
Berkman has rebounded from his worst Astro season to legit starting All-Star status. His May will live as the best month of his career, a 30-day stint on fantasy island - .461 average, 12 homers, 33 runs batted in, five stolen bases.
Lee is delivering as advertised, $100m not to chase fly balls, but to hammer long fly balls, and drive in runs. His roughly .300/75 RBIs at the break should bring few complaints.
Explain why exactly Lee should be moved for prospects? Why relinquish that sort of known for maybes and possible potential? Trade the given, given the already shockingly low level of big league production on this roster, with the embarrassing low level of talent on the come?
In a word, no.
Keep Lee, Berkman, Oswalt, Pence as the core, keep at least some reason to visit the ball yard, admit and gulp at the blatantly misguided and short-sided personnel blunders of the last five years, concede that there is no immediate spontaneous fix, and put in motion that time-tested essentials that serve as the bedrock of any successful sporting franchise. Stop skimping on scouting and draft-signing and player development. Stop the all too predictable knee-jerk mid-summer firings within the coaching ranks and bi-yearly managerial blowouts. Cease sacrificing the likes of Jim Hickey for strictly cosmetic reasons when his value has been proven through performance and the team's future performance is compromised. Check out Tampa Bay's pitching staff this season compared to season's past (the bump is not just talent). Compare the collective ERA of the bullpen so far in relation to 2007.
The current cast of Houston hardballers are as professional a lot as can be found in the big leagues. There will be no quit in the clubhouse. Playing through to the bitter end of the dreadfully long season will result in 79-80-81 wins, without the least hint of contention since Labor Day.
They are, who we thought they were.
Now pass the mussels. And the cold one. What are you having?
Jun 25, 2008 | 8:08 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recommending Bubba’s Texas Burger Shack for your greater dining pleasure.
Enjoy the best a buffalo can provide with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
The Bloggorrhea is feeling the draft. The NBA Draft. And somehow, some way, feeling that the Rockets are operating from a better perch than the number 25 pick in the first round would suggest.
Why?
This is the NBA Draft. Where the dumb and dunderhead happens. Where smarter than a fifth grader rarely happens.
Daryl Morey and his scouting staff can no doubt anticipate 15-pick value even if they remain planted-in-the-paint at the end of round one.
Why?
Because prior to Rocketball's scheduled proclamation, at least 10 picks will be of the brain-dead D-league until death variety. Misfits and misguided evaluations from their lodge brothers will reward the Rockets even if their draft possession is as stagnant as a deep-clock LeBron possession.
Less than 24-hours before the Bulls start the stampede and confusion appears to reign rim-to-rim. Never a shock with the chronic less-than-lovable Clippers and Grizzlies picking from prime position, with the dubious Wizards, Bobcats, Cavaliers, and Magic in the mid-round mix, with the aimless Sonics choosing not once but twice.
And if any outfit can mangle the third overall pick – guys and dolls, welcome in Kevin McHale and the toothless and clueless Timberwolves.
The Rockets can simply bunker the war room, ride out the predictable wave of paputrid (pathetic x putrid) personnel moves from higher-ups and wind-up with a Brandon Rush-sort. Who’s up for some Chinese take-out.
The rule of draft night should read: Right player, right coach, right role, right franchise fit trumps mad measurables and the puke-inducting “up-side potential” pronouncement. And rarely enforced.
The Bloggorrhea doesn’t enjoy coast-to-coast and up-close-and-personal scouting review and evaluation, isn’t privy to Morey’s highly developed massively parallel computing environment and other helpful metrics and rubrics. But The Bloggorrhea is banking on the following.
Rose is the rock-sure safe top-shelf pick.
Beasley is not necessarily the lock at number two, thanks to an immature side side-by-side with his greater talent/higher ceiling comparison with Rose.
Kevin Love is vastly under-valued. Should go top-five, perhaps will last past top-10. Russell Westbrook is over-pumped even in league gone fast and small. Texas-ex D.J. measures smaller (if that’s possible) than predecessor T.J. but brings instincts and IQ that can’t be coached. Mayo won’t match the promise of 8th-grade prodigy projection but will serve as solid pro. Neither Lopez will emerge past backup/borderline bust-out status.
Of the non-premium young big men from the great state, Darrell Arthur will stomp metroplex mate Anthony Randolph. Both will dwarf Texas Aggie DeAndre Jordan, short term career and long.
Four-year senior Courtney Lea from Western Kentucky will out-perform at least 10 players taken before him. He has the professional game and ethic that the Rockets could plug directly into their locker room and rotation and receive immediate jolt.
Do they have an interest? No idea. No war room in the Association worth a ten-day contract would reveal any true intentions. And the final countdown spilling into D-day brings out charter members of the Liar’s Club like no other time. And it should. Which is why the wide world of mock drafts are not worth the bandwidth they occupy.
Count on this – the Rockets will leave Thursday night with an asset, for next season. Details to come.
Jun 11, 2008 | 6:09 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recommending Lucky's Pub for quality liquid refreshment.
Enjoy with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
Two tall Texan talents leave the NFL on the same day with decidedly different tales. Michael the maven of sacks, a lock for the Hall of Fame. Benson a bust of a back, on and off the field, a shameful example of wasted opportunity.
Michael Strahan, pride of Westbury High School and then Texas Southern, exits as a defensive giant, arguable the Giants all-time defensive end.
Cedric Benson, one of the great state’s great whiz kid runners and a Texas Longhorn back second only to Earl and Ricky. But as a Chicago Bear a nasty and nonsensical habit of running amok on the streets. And on the waters.
Strahan retires strictly on his own terms, with nothing left in the tank after 15 seasons in the violent trenches, with seven Pro Bowls, the single-season record for quarterback traps, a glittering Super Bowl ring in one of the super duper upsets in league history. No amount of money, no ego stroke, was incentive enough to return.
No sympathy or empathy or explanation can defuse Benson’s apparent career death wish. No one with two brain cells working simultaneously could slump to such rank behavior over a few short weeks – speeding through a Chicago construction zone at more than 70 mph, boating on Lake Austin while intoxicated then resisting arrest, running a red light in the wee hours of an Austin morning and driving while drunk.
Sad Ced flunking tests for sobriety and intelligence in equally alarming rates. Already suffering under the lable of under-achiever thanks to less than four yards per carry since tabbed by the Bears with the fourth pick of the 2005 draft.
And then an off-season spent operating behind the wheel while juiced while operating with the thinnest line of margins under the watchful eye of the NFL’s not-so-sudden no-tolerance policy for knuckle-headedness.
Step into the way-back machine. Cedric Benson racking yards and touchdowns and state titles like few in a state that spits out blue chip running back like few others.
There’s Benson as a 15-year-old sophomore at Midland Lee, piling up a 2,000 yard season, with 30 touchdowns and a 5A championship game rout by a half hundred...
Here’s Benson a year later bamming for more than 3,500 yards and 51 TDs and a second runaway run for Lee to the state crown...
Over there Benson as a senior schoolboy and 255 yards and five touchdowns to cement the 5A three-peat...
His final high school chart - more than 8,400 career rushing yards and 127 trips to the end zone.
In the Mount Rushmore of high school running backs from Texas, you can effectively argue that Benson belongs next to Earl Campbell, Eric Dickerson, Doak Walker.
The four-year ramblings at UT much more of the same. As good a goal line runner in the history of the ‘Horns. His 5,540 yards left him sixth on the game’s all-time rushing list and second at Texas only to Ricky Williams. And as it turns, Ricky’s very equal away from the pads and helmets, whether dreadlocks or self-destruction.
Benson cut loose by the Bears, an organization cutting its losses before the next brush with the law. Sad Ced’s next move with his attorney and a bail bondsman no doubt on speed dial.
Strahan simply awaits the call to the Hall.
Jun 7, 2008 | 4:56 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recommending Brenner’s for your greater dining pleasure.
Ask for David. Enjoy with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
Right around this time 13 years ago Junior Cruz was enjoying one of the great moments of his baseball life. The Mariners had just taken him third overall in the 1995 draft and both were no doubt charting a multi-All-Star sort of career for the All-American from Rice.
Cruz was drafted behind only Darin Erstad and Ben Davis, and ahead of the likes of Kerry Wood and Todd Helton, Geoff Jenkins and Roy Halladay, a high school flame-thrower from Kingwood (Andy Yount) and one-time hotshot quarterback at UT (Shea Morenz).
Now Cruz’s major league days are likely done at age 34, released by his hometown Astros. He was hitting a shade over .100 with one RBI and only one extra base hit in 49 at-bats and 38 games as the fifth outfielder.
Cruz told Mark Berman in an only-on-Fox interview (click the sports tab here at MyFoxHouston) before his final exit from the Astros clubhouse there’s a good chance this was his last rodeo.
“Maybe this is it for me.”
Junior Cruz had earned the roster spot this spring training, not through his father’s seemingly lifelong connection to the club and tight friendship with manager Cecil Cooper, but through performance. But that performance and production didn’t continue into the summer. Limited chances come with the territory, so that’s no excuse. Look what draft-mate Erstad has provided the Astros so far. And a struggling team needing every single advantage and edge to maintain reasonable odds at contention made a necessary move.
The 1995 draft day high-fives for the Cruz family no doubt seem like only last week, the same eyes-in-the-sky, sky-is-the-limit emotions flashed days ago by Second Baptist pitcher Ross Seaton and Conroe-ex Andrew Cashner. And so many more.
And in a hiccup, the hardball for Cruz is over.
Cruz was moved by the Mariners to Toronto just 49 games into his rookie season with Seattle. He worked the Blue Jay way for 69 homers in back-to-back seasons 2000-01. He would eventually be a part of eight other organizations in a 12-year nomadic journey through big boy baseball. The career totals include 204 homers and 624 RBI. Not quite what would have been expected and projected more a decade ago, but a more than respectable stay.
Cruz and class always proved synonymous. From Bellaire to Rice to living the big league dream. From the best of the days to the final days. And The Bloggorrhea extends nothing but the best to one of the best this city has seen rise from its ranks.
May 31, 2008 | 5:22 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recommending Artista for your greater dining pleasure.
Enjoy with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
The great state’s great reputation as football first and football foremost is a burned out cliché that burns as deeply the Friday Night Lights of generations past and present.
The elite basketballers emerging from Texas, from grass roots through AAU to high school hip-hip and cross-over, routinely rank hightop to hightop with that from any other on the hoop horizon. And have for roughly the last decade. And the will continue to be featured in college programs near and far, major mid-major and modest, coast-to-coast.
A quick review of the current campus hardball playoffs again confirms that the baseball skills nurtured within these borders is equal if not superior to any from any corner of the U-S of A.
Houston and Rice. Texas and Texas A&M. Texas Southern and Sam Houston. Dallas Baptist and TCU and LSU and Tulane and UNO and Oklahoma and Oklahoma State all in the regional round of the College World Series pursuit. All fueled in doses large or small by tall Texas talent running every bit as deep and as prized as Texas crude. Well, almost.
The upcoming major league draft may not feature a Rocket or a Beckett or a Berkman or even a Jay Bruce at the top of the board, perhaps not a Kazmir or Crawford for quick impact. But without question the state will again be well represented.
Texas Tech’s Roger Kieschnick and UT’s Jordan Danks (brother of White Sox pitcher John) are ranked in the top 100 position players available.
Second Baptist right-hander Ross Seaton, Rice’s Bryan Price, Baytown Sterling’s Brett Marshall, Klein Collins’Austin Dicharry are all rated among the top 100 pitchers.
Just below that first tier are Klein’s Adam Smith, UT’s Kyle Russell (Tomball), Rice’s Cole St. Clair, Kempner’s Kyle Winkler, and UH’s Wes Musick.
Not quite in that mix but certainly worth watching in the following years – a second kid K from Collins (Sam Stafford), a second primo performer from Sterling (Hunter Cervenka), Westside’s Taylor Wall, Lamar’s Anthony Rendon and the Rice duo of Adam Zornes and Aaron Luna.
Here’s a trend to consider regardless of how the next round-by-rounds play out on draft day.
In the last 11 drafts, the big league outfits have invested 18 number one picks in pitchers with direct Houston ties. From Matt Anderson and a $1.55 million dollar bonus for number one overall in 1997, to Jeff Austin ($2.7 million bonus) to Kip Wells to Kenny Baugh to Joe Savery ($1.4 million bonus).
From three in the same draft in 2003 (Ryan Wagner, David Aardsma, Brad Sullivan and bonuses worth $4.1m ) and again in 2006 (Brad Lincoln, Kyle Drabek, Kyle McCullough and bonuses worth $5.2m) to three from one rotation in the first eight picks of the same draft (Phil Humber @ $3.7m, Jeff Niemann @ $3.2m, Wade Townsend in 2004) to the same pitcher (Townsend) taken in the first round in consecutive drafts.
Since the Brewers reached out for Texas Aggie and Bellaire-ex Kelly Wunsch in 1993 and dropped $400,000 in his pockets, 24 pitchers with direct Houston connections have gone in the first round. And that’s just the round one tally. And just pitchers. And just Houston. You get the idea.
The lights that shine and discover and reveal promise and potential, from good to great, from the great state, burn season to season and night to night, not just Friday nights. And have for some time.
May 24, 2008 | 2:23 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring and hoping for a safe holiday weekend to one and all. And at the same time always recomending The Corkscrew for quality liquid refreshment.
Enjoy with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
Don Shula. One coach synonymous with one word more than any other - winning.
Jim Brown. Two syllables that merit the ultimate two-word salute even more than four decades after his football finale - the best.
Don Shula and Jim Brown. Together and separate, Sunday night on Fox Sports Xtra. Rare one-on-one visits with two icons who are arguably the best-ever at their respecdtive NFL positions. And we talk with them both for reasons that have nothing to do with the NFL, past or present. Appointment holiday weekend viewing.
Also on the Suday night menu, what's wrong with Roy, as in Oswalt. What's up with Yao, as in Ming, as in post injury and pre-Beijing.
Sports Xtra after Nascar fun and frolic. On Fox. And enjoy the Russian River Pinot Noir. Before, during, after.
Also, remember the monthly Astros quiz here at MyFoxHouston. Click the sports tab. Fresh topic each and every month. In June, test yourself and discover everything Berkman. Bet The Bloggorrhea beats you.
May 20, 2008 | 5:47 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recommending the Amazon Grill for your greater dining pleasure.
Enjoy one of the fine eateries from the Cordua dynasty with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
Time for The Bloggorrhea's Ten For Tuesday, the once a week (Tuesday) 10 spot (perfect or otherwise) of views and reviews that will change your life as you know it. Not guaranteed.
ONE. Sunday's Fox Sports Xtra included Mark Berman breaking Biggio to St. Thomas High School. The Monday media follow of "word is," "reports kinda sorta are," "internet rumors suggest" was typically predictably humurous. Sunday night the story was definitive and any reference there after was sloppy seconds. The decision an obvious no-brainer for St. Thomas on the heels of consecutive straight titles. There is no price/value attached to the exposure and profile generated by direct association with future Hall of Famer and one of the city's sporting Mount Rushmore. And The Bloggorrhea fully expects Biggio to operate as head baseball coach with full intregity to the position and the school, rather than riding strictly as figure head. He was a daily presence on campus throughout this past season while serving as volunteer presence, from water and prepping fields to individual instruction without an ounce of grandstanding. He played at Seton Hall and has played a significant presence in the St. Vincent parrish for years so he owns a definate feel and comfort for the environment and its demands. And without question the opportunity to coach his son is the over-riding reason for the committment. And if Biggio stays only as long as Conor's high school days, Craig and the school benefit in ways that cannot be calculated.
TWO. The Bloggorrhea's eyes for the big leagues has rarely seen a 30-day swing comparable to Berkman's April 30-May 30. The raw numbers are staggering - 47 hits in 102 at bats (includeing a scorching stretch of 32-52). And 19 walks and 12 home runs and 33 runs batted in. That adds to a .461 batting average, a .537 on-base percentage, a .912 slugging percentage. And five stolen bases. Seriously. Berkman swiping five bases. In six tries. And the best part of Berkman's best-ever stretch was Berkman's day-to-day ackowledgement that 32-52 could just as soon be followed by 2-32. He's that sort of realist. And he'll meet and greet the eventual down swing (so to speak) with the same clubhouse, dugout, first base presence that he brings regardless of how the at bats result. Sanity without pomposity is the Berkman brand. And that part of his personality is every bit as refreshing and impressive as the stats from a 30-day swing (so to speak) on fantasy island.
THREE. Roy Oswalt leaves in the seventh inning of his 10th start with some sort of groin something. May/may not miss the next scheduled start. Regardlesss, Roy O is all too often Roy Out. Is the rotation foundation piece entering the McGrady/Yao Ming territory of perpetual health limbo? Just asking.
FOUR. The NFL owners shun Houston and vote the 2012 Super Bowl to Indianapolis. And the sun rises in the east. With a new pleasure palace in place, hyper bowl to Hoosierland was a lock stock dead-bolt lock. More to the point, The Bloggorrhea doubts Reliant with ever again host the big rodeo. Not with Jerry Jones just hours away and soon going on board with the opulant Jerry Jones play pen, coupled with the persuasive Jerry Jones pitch of a reguarly scheduled North Texas appearence pouring unmatched mega dollar after mega dollar into NFL deep pockets and therefore why Long Star stop anywhere else. Can see the NFL poohbahs unofficially eventually agreeing to a semi-SB rotation of Miami, New Orleans, Jonesville, Phoenix with assorted stages up for annual bid.
FIVE. Just as The Bloggorrhea predicted, the reigning NBA champs rebound from down 0-2 in the playoff set with NOLA. First, two home court wins to even the set. Finally a Game Seven series deciding verdict down on the bayou. Just as The Bloggorrhea layed out before the fact. Just saying. And of course, Robert Horry contributes with timely long-range bombing. Robert Horry practically earning his yearly payout by popping when the Spurs most require. Again. And ever wonder what the likes of Todd Day, Clarence Weatherspoon and Adam Keefe are up these days? Just three of the sorts selected before the Rockets grabbed Horry at No. 11 in the 1992 draft. How long since those respective careers died down? What careers, even. And Horry still firing away, now against his one-time Lakers in the Western Final.
SIX. Speaking of the Spurs, Dennis Lindsey may be a San Antonio short-timer. Lindsey supposedly a possible fill for the general manager void in Atlanta. Lindsey appeared heir apparent to the Rockets g-m throne before Leslie Alexander opted for out of the box Daryl Morey. Lindsey landed down the interstate to aid and abet while learning a new way of NBA doings and could be rewarded with more than whatever playoff returns pay out.
SEVEN. The NBA draft order will shortly be determined. Regardless of how the picking order plays out, the various mocks all rate and rank A&M freakish freshman DeAndre Jordan in the top dozen. Not that the various mocks are routinely worth their broadband width and worth, but no doubt Jordan will project the same after various pre-picking workouts and therefore will remain in the draft pool. Just as The Bloggorrhea not so boldly predeicted. In March.
EIGHT. The 'Horns may have been in the mix but nevertheless miss-out on Devin Ebanks, the last remaining primo unsigned hoop prospect. The 6-9 slasher scorer opted out of his verbal commit to Indiana and now it's headed to West Virginia. Bob Huggins hasn't lost the touch.
NINE. Jim Brown hasn't registered an NFL carry since 1965. Yet his mere mention continues to resonate and impact beyond fields and Halls of Fame. Sunday night on Sports Xtra a one-on-one visit with still perhaps the greatest football player of all-time. Jim Brown details his latest efforts that he believes dwarf any accomplishment from his football career.
TEN. And You Can Quote Me: "When the going gets tough, the tough get crazy." Much preferable to merely get going, don't you think?
May 6, 2008 | 7:06 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recommending Churrascos for your greater Mother's Day dining pleasure.
Go ahead. Spurge. Moms are the most underrated. She deserves it.
Time for Ten For Tuesday, the once a week (Tuesday) 10 spot (perfect or otherwise) of views and reviews that will change your life as you know it. Not guaranteed.
ONE. One year ago today, soon-to-be 45-year-old Roger Clemens is once again a Yankee. For a prorated $28 million. Pumping his first from the Steinbrenner box.
The quote to remember: "Make no mistake about it. I've come back to do what they only know how to do here with the Yankees, and that's to win a championship. Anything else is a failure."
Hmm. Bank balance aside, stamp that less-than-triumphant Rocket return with a capital "F." And failure has since encased Clemens' personal life in a way that applies to no other athlete, any time, any sport, short of O.J.-like antics or Michael Vick incarceration.
Sad in so many ways. And so avoidable.
TWO. Ten years ago today, Roger had to make room for another Long Star flame-thrower, at the expense of your Houston hardball heroes. Wrigley Field, 6 May 1998, 20-year-old Cubbie Kerry Wood whiffed and whiplashed the Astros for 20 strikeouts in just his fifth major league start to tie Clemens' single-game record.
The next "Kid K" rings as many strikeouts in one big league afternoon as years he had spent on the planet.
The quote to remember, from then-Cubs manager and 24-year-old baseball man Jim Riggleman: "That game was one for the memory banks. The best I've ever seen pitched by anyone."
And since, nothing for Woods but injuries, comebacks and setbacks. And, yet, for some inexplicable reason, Kerry still carries an awe about him inversely proportional to his career results. All thanks to May 1998.
THREE. The Bloggorrhea believes the major league monster marathon doesn't quite merit full frontal attention until roughly June 1. Before then, it's more monitor than micro analysis. So far, to steal a phrase from deposed Dennis Green, the Astros "are who we thought they were." Except for Roy Oswalt, who owns but one Oswalt-esque start in seven, is allowing more hits than innings pitched and more than five runs per nine innings. Yet still has three wins and but two losses. Otherwise, even with Lee and Pence rather pedestrian, this appears to be the break-even bunch bashing the ball all over the ball yard that The Bloggorrhea expected at the break of spring training.
FOUR. The Rockets, RIP. But The Bloggorrhea is here to praise rather than bury, after they are buried after the first round of postseason for the sixth straight time since last winning a playoff series. That would be 1997. The obvious - in Rick Adelman's first coaching season in Houston, in Daryl Morey's first call-the-shots season anywhere, with zero impact from Francis, with Yao out the final two months, with the weakest on-paper personel in the playoff party, the Rockets match the third-best regular season in franchise history and take Utah to six games in a series NO ONE expected or predicted they would win. Oh, and along the way, they bomb and blitz and scortch through a 22-game win streak that is simply the second-best in the history of the Association. That's a pretty good season.
FIVE. But neither Leslie Alexander nor any other serious member of Rocketball is remotely content. Nor should they be. The critical off-season evauluation centers on the durability of the tag-team partners. Together Yao Ming and Mr. McGrady have yet to finish a full regular-seaon injury-free. In four tries. Four seasons together have proven what they are and what they are not as foundation pieces, and most importantly they are not physically reliable. Next season the two will dunk roughly $36 million of the salary cap. McGrady's contract has two years remaining for roughly $44 million. Yao goes for three and $49 million, give or take a yen. Given that financial commitment, the key question, how does the organization continue to effectively build around two elite but somewhat fragile talents knowing that 81+ games for each is unlikely. That's a pretty good question. Daryl?
SIX. Other supreme court developments - the Mavericks are done in current form as an eilte team. Just two years ago they were planning a world championshipparade in Dallas two wins too early. One year ago they were a 67-win regular season juganaunt. Now not exactly a have-not but one with declining dividends. Rick Carilse is a rather uninspired choice in relief of Avery Johnson who needed to go despite the glossy win-loss record. The Little General turned Napoleon fueled his final days in Dallas. And his current interview tour is nothing more than window dressing. He's not the primo head honcho you're lead to believe. Meantime, the resident champs will rally to win the semifinal showdown with NOLA. Not every series deficit is crated equally. The Spurs have looked sluggish at the start in this set, but The Bloggorrhea sees a recovery on San Antonio home court, and then a Game Seven win down on the bayou from down 0-2.
SEVEN. LlSU finally rids the program of problem child Ryan Perrilloux. What took so long. Oh, signature and creative athletic talent. At the quarterback position. Works everytime. But this time, even game-breaking create in the pocket potential not enough to prevent Perrilloux from breaking Les Miles' back with a long series of not-so-creative off-the-field nonsense. Good riddance. To no surprise whatsoever, Ryan doesn't have to wait long for a reprieve. Jacksonville State, with former Arkansas head honcho Jack Crowe, has indicated there's an immediate opening. And without sitting out a transfer season. Perrilloux should fit in with Jacksonville State. The 2007 starter was kicked off the team after the season for violating team rules. Mack Brown more than gratefull to have had Colt McCoy winging the last two seasons in lieu of Perrilloux who pulled-out of his verbal for UT and bolted instead to the Bengals.
EIGHT. Posted earlier, but in the event you missed, and shame if you did, the next lineup for Austin City Limits. The Bloggorrhea all in on - Beck, Robert Plant/Alison Krause (sort of a George Bush/Greenpeace nonsensical combo that actually works quite well), Foo Fighters, Jenny Lewis, Neko Case, Nicole Adkins and the Sea, Vampire Weekend, Massacoustics on name only, American Bang, and of course, Asleep At The Wheel.
NINE. If you aren't riveted by the Stanley Cup skate, particuarly Kid Crosby with the Penquins and the four overtimes with Dallas and San Jose to determine next for Detroit Rock City, you are missing more than you know. Make amends.
TEN. And You Can Quote Me: "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro." Unsure of the origin, but always a Bloggorrhea fave.
Apr 29, 2008 | 2:58 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recomending Rudyards for the unbeatable combo of burgers and brews and across the board quality liquid refreshment.
Enjoy with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
Your NBA boys have proven most beatable and are again pushed back to the brink. You may have heard, one more loss in this series staredown with Utah and there is no more series with Utah nor season for the Rockets.
With no more margin and playoff survival at stake, Rick Adelman and Daryl Morey have pulled every stop and pleaded to The Bloggorrhea for assistance, banging for the slightest bit of ad to take to the home court Tuesday night.
And The Bloggorrhea is more than willing to bounce a pass to a backdoor cutter.
Points are obviously coming at a premium in this set and as hard to generate as an Obama back-slap in Kennebunkport. Four games and not more than 84 points in any of the Rockets' three defeats.
As posted previously here, but again for emphasis, the Rocket remedy - be decisive in the half court. Pass it, drive it, shoot it , move it. Move the ball and in turn move the Utah slow-footer defenders, open lanes to the basket. Kill holding the ball then dribbling side-to-side then hoisting horrible no-shot jump shots deep in the shot clock.
Forgive The Bloggorrhea for being redundant.
Stop stop stop the ball-stopping. Be decisive and swing swing swing the ball. And then, go to the paint. Or go home.
McGrady can be productive in his perpetual fragile physical state but he's going to shoot 9-24. And miss 3-5 free throws. Secondary scorers are critical to a return ticket to Salt Lake City. Bobby Jackson could still be an X-factor although his accuracy (15-52) is right now X-rated.
Swing swing swing, attack attack attack. Mixed with what the Rockets already have in place, that's the ticket to Game Six.
Two days away from an official May day, may day is now sounding throughout Rocketville. The international signal of extreme emergency, derived from the French maidez meaning "help me." Protocol say to repeat three times.
Your NBA heroes must win and repeat and repeat or the beat of first round floundering continues.
Pass it, drive it, shoot it, move it. Swing, swing, swing.
Rick and Daryl, your welcome.
Apr 28, 2008 | 5:30 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recommending La Carafe Wine Bar for quality liquid refreshment in what is likely the oldest bar in the city.
Enjoy with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
The Bloggorrhea's official grade on the Texans recent draft of college hot shots - incomplete.
What else. The only intelligent grade.
What else when Duane Brown and his fellow members of the Class '08 have merely held jerseys in photo ops but are still months away from producing a single official NFL-sanctioned game-worn thread, and Brown in particular is two-three years away from any legit evaluation.
Without question the Smith/Kubaik crew is catching coast-to-coast knee jerk grief for reaching in the first round to finally address the need at left tackle.
Brown played only 12 games at left tackle at Virginia Tech, two seasons at right tackle after starting out his kicks on campus as a tight end. He was not in the top 50 on most pre-draft boards, yet was taken No. 26 (after dropping down from No. 18) by Smith/Kubiak, the seventh offensive tackle grabbed in the first round.
First and foremost, Brown was rated higher and considered more valuable by the Texans because he's believed to be the perfect match for the Alex Gibbs school/scheme of line play. Only the Texans know such. And such evaluation tends to render outside opinions irrelevant, if Smith/Kubiak know what they're doing scouting evaluating taking.
The trade down was also in part to replenish options after the second-rounder was sacrificed for Matt Schaub and the sixth-rounder shipped for center Chris Meyers.
So, instead of, say, selecting the more highly regarded Pitt tackle Jeff Otah at No. 18, the Texans opt for the package of Brown and third-round running back Steve Slaton and the sixth-round safety Dominque Barber and Meyers.
But the value is totally predicated on Brown emerging as ever-elusive dominate force at ever-valuable left tackle. If Brown's performance (without much wait) is closer to pedestrian, the final draft grade flirts with F.
One interesting subplot - if Slaton regains the gear that motored his junior season at West Virginia, comparing production vs. Reggie Bush over the next few seasons. If of course.
Other swirling thoughts on the draft festivities:
CHEERS
The immediate impact from the Texans group comes from the other Virginia Tech Gobbler, linebacker Xavier Adibi.
LSU's demolition man Glenn Dorsey is top-talent on board yet four teams pass, which is why the same teams tend to habitually live among the dregs. The fact that taking the best no-brainer merits credit reveals all you need to know about draft dealings.
Sedrick Ellis is not quite a Dorsey-demon but will create almost as much havoc and cause many an offense to bog down down on the bayou.
The UT tag-team of Limas Sweed to the Steelers in round two and Jamal Charles to the Chiefs in round three fall under the heading of value-added.
JEERS
Deep in the first round, Jerry Jones rejects a top-10 sort in running back Rashard Mendenhall to complete his fixation for Felix Jones. Jones the draftee obviously offers change-of-pace to the bulldozing Marian Barber. But why first-round investment for change-of-pace type when the supeior prospect falls in your lap.
Again, it's all about the value, regardless of how Jones may rate Arkansas roots. But when has Jones the drafter ever flashed any real football savy and foresight. When? How many playoff busts have the 'Boys banged in the last decade or so?
Vernon Golhston will not deliver the destruction to live up to the six-pick status. And the Jets will rue the proverbial day they passed on Ellis to make said pick six.
Matt Ryan will never be able to compenstate for the Falcons' knuckle head management and revolving door coaching carousel. And therefor never win enough to satisfy the forever-alive Vick sentiment in Atlanta which remain large. And Ryan will be forced to shoulder the blame singularly.
Darren McFadden is not the second coming of Adrian Peterson.
In terms of the AFC South:
Jacksonville is obviously convinced they are positioned to dethrone the only champ the division has ever produced.
The Jags way over-paid to jump into the first round to nab perceived impact linebacker Derrick Harvey, giving up two thirds and a fourth for the privilege. Then trading up in the second round, for a fifth and a seventh, for defensive end Quintin Groves.
Now Jax is yacking and ready to morgage '09 picks for Philly cornerback Lito Sheppard. Perhaps the Jags playoff win over Pittsburgh went to their collective head. No doubt these series of moves are not in motion if Jax doesn't believe they're on the brink of title-contending and collasping the Colts.
Speaking of, Indy does what Indy does, adding depth and quality even without a first round slot.
The Bud Adams bunch does what Tennessee does, adding runners and still no first-rate catchers for Vince.
Perhaps the NFL's toughest division will prove even tougher in 2009.
Apr 25, 2008 | 5:53 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recomending Bubba's Sports Bar & Grill for quality liquid refreshment during reved-up Rockets playoff viewing.
Enjoy with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
Now that was playoff win to enjoy.
That was simply the biggest late-game game-deciding block party since Hakeem shocked John Starks to essentially swing the world roundball title to Clutch City for the first-time ever.
That was simply the Rockets largest single-game playoff notch since closing out the defending Western Conference champion Sonics in a Game Seven stare-down at the Summit in 1997. The last playoff series your NBA heroes won, by the way.
That was Rocketball 94-92 over Utah in the somewhat wee-hours of Friday morning that perhaps returned the round one slugfest to an actual series. Perhaps. Check back Saturday when midnight roughly rings, Houston standard time, to see if the set is either break-even or the Rockets are once again teetering on the brink.
For now, simply relish all the ethic and effort that resulted in reducing the Jazz to not exactly all that, not exactly the invincible home court bully headed to a break-out-the-broom sweep.
Absolutely applaud all-that-rookie Carl Landry all lathered-up in those finals ticks. Once Deron Williams turned the corner and down the lane, Utah down one point, no doubt he thought the game was done. He had only torched sliced and diced the Rockets throughout the night throughout the series throughout the last two playoffs.
Landry (with the obvious limited playoff reps) could have instinctively pounded Williams to the floor to prevent the game-winning all-but-round one winning bucket. Williams at the line in cuttin' time is all but guaranteed to make one of two, likely two of two, game-set-series to the Jazz.
But Landry instead opts for the rejection on Willaims within close range of the rim. All block on the ball and no harm. And not a mammoth swat into the high-dollar row, but a Bill Russell-sort of block that can be retrieved. Which Landry does on the quick silver second bounce off the floor after the stunning last stand. Then a flash-flip to Scola that seals playoff survivial.
In review, in the final five ticks of Game Three, rave rook Landry comes off the ball for the block, the retrieve, the save, to save the Rockets season.
Anything else?
In a word, yes.
Mr. McGrady emerging from his fourth-period hibernations, seven points during a 10-0 Rocket run, seven of his game-high 27, plus a sizeable defensive board and block of his own.
Rafer returns for three triples first period that assured a set-the-tone start. When your first three-ball of the night is banked home, it promises to be a good night.
And for a change Utah shot horribly at the start (37.5% first quarter) and the end (37.5% fourth quarter). For once, the Rockets earn the free throw ad (10-13 fourth quarter and in the bonus the final 10:00 while the Jazz a mere 2-6). For only the fourth time in the last two seasons, the Rockets rally for a win after trailing after three periods. Now four and 45.
Read that again.
Four and 45 when trailing after three periods. And the fourth comes against an outfit that had lost but four games on the vaunted home floor all season. With the season absolutely at stake.
And every single last drop of it all and much more needed to win by two.
And now we buckle again for Game Four in Salt Lake that will reveal just how meaningful all of the above actually is.
Apr 24, 2008 | 6:36 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while recommending the Elephant Room in Austin for quality liquid refreshment and the best basement tunes outside of NYC.
Enjoy with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
Perhaps D.J. Augustin will stop in on his way out of town. A.J Abrams will have ample opportunity for future frequent dates over the next year.
UT's backcourt of dribble-drivers and sharp-shooters will split for the next rodeo. Both claim to test their NBA draft status. Just to see. Without securing agents. Just to keep their college options open. Forget the press release. D.J. is done as a campus kid barring a workout sort of injury/calamity that makes him undraftable. A.J. is as sure a bet to re-enroll and rip again for his senior season.
Augustin is an All-American on and off court. And his decision to leave after two seasons indicates he's just as savy on the street as he is smart in the study hall.
Augustin's stock in the eyes of the Association will not only never be higher than right now, his projection will never be higher, period. He's mid-to-lower first round. Now and forever.
Even if Augustin would to lead and take a solid returning nucleus of 'Horns past the Great Eight and into the Final Four, into the championship final (think Derek Rose), even to a first-ever Texas title, Augustin will never measure, literally and figuratively, above and beyond his current slot.
So why stick and stay? Augustin can prove nothing more to the scouts. The skeptics will always question his size and strength to penetrate and defend, his less-than-blur on the break quickness. His model is more Jameer Nelson than Chris Paul. Sort of. If, for instance, Augustin would to go to the Suns at the bottom of round one, he could provide 20:00 per game relief of Steve Nash next season. It's that kind of perfect fit. Another team, with a different style, with lesser able-bodies, or in a less comfortable stable, he's not as first-season ready. Or any season, for that matter.
More to the point, so to speak. Here's why Augustin is so smart. If he goes in the first round, he's banking roughly $1.5m over the next two years. Any where in first round, one-point-million dollars, guaranteed. And that income starts in 2008 rather a year later when the coin will be roughly the same.
Stop right now and calculate your lifetime earnings. If not at $1.5m yet, consider your present salary, project raises/bonues in the forseeable future and determine when you will tilt.
Go ahead, The Bloggorrhea will wait.
Check the math.
See, his bolt is a no-brainer. Augustin should kick the campus life and start the earning cycle. And the NBA outfit that values his skills as a player and looks past the so-called measurables will have true value at their selection. He can play for The Bloggorrhea any time any day despite the pre-draft evaluation that will only emphasize what he can't do. Supposedly.
As far as his future former mate, A.J Abrams' early entry is, in a kind word, ambitious. He really is small. As in tiny. As in a tiny one-trick catch-and-shoot pony with no-chance whatsover to be tabbed in an ever-increasing stacked draft. Abrams is a no-round selection. And his workouts against legit pro prospects will expose him as such.
Dreaming and soon to be rudely awaken.
So Abrams is back, along with the solid parts from UT's winningest-ever season, but minus the difference-maker catalyst who could have placed Texas in the preseason top five, maybe tip top, perhaps eventual promised land. Rick Barnes now must find a way to compensate and replace the most irreplacable player in an elite program for the next season. Tougher to replace Augustin in '08 than Durant in '07 given the particulars.
Sorry, Rick, but you have to earn those multiple millions some way.
Apr 23, 2008 | 8:01 PM
Category:
Sports
Shaking and stirring while always recomending the Fedora Lounge for quiet quality liquid refreshment. Share with a discerning friend. Or an attractive stranger.
Here's the Rocket formula for playoff surivial with Utah. Or, at the very least, a dribble-drive in that direction that returns the series to Houston.
Other than - making free throws. That's a given. And 18-29 Game One and 16-26 Game Two, given that both were games on home-sweet-home court, completely utterly unacceptable. With Yao out and simply no margin for error, not cashing the charity stripe checks is mind-numbing.
Other than - Mr. McGrady granted support scoring from mates throughout the course to prevent his majesty from wearing down before crunch time. Another given. But even the McGrady mashers must be muzzeled by his Monday night first half of 16 points, 8 rebounds, 4 assists and some of his most dasterly defense in Rocket red. Admitedly, his one made free throw in the final period to run his fourth period-point total in the series to, well, uh, one, obviously raises the proverbial Rocket red flag, as does his last field goal ripping the nets at approx 8:30 of the third.
No, the critical adjustment for Game Three is steering away from the almost exclusive pound pound pound the ball pick-and-roll half-court crawl that allows the Utah's bigs to clog the middle and lanes and limit the Rockets half-court scoring options.
Instead, move the ball (what a concept), pass and cut, and exploit Utah's lack of defensive quickness. That's it. Brilliant.
Move the ball, make Okur and Korver and Boozer move their feet, defend side-to-side, create high-percentage scoring and fouls-trouble for the Jazz big offensive guns instead of relying on flat-jumpers deep in the shot clock from a fatigue McGrady with no chance of second chance points.
Brilliant.
So, repeat after me - free throw accuracy, secondary scoring threats, move-the-ball passing game, with a generous dash of Rafer return, and there you have it, a Game Three win, a reason to believe.
Photos: NBAE/Getty
