Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before

Stop me, oh, stop me
Stop me if you think that you've
Heard this one before

Strangeways, here we come.

Tempted

"Dude, this contract rocks! Heh heh."

....by the fruit of another
Tempted but the truth is discovered

Yes, that's Sean Miller, coach of the Xavier University Musketeers through the year 2016, and also a huge fan of Skynard. Notice the contrast between Sean (who signed the contract extension today and appears to be serious about remaining X's head coach for a long time) and his predecessor Thad Matta:

Sono douchebaggio!
Me coacha Ohio Stato!
Ho detto niente leavo Xavier-O!
Ma sono come Nick Saban-O!
No Flagrento!
No Flagrento!

Ahem. So yeah, I applaud Miller's loyalty. He was in the running for the Minnesota and Michigan jobs (and it looks like Tubby Smith will coach the Gophers), but he chose X after they offered him a raise. And besides, do you really want Opera Man over here coaching your team, sweating out 2nd round and regional semifinal NCAA wins with the most talented team in the tourney? I'd much rather suffer heartbreaking losses in the 1st and 2nd round with scrappy teams that actually play well together but get no respect from the national media. I mean, wait, uhhhhhhhhh.......

This post would have been a lot cooler if Tennessee had held on and beaten the Buckeyes tonight. I could have ragged on Matta some more (hello, slow your team down in the 1st half!), and I had a great Wayne Chism joke planned. It would have totally blown your mind. It involved the words "Chism" and "Ohio State".

Satan Rejected My Soul

Satan rejected my soul
As low as he goes
He never quite goes this low

Apparently Joey Porter (no, not that Joey Porter) punched Bengals offensive lineman Levi Jones in the face after an altercation in the Palms casino. Wow, what a douche.

On first glance, it would appear that a Bengals player getting punched in the face would be a little bit of a blow to the ole' team ego. Again, I see the positive in this event for a few reasons:

1. Porter has been summoned and will have to go to court.
That's another arrest for a team that's not Cincinnati.

2. Levi said the punch didn't even hurt! (sort of, really the Enquirer said that)

3. Levi Jones lives in Las Vegas during the off season.
That's cool.

The only negative here is that Porter plays in Miami now, so we won't even get a chance to see a rematch as the Bengals don't play them next year. For some reason though, I'll never be able to separate Porter from the Steelers (and hopefully the Bengals won't either). His toxic karma is strong.

Sing Your Life

You have a lovely singing voice
A lovely singing voice
And all of those
Who sing on-key
They stole the notion
From you and me

Full disclosure for all seven of my intrepid readers (if you're still out there). I went on vacation. And then the computer locked up. And it's kinda boring to write about the Reds and Bengals during the offseason. Anyway, this entry can only loosely be considered as sports-related. Either way, enjoy the bonanza of posting today, I'm still not getting a MySpace page.

So the lady and I were in Miami a few weeks ago with a good friend of mine (above, pictured and pink shirted) and his wife. We got the shaft as far as weather conditions went (coldest weekend of the year) so decided to make up for the dearth of beach time by taking full advantage of our hotel's happy hour after drinking champagne in our room. After hitting a surprisingly cool club on our first night, Pink and I decided it was time to do up the karaoke bar. A little back story:

Pink was (and is) a huge music fan. When we were in high school he grew his hair out in an attempt (futile) to look like Jim Morrison. At some point, I'm pretty sure he dyed it. I, on the other hand, was clearly working on my quiff at the time. I turned him into a Smiths fan, and on any given night we were the annoying guys singing The Boy With a Thorn In His Side around a campfire while you were drinking your Ice House trying to score. We also have similarly arranged vocal cords, and the effect of us singing together has prompted comparisons to amplified bullhorns in stereo. At Pink's bachelor party in Vegas, we bribed the KJ (karaoke jockey) to let us sing With or Without You and Blaze of Glory back to back. He responded by turning the mic completely off during both of our renditions. We really didn't need it in his defense.

South Beach isn't exactly known as karaoke central, but I remembered a certain Ufford-penned post that mentioned Paul Rudd singing at a hotel bar during the Super Bowl weekend. After a little research, we were on our way to Studio at the Shelborne Hotel to get our K fix. We walked in the door, and I was shocked to see how serious the place was. Nice big stage, a monitor showing the performance for those too far from the action, and this guy:

The KJ at Studio was a turtle shaped man who hated when people did things like swing the microphones, use the mic stand as a rock prop, or touch any of the guitars (there were many) hanging in the back of the stage that weren't designated as "prop" instruments. Needless to say these rules were broken frequently (Pink really drove the turtle crazy with the mic swinging, he kept muttering "whassa matter with you?"). All in all though, the guy was worth the over in the overpriced drinks. He had a keyboard that he would "riff" on when someone sang a song that he liked. The only time I saw him break it out was during a pretty solid rendition of "Could You Be Loved", complete with steel drum effect. Later during the 2nd night, he chased some guy off the stage for plugging in a guitar. Amazing.

So I know people's definition of sport varies widely (poker?, darts?) but let me be the first to tell you that if karaoke's not a sport, then I don't work for Darlington electronics. How can it not be a sport when so many of sports' most important cliches apply to it? For example:

1. Practice good sportmanship

The KJ's have a rough and pretty thankless job. Don't give em' shit and boo every time they call someone else to the stage because you want to sing. And if you really need to sing, slip him a fiver (in Vegas you need more). Also, don't make out on stage while someone is singing (see pic, top of post).

2: Always give 110%

If it's necessary to sell that last "She run...run...run..RUUUUUUUUUUNNNNN!" from Radiohead's Creep by collapsing to your knees, you fucking do it, rugburns be damned. Conversely, if you're gonna stand on stage feeling embarrassed and holding the mic seven feet away from your mouth, you need to spend some more time hustling at practice (singing in the shower) before you ever see the court again. Seriously, just stay on the bench.

3. Have confidence in your teammates

This is kind of a tricky one. Sometimes drunken idiots think it's cool to karaoke-crash when you're singing your song and run onstage with you. These people are not your teammates, they are the opposition. Don't let them upstage you; the second they arrive, start up a faux mosh pit and convince them to do a stage dive. If that doesn't work then completely ignore them. Your real teammate in karaoke is the song you pick. And song selection is key. Always go with what you feel, don't let your drunken friends convince you that it would be hilarious if you sang "Love Shack" at a hipster bar with no backup singer. The wrong song at the wrong time and/or location can lead to karaoke disaster. Trust me. Oh yeah, and that early 90's rap song that you kinda remember the words to is only going to get you in trouble. The most painful karaoke moments (other than the drunken-girls-sharing-one-mic-and-singing I Will Survive) are when someone is a verse and half behind on "Informer" and reading the teleprompter like he's hooked on phonics. If you want to do it right, pick a song that you know the lyrics to and have confidence in. Pink has this nailed. He went with The Doors and the Stones and knew every word.

4. Talent is fine, but hustle is better

The Pete Rose axiom. You can be Whitney Houston and suck at karaoke if your heart's not in it. Never mail it in. And if you can't really sing, give it your all and people will still respect you. And be very, very careful if you're going to attempt to mock the song you are singing. You may come off as a huge douche (see Shack, Love).

5. Always be prepared

Preparation is why the Patriots are in the playoffs every year. In karaoke, preparation=booze. If you aren't three sheets to the wind, you will not be able to compete in a competitive karaoke environment. No way I attempt Prince sober (even the lady was surprised I pulled it off).
Also, booze and smoking help make your voice sound really cool.

6. Know your opponent (audience)

Already covered some of this but there's more. Never, under any circumstances, pick a song with more than 5 verses. Leave American Pie, November Rain, and Hotel California alone, unless you want everyone to hate you. And be wary of singing anything other than roots-rock or country at a country and western karaoke bar. And don't sing Broadway songs anywhere. And be careful with popular eighties songs (that weren't dance hits) in Miami if the bar isn't carding.

6. Know your limitations

The human body can only take so much. If singing on consecutive nights (and blowing your proverbial karaoke wad the 1st night), do not try a song that requires any vocal talent. Pink held up well on this front, going with Never Tear Us Apart (a true baritone ballad) on night two, while I made the mistake of attempting Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil. In case you are from Miami (or under the age of 24), this is the song I'm referring to:

Peter Garrett's dance style (the best examples of which you can see at the 2:50 and 4:00 mark) is apparently way easier to mimic than his vocal style. I found this out the hard way and ended up sounding like Carol Channing for the last three minutes of the song. And oh yeah, no one but Pink (it was a mostly teenage crowd at this point) had any idea what the hell I was doing contorting on stage. The whole time I was busy thinking to myself "Wow, I really do a great Peter Garrett." Must be getting old.

So yeah, karaoke's a sport. And I can kick your ass at it.

By the way, still fired.

Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour
But heaven knows I'm miserable now

With 9 seconds left in regulation, Xavier led Ohio State 62-59. Justin Cage had just made the front end of a one-and-one. One more free throw, and the game is over. It rims out.

That's about all the reliving of the end of this game I can do right now, other than to say that I have never seen a more intentional foul in my entire life than the hit that Oden put on Cage to send him to the free throw line in the first place. I'll just have to file that one away with the Lewis Billups endzone drop from Super Bowl XXIII in the "memories that are too painful and anger-provoking to ever think of again" section of my brain. At this point, the only silver lining I can find in this cloud is that being a Bengals fan this season did help prepare me for the worst.

Just one more thing about the game. Justin Cage is one of my all-time favorite Xaver players, along with Darnell Williams, Byron Larkin, and Brian Grant. The guy did nothing but hustle his entire career and shot a perfect 8-8 from the field in the biggest game of his life while being defended by someone 6 inches taller than him. He singlehandedly took the game over in the 2nd half to give Xavier its lead. And it kills me to think that he might be remembered for missing a free throw when there were at least five or six other larger mistakes that X made down the stretch that he had nothing to do with. From all accounts, the guy is a complete class act off the court as well, and he will be graduating on time this spring. I will remember his Xavier career fondly.

Also, still fired. Unemployment sucks.

Work Is A Four Letter Word

So change your life
There is so much I know
That you can do
Come and see ...

Getting laid off from your job is usually a pretty sobering event. Especially when your job is that of a bartender/shift manager at burger bar in Brooklyn (we're not exactly talking rocket science here).

On Tuesday of this week, I met with my employer, learned of my transgressions (managerial carelessness), and was told my services wouldn't be needed for this week. Kind of a double secret probation as far as I can tell, since I was scolded for being consistently late to work last month and was told to not mention the reasons for my dismissal to fellow employees. I walked back to my apartment to my waiting girlfriend and felt for the first time what a deadbeat dad might feel like. A strange mixture of self-pity and the sense that I let myself, and possibly others, down. Lucky for me, we don't have any kids.

So in the midst of my preparation for heri-keri, it came to me. I was being laid off during the first week of March Madness. And Xavier was playing BYU on Thursday night, a night I normally work. The stars had aligned.

The game was one of the only two exciting games of the entire day, Duke-VCU of course being the other. For a complete account of the games ebbs and flows, check out the Enquirer's story. BYU played a great game, leading for most of the game's first thirty minutes. XU fought bravely, overtook BYU in the 2nd half, then repelled a late BYU comeback. Drew Lavender was the man down the stretch hitting two huge runners in the lane and sinking the clinching free throws. Josh Duncan, aka "The Gay Rock", also had a huge bucket down the stretch to put X up two.

The result was a huge win for Xavier, mostly because it sets up a second round matchup with the hated Thad Matta, former Muskie and present Buckeye coach (Matta bailed on the team after taking X to its first ever Elite 8 appearance three seasons ago). Also it hopefully annoyed everyone at the Worldwide Leader of Sports who insisted that Xavier had no business being in the tournament over Syracuse (even though they were a nine seed) and fell in line by predicting a BYU win. Seriously, not a single person on that network picked XU to win the game (that I saw at least, and I watched a lot of ESPN this week). Anyway, it was a sweet victory. And I'm sticking to my guns, I've got X beating OSU and moving on to the Elite 8 again: a prediction that has been met with nothing but laughter and condescension all week. Well, Thad and his boys better not be laughing cause from where I'm standing, XU is the most underrated squad in the tourney.

Unemployment is awesome.

Hand In Glove (Part 1)

The Good People laugh
Yes, we may be hidden by rags
But we've something they'll never have

TCF's Reds baseball preview begins with a look at recently signed pitcher Aaron Harang.

A lot has been made of the plight of small market baseball teams over the last 15 years. What with the Yankees and Red Sox locked in an ever escalating cock-fight to see who can spend more money on exotic foreign players and stockpile the most all-stars, times are tough for small market teams. Now I know the Tigers, Cardinals, and A's were 3 0f the final 4 teams in the playoffs last season (and that the Red Sox didn't even make the playoffs) and that baseball is attempting to restructure it's finances by introducing revenue sharing. But when I see the free agents signings from this off season (Gary Matthews Jr., Gil Meche, and Ted Lilly all signed contracts worth around 10 M a year for four or five years), I wonder if a team like the Reds can compete in this market. So far, the answer has been not really.

The Reds finished last season 80-82, 3 games out of first place. For the first time since the 99 season, the Reds couldn't pin their struggles on an atrocious pitching staff. The team's 1 and 2 starters (Aaron Harang and Bronson Arroyo) combined for 30 wins, almost 400 K's, and over 400 innings pitched. Today the Reds resigned their ace, Harang, to a 4 year-36 million dollar contract (with an option for a 5th year). With Arroyo signed through the next two season at around 7 M a year, the Reds have two solid, durable starters with very reasonable contracts for the next two seasons. With Homer Bailey (who some rate as the best minor league pitching prospect in all of baseball) waiting in the wings, the Reds, potentially, have one of the best starting rotations in the NL, and a foundation to build a winning team around.

Reds GM Wayne Krivsky has been quiet on the free agent front this year, signing Alex Gonzalez from the Red Sox to play SS and a bunch of unexciting utility infielders (Jeff Conine, Juan Castro) and possible #5 starters and relievers (Kirk Saarloos, Brian Meadows, Mike Stanton). All in all, I can't say I blame him for his reluctance to pull the trigger on any of the big name free agents out there. The Reds look pretty mediocre right now, but I'd rather they improve the team through trades during the season (and through the farm system) than through spending a lot of money in the off-season for overpriced free agents. And really the Harang signing is probably the best thing that could happen for this team in the off-season. The guy is clearly their best player (in my mind) and gives them a pretty good shot to win every game he pitches. The fact that he was cheaper to sign than Gil Meche is mind boggling (as any fantasy baseball player can tell you, Meche is nothing but a headache), but I gotta give Krivsky props for it. Now let's see if he can get this team a closer.

Gett Off

Lemme show u baby Im a talented boy

Prince is awesome.

Yeah, that was really the coolest part of the night. Prince's gigantic phallus silhouette (with shocker attached!) was pure genius. He hasn't done anything that cool since he was raised out of a trap door in the floor of the stage at Riverfront Coliseum in 1984 (on the Purple Rain tour mind you) to start off the concert. Not that I would know. I mean, it's not like I was the coolest 2nd grader in the world that night or anything.

Behind the Wheel

My little girl
I prefer
You behind the wheel
and me the passenger

So I'm a little late on this one (I know I know, you missed me), but another Bengal got arrested and everyone went apeshit. People have been throwing their moral outrage around like Wii controllers with defective velcro. The Enquirer ran an awesome "Bengals rap sheet" sidebar in an article about the arrest that lists the series of infractions the club has racked up since the beginning of 2006. Also Marvin Lewis, dangerously close to taking some of my advice from September, invited a cop to speak to the Bengals about the dangers of driving under the influence before the season ended, and the Bengals have now created a 24 hour hot-line for their presumably hammered employees to call when they need a ride. More recently, Mike Brown even came out from his self-imposed media exile after Chris Henry's sentencing (one of his previous charges ) to talk tough (Henry served two days for being around minors while they were drinking alcohol and received a saucy tongue-lashing from the judge at the hearing to boot).

This is all great stuff really, if you're into the whole athletes are destroying the moral fiber of society thing. I'm not so much. And believe me, that's not to say it isn't very frustrating to root for a team that can't seem to get its shit together (on or off the field). But I'm ready to look at this last incident in a completely different way than the other arrests. I think we actually took a step forward here, and I'll tell why:

1. Joseph had a designated driver.

He assessed the situation and determined that the chick he was with was the number one sober. That's solid work there. Is it really his fault that she can't drive?

2. Dude was carrying his weed in a Super Bowl LX bag, next to a video game system.


You see? These guys are thinking about what it takes to win championships. I see this as kind of like that thing that Riley did with the Heat last year where he had everybody put all this important shit in a bowl or something to motivate the team. Which means that Joseph was probably on his way to pick up one of Henry's guns, Steinbach's boating license, Odell's "peanut butter crank", and AJ Nicholson's lifted stereo to stuff it all into the bag. Then Marvin was gonna put a padlock on the bag, give a motivational speech or two, and the Bengals were gonna fly through next season and win the Super Bowl by two touchdowns. Too bad the cops had to go and fuck up the whole plan.

3. Maybe I'm a glass half-full guy, but isn't this arrest #1?

People like to say that 9 Bengals have been arrested, I guess because that sounds like a big number. But really, it's 2007 people. Let's put those 8 other arrests (from 2006) behind us. And you can't keep counting Henry, okay? It's not fair. That's like calling traveling on your 6 year old cousin in a family pick up game. Just bad form. And for the record, I predict only 5 (non-Henry) arrests for the Bengals this year (a pretty significant decrease). Let me know if you want the over or the under.

NEVER MIND THE BULLOCKS.....

Chicago Bears running back Cedric Benson is congratulated by teammates after his 12-yard touchdown run in the fourth quarter. At right is the Saints' Josh Bullocks.

HERE'S THE REX PISTOL(S)

Rex Grossman flexes his manliness

I know the title isn't "post" punk, but I couldn't resist.

So it looks like I'll be rooting for the Bears in the Super Bowl now. I lived in Chicago for four years so it's not really a huge stretch. And a close friend of mine from Lake Forest was so excited about the game today that he violated a man law and baked orange and blue butter cookies for the game (if you're gonna violate a man law, I say do it with panache and nothing says panache like orange and blue butter cookies. Those bitches were good too). Also, the Bears do have a "C" on their helmets right? Can't I just pretend?

Talk About The Passion-Part IV

An ongoing (and highly subjective) series highlighting the ten greatest moments in Cincinnati Sports History.

7. Xavier defeats Princeton 65-58 to advance to the 1999 NIT Semifinals.

Yeah, that's what I'm talkin about! A quarterfinal NIT victory is #7 on my top ten Cincinnati sports moments of all time! This should make it clear that (A) Cincinnati sports fans have absolutely nothing else to care about over the winter and (B) I really like Xavier (we'll get back to this later). To the event:

Wednesday, March 19th, 1999, the Cincinnati Gardens. I somehow managed to make it home from Chicago for this game, since I can't remember how I did it I'll just have to assume that I cut some classes and took the Greyhound. The bus ride was always action packed (especially the super-depressing transfer at the Indianapolis bus station) but couldn't be beat for the cost (30 bucks, I believe). And besides I had to watch my boys play one last time.

When I say my "boys", I am of course referring to the seniors of that year's team; Lenny Brown, Gary Lumpkin, and James Posey. This was the team that had knocked off UC and Danny Fortson in 1996 to put the Xavier program on the map nationally. UC was ranked #1 at the time, and Fortson was on the cover of SI's college basketball preview that year. X had had some NCAA success in the past, but this was a shocking road win early in the season that led to X being ranked in or near the top 25 for nearly the next two full seasons. Basically that kind of credibility was unheard of for Xavier, a small private school that had previously played in the now-defunct MCC before joining the Atlantic 10. The Musketeers got bounced by a tough UCLA team in the 2nd round of NCAA tourney in 97, then went on to have a very strong 97-98 season (possibly the best Xavier team ever, Posey came of the bench as a Junior that year) only to fall in a first round matchup against the University of Washington in the 98 NCAAs (that game still haunts me). The following year their key player (and arguably the most talented of the group, including Posey) Darnell Williams suffered a major knee injury playing in an offseason exhibition. Williams' injury, coupled with the loss of X's frontcourt from the previous two seasons (TJ Johnson and Torraye Braggs) to graduation, left the 98-99 season as a huge disappointment for Xavier fans. The team failed to make the NCAA tournament and landed in the dreaded NIT.


The Princeton game was the last game Xavier's seniors would ever play at the Cincinnati Gardens, since they moved into their fancy new (read: sterile and totally boring) on-campus facility, the Cintas Center in the 2000-2001 season. The Gardens was the best place to watch a basketball game in Cincinnati (the Cincinnati Royals played there from 1957 to 1972). It was also a great place to watch hockey games, circuses, roller derbies, monster truck jams, and gun shows. Opposing teams hated playing there as they rarely got a chance to practice before their game because of all the other events taking place. It was a fairly large, poorly lit concrete box that always smelled like a combination of stale popcorn, sweat, and some sort of unidentifiable animal musk (leftover from the circus I hope). When the place got loud (which it often did), the noise level was deafening.

The Princeton game was a fitting end for the Musketeer basketball team that season. X was very talented around the perimeter (Lenny Brown was their leading scorer at the 2), and extremely inexperienced in the frontcourt (they started two Freshmen at the 4 and 5, Kevin Frey and Aaron Turner). When the guards and Posey got hot, the team was unstoppable. When Brown and Lumpkin's shots weren't falling, the team was pedestrian to quite-pedestrian. In the first half of the Princeton game, the latter scenario took place with Princeton running its frighteningly efficient motion offense to perfection and Xavier struggling to find open looks. X's coach at the time, the ever quotable Skip Prosser described it thusly:

The beginning (of that game) was a clinic of dunks and layups for them. They were running their offense around us like we were a bunch of orange cones.

God love him. Anyway, halftime score, Princeton 35 Xavier 23. Doesn't sound bad, but a 12 point deficit against Princeton is a 20 point deficit against any other team. Usually falling behind a team that slows down the tempo of the game like Princeton just plays right into their hands. As the second half started, I was prepared for terrible shot selection and turnovers, but this would not be Xavier's fate on this fine day.

So I think this is where I'm gonna start to get a little cheesy (dial-a-cliche time, if you will). You know how when you're watching a sporting event and you can literally see one team decide that it's going to win the game (Cliche #1). That's what happened to X. They had been pressing full-court the whole game, but in the 2nd half, it finally started to get to Princeton. They comeback was pretty slow at first (Princeton extended its lead to 15 on an early three), but once Princeton started turning the ball over, the pace picked up and the crowd started to smell the blood in the water (#2). Princeton was only able to get off 19 shots in the 2nd half; within ten minutes after the half started, it was clear that by the sheer application of their will, Xavier was going to win the game (#3). Everyone in the Gardens knew what was happening and cheered and screamed accordingly. I had probably been to upwards of 40 games at that gym in my life, and I had never heard it sound quite like that. I was 20 years old at the time, close to the same age as a lot of the players on the court. It's kind of weird looking back on that now because I realize now how young college athletes really are (and conversely, how old I am), but at the time, they were my peers. I felt that once in a lifetime bond with them (#4). They weren't pro athletes that were making tons of money and receiving constant attention. They weren't even pampered jocks at a big time state school with a huge booster network. They were guys that weren't heavily recruited out of high school from some rough neighborhoods (Brown and Lumpkin were both from Wilmington DE) who were taking classes, studying for exams (or at least having some nuns study for them), playing a shitload of mid-major basketball games on regional cable and the occasionaloff-season pickup game at Xavier's gym. I basically lived out all of my sports fantasies through them vicariously. These were guys that most people could never pick out of a lineup, but for me, they were my somewhat secret imaginary friends. Much cooler and blacker than my real friends.

Xavier took the lead for good 50-49, with 6 minutes left in the game. Posey knocked down some huge shots in the 2nd half, including some must-have free throws in the game's waning minutes. He was the most talented of the bunch but still seemed to score all of his baskets via the garbage route. He was a hustle player; the perfect embodiment of that team. When the buzzer sounded and X had won the game 65-58, the PA system started playing New York, New York by Sinatra. My brother (age 26) and I stormed the court. We got out into the middle of the floor, found Posey, and picked him up (my brother did most of the picking up, since he was, and still is, much more dieseled than I). As we were carrying James around the court, we caught a glimpse of Byron Larkin, XU's all time leading scorer, color commentator, and guy who would regularly destroy us in the lunch time pickup games at X's gym seated at the press row. He was in the middle of doing the postgame wrap-up when he saw us and started laughing. We gave him a thumbs up (accompanied by the obligatory shit-eating grin) and laughed right back. After we finally let Posey go, my brother was so wired that we hit up the souvenir stand for some jerseys (we come from very cheap German stock, the thought of buying anything from the overpriced kiosks at the stadium had never occurred to us before). They were out of Poseys so we ended up with a Lloyd Price (which turned out to be a huge mistake) and a Darnell Williams. Guess which one I got?


That would be Darnell Williams. The next Michael Finley (only more clutch) if he hadn't blown out his knee. He was NBA material, no doubt. And yes, I am a huge nerd. By the way, Xavier went on to lose to Clemson in the semis by 3 points, and then destroy Oregon in the consolation game (they have those in the NIT!) by 30. So the Seniors went out on a win in a tournament. Only two other teams get to do that (the NIT and NCAA champ), so they were clearly the 3rd ranked team in the nation that year. In my heart anyway (#5). Darnell came back from his knee surgery the next season without his old explosiveness. He gritted it out anyway and adjusted his game to become a 3-point specialist (and a good one at that). He poured in 18 first half points against UC that next year to help in yet another upset of the #1 team in the nation. And yes, I still wear the jersey. Occasionally.

We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful

Oh, look at those clothes
Now look at that face, it's so old

This picture was taken approximately 1 second after Bill Belichick throat punched a photographer (who was brazenly standing in front of Eric Mangini, doing his job) and approximately one second before he shoved a different cameraman (who was brazenly standing behind Belichick, also doing his job) out of his way. Apparently I'm the only one who noticed this as the "hug heard round the world" dominated the CBS broadcast. "He hugged him! He hugged him!" Wow, what a warm lovable guy. And his hoodies are soooo cute! Whatever, this guy is a complete asshole, and I'm pretty sure his inner monologue as he walked to shake Mangini's hand went something like this:

I fucking hate you Eric Mangini. How dare you leave my staff to coach for a team in my division. I can't believe you beat us here earlier this year, I am so glad we just crushed your playoff hopes. I am a golden fleece-wearing coaching God. You are a Man-gina. I'm gonna give you a fucking hug, asshole, just to piss you off. GHAAAARG! (insert throat-punch sound effect)

Hugs Mangini

"Great game coach."

GHAAAARG! (insert whimpering photographer sound effect). That's right bitches. I'm a nice fucking guy. Can't wait to bang my mistress.

It Could Be You

But don't worry
If it's not your lucky number
cos tomorrow there's another
Could be you
Could be me

Cowboys fans: Welcome to my world.

I Hate You (But You're Interesting)

It's a crazy little world without you

I caught some shit when I was home for Christmas from a friend who was pissed about my lack of coverage of the Crosstown Shootout. Since I was unable to actually watch the game, I thought regurgitating other people's accounts of it would be pretty lame. But alas, I can't stand the thought of being accused of not talking about the biggest college game of the year in Cincinnati because my team lost, so here's what I have to say about the Shootout.

What shootout?

That UC-XU game that ESPN deigned not ready for primetime TV (which UC dominated, by the way) wasn't the shootout. The shootout is actually happening tonight. Bob Huggins vs. Xavier is more exciting right now for Cincy (and the rest of the nation apparently, as it will be televised on ESPN2) than UC vs. XU. The game features two possible tournament teams looking for another quality non-conference win before the conference schedule kicks in. K-State has one of the top freshmen in the nation, Bill Walker (from North College Hill in Cincinnati, OJ Mayo's former teammate) and has won six straight, including a big win over a tough USC team. Xavier rebounded from losing 3 of its last 4 (@Creighton, @UC, and Bucknell) by knocking off Illinois 66-59 last Friday. UC followed its big win over Xavier with a humiliating blowout loss to Ohio State and is now making news again for academic problems. Who cares about UC without Huggins anyway?

As a lifelong Xavier fan, I was taught to hate all things Bearcat related. This pretty easy during my formative years as Xavier was always playing the role of the small private Jesuit college with a solid basketball team that does things the "right way" in contrast to UC's "let's punch police horses and not graduate any players" strategy. Huggins, though, is still widely loved in the Nati, even after drunk driving arrest that helped lead to his forced resignation. I've heard a number of stories about run-ins with the Huggy Bear at different bars in the Nati area, one involving him singing Frank Sinatra songs and refusing to accept a ride home after getting completely annihilated. People love that shit. Last year's Shootout was peppered with shots of Huggins drinking in a private box with some cronies. The man is just good television.

Tonight's game should be an exciting one, as Huggins probably knows a lot more about XU than Miller knows about K-State. XU showed it could play physically with Illinois and will need to continue to play that way to win this game. As long as X doesn't rely on it's favorite pastime, chucking up 20 3-point attempts a game, it should be a barn burner. It's also Walker's homecoming, and he'll be looking to make a splash. In the shootouts of old, the hungrier team almost always won, and I expect this game to be no different. And if you're at a bar in the Tri-State area after the game this evening, buy Huggy a drink for me...even though he probably won't need it.

Uncertain Smile

a broken soul stares from a pair of watering eyes,
uncertain emotions force an uncertain smile...

Well if you thought last week's loss to the Denver Broncos was painful...

I'd really rather not go into detail about the final game of the Bengals' 2006 season against the hated Pittsburgh Steelers. The one thing that really pissed me off as I drunkenly watched another playoff opportunity go down the toilet was the end-of-game clock management by Marvin Lewis. Lewis decided to burn a timeout with a minute left in the 4th quarter before a FG attempt by the Steelers. He did this previously at the end of the FIRST half of the Baltimore game (and it worked), but unfortunately no one informed Marvin that this was a very different situation. It was the 2nd half, the FG was a chip shot, and even if it was good, the Bengals still had a minute to kick a field goal of their own. The Bengals ended up needing that timeout very badly, as they almost immediately moved the ball to the Steelers' 20 with 30 seconds left in the game on 50 yard pass to Chris Henry. Had they still had two timeouts, the Bengals could've used one after the completion, then ran two or more plays to get into better field goal position or even go for the endzone. Instead, a team that had just lost to the Broncos because of its failure to convert a PAT put even more pressure on its special teams. The last four offensive plays of the Bengals' season looked like this:

1st down from the 20: Spike
Timeout
2nd Down from the 20: Palmer takes a knee
3rd Down from the 22: Spike
4th Down: Graham misses a 39 yard FG attempt.

The spike-timeout sequence was particularly embarrassing. This was the last game of the season, how in the world is this team not prepared to run a two minute drill? The spike stops the clock, then you call any play your little heart desires, because you still have a timeout left. Fucking maddening.

In other news, Marvin Lewis is heading up a NFL group this offseason that will lobby for a new rule implementing a league wide policy that allows each team one "do-over" a game on kicking plays. Shayne Graham, Brad St. Louis, and Kyle Larson however are all terrified by the thought of fucking up twice in a row.

You Have Killed Me

As I live and breathe, you have killed me. You have killed me.

After 15 years of relying on the tried an true tactic of consistent and embarrassing ineptitude, the Cincinnati Bengals football franchise has discovered a far more effective means of torturing the people of Southwestern Ohio. Their new plan (which has been in development since the hiring of head coach Marvin Lewis in 2003) was finally unveiled in its full glory on Christmas Eve in Denver's INVESCO Field at Mile High Stadium last Sunday. No longer satisfied with suffering humiliating blowouts in meaningless late season games, the Bengals have moved on to perfecting the art of the heartbreaking loss. Certainly, the precedent for this kind of a loss existed within the storied history of the franchise (see Montana, Joe or Knee Surgery, Reconstructive), but this recent defeat was special not necessarily because of external forces acting upon the Bengals, but the repeated internal combustion of said Bengals. This game featured a number of new twists. The Cincinnati defense and offensive line played very well, while the marquee position players made costly mistakes, turning the ball over four times. And then for the icing on the cake, the Bengals recovered from their sloppy play for the last three minutes of the game, driving all the way down the field in the closing minutes of the fourth quarter to eventually score on a 10 yard TD pass to Houshmandzadeh. Then, on the ensuing PAT attempt, Brad St. Louis' snap was fumbled by Kyle Larson. The Bengals then attempted an onside kick and recovered it, only to have the play nullified by an offsides penalty. As a result of this game (and it's effect on the people of the Greater Cincinnati area), military officials in Guantanamo Bay are now rumored to be contacting the Bengals franchise to gather more information about their ground-breaking mass torture techniques.

There's nothing quite like having your holiday weekend interrupted by a game like this one. You could have given me an autographed copy of The Queen is Dead for Christmas after the game, and I wouldn't have given a shit. My 12 year old cousin asked me during the game if I was going to cry if the Bengals lost (he could tell I was little invested), and I told him "No, but I'll probably want to". That pretty much sums it up. I went through the motions at the Christmas Eve dinner, then tried to distract myself by doing a puzzle with my Aunt (and believe me, I kicked that puzzle's ASS). It was not a very Merry Christmas.

By far the most horrifying repercussion of the loss though, was not my foul mood on Christmas Eve. It was the fact that I was subjected to watch (and care about) the Jets-Dolphins game on Monday night. The game also had fantasy implications for me, as I was down by 9 points in the championship game of my secondary league. My only remaining player was the Dolphins defense. Halftime score: 0-0. If the Dolphins can just kick a field goal...but no, the Jets score the game's first points. Wait, but then the Dolphins score a touchdown! Holy shit, an offensive explosion courtesy of some guy named Cleo Lemon who my playoff hopes now rest on. Dolphins are up 7-3, and there's no way Pennington can do any more than get the Jets in field goal range again. Wrong again, Chad throws his first pass of longer than 20 yards for a TD and the Jets lead 10-7. This happens after he ridiculously underthrows a pass directly at a Dolphins cornerback named Andre Goodman, who of course, dropped it. This cost me a fantasy football championship, and a playoff berth. But the Dolphins still have a chance. Lemon is driving them down the field. They're in the red zone and almost make a first down on the Jets six. It's fourth and inches, but lucky for me, the Dolphins have nothing to play for and they're at home, so they're definitely going for it. I can see the QB sneak in my head (the Dolphins line was manhandling the Jets' front all game long) until I look at the TV where I see the Dolphins field goal unit head onto the field. Nick Saban. You. Are. A Pussy. The Dolphins tie the game, then promptly give up 60 yards to the Jets on a screen pass. Mike Nugent hits the chip shot to win the game, and it sure looks like the Jets, and not the Bengals, are heading to the playoffs. Which is a travesty really. I have a better arm than Pennington. I do, I swear. The only good thing about having to watch this game is that it made me realize that the Jets could actually lose to the Raiders. I'm not saying it will happen, but it's possible. The Raiders defense will probably have to score, but Jets could lose to ANYBODY. Unfortunately, so could the Bengals. Except for Cleveland. We own them. Who Dey?

Tiny Daggers

Who put those tiny daggers...in your heart?????

That didn't go so well. The Bengals lost to the Colts on Monday Night Football 34-16, in a game that was way less interesting than last year's matchup (or this year's Chargers game for that matter). The reason this game wasn't more competitive was pretty obvious to anyone who tuned in for a few minutes. Peyton Manning dominated the game. The Bengals defensive scheme was to give the Colts anything they wanted underneath....and the Colts took everything they wanted underneath. This was in stark contrast to the Bengals offensive performance, which was marred by dropped passes, terrible pass protection, and a horrid 3rd down conversion percentage. Also, I think a lot of people are disappointed that the Bengals didn't take more shots down the field to exploit the injuries in the Colts secondary. I, for one, am not, and this is probably because every time Carson dropped back to pass the ball, he was in danger of being maimed. He got blown up on a key 3rd and 5 on the Bengals first possession and fumbled, and that pretty much set the tone for the whole game. Andrew Whitworth, Levi Jones' replacement, could not block Dwight Freeney, and, after Willie Anderson left the game, Stacy Andrews (his replacement) couldn't block Robert Mathis to save his (or his quarterback's more importantly) life. It was kind of scary to watch. I'd much rather the Bengals lose this game than see Carson get injured (more on this later). Anyway, time for random thoughts:

1. The Bengals could have really used Chris Perry.
Kenny Watson filled in admirably, but Perry's explosiveness really hurt the Colts last year, and on at least one occasion, Watson was tackled from behind in the open field in a situation where Perry could have taken it to the house.

2. The Bengals could have really used Chris Henry.
Oh wait, he was there? Oh, that was him was alligator-arming all those deep balls and making endzone drops? Shocking.

3. The Bengals have a very hard time against teams when they let the quarterback sit in the pocket and pick them apart.
I could probably count the number of blitzes I saw in this game on one hand. Granted, Manning is a master at making quick reads, but as some point the defensive strategy needed to change, and it never did. For God's sake, Mike Vick carved up this pass defense when he had all day to throw.

4. The Bengals match up very poorly against the Colts.
To beat the Colts you need an explosive runner, a good edge rusher, and a DB who can cover either Wayne or Harrison in man coverage without melting into the field turf. The Bengals have none of the above. Next week's game against the Broncos will certainly not be easy, but facing a rookie QB with a mediocre offense is much preferable for the Bengals D, even if the Broncos D is much better than the Colts'.

5. I wonder if the Bengals wouldn't be better off without Rudi Johnson.
Don't get me wrong, I love Rudi's HHD (that's heart, hustle, and determination, not a venereal disease), but he seemed to be missing a lot of holes last night. Maybe I'm just spoiled by all the LaDainian highlights floating around, but I think the Bengals would be way more dangerous with a flex-type back as a starter. Think Steven Jackson, Maurice Jones-Drew, or even Kevin Jones; a guy who can catch the ball out of the backfield and break off big runs, but still pound it in when he needs to. Chris Perry looked like he might be that guy eventually, but then he came down with a mean case of Ki-Jana-itis (or Ki-Jaundice, if you prefer). A shame.
I do think though, that Rudi would be a better fit for a ball control team that wears you down with the run.

6. The Bengals need a healthy O-line if they are going to do anything this year/ever.
Levi Jones, Rich Braham, and Willie Anderson were all out last week, and it showed. Hopefully, at least two of three will be ready for Sunday. If they aren't, and Carson is getting pressured this much next week, I say let Anthony Wright run the show. I'm serious, if Palmer gets hurt because he's playing behind three rookies and trying to make the playoffs in a year where the Bengals don't have a legitimate chance to win it all, I will never forgive Marvin Lewis. This team has a great future, but if Carson goes down again, it may be back to the Lost Decade part II.

7. Bengals fans will never forget the Lost Decade.
It haunts the recesses of our minds, and on nights like Monday, it haunts the opposite of the recesses (class time?) too. I was surrounded by Bengals fans twitching and moaning (myself included) all night on Monday. Even when the Bengals weren't actually fucking up, people were getting upset. That's because the game followed a pattern we were all too familiar with. Bengals tease us with glimmer of hope (1st half fumble recovery and ensuing TD), then proceed to put tiny daggers in our hearts (10 yard completion after 10 yard completion...). At the end of it, the scene was kind of like being around a bunch of recovering heroine addicts trying not to fall back into their old habits after taking some methodone. Let's hope that the Broncos game doesn't make us chase the dragon.

Barbarism Begins at Home

A crack on the head
Is just what you get
WHY ? Because of who you are !

The Knicks and Nuggets went AT IT Saturday night at the garden and were just a few fans short of Palace at Auburn Hills caliber melee. The suspensions were handed down by David Stern today, resulting in Carmelo Anthony getting suspended for 15 games, JR Smith and Nate Robinson each picked up a 10 game suspension, while Mardy Collins got hit up for 6. This looks really bad for the Knicks, but I think there is a silver lining for them in all of this. They finally found their intimidating presence in the paint. And his name is Nate Robinson.


Nate's blocked Yao Ming and now pretty much challenged every Nugget player he could find to a fight, and scared the shit out of Carmelo Anthony in the process. Did you see Melo running away from him at the end of the fight? This guy is the new Shaq. And I totally know why he's such a badass. Nate's from Seattle, and if you don't think Seattle is a town full of badasses...well, you clearly weren't at the rehearsal dinner for my friend Dave's wedding dinner in University Heights this summer when I got punched in the chest by a random guy off the street (right before he did it, he said my favorite quote of the year: "You guys think you're super-cool huh?") My friend Dave, who has lived in Seattle long enough to know how to keep his head on a swivel in a vicious cockfight, responded in kind, landing two hits on the guy and pinning him to the wall with the help of his father, a 60 year old man. The message, don't fuck with Seattle. Now that the rest of the NBA has learned that, Knicks can go ahead and trade Eddy Curry for Allen Iverson and field a squad that looks like this:

PG: Stephon Marbury
SG: Allen Iverson
SF: Jamal Crawford
PF: Quentin Richardson
C: Nate Robinson

I don't know about you, but I'd go to see that team play.

Sorrow Will Come In The End

"And as sure as my words are pure.....I praise the day that brings you pain"

I'm generally not a very angry person. I get frustrated easily, but it really takes a lot to piss me off. A man named Burke Magnus, however has gone above and beyond the call of duty this week, with his recent comments to the Cincinnati Enquirer regarding ESPN's decision to carry the Crosstown Shootout on ESPNU. Have a look:

Burke Magnus, ESPNU's vice president and general manager, said sports tiers offer far fewer subscribers than digital basic cable subscribers. This means less exposure - and ultimately revenue - for his channel that offers quality content like the Crosstown Shootout.

And ESPN is working hard to protect that content. Local station WXIX (Channel 19) approached ESPN about showing a split feed of Wednesday's game locally, but ESPN ended the discussion after two conversations.

Regarding this year's Crosstown Shootout, Magnus said the game isn't good enough to be on ESPN or ESPN2, carried by Time Warner.

"ESPNU is here to give the game a home," Magnus said. "Mick (Cronin) is a new UC coach, and UC isn't projected to have one of their better years. Believe me, when it's back to two Top 25 teams playing, it will probably be on ESPN or ESPN2."

But the Shootout is more than a game in Cincinnati - it's an event. Ratings on either ESPN or ESPN2 have been above 13.2 four of the past five years, none of which featured both teams in the Top 25.

Okay let me get this straight fuckface; ESPNU is "giving the game a home" even though no one in the Greater Cincinnati area can watch it without a satellite? Wow you guys are great people! Why don't you give a Taco Bell Gordita a home in your stomach and die of E.Coli while you're at it. Oh and wait, I love how he comes out so strong in the last quote "Believe me, when it's back to two Top 25 teams playing, it will probably be on ESPN or ESPN2." Oh, then it will probably make it on ESPN 2! You are so kind and generous, oh beneficent Lord of television programming! What a wonderful television network you're creating by using loyal fans as pawns and preventing them from watching one of the biggest local sporting events of the year! Go fuck yourself ESPN, ESPNU, and Burke Magnus. You could've at least let a local station PAY YOU to air the game in the area. You guys are just a bunch of degenerates. I can't even write any more I'm so angry. I'll just leave the rest to Morrissey:

So dont close your eyes (ESPN)
Dont ever close your eyes
You think you've won
Oh no

By the way, If you haven't listened to the track referenced in this post yet, download it immediately. Your reward will be great and plentiful.

Sweet and Tender Hooligan(s)

He swore that he'd never never do it again....not until the next time

The Bengals took care of business this Sunday, defeating the hapless Oakland Raiders 27-10. The offense moved the ball more or less at will against a very good Raiders D, not punting once the entire game. Turnovers were the only thing holding the Bengals back, with Palmer throwing three picks and Rudi fumbling (for the first time since 2004) in Raider territory. TJ, CJ, and Rudi all went for over 100 yards while the defense consistently got pressure on Aaron Brooks, sacking him four times. The win gives the Bengals an 8-5 record and the lead in the AFC wild card race thanks to losses from Denver, KC, and the Jets. The Bengals are right where they want to be.

A few thoughts....

1. Everyone keeps saying that the Raiders are the new Bungles (90's Bengals), but I think Oakland's still got a ways to go. Right now they appear to be in their Bengals circa 94 phase, experiencing only their fourth year of dismalness. Aaron Brooks looks a little like Jeff Blake, only worse (which is ironic since he took Blake's job in New Orleans), but other than having consistently dreadful teams and scrambling QB's with accuracy problems, there's not a whole lot in common between the present Raiders and the old Bengals. The 90's Bengals were known for their high powered offenses with WRs Carl Pickens and Darnay Scott and terrible defenses (one of their starting CB's, Rod Jones, was nicknamed "toast"), while the present Raiders have the worst offense in the NFL and a very good defense.

Regardless, the inverse of this argument seems to work a lot better. The Bengals look a lot like a talented Raiders team from the 80's that just might have a few character issues (read: a ridiculous amount of players with arrest records). The latest members of the Bengals Brotherhood of the Breathalyzer are Reggie McNeal and Deltha O'Neal, a couple of good Irish kids. They join Eric Steinbach, Odell Thurman, A.J. Nicholson, Matthias Askew, Frostee Rucker, and of course, the founding member, Chris Henry. A couple of these guys actually were charged with crimes before they ever played for the Bengals, but I think that's really just a testament to the organization's nose for finding criminally-minded football players. The police should actually use the Bengals' scouting department in a kind of Minority Report capacity to prevent crimes before they happen. Just throw everyone the Bengals are thinking of drafting next year in jail RIGHT NOW. This could really help the war on crime. Wait, there's no war on crime? Let's see, terror....drugs...nope, no war on crime. Well fuck it then, let em' play.

2. McNeal just received an additional drug charge on top of his resisting arrest rap. He apparently laced a cigarette with some kind of an antihistamine that can be used as a sedative. Maybe he should've smoked it before he started smacking up that undercover cop.

3. I kind of wish that other cities could experience the level of coverage that the major New York teams (Mets, Yankees, Giants) receive. The Bengals would be a gold mine for cheesy back page headlines from the Post or the News. Yesterday would've been "DELTHA GROUNDED!". Or after Thurman's arrest for a DUI: "WALK THE LINE...BACKER". Okay, I'll stop now.

4. O'Neal got arrested at a checkpoint on State Route 125 at Bach Buxton Road, which is about a mile away from where I grew up in Clermont County (or for those of you unfamiliar with the area, between the 3rd and 4th Dairy Marts after the interstate). I was a little surprised that Deltha was driving around out there, because, as far as I know, the only strip club in Clermont County is on State Route 32, right around where Chris Henry was pulled over for his DUI (now that made sense). Maybe Deltha thought that the mile markers on 125 heading toward the town of Bethel said "Brothel 12 miles" instead of "Bethel 12 miles". Pure speculation.