Red vs Blue... at the Rose Bowl

Ah, LA in September.  Living in this great city around this time is so interesting.  The baseball season is winding down and both the Dodgers and Angels are almost out of their respective playoff races.  The NFL season has just started and, as everyone knows, the second biggest market in the United States that used to have two NFL teams, at the same time, is entering its nineteenth consecutive season without one.  That alone is an amazing fact to consider.  There is no professional football in America’s second biggest market and one of the most revered cities in the world.  Although perhaps that’s just a technical distinction, as we’ve joked here before, because they do still arguably have a pro team… the University of Southern California Trojans!  Zing!  Aw, but, c’mon, they’ve paid their penalties for that!  Or one hopes so at least, (in so far as it is possible that is, given the inherent hypocrisy of the major College-Football-Program scene.)

The Stadium was actually packed.  This was halftime.  

Anyway, the lack of an NFL team doesn’t really seem to have much affected the sports nature of the city though.  People are extremely passionate about their Dodgers, and USC for their football, and UCLA for their college basketball.  UCLA is legendary in hoops, but a perennial after-thought during the football season.  So when a few of my Nebraska friends (some living here already, others flying in direct) told me they were coming in for a Huskers game against UCLA, I thought, “great, shouldn’t be too hard to get a ticket.”

I live in Culver City, just south of Westwood, where the beautiful UCLA campus nestles into the landscape.  I have been there a few times, once for a basketball game at the immortal John Wooden’s court, and a handful of other times just to hang out in the area.  Friends of mine across the country, who went to school there, are always jealous to know the times that I’ve stopped into the great ice-cream spot Diddy Riese for a bite.  They just can’t stop talking about that place! 

But on the football front, I hadn’t thought much about UCLA.  There certainly wasn’t a large football stadium on or near the campus, so at first I didn’t even know where they’d play their games.  Stupidly, as it turns out, because of course they play in Pasadena… at the Rose Bowl!  That stadium has to be used for something else right?  Not just the Rose Bowl!  Suddenly I got excited.  I’d love to go to the Rose Bowl, hang out with friends, and watch their storied Nebraska team dismantle the overmatched Bruins.     

What a beautiful afternoon for a football game.  Located just north of the Ventura Freeway in the Arroyo Brookside park, the stadium is everything that you’d imagine it to be.  You can just feel the history.   Outside of the stadium there is a Carnival with rides and games, and when you get in to the stadium, there are more outdoor concessions surrounding it.  But once you’re actually in, no frills, just football, the way that it should be.  Simple.  And you can tell that the UCLA faithful like it that way.  They believe in their team even though, given their spotty history, no one else in the country does. 

As I expected there was a huge contingent of red within the stadium, entire sections in fact.  The Husker state represented enormously and enthusiastically.  I have to note here the particular phenomenon that I experienced, having worked twice now, in Nebraska.  They LOVE the Cornhuskers.  It’s beyond just football.  I’ve seen that level of passion frequently in American college sports, but never before had I seen an entire state so united behind one flag. 

While I was in high school and college in Florida, for instance, the state was split between the University of Florida, Florida State, and even the Miami Hurricanes.  Texas has the Longhorns, Texas Tech, Texas A&M, Baylor. Even Oklahoma has Oklahoma State.  In Nebraska, it’s one team.  One.  And it’s so clear.  If you ever talk to someone from Nebraska, just mention the Huskers and they beam.  It’s their birthright.  And they’re proud, because they’ve had great years.  Three national championships in the last eighteen years and a whole bunch of Big 12 championships bring that kind of devotion.  And especially after joining the Big 10 last year, I’ve pulled for the Huskers to win that conference.  Because, c’mon, it’s about time Ohio State and Wisconsin had some competition (cough cough, sorry Michigan friends.)  Coming into the game, the Huskers were ranked number 16 in the country, UCLA, not at all.    

So as I drove to the game, I was expecting a big win, but my more educated Nebraska friends were cautious.  They weren’t crazy about what they’d seen from their team so far.  One of my favorite moments during the game, was when the UCLA fans, wanting to give the Nebraska faithful some grief, started chanting, “OVER-RATED”… clap clap, clap clap clap, “OVER-RATED”… clap clap, clap clap clap!  Steve looked at me and Erinn and said editorially… “Yea!  You think we don’t know that already???” 

Nebraska fumbled away a few chances... 

It was a thrilling first half with a lot of scoring, including a 90 yard touchdown run by Nebraska quarterback Taylor Martinez.  The second half got tighter, but there were still clutch plays on offense and defense.  It basically came down to one play, one that Nebraska desperately needed.  It was a short route that should have been a touchdown.  A Husker wideout broke right and was completely alone by the sideline, a clear path to the endzone before him.  Martinez saw him all the way, and so did the entire stadium.  The UCLA fans groaned, Nebraska fans stood in anticipation, it was a broken defensive assignment!  He was wide open.  The receiver appeared to be looking right at Martinez as he threw it, but then something strange happened.  He froze. 

... as the diehards held their breath.

As the ball was coming toward him he waited, his arms down.  He waited, and still waited.  The ball passed right by his helmet, his hands still down, and suddenly he flailed his arms awkwardly as he saw something in his peripheral and realized what had happened.  But it was too late.  He hadn’t even seen the pass.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  He saw Martinez throw.  Did he think he faked it?  He must have lost it in the lights, although to me, because of the angle, it didn’t seem like that was possible.  Either way it was a huge blow for the Huskers.  The ball landed out of bounds, as the red throngs watched in disbelief, and the drive ended with a field goal.  And it wouldn’t be enough, because UCLA had no intention of letting this one slip away.  

The Bruins made some wonderful plays on offense and eventually it carried them to a thrilling and improbable win.  The underdog came up big against the storied Nebraska program.  But even Husker fans have to admit this is a feel good ending.  Not only was the UCLA football team an underdog in this game, and an underdog within their own city, but they are underdogs on their own campus!  Second class citizens to the hardwood heroes.  

You could feel some of those demons being exorcised last night, as they realized their achievement.  The crowd was obviously extremely excited, but you could also see the surprise underneath.  Like this was new territory for them.

Today UCLA is in the top 25 at number 22, and Nebraska has slipped out.  And while I feel bad for Steve, Scott, Chris, Erinn, both Joes, and all the rest of Husker Nation, I’m not too worried for them.  They still have a chance to come out of the Big 10, and I’ll root for them against everybody in that conference.  And it was great to hang out with you guys while you were here.  Thanks for the invite!    

But meanwhile, I’ve found a new interest in the PAC-12 and the upstart UCLA football team.  Can the Bruins ride this momentum?  Can they become a Cinderella Story and shock the world by de-throning USC while finally claiming this city for their own?  After seeing them last night, I think they can.  

And wouldn’t that be Rosy?

Thanks for reading.

Underdogs out!

Olympic London...

The last time the Olympics happened it was in Beijing.  It was only four years ago, but it seems like much more.  I had been in Beijing in 2006, and Seoul, Korea as well that year, where the first Olympics that I remember happened in 1988.  (Okay, I remember Carl Lewis and Ben Johnson.)  The Olympics was amazing then and it is amazing now.  

A friend of mine made a point the other day.
One that I had never thought of.  Everybody runs.
It's not specific, like water polo or archery.
It's just, simply running.  And this guy is the fastest ever.  

In sports, our perfect tournament is College Basketball’s NCAA Final Four, our greatest American sporting event is the Superbowl, the baseball pennant races are historic, and the greatest international event is the World Cup.  But the Olympics is something completely unto itself.  It is so much more than a sporting event.  It is a wonderful testament to us.  To mankind, to civilization.  It is right at the heart of what captures our imaginations; humans pushing their physical limits on a global stage, and bringing people together.  It’s beautiful. 

Thinking hypothetically about a utopian planet.  Thinking about advanced beings living in peace and harmony (the stuff that science fiction has touched on for 50 years) it would seem like the way to that place for those (real or unreal) societies must have included an event like this.  Along the evolution to a higher understanding, in becoming a brilliant conglomerate of sentient beings that don’t need war or wealth to validate their existence, something like the Olympics must have taken place allowing for the eventual enlightenment.  Think of how far we have come on this planet, just in the last hundred years.  Before the internet and a general acceptance, or at least understanding, of the many different cultures in the world, the Olympics was at the heart of it.  Forcing people from distant countries to look at each other.

Yes, it was in the spirit of competition and patriotism and sometimes tensions ran high, but intermixed was the notion of an eventual global oneness.  Think of what that was like a hundred years ago.  What was it like, in that time, to realize that people that don’t look like you from places you’ve never been and will probably never go, really aren’t that different from you after all?

That deep down, we all want the same things.

Those notions have to be the precursor to the (at least now) imagined advanced civilizations of science fiction.  And because of it, the Olympics is still the preeminent sports event on our planet.  It brings everyone together in ways that nothing else could.  It's what we keep saying about sports.  It transcends.  It truly has a beautiful and amazing power.    

But outside of the bigger (or intergalactic) picture, the beauty of the Olympics for me has always been the attention that is brought to so many sporting events that normally don’t enter into the global conscience.  Handball, water polo, archery, fencing, diving.  There are no mulit-million dollar contracts waiting for these athletes (even if they win gold medals.)  They are complete amateurs, in it for the love, in it for the passion.  

London was filled with these hopefuls this summer.  And as we watched the closing ceremonies last night I realized that, one of the greatest cities in the world may have pulled off the perfect Olympics.  I was going to go, but I didn’t.  Man.... I definitely should have :)

To all my British friends.  Thanks for the invite.  Sorry I didn’t make it. 

But the Underdogs were alive and well.  
And you guys nailed it!

Thanks for reading.
Underdogs out.         

The Anti-Underdog...

Kinda hurts to see it right?

In the wake of the Miami Heat’s likely, then-un-likely, then-likely again, championship capper to their NBA season, everyone knows that one of the biggest questions in sports has been answered.  Would LeBron ever climb the mountaintop?  Asked and answered now.  And just as sure as I was that Oklahoma City would win in the Finals coming off their incredible series against the Spurs, was the fact that Miami was better.  They matched up incredibly defensively against the Thunder and just took the life out of them.  Something that I truly thought was impossible.  Well, I was wrong.  (Unfortunately for underdog fans everywhere too, because it’s only going to get harder from here.  Yikes.)  Last year we narrowly avoided it, but here we are.  Our worst fear realized.            

Anyway, I can’t think of anything more predictable, or typical, than a psychological retrospective on LeBron James.  Or perhaps introspective.  Either way, in spite of the idea’s complete unoriginality, I’m going to do it… because it’s just so fascinating!  Why?

Because he is and has always been, the opposite of an underdog.

Okay.  Here’s where we start. 

High School, with NBA headband

There’s never been a more talented player in NBA history than LeBron.  In that regard, he is the best ever.  But, that doesn’t tell the whole story.  He is also a product of his time.  Jordan, Magic, Bird, Kareem, Oscar, Wilt, Russell, West; they were all products of their time too, but none of them were times like these.  LeBron grew up a celebrity.  He was a superhero at age 15.  He was on magazine covers and ESPN aired games because he was in them.  He could have been the number one pick in the NBA draft after his sophmore year… of high school!  Other players have been there maybe, but never in an era where that kind of ability could be worth $300 million.  It’s just pure economics.  What would you do?  How would you be?

As Jordan was transcendent, he was made possible by Magic.  Magic was made possible by Doctor J.  Doctor J was made possible by Jerry West and Elgin Baylor, who were made possible by Oscar Robertson.  All of basketball’s greatest can be traced back through the generations.  It’s just the nature of things.  It’s evolution.  Inevitably players get better and the game changes.  Wilt was an anomaly; his numbers, biblical.  Baylor moved like no guard ever had before.  Magic was a 6-9 point guard who challenged all of the conventions of that all-important position.  And Michael was… Michelangelo. 

So what is LeBron?  A hybrid of all of the above.  The inevitable result of generations of natural selection.  He can do anything on the court; play at any speed, above the rim or on the perimeter, he can defend any position.  From a basketball point of view, he is truly miraculous.  But that’s the easy part.  That doesn’t begin to explain things.

It takes incredibly hard work to get to where LeBron James is.  It takes an amazing work ethic and attention to detail, but where is the source of that passion?  What is the driving force?  For Jordan it was a lifelong desire to disprove the naysayers, no matter how long ago he was doubted.  For Magic and Bird, it was the need for one to out-do the other, but before that, they were doubted too. 

For James, it isn’t so simple.  He was never doubted.  It all seemed so easy.  His desire to become great probably started early in high school out of fun and a sense of pride for himself as he started to live up to his growing fame.  But then it expanded into an extraordinary opportunity to make ungodly amounts of money, to support his family and friends.  And as with any business venture, there must be multiple motivations, and that’s where it becomes fascinating. 

He is a product of a yes-man life-style, an AAU system that pretty much pre-ordains NBA millions; did anyone ever give him tough love?  Who was going to give him honest advice?  Who was going to really coach the guy?  It seems like no one even really tried it.  Almost like he was too good for that or something.  He was never heavily scrutinized.  Never villified.  But that all changed in 2010 when he shocked the world by joining his biggest rival in Miami in one of the most awkward live events in television history.  It was unprecedented and remains so. 

After seven years in Cleveland, giving every ounce of his energy, all of his blood sweat, and tears, to an organization that did very little to help him, he decided to leave.  Not for New York, and the chance to resurrect the wayward Knicks, not to Chicago, where he would have had the best chance to win, but to Miami.  Where Dwayne Wade practically plays the same position!  It made no sense to the traditional sports person.  You’re supposed to want to demolish your rivals… not join them!  It baffled us.  But therein lies LeBron James.  How could we possibly know what we expected him to do?  He grew up in the light, and has been living in a glass house ever since.  A never sleeping media covers and dissects his every move, desperate for any content they can supply to an insatiable sports public.  If he bought a different kind of toothpaste it would be news.  How does that affect someone psychologically? 

Like most of us, he wanted to be liked.  And because he cared, he paid attention… he wanted to know how people viewed him, and he tried to say the right things.  But the problem was it always seemed like he was trying to say the right things.  So it never seemed genuine.  And sports fans hate this.  He seemed too aware of things.  Because he was; and as the first athlete to be subjected to this kind of scrutiny he was basically one big case-study on the affect that mass-media and an empowered public, (through twitter, blogs, facebook, and podcasts) can have on someone’s psyche.  What happens to you?  Can you ever be real?

For years LeBron couldn’t figure it out.  He towed the line between defiant bravado and a universal need for acceptance.  He craved it too much and it showed.  And it over-shadowed the fact that he is most likely the best basketball player we’ve ever seen.  It’s bad news for the rest of the NBA now, because in the Finals, he figured it out.  Simply put:    

Nothing that anyone said (media or fans or other players) mattered. 

He finally dug deep, and just let it be about basketball.  Easy to say and think I guess, but maybe not so easy to do.  All he had to do was play the way that we all knew he could play, and let the clock run out.  And he was absolutely brilliant.  For years, I’d been so happy that he seemed to have ignored this fact.  But now that he’s unlocked this drive deep within himself, it stands to reason that he will be able to go back to that place over and over.  And frankly, it’s going to be downright scary for the league; and bad for underdogs everywhere. 

But then I guess, someone has to do it.  Should we thank him?  After all, where would underdogs be without… the anti-underdog? 

You know his name.

Well we will find out starting next year, because this is our new reality.
From now on, in the NBA, ugh... the Heat is on.                          

The Thunderstorm...

I am still in shock from what I saw four nights ago. 

The Spurs dominated the first half, clicking on all cylinders.  They looked as good as a basketball team could possibly look while cruising to an eighteen point lead.  Everyone was contributing and it looked like we were headed for a game seven. 

But then the second half happened.  Wow.

The Oklahoma City Thunder made every possible adjustment on defense, locking in and shutting down the high octane Spurs, and at the same time they somehow raised their offensive game to a level I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before. The Spurs did not collapse, they were collapsed.  They didn’t blow the lead, it was outright snatched from them, in every way. The Spurs played great in this series, but the Thunder were even better, and they left absolutely no doubt.  They are the best team in the league.     

Let’s put it this way.  If you watched these games you'd have to think that the Spurs would have beat the Heat in 4 and the Celtics in 4, maybe 5.  Right?  And the Thunder just beat them.  It’s true folks.  The Eastern Conference Finals was only a formality.  The NBA champion has already been crowned. 

Even so, I do want to talk about the East a little bit.  It was a great shame for America that the Celtics dropped game six so hard at home the other night.  Wasn’t it?  It’s hard to explain what happened.  Or even what it looked like.  You would think that the Celtics might have been tired, or that injuries had caught up to them, (or their well documented age,) but on the court it just looked like a lack of effort.  Everyone was a step slow, Doc Rivers couldn’t inspire them, and they looked like a different team from what we had seen so far in the series. Even Rondo didn’t seem as aggressive as he had been up until then, and he seemed about half as fast as he had been earlier in the series, (or maybe that’s just an optical illusion after watching Tony Parker against Russell Westbrook.  The fastest I’ve ever seen.) 

Which leads me to a point (or tangent) that I’m sad and shocked that I haven’t heard anyone make on ESPN yet… here we go, ready?  Ahem.

It looked like the East and West were playing two different sports!

Didn’t it?  San Antonio against Oklahoma City was unbelievable basketball.  Fluid, exacting, they spaced the floor perfectly, great passing, great transition games, and great defense.  And so fast!  It was incredible that the older Spurs could keep up, but they did.  Nothing was arbitrary in that series.  They were both meticulous, and well coached, always moving the ball, making the extra pass, almost always getting a good shot.  It just turns out that Oklahoma City was the better of the two.  But what would they have looked like against the Celtics in that last game? (when they really started clicking, at a level that I’m sure even surprised them?)  They would have won by 50.  Against the Heat?  They would have won by 50!  I’m telling you.  There is no way either of those teams would have stayed in the same building with them.  They are that much better.  Or at least they were against the Spurs. 

For Miami everything is arbitrary. There is never any flow.  Do they ever run an offense? LeBron makes it look okay when he is making shots, and he has been miraculous so far in the playoffs, because he’s that good as a player, but Miami has serious issues on offense.  Issues that they would never have if Gregg Popovich was their coach.  By the way (quick tangent within the tangent) Could you IMAGINE how good LeBron would be if Pop was his coach.  Woah, that just got really scary.  Anyway, I would have loved watching the Spurs absolutely dissect and dismantle the Heat in that hypothetical series.  It wouldn’t have been close.  And it would have been so wonderful to see.

But here in reality, all we get is the real, so it’s The Thunder against the Heat in the NBA Finals.  Which is definitely a great matchup.  For the league and for purists, and for the public.  It has everything that you’d want.  Big Three vs Big Three, LeBron vs Durant, a team hastily constructed against a team organically grown, glitz and glamour vs… well, Oklahoma City.  I love where this can go.  There is intrigue galore.

I just hope that Scotty Brooks can get his team hyped up and focused enough to continue playing as well as they were when they closed out the Spurs.  Because if they can play to that level then it will be a sweep.  Miami would have absolutely no chance.  But if the Thunder “play down,” as can very often happen in sports, especially with young teams, or if they get caught up in the sideshow of the Finals; or if they get intimidated by the fact that two of the best three players in the world are on the same team, against them, then Miami may have a chance in the series. Miami is a good high screen, perimeter defensive team, because of their length, and that’s the Thunder’s strength, so one might give them a fighter’s chance.  But if the Thunder play like they did on Thursday night… there is no chance.  None.    

So a lot of this will depend on Thunder coach Scotty Brooks.  It’s like he has the keys to an untested, hyper-dynamic marvel of technology.  No one is really sure how much it is capable of yet, including him.  Attitude will go a long way.  Maybe he needs to hypnotize them into believing they are still playing the Spurs.  The team that pushed them to a supernatural level.

The Thunder deserve the title.  They went through the Lakers, Mavericks, and Spurs to get here.  Three teams that combine to account for 10 of the last 13 NBA Championships.  Meanwhile, the Heat struggled with Indiana, and bumbled their way through an injury depleted East.  But as we know, there is no justice in the NBA playoffs.  You have to show up.  It's zero-zero, right now.        

So there you have it.  

There's the rub.  Once again.  It’s Luke vs the Death Star.

So this must be Return of the Jedi, right?  (We need a picture of Kevin Durant with a light saber and LeBron James with a heavy hooded cloak.)  

Let’s do this America…

It’s time for the NBA FINALS!

The Real...

Over the last nine months I took a break.  Personal issues in my life and a job situation that was rather isolating, moved me to a peculiar place mentally and emotionally.  I was frustrated, I was disenchanted.  I wanted no part of the world as it was before.  I wanted to get away from myself.  In a lot of ways I didn’t want to be happy, or maybe I wanted to find a new way to be happy.  Either way, for whichever the most appropriate or significant reason, about nine months ago for the first time in my life, I decided that I didn’t care about sports.

But that’s another story for another day.  This blog is about today.  And as I find myself thrust back into the real world (and the real America,) I’ve let myself re-enter interest, at least somewhat, into a place that has been so familiar to me over my lifetime; not just sports, but the best one, the NBA playoffs.  Honestly though, it was only of mild interest to me for the first few rounds, which of course was a huge change from past years.  It wasn’t all that important to me who won or lost, or that they were playing at all really, but every few days I would check the scores to see who had advanced.  It was familiar, but it certainly didn’t command that much of my attention.  But then about a week and half ago, things changed.  I started watching the Conference finals.

In short, these have been the most compelling two Conference finals matchups (taking place at the same time) that I can ever remember.  And that is really saying something.  For numerous and varying reasons, they have both been absolutely captivating.  Like, you-have-to-see-the-entire-game kind of captivating!  When has that ever happened in the NBA?  I’ve considered myself a huge NBA fan for more than 20 years, but if it wasn’t “my team” that was playing (in the Conference Finals or NBA Finals,) I was fine with missing the first quarter, or even the first half.  Hell, what’s the hurry right?  If it’s a blowout, the team that’s behind will come back and make it close.  All the real action happens in the third and fourth quarters anyway, right?  Every fair-weather fan knows that!!!  Well, not this time.  And for so many reasons.  Let’s start with the West. 

The San Antonio Spurs vs The Oklahoma City Thunder.

You could put aside the similarity of these two teams.  The small market financial limitations aspect, the brilliant way in which the teams were assembled (each team’s best four players were drafted and developed by them,) the complimentary way the players fit together, how deep each team is.  You could even ignore the fact that the architect of this Oklahoma City team, Sam Presti, used to work for San Antonio, and basically stole the entire “blueprint” and philosophy.  (Really, he was just doing what every NBA team should have done.  Y’know, wwtsasd?  What-Would-the-San-Antonio-Spurs-Do?) 

You could completely discard all of that, and the obvious old-verses-young, “changing of the guard” storyline.  Plus the other similarities.  Like the unusually humble superstar (Durant and Duncan,) each team’s unbelievably skilled and lightning fast floor general (Westbrook and Parker,) and each team’s all-star third option, usually coming off the bench even! (Harden and Ginobili.)  Or even the similarities of the fan bases.  Each team is the only “major league” game in an otherwise “minor league” town, and each building is rocking with intense fans. 

Of course there is one major difference there.  The San Antonio fans have basically had fourteen years of a basketball utopia.  The Spurs have been the best team in the league over that span (apologies to the Lakers,) always contending and winning four championships along the way. (They would have won more if they weren’t in the brutal West.)  The Oklahoma City crowd has had none of that.  The team has only been in town for four years, and while they’ve been improving every year, they’ve always been a young team, full of potential but lacking experience.  Still both fan bases love their teams unconditionally, and that can’t be said about too many of the teams in the NBA. 

So basically these two teams are bizarro versions of each other.  One created in the other’s image trying to ascend and usurp the throne.  The other trying desperately to defend the young challenger’s assault and remain on top.

But, you could throw all of that stuff completely out the window.  And you’d still have to watch every minute of these games.  Why?  Well.  Because they are playing the best basketball we’ve ever seen.

Plain and simple. 

When I saw the first two games of this series I was amazed.  The Spurs played incredibly well, and won both games.  But what was so compelling was the fact that the Thunder were playing brilliantly too.  Offensively and defensively, both teams were just awesome.  I’ve never seen a better matchup.  It was just perfect basketball.  Whoever had enough energy at the end was going to get the win, but it was going to be impossibly hard.  Two things became clear to me at that point.

First, whichever team wins the Eastern Conference will not win ONE game against either of these teams in the Finals. Neither the Heat or Celtics will stand a chance. These two are, by far, the best two teams in the league.  And secondly, this series was all going to depend on adjustments.  Which coach would be able to make the changes necessary to get any possible edge, and will his team through the thick of it, to do the incredible?  Because it was going to be unbelievably difficult.

So now it all comes down to game 6 tonight in Oklahoma City.  And it feels like a game 7 really, because neither team can really afford to lose.  Who will have the will and the skill to finish with the win?  Tonight we’ll find out.    

It’s been nothing short of amazing so far.  Seriously. 

If you love basketball… it doesn’t get any better than this.    

Underdogs out.      

              

     

Tebow; the Ultimate Underdog...

There are those who seem to have the respect of all of those around them right from the outset.  They have all of the right abilities, determination, and leadership qualities that they need to climb to the top of their craft, and doing so seems like a natural ascension.  Regarding football, this was the case for Tim Tebow.  From pee-wee football, through Middle School and High School, all the way up to the most prestigious Football University in his home state, Tebow embodied success.  He won at every level and eventually won the respect and adoration of everyone who ever saw him play.  By the time he left the University of Florida he had captured two National titles, a Heisman Trophy, and the attention of the whole country.  But no one knew what would come next.

Every sports fan knows who Tim Tebow is.  Droves of college football fans couldn’t stand him when he was at Florida, while countless others crossed school and conference (and maybe even religious) allegiances to root for the guy.  But when the NFL draft came around last year after Tebow’s final season in college, everyone could agree on one thing.  He didn’t stand a chance in the Pros. 

The opinions came early and often from everywhere.  Tebow’s success and leadership came from an intense passion.  He possessed an incredible set of intangibles and a determination that was unrivaled perhaps in college football history, but in the NFL those attributes just wouldn’t translate.  In the history of the league there had never been a player like him that any “expert” could relate him to.  There was no way to predict a path for him.  He was a running quarterback who relied on his strength and power, over any type of passing accuracy.  But the only successful “running” quarterbacks the league had ever seen had been super fast and agile athletes who could also much more ably sling the ball downfield.  Tebow, on the other hand, appeared more like the Fullbacks of old , that don’t even really exist in the league anymore, than any quarterback (Tom Rathman, John Riggins anyone?) but ultimately his inferior passing skills and the much larger size of defensive players he would face sealed the expectation for his NFL career.  The verdict was in.  Tebow was a great kid, and one of the best college football players of all time, but he had no future in Football.   

For the first time in his life he was an underdog. 

As a Florida Gator I am biased when it comes to Tim Tebow.  When he was a true freshman he played a bizarre, but extremely important role on a National Championship team as a 3^rd or 4^th down quarterback.  Every now and then he would jump under center to run for short yardage (and almost always pick it up.)  The defenses knew he was going to run it, but somehow he always seemed to get the yardage the team needed.  I’d never seen anything like it.  I’d never seen football even played that way before.  Normally if you wanted to run it you’d hand it to a runningback right?  But with Tebow in there running the option, he could keep it, pitch it, pass for short yardage, or even jump pass it (like a basketball move) which I don’t think anyone had ever seen.  Right from the beginning you could tell that there was something different about this kid.  And over the next four years, the Gators invented an offense around his skill set, and had great success in the process.  But even I had huge reservations about Tebow having any type of NFL career.  It just seemed impossible.  So I was shocked when I saw that the Denver Broncos took him in the first round.  Beyond shocked really.  I thought they had made a huge mistake. 

The fans didn’t feel that way though.  His Number 15 became one of the highest selling NFL jerseys overnight.  I was shocked to see it last year, when I was able to visit the Bronco’s practice facility during training camp.  Tebow Jerseys were everywhere!  Maybe even half of the fans there.  Whole families were wearing number 15.  He hadn’t even played a single down for the team!  And he was projected to be the third string quarterback.  What in the world was going on? 

The fans sensed that none of that negative stuff mattered, and that all of the doubters would just make him stronger.  After years of mediocrity in Denver, maybe they needed Tebow.  Beyond football, maybe they needed something to believe in.  In a way, Tebow became the ultimate underdog, and it endeared him to that fan base in a way that I never expected.  It seemed like nobody else believed in him, and that included team management.  Shortly after Tebow was drafted, former Bronco great (and all-time great passer) John Elway took over as General Manager, and guess what…  Elway never would have drafed Tebow.  As quarterbacks they represent polar opposites.  Tebow couldn’t avoid the scrutiny even in his own clubhouse, and it looked like he would never even get on the field.

So the fans put up a billboard.  No seriously.  They bought time on a giant billboard and advertised their plea for Bronco’s management to start Tebow.  They brought signs to the stadium.  They chanted his name.  They called into radio shows and begged the team to trade starting quarterback Kyle Orton and start Tebow.  Never before in NFL history had a team been in this position before.  It was a daily question.  When would Tebow start?  How long can management anger the fans?  Will they have to start him to avoid an all out fan boycott?  It was like the film Rudy, but in real life.  Crazy stuff. 

Eventually toward the end of the season, the Broncos were so bad that it didn’t matter anymore, and management gave in.  They might as well give the rookie some time.  And he did well; inspiring the players around him with his contagious enthusiasm and leading the team back for a couple of meaningless victories.  But the doubters were still there in full force.  No one thought he could be a full time quarterback in the league, and coming into this year the jury was still out.  Once again he would not be the starter.  He would have to earn it.  And of course, he did. 

After becoming the starter 5 weeks ago, Tebow is 4-1 as the Broncos Quarterback this season.  7-2 in his career.  Perpetuating the notion that in spite of his offensive “limitations” he is somehow able to win.  There can be no statistic to verify this, but somehow… the guy just wins.  Even Elway has to admit that.  And the Bronco fans Love it!  But of course Tebow’s future is still uncertain.  Eventually, NFL defenses will adjust and it will be get harder and harder for him to do the things he’s most comfortable doing.  Can he overcome it?  Can he adapt his game too?  Can he defy the enormous odds he faced in regards to succeeding in the NFL?  These are the great questions, and ultimately only time will tell.  But in the meantime, how can you root against him?

Is it possible?

He’s become the ultimate underdog.  

And we love this stuff.   

Thanks for reading!

Oh What A Night... The Tampa Bay Rays and Destiny...

Noooooooo Waaaaaaaay!... that just happened.  (or)  Oh, what a night!  (or) A meditation on how the final games of the regular season in 2011 may have been the single greatest night of baseball in Major League history.

You gotta be kidding me!

So, just like that, I am headlong back into baseball.  What an incredible couple of hours we experienced last night!  It just goes to show you that if you can have a final night of the season like that, you can recapture the hearts and minds of the country in a hurry.  Wow.  Four teams entered the night striving for the last two spots left in the playoffs; The Cardinals, Braves, Rays, and Red Sox.

The Cards won easily and guaranteed themselves at least one more game early on, but the other three games… were wild.  The Phillies scored in the ninth to tie up the Braves and then eventually broke their collective playoff hearts in the 13^th.  Baltimore scored two runs, with two outs in the bottom of the ninth to shock the Sox in dramatic fashion.  The Rays, on the other hand, took it to another level.

Watching the Rays last night was as close to watching a Sports Film as I’ve ever seen in real life.  The Rays were down seven to zero heading into the eighth inning.  It looked like curtains.  (Meanwhile the Red Sox were stuck in a rain delay leading Baltimore 3-2 in the 7th.)  It was looking like the Sox were going to win and, if the Rays were lucky, the best they could do was force a one-game playoff.  Yea.  All they had to do was score seven runs in two innings.  And, as we all know, that just doesn’t happen very often in baseball.  Well not in real life anyway…

But by the end of the eighth the Rays had incredibly closed to within one run at 7-6.  Whaaaaat?  Was this really happening?  You could see the looks on the faces of the Tampa fans.  They were excited, they felt the energy, but they had to be cautious.  They knew that those six runs wouldn’t matter at all if they couldn’t get just one more.  All over the stadium, diehard Rays fans were donning their Rally Caps, their faces frozen with an odd a mixture of disbelief, longing, elation, and extreme nervousness.

The next thing I knew it was the bottom of the ninth, Rays still down one.  There were two outs, and two strikes  Everything was on the line.  And up at the plate was a pinch hitter no one had ever heard of named Dan Johnson, whose batting average for the season was a less than balmy .105.  The Tampa announcers had already swerved into concession mode; they were thanking their producers and various crew members on a great season, thanking the fans for their support… the fans looked on with the expressions of condemned people awaiting their final moments, when, suddenly, CRACK!  A shot, deep to right!  He didn’t!  It’s not possible!!!  He did.  It’s GONE!  The crowd was in shock, as was I.  It was unreal.  The Rays had tied the game.  Were the Rally caps working???

Fast forward to the top of the 12th.  The Yankees had runners on the corners quickly with nobody out.  All they had to do was score one run to put the Ray’s hopes of advancing in serious jeopardy.  But they couldn't score.  It was just crazy.  And suddenly, Tampa was looking like a team of destiny.  They were not to be denied.  Not on this night.

Cut to the bottom of the 12^th. Two out.  The news of the Red Sox loss had spread throughout the stadium.  The Rays were guaranteed at least one more game, but you just felt that there weren't satisfied yet.  Up comes Evan (don’t call me Eva) Longoria.  The stadium was percolating.  They could feel it.  They knew it was happening.  Cue the heavily orchestrated underscore and the slow-motion tilt down from the Yankees pitcher (Scott Proctor) as he winds up, then cut to a slow-motion tilt up on Longoria, waiting intensely, his eyes focused like laser beams.  Here comes the pitch.  The crowd holds it's breath.  And then… CRACK!  It can’t be.  But it is.  It’s GONE.  Solo shot.  Game over.  The Rays had done it with a walk-off home run.  It’s what they used to write poems about… like Casey at the Bat.  It’s what grandfathers tell their grandkids… I’m telling you.  I’ve been around for years, and this stuff just doesn’t happen.  Not in real life.

The Rays (the sports world’s ultimate underdog) had gone from almost certainly being out of the playoffs, to solidifying their spot IN the playoffs within a span of about 20 minutes, and the Red Sox completed their historic collapse.  And the rest of us just went along for the ride.  The final drama of the Sox losing and the Rays winning actually happened within three minutes.  You couldn't script this stuff.  It’s why we love sports.  It’s why we just have to tune in at the end of the season.  And I know it seems like I say this every year, but I can't help it.  Baseball is back, folks.

No Rays fan will EVER forget what that game felt like last night.  And some fans go their whole lives without knowing that kind of elation.     

Because a night like last night was as close to magic as anything can be.
At least in real life. 

This is the Underdogs.

And we OUT!

Enjoy the Playoffs.