Pennant Races, Juvenile Advice, The Hangover II

Out of it by June 1? 


There was an article in the WSJ that observed how Major League Baseball teams with records below .500 at the opening of June have little/no chance of making it to the post-season. Of course, most Cub fans have resigned themselves to a baseball-less October by mid-May and if you live in Pittsburgh, you've already started the countdown to the Steelers' opener (Wha-...there's a strike? For the love of God, you're not going to take that away from us are you?)

Hey, at least we came to a Pirate game

I suspect that this kind of publicized report will send collective shivers down the owners' collective spineless spines. "Who will come to our games in July if we are out of it by June?" they will ask one another.

Their solution? I am willing to bet that they will use a strategy originally adopted by pre-K soccer moms who couldn't bear to watch their little angels suffer through the indignity of a 1-11 season without a little somethin' for the effort besides a polyester mesh jersey and a year-end Chuck E. Cheese party.

My child is no loser!

These thoughtful mothers came up with the "Everyone Gets a Trophy" plan so that their offspring wouldn't have to face the cruelty of losing during these formative years.

This strategy was later adopted by the NHL and the NBA when owners couldn't bear to see their millionaire players and significantly invested fans suffer through the indignity of cold, cruel winter nights without the chance of participating in truly meaningful (and more profitable) playoff games.

"So you're telling me that there's a chance?!"

Over half of the teams in both these leagues (16 of the 30 teams) manage to squeeze into the post-season competition...leaving the other half to go home without a ribbon, a "participation" certificate, or even a juice box (aka: "losers.")


The stingiest league is MLB, where only a quarter of the teams qualify (8 of 30); after that, it is the NFL, which allows over a third (12 of 32) into post-season play. My hope is that the baseball owners keep some integrity to the regular season so that the teams mired in 5th place by late July don't get some Wilder Wild Card reprieve that strings along their fans even further into the season, forcing them to waste their summers and money on sucky teams that would inevitably get waxed in the playoffs.


Fans can force ownership to take action by their indifference. Sadly, I am afraid that if playoff teams are added without eliminating any regular season, we'll be watching baseball in parkas, ski caps, and gloves...just like we did a couple of days ago.

Why is it that someone who has some simple theory of business success finds it analogous to something his/her kid would do or say...and then they need to share it with the world?

You've seen these columns/blogs/books; enlightened executives will stumble upon the ultimate sales advice or negotiating skill one morning as he happened to stop and listen to his child's gifted ramblings between milk-deprived tantrums.

"What my two-year-old son taught me about closing more deals" or "Everything I need to know about trading the Euro I learned from my twins"...stuff like that. Typically, the author presents the insight as if he has finally solved a problem so complex and intricate that the sharpest of men and women will stop and observe, "Why, that little tyke had it right all along! Why didn't I think of that? I get it now!"

While this juvenile advice may work in business, I have yet to see this kind of crafty insight creep into the world of golf analysis, "What that whining, crying, sniffling, gurgling, toddler can teach you about sand saves" or "How listening to my teenage daughter for 20 minutes a night added 10 yards to my drives." Now those I'd read.

Hey moron, swing slower and keep your head still

Hey, did you know that Hangover II is opening this weekend?

No really, there's a sequel! I kid you not...

I must have seen ten different versions of this preview a total of 50 times. This spot runs at least once during every sporting event that has occurred over the past month. Maybe I am watching too much sports on TV??? Hmm...wonder who the target market is for this film?

I have to admit that I have stopped the DVR a few times to catch that screaming monkey ("Joni...What are you doing!? Stop your fast forwarding, watch this! Check out Ed Helm's tat and just look at that monkey. Crazy stuff.")

And yes, I might just go see it this weekend.

We're baaack...

Gotta Hate the Heat

We Americans love our enemies.

We need someone (or something) that generates a requisite level of dislike and disgust so that we will root hard for the "right" side. In fact, when we are contemplating (or in) war, the government and media will fan the propaganda flames to make sure that the enemy is depicted as appropriately evil...often with good reason and with success.

We want a symbol that represents evil, something to focus our hatred upon. Usually, we get an appropriately horrible person that obliges.TIME magazine marks the disposal of such infamous arch enemies as Hitler, Hussein, Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, and now, Bin Laden with copy-less "X'd"-out covers. And since Osama is now trolling the North Arabian Sea, we'll need, and likely find, someone to take his place.

Sayonara suckas!

On a much less wicked and serious level, we sports fans love to root against our anti-heroes. We need teams and personalities to play the role of villains to stoke interest: the Russian Olympic hockey team vs. the good ol' US of A, the Miami Hurricanes vs. Penn State, Apollo Creed vs. Rocky, Capone vs. Kevin Costner, Rosie O'Donnell vs. Donald Trump (pick a side)...you get the idea.

You freakin' kiddin' me?

Who, but Detroit fans, could have cheered for the "Bad Boys?" Bill Laimbeer? C'mon...the guy would foul an opponent while he was still in a huddle and then give the ref that incredulous/dismissive look/laugh as if to say, "Me? Not me! You must be joking! Hah!"

Before the Oakland Raiders hit such a consistent level of incompetence, they took pride in providing a halfway house for the NFL's druggies, malcontents, and wife beaters. Part of their schtick was to gouge opponents eyes when refs had turned the other way, fumble forward to score winning touchdowns, and avoid personal hygiene for three days prior to Sunday; hell, even their fans would intimidate Mean Joe Greene.

For most baseball fans, their definition of evil is the New York Yankees. It's not that their roster is filled with hateful players...Mariano Rivera, Derek Jeter, and Jorge Posada smile, help sick kids, and respect the sport. It's just that the Yankees don't seem to play by the same rules that pertain to most other teams. They can throw as much money as is necessary to fix a problem. If you are a fan for a mid-market team, they are that bully lurking down the street ready to whisk away your best player with a fistful of cash and pinstriped promises.

You like us, you really like us...

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Miami Heat.

They are the NBA's version of the Duke Blue Devils...except that they have less white guys, no real basketball tradition, and an unknown coach...quick, name the Heat's head coach...ten seconds...five...gotcha!

It isn't that they are a collection of miscreants or truly bad guys...I am sure that Chris Bosh, Lebron James, and Dwyane Wade bought a card or a car for their moms last week. Wade seems likable in those T-Mobile commercials and I suspect LeBron lets his entourage swim in his pool and keeps them outfitted in an appropriate and tasteful amount of bling. Still, I cannot imagine anyone north of the Everglades rooting for these guys.

For most fans, this Heat trio represents all that is wrong with pro sports and free agency: greediness and disloyalty. And what about the photo above after they had signed last summer? What is it, exactly, that they are celebrating? They're excited about the possibility of success, not actual success. These sunbaked fans ate it up...hmmm, a bit premature and overconfident? We shall see...

Ironically, one could point out (to anyone but a Cleveland fan, I suggest) that they did exercise a very American right: their freedom of choice; but sports fans want their players faithful and patient. LeBron's legions had to suffer through many lean years, by God, and now that it is time to reap the rewards of all that hard work, careful drafting, and some "dues paying"...he sure as hell better not abandon us now when the gettin' is good!

So when James gave his heartfelt "takin' my talents to South Beach" speech to a rapt national audience, a villain was born.

I suspect that over the next couple of weeks, most basketball fans will buy into rooting for the Bulls (or certainly against the Heat) given that Chicago has the appropriate positive "ying" opposite the negative "yang" of these three vagabonds. (NOTE: I have conveniently ignored, for purposes of this column, that the Bulls did court Mr. James during last summer's LeBronapalooza, "Naaahhh...we didn't want him anyway!")

I owe it all to Momma....

Our star, Derrick Rose, is humble and home grown. The league called his press conference to announce his MVP and in his speech, he spent the entire time thanking his mother, teammates, coach, trainer, family, and anyone else that had touched his life.

A Derrick Rose interview is about as exciting as a trip to the paint store. But then he steps on the court and zzzziiipp...he scoots by his opponent faster than an aggressive groupie and finds some way to bank in a shot while landing butt first into a sea of photographers, emerging with a smile and a shrug.

So, count me in on a couple weeks (or a month) of Hatin' on the Heat. I'll take Rose and the rest of his Bulls against the evil southern empire.Who's with me?

I Got Yer Horse Right Here...Dave's Derby Analysis

I consider myself very fortunate to have attended the Kentucky Derby for about half of my life. As a native Louisvillian, it is a trip home almost every May that I thoroughly enjoy.

I have watched the race with Buds, fraternity brothers, clients, colleagues, old friends, my sister, my daughter, dates, parents, and wives.

Wife Joni on the first turn

Bill & Mary Ross Bratcher & Joni

Long-Time Bud Tom Tate

I have been soaked and sunned in the infield, on the first turn, at the finish line, and on the final stretch home and by golly, when we get to "...Weep No More My Lady" as we sing My Old Kentucky Home, I still get goose bumps.


I've been in the midst of such luminaries as Rick Dees, Fred Willard, MC Hammer, Daryl Hannah, Gene Wilder, Terry O'Quinn, Kirk Herbstreit, and the late, great Merv Griffin...I could go on and on, but you get the picture...

You may know me as Jerry Hubbard

Smile, Locke...you're off the island

RIP Merv, we hardly knew ye

The Kentucky Derby consistently delivers memorable year after memorable year. I still love it. I can tell you one other consistent trait of the Derby: my inability to pick the winner. My current streak stands at 15 straight years. 

Sorry ladies, both hitched

But that streak, my friends, is about to come to an abrupt end. I have decided to throw away all prior formulas to implement a much more sophisticated, thorough, and rigorous means of picking the winner of Derby 2011. This year, I introduce my just-released soon-to-be copyrighted approach...Dave's Derby Advantage or DDA. For my loyal blog readers, it is yours for free this year! That's right, FREE.

I know that a lot of players like to look at a horse's Beyer Speed Figure. This is a very complicated formula named after prominent turf writer Andy Beyer that uses a horse's prior race time, adjusts it by the overall speed of the track that day, then multiplies it by the GNP, adds in the O'Reilly Factor and subtracts the rate of inflation; the resulting figure is an index number. And to simplify the "Beyer" even further for you dopes out there that don't follow me...anything over 100 is pretty darn good.

Dossage is another term that, if you were to toss into your Derby party banter, will earn you massive credibility. Essentially, this formula looks at the horse's breeding to reveal if it can handle the 1 1/4 mile Derby distance. As long as the Dossage falls below 4.00, your horse is good to go; except when a horse like Giacamo wins. In this case, don't use Dossage.

In addition, your sharper horse players also like to consider career earnings, shoe size, class, dating history, post position, gum health, the jockey, sexual preferences, pace, the owner's W-2, track surface preferences, and pedigree. For one to use just these statistics, I respond curtly, "Pshaw! Not enough! I am going with DDA."

I have taken all this Daily Racing Form gobblydegoop, identified seven key indicators, then reformulated these horses combined performances to arrive at a number that will tell me whether this horse belongs or not. I then take this number and translate it into the kind of language that even the greenest of Derby neophytes will understand (heck, even some hilljack from Owensboro will understand it): MAYBE THE FASTEST OF ALL, FASTER THAN MOST, PRETTY DOGGONE FAST, and NOT SO FAST. This special formula takes all of the above-mentioned variables, and then reformulates it with my seven indicators -- the age of the horse, the weight it will carry, its history at this distance -- and four other similar factors that are much too complex to cover in this rather simplistic, general interest sports blog.

So, here goes...utilizing DDA, I narrowed the field down to the eight contenders below (I eliminated all horses starting from posts 17 & higher, but I cannot reveal how I got down to eight, so don't even bother asking):

PP   Horse                 Commentary & DDA Rating
2  Brilliant Speed* - great name & great closer REALLY FAST
3  Twice The Appeal* - sprinter's breeding but Calvin Borel on him REALLY FAST

6  Comma To The Top* - gutty Santa Anita 2nd MAYBE THE FASTEST OF ALL
8  Dialed In* - one of the favorites FASTER THAN MOST
12  Santiva - bad luck, may want to include in your exotics! PRETTY DOGGONE FAST
14  Shackleford - ran well in Florida Derby, why not!?  NOT SO FAST
15  Midnight Interlude* - has won two in a row; another closer  PRETTY DOGGONE FAST
16  Animal Kingdom - likes the distance; hasn't run much  PRETTY DOGGONE FAST

Those with "*" are my top five out of these; but since I am paid to predict winners here, I'll take a longshot, Comma To The Top to win and I'll throw in an Exacta box of 2-3-6-8

It is going to be a very profitable day, so thank me later.

Draft, Draft Fever

 

Less than 48 hours and counting ...NFL Draft 2011!!!! Can you stand it?


Well I think I can. I have come to the conclusion that there are two types of sports fans in this world...those who get totally stoked (super excited) before, during, and after the NFL draft and those who do not.


I find myself in the latter group. I really don't care who's on the clock, or that Ryan Mallett's stock is falling faster than Kodak's, or that Cam Newton can FINALLY get paid for playing football. 


Honestly, I believe I can wait until Friday to find out who the Bears picked. Am I a bad or inadequate fan? Gosh, I hope not. However, there are quite a few who fall into this special category of fan that I would refer to as "Draft Addicts" or DA's. 


Just listen to local sports radio as the big day approaches and the DA's are out there, "Yeah, hey der Tom, 'dis is Frank from Berwyn, first-time caller here...do you tink we should go after this tight end out of Utah in round tree or dat wide receiver from A&M? Maybe we should trade up this year and go after that offensive lineman from McNeese State. I know what Coach Ditka would do, by da way...I'll hang up and listen to your response in my car. Tanks for taking the call and oh, Go Bayrs." 

Gotta Support Your Team

He'll likely be at a local tavern with beer in hand and Uhrlacher jersey on back. He twitter, text, blog, call, and guess along with the experts...and yes, this occasion may call for face paint.


He's had these D-Days (Draft Days) marked on his calendar...the culmination of yet another research-packed April, "DUDE, are you freakin' kidding me? I'm watching all eight epic hours! I'm calling in sick and going to the draft!" He bought and poured over Mel Kiper's "Draft Guide 2011" ($12.95) and has his own list compiled.

The Book of Mel

And this year, Bud Light plans to reward his hard work and draft intuition. It is offering $10 million for anyone who can predict the first 32 picks in order. (Someone does that, Obama ought to get rid of Biden and appoint this cat as VP...seriously.)


Your regular fan might look at the massive time block set aside for this event and ask, "Why would I watch more than 10 minutes of THAT?"


You have to hand it to the NFL and ESPN; because they have managed to attract more and more folks each year to watch "THAT." They have created a must-see, super-hyped, marketed-out-the-wazoo TV event out of programming that, on the surface, would appear to carry the same level of excitement as watching slovenly guys play cards for three hours plus. Who would watch THAT?  

I Know I Am Right

OK, well, bad example...but, last year, more people watched the NFL draft than watched the two combined NBA games on that same evening. I am not much of an NBA fan, but...wow, hard to believe. 


Certainly, the draft does recognize a culmination of years and years of hard work; truly a pivotal moment for a select group of young men. But the pre- and instant analysis is everywhere, I swear, when I was scanning the cable listings the other night I ran across: "The Next Tom Brady...Who Has the Hair to Cut It?" and "America's Deadliest Punters: Coffin Corner Assassins." Doesn't that seem like overkill to you?


How did all of this happen and why? What is the appeal?


Well, I think that the draft plays on a basic human emotion, that of HOPE. Carolina Panther fans see HOPE in the form of Cam Newton, long-suffering Cleveland Brown fans HOPE that they uncover another Tom Brady with their 199th pick, and Detroit Lions fans HOPE that the ghost of Matt Millen is long gone.


As for the TV guys...the beauty of being a commentator on one of this shows is, NO ONE IS EVER WRONG. I wish someone would come back at these guys four or five years later to provide legitimate analysis of the success/failure of the picks. They grade the teams and talk as if they have some divine way of seeing into the future. 


They don't, but what if there was someone who could? Wouldn't it be great if we could summon Carnac the Magnificent to announce/analyze the picks? Trade him for Mel Kiper and then you got something...

Imagine if Carnac had announced these epic selections...


"The answer is: Keith Richards...Name one guy more juiced than the Packers' first round pick, Tony Mandarich."

"Dr. Strangelove...Who has a wilder arm than Oakland's first overall pick, JaMarcus Russell's? 

"BOOOOO!!!!," explodes a section of Raider fans.

"May your girlfriend win an Al Davis look-a-like contest!"

"Bacardi, 2+2=4, and Ryan Leaf...Name a rum, a sum, and a future bum."

NFL Commissioner, "Carnac I hold in my hand the last envelope!"

"Yeahhh!!," roars the crowd.

"May your daughter get asked to go dutch with Pacman Jones."

"Leaving Las Vegas"...What do the Indianapolis Colts hope Art Schlichter is doing right now? 

...now, I'd watch a few hours of that.

A Modest Proposal for the NCAA - Let's Get a Little "Student" in our Athletes

Big-time college sports, especially basketball, continues to make headlines weeks following UCONN's national championship as recent allegations of alleged point shaving involving San Diego have been reported.

Nice tats

Add this to the accelerated departure of Tennessee coach Bruce Pearl (who lied to NCAA officials about a recruit's visit) with Ohio State's "Toys for Tats" football controversy in which several prominent players traded Buckeye paraphernalia for must-have tattoos...and the integrity of "amateur" college sports takes yet another blow. Head coach Jim Tressel currently finds himself in hot water because he may have also withheld his knowledge of his players' "fund raising" efforts.

In addition, word surfaces that UCONN's Kemba Walker (the MOP in the Final Four) just finished his first book: William C. Rhoden's Forty Million Dollar Slaves: The Rise, Fall, and Redemption of the Black Athlete. Walker told Sports Illustrated, "That's true," he said. "You can write that. It is the first book I've ever read." Kemba is a junior.

Cover-to-cover BABY!

So, congrats to Kemba for clearing that personal hurdle after only three years of higher education and to all the UCONN grads: nice degree you have there.

If the NCAA expects us to take this idea of "student athlete" somewhat seriously, continues to allow the one-and-done player in basketball, and isn't willing to pursue/enforce a minimum requirement of three years of school before opting for the pros (as in college baseball and football), then I suggest it enlist the help of a group that can enforce a consistent minimum level of academic performance. My vote? The "National Organization Legitimizing & Legalizing Educational Degrees for Graduating Exam:" NOLLEDGE.

All players would be expected to pass a standardized NOLLEDGE test in order to earn eligibility for the NCAA tournament. And before John Thompson screams that my standardized test idea is racist and unfair, I suggest that this also be written in a verbiage that speaks to the college basketball player. And no, not some Jim Harrick, Jr. lay-up, Basketball 101 exam (Questions 5: How many halves are in a college basketball game? or Question 18: How many fouls is a player allowed to have in one basketball game before fouling out in that game?); this one would be legit.

Uhh...I was told there would be pictures

How? Here are just of few sample questions...

Finance Section
A FedEx package arrives at your door one afternoon. You suspect it is yet another recruiting letter, but much to your surprise, you open it to find eight $1000 bills, six $100 dollar bills, and twelve $20 bills. You don't know what to do, so you show it to your high school coach. Upon your return, you discover that there is now $8000 in the envelope.

The envelope please...

Quantitative:
*How much was in the envelope when you first opened it?
*Is that the same amount as when you left your high school coach's office?
*If these amounts are different, by how much?
*Is that still enough for you to commit?

Qualitative:
*Who do you suspect to be the scumbag who took your money?
*Do you think it is wrong to accept money from a school that will likely exploit your success and parlay your skills into hundreds of thousands of dollars in profit from ticket sales, licensing, and various basketball-related events?

Math & Ethics Section
You read in the paper that your team, STATE College, is expected to beat your smaller, in-state rival Northwest Tech by 18 points in the game tonight. Prior to the game, you are approached by a well dressed man who offers you $5000 to make sure that your team does not win by more than 18 points.

There are five seconds left in the game and the score is STATE 87 and Tech 70 and you have just been fouled. You are at the line for a one and one. What do you do?

*Try to make both free throws and if you don't, that's OK...you will collect $5k for the honest miss
*Miss the first and collect the $5k that is rightfully yours...hey we won, didn't we?
*Make them both; $5k ain't enough to get my attention
*This is a trick questions. It doesn't matter whether I make them or miss them, we are ahead by 27

Math & Deductive Reasoning Section
Your team just won its Division I regional and is now set to play in the Final Four. Your coach has been to the Final Four on two other occasions, but with two different universities. In both of these prior cases, however, his schools were forced to "vacate" these appearances when it surfaced that certain players accepted cash and/or had someone else take entrance exams in order to qualify for admittance.

*He has been to three Final Fours, end of discussion
*He has taken one "official" team to the Final Four, but these other two should count; they really should
*There is no way that a governing body like the NCAA would let a guy like this continue to coach, he obviously gained success through illegal means. He would be lucky to have a coaching job at Northwest Tech.

Logic & Reasoning Section
Last night, you scored 22 points, grabbed 13 rebounds, dished out 10 assists, and managed to sell all 10 of your tickets for a nice profit.

Quantitative:
Is this considered a triple double or a quadruple double?

Qualitative:
What is a fair markup over face value for a mid-season, weekend game against a top-tier opponent?

Extra Credit: Statistics
Your team made 19 of 55 total shots; hit one 3-pointer, and made 14 of 16 free throws. Your opponent made 12 of 64 shots (no really, they did) and scored a total of 41 points.

*Did either team win?
*What was the final score?
*What was your opponent's shooting percentage? (You may use a calculator) If unclear as to exact shooting percentage, make an educated guess (Hint: it is a pretty low number; additional hint: the percentage is greater than 18% and less than 20%)

Extra Credit: English
*What is the best book you have ever read, listened to, or have had read to you?
*If you cannot recall, what do you think would be the best book you would like to read once you had the time?
*If you still don't know, what is the best movie you have seen that you are pretty sure was based upon a book?

Extra Extra Credit
What is the difference between quantitative and qualitative?

At least it's multiple choice

This test was completed by:


__Me
__My agent
__My tutor
__My lawyer has advised me not to say
__I am not certain who took this test


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NOLLEDGE IS POWER, INC.


C'mon NCAA, police the sports you supposedly oversee with some semblance of consistency. I believe that most fans, athletes, and fellow students carry a deep level of cynicism when it comes to college sports. Why?  A consistent level of hypocrisy.

PUNISH those who break the rules. Coaches who get suspended or cheat to get a recruit or have championships vacated should have additional constraints imposed upon them to continue to recruit and coach. You earned that burden of proof...you cheated, so no, I don't trust you. Universities that knowingly violate the rules should pay fines, lose scholarships, and forfeit TV exposure. And what about the players? They know what they are doing...they need to share the blame as well. They aren't completely innocent.

REWARD those schools, coaches, and players who follow the rules. Impose less constraints and give them more freedom to practice and play. Give them an incentive to excel in the classroom. You are a basketball player with a 3.2 and a flawless attendance record? Hey, practice all you want. Have at it.

DON'T create rules just for the lowest common denominator. BE CONSISTENT and treat violations (and violators) accordingly...no matter how big the school or how storied the program.

That's it for now.

My Spring Baseball Soap Box

Given that organized baseball teams are expected to either turn an enormous profit (NY Yankees), break even (Little League), or pay off ill advised Ponzi-schemed investments (NY Mets), I am baffled by the decisions made from a seemingly intelligent commissioner and his business-minded owners. For example...

Why are any baseball games scheduled in domeless stadiums north of the Mason-Dixon line during the first two weeks of April?

NEWS FLASH: Chicago weather is predominantly cold, frigid, and to use a meteorologist's term, "crappy" throughout most of this month. The rocket scientists with MLB have the Cubs playing 15 home games in April...more than those scheduled for June (11) or July (13)...two of the three months we allow our kids to wander outdoors without a coat, ear muffs, and/or gloves.

Couldn't owners like Mr. Ricketts work out a swap with his Diamondback and Marlin brethren?

"OK fellas, how 'bout we take six of those games you were going to play up here in Siberia when, by the way, I can't get a crowd big enough to collectively drink an entire keg of beer, and stage them in 75 degree, low humidity, sunny weather?"

I know, it makes too much sense. This will mean six less mid-summer dates...when the only dopes in these locales who dare sneak outside are either getting chased by immigration officials or desperate competitors in "The Biggest Loser."

Why is professional baseball attendance down so far this year?

Open note to Mr. Bud Selig,

Let me say first off that I love the game. I really do. There is no better sport on earth to watch when played well. I get the tradition and romance associated with baseball, but some changes are in order to attract a few more fans to the games right now...

#1: The weather is too freakin' cold in many stadiums (addressed above)
#2: The average game takes longer to finish than a tax return

#3: Unless you are a single, dieting, AA member or on an expense account, it costs more to take a family of four to a Major League baseball game than it does to lease a car for a month. Oh and Bud, there is still a recession going on.
#4: The season doesn't finish until Halloween and by that time, point #1 kicks into effect all over again

Solutions...

#1: I addressed this in my first soap box discussion
#2: Umpires should actually enforce the expanded strike zone, put pitchers on the clock between pitches and put teams on the clock between innings. Managers should get one, maybe two, trips to the mound for an entire game. Batters should not be allowed to step out of the box more than once an at bat. There, I just saved you about 20 minutes per game.
#3 Owners should create more innovative price plans; maybe even embrace a Priceline-like approach to unload unsold tickets. Finally, owners need to reduce the number of regular season games by at least six. No one will miss 'em. No one.
#4: per #3, start playoffs at least one week earlier

#All of points above: get media professionals like Erin Andrews reporting on the field on a more regular basis (especially in warm weather) to investigate and discuss the strategic nuances of the game. In fact, now that the Jets dumped her, can't we find a place for Jenn Sterger in baseball?

Augusta Dreamin'

Well, that final act of CBS's reality show, "March Madness," concluded with the level of drama and talent on display that I haven't seen since my fellow Buds, all near 50 now, faced off in a four-on-four, shirts-versus-skins, first-team-to-twenty, 90-minute showdown.

As that second half unfolded Monday night, I suspected CBS had slipped in an extended-length Buffalo Wild Wings commercial as an April's Fool joke...

Guys at the bar: "Hey, can't you make this game last forever? I wanna get really hammered and stay here all night!" Bartender pushes a button, underpaid worker at Reliant Field flips a switch, and magically, the rims contract.

Unfortunately, this was no commercial. The clock kept ticking, Butler kept missing and missing and missing, and the futility lasted well past 11pm. A nightmare.

But now, I can now turn my full and undivided attention to A Tradition Unlike Any Other: The Masters. And since I am currently sans employment, I do mean full and undivided.

Ahhh yes, could spring be far behind? Well, sure it may take its time, this is Chicago after all. And as I look out my window, the Midwest dome of rain, fog, and depression has descended upon us yet again.

I vividly recall one dreary Master's Saturday afternoon, shortly after moving to Chicago, when a snow/sleet mix coated my skinny self as I trudged down Clark Street. As I happened past an appliance store with several big (not "flat") screen TVs positioned in the window amidst the toaster ovens, hair dryers, and waffle irons (small wonder these stores dried up), I noticed that the TVs were all tuned to ATUAO.

Like some homeless, hungry Tiny Tim waif staring at the window of a bakery, I stood with teeth chattering, nose running, and eyes squinting to catch a shot of the leaderboard as the ice sliced through my very soul. The camera paused upon a gaggle of sun glassed, sun dressed, and sun tanned southern babes politely laughing at God-knows-what (me?) And then, to my horror, I caught my pitiful mug reflected in the $19.99 lighted circular magnifying makeup mirror.

In the words of Verne Lundquist, "Oh my." (He was not using his complimentary tone.)

"What the F was I doing here?" I thought to myself. "This is America, by God. I could live anywhere and I chose Chicago?

Clark and Fullerton. Early April. I was wearing two layers of flannel when I could (and should) be in Augusta, Georgia...assuming I had the money, vacation time, and passes...scarfing down pimiento cheese sandwiches and sucking down cold Budweiser after cold Budweiser charming these Belles with my disarming wit and vast knowledge of all things golf: "You know ladies, if he wins this weekend, he gets a green jacket; but he has to leave it here. Hey darlin', pass me a hush puppy."

I comforted myself knowing that my Chicago commitment would launch a very soon-to-be-successful advertising career. I'd rise the corporate ladder faster than Darren Stevens and ultimately get my very own invitation to join Augusta National. Hell, I'd look back on this moment with a chuckle and a sigh as I would personally witness ATUAO in my very own 42L Masters Green blazer that I had to leave behind.

That invite has yet to arrive, but, I digress...

Even if it is a torturous watch for us Midwesterners, The Masters is a sporting/TV event that appeals to those who have never even concerned themselves with shaft stiffness, rate of ball spin, or square grooves.

Golfers tune in annually to revisit memorized holes so that they can witness normally hardened robotic professionals three-jack and yip four footers. Sports fans watch the inevitable competitive drama unfold Sunday around 4pm as amateurs, superstars, and once was's vie for eagles and a piece of history. And to women, it's a four-hour HGTV landscaping and garden special as the occasional oddly dressed good looking man tours the grounds with his specialized tools to take random chunks from the manicured greenness.

I have no doubt that this year's Master's will again hold me rapt.

Can Lefty fight off creeping arthritis, hold hair intact, and keep his manssiere secure enough to grab a fourth green jacket? Can Eldrick manage his personal demons, find a swing, and lay off the chicks to get back to being Tiger again? Did Dustin Johnson learn enough at the PGA to avoid another DQ? ("Excuse me, Mr. Johnson, word has it that you addressed a patron as a "fan;" please step this way and bring your clubs.") Can John Daly navigate his Hootersmobile past security and squeeze down Magnolia Lane and still make a 7:54 am tee time? (What's that? He's not in the field? Did they not know where to mail his invite?)

If there were some way for Buffalo Wild Wings to infiltrate those hallowed grounds and pay off some disgruntled grounds-keeper to cause a six-way tie around 6pm Sunday, I'm all in. They say it will hit 80 this weekend, but this is Chicago and that kind of warm April weather comes with an asterisk: *expect 65-mile-an-hour winds, Armageddon-like rain and hail, and inevitable flooding in and around all golf courses.

I think I will stick near my TV.