Jack City

Blog Officially Moved (For Now)

2007-12-27T16:55:00.000-05:00

Well, if you couldn't tell, this thing hasn't been active for awhile. It doesn't mean I've stopped writing - quite the contrary, I've been posting blogs more frequently than before. However, because I already post to Facebook and the Capital University student paper's site, www.capitalchimes.com, I thought it was just too redundant to post them to a third site as well, especially since entirely my entire readership looks at those places first and here second. So if you want to keep reading Jack City - and trust me, you'll want to - go to those sites first and foremost (add me as a friend on Facebook and go to the 'Notes' section.) If you're not on Facebook, well, like I said, you can read 'em online at www.capitalchimes.com. If, for whatever reason, that's not enough for you, send me an e-mail and we can work something else out.

Adios, amigos.

Weekend Recap

2007-08-13T00:33:00.000-04:00

Currently, there are two big questions in the Cleveland sports scene: Who the heck is going to play quarterback for the Browns, and what the heck happened to the once-potent Indians offense?

In my last column, I briefly addressed the first situation. Basically, you can win games with any old bum under center who has a pulse and can tell the difference between a Cover Two and a man-to-man defense. You don’t have to put up gaudy numbers to get to and win the Super Bowl – ask Dan Marino about that. You have to run the ball, don’t make turnovers, and play solid defense.

Now, I hate to pass judgment after one meaningless preseason game…but dear God, did Derek Anderson and Charlie Frye look awful Saturday night. Absolutely awful. Frye’s numbers looked good at the end of the night, but he made three dumb plays: his first pass of the night should have been picked off; that backwards pass/lateral to Jerome Harrison (whom I don’t think would have gotten to the ball even if he tried); and his gallop to the end zone before halftime with no timeouts left.

In the NFL, you can probably get away with one dumb play per game – look at Brett Favre’s career. But Frye is nowhere near the caliber of quarterback as Favre, and he stunk Saturday. And Anderson was just as bad, completing a low percentage of passes and throwing a few balls that should have been picked. Ken Dorsey – Ken Freaking Dorsey – was the bright spot at QB, albeit against the Chiefs freshman squad at the end of the game.

(I wonder what Brady Quinn was thinking on the sidelines during the game. Probably one of two things: “Gosh, if only I’d signed earlier, I’d be starting over these idiots by now.” Or, “I should have held out until after this game…Phil Savage would have given me $50 million to come in.” I also think it would have been hilarious, and an absolute slap to Quinn’s face, if Romeo Crennel put him in the game to take a knee at the end.)

Again, I think stats put up in preseason and exhibition games, regardless of the sport, are worthless. The games bear little semblance to the real action. But you still want your guys to play well and show some glimpses of what they can do in the regular season. Saturday night, we saw no real glimpses of positive play from the quarterbacks, and that could mean (another) long season for Browns fans.

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Sportswriters and broadcasters across the North Shore have worn out their thesauruses trying to describe how poorly the Tribe’s offense has performed the past few weeks. I am particular to “anemic”, though “putrid” and “insipid” are also strong candidates.

Or as my dad, who has been an Indians fan since the womb, put it: “I haven’t seen the team hit this bad, for this long, in a long, long time.”

Basically, if you haven’t been paying attention, we stink right now.

I was trying to think of a way to approach this topic in a different manner than what everyone sees in the local papers and hears on the local sports talk shows. Of course, here at Jack City, we pride ourselves on giving you the reader a totally different perspective, so you know what that means – it’s poetry time!

(And ignore the fact that the last time we presented this perspective, Ohio State got spanked by Florida in the BCS championship game. Thanks.)

Anyway, enjoy:

Can't Buy A Hit

We’re in the dog days of August
And our bats are showing signs of rust.
No one knows when our lumber
Will break out of this month-long slumber.

Not much contact, not much power
The pennant race has turned quite sour.
Can the offense, mired in such a terrible state,
Turn it around before it’s too late?

Everyone’s stuck in a long and nasty slump
We’re playing like some Little League chump.
Who’ll give the stern kick in the rump
To get us out of this offensive dump?

Grady Sizemore really whiffs a lot
Hafner’s been tied up in a knot.
Victor’s struggled, but overall he’s great
Trot Nixon can barely hit his weight.

Peralta still can’t hit the curve
Heaven forbid they throw him the slurve.
All year, Blake’s been up and down,
At least we’re done with that Rouse clown.

Michaels already reached his peak.
Barfield’s starting to really reek.
Can’t believe we’ve gotten this meek
Batting average dropping as we speak.

Still unsure on Kenny Lofton,
Forty years old, but he can still run.
Kelly Shoppach’s returned to Earth
Ryan Garko’s still proving his worth.

Wedge insists that nothing’s wrong -
Wonder who’s passing him the bong?
According to him, our hitting is strong.
But we haven’t scored any runs in oh-so-long.

If anyone out there can hit the ball
Please give Mark Shapiro a call.
I’d hate to waste another chance
To reach the October Baseball Dance.

All Hail the Mighty Quinn

2007-08-08T23:00:00.000-04:00

Amid much hoopla and fanfare, Brady Quinn is officially a Cleveland Brown now.

(Silence.)

(Crickets chirping.)

Oh, that’s right – I, along with the rest of the city and Browns Backers nationwide, are supposed to hail Mr. Quinn as the next coming of, well, Touchdown Jesus himself.

Excuse me for my indifference. It’s just that we’ve heard this same old song and dance with the Browns and their quarterbacks since the Bernie Kosar era. And how many of those quarterbacks have panned out or played anywhere close to expectations?

(Go ahead and check. I’ll wait. I’ve got nothing but time.)

Did you find any? Tim Couch or Kelly Holcomb? Trent Dilfer or Jeff Garcia? Charlie Frye?
All of those quarterbacks were supposed to be the cornerstone of the franchise (Couch), or the emerging NFL-ready starter (Holcomb), the cagey veteran to put us over the top (Dilfer/Garcia), or the gritty hometown hero come to turn around the organization’s fortunes (you get the point).

Now we’ve got Quinn, who only cost us a first-round pick next year and over $20 million (at least) in guaranteed money. Don’t get me wrong – I mean, I want the guy to be a Hall of Fame quarterback and lead us to like nine championships.

But he hasn’t even taken one pre-season snap yet!!!

Remember, this is the same guy who was blasted constantly in college for never being able to win, or generally perform well, in the big game. Ohio State overmatched him in the Fiesta Bowl. This past season, Michigan knocked him silly. He did put up great numbers against the service academies and a bad Michigan State team, though.

Conveniently, many of the same people who held that over his head now believe he’s the savior. I will reserve judgment for when I see him in pads in the regular season.

Can Quinn turn out to be a great quarterback? Of course. There’s no question about his skills. And neither Frye nor Derek Anderson have really distinguished themselves yet, according to everything out of Berea.

But honestly, it doesn’t even take a great quarterback to win games (see: Grossman, Rex.) It takes a great team. That’s the problem the Browns need to solve, not the contract escalators and bonuses for a rookie quarterback.

Offseason No Time For Rest For Cavs

2007-06-28T16:50:00.000-04:00

In my 20 years on Earth, I can’t recall a time when there has been so much buzz surrounding an NBA offseason and the draft as there has been in the past few weeks. Trade rumors are everywhere – it seems like Kobe and KG have been linked to every team in the country except for the Columbus Blue Jackets. And obviously there’s the whole Durant-Oden question at the top of the draft.

The biggest question, though, for us Cavs fans is: how the heck can we improve this team? For a team that won 50 games and advanced to the NBA Finals, there are bright, glaring weaknesses, such as:

1. No one can run an offense effectively
2. No one can consistently hit a jump shot
3. No one can block shots

Well, those should be easy enough to fix, right? We’ll just use our first-round draft pick on…

(Oh, right, we traded that for the incomparable Jiri Welsch two seasons ago. He played – oh, you’ll love this – 192 minutes in a Cavs uniform, which was about as long and dreadful as Pirates of the Caribbean 3).

OK, so without a first-rounder, we’ll just get a second-round steal like Boozer or Gibson and…

(That’s gone too? Really? The Gooden and Varejao trade? All righty then.)

Thank God we’ve got free agency, then. Lots of cap room and…

(2006-07 NBA Salary Cap: $53.135 million. 2006-07 Cavs Payroll: $62,992,728, according to espn.com. I’m not a math major, but those numbers don’t add up so well.)

So it looks like Danny Ferry will have to get creative, a thought that makes me shudder. After all, this is the man who gave Donyell Marshall $5.6 million per year, Damon Jones $3.8 million…well, just look at this roster and salary numbers yourself and let me know what you think:

Thankfully, Brian Windhorst, arguably one of the best beat writers in the country, reported earlier that Ferry has Dan Gilbert’s approval to spend into the luxury tax. So that does give the Cavs some options. Since I’m not an “NBA Insider” and privy to all those swirling draft and trade rumors, here’s how I think the Cavs should address their needs through free agency and other offseason improvements.

Let’s Get To The Point

I liked Windhorst’s suggestion that we go after a point guard like Steve Blake – his production stepped up after being traded to the Nuggets and playing with Carmelo Anthony and Allen Iverson. He can run an offense (6.6 assists per game), shoot the three decently enough (34 percent), plus he’s a scrappy kind of player and still young enough (27) that I wouldn’t mind giving him a three or four year deal. Steve, I hated you at Maryland, but I’d be willing to let bygones be bygones if you become a Cavalier.

I know a lot has been made about Earl Boykins, a Cleveland native who is an intriguing prospect to fill the point guard role. He’s a good outside shooter (39 percent from downtown) and scorer (over 14 points per game last year). But he’s already 31 years old, has only started 33 games in his career, and has never averaged more than 4.5 assists per game.

And let’s not get started with Chauncey Billups. He’s 30 years old and will want more than the $6.5 million he got from Detroit last year. He’s a marginally better shooter than Larry Hughes. (The stats don’t lie: go to ‘Compare Players’ and select Chauncey Billups). Between him, LeBron, Hughes, Gooden, Z and Pavlovic/Gibson, there’s just not enough shots to go around.

I don’t think Daniel Gibson functions well as a true point guard. Hughes, remember, played great at the position when he first started there this season, then went back to his regular Larry Hughes form.

‘The Shooter’, Not Starring Mark Wahlberg

Problem number two, I believe, can be addressed internally, and it starts with Number 23. LeBron’s offensive game still needs a lot of work. If he can find some kind of rhythm from 15-18 feet out and also learn how to be an effective post player – I mean, watch out. He could average 35 or 40 a night, easily. He made his biggest improvement as a player between his second and third years, when he learned how to hit a few jumpers and threes, and now needs to make a similar leap between years four and five to take his game to new heights.

Granted, that’s all easier said than done – after all, LeBron is only 22. But I think he’s smart enough to know that he has room for improvement, and as he displayed in Game 5 against Detroit, he has the ability to do that every night. He averages 27 a night on mostly driving to the hole and getting to the free throw line. We don’t even know what he’s capable of down the road.

Then you also have to look at guys like Sasha Pavlovic, who is a restricted free agent but will likely remain with the Cavs, and Daniel Gibson. They both emerged as solid offensive players this year. And how about Shannon Brown? Sure, he didn’t exactly light the world on fire, but didn’t play poorly either. (The treatment of Shannon Brown this year deserves its own column. Just check out his game log, and you’ll see. He basically played in about 7 or 8 games, wouldn’t play for 10 or 15, then get in another 7 or 8. That bizarre rotation courtesy of Mike Brown.)

Finally, should the Cavs sign a real point guard and move Hughes back to the two, let’s see if he can put the “shooting” back in “shooting guard”. For over $13 million a year, hopefully he can figure that out.

Center of Attention

Now, to solve our depth along the frontline and add someone who can swat some shots. Z, Gooden, and restricted free agent Anderson Varejao are quality players, but they’re not intimidating defensive players by any means. And don’t get me started on Donyell Marshall. Scot Pollard is also a free agent, and I never understood why he never got a chance in the rotation.

I was looking at the list of free agents and some of the centers I see include Michael Olowokandi, Dikembe Mutombo (an interesting prospect, but he’s all but assured to stay with Houston), Dale Davis, Chris Webber, Jake Tsakalidis, Chris Mihm, Kelvin Cato and Jamaal Magloire. Not exactly an awe-inspiring collection of big men. Webber’s clearly the best player out of that group, but he got real old, real fast, last season. And I couldn’t find anything online about what his intentions are for this offseason, but I would have to figure he wants a lot of money and to start, and I don’t think he’s better than Gooden or Z right now.

Windhorst said that he thinks the Cavs would let Andy walk if another team offers him a big contract (he’s a restricted free agent, which means the Cavs have the right to match any offer), and I tend to agree. He’s been a valuable contributor, but he is by no means a starter, and you can’t pay him that kind of money to play 20-25 minutes per game off the bench and not score.

That being said, though, the Cavs will have some problems if Andy doesn’t come back. Then the only centers and power forwards we would have under contract next season would be Z, Gooden and Marshall. Even Dwayne Jones (the big guy in the suit at the end of the bench, in case you didn’t know) is a restricted free agent.

So I don’t see how we can add a shotblocker when we would just be struggling to get enough bigs out on the court. Defensively, we played great without having to block shots, but as we saw early in the Detroit series and against San Antonio how valuable interior defenders can be when they protect the rim.

Can We Put It Together?

This will be a critical few weeks for the future of the Cavs. I don’t know if a league runner-up has ever had so many question marks heading into the next season, but the Cavs certainly do. Some things are pretty clear right now: LeBron is a darned good player. Larry Hughes is no Scottie Pippen (he’s barely even Pippi Longstocking). And the roster, which was left largely intact last year, needs improvement.

It’s the offseason and Danny Ferry, you’re on the clock.

Update Update

2007-06-28T16:48:00.000-04:00

All right well it's been a long time since I've updated this thing, mostly because the website changed its login and I couldn't get in for awhile. Then, since all of you guys mostly read on Facebook, I was just posting it straight to there.

From now on, I'll try to keep posting to both, starting with my breakdown of the Cavs offseason needs.

Gross Play from Grossman

2007-02-05T18:05:00.000-05:00

If I were Rex Grossman, I'd be staying away from Chicago city limits for a few weeks. Probably a few months, actually.

The much-maligned Bears quarterback was at it again last night, and he did it on the biggest stage in professional sports. If, for some reason, you didn't have the Super Bowl on, you missed a dominating performance by Peyton Manning (often maligned himself) and the Colts, while Grossman and the Bears lacked the swagger that many had thought would carry them to the championships.

In many football games, you can look at the quarterbacks' numbers and tell who won the game. Though Grossman completed 20-of-28 passes (71.3 percent), he threw for only 165 yards - about 40 on the final drive when the game was all but over - to go along with one touchdown and two picks, both of which came at critical junctures in the game. He also lost a pair of fumbled snaps and slipped dropping back on a pass, costing the team crucial yards and field position.

While Manning was far from his spectacular self - 247 yards, one touchdown, one pick - he also completed a high percentage of his passes, completing the throws that the Bears left open and did a great job managing the game. Chicago often dropped both of its safeties 18-20 yards back, allowing Manning to complete as many short and medium routes as he wanted. Conversely, the Colts packed the line of scrimmage on defense, daring Grossman to beat them deep. As far as I can remember, Grossman only threw one deep ball, to Bernard Berrian that Bob Sanders picked off in the fourth quarter, and the throw was so poor, you would have thought it was receiving welfare checks every month.

The Colts slowly, methodically, wore down the vaunted Bears defense, converting eight of 18 third downs, rushing for 191 yards and holding onto the ball for 38 minutes. The Bears offense, so one-dimensional the entire season, managed just one big play - a 52 yard run by Thomas Jones in the first quarter - as Tony Dungy proved that Indy's defensive flaws earlier in the season could be corrected. Grossman made only a couple of good throws, including his touchdown pass, but didn't make nearly enough plays to make the Colts respect his ability to throw the ball.

I predicted Thursday during our radio show that the Colts would exploit Grossman's weaknesses, and that the Bears would need their defense or special teams to carry them. Well, Devin Hester returned a kickoff for a touchdown, the Colts turned the ball over three times...and it still wasn't enough.

If I were a Chicago Bears fan, I'd have homicidal feelings towards Grossman. Watching the game last night, my friends and I were joking about which of Tank Johnson's guns he was going to use to shoot Grossman. And what about Lovie Smith? He's had Brian Griese sitting on the bench all season, almost like that old convertible that you store away in the winter months to keep it clean, keep the mileage down, save it from more wear and tear. But Lovie, in his shining moment, the first day of spring, the first sunny day, the Super freaking Bowl, stuck with his Pinto. And his Pinto broke down on the side of road.

And I think that Pinto is going to be sitting on the side of the road for a long, long time.

The Legend of the Alaskan Assassin

2007-01-26T17:37:00.000-05:00

In the summer of 1998, my friend Steve Valentino and I attended a basketball camp at Duke University. This was back in the "hey-day" of my athletic career, when I was bigger and stronger than most kids my age. I was 11 years old.

It was a phenomenal experience, and though some memories have grown hazy over the years, the week at Duke played a major impact in the course of my life.

I remember Steve's mom driving us down the day before camp started, because Steve's grandparents lived in North Carolina - we would just spend the night there to shorten the drive. We stopped and ate at a Ponderosa on the way down. Once in North Carolina, Steve's grandparents took us on a brief visit to the campus of Wake Forest University. That night, we had watched an NBA playoff game with Tim Duncan and the Spurs, (I can't recall if they were playing Phoenix or Utah), and slept in their living room.

The next day, we drove out to Durham. That's where the legend begins...

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Steve and I had gone to plenty of basketball camps together in those days, through the Shooting Stars basketball program. Of course, those overnight, weekly camps were held at places like Oberlin College and Hiram College - not Duke University.

I had never had any particular feelings towards Duke's men's basketball team beforehand. Didn't like 'em, didn't dislike 'em. A lot of sports fans around the country dislike Duke because the basketball team is always, well, really good. Steve had always been a big fan - before our YMCA or travel games, he'd always be checking the score to their games. That's why we ventured out of Ohio's borders and went to the camp down there.

As soon as we walked onto campus, I became hooked. It felt like the biggest place in the world, much larger than Oberlin or Hiram, larger than the two together, it seemed to my young eyes. The buildings were beautiful, historic. The weather was perfect. I was in love - and we hadn't even seen the Holy Grail of our trip.

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Duke Indoor Stadium opened in 1940. It cost roughly $400,000 to build and at the time was the second-largest gymnasium in the country, with 8,000 seats and standing room capability to hold 12,000 fans. In 1972, the building was renamed Cameron Indoor Stadium after legendary coach and athletic director Eddie Cameron. Throughout the years, the men's basketball program, Cameron Indoor Stadium and a rabid student fan base known as the "Cameron Crazies" have become synonymous with the name Duke University.

The building reminded me of a cathedral, an interesting comparison, I thought, for an 11-year old who had never really gone to church all that much. The exterior, comprised of beautiful stone, was stunning. Stepping inside, the halls contained memorabilia and memories from over 60 years of basketball tradition - you could feel the history and tradition wash over you. The gym itself was tiny compared to many of the new structures around the nation, but it felt like just the right size to me, being there and imagining playing a game on that court in front of thousands of fans.

If you couldn't tell the age of the building from looking at it from outside, or from the years of wear and tear at places on the inside, you could certainly tell from stepping into the men's bathrooms. They didn't have individual urinals, just a giant trough to relieve yourself. I haven't been back since, so I don't know what the current bathrooms look like, if they've changed. What I do know is that I'd never peed in a trough until then, and to my recollection have never peed in one since.

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After we got ourselves checked in, registered, moved into our dorm room for the week and all that good stuff, Steve and I headed back to the gym. With all the campers sitting on the hallowed court, Mike Kryszewski ("Coach K") gave his opening speech. I don't remember what he said, but I remember feeling the goosebumps run through my body as I soaked in the atmosphere and thinking about how awesome it would be to receive instruction from the legendary coach. Alas, the only other time we saw Coach K that week was during the closing ceremonies of the camp, but that didn't really diminish much from the entire experience.

Like I said before, I can only recall a few specific memories from the rest of that week. Steve and I had messed around with the air conditioning in our room, and the room was frigid, colder than a January breeze off Lake Erie, the entire week. I was a pretty big kid back then, and was actually about as big as any of the kids in our age group, which surprised me. I also remember coming away from the camp not overly impressed with any of the other big guys, though some of the guards were pretty quick and could shoot.

(Of course, I ended up getting cut from the seventh and eighth grade school teams, stopped growing, and never really played competitive basketball after that point. I'm sure a lot of those kids at that camp had much more illustrious basketball careers than me, and some are likely still playing in college somewhere. I did end up second in scoring in our intramural basketball league senior year of high school, though, one of the finer achievements of my athletic career. For his part, Steve ran the point guard on the most successful boy's basketball teams in Solon High School history and now plays football at the University of Dayton.)

One memory, though, remains sharper than a steak knife in my mind, a memory that has helped define my life and who I am today. That, my friends, is the arrival of the Alaskan Assassin: Trajan Langdon.

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A famous sports quote says that while amateurs practice until they get it right, professionals practice until they can't get it wrong. While some certainly can get by and achieve greatness purely through superior skill or athletic ability, the factor that sets most professional athletes from the rest of the pack is their willingness to spend extra hours in the gym, the weight room, the batting cages, honing their craft, improving their strength, milking everything they can from their bodies to become the best.

One night during our week at Duke, the daily session was running a little long, games were going late - pretty typical for a camp. My team - we were "Iowa", I don't know why, nor was I very happy about being on a Big 10 team that wasn't Ohio State - had already finished our games for the day, so I was just sitting around, watching some of the action on the court, and waiting for us to be dismissed for the evening.

As things were wrapping up, whispers began circulating throughout the assembled campers. "Trajan's here", "He's in the hallway", "They're kicking us out so he can play".

Trajan Langdon had arrived. Nicknamed the "Alaskan Assassin" because he went to high school in Anchorage and had a reputation as a deadly shooter, Trajan was one of the biggest names in college basketball at the time.

Streams of kids exited the court into the main lobby outside the gym. Never the quickest nor the slightest of foot, I was caught near the back of the crowd, but still managed to reach the hallway.

He was out there, all right, smiling and shaking hands. Some of the instructors tried to ebb the flow of kids swarming him, but he didn't mind. It was late at night, probably 10 or 10:30, and he had come to work out after we finished. At the time, I was shocked that someone would be so willing to sacrifice his time, to come to practice so late, and to be so generous as to spend some time with us - it amazed me. Never before in my life had I been so close to an athlete of his stature. Flush in my newfound Duke glory and desperate to meet my new hero, I struggled to make my way up to him.

But it was too late. Our instructors had essentially formed a wall around him, and he made his way into the gymnasium, likely one of his countless summer workouts, preparing for his senior season. Discouraged but not disappointed, I resolved to be the most faithful follower of Duke basketball and of the team's star player, Trajan Langdon.

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The rest of camp passed rather uneventfully. As part of our package, we each received a Duke Basketball T-Shirt and a hardbound yearbook for the upcoming season, with Trajan gracing the cover. I hoped, prayed, he would make another appearance before the end of the week, but those hopes and prayers went unfulfilled.

I watched as many Duke games as I could that season (and have continued to do so now). Trajan ended the season as the team's second-leading scorer, and the Blue Devils advanced to the NCAA championship, losing 77-74 to the University of Connecticut. With just a few seconds left, Duke had to go the length of the court to attempt a shot to tie the game, and Trajan was called for traveling near halfcourt. My heart went out for him, and I felt like crying.

Now, here's the part of the story that would be remiss without me telling it. As I'm sure most of you know, I'm a diehard Cleveland sports fan. The mid-to-late 90's was an interesting period in Cleveland sporting history, just as I came into my own, if you will, as a person who lived and died with the successes and failures of his sports teams.

The Cleveland Indians, longtime doormats of Major League Baseball, had suddenly emerged as perennial contenders, playing in two World Series in three years (1995, 1997 - should have won it in 1997, but that's for another time). Art Modell ripped the heart out of the entire city, the entire Cleveland Browns fanbase, moving the team to Baltimore after the 1995 season. And the Cleveland Cavaliers were on the tail-end of some great teams from the late 80's and early 90's, trying to regain that identity as the NBA struggled with labor issues and the re-retirement of Michael Jordan.

The 1999 NBA Draft approached, and the Cavs held two first-round selections, the number eight and number 11 picks. I didn't think there was anyway that the Cavs would take Trajan with one of those picks, because everyone was talking about his limitations on defense, and how his only offensive threat was the three-point shot (17.3 ppg, 44.1 percent three-point shooter as a senior). Everyone figured he'd get taken in the late first round, maybe second round.

With the first pick, the Chicago Bulls took Duke forward Elton Brand, who left school early as a sophomore. Before the Cavs' eighth pick, other notable players to go included Steve Francis (Maryland - Vancouver), Baron Davis (UCLA - Charlotte), Lamar Odom (Rhode Island - LA Clippers), Wally Szczerbiak (Miami, OH - Minnesota), Richard Hamilton (UConn - Washington).

With the eighth pick, the Cavs took Utah point guard Andre Miller. Watching the draft, I was happy because we really needed a point guard. But who would we take next?

Two more very good players, Shawn Marion (UNLV - Phoenix) and Jason Terry (Arizona - Atlanta) went ninth and tenth, respectively (Man, what a draft class!) This put the Cavs on the clock with the eleventh pick.

They took Trajan Langdon.

Now, there were plenty of good "Dukies" available in that draft - in fact, a total of four (Brand, Langdon, Corey Maggette, William Avery) would be selected in the first 14 picks. What were the odds, I mused then, that the Cavs would not only take a player from my favorite college basketball team, but my favorite player of all-time? It was a fairy-tale moment for an adolescent - the only bittersweet moment came when I realized that Derek Anderson, who played the same position as Trajan on the Cavs and was my favorite player on the team, would be traded. But I figured that Trajan would easily fill his shoes. I mean, it was a lock, right? Right?

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In his rookie season, 1999-2000, Trajan played in 10 games off the bench, averaging 4.9 points per game in less than 15 minutes per ballgame and shooting 42.1 percent from beyond the arc. An injury ended his season, though, and the Cavs, coached by Randy Wittman and led by an out-of-shape Shawn Kemp, finished with an inglorious 32-50 record.

His second season, though, seemed poised for a breakout. Despite his continued limited minutes, Trajan played in 65 games, with five starts, and bumped his scoring average up to six points per game and shot 41.1 percent from three-point range. I clearly remember his best game of the season, a 31-point outburst against the Pistons, because I was sick that day. So sick, in fact, that I went to bed early and didn't watch any of the game. How did I remember the game, then? Well, I stayed home from school the next day so I could watch the replay of the game on Fox Sports that afternoon.

But the Cavs once again finished with a 30-52 record, and there were grumblings not only about the coaching staff, but also about the lack of production out of the organization's eleventh pick from the 1999 draft. How could that be, I wondered, that everyone complains about him when he doesn't even get a chance to play? How can you just carelessly discard a deadly outside shooter? Didn't they watch him at the All-Star game, playing in the "2-Ball" competition with Eva Nemcova of the WNBA's Cleveland Rockers, where they finished in second place?

During the course of the 2001-2002 season, it became evident that Trajan's days as a Cavalier were numbered. John Lucas took over the team, which managed to finish even worse than it had in the past few years, with a 29-53 mark. Trajan played in just 44 games, averaging fewer minutes than he did during his rookie and second-seasons, and his numbers dropped slightly. I remember Lucas being quoted in the Plain Dealer, saying that Trajan was the best "Monday-Wednesday-Friday" player on the team - NBA teams usually have those days off, meaning that Trajan excelled in practice but not in the game. But coach, you only played him 10 minutes a night, giving backcourt minutes to guys like Bryant Stith, Jeff Trepagnier, and the immortal Bimbo Coles? Was I the only one to see this, to realize this?

My friend Stu and his dad had season tickets, around halfcourt, maybe eight rows up on the same side as the team benches. Now, in those days of Cavs basketball, you had maybe 9,000 fans showing up to games. Maybe. You could hear the players and coaches talking, swearing at the refs, laughing...it was pretty cool, and back then at Gund Arena, they didn't overwhelm you with artificial sound and noise like they do now at "The Q".

Anyway, Stu and his dad took me to a game at the end of the season, when not only was the writing all over the wall for the end of Trajan's career in a Cavs uniform, you might as well have been staring at a graffiti-covered building in the Bronx. I decided to make a sign, the first sign I'd ever made for a sporting event, to bring to the game in homage of Trajan's career. My sister helped me with the lettering, which read "SAVE TRAJAN LANGDON", colored in the blue and orange that the Cavs wore on their jersey' at the time. In addition, I printed out some pictures I could find of Trajan from the internet and glued them on, and brought my Duke yearbook with me from camp, the one with Trajan on the cover, in hopes that he would sign it.

Fans at the game loved my sign. Rest assured, they'd never seen anything like it, nor will they likely ever see anything like it again. I waved my sign at every opportunity I could (during timeouts and such, so as not to disrupt anyone's view - I was very conscience of that) towards the Cavs bench, towards my hero. It went unnoticed, and as the game clock wound down into the fourth quarter, I doubted that anything would come of my efforts.

A timeout was called sometime in the fourth qaurter. The Cavs, who were probably getting killed at that point, huddled around Lucas as he went over some strategy that hadn't worked before nor would work again for the rest of his tenure as Cavs coach. I stood up, as always, and pointed my sign directly at the bench.

Cavs guard Wesley Person, paying no mind to Lucas' clipboard, was gazing into the audience and saw me. He smiled and laughed. He tapped Trajan, who was also somewhat outside the interior of the huddled players, on the shoulder and pointed directly at me.

I almost fainted.

I locked eyes with my hero. He smiled and laughed, too. Oh my God, I thought. He's looking right at me. Me!

The huddle broke up and the game resumed. I sat down, unsure of what to say or think. Stu and his dad were laughing, I think a bit shocked at what had just happened, drawing the attention of two NBA players into the stands, looking at us.

The huddle broke up and the game resumed. But I had stopped paying attention to the game and just focused on the end of the Cavs bench where Trajan sat. I caught him peeking at me and I waved. He peeked again, later, and I held up the Duke yearbook.

He laughed yet again. I felt like crying.

The game finally, mercifully, drew to a close, and I hustled to the Cavs bench, trying desperately to get Trajan to sign my yearbook. But I was too late - the players had already entered the locker room. I pleaded my case to a security guard who was standing nearby, and he just stared blankly right back at me. We waited around for a few minutes, hoping he would reappear, finally giving up and heading back home.

As expected, the Cavs did not re-sign Trajan after the season. The dream was over.

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I don't know when exactly, but it was some time long after the season had ended and Trajan had left that my dad and I went to Champs Sports in Solon, the one by where Tops used to be, when it was having its big closing sale. They were basically giving stuff away, and the inside of the store was a mess. We were just looking around when my eyes caught a glimpse of a rack full of "21" Cleveland Cavaliers jerseys. It couldn't be, I thought. No way.

Yup. They were Trajan Langdon jerseys, dozens of them, on sale for like $5 or $10, I can't remember exactly how much. My dad asked me how many I wanted to buy, three or four. To this day, I'm not sure if he was joking or not. I bought one.

Around that time, I wrote to "Glad You Asked", a part of the Plain Dealer's sports section where fans would ask questions about old Cleveland teams, players, trivia, etc. In my Duke yearbook, I had noticed that Trajan was drafted by the San Diego Padres out of high school and played minor league baseball for a few seasons, and I wanted to know what his stats were.

The writer misinterpreted my request, thinking that I had said "minor league BASKET-ball", not "baseball". He printed it anyway, making a crack about me calling college basketball a minor league sport, and reproduced Trajan's collegiate stats.

A bit miffed, I wrote back, explaining the true intentions of my request. This, too, was also published, with a very brief retraction and Trajan's minor league baseball stats. I was a minor hero in the eyes of some of my family and friends for having my name in the Plain Dealer not just once, but twice.

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It was at that point that I decided to write Trajan a fan letter. It had been many years since I'd sent one to an athlete (I think Grant Hill, in his Pistons days, was the last one I had sent prior to Trajan - as it would turn out, I wouldn't send out another until a few weeks back, to Browns receiver Joe Jurevicius). I explained how much I thought of him as a player, my near-encounter with him at Duke, and disclosed that I was the fan at the Cavs game with the sign and yearbook. I thanked him for his time in Cleveland and wished him the best of luck down the road. To top it off, I enclosed a picture that my sister took of me at home, posing with my yearbook and sign.

I sent it care of the Cleveland Cavaliers, not really sure how or if it would even get to him. A few months later, I received a letter back, addressed to me in a plain white envelope, with a return address from Alexandria, Virginia. Inside, there was no note, no letter, nothing - except for a handful of Trajan Langdon rookie cards.

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In my sophomore year of high school, my friends and I started an intramural basketball team. There were only a few team names that we were allowed to choose from, and we ended up being the "Hawaii Rainbows" with green jerseys.

We decided to get our names and numbers put on the backs of our jerseys. One of our friend's mom did the lettering and it only cost a couple of bucks to get it done. I wanted number 17, my baseball number, and the name "Alaskan Assassin" above it on the back.

A few days later, my friend called me. I wasn't allowed to put "Assassin" on the back of the jersey. I think the school felt I was going to go around shooting up the hallways that week or something. I opted to put "AA" on the back instead. Parents watching our games must have thought I was a recovering alcoholic.

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After leaving the Cavs, Trajan spent some time in Italy and Turkey, playing professional ball there. In 2003, the Clippers brought him in during the preseason, but he didn't make the final roster and went back overseas. As the Cavs roster continued to turn over more than an insomniac at night, and as fans cried over the lack of an outside shooting threat, I constantly wondered what if we still had the Alaskan Assassin in a Cavalier uniform. But with LeBron now in town, Trajan slowly slipped from the forefront of my mind.

Last fall, a lot of NBA teams played exhibition games overseas against top European clubs. Gazing through those pre-season boxscores and stories, I laughed when I saw the Clippers got smoked by some team called CSKA Moscow. Then I read the rest of the story to see this...

"Trajan Langdon scored a game-high 17 points..."

I showed that clip to everyone who would look. The list was limited to my dad and my friends Stu and Rosen. I didn't care. He was back. My hero was back.

Poking around today for some more information on him, I saw that he's twenty-fourth in the league in scoring (14.5 ppg), leading CSKA Moscow to a 12-1 record, first place in their group, and a spot in the Euroleague Final Four. Here's an interview with Trajan that I found: http://www.euroleague.net/news/fanmail/i/732/184/fan-mail-trajan-langdon-cska-moscow?smid=223

After reading that, I smiled and laughed a little, fondly thinking back to my exuberance with every shot he hit, cheering louder than a drunk fan in the Dawg Pound.

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We all have our heroes, our role models, the people we look up to the most. Over the years, it's amazing how much grief I've gotten for the fact that Trajan Langdon is not only my favorite basketball player, but probably my favorite athlete of all-time. People also laugh when I suggest that Trajan could still compete in the NBA.

(For the record, Trajan was a career 39.6 percent three-point shooter. As of Jan. 26, Larry Hughes is shooting 40.6 percent from three point-range for the Cavs this season. Damon Jones, the player on the Cavs who most closely resembles Trajan's game in terms of strengths and weaknesses, is shooting 39.6 percent from beyond the arc and is in the middle of a $16.1 million contract. For his career, he's a 38.7 percent three-point shooter, not too mention the fact that his defense is shakier than a dog in a thunderstorm- not picking on Damon, but just proving a point because he is supposedly the team's sharpshooter.)

It's tough hearing your idol get ridiculed constantly, people telling you to get over him, telling you that he was never that good to begin with. That's fine - I've heard it all before and will likely hear it again. It bothers me a little but I'm used to it.

I think back to that quote, that amateurs practice until they get it right, while professionals practice until they can't get it wrong, and think back to Trajan on that summer night in Durham, working tirelessly on his jump shot and trying to improve his game.

That's the kind of player I look up to the most.

Superstitious

2007-01-21T13:08:00.000-05:00

"When you believe in things that you don't understand/Then you suffer/Superstition ain't the way..."
Stevie Wonder - "Superstitious"

While most college-aged students here in central Ohio spent their Saturday night carousing the town, I was lying in bed, surrounded by Kleenex, Halls cough drops, water bottles and Tylenol PM.

I watched the end of Ohio State's demolition of Iowa in men's basketball, then planned on catching some of the Cavs' West Coast road trip finale against Golden State. The game tipped off at 10:30 here in Ohio, and I figured the medication would set in soon enough, putting me in a blissful, LeBron-induced coma.

I had the TV on mute to avoid the ramblings of new Cavs TV announcer Fred McLeod, who's a bigger homer than Bart Simpson's dad, and was listening to music from my iPod speaker. The Warriors went on a 20-4 run right before halftime and led 62-44 going into the break. I considered turning the game off but decided to see if the Cavs could rally early in the second half, even though I was exhausted and my eyelids had grown heavier than Rosie O'Donnell and Oprah Winfrey combined.

(Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night! Although I'm on the lookout for some crazed feminists and Book Club members wanting to throw their purses at me.)

Anyway, halftime finally ended just as "Still Fly" from the Big Tymers came on my iPod. I was lying on my bed with my right ankle crossed over my left, and both hands behind my head. My mouth was slightly open to help my breathe because my nose was so clogged.

The Cavs started the half on a big run, cutting the 18-point deficit to two. I hadn't moved an inch. Everytime "Still Fly" ended, I would use my remote to start it up again.

But the Warriors responded with a run of their own, pushing their lead back up to double digits. Desperate, I switched to the next song, "I Feel Free" by Cream, and kind of rolled over onto my right side, trying to reverse the momentum. The Warriors kept on scoring. I put "Still Fly" back on and held my breath.

Now, if you're any kind of sports fan or took part in competitive athletics before, you have some type of superstitions. That's just how it works. You always hear about athletes eating the same pregame meal and the different rituals that they have to prepare themselves for games. When I played baseball, I would always trim my nails on days I knew I would pitch. Don't ask me why because I don't know. I devoutly followed the old baseball principle to never step on the foul line running on and off the field. After my final warmup pitch before an inning, I would always crouch low in front of the mound while the catcher threw down to second, then circle the mound clockwise - always clockwise - while the infielders tossed the ball "around the horn."

A few years back, in 2001, the Indians played the Seattle Mariners on ESPN's Sunday Night Baseball. Trailing by 12 runs - 12 runs! - the Tribe staged a remarkable rally, winning the ballgame. I watched that game in my bedroom at home, lying flat on my stomach with my legs in the air, leaning against my doorway. Then, too, I dared not move an inch, lest the comeback be halted. When Ohio State beat Michigan this year, I had worn my lucky Ohio State boxers and vowed not to wear them again until the title game. It wasn't until halftime against Florida that I realized I didn't have them on. Racing back to my dorm room, I put them on just as the second half kicked off, but it was too little, too late. Even now, I wonder what if...

Last night, the Cavs trailed by 12 - irony? coincidence? - entering the fourth quarter. I had switched positions once again, rolling over onto my back, but this time with my left ankle crossed over my right, and with just my left hand behind my head.

Firmly entrenched in my belief that my actions 3,000 miles away had everything to do with the Cavs' success or failures in California, I knew I had to stick with "Still Fly" on the iPod. I freaked out everytime I heard the opening chords of "I Feel Free" when I was just a second slow in hitting the repeat button. Near the start of the fourth, I felt my bladder expanding faster than Charles Barkley's waistline after he retired. But I was glued in my position. Schaaf Hall could have been burning down and all of the RA's in the world couldn't have dragged me out of my room.

The Cavs rallied again. My physical condition was deteriorating. I honestly feared wetting myself. My entire left arm was throbbing in pain. My bladder screamed bloody murder at me. My eyes were glazing over, my vision blurred, and I could feel that "sleep" stuff crusting up in the corners of my eyes. For some reason, I really craved buying some "Gator boots with a pimped out Gucci suit."

LeBron hit a three to give Cleveland its first lead of the second half with about four minutes left. I was praying vehemently against overtime. I was exhausted, and my chest was starting to hurt too. With the score tied with 27 seconds left and the Cavs holding the ball, I knew this was it. I had nothing left to give.

Sasha Pavlovic missed a wide-open jumper. David Wesley, who I think was in a suit and tie during pregame warmups, grabbed the offensive rebound. LeBron attempted a jumpshot as the clock expired.

He missed. I bolted out of bed and raced to the bathroom. I got back just as the overtime period started. I had butterflies in my stomach for the first time watching a Cavs game since the Pistons series last year. Diving onto my bed, I hopped under my blanket and simply watched. I had done my part to get the boys into overtime; this was their time to do the rest. But I did keep replaying "Still Fly" - I must have listened to it roughly 20 times.

My friends returned from their night out about midway through overtime. I stared blankly at them as they described their evening, then returned my focus to LeBron and the Big Tymers.

I won't rehash the extra period. You can read the official recap everywhere. But as the Warriors' Stephen Jackson's three-point attempt at the buzzer rimmed out, I simply threw my hands up in the air in triumph...then went to bed.

(JACK CITY READERS: Do you have any crazy superstitions, sports-related or not, that you follow? Post them as comments or e-mail!)

The Joe Jurevicius Blue Collar Award

2007-01-15T23:19:00.000-05:00

Some may call me crazy for sending a professional athlete a $10 check in the mail.

You know what? I'm OK with that. Heck, I'm still chuckling over this, and this idea has been in my head for about six weeks now.

Joe Jurevicius is a wide receiver for the Cleveland Browns. He signed with the team last season, along with fellow northeast Ohioans LeCharles Bentley and Dave Zastudil, in an effort to revitalize the team by pumping in some local talent. All three were Browns fans growing up and expressed great desire in turning the franchise around.

(Intermission: Joe is from Mentor - blahhh, I know - and graduated from Lake Catholic High School, another personal blahhh for me. We always played summer baseball against Lake Catholic, and it was on their field, which is in Mentor, that I suffered my first serious injury. I was playing first base and made what was likely the only "Web Gem" in my less-than-illustrious baseball career, a diving stop to my right. I raced the runner to the bag and beat him, and we collided. A few pitches later, the umpire noticed blood running down my leg - I had ended up getting spiked pretty bad and needed stitches. The doctor was surprised it didn't cut into my bone. I was supposed to sit out two weeks but just said screw it and played two days later. But I still hate Lake Catholic for that scar in my leg. Anyway, back to the column.)

So as you all know, Bentley blows out his knee on the first freakin' day of practice ("The LeCharles Situation", as I called it back then). Zastudil did more than his fair share handling the punting duties, and was arguably the team's most consistent player - which shows the state of the team if one of our few bright spots is the punter.

Jurevicius got hurt in the first game of the season (go figure). The play was a pass to him, and he caught it and got hit. Of course, a Browns penalty negated the result of the play anyways, rendering it an utter waste. They thought he had some broken ribs, but didn't, and came back for the win over Oakland three weeks later. He ended up suffering a concussion in the home finale against Tampa Bay and missed the final game against Houston. For the season, Jurevicius hauled in 40 catches for 495 yards and three touchdowns.

This will all make sense in a minute, trust me. See, if you watched any Browns games this season, you could tell those who gave a damn from those who were just going through the motions, especially down the stretch. The second Steelers game in particular really riled me as a Browns fan, and the Tampa Bay game was the final straw.

I strongly felt that Jurevicius fell in the former category, of players who were giving it their all every week. My friend Tyler, a Florida native, loved watching Jurevicius play when he was a member of the Bucs. And my friend C.J., a fellow Browns fan, formulated the idea to send Jurevicius a bonus.

The letter that C.J. and I sent to Jurevicius has been reproduced below. Inside, we enclosed a $10 check and our congratulations for being the namesake and first honoree of the now annual "Joe Jurevicius Blue Collar Award." I haven't felt this strong of a connection to a local athlete since the Cavs dumped Trajan Langdon (which will be its own column, and probably soon, and you will understand why Trajan Langdon deserves to still be an NBA player.)

My roommate Dan asked me if I thought he would respond. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised either way. Obviously, it would be great if he did. And if not, that's OK too - the award and $10 prize will forever live on in his name.

"Dear Mr. Jurevicius,

My name is Scott Miles, and I am writing to you out of frustration for how this season has turned out. I, along with my dad and 60,000 other fans, spent a portion of Christmas Eve at the Stadium for the final home game. Needless to say, I don’t think too many people went home happy. We’re sick and tired of watching our team not only lose, but get embarrassed. Especially at home.

Several weeks back, some friends of mine and I went to a bar to watch the Thursday night debacle against Pittsburgh. During that game, my friend C.J. pointed out that you looked to be the only player on this team who passionately cares about its success. And you know what? He’s right. Over the last few weeks of the season, while it looked like most had already packed it in for the year, we saw you playing with a different type of fire than most of the others. The Tampa Bay game was the first game I’d been to in two years, and seeing things in person, along with hearing your post-game comments, only confirmed what we’ve known.

C.J., who plays football at Capital University in Columbus, had suggested during that Pittsburgh game that we send you some money as a bonus for your efforts. Enclosed in this letter you will find that bonus. Please accept it with the understanding that we’re just college students; if we could send you more, we would. We’ve also taken things a step further by starting an annual honor known as the “Joe Jurevicius Blue Collar Award” for the Browns player most exemplifying a commitment to winning. For that, we offer our congratulations, and our continued hope that you will continue to display the kind of passion and emotion that we saw from you this season, for the rest of your career.

Look, I’m a Cleveland native. Even though I’m only 19 years old, I know and understand the passion and tradition this franchise exudes. From the roots dating back to the AAFC, to Marion Motley, to Jim Brown, to Otto Graham, to Frank Ryan, to Gene Hickerson, to Paul Warfield, to Dick Ambrose, to Paul Brown and Blanton Collier and Sam Rutigliano…

We’ve all shared the pride in the past. Now is the time to give us something to be proud of in the future. Here’s to the rejuvenation of the Cleveland Browns franchise!

Sincerely,

Scott Miles

C.J. Steele"

'Roid Rage Raises Head...Again

2007-01-12T17:24:00.000-05:00

OK kids, finish this rhyme: "Cross your heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your..."

The answer, boys and girls, is "eye". But what would the answer be if we asked Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire or Shawne Merriman? Arm? Leg? @$$?

These three athletes have been in the "eye" of the hurricane, if you will, regarding their alleged use of performance-enhancing drugs. According to an Associated Press report, Bonds failed a test for amphetamines (which are a type of stimulant) last year, and it was also reported that Bonds blamed teammate Mark Sweeney for providing him the drugs.

(Sweeney, by the way, hit .251 last year with five home runs. Not exactly stellar numbers. He might want to try taking something a bit stronger.)

Though Bonds later refuted the claim that he had received the drugs from Sweeney, he did not deny taking any amphetamines. As a result, the circumstantial evidence continues to pile up against the man pursuing one of sport's all-time greatest records. Day after day, Bonds loses credibility and faces a more-than-uphill battle in the American court of public opinion.

McGwire, for his part, made the headlines once again in the latest baseball Hall of Fame voting. As anticipated, he failed to gain the necessary number of votes to be elected. Heck, he wasn't even close - only 128 of 545 voters (23.5 percent) selected him on their ballots, well short of the required 75 percent for entry.

The former Oakland Athletic and St. Louis Cardinal slugger blasted 583 home runs in his career, which places him seventh in baseball history. In 1998, McGwire and Sammy Sosa made their memorable push to break Roger Maris's single-season home run record, with McGwire reaching the plateau first and seemingly setting an insurmountable mark with his 70th dinger (Bonds broke that record in less than five years). At the time, everyone lauded McGwire's efforts for helping to save the game of baseball, which was struggling to regain fans after the 1994 strike.

But McGwire's legacy has forever been tainted by the infamous bottle of Andro found in his locker, as people began to question his cartoonish physique. After he retired from baseball, McGwire quickly faded away from the spotlight, but his testimony in front of Congress might have permanently damned him. "I'm not here to talk about the past," he repeated, as if being quizzed about the Louisiana Purchase, not about steroid use in baseball clubhouses.

Football, America's new pastime, hasn't been spared the negative press. Better known as "Lights Out" for his punishment on opposing quarterbacks, Merriman, last year's NFL Defensive Rookie of the Year, was suspended for four games for violating the NFL's steroids and related substances policy. Despite missing those four games, he piled up impressive statistics for the San Diego Chargers during this season, which warranted his name in the discussion to be named the NFL Defensive Player of the Year.

The other top contenders for the award, Denver Broncos corner Champ Bailey and Miami Dolphins defensive end Jason Taylor, who eventually won the award, vehemently opposed Merriman meriting postseason honors and recgonition. And who can blame them? While there is just rampant speculation about Bonds or McGwire, Merriman was found guilty as charged. And yet, Merriman was named to the AP's All-Pro Team and will head to the Pro Bowl after the season.

Why the double standards? Is it more acceptable for football players, who put their bodies through extreme punishment week in and week out, to take performance-enhancing drugs, as opposed to baseball players, who don't face the same type of rigorous punishment?

Though I highly suspect that McGwire took steroids or other illegal supplements, and the same for Bonds, nobody knows for sure except for them. For Merriman, it's open and shut: He cheated. Plain and simple. Gil Grissom of CSI would be so lucky to have a case like this. But while that may not play a part in Merriman's chances to make the Pro Football Hall of Fame down the road, provided he stays clean, we know for a fact that Merriman did something illegal.

I don't know if Bonds or McGwire did anything illegal, nor do I know that they are squeaky clean. And we may never know, unless they come out and admit to anything.

But what I do know is this: In America, we are presumed innocent until found guilty. So as much as I hate to think this, and as unpopular as this is across the country, Barry Bonds and Mark McGwire shouldn't be punished until there's evidence, conclusive evidence, of wrongdoing.

Closure

2007-01-09T09:03:00.000-05:00

I'm just going to say this real quick, then it's done and over with, OK?

As I partially explained to my friend Sam, a non-Ohioan, during halftime of last night's game, life in Ohio sucks. Unemployment is off the charts. Our last governor seemed to have the mental capacity of a two-year old. People leave the state in droves to live elsewhere. The weather generally is awful, and people are excited that it's been 45 degrees and raining all winter. Our professional sports teams have, shall we say, a less than stellar record of success.

But you know what we do have? We have pride, and we have Ohio State. Those have been the two constants, through the Bob Tafts, the Jane Campbells, the Dennis Kuciniches, the Tom Noes, the Lake Effect Snow Storms.

So fine. Go ahead and say what you want about last night's game. I don't care. I had my closure somewhere between the third and fourth quarters (I really don't know when, it's all a blur). I took a shower, cleansed myself of all of that, changed out of my Ohio State gear, and popped Airplane! into my DVD player. End of story, end of night. I have no idea what the final score was, nor do I have any intention of ever seeking it out. I do know that 12-1, a Big 10 title and knocking off a pair of teams ranked number two makes for a helluva season, though.

Try to talk to me about the game, and it'll likely end up as the following exchange from Airplane!:

"What was it we had for dinner tonight?"
"Well, we had a choice of steak or fish."
"Yes, yes, I remember, I had lasagna."

Enjoy your steak and fish. I'm eating lasagna.

Super Scintillating Jack City BCS Preview

2007-01-07T22:36:00.000-05:00

Shame on us, the media.

In case you missed it Saturday night, late in the fourth quarter of the Dallas Cowboys-Seattle Seahawks NFC playoff game, the Cowboys had a chance to kick a short field goal with under two minutes left that likely would have won the game. Tony Romo, who had emerged from being the backup quarterback at the beginning of the year into earning a Pro Bowl selection as the starter, was the holder for the field goal. The snap came back, and as Romo went to place it, dropped the ball. He scrambled for the end zone but was tackled short, and Seattle killed the clock for a 21-20 victory.

Romo sat alone, dejected, head down, on the bench after the play. Even though I really don't like the Cowboys, I couldn't help but feel bad for him. ESPN televised the postgame press conference afterwards, and the reporters kept hammering Romo over and over again, asking him questions like, "Exactly what happened?" and "Was that the worst moment of your career?" Meanwhile, Romo was doing everything he could to keep from bursting out in tears.

Those reporters all saw the play. They know what happened and what the result was. They knew that he was killing himself for what happened. And still they kept hammering him.

I thought it was absolutely unnecessary and an embarrassing moment for all journalists. These are the same people who had built Romo up so much when he replaced Drew Bledsoe in the starting lineup earlier this season. And now, so eager to kick him when he was done...just pitiful.

I'll get off my pedestal now and get back to the other reason for this column, and what I know all of you have been dying to read since the announcement of the college football national championship game. That's right, it's the Super scintillating Jack City BCS Preview!

For those readers who may not be as familiar with the Jack City blog as others, let me explain: I do not have the resources that ESPN has. I do not have the resources that the Columbus Dispatch or Cleveland Plain Dealer have. I can't give you interviews with Troy Smith, Chris Leak or Antonio Pittman. I can't have former college coaches break down the individual matchups or talking about coaching strategy. Heck, I don't even have the financial capabilities to get within 2,000 miles of Glendale, Arizona, nor do I think the NCAA would award a press pass to the former sports editor of the Capital University Chimes.

But if you want all those flashy graphics and interviews and bold predictions and rehashing of the same material, fine. I've been consuming it too. But nowhere, and I guarantee nowhere, will you find a preview like mine. So kick back, take your shoes off, forget about the start of classes for a few moments, and enjoy. Oh yeah...

GO BUCKS

The January Jamboree

The season comes to a close,
Teams almost finished trading blows.
Just two remain standing,
College football's final fling.

Ohio State, coast-to-coast
At number one, that's no boast.
Florida lost early to Auburn,
Back then, had much to learn.

The NCAA's changed its bowl format,
And though it still stinks like a dead rat,
But can't complain about the title game -
Mostly because it doesn't have Notre Dame.

Yes, we all hate the BCS.
Almost ten years later, still a mess.
Here's a suggestion, please don't scoff -
Why don't we have a national playoff?

Pardon me for a moment,
But right there I needed to vent.
Now, back to the action at hand
With the two best teams in the land.

OSU has handled all foes,
12-0, as everyone knows.
Our last game sent chills down my spine.
How many ways can you say "forty-two to thirty-nine"?

Since I last wrote,
The nation has spoke.
With his arms and legs, boy can he run -
Troy Smith, winner of the last Heisman.

That offensive firepower makes the Army blush,
We can throw, we can catch, we can rush.
Ginn, Gonzalez, Pittman, Wells,
Don't often go through cold spells.

The defense has been scary good
There hasn't been any dead wood.
James Laurinitis plays like a beast
Plays like an Animal on his way to feast.

The Bucks are the favorites in Glendale
In Arizona, they never fail.
Miami, Kansas State, now come the Gators.
Winners of the SEC and fellow Michigan haters.

Urban fought hard and got them to two,
Lloyd Carr didn't make much ado.
So the Bucks play against the blue and orange match
Instead of a Maize and Blue rematch.

No more words to say,
Time for the teams to play.
So far this season, I've told no lies
Tonight's winner: The Ohio State University Buckeyes!

Wait 'Till Next Year...or the Year After...or the Year After That...

2006-12-27T22:18:00.000-05:00

"I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing" - The Police

Here we are, three days removed from it, and people here in Cleveland are still talking about the Christmas Eve Massacre down at the lakefront. Mercifully, the NFL regular season ends this Sunday, and while about half of the teams still have a fighting shot at the postseason, the Browns players already have their one-way plane tickets punched for home after the Texans game.

(Overheard at last Sunday's massacre, from a drunken Browns fan to some Tampa fans sitting behind us who were cheering exuberantly: "Congratulations for winning the pillow fight, you losers.")

I actually think many of the players had their tickets punched before last week's game, Fan Appreciation Day for the fans at the Stadium. Over 69,000 fans spent part of their Christmas Eve for a team that 1:) Pooch-punted on its opening possession, instead of kicking a 44-yard field goal; 2:) Failed to score an offensive touchdown and threw four interceptions; 3:) Saw top receiver Braylon Edwards suspended for most of the first half for reportedly being late for a team meeting, than drop two passes that Captain Hook could have held onto, and finish with seven more yards than I did for the game; 4:) Allow Tampa to win its first road game of the year, with third-string quarterback and Cleveland native Tim Rattay leading the way.

To make things better, second-string quarterback Derek Anderson injured his shoulder and will miss the finale against Houston. Ken Dorsey will start in his place. Ken Dorsey. Excuse me for a moment while I stab myself in the spleen.

(Intermission, part two: Braylon Edwards, he who had two catches for seven yards Sunday, has his own website, www.braylonedwards.com. I am begging you to go to his site. Watch the intro video. Check out his photo galleries. Listen to the rap song about him, "B-Easy", playing in the background. Then look at his career stats. Even people in the Browns organization are laughing at this. Hey, Braylon? How many games have you played in, bud? And how many have we won? And what have you done to help this team win those handful of games?

The team gave away a bunch of free stuff to random fans. On the video board, one "lucky" fan received a game-worn, and autographed, Braylon Edwards jersey. It was booed quite loudly. One fan even joked that the jersey was probably pretty clean, seeing as how he hardly played Sunday and sure as heck didn't put forth much effort.)

Some time ago I put together a playlist on iTunes that I call my "Browns Losing Music". (You can also insert Cavs, Indians, Buckeyes or your team of choice into the title.) These are some of the songs in my collection that make me contemplate hurling myself off the Valley View bridge or driving my car into the Olentangy. Here's a sampling of some songs (I have 69 total, over 5 hours!) and why they made the cut. If you have any suggestions of more songs, let me know. And yes, I realize I'm too emotionally attached to my teams - it's called being a single, college-aged guy. Deal with it. Anyway:

"100 Years" by Five For Fighting: 100 years. Hmm. Probably the next time a Cleveland team wins a title.

"The Long and Winding Road" by The Beatles: "And still they lead me back..." Paul McCartney sings. Yeah, the Browns led me and 69,000 other fans back to the Stadium last Sunday and that was how we were rewarded.

"I'm A Loser" by The Beatles: Kinda self-explanatory there.

"Life Ain't Always Beautiful" by Gary Allan: Especially if you root for Cleveland teams. Plus, what's a playlist for depressing music without some country?

"The Unforgiven" by Metallic: "New blood joins this earth/And quickly he's subdued/Through constant pain disgrace.../Deprived of all his thoughts/The young man struggles on and on." Basically, any child who grew up in Cleveland after 1964.

"Jumper" by Third Eye Blind: Also self-explanatory.

"Changes" by Tupac: You know what, Tupac? Still I see no changes here, either. Just losing season after losing season.

"Mad World" by Michael Andrews: This song is more famous for being on the "Gears of War" video game ad. Just haunting, absolutely haunting. Kind of like the thought of starting Ken Dorsey at quarterback. I think fans are actually clamoring to have the likes of Todd Philcox, Mike Phipps and Spergon Wynn back. Ken Dorsey...I just threw up on my keyboard thinking about him starting this week. I really don't mind him playing, though - it should just be with the Toronto Argonauts in the CFL or the Berlin Thunder in NFL Europe, that's all.

"What Hurts the Most" by Rascal Flatts: (with apologies to Rascal Flatts) "It's hard to deal with the pain of losing every week/But I'm doin' it/It's hard knowing that the future's always lookin' bleak/Still harder/Gettin' up, gettin' dressed, knowin' that your team's regressed/But I know I can't do it all over/We would trade, give away, all our good players/All that's left are total strangers..."

Needless to say, this will be a very interesting day of football. Will it ever be necessary for me to create a "Browns Winning Music" playlist? We'll save that for another day. For now, let's see if the Browns can win their final pillow fight of the season.

2006 Year In Review

2006-12-22T22:27:00.000-05:00

First of all, a very happy holiday season to all the folks out there - yes, even you Michigan fans. I want to thank everyone for their comments on the last post, "Life on the Other Side" - if you couldn't tell, it was pretty fun writing that and I'm glad everyone enjoyed it. Actually, the biggest disappointment was a lack of reaction from fans of those "other" franchises. Perhaps because they know I'm hitting the truth? Hmmm...

Now, some things to add on:

* Ken Griffey Jr. injured again: It appears he broke his hand in an accident at home. I mean, this is just getting ridiculous. This is a player who was arguably the second-best athlete of the entire 1990's, behind that Michael Jordan character. An article I read on foxsports.com said he's been on the DL eight times since joining the Reds in 2000. It's getting to the point where everyone's thrilled that he trotted out there 123 times last year, which was the second-most games he played in a season with the team in six years. I joked the other day that my grandmothers were more durable than Ken, but it appears I'm going to have dig a little deeper than that - after all, they've never broken any bones in home accidents, and both are pushing 90. Hmm, 90...maybe the number of games Ken plays in this year? Anyone care to bet an over-under on this?

* Pittsburgh Penguins on way out?: So let me get this straight - a casino company offers to build the team a new arena, for free, with no taxpayer's money involved...and the state government said no??? Mario Lemieux looks more frustrated right now than Emilio Estevaz at the beginning of the first Mighty Ducks movie. You've gotta love the NHL...actually, I take that back - I'm counting down the days until professional hockey folds.

All right, since I've gotten that out of the way, the true purpose of today's column is to examine the year 2006 in all its sporting glory, as always emphasizing the home boys. As is usually the case around this time of year, you can't seem to escape these year-end wrapups: top 10 lists, quotes, moments, blah blah blah. Of course, "Jack City" will be touching on these same points, but only in the way that we can: lyrical poetry. Enjoy...

Revisit, Rewind

Late December, almost Christmas time,
Warm and rainy, here’s another rhyme:
Northeast Ohio, the only Snow we have here
Plays point guard for the Cleveland Cavaliers.

Thank God for LeBron and Company,
Who sometimes play like a symphony.
Other times, not so much –
Game Seven, Pistons, they got crushed.

But in that Wizards series!
Yes, there were some queries.
James quickly put them to rest,
Showing who’s the best of the best.

A new “Wild Thing” is often seen,
No, I’m not talking about Charlie Sheen.
With big, curly hair, and hails from Brazil,
Proves hard work can overcome superior skill.

Sluggish start this season,
No one has any reason.
Hopefully for coach Mike Brown
At the end, we’ll wear the crown.

The Indians also had their struggles,
Facing major bullpen juggles.
At third base, man, what a loon,
We won’t miss you, Aaron Boone.

Will C.C. stay healthy?
Is Dolan too wealthy?
Travis Hafner, what a stud!
Guillermo Mota, what a dud!

Eric Wedge, looking over his shoulder.
(Hey, we’re going after Mark Mulder!)
But if the Tribe continues to falter,
In will step Buck Showalter.

2007, likely a new story.
2006, often times gory.
Grady, Victor, Casey “at the bat”,
This team really shouldn’t fall flat.

As for the Browns, oh where do I start?
Constantly causing pain in our hearts.
One whom I’m glad that is gone
Calling the plays, Mr. Maurice Carthon.

Close games, blow outs, it don’t matter,
On the scoreboard, we’re usually the latter.
Kellen and Braylon sometimes look dull.
Four words: “CATCH THE DAMN BALL!”

Charlie or Derek, who will it be?
Maybe the winner of the Heisman Trophy?
Our QB’s always have a clean clock –
Our offensive linemen don’t know how to block.

Romeo Crennel captains this ship.
And here’s where I’ll take a major rip:
2007, over .500, that’s where we need to appear.
Else we’ll send Romeo back to Shakespeare.

Ahh, things are bright in the center of the state,
January 8, of course, is the date.
Glendale, Arizona, under the shining sun,
Where the championship will be won.

Florida’s the next opponent,
Number two in BCS judgment.
Leaping over hated Michigan –
HAHAHA, let’s laugh again!

The Bucks, though, should take the cake,
Assuming they avoid a big mistake.
Another title for Jim Tressel,
Without the whole Clarett-media wrestle.

So, too, the boys on the hardwood,
Right now are looking pretty good.
Thanks to a man named Thad,
And Greg Oden, who I think’s older than my dad.

Now for the Capital Crusaders,
Home at Bernlohr, fended off all invaders.
At season’s end, number three in the country,
With no doubt, that’s reason for glee.

What if Larry Kehres had missed?
What if Nate Kmic didn’t exist?
Tough ending for our quarterback fellow,
Gracing jersey number two, Rocky Pentello.

Hit the road with the volleyball team,
St. Louis really was a dream.
Played well but fell under the Arch,
Our girls did make an impressive march.

Also spent some time with the Captains,
Who sadly didn’t record many wins.
I’ll miss the fish races, that’s no rue-
Ran ‘em with the shortstop at JCU.

That’s it for all of this year’s bliss,
So have yourselves a Merry Christmas.
(Don’t think I forgot about ya –
Guys, enjoy the rest of Hanukkah.)

2006-12-18T22:46:00.000-05:00

Sometimes after Browns games, which have ended in losses 71.4 percent of the time this season, my friends and I question why it is exactly that we continue to support a team that, well, generally loses 71.4 percent of its games each year.

Personally, I blame my great-grandparents, or whoever it was that decided to settle in this beautiful swath of land known as Cleveland all those years ago. Geography, I say, plays the largest factor - no matter how much the Browns, Indians or Cavs suck, my pride in the city of Cleveland overrides all other factors.

One day, we mused as to what it would be like to root for teams in other cities. Who would we pick to pour our hearts and souls into? Whose website would we be checking every day for the latest free agent news, trade rumors or draft buzz? What fans would we associate most closely with?

Well, no need to fear, "Jack City" readers, for here is a guide into what life would be like on the other side! I've compiled a list of some geographically-local (to Cleveland) cities that support professional franchises who could be rooted for, if Cleveland had none. No college teams here, either. Enter...if you dare...

If I were...
A Cincinnati sports fan: Hoo-boy. Where to start? Well, if I were a football fan, I would have disowned my team for the better part of a decade. Then, when years of top draft picks finally pan out, I would start to have some interest in them again. In the case of the 2006 season, I would be a hardcore fan for the first few weeks, then hide in a closet during a mid-season losing streak and re-emerge after a recent stretch of good play. After Monday's loss against the Colts, who knows how I would feel. Since I'm under the age of 25, I'll have no appreciation for players such as Harold Green, Ken Riley, Carl Pickens or Darnay Scott who graced the uniform in the past. I do love Boomer, though.

The mayor of the city has also ordered all women and children off the streets when the Bengals aren't at practice or playing games, for fear of their safety. Eight players arrested, including one (Chris Henry) four times just himself, since last December? Those DUI's are just harmless fun, that's all. Our fine, upstanding young men have set a positive influence for the children of southwest Ohio and Kentucky. That's why the commissioner has talked to our team twice this year, right?

When baseball season rolls around, I can root for a team that's recently wasted the career of one of the best shortstops of all-time (Barry Larkin) and seen the transformation of one of the all-time best centerfielders (Ken Griffey, Jr.) into a player who has roughly the same durability as my grandmother. But at least we have Bronson Arroyo as our staff ace!

And during the winter, I can hold onto a composite-leather basketball in my driveway and try to impersonate the moves of Oscar Robertson or any of the other all-time great Cincy basketball players, past and present. Wait, the team moved out how long ago? No pro basketball now? That's so depressing, I'll do my best Deltha O'Neal impression (he's my hero, what a class guy) and pound a few cold ones before hitting the road.

If I were...
A Pittsburgh sports fan: I can be as arrogant as I want, because our team has five Super Bowl rings. Never mind that all of our players from those 70's teams are dying from complications of steroid abuse, broke and penniless, damnit, because we "just got one for the thumb!" Hell, right now we're the "best 7-7 team ever." We can finish every season 6-10 but it'll be all right because we're still the best team in the NFL. To paraphrase legendary philosopher Ricky Bobby, our team wakes up every morning and pisses excellence.

We also have a real nice baseball stadium, but sadly our team hasn't been relevant since about 1990. Now that I think about it, our star player from those past teams (Barry Bonds) probably scored his steroids from our former offensive linemen. So generous of them. I don't know about you, though, but I'm excited for the Freddy Sanchez era, and we have a Canadian (Jason Bay) who doesn't play hockey!

We don't have pro basketball, either. James Naismith didn't make it out to this part of the country, I guess. For now we have a hockey team, but no one wants to own it unless they can move it away from here.

If I were...
A Detroit sports fan: Things are going pretty well for us, actually. We have an exciting young baseball team that just lost the World Series against the heavily-underdogged St. Louis Cardinals, in which our star relief pitcher (Joel Zumaya) may have limited himself because of arm injuries sustained while playing "Guitar Hero." I wish I could make this stuff up.

Our basketball team has had a pretty nice run of success, too. Our hard-nosed style of play makes me proud of the way we play - now, can we just do something about Rasheed Wallace's bald spot? And his anger management program?

As for the football team, well...yeah, let's just move on to the next city.

If I were...
An Indianapolis sports fan: As my roommate Dan pointed out, it must be great to be a Colts fan. "It's 10 wins a year, guaranteed," he said. You know what, Dan? You're right. It is great being a Colts fan right now. Peyton Manning and Marvin Harrison are a better combination than peanut butter and jelly. Dwight Freeney is an absolute monster. And if Nick Harper hadn't been stabbed in the leg last year by his wife before that AFC Championship game against the Steelers, he would have outrun Ben "Sloth"-lisberger to the end zone. But you know what? It's OK, because we know we're going to the playoffs every year that Manning is around - one of these times we'll break through to the Super Bowl.

Our basketball team has also been a model of consistency for quite some time, save for some bumps-in-the-road with Ron Artest. That brawl a few years back was a bit of a black eye for the organization, but you'll have those. If only Reggie Miller hadn't retired...we need to bring him, Rik Smits and Chris Mullin back.

If I were...
A Columbus sports fan: Umm...when does that Ohio State game kickoff???

So there you have it, Cleveland-residents. Now that you are more informed about the situation, go out and wisely choose another fan-base to join, should the Cavs, Indians and Browns ever leave us.

On a side note, this led to me thinking about what I did between 1996 and 1999, with no Browns around. Young, lost and confused, I had a smorgasboard of football teams catching my fancy - I still have an old Cowboys pillow and a Dolphins bath towel. On "Madden '98" for PlayStation, I would always play as the Lions - I loved Barry Sanders, to go along with Scott Mitchell, Herman Moore and Robert Porsche. And on Sunday's, they would always show either the Lions or Bengals on TV, and a lot of Steelers games too. Of course, I always hated the Steelers, and the Bengals were kinda cute back then (read: no annoying bandwagon fans or "Who Dey" chants).

As far as the Browns go, I will continue to accept the grief (and sympathy, sometimes mixed into the same message) for a 4-10 team. After all, they are still my team.

2006-12-17T11:13:00.000-05:00

Over the weekend, I had the chance to watch parts of three college football championship games: Division 1-AA (or the Football Championship Subdivision, as the NCAA phrases it) and the Divisions II and III games. All three games were entertaining as the six participants wrapped up their 15-game schedules that stretched from the end of August or beginning of September.

Somehow, the NCAA has it all right for these "lesser" divisions, yet has it all wrong for their showcase league, the Football Bowl Subdivision (or Division 1-A, or the biggest reason why the NCAA grosses over $4 billion - yes, billion - a year).

For some reason, the bigwigs at the NCAA don't feel that a playoff is the best way to determine the rightful national champion in D-1 college football, even though that's how it determines the champions in every other sport in every other division that it runs.

They've made the argument that it will extend the season for too long (the National Championship game will be played on January 8, a full three weeks after the other divisions have wrapped up), that it will hurt the academics and studies of the students (I guess that Division 1-AA, II and III football players don't study) and that it makes players more susceptible to injuries (again, different standards for the different divisions - apparently, the other student-athletes don't get hurt).

As it is, the NCAA just stipulated this year that the schools in the Football Bowl Subdivision add a 12th regular season game to their schedules. This means that schools such as Florida, Ohio State's national title game opponent, will finish their season with 14 games played, because their conference has an additional championship game. That ends being just one fewer than schools like Appalachian State, Grand Valley State and Mount Union played this year.

(Random Note: Who is in charge of coming up with the names like the "Football Championship Subdivision" or the "Football Bowl Subdivision", Dick Vitale? Chris Berman? I can't wait for Tuesday's "Super Scintillating Spectacular" matchup between Northern Illinois and Texas Christian in the San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl, which is part of the Football Bowl Subdivision's postseason schedule. Anyway, back to the column.)

Look, everyone knows that the BCS is a joke. Everyone also knows that a playoff is the only true way to crown a national champion - this way, we can avoid the whole USC-Auburn tilt from a few years back.

So if I was in charge of the NCAA, here's my solution to this whole Football Bowl Subdivision (I love how this rolls off my tongue) mess:

1. Eliminate the whole BCS system of "1 vs. 2": Poof. Gone. See ya. However, I will keep the computer rankings - more on that in a second.

2. Eliminate pre-season polls: Completely worthless. You can't judge a team by how it looks in spring practices, or on how good you think the returning talent it (see: Notre Dame, 2006). No polls come out until after the third week of the season.

3. Eliminate the "12th game": I don't know about you, but I'm just not that excited to watch OSU play Youngstown State, or Michigan to play Ball State, or Florida to play Western Carolina, or...well, you get the point.

4. An eight-team playoff: Oh, I said it. Playoffs. Or, as Jim Mora would say it, "Playoffs? Playoffs?" Here's where I'd take the computer rankings used in the BCS to determine the top-eight teams. Is it perfect? No. There will be debate from the ninth and tenth teams left out, but you can't avoid that. I'd rather have the complaining from teams left out of those bottom spots than the situation we're in now, where only two teams have a shot at the top spot.

And even for those teams who play in a conference championship game, the maximum of three games that they'd have in a playoff situation would leave them at...15. Same as Appalachian State. Same as Grand Valley State. Same as Mount Union.

That eight-team playoff would leave us first-round matchups such as OSU-Boise State, Florida-Wisconsin, Michigan-Louisville, and USC-LSU this year. And look at some potential second-round battles: No.1 OSU against either No. 4 or 5 USC or LSU, and No. 2 Florida against No. 3 Michigan, all leading up to a national title game??? Wow.

It sure as heck beats the endless debate over who (arbitrarily) deserves the top two spots and three weeks of games like San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl.

2006-11-30T23:28:00.000-05:00

Fifteen straight national quarterfinal appearances. Eight national championships. A coach with 20 losses in 21 seasons.

Haven’t heard enough? How about winning streaks of 55 and 54 games over the past decade? How about leading every single second of every game this year? How about holding four teams (including Capital) to negative rushing yards?

That’s enough perverse pleasure for the masochists reading this column. But the fact remains; Mount Union is a very, very good football team, and the Crusaders will once again have their hands full this Saturday if they want to move on to the national semifinals.

Earlier this season, Capital traveled to Alliance, fell behind 17-0 early and never found a rhythm in a 38-12 loss. I was there, and the elements were as unkind to the Crusaders as was the running of stud back Nate Kmic (240 yards, three TD’s), who enters the rematch with four 200-yard efforts this year and 23 touchdowns.

Heck, Mount Union’s rushing attack is so strong, their second-string running back earned all-conference honors. Wow.

Though the Purple Raiders have (rightly) earned their status as the top dogs on the block, you can’t completely discount the Crusaders in the rematch. Capital’s 41-13 victory over North Central (Ill.) College pushed the football team to a school record 11 wins, and the Crusaders have maintained a top-five national ranking all season.

Capital’s success over the past few seasons hasn’t gone unnoticed: “We hope to someday consider Cardinal football a powerhouse, not necessarily just on the regional level, but on the national level with the likes of Capital and Mount Union,” said Kam Kniss, North Central’s quarterback, following Saturday’s game.

Senior quarterback Rocky Pentello has been the focal point of the resurgence of the Capital football program, which before this season hadn’t hosted a playoff game since the 1970 Stagg Bowl. Pentello became just the fourth quarterback in Division III history to surpass the 12,000 career yard mark Saturday while throwing for a career-best five touchdowns.

But the Crusaders are more than just Pentello’s gaudy passing numbers. Coach Jim Collins and defensive coordinator Jim Bickel have developed a defense that’s allowed Capital to win games in other ways besides shootouts. This year’s defense yields less than 12 points per game and holds its opponents to under 250 yards per game.

People have asked me all week, “Scott, is it worth going up there for the game? Do we even stand a chance?”

The answer: Yes. The behemoth that is Mount Union football, while not an easy task, is also not an insurmountable feat to accomplish. Remember, in this same round last year, Capital battled hard before dropping a 34-31 decision.

“They’re a great team,” Pentello said. “I don’t want to say we have to play a perfect game because we’re a good team too, but we’re going to have to go up there and play well and execute on both sides of the ball.”

“It’s the playoffs,” said sophomore safety C.J. Steele. “It’s anybody’s game.”

2006-11-20T00:05:00.000-05:00

The Cleveland Browns – the Losers on the Lake, the Wretched by the Rock Hall, the Chokers of the Cuyahoga – did it again to all Cleveland fans Sunday.

After totally dominating the Shittsburgh Steelers in every facet of the game in the first half, the Browns entered the locker room – with a 10-0 lead. We all know how today’s game ended.
Fumble. Missed field goal. Interception return called back. Penalty out of field goal range. Hail Mary ohsoclose. And that was just the first half. We left more points on the board than Drew Carey during an episode of Whose Line is it Anyway.

I don’t even know where to start. For as much as I, and all other Cleveland sports fans, invest in our teams, we get nothing back. Today served as yet another example of the disease that’s plagued the Browns, Indians and Cavs since 1964.

The second half proved as frustrating as any I’ve seen. Shittsburgh totally abandoned the run game and let Big Ben sit back in the pocket, where he picked the Browns secondary apart on short crossing patterns. The pass rush was ineffectual and nonexistent.

Fourteen of Cleveland’s 20 points came off of special teams and defense. I thought, oh I thought, that Josh Cribbs’ kick return would have deflated the high tide rushing in. Alas, alas…

Here’s how devastating this loss was – I watched the game with my buddies Rosen and TJ, and driving back we contemplated shooting up heroin and driving my car off the pier by Browns Stadium. The Winking Lizard, home of the Buckeyes Browns Backers, fell deadly silent after Charlie Frye’s final pass bounced off several pairs of hands in the end zone.

In fact, the loss even sapped away the joys of Ohio State’s triumph over hated Michigan. This had the potential to be the sports weekend EVER, and it ended with a giant thud.

I tried to wait a few hours to write this, to cool off, to pray that a level head would prevail. The cooling off period failed to soothe my burning intensity.

Five of the Browns’ seven defeats have been one possession. Saints, week one? Ugh. Ravens, week three? Please. Panthers, week five? Ehhhhh. Chargers, week nine? Six field goals kicked. Steelers, week 11? Well, just see above.

TJ aptly pointed out the Browns entered today just two games – two games! – out of the Wild Card, even with a 3-6 record. Even better, we’d leap ahead of the dreadful Steelers in the division and remain one game back of the Bungles if we were to win.

Of course, the Steelers didn't really win today's game.

The Browns lost it.

2006-11-16T21:29:00.000-05:00

While my friend John Carlisle took a more serious approach to previewing the most important game in college football history (well, maybe), I decided to go a different route. I can't compete with John or ESPN or any of the other thousands of media outlets that have done something to cover the game...in the conventional manner. Like my OSU-Texas preview, here's a special twist on Saturday's Big Game. So please enjoy (and understand that I'm an unabashed Ohio State fan - cryptic message at the end.)

Saturday
So now that time has come,
The biggest rivalry of them all,
An encounter between two and one,
College football’s come to call.

Capital and Wittenberg will be a battle,
(Oh wait, that’s a different game!)
Sorry, I didn’t mean to prattle –
That “other” contest has a bit more fame.

How about OSU-Michigan?
Saturday at the Shoe?
Will the Bucks win again?
Or will it go to the Blue?

When last I wrote,
To preview for the Buckeyes
We turned the Longhorns into goats
Much too weak to beat our guys.

I talked about Teddy and Troy
And their big play potential.
Nothing’s changed, not a ploy
Nothing too substantial.

Michigan counters with Henne and Hart,
Super Mario and a tough defense.
Certainly must get off to a fast start,
Else there might be no suspense.

Woody and Bo
Two coaching legends.
Jim and Lloyd have another go
Four out of five – Carr tries to make amends.

Before we delve any deeper
End right now this debate
And pray Michigan goes home a weeper
That, yes, was written with much hate

My devotion lies true
I will most certainly admit it
Chance Saturday’s winner wears blue?
Haha – that’s bullshit.

In time we’ll see
Gather all ye ‘round
And watch the game in glee
Not a vacant seat to be found.

2006-11-12T11:32:00.000-05:00

NOTE: I had the opportunity to travel with Capital's volleyball team to the NCAA tournament at Washington University in St. Louis, working for the athletic department and announcing our matches. Obviously, I couldn't turn this trip down, and couldn't pass up the chance to write about it. Here's the story:

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

7:40 a.m. (Eastern time): With my bags all loaded up, I left my dorm room and made my way across campus to the Cap Center, where the bus departed from. I’ve got so much stuff weighing me down – book bag, duffel bag, radio equipment bag, laptop - I feel like I’m going to war, not a volleyball tournament. The Mound Street construction doesn’t help, either; my legs started to drag hauling all that stuff around the “detour”, and I’m feeling pretty grateful that I remembered to grab that Gatorade out of the fridge. And yes, feel free to berate me for whining about having to carry 60 pounds of crap about 2,000 feet – I’m the one getting an all-expense paid trip to St. Louis.

8:00 a.m.: “Have you ever been on a bus with so many girls before?” asked Pam Briggs, the head coach. “Can’t say that I have,” I replied. “Oh, it’s an experience,” Briggs answered, as one of the players brings up a stack of DVD’s to watch on the drive. Top two on the list: ‘Mean Girls’ and ‘Elf’. Yikes.

10:15 a.m.: Rest stop somewhere in the midst of the great state of Indiana. I’m trying to figure out the difference between western Ohio and Indiana and came to the realization that it’s all just one strip of land. This epiphany, coupled with the USA Today I just picked up with all the election hoopla, makes me temporarily question why it’s even necessary to have state boundaries in the first place. You have three or four major cities in each state, and that’s really it. I mean, what’s the difference between Urbana, Ohio and New Lisbon, Indiana? Maybe a few cows, a streetlight here or there? Sadly, this is what happens to my mind after having to watch Lindsay Lohan try to act for two hours. The only cure: opening up the Sports section. Ahhh…

12:00 p.m. (Indiana time – idiots have to be different out here): We stop in lovely Terre Haute for lunch at the Golden Corral, which is like a Hometown Buffet for you Cleveland readers (I didn’t know what it was, either – my initial guesses were a Longhorn or Texas Roadhouse-type place, based off the name). Anyway, I immediately text my friend Rosen, telling him I’m looking out for Larry Bird; if you don’t understand that joke, just stop reading this right now and go back to your Cosmo or Newsweek.
As we sit down to eat, I’m reminded of past experiences eating on the road with teams, such as the buffet in Marietta with the Solon baseball team (“Coach Cisar better not step on that stress machine, it’ll make his head explode!”) to the Spaghetti Warehouse and McDonald’s in Toledo with the Solon boy’s basketball team (“Coach…can we go to McDonald’s instead?”).
Of course, sitting at a table with three volleyball players (Kara Guster, Heidi Rose and Heather Kwiatkowski) is a little different than being in a room full of baseball and basketball players. “Don’t pretend like you’re not listening,” Heidi says as the conversation turns to the number of shoes brought on the trip. OK, I won’t, but don’t expect any contributions to the topic, either.

1:05 p.m.: After a delightful meal, we’re back on the bus, where Coach Briggs loads up some game tape of Coe (Iowa) College, Capital’s opponent tomorrow night. “We have to attack and stay aggressive,” Briggs says. Coe appears to be pretty similar to Capital, but our coaches and players alike seem very confident.
I’ve noticed the bus is real quiet. Riding with my high school basketball team senior year, they would rap loudly and dance as if performing on stage, not in the back of a coach bus. I guess I’ve seen both extremes. I also couldn’t help but think that the movies we watched heading to Toledo were ‘Remember the Titans’ and either ‘Hoosiers’ or ‘Rudy’ – a little more apt choice before a sporting event then, say, ‘Mean Girls’ or ‘Elf’. But that’s just me.

1:40 p.m. – ‘Annapolis’ is the next DVD choice. Well, we’re getting there, but I’m still not holding my breath for ‘Field of Dreams’.

1:40 p.m. (Central) – Gotta love the time change. This movie isn’t half bad, actually – it’s like ‘Rocky’ meets ‘A Few Good Men’. All we’re missing is the soundtrack by Survivor and guest appearances from Sylvester Stallone, Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson.

3:10 p.m. – Welcome from the “Lou”! (Is it ok if I call it that? Nelly won’t be mad?) We drove in past the Arch, the Mighty Mississippi, and New Busch Stadium. Wait, is that a guy being handcuffed on the side of the highway by two cops? And another guy lying facedown on the ground? Some real life drama in the Lou! I can’t wait to spend some time in the most violent city in the country. Seriously.
We get to the hotel, the Sheraton, and unload. I have a room (1118) to myself, three floors above everyone else. Sweeet. I get into the elevator with some of the girls and ask Jordan Centers to hit floor number 11. She pushes it a few times but it doesn’t light up – we discover that I’m staying in the “SPG” or “Starwood Preferred Guest” area and have to swipe my room key to get up there. “Ooooh” choruses the girls. “I didn’t realize the athletic department held me in such high esteem,” I said.

3:36 p.m. – I unpack and turn on the TV. Guess what movie’s on? ‘Rudy’. I hate Notre Dame but it’s a great movie. I thought about skipping dinner to stay in and watch it, but my stomach told me otherwise.
As I’m about to leave, my friend John calls me about the Indians trade, acquiring second baseman Josh Barfield from the Padres for Kevin Kouzmanoff and Andrew Brown. I can’t believe I’m in St. Louis with a group of girls when this trade goes down – the Tribe picks up a player who can be the second baseman of the future (I’m trusting John’s gut here) and I’m so far away from it all? There are times when analyses need to be discussed, damn it, and I don’t think I’m going to get it done with the Capital volleyball team.

4:03 p.m. – We leave the hotel and walk a little ways to a restaurant/bar called CJ Muggs, a kind of place where the office buddies get together for a few drinks after work. The culture shock of sitting at a table with about 18 girls continues to set in – I try to focus some attention to the news about Donald Rumsfeld’s resignation, mostly in vain.

5:08 p.m. – Back in the room. Holy crap, why is ‘Sportscenter’ on now? Oh yeah…

6:45 p.m. – The team has headed off to practice at the stadium, and I decide to wander around the area a little. I don’t really travel much – this is the furthest west I’ve gone – so I want to do some venturing. We’re in a pretty nice part of the city, a business district, a courthouse, lots of new-ish type stuff. Nice little town, this St. Louis…

6:46 p.m. – Oh my God, is that man being robbed? Just kidding, just kidding.

7:17 p.m. – I had stopped in a little convenience store called World News to get something to drink, buy a disposable camera and look for a few magazines. While I was in there, a woman asked the clerk if they had the latest Jewish Press. I listened to see if they did, because I would have bought about five on the spot to send to all my friends back home. Regrettably, the World News did not carry any.

7:30-11:30 p.m. - I spent the rest of the night watching ‘Coming to America’ (“You must be outta your god damn mind! Joe Louis the greatest boxer to ever live!”), doing some homework and exploring the hotel (sorry, Sam, didn’t pick up any chicks at the hotel bar.) Back in action tomorrow.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

9:10 a.m. – It took me about seven minutes to figure out how to turn off my alarm clock. But here’s some free pub for Sheraton Hotels: Most. Comfortable. Bed. Ever. I don’t ever want to leave St. Louis.
I shower and make my way downstairs for breakfast, where I eat with Roger Welsh, the athletic director, and his wife. We spent some time trying to figure out the rather pedestrian number of students who attend Capital sporting events, especially since they’re free to students. It’s definitely an issue, especially given the success our teams have enjoyed the past few years, and sadly there don’t seem to be any clear answers.

9:50 a.m. – 12:15 p.m. – We visit the famous Arch. Wonderful tourist attraction, and it doesn’t hurt that it’s about 75 degrees and sunny. Is this really November 9? I’m glad I brought along some shorts.
Underneath the Arch is the Jefferson National Museum, and that’s where you buy tickets to get to the top of the Arch. The method of transportation to the top are these little Star Wars-esque space pods that fit five people, rather uncomfortably. It’s just a five minute trip up there, but I smacked my head on the ceiling no fewer than five times. I don’t see how anyone over 6’2” or 230 pounds could fit in there. Apparently the people of St. Louis are a bit smaller than average.
Once you get to the top, and ignore the migraine, the view is spectacular. Just stunning. I won’t even try to describe it here – wait for the pics from my disposable camera to tell the story.

1:00 p.m. – We get back to the hotel and walk over to a cozy little Italian place called Pasta Plus. This might be the only fast food Italian restaurant on the planet. It was pretty cheap, good quantity, good quality and my chicken fettuccini even came with two pieces of bread. Plus it smelled like an authentic Italian restaurant. The only downside was seeing some guy in a bright yellow shirt lick his plastic plate, like a dog, after he was done with his meal. I mean, he was really getting after it. I threw up a little in my mouth watching that display.

1:40 p.m. – Back to the Sheraton aka the Best Hotel On the Planet (you can send me a check whenever you want, Mr. Sheraton). The girls are still amazed about my “VIP” room on the 11th floor. Hey, I can’t help the celebrity treatment.
While they have study tables until we leave for tonight’s match, I’m free to surf the internet and watch TV. I discover we get ESPN Classic in the hotel. Have I mentioned how much I love this place? I watch Tennessee-Arkansas from 1997 (Payton Manning, Jamal Lewis, Peerless Price – what a team) and then ‘Stump the Schwab’. That’s entertainment enough for me, thanks.

3:30 p.m. – Game time. Well, not quite, but we head out to Washington University to watch the other teams and give the girls plenty of time to prepare. It’s only about a five-minute drive from the hotel, and the campus looks pretty nice.
I meet up with some the sports information staff from Wash U., who show me around and point me to where I’ll be doing the radio broadcast. They also mention that the school is hosting the NCAA regional volleyball and men’s and women’s soccer tournaments this week, as well as playing a home football game Saturday. I’m glad I’m not working in that athletic department.
We don’t play until 6 p.m., so the sit-and-wait game is on. I review my notes on Coe. I’ll spare all the tedium, but I think we have a good chance to beat them. This is their first time in the tourney, and we have a lot of experienced players.

5:50 – 8:50 p.m. – I’m all set up and on the air. Wow, what a thrilling match. Capital won it 3-2 (you can read my recap here: http://www.capital.edu/internet/default.aspx?pid=10037) and it was tight the whole way. Every time one team jumped out to a lead, the other would inevitably respond. You couldn’t ask for much more, except for the back pain I experienced being wedged between a table and the backrest of a bleacher for two and a half hours.
I talk to my boss Lenny for a few minutes and get a few text messages after the match. It’s too bad Mike, our other announcer, couldn’t make it down here. Of course, he is a Michigan fan, so I probably wouldn’t have been able to tolerate him for the week. I also call home and inform the parents I won’t be coming back to Solon this weekend (Capital football plays at Baldwin-Wallace Saturday). Bummer.
I walked out of the upper deck, where I announced from, and out into the hallway – smack dab into fencing practice. Yes, you heard me right – a bunch of students were fencing in the hallway. St. Louis is an interesting place.

9:45 p.m. – After watching a little of our future opponent, Washington University, beat up on Nebraska Wesleyan, the team leaves and picks up pizza from a place called Imo’s. We bring it back to the hotel and eat in the employee lunchroom downstairs. Let’s just say the pizza tasted like pizza would if it came from a place called Imo’s and leave it at that.

That’s all for tonight, day three and four updates coming tomorrow.

Friday, November 10, 2006

9:00 a.m. – Up for breakfast, an all-you-can-eat buffet. I’m not one much for a big breakfast and get some grief from the girls about my relatively small portions and the lack of syrup on my pancakes. Man, I thought I was sarcastic…girls can be ruthless sometimes.

9:50 a.m. – 12:30 p.m. – We had originally intended to visit St. Louis’ Science Museum, but found out that entry cost $10 a person. So we make a trip to the hallmark of the city – the Anheuser-Busch Brewery! That’s right, they have a guided tour, a small museum, and a nice gift shop. People over the age of 21 even get two free samples of whatever A-B beer they want at the end of the tour. “Did I see your hand go up?” Coach Briggs said to me after the tour guide asked how many beer drinkers were in our group of about 40 people.
The tour itself was pretty extensive – the place is HUGE. We saw the stables where the Clydesdales reside and learned about the entire brewing process. It was pretty interesting to learn about the different things A-B did to stay in business during Prohibition, making a variety of products. Of course I used up my disposable camera at the Arch yesterday and didn’t have time to buy another. We walked around for about 45 minutes and took a shuttle bus back to the main building where the tour started, and where the free samples would be passed out. “Are you going to have any?” Jordan Centers asked me as we rode back. “I’m only 19,” I responded, once again catching every one off guard (FOR THE RECORD – I’m 19 years old and in my second year at Capital. And I’m not Jewish, either.) Then the elderly lady sitting to my right offered me her ID, which broke up the whole bus. I think she was serious, too.

12:45 p.m. – We’re back at the hotel and walk over to the St. Louis Bread Company (or Panera, whichever you prefer) for lunch. On the way over, a pigeon just sitting on the sidewalk freaks out half the team. Despite the shrieks, the pigeon still sits motionless. I hadn’t paid much attention to it walking past, simply noting its presence, but I guess St. Louis pigeons are a bit more innocuous than their brethren nationwide.

1:35 p.m. – Back in the hotel room and doing some research on Capital’s opponent, Washington (Mo.) University. The Bears, which are hosting this tournament, are No. 2 in the country with a 34-1 record. They’re 15-0 at home and their only loss came against No. 1 Juniata back on September 15. They had five players named to the All-Region team, including one who is 6’3”. And oh by the way, they have eight national championships to their name – they’re the Mount Union of volleyball. Grrrrrreat.
We’re not leaving until 5:00 and I have a lot of homework to do, so sadly that’s how I spend most of the afternoon. The weather, which had been so picturesque yesterday, turned windy, cold and rainy in a heartbeat. Ahh, the comforts and joys of Ohio, 450 miles away from home.

5:00 p.m. – Load up on the bus. “Stay loose and have fun,” Coach Briggs tells the team. I’m sitting in the front by the coaches and they feel pretty confident that they have a game plan to knock off the Bears.
On the drive over to the campus, we pass a large statue of a fat man riding a turtle. I’m not making this up. St. Louis is a strange place.
We get to the stadium and sit in the bleachers to watch the first match between Rhodes and Simpson Colleges. I pull out my notes and start reviewing, and the girls ask me how hard it is to announce a volleyball match. “It’s a lot easier when it doesn’t take three hours,” I say, referring to last night’s marathon.
Overheard in the bleachers: “She’s a tree!” The tree in reference was in fact Washington’s 6’3” player.

6:45 p.m. – 9:30 p.m. – I’m all set up and ready to get on the air. I will admit, I get some jitters before announcing, especially since I’m still learning the sport. I’m also decidedly biased because (obviously) I want Capital to win and it’s tough to keep the broadcast balanced – plus I knew that a lot of people listened to last night’s contest and said I did a good job, so I wanted to match that effort.
I sat a few feet away from the radio announcer for Washington University, who was broadcasting for an actual FM station locally, not just the live internet stream that we have. They take their volleyball pretty seriously here in the Show Me State, I guess. Anyway, after every single point that the Bears scored, this guy would pumping his fist, slapping the table, convulsing his entire body. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry watching his antics – I think he missed the first day of Broadcasting 101: “Thou shall not openly cheer in the press box.” I’m not exactly sure if he realized that his team was supposed to win; they’re only number two in the country.
The Crusaders played well, especially in the second two games, but just didn’t have enough firepower to counter the Bears. The players and coaches were pretty upbeat afterwards, and they certainly had no reason to hang their heads after their effort.
We waited around for a long while afterwards for one of the players (who will remain nameless here to protect her identity from the greater community) to get mandatory drug tested by the NCAA. The team was getting pretty restless (and hungry) so we boarded the bus and headed back to the hotel, leaving previously unnamed player at the stadium with her parents until she could, umm, finish.
I was looking forward to seeing some more fencing (see yesterday’s blog), but they must not practice Friday nights. Too bad – I was going to ask to get some tips while we were waiting to see if any of our players were doping up.

10:00 p.m. – 11:30 p.m. – I type up the recap for the website upstairs in my room, then change and head back downstairs, where the team was gathering for pizza. While we waited, a rousing game of Apples 2 Apples picked up, where I am proud to say that I won the first two rounds and finished with a total of three cards. Definitely one of the highlights of the trip.
Thankfully we ordered from Papa John’s, and not Imo’s, which was universally agreed to be terrible. No one had to pretend to like the pizza tonight.

We left at 8 a.m. Saturday to go back to Columbus. Some notes from the bus ride home:

* We pulled up to a rest stop somewhere between Illinois and Indiana around 10:30. We got into the bathrooms just moments before a busload of senior citizens could walk in. “The old people were complaining about all the teenage girls,” Laura, the trainer, told me as we walked back to the bus. “It would have taken us forever if we had to wait for them first.”

* Movie selections: ‘Anchorman’ (very, very good choice) and ‘Fever Pitch’ (very, very bad choice). How does Jimmy Fallon have a job? Why on earth were the girls on the bus laughing at this movie? They think this garbage is funny? Please. Atrocious film. I had secretly been hoping for a good sports movie and this is how I was rewarded. If I was a Red Sox fan, I would want to strangle both the Farrelly brothers and Jimmy Fallon.

So that was it. We got back to Columbus around 4:00, unloaded the bus and dispersed.

Now, if you’re looking for some great personal epiphany that I experienced after spending with four days with a college volleyball team, or just some truly bizarre or crazy exploits, I hate to disappoint, but they didn’t happen. Or I’m just not telling – after all, besides for assistant coach Greg Peters and Coach Briggs’ husband, I was the only male riding around with the team the whole time. I’ll let you decide.

This is Scott Miles signing off. Thanks for reading, Crusader volleyball fans – have a good night, everybody!

2006-11-01T23:35:00.000-05:00

Even though the Cavs went 15-for-30 from the free throw line and committed 16 turnovers -they had so many passes intercepted in the first half, I thought Tim Couch was playing out there - they pulled out a 97-94 season opening win against the Washington Wizards.

I don't know how happy to feel right now. We held Gilbert Arenas to seven points on 2-of-12 shooting, Larry Hughes was lights out in scoring a game-high 27 points, LeBron James was LeBron James...and we still only won by three at home?

You know what? I'll take it. It's game one of an 82 game season, the Wizards are a respectable enough opponent, and I'm sure the Cavs will make some improvements. Right? Right. Please be right.

Now, some other quick thoughts:

- I love the new floor at the "Q". Very, very nice touch.
- It's nice to see the Cavs let Ira Newble keep his jersey this year. I think he's going to be one of the ball boys next season.
- LeBron James is... (fill in any apt adjective, they all work).
- Eddie Jordan and the actor from "Crash" and "Hustle and Flow" are exactly the same people. No doubt in my mind.

And some reactions to the game from the Solon boys:
Stuart Zaas - "Nice way to start the year"
Brian Rosen - "Life's good"
Brian Marks - "Back the fuck up!"

("He's not the best colorman in the league for nothing, folks!" Thanks Marks).

2006-10-30T10:42:00.000-05:00

After Phil Dawson's field goal put the Browns up 20-3 in the second half yesterday against the Jets, a strange feeling hit me.

"I can't remember the last time the Browns had a 17-point lead," I said to my friends TJ and Brian as we watched the game on TV.

I just checked it out - last year, a 22-0 week 11 win against the Dolphins.

That was 13 games ago. Almost a full season between having comfortable leads in a ballgame. I had completely forgotten what it was like to cheer for an NFL team with a lead.

Of course, the Browns being the Browns, the Jets cut quickly into that "comfortable lead" and only a controversial call in the end zone - the Jets receiver pushed out by safety Brodney Pool before landing in bounds - kept the game from being tied.

(Good call by the refs - you can't assume the receiver would land with both feet in bounds on that play. And a great job by Pool to get over there and hit him hard. And most surprisingly of all, the call didn't go against the Browns!!!)

It's amazing what a few good plays can do to a fan base. After Droughns's first two carries Sunday gained first downs, TJ, Brian and I came to the consensus that we would win the game. This was halfway through the first quarter with Cleveland trailing 3-0.

I woke up this Monday morning with a stomach ache and a head ache. But I thought back to the euphoric thoughts of a Browns victory and voila! Back at 100%!

Better yet, both the Bungles and Steelers lost Sunday. So now the Browns are tied for third with Pittsburgh in the division, and I think their fans are calling the Dr. Kevorkian hot line.

The Browns are 2-5 and head out west to face the San Diego Chargers. Will they be underdogs? Yeah. Should they win that game? Probably not.

But I'm not even worried about that right now. I'm still basking in the glory of this week's win.

2006-10-22T21:17:00.000-04:00

Two weeks ago, I bought a Reuben Droughns jersey at TJ Maxx for $25. It's bright orange and even better, it's an extra large - I look like Oprah Winfrey in a pumpkin costume.

Anyway, I was so excited to wear this jersey today, because the Browns had their bye last Sunday. Being the superstitious sort, I secretly hoped it would be a good luck charm for Droughns and a spark to the struggling Brownies.

What did I get instead? Droughns had 12 carries for 33 yards, including a fumble, and the Browns laid an egg against the Denver Broncos, losing 17-7 at home and falling to 1-5 on the season.

While I didn't think Cleveland would win this game, I expected a much better effort out of the team. Though Denver has one of the top defenses in the league, allowing just over seven points per game, the Browns had two weeks to prepare for this game - you have to step up your game at some point. And the Browns just didn't do it today.

The offense looks like a quagmire, and I'm not really sure why. Is Charlie Frye the answer at quarterback? He's had his ups and downs. What's the deal with the offensive line? Would LeCharles Bentley make the difference at center? Is Braylon Edwards (two catches, six yards Sunday) the playmaker he's been advertised as? And offensive coordinator Maurice Carthon's playcalling always leaves something to be desired - sometimes I wish we had the "Ask Madden" or "Ask Corso" feature enabled.

I think my friend TJ summed it up best today while we watched the game at Damon's: "If the Browns played on offense the whole game, and the other team just had to play defense, who would win?" Everyone agreed it would be a close game, because the opposing defense would likely return a few interceptions or fumbles for touchdowns.

Still, there are some positives for the Browns. Save for the Bungles Disaster in week two, the defense has played pretty well - it gives up some yards and isn't always the best at preventing third down conversions, but it also keeps teams out of the end zone. And I'm a firm believer that Dave Zastudil is probably the team MVP right now.

Sadly, the road for the Browns doesn't get much easier - games against the Jets, Chargers and Falcons are looming the next few Sundays. I hoped this team would finish around .500 this year and ready to make the leap to playoff contention next season, but right there are just too many unknowns in personnel and coaching.

Some other thoughts:

College Football - OSU keeps rolling on its collision course against The School Up North. Overheard in the Capital University football press box yesterday: Neil (the PA announcer) - "Any more announcements to make?" Me - "It's 3:53...and Michigan still sucks."

I've been asked, quite frequently, if I'd rather see the No. 1 vs. No. 2 battle or see Michigan lose. Frankly, I don't really care - if Michigan loses against Ball State, I'll be pretty happy.

As for Capital's football team, the Crusaders (ranked No. 4 in the www.d3football.com poll)dispatched of Otterbein 26-0 yesterday, setting up a match up with No. 1 Mount Union next Saturday. Honestly, the Crusaders will have to play a lot better up in Alliance than they have played the last few weeks - Capital made six trips inside the Cardinals red zone in the first half Saturday but only scored 16 points before halftime.

I'm not saying that Capital has to play a perfect game against Mount Union in order to win, but they need to do a better job taking advantage of those opportunities. The offense, which has been stuck in neutral since the second quarter of the John Carroll game, will have to find the end zone more than twice to win. The defense, which has struggled a bit stopping the run, will also have to shut down Nate Kmic, who rushed for over 200 yards against Baldwin-Wallace Saturday.

If you're not making the drive up to Alliance, I'm going to be blogging live from the stadium at www.d3football.com. More details to come later.

World Series - It's the Cardinals and the Tigers. I can't wait for the game three pitching matchup between Bob Gibson and Mickey Lolich.

Honestly, how did the Tigers get this far? You could anticipate Pudge, Kenny Rogers, Magglio, etc. having good years. But Craig Monroe, Curtis Granderson, Nate Robertson? Monroe just hit his fifth homer of the postseason, breaking the Tigers record. Not Al Kaline, not Hank Greenberg - freaking Craig Monroe.

The Indians will have some work to do to stay alive in the AL Central, which might produce two straight World Series champions.

2006-10-12T10:31:00.000-04:00

I promised to my favorite cross country runner, Brandon Laks, that I would update the blog this week. While I've had plenty to write about (the Browns play heading into the bye, a farewell to the Indians, LeBron James, etc.) I haven't had the time to put anything together.

So what you will see in this post is an excerpt from my short story, entitled "The Carpool", for my Creative Writing class. If you like what you see, leave me a comment or send me an e-mail and I'll send you the full story - it'll make you laugh, it'll make you cry, it'll make you question everything you've learned in life. OK, I made that last part up, but you get the point.

So without further ado...

Rainy days in the summer are such a waste, almost like spending nine bucks to see that big blockbuster movie that’s just terrible. My friends and I are still young enough to avoid the 9-to-5 jobs of our parents, so we try to enjoy the sunny summer days as much as possible before entering the real world. Golf, basketball, home run derby – if the sun was out, so were we.
Usually a day of rain means a day of Madden or Grand Theft Auto, but my buddy Dave called me and said a group of guys were going up to the Weston Rec Center to play basketball. In the midst of an eight-game road trip, the Captains didn’t require my interning abilities for another few days, so I readily agreed.
Our pickup games carry the intensity of a championship heavyweight fight. First to 11, win by two, we’re tied at nine and Dave finds me in the corner spotted up for a deep ball. Swish. Ballgame. I tapped my heart twice and pointed to the sky, the way I honored Katie after every made basket and every strikeout.
As we paused to catch our breaths before starting round two, I heard a familiar voice behind me. “Nice shot,” Ashley said, as she emerged from the weight room.
“Thanks,” I replied with a smile, using my shirt to wipe the sweat from my brow. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to see you make that shot and” - she paused for dramatic effect – “airball that 10-footer the last possession.”
“Oooooooh!” echoed seven guys at once, and my face, already reddened from the long, tough game, turned a deeper shade of crimson. I grabbed the ball, sitting innocently underneath the basket, and tossed it to Ashley. “Let’s see what you got,” I challenged.
She shrugged and took the ball back behind the three-point line. Ashley checked the ball to me, then took two dribbles to the right and froze me with a stutter step. She broke my ankles with an Allen Iverson-esque crossover dribble and blew by me for an easy left-handed layup.
Ostensibly my friends, the guys howled with laughter, jeers and cheers. Muttering angrily to myself, I stormed to the three-point line and waited for her to come back and check the ball. Ashley strolled back leisurely and tossed me the ball. “I don’t think I mentioned this, but I was the conference player of the year my junior and senior year in basketball,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“Wonderful,” I gritted through clenched teeth, preparing for my patented dribble-drive-spin move that kept the boys on their heels. On my first dribble, though, she reached out, slapped the ball away, and in one motion grabbed it and stepped behind the arc. Her shot rang pure and true, and the slaughter was on.
I managed to score three points on her, more luck than skill. She polished me off with a step back jumper that rivaled Michael Jordan’s. “Good game,” Ashley said, before walking away to the exit and leaving me shaking my head in wonder.

2006-09-24T20:16:00.000-04:00

I don't have the exact quote, but with precisely 5:27 left in the Browns-Ravens game and with Cleveland driving, clinging to a 14-12 lead, CBS announcer Steve Tasker said, "I hate to mention this, but the Browns have yet to turn the ball over in this game."

I watched the game at Damon's with my friends Brian and Ryan, along with about 75 other Browns fans, and a lot of hatred was hurled at Tasker for that comment. Why? Because that's when teams commit turnovers, right after an idiot announcer says something about it. It's more reliable than the sun rising out of the east every morning.

So it was only a matter of time. Brian opined that we would turn the ball over on the second play after Tasker's moronic statement. The dread grew in my stomach as the seconds ticked off the clock. Kellen Winslow made a great catch to push the ball down to the Raven four-yard line, and on first-and-goal Browns running back Jason Wright was stopped at the line for no gain.

In a blink of an eye, it happened.

Charlie Frye, under pressure, slung a pass in the end zone, where Braylon Edwards was in single coverage against Chris McAllister. But McAllister had the inside position, and stepped in front to make the play.

Interception. Turnover. Stunned silence in Damon's.

Of course we ended up losing. Matt Stover, my second favorite kicker in the NFL (behind Phil Dawson - Stover kicked for the Brownies before Art Modell ripped out the city's soul in 1995) simply does not miss field goals. Even from 52 yards out, I knew the kick would sail true through the yellow uprights. 15-14, Ravens.

As the clock expired, a dejected crowd exited the restaurant. Were it not for Damon's awesome mints, I probably would have driven my car into the Olentangy River. As such, I felt obligated to call and commiserate with my dad, sitting 120 miles away but feeling as frustrated as I was.

I couldn't put into words my emotions, but he knew. "Welcome to my life," he said.

Earlier this week, I painfully came to the realization that the only successful Browns team I can truly remember was the 2002 squad, which went 9-7 and lost to Pittsburgh in that heartbreaker in the playoffs. The Browns made the playoffs in 1994, but I was only seven years old and didn't recgonize the importance of that feat at the time. I can't even remember how many times I've wanted to give up on them because of the constant heartaches they give me.

And through it all, I'm still a fan. We're all still fans. Those are our boys, our family, out there, playing for us. Do we get upset when they don't perform as well as we expected or hoped? Of course. But they're still our team.

Next week, the 0-3 Browns face the 0-2 Raiders at 4:15. You can bet I'll be watching. Like my dad, it's my life too.

2006-09-18T22:11:00.000-04:00

First, I just want to thank everybody for their feedback regarding my last post - I'm not sure if the "Chimes" will run something on the editorial page or not, but I sure hope so as it seems that many students on this campus are fed up with how things have turned out here at Capital.

Now, onto the good stuff...

I wanted to put up a post yesterday afternoon right after the Browns game. I really did. But their effort, or lack thereof, Sunday afternoon completely sucked the energy out of me.

In my pregame post, I mentioned several aspects of a football game that a team must be successful in, or at least hold their own, if they want any chance to win. You can't have penalties negating big plays. You need an offensive line that dominates the line of scrimmage and allows you to run your offense. You need to be able to convert your third downs and keep the opposing team from doing so.

Now, the Browns did well in the penalty department, only two for 27 yards. Granted, they didn't have any big plays to get called back anyway, but you can't complain about the team only committing six penalties in two games.

The offensive line, on the other hand...yeesh. Across the country, fantasy football owners are kicking themselves for drafting Reuben Droughns, who has rushed for 59 yards in two games and required an MRI on his shoulder following Sunday's debacle. I mean, Charlie Frye is getting hit in the backfield on handoffs. As my roommate Dan suggested, the Browns need to hold open tryouts for Clevelanders who weigh 300-plus pounds to fill in on the O-Line.

(At the very least, Hollywood will remake it into a movie in 20 years or so - Ineffectual, or perhaps Insignificant.)

Above all, and what frustrates me the most as a fan, is Cleveland's inability to stop the opposition on third down conversions, and failure to convert on its own opportunities. These are plays where you can take the momentum, stall/continue a drive, wear out the opposing defense and give your D an extended break.

Sunday, the Bungles converted 8-of-15 third downs. The Brownies, 2-of-10. As Lee Corso would say, "Whoa!"

Though it's been just two games, Cleveland has done nothing to prove to me that they will put forth a competitive effort this season. I was legitimately excited about this team - a good mix of young talent with proven veterans. Though I didn't really expect a playoff-caliber team, I thought the Browns could hang with the big boys and knock off the weak sisters. That doesn't appear to be the case right now.

(Heck, I'm wondering if we'd make the playoffs in the CFL or NFL Europe. I have my doubts.)

I am, by no means, an NFL coach. However, as a keen observer, here's what I'd do to stop this version of the Titanic from hitting the iceberg:

1. More creative playcalling - How many more times are we going to run up the middle on first-and-10? Why is our backup fullback running sweeps on third-and-one? Why isn't Kellen Winslow touching the ball at least once every possession? Maurice Carthon better get his act together. And soon.

(Nice to see I'm not alone here - check out K2's comments here.)

2. Light a fire under Ted Washington's @$$ - He played decently against the Saints but was a nonfactor in the Bungles debacle. In order for the 3-4 defense to succeed, the nose tackle must occupy blockers and create some push up the middle. That frees up the linebackers to make the tackles. So far, Ted has been as invisible as a 380 pound man in an orange helmet can get.

3. Start the auditions for the 300-pound linemen - Hey, it worked for the Eagles in the '70's with Vince Papale. Why not us?

2006-09-16T19:07:00.000-04:00

Today's post isn't for sports, but rather for my fellow Capital University undergraduate students.

I worked until about 5:45 today and my friend Sean called me to go eat at the MDR, our school cafeteria. I wondered aloud how late it stayed open, which turned out to be 6:00. Why the only cafeteria on campus would close at 6:00 (and the Cru Club isn't even open Saturday's) is beyond me, so we hustled over and got in a few minutes before closing.

I wasn't expecting to find much food there since it would shut down soon, and I wasn't surprised to see everything had been picked over. I took two pieces of pizza and sat down by the TV with Sean, Chris and Tyler to watch the slaughter of Brady Quinn and Co. at the hands of Michigan. I finished my first slice and began eating the second when I noticed a long strand of hair by the crust.

I pulled the hair out of my pizza and took it up to the front desk. Mortified, the ID swiper (I have no idea what her official title is, or if she even has one) told me to put the hair down on the table and she would find her supervisor. A few minutes later, ID Swiper came over to my table with a piece of paper and a pen. "Write your name down, you get a complimentary meal."

"Here?" I asked, a bit incredulous.

"Yeah," she replied.

"But I've already paid for all of my meals this year."

"Sorry, but that's the best we can do," she said before walking away.

After she left, I realized I wrote "Scott Miles" on the paper, while my first name is actually "Jeffrey". So I probably won't be getting that free meal, not that 1.) I could use it in the first place or 2.) That I wanted it from the MDR anyway.

Look, I love Capital - I have great friends here, and great opportunities with the golf team, the Sports Information Department and the "Chimes". But things are becoming borderline ridiculous now. I guess it really started when they took away the men's bathroom stall doors last year in S.S. Now, the bathroom's in the dorms won't be stocked with handsoap all year. Our cleaning service has been cut down severely. The MDR has limited it's food offerings, and an FYI: the Cru Club is no longer open on Friday nights like in the past. Also, you have a better chance catching Nicole Richie eating a cheeseburger than you do finding a parking place during the week.

Do you want me to go on? All right, just a few more things because I could fill a novel with rants. The library was shut down Labor Day - we were playing football on the Renner field right next to it, and I couldn't help but notice how many frustrated students were turned away. The Capital Center has reduced its hours. Due to the Mound St. construction, there is only one narrow pathway to get across campus (going through Saylor-Ackerman), and not only does it get congested, it's also tricky to walk through when it rains - just a few swampy puddles, wouldn't you say?

(On a side note, it is fun to mimic the Traffic Report going through there. "Things are backed up at the S.A. passageway, looks like a collision heading northbound. Bunch of rubberneckers have got you slowed down heading both ways, and congestion snakes all the way back from the S.A. Quad to the Campus Center. I would suggest a detour but there are none, save for walking all the way over to College Avenue or Pleasant Ridge. This is Sky Chief Rick Abel, WTAM, 1100.")

The university's motto - "The Education You Want, The Attention You Deserve" - has turned into a putdown around campus, and I'd like to think I helped popularize it. Printer not working in Schaaf's computer lab? "Capital University - The Education You Want, The Attention You Deserve." Random power outage at 5:30 a.m.? "Capital University - The Education You Want, The Attention You Deserve."

Will things turn around here at Capital? Yeah, I'd like to think so. It looks like most of the village idiots have left (including former president Ted Fredrickson, Ted Fehres, Don Aungst and my personal favorite, Shane Carlin). Once we get a handle on this budget deficit (unofficially projected in July at $12 million or so - what did we do, hire A-Rod to teach some classes at the Law School?), Capital should return to a somewhat normal functioning university.

Of course, the classes of 2009 and 2010 don't really know what a somewhat normal functioning university even looks like.

2006-09-14T14:27:00.000-04:00

My disdain for Cincinnati has been well-documented (if you're a new reader, click here to see why). Sunday, my hatred will rekindle, as the Browns battle the Bungles in the Queen City.

I hate to label this a must-win game for the Browns for several reasons, such as:

1.) Every team tries to win every game (except, perhaps, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays or Atlanta Hawks). I think it's a stupid expression.
2.) It's only the second game of 16 - in other words, there's a lot more time for Cleveland fans to hurl obscenities and sharp objects at the TV.
3.) Deep down, I still can't take Cincinnati as a legitimate, playoff caliber team.

Still, another Browns loss this week might put me in a state of catatonia. Heck, the only reason I'm functioning now is due to Ohio State's victory over Texas. Saturday and Sunday, I'm praying for my "Football Trifecta Over Southwest Ohio" - Ohio State plays the Bearcats, Capital faces the Quakers of Wilmington College, and of course the Brownies-Bungles.

I'm fairly confident about Ohio State taking care of business, and Capital should beat Wilmington by roughly 50 points or so. But the Browns...

What frustrates me so much about the opening loss against New Orleans is the repeated on-field mistakes that have plagued the franchise since its return in 1999. Penalties bringing back big plays? Check. (Great article about that on the Browns website). Shoddy offensive line play? I'd say five sacks and 85 yards rushing, half coming off Charlie Frye scrambles, would qualify. Failure to convert third downs? The Browns were five-for-12 in those situations. A defense that can't stop the run and can't get off the field? The Saints carved the Browns front line for 156 yards on the ground and converted nine-of-18 third downs. Losing the turnover battle? Two-one edge for the Saints there. No pass rush? No sacks, no pressure on Drew Brees.

So did we learn any positives about the Browns? Well, Kellen Winslow certainly impressed - he brings a fire and tenacity that I've yet to see from any Cleveland athlete, ever. If I'm a cornerback matched up against him, I'm making sure my next of kin have been notified.

(My god, did you see the play where he collided with a DB running downfield, and instead of continuing to run his route, Winslow stopped to throw the hapless corner back to the ground. The ref had thrown his flag to call defensive pass interference, but he picked it up after Winslow destroyed the cornerback. Probably felt sorry for the guy.)

Some other things I liked, in no particular order...Charlie Frye's scrambling ability, though he needs to show more decisiveness in the pocket...The defense holding New Orleans to four field goals, when it could easily have been two or three touchdowns...The play of Ted Washington around the goal line, as well as some nice plays by D'Qwell Jackson at LB.

Will it be enough to beat the Bungles, who manhandled Kansas City Sunday? Like most football games, it comes down to the line play. Our offensive line couldn't open any holes for Reuben Droughns or protect Charlie Frye. Our defensive line put so little pressure on Drew Brees, he had enough time to read War and Peace while sitting back in the pocket before even looking downfield.

It may not be a must-win game, but it's time for the Browns to make a statement that they won't give up on this season.

2006-09-08T23:00:00.000-04:00

I have been asked quite frequently this past week my prediction for the Ohio State-Texas matchup. I also have a class assignment that requires me to write a poem. Hmmmm...

The Rematch

A state full of chatter,

Only one thing could matter.

A new dawn now arising,

What could be so mesmerizing?

Last year, oh so close,

To upending our Southern foes.

One question, I'll ask quick -

Why did Tressel stay so long with Zwick?

But that was then, this is now,

A new leaf has taken its bow.

Their queen bee has already stung,

Gone to the pros, bye bye Vince Young.

Ted Ginn, so fast, with speed to burn,

When will defenses ever learn?

Poor Tarell Brown, he had some doubt,

Trouble with the law, now he's out.

Now we've got the best man at the helm,

Making plays out of this realm.

With football in hand, moves so lithe,

Of course I'm talking about Troy Smith.

Our D is young, but so is their O,

At QB, some puny freshman Joe Schmo.

Fierce battles, though, in the trenches,

Big sweaty men - that's where the stench is.

'Tis number one and number two,

Who wins, I've no clue.

But I'm pulling hard for my OSU Bucks,

To beat up on those Texas...

Alright, I changed the last stanza for my class assignment ("A great game it shall be/ The whole country will be glued to the TV") because I don't know if my professor would be cool with ending a poem with such profanity. But you get the point.

Scott's Totally Unbiased Prediction: Ohio State 35, Texas 31

2006-09-03T15:32:00.000-04:00

Something's wrong here.

Today is the first Sunday in September. The forecast in Columbus is overcast and about 65 degrees. College football season began Thursday and picked up in earnest yesterday. And what do we have to look forward to today?

Kentucky vs. Louisville and TCU vs. Baylor.

The perfect time to start the NFL season occurs now. All the tantalizing college football games earlier this weekend serve perfectly to whet our appetites for the NFL's kickoff. Instead, we must wait until Thursday for the Dolphins and Steelers on NBC.

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty depressed about this. Labor Day weekend, a perfect chance for some distractions and reasons to procrastinate on homework (which I'm doing anyway by writing this, but you get the point).

Anyway, here are some other thoughts in my first update for awhile (Blame it on Capital's fabulous I.T. department):

Cleveland Browns: Umm, how can you not be excited about this team, outside of the inexperienced quarterback, a patchwork offensive line, battered secondary, and arguably playing in the toughest division in football?

Seriously though, trading for Eagles center Hank Fraley provides an immediate impact up front for the Brownies. Fraley's a proven veteran with big game experience in Philly - though he's coming off of an injury, he's only 28 years old and has started 71 games.

As impressive is the fact that coach Romeo Crennel and GM Phil Savage remain committed to winning now. After "The LeCharles Situation", they could easily have packed it in, said they gave it their best shot and blame the lost season on injuries (like past regimes). Instead, Crennel and Savage are out looking not only for guys to fill out the roster but actually help the team win, a noble concept for Cleveland teams.

In other news, Lee Suggs received his pink slip. I'm a little disappointed we couldn't trade him, but most likely other teams were scared off by his failed physical with the Jets. Suggs has tons of potential, but I think my 86-year old grandmother is healthier and more durable than the Virginia Tech grad. Plus, the emergence of Jerome Harrison in camp made Suggs expendable.

OSU Football: Though I didn't get much of a chance to watch yesterday's game, what I saw (in the first half) reminded me of NCAA Football '07 on PS2. Just send Teddy Ginn (or Theodore, as my roommate and I like to call him) deep on every play and let Troy Smith fling it as far as possible. I average about 300 yards receiving with Theodore in the game, and there's little doubt in my mind that he could do that in real life too.

Now comes the big showdown with Texas, who laid a beating on North Texas in their season opener. Yeah, I think I'll find the time to watch that game.

Capital Football: Rocky Pentello has an absolute laser for an arm and will likely hold most of the important OAC passing records at the end of the year. Derrick Alexander, a junior reciever who transferred in this year, can absolutely fly down the field. Jeremy Mulkey's a strong, fast back who only rushed for four touchdowns yesterday. And the defense, ranked in the top-10 last year, brings back nine starters.

As yesterday's 57-7 beatdown of Wittenberg showed, this season could be as much fun and enjoyable as last year. After a cupcake September schedule, the Crusaders will earn their stripes during the brutal October stretch (night game at John Carroll, at Ohio Northern, home vs. Otterbein, then at Mt. Union). There's a reason why we're ranked No. 5 in the country, though, and I have a feeling those other schools (well, except Mt. Union) are a little worried looking at the matchup with Capital.

Cleveland Indians: They've won five straight and nine out of ten. It's the most stupid rhetorical question in sports, but I'll ask it anyway: Why haven't they played this well all year?

I feel like I'm beating a dead horse here, so I'll cut short my diatribe against the Tribe, but this is the most frustrated I've been about the Indians - ever. Actually, I get pissed off just thinking about this failure of a season, so I'll stop now.

So I'll end this column on a positive note; the Reds are fading faster than Tom Cruise's popularity, and the Indians could have a better record than them. Heck, even the Devil Rays and Royals would compete for the Wild Card if they were in the NL.

2006-08-23T23:01:00.000-04:00

I was shocked to see that the Kansas City Royals, with a record of 46 wins and 81 losses, rank 13th in Major League Baseball with a .270 team batting average.

"With the way they hit against the Indians," I thought, "they should be in the top-five."

Entering tonight's game (in which Kansas City has already scored 13 runs through seven innings), the Royals carried a .304 team batting average against the Tribe this year. That's almost an extra three and a half hits per 10 at bats.

Or put it this way: take out the beating that they put on Tribe pitchers, and the Royals lineup hits only .265, dropping all the way to 21st in the league.

I hate seeing the Royals on the schedule. Nothing good ever comes out of it. If you beat them, so what? You're supposed to beat them. It's just the Royals; they have as much of an emphasis on winning as Nicole Ritchie has on eating.

If you lose to them, it's like getting beat up by your little sister. So far the Indians are 8-6 against KC this season, which I guess is respectable given that our overall record stands 12 games below .500.

Then I look at it the other way and see that 13 percent of Kansas City's wins are against Cleveland.

Sportstime Ohio put up the stat during the seventh inning that tonight, the Royals 3-5 hitters were 11-for-13. 11 hits in 13 at bats? That's ridiculous for slow-pitch softball, let alone a major league pitching staff.

Catcher John Bucks is batting .237 this season. Against the Indians: .400. Doug Mientkiewicz, David DeJesus and Mark Teahen are all close to .300 for the season, yet all sport .400+ batting averages against the Tribe, including Teahen's ridiculous .478 and an 8-for-8 stretch to start this series.

(I know I used ridiculous in each of the past two paragraphs, but that's how strongly I feel about this. When guys like Shane Costa, Esteban German and John Buck help derail what should have been a special season, you get bitter.)

It doesn't even stop there. The Royals rank last in the bigs with a 5.66 ERA, which seems to see just a slight improvement when facing the Indians (5.46). Keep in mind, though, that it counts the infamous Luke Hudson game, in which he gave up 11 runs (only 10 earned though) in just one third of an inning. That works out to an ERA of - get your calculators out kids, the formula is earned runs divided by innings pitched times nine - 270.00. 270.00!!!!!!!!!

(Exclude that start and the team ERA is a more respectable 4.76).

As I prepare to post this and go to bed, the Indians have rallied from a 10-1 first inning deficit to tie the game at 13. It's the bottom of the ninth and Rafael Betancourt struck out Mark Teahen, the first time in nine at bats he's been retired this series. Betancourt even took down Mike Sweeney, who as my friend Stu says, is likely the captain of the Indians Killers squad.

Ordinarily I'd stay up to watch the end of the game. But I'm not.

After all, it's only the Royals.

2006-08-20T23:17:00.000-04:00

Has it really been almost a week? Shoot. Well, without further ado, here is Part III of my Ex-Indians All Star Team: The Pitchers!

After about an hour of research, I found only four - four! - former Tribe starting pitchers still in the bigs. Yikes. Bartolo Colon (Angels) has only made 10 starts this year and will miss the rest of the season. Another group of three ex-Tribe starters - Zach Day, Ryan Drese, Billy Traber, all with the Washington Nationals - have combined to pitch 10 games this season. So they're out. That leaves us with this starting rotation...

* Kevin Millwood, SP, Texas Rangers - 2006 stats: 12-8, 4.58 ERA, 1.37 WHIP, .286 BAA, 26 starts. 2006 salary: $7.9 million

Scott's View: It would have been great to keep Millwood after the season he put together last year, but just not financially feasible. ERA inflated due to pitching in the hitter-friendly Ballpark at Arlington (6.14 home ERA).

* Jaret Wright, SP, New York Yankees - 2006 stats: 9-7, 4.50 ERA, 1.54 WHIP, .285 BAA, 23 starts. 2006 salary: $7.66 million

Scott's View: Ahhh, good ol' Jaret Wright. This is why I try not to get too excited about young players who play well in their first season. Because then you end up like Jaret Wright, with a career record of 66-57 and a 5.09 ERA. The next Bob Feller, huh?

* Scott Elarton, SP, Kansas City Royals - 2006 stats: 4-9, 5.34 ERA, 1.47 WHIP, .267 BAA, 20 starts. 2006 salary: $4 million

Scott's View: Has a lower WHIP (walks and hits per inning pitched) and opponent batting average than Jaret Wright, yet worse ERA? Strange. The pitcher signed to replace Elarton as the fifth starter, Jason Johnson, is 3-12 with a 6.35 ERA with both Cleveland and Boston this year.

Now, there have been numerous relievers pitching pretty well this year who used to sport the Chief Wahoo logo. Sadly, even having one or two of these guys here this season might have made a difference. I'm going to select two setup men and one closer to round out this pitching staff.

* Bob Howry, RP, Chicago Cubs - 2006 stats: 3-3, 3.15 ERA, 1.13 WHIP, .243 BAA, 19 Holds. 2006 salary: $3 million.

Scott's View: No surprise here - Howry proved over the course of the last two seasons that he's one of the most effective setup guys in the business. Pitched so well, in fact, that he outpriced himself for the Tribe to keep.

* Justin Speier, RP, Toronto Blue Jays - 2006 stats: 1-0, 3.05 ERA, 1.33 WHIP, .227 BAA, 22 Holds. 2006 salary: $2.25 million.

Scott's View: Shocked, absolutely shocked, to see Speier pitching this well. Had one good season and one atrocious season in Tribe uniform. Funny how that works out.

* Bob Wickman, CP, Atlanta Braves - 2006 stats: 1-4, 3.00 ERA, 1.23 WHIP, .247 BAA, 23 saves. 2006 salary: $5 million.

Scott's View: There's a reason why he's saved the most games in Indians history. He's been lights out since joining the Braves, converting all eight saves. For the record, fewer blown saves (three, albeit fewer situations) this year than Billy Wagner and Jonathan Papelbon (five), B.J. Ryan and Trevor Hoffman (four), and same as Mariano Rivera. Say what you will, big Bob knows how to finish games.

Here are the other pitchers who didn't make the cut:
Bartolo Colon (Angels) - David Riske (White Sox) - Ron Villone (Yankees) - Scott Sauerbeck (Inmate number 277452) - Dan Miceli (Devil Rays) - Brian Tallet (Blue Jays) - Danys Baez and Chad Paronto (Braves) - Guillermo Mota (Mets, just traded today) - Kent Mercker and David Weathers (Reds) - Jose Mesa and Tom Martin (Rockies) - Arthur Rhoades and Rick White (Phillies) - Alan Embree (Padres) - Steve Kline and Tim Worrell (Giants) - Zach Day, Ryan Drese and Billy Traber (Nationals)

(Before I go any further, I thought I should share the fact that Jose Mesa has 320 career saves and 1,000 career strikeouts. He's 40 years old now and has 17 years of big league experience. Just in case you're interested.)

I have selected 17 players to my 2006 Ex-Indians All Star Team: three starting pitchers (Millwood, Wright, Elarton) , three relievers (Howry, Speier, Wicky), five outfielders (Manny, Kenny, Coco, Roberts, Giles), five infielders (Broussard, Phillips, Omar, Bell, Bard) and one DH (Thome). Together, they have a combined salary of about $90.5 million this year ($104 million if I included Bartolo Colon with the starters).

Obviously, it's not realistic to have a real team like this. It assumes that you don't lose anyone to free agency or make any bad trades, and that you must have pretty deep pockets to keep all these guys (insert George Steinbrenner/Yankees joke here). It's also not even a full 25-man roster. Still, I thought it was fun to look back at all of the players who used to grace our presence "on the corner of Carnegie and Ontario", see who was still playing and where.

I'm also amazed that I could remember some of these guys, such as Tom Martin (24 innings pitched in '98 and '99) who couldn't crack the lineup or rotation of those great teams from the 90's. It also led me to think about some other guys who are now out of the league (where have you gone, Steve Woodward? Cameron Cairncross? Jolbert Cabrera?). Hopefully you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I did putting it together.

I'm still looking for more suggestions for my all-time Indians Killer team, so if you can think of a player who just flat-out owns the Tribe, let me know.

2006-08-14T22:37:00.000-04:00

Two big stories involving Cleveland sports today, a little shocking because the Indians had an off day, the Browns are still in training camp, and the Cavs are months away from opening tip-off.

- Browns RB Lee Suggs traded to the Jets for DB Derrick Strait: With Curtis Martin hobbled, the Jets needed a running back. With Gary Baxter and Daylon McCutcheon banged up, the Browns needed a defensive back. Plain and simple.

Just a few hours before this trade, I sent a message to my roommate Dan, a Redskins fan. 'Skins running back Clinton Portis went down in their preseason game last night with a separated shoulder and is out for a few weeks, might even miss the opener. I told Dan we should trade Suggs or William Green to Washington in exchange for a "fat guy who can snap a football." Center, another position of need for the Browns with the LeCharles Situation and the Bob Hallen "Walk Away From My Hometown Team With Fake Back Injury" Situation, could have been addressed in a trade. And it still might; with Reuben Droughns in firm control of the starting role and Jerome Harrison, the rookie who's supposedly impressed during camp, Green could still find himself traded.

Suggs showed flashes of potential in the backfield, but he just couldn't stay healthy. It was a matter of numbers, and Suggs got crunched. Now the odds are that he'll rush for 1,800 yards and 12 TD's each of the next five years, but so be it.

Let's just hope Derrick Strait doesn't blow out his ACL during the first play of scrimmage.

- Drew Gooden signs 3-year, $23 million contract with Cavs: Gooden is among the most talented power forwards in the league, grabs rebounds and plays solid defense. Although I'm sure Roger Brown will point out that two teams gave up on him in his first two years in the NBA, Gooden is still just 24 years old and could emerge as one of the premiere 4's.

He'll split time with Anderson Varejao again, but I like that; I don't think Varejao is ready to take over the starting role full-time. I love the enthusiasm and hustle (who doesn't?), but his offensive game is rawer than frozen beef, and he commits way too many stupid fouls. When he develops a post game and learns a little more control on the defensive end, he can really shine in the NBA.

Annnd now, because I know you are all dying to see it, Part Two of my 2006 Ex-Indians All-Star Team: The Infield!

* Ben Broussard, 1B, Seattle Mariners - 2006 stats: .303 batting average, 16 home runs, 50 RBI. 2006 salary: $2.48 million.

Scott's View: Broussard has been known as a streaky hitter and this year finally seemed to eliminate the 0-for-25 stretches that always seemed to plague him. Of course, he still can't hit lefties, his defense has been atrocious, the Indians stunk and traded him for Shin-Soo "Big League" Choo, and he's slumped since joining the Mariners. Yeah, things are definitely going well for ol' "Benny Brou". Put up almost all of those numbers with Tribe.

* Brandon Phillips, 2B, Cincinnati Reds - 2006 stats: .291 BA, .342 OBP, 11 HR, 57 RBI, 21 stolen bases. 2006 salary: not available, likely $400-600,000.

Scott's View: (Sigh). Traded (pre-maturely as this turns out) to the Reds after spring training for a player to be named later, who turned out to be Lake County Captain pitcher Jeff Stevens. Stevens is 6-1 with a 3.19 ERA and 3-4 years, at best, before competing for a spot on the Tribe roster. Phillips is finally playing like he actually cares about the game, something that lacked during his stint with Cleveland.

* Omar Vizquel, SS, San Francisco Giants - 2006 stats: .321 BA, .391 OBP, 3 HR, 39 RBI, 18 SB, gold-glove defense as usual. 2006 salary: $3.64 million

Scott's View: "Omar y Amigo!" It's funny how everyone still loves Omar, yet Jim Thome gets booed when he came back to Cleveland. Umm, they both left as free agents to teams offering more money. Anyway, I knew Omar was playing well in San Fran, but I was shocked to see his batting average so high. Good for him.

* David Bell, 3B, Milwaukee Brewers - 2006 stats: .272 BA, .337 OBP, 6 HR, 39 RBI. 2006 salary: $4.7 million.

Scott's View: Not a very strong position for former Indians, but Bell has been the steadiest here. Just got traded from the Phillies to the Brewers before the deadline. Indians traded him to Cardinals as part of the Ken Hill deal back in 1996.

* Josh Bard, C, San Diego Padres - 2006 stats: .330 BA, .403 OBP, 7 HR, 30 RBI. 2006 salary: $353,400.

Scott's View: Splits catching duty with Mike Piazza and has redeemed himself nicely after being forced out of Boston. Even though he batted only .193 with Cleveland last year, I always remember him hitting the ball hard, but just right at people. Part of the Coco trade this past offseason.

* Jim Thome, DH/Utility, Chicago White Sox - 2006 stats: .297 BA, .416 OBP, 35 HR, 87 RBI. 2006 salary: $14.16 million.

Scott's View: The man can hit. And now that he's back in the AL, he doesn't have to play the field. Which means all he has to do is hit. Did I mention how well he hits? Signed with Phillies in 2003 and traded to Chicago this year.

Including those guys above, I counted 19 former Indians infielders on major league rosters. Among them, a glut of first and second basemen who I had to leave off: Jeff Kent (Dodgers, 2000 NL MVP), Richie Sexson (Mariners), Sean Casey (Tigers), and Ronnie Belliard (Cardinals, also slumping like Broussard after trade). Those are some quality players right there. Here are the rest of the infielders to receive consideration:

- Sandy Alomar (White Sox) - Einar Diaz (Dodgers) - Alex Cora (Red Sox) - John MacDonald (Blue Jays) - Julio Franco (AARP, err, Mets) - Damian Jackson (Nationals) - Macier Izturis (Angels) - Marco Scutaro (Athletics) - Eduardo Perez (Mariners)

Regrettably, I left the immortal Ricky Ledee (Mets) off yesterday's list of former Tribe outfielders. Deep apologies for the oversight, but check out his stats and answer me how he is still in the major leagues?

My next and final update of this series will showcase former Indians pitchers, as well as the total payroll and how I think they would stack up in the AL Central this year. Stay tuned.

2006-08-13T22:33:00.000-04:00

It's always nice to play your best baseball down the stretch in August and September, as the season winds down and a few breaks here or there could mean the difference between playing in the postseason or planning your winter break.

The Indians have now won six straight games, matching their longest win streak of the year. Coupled with the five game skid that Detroit is on right now, the Tribe seems poised to have another stellar surge like they did in 2005 chasing the White Sox. With 45 games left this season, Cleveland trails the Central-leading Tigers by...

23 games.

On the bright side, we're only 17.5 games behind the White Sox for the Wild Card. And on a brighter note, by sweeping the Royals this weekend, we have essentially clinched fourth place in the division.

I wandered back to the break room at Classic Park shortly before 2:00 today, just in time to see Travis Hafner exchanging high-fives in the dugout after his grand slam, and just in time to see the scoreboard read "11-0". In the first inning. Royals starter Luke Hudson (who???) allowed 11 runs (only 10 earned though) in 1/3 of an inning. His ERA jumped from 4.65 to 6.39. Yikes.

But enough on the Indians. The current Indians, I should say. See, I was watching Sunday Night Baseball with the Dodgers and Giants squaring off. At one point, Kenny Lofton (Dodgers)grounded out to shortstop Omar Vizquel (Giants). I waited for the inevitable and unimaginative comments from Joe Morgan and Jon Miller.

"Those guys used to be teammates," Morgan keenly pointed out.

"Yeah, those were some pretty good Cleveland teams," Miller astutely observed.

That was it. End of story. How about the dominance of the Central Division for half a decade? How about two World Series appearances in three years? How about 455 consecutive sellouts? How about giving hope to an entire city where there once was none?

Oh well; nothing to do about it now. What I can do, though, is unveil Part One of Ex-Indians All Star team! The nostalgia of seeing Lofton and Vizquel on the same field, albeit in the National League and about 3,000 miles away from Cleveland, overcame me.

Every year, just for kicks and giggles, I've created a fantasy baseball on Yahoo stocked with nothing but former Indians players. Yeah, yeah, pretty lame I know, but it was a lot of fun and a nice little challenge. Usually I would finish in the middle of the pack, with pitching being my biggest Achilles' Heel. This year, I didn't have the time or energy to create my Ex-Indians fantasy team, but here is my time to shine.

(NOTE: This is for active players only...I don't want any comments about Roger Maris or Chris Chambliss, etc. As far as I can tell, there are 14 outfielders currently on big-league rosters who were once a part of the Indians organization. Part One, below, includes the five outfielders I would have on my team, and what it would cost the Indians to still have them.)

* Manny Ramirez, LF, Boston Red Sox - 2006 stats: .323 batting average, .432 on-base percentage, 32 home runs, 93 RBI, 27-game hit streak. 2006 salary: $18.3 million.

Scott's View: Umm, it's Manny Ramirez. Signed a billion dollar contract with Boston in 2000.

* Kenny Lofton, CF, Los Angeles Dodgers - 2006 stats: .311 BA, .365 OBP, 2 HR, 28 RBI, 20 stolen bases. 2006 salary: $3.8 million.

Scott's View: Even at the age of 39, Lofton has shown that he can still play at a high level. Traded by the Indians to Atlanta before '97 season, returned as a free agent after that season, then signed with the White Sox after 2001 season.

* Brian Giles, RF, San Diego Padres - 2006 stats: .272 BA, .382 OBP, 8 HR, 60 RBI, 6 SB. 2006 salary: $7.7 million.

Scott's View: After some All-Star caliber seasons in Pittsburgh and SD, Giles is finally starting to slow down but remains a fine hitter. Traded to Pirates, straight up, for Ricky Rincon after the '98 season.

* Dave Roberts, CF, San Diego Padres - 2006 stats: .307 BA, .383 OBP, 35 SB, 2 HR, 30 RBI. 2006 salary - $2.25 million.

Scott's View: Never given a fair shake in Cleveland, Roberts proved to be a solid pro and enjoyed his 15 minutes of fame with the Red Sox during the 2004 postseason. Traded to Dodgers before '02 season for two minor league stiffs.

* Coco Crisp, CF, Boston Red Sox - 2006 stats: .276 BA, .327 OBP, 5 HR, 23 RBI, 16 SB. 2006 salary: $2.8 million.

Scott's View: Similar numbers to Milton Bradley, but slight edge to Coco here because of the stolen bases, though both missed significant playing time due to injuries. Plus he's not an asshole and I love his batting stance. Traded to Red Sox this past off-season, along with Josh Bard and David Riske, for Andy Marte, Kelly Shoppach, and Guillermo "Groove a Fastball Down the Middle" Mota.

Other outfielders included Bradley, Todd Hollandsworth (Reds), Russell Branyan (Devil Rays), Willy Tavares (Astros), Luke Scott (Astros), Jeromy Burnitz (Pirates), Jody Gerut (Pirates - on the DL), Ryan Church (Nationals) and Alex Escobar (Nationals). I found a little interesting that the Red Sox, Padres, Astros, Pirates and Nationals each have two former Indians patrolling the outfield, at least part-time.

Coming up in the next installment: Ex-Indians All Star Team, Part Two - the infield! Stay tuned.

2006-08-09T22:27:00.000-04:00

This has been a great week in Cleveland sports, hasn't it?

- The Indians lost four straight one-run games before beating the Angels 4-0 tonight. Jake Westbrook, after allowing seven hits in the first three innings and tottering like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, showed some resilience and yielded only two more hits the rest of the game. We should have scored about ten runs off Angels ace John Lackey but managed only four. Still, it was a well played game by the Tribe, some nice defensive plays by Joe Inglett in left, Andy Marte at third and - gasp! - Jhonny Peralta at short. Sadly, this is what I've been forced to doing with the Tribe, looking for some positives one game at a time.

("We're talking baseball, Indians baseball - we're talking Tribe!")

- Cleveland's starting lineup included Inglett in left, Shin-Soo "Big League" Choo in right, Marte at third, Hector Marinnaro Luna at second and Ryan Garko at first. Yeah, this is definitely the lineup we expected to have in August after winning 93 games the previous year.

- Todd Hollandsworth was traded to the Reds for a player to be named later. Maybe it will be Brandon Phillips.

- Browns center Bob Hallen, pressed into the starting lineup after the LeCharles Situation, injured his back Monday morning, then apparently left to go to San Diego for "personal reasons". One problem: Hallen didn't tell anyone he was leaving. He eventually did talk to coach Romeo Crennel, who said in an article on clevelandbrowns.com that "He [Hallen] gave me good enough reason to have some concern on my part.”

The Plain Dealer reported that Hallen left to get a second opinion about his injury. Now, Hallen is a Mentor native, and while I've certainly taken my (well-deserved) shots at that city, is he too stupid to realize that the Cleveland Clinic and University Hospitals are about the best in the nation? Say what you will about Cleveland, but don't knock our hospitals - when you got shot after a botched robbery, you've got a good chance to live.

- Michael Reghi is out as the Cavs announcer. Unbelievable. Reghi provided solid and entertaining commentary for the team's broadcast. If the team played well, he was a great cheerleader. If the team stunk, he wasn't afraid to point it out. Dan Gilbert, in his ongoing quest to change the team into the Detroit Cavaliers (or Cleveland Pistons), brought in Detroit's announcer Fred McLeod to handle the mic. Get excited, because Fred is a local guy! Only problem is, he hasn't worked here for over 20 years.

I will mis Reghi's steady voice, the "Flight 23!" exclamations, the way he gave precise distances for desperation last-second heaves ("Snow, from about 67 feet"), how long three's were "launched from Shaker Heights" and just his general passion for his profession. If I ever make enough money to get NBA TV, I'll be tuning into Reghi's broadcasts frequently.

(Good news though - Ronnie Duncan is out as the PA announcer! I liked Ronnie when he did the sports on WUAB and WOIO, but he became insufferable doing the PA. "Eric let it Snow, let it Snow, let it Snow"? The first game I went to this year, people spent more time complaining about Duncan's style then paying attention to the game - myself included.)

- In a developing story, LeBron James contracted the bird flu while in China. Coach K said the team stopped at a KFC after their exhibition game with China's national team, and...

OK, I made that last one up. But it sure makes you feel better about Bob Hallen, right?

2006-08-06T22:34:00.000-04:00

Today, Tiger Woods won the Buick Open with a score of 24-under, putting together four straight rounds of 66. He beat a tough field that included the likes of Vijay Singh and Jim Furyk. More importantly, he notched his 50th career win and proved yet again why he's the best golfer, and possibly athlete, in our generation.

Think about it: 50 wins in ten years. Shoot, I don't think I've beat Solitaire 50 times in the past 10 years, let alone taming an entire sport like Tiger has.

Arguably the most impressive stat for Tiger is his Mariano Rivera-esque ability to close out tournaments. Tiger has held a solo lead heading into Sunday 21 times in his career. He has won every single time.

(Maybe he could help shore up the back of the Indians bullpen. Sorry, I couldn't write a column without taking a jab at the Tribe. It's just because I love them so much and can't stand to see them like this.)

I was maybe a little too young to fully appreciate Michael Jordan in his prime, but I have yet to see another athlete command such a presence, an aura, over his peers as much as Tiger has. At the beginning of his career, other golfers admitted to being intimidated by him. Eventually some challengers rose, including Singh, Ernie Els, Retief Goosen and most notably, Phil Mickelson. But I would take Tiger over any of them on any given day.

Tiger entered the day with a two-shot lead, but it might as well have been 15 shots. I watched most of the tourney yesterday and today, and never did any doubt enter my mind about his chances of winning. At this point, I'm more surprised when Tiger doesn't win a tournament than anything else. He's only played in 11 events this year and has won four times. For those who may not be all that familiar with the PGA, that's a pretty good stat line.

Ever since I started taking golf seriously about, oh, four months ago, I've reached a greater appreciation for all of Tiger's accomplishments. There are so many things that have to go right in your swing, I could spend three whole columns devoted to the basic principles, and it still wouldn't be enough. Then you have to factor in all the other conditions: practice time, weather, course conditions, mental focus, etc. Not to mention all the pressure and expectations that Tiger faces on a daily basis that the other golfers need not worry about.

Now, the next step for Tiger is the PGA Championship, played at Medinah Country Club. The last time the PGA was held there in 1999, guess who won it? Yup, and now he's looking to capture his 12th major title and 51st victory overall.

I wouldn't bet against him.

2006-08-04T15:10:00.000-04:00

Sorry about the lack of posting this past week but I was busy with my business trip/vacation to Columbus. So I have prepared a special, two-part post for you, my loyal and dedicated readers! Enjoy...

PART I: I attended the OAC's Football Media Day Wednesday, a great experience. One of the funnier moments (besides the interview with Heidelberg's coach, whose team perennially finishes 0-10, and listening to him explain why they'll be better this year) came during the interview with Capital's very own quarterback, Rocky Pentello. OAC Commissioner Tim Gleason asked Rocky what he plans to do upon graduating, and Rocky answered, "I'd like to be a firefighter, but I can't take the exam because I have four out-standing speeding tickets." Completely brought the place down. Later, Larry Kehres, the legendary Mount Union football coach, walked by our table and said to Rocky, "You know, you're NCAA ineligible with five speeding tickets."

While our quarterback can't take the firefighting exam yet, John Carroll's player representative, Matt Lemke, a Pre-Med major with a 3.9 GPA, has been working with the Cleveland Clinic all summer researching cures for cancer. He said he chose JCU in part because of the brand new science center they had built, and he also works with the campus emergency medical team.

That's nice and all Matt, but the Blue Streaks finished last year 7-3 and fourth in the OAC - we went to the NCAA playoffs, set a school record with 10 wins, and oh by the way, almost knocked off Mount Union in the quarterfinals. Most of that success came behind Pentello's arm. Maybe if Lemke spent less time studying molecular biology and more time studying game films, John Carroll would move up the rankings.

PART II: The Lake County Captains have a break room with a TV. If the Indians are playing at the same time as us, we usually put them on TV, and I'm able to watch a few batters here and there during the evening. I wandered back there last week when the Mariners were in town, just in time to see M's outfielder Raul Ibanez swat a home run. "He always kills us," said Luke, who works in the Captains ticket office and watching the game too. I agreed, thinking back to the informal list my friend Brian and I made about "Indian Killers" awhile back. Ibanez was a prominent member on that list. To be an "Indian Killer", you must fit several basic criteria:

1. You can't be that great of a player to begin with - for example, Manny Ramirez or Johann Santana aren't on the list because they dominate just about everybody, not just the Tribe.

2. Every time you see him come to the plate/on the mound, you know you're screwed. Or when you know his team is coming into town, you pray he's on the injury report, or just pitched the day before and can't play.

Now, Raul Ibanez is a solid player overall - a career .282 hitter, .341 on-base, decent power. Going back to his days with the Royals, though, it seemed like he turns into a Hall-of-Famer versus Tribe pitching. In nine games against the Indians this year, he's batted 15-for-38 (.395 batting average) with an on-base percentage of .439. He has one home run, eight RBI's, four doubles, a triple and seven runs scored.

But the beauty of the internet! I did some research on the nefarious Raul Ibanez to see his career numbers against the Indians and turned up the following (thanks to http://www.mlb.com 's "Batter vs. Pitcher" stats). Between 2001-2006, Ibanez:

- In 76 games, batted .297 (79-for-266) with 11 home runs and 56 RBI's, as well as 17 doubles
- Has a .363 on-base percentage and scored 48 runs
- Struggled against us in 2001 with KC (.231 BA) and his first season with SEA in 2004 (.212 BA, .235 OBP)

Based solely on the numbers, it seems that Ibanez actually isn't the Roy Hobbs-esque slugger that we Indians fans fear. Rather, he's playing just a little bit better than his career stats show. Will that make me rest easier the next time he steps into the batter's box against the Indians? Heck no.

The Indians, after sweeping the Red Sox this week (wait, we lost two of those games? But we held the lead in the ninth inning in both games!) face the resurgent Detroit Tigers, with a lineup that seemingly includes Ty Cobb, Alan Trammel, Al Kaline and Hank Greenberg, along with Hal Newhouser and Mickey Lolich in the starting rotation. Needless to say, they're playing pretty well this year. I glanced at their real roster and after ruling out Magglio and Pudge (too good), noticed one potential Indian Killer - Dmitri Young, a career .290 hitter. He's had his fair share of success against the Wahoo's, I'd say:

- In 72 games (with Cincy and Detroit, from 1999-2006), he's 81-for-268 (.302 BA) with 17 homers and 57 RBI's and 51 runs scored
- Absolutely slaughtered Tribe pitching in 2003 and 2004; 12 home runs and 35 RBI's total in 31 games, to go along with 37 runs scored and an OBP upwards of .440.
- This year, batting .545 (6-for-11) with two homers and two RBI's, with a .667 OBP and four runs scored
- In eight seasons against the Indians, has only batted below .300 twice; in 2000 with the Reds (3-for-24, .125 BA) and 2005 (14-for-57, .246 BA)

Cliff Lee, Paul Byrd and C.C. Sabathia, you have been warned.

If you have any suggestions for more Indians Killers (or Browns and Cavs Killers, for the fall and winter), let me know and I'll do the research. At the conclusion of this baseball season (which pretty much ended for the Tribe two months ago), I'll put together an all-time Indians Killers Team, with players from the past 5-10 years. I'll also be revealing my Ex-Indians All Star Team, with the greatest players of our generation who were either traded or not re-signed. So be sure to stay tuned here to Jack City as I'll do my best to keep it updated more frequently.

2006-07-31T23:52:00.000-04:00

In my haste, I forgot to mention several more things about the city of Cincinnati that drives me nuts and led to its inclusion on my list of "Cities I Hate the Most".

First of all, they're nicknamed the "Queen City". I mean, what's with that? How many queens have come from the city of Cincinnati? That's one of the weaker nicknames I've ever heard in my life. Can't we get Chris Berman or someone to come up with something more appropriate?

Secondly, all people in Cincinnati eat is Skyline Chili. It's an obsession, and it needs to stop. That's probably a reason why the city smells so terribly.

Finally, I was working with the Captains the other day, and a youth baseball team from out of town came to the game. All the kids had heavy Southern accents, so thick I could barely understand them. Many had stains of some sorts on their jersey. We had them signed up for some of our promotions, and they were pretty unruly and asking me a bunch of stupid questions. Trying to be nice, I asked their coach where they were from, and he said Cincinnati. Cincinnati! How could people from the fine state of Ohio act so unrefined? What a joke. There's a reason why so many "Give Cincinnati to Kentucky" Facebook groups exist (and one post responded, "I live in Kentucky, and we don't want them!" If Kentucky doesn't want anything to do with you, well...)

Some other random thoughts...

- Ronnie Belliard out, Hecotr Luna in. I'm real thrilled about this trade, getting rid of a proven second baseman for someone who couldn't overtake my cousin Aaron Miles for the second base job in St. Louis, batting a robust .280 with no power and shoddy defense. Even better, I read a quote from Luna saying he was excited to be "an everyday player". Hector, Hector, Hector - haven't you heard of Hall-of-Famer Joe Inglett? Shoot, you won't even be the most popular Hector in Cleveland sports - Hector Marinnaro still holds that honor.

- Fausto Carmona looks ready to take over the closer's role, huh? Seven runs in the last two games? I was at work with the Captains tonight, and when I left the Tribe led 8-6 in the 7th or 8th. I didn't listen to it on the way home because my friend Kelly was driving the carpool. Plus I was expecting them to score a come-from-ahead loss anyway. Sure enough, I come home, go to espn.com and boom! 'Papi's walk off lifts Sox' read the headline. Last year I woulda been pissed. Two months ago I woulda been pissed. Now, it's like hey, whatever, ob-la-di ob-la-da life goes on.

- I was talking to my boy Sam McCarthy last week(by the way Sam, congrats once again on the new job - we'll miss you in the Capital Athletic Department) after LeCharles Bentley LeRuined his LeKnee. Sam, a Shittsburgh native and Steelers fan) agreed about the misfortune that Cleveland fans face. Personally, I'm totally numb to it by now. As I said to Sam, you could tell me right now that LeBron James was the wheelman in a drive-by shooting in the Flats, and I wouldn't be surprised. My buddy Stu and I were trying to explain this feeling to Stu's girlfriend, who's not a sports fan, the other night. Not totally understanding, she was throwing expressions out there such as "immune" or "expecting the worst", etc. I guess that's kind of it. It's weird. This all would have been easier if my grandparents had just settled in New York or something and I wouldn't have to worry about it. But it's a lot of fun soaking in all the misery of ineptitude that seems to surround this city.

And finally...

I've wanted to talk more about world issues and current events on this blog but haven't had the time. The big issue right now is the war in the Middle East, and I can't figure out the world's backlash against Israel. I may be biased because I have many Jewish friends, but here's how I understand it: Hezbollah terrorists cross the border, kill some Israeli soldiers and capture two others. This comes on the heels of a similar incident by the Palestinians. Obviously Israel is fully justified in doing what it has to do to protect its sovereignty. Imagine if Mexican terrorists crossed into Texas and killed some American soldiers or civilians - we'd be sending the Marines and F-16's into Mexico City within an hour. Furthermore, there have been a lot of civilian casualties in Lebanon, which I sympathize for, but Hezbollah has put those civilians right in the middle of the war zone. U.N. reports indicate the terrorists use vehicles marked with Red Cross signs or similar peaceful markings to transport troops to the front line. Essentially, this leaves the Israelis with no choice but to continue to fight as they have. Hopefully the international community will put more pressure on Hezbollah, and not Israel, to stop the fighting.

2006-07-29T23:24:00.000-04:00

THE FIVE CITIES I HATE THE MOST:

Yes, back by popular demand, here is a list of places I absoultely, positively hate with a passion. The list is in alphabetical order because frankly, I can no longer rank them - they're all miserable. If given the choice, I would probably bomb them back to the Stone Age, because that's where they belong. Now, without further ado...

- Ada, Ohio (and Lima as well): Imagine, if you will, what the world would look like after a nuclear holocaust. There would be absolutely nothing around, no trees, no wildlife, no houses or buildings, no signs of life. Just nothing.

That pretty much describes Ada and Lima.

Ada is home to Ohio Northern University, an OAC foe of Capital's. Unfortunately, this has required me to take several treks to the Land Before Time, once for a volleyball match and also a two-day golf tournament. I can't even describe how boring the drive up there (from Columbus) is. I've seen more life in a funeral home.

The only places to eat in Ada are a Subway and, rumor has it, a Hardy's (or some other second-rate fast food joint, I didn't actually see one but people say it exists). Former Capital Assistant SID Sam McCarthy said that the Subway once ran out of bread. Come on now. Did "Jared" show up unexpectedaly and eat all their subs?

When Sam, fellow "Chimes" scribe John Carlisle, and I went up to Ada for the volleyball match, we had to stop and wait for a train around Kenton, which is fairly close to Ada. Inexplicably, the train stops in the middle of the tracks, then begins moving in reverse. Still completely blocking the road, the train stops once again before finally moving forward. This fiasco cost us 20 minutes of our lives.

I played a round of golf with an ONU kid from Ada. He seemed nice enough, until he tried helping out our group by giving us pointers about the golf course. For example, he told me to watch out for a "crick" on one hole. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about so I stepped up to my ball and took a good whack, sending it about 200 yards down the fairway before it disappeared into a valley before the green. "Nice hit," he said, "but you're probably in the crick." Confused, we walked up towards the green, where I found my ball had landed in a "creek", or a "stream".

Basically, the next time I have to go to Ada is too soon.

Ann Arbor, Michigan: Is a whore. Need I say more?

Thought not.

Cincinnati, Ohio: During spring break of my junior year in high school, my mom and I visited some colleges, including the University of Evansville in Indiana. We came home on I-71, which required a drive through northern Kentucky and Cincy.

It took us three hours to go 50 miles, traffic was that backed up.

As annoying as that was, I thought nothing more of the place until this past fall. See, Cincinnati has this NFL team, the Bengals (or the Bungles) which has, well, struggled recently. Like, for 15 years. Like, the the Browns had a better record from 1996-1998 then them, and we didn't even have a team. They were notoriously one of the poorest-run franchises in pro sports.

Now, this past year they got off to a pretty good start, won some games, blah blah blah. And all these Bengals fans just start climbing out of the woodworks! Where were all these fans the past 10 years? I doubt half of them even know who Sam Wyche or Anthony Munoz are, nonetheless Ken Anderson or Ken Riley. To listen to them talk, you'd have thought they were the best team in NFL history. And this was in Week 4, after beating powerhouses such as Cleveland, Minnesota, Chicago and Houston. Impressive.

Pretty soon, all you could hear on Sunday's were chants of "Who Dey!" I got news for you - "dey" is not a word in the English language. Sorry. "Who Dey! Who Dey!". And this was in Columbus! You could forget about watching a Browns game on TV - CBS almost exclusively carried the Bungles the whole season, much to the chagrin of civilized football fans.

After the Bungles lost on ESPN Sunday Night Football against Jacksonville (a game watched in my dorm room, with the door closed to block out the "Who Dey!" chants of ignorant fans down the hall), I opened the door and screamed "Who Dey! Dey Suck!!!" before slamming the door. That effort was rewarded by a glass bottle being broken outside our window.

The situation became so dire that I even started an anti-Bengals group on Facebook ("Who Dey? Dey Suck!"). I cheered when Carson Palmer went down. I cut out the full-size photo that ran in the next day's Columbus Dispatch with him lying on the ground in agony and hung it on my bulletin board, much to the delight of non-Bengals fans throughout the dorm.

And don't get me started on the Reds this year. It's the second coming of the Big Red Machine. Brandon Phillips is a combo of Barry Larkin and Joe Morgan. Is that David Ross or Johnny Bench behind the plate? Which Ken Griffey is out there on the field? Ryan Freel is the epitome of Mr. Charlie Hustle himself, Pete Rose. And Jerry Narron does have an uncanny resemblance to Sparky Anderson.

One last note: when the Reds came to Cleveland, a large group of "Nasty Nati" fans came too (oh, and they're pretty nasty, let me tell you). I attended a game the Tribe actually won (see my first post here), and with the Indians winning 4-0 in the ninth, the Reds fans started a "Scoreboard!" chant ("Scoooore-booooard! Scoooore-booooard!") What, exactly, were they pointing out on the scoreboard? That they were losing to a crappy Indians team? Stupid, ill-timed chant. Any respect I might have carried over for Reds fans disappeared in that blaze of glory.

Mentor, Ohio: I really want to extend this to all of Lake County, but since I work for a team called the Lake County Captains, I won't. I like my job.

Mentor is mainly on this list because of baseball. They played in the same summer league as us, and I cannot, for the life of me, ever remember beating them. Maybe once or twice in 5 years, if that. To make matters worse, it always takes over an hour to drive out there because of rush-hour traffic on 271 and 90, and those were some miserable rides, especially the several times we went out there only to have the game rained out.

Then, senior year, varsity baseball, sectional finals. Mentor is the top seed and we're playing them on their home field. We drive out there, only to have - go figure - the game rained out. Which was fine with me, because I was battling food poisioning from the cafeteria macaroni and cheese and spent most of the evening with my head in the toilet. But I digress.

The game is rescheduled for the next day. Game starts at 4:30; bus is supposed to pick us up at about 3:00. It doesn't show up until after 3:30. We don't get there until about 4:30. We're the home team (due to Ohio high school rules) and the umps don't give our starting pitcher, Jordan "The Moose" Schoenfeld any time to warm up. He gives up two runs in the first inning and we lose 2-0. Mentor goes on to reach the state finals. I go on wanting that city destroyed.

Pittsburgh (aka "Shittsburgh"), Pennsylvania: Man, do I hate the Steelers and their pompous fans. Enough already. We get it. The Steel Curtain. The Immaculate Reception. Terry Bradshaw and Lynn Swann. The Bus. And now Big Ben.

When news broke of Big Ben's motorcycle crash, my fellow Captains employees laughed. I hoped it was career-ending. Why? Just look at what's happened to the Browns for the past, I don't know, 40 years or so. The best player in franchise history - hell, NFL history - leaves to make movies in Hollywood ("The Dirty Dozen" is real good, but I'd rather have had a few more championships.) We had some good teams in the '70s but couldn't get by Shittsburgh. I'll sum up the '80s as follows: Red Right 88, The Drive, The Fumble. Art Modell took away our team in the '90s. Since the rebirth, it's just been one thing after the other, recently with Kellen Winslow's own motorcycle problems and what I'll now call The LeCharles Bentley Situation.

That's what it comes down to - our top player blows out his ACL popping wheelies in an empty parking lot; their star player gets a little banged up after being hit by a car! Ridiculous.

So there's my list, the five places I hate the most right now. It may be subject to change/addition as events unfold over the course of my life. If you have any more rants about these cesspools or suggestions for other unfavorable locales, be sure to let me know.

2006-07-27T16:06:00.000-04:00

I had no intentions of writing about the Browns yet. I had nothing to say about them this early. I know training camp started yesterday, but it's still July, for Pete's sake.

But now circumstances have changed. And I'm changing right along with them.

In case you hadn't heard, Browns center LeCharles Bentley injured his knee this morning. According to www.espn.com , it's a potentially season-ending injury. WTAM didn't go so far as to say that, saying its anywhere from a twisted knee to a torn knee ligament.

My dad broke the news to me in a voicemail while I was at work. His voice was hushed and sounded grave. Now, that could have been because he didn't want his boss to hear him, but I'm sure part of it owed to the fact that our biggest free-agent signing and probably best offensive lineman might miss the season after two practices.

I thought he was joking at first. Had to be joking, right? Right?

It took me about 2.7 seconds to realize that he was serious. My dad likes to make jokes, but even this would be tasteless for him.

Two practices. Season over?

I called him back as soon as I could. We laughed. Not a "hardy-har-har, 'Wedding Crashers', Dane Cook comedy skit" type of laugh. No, more like a "we're tied up and held at gunpoint and the bad guy just made a horrible joke" type of laugh.

I just can't figure this all out. Is Art Modell out there somewhere with a Cleveland Voodoo Doll, poking and prodding at our sports franchises? Has Rocky Colavito cast a shadow over the north coast? Heck, is Ted Stepien even still alive?

I try to be optimistic, believe me, I really do. But I think the rest of the country can understand why Clevelanders are pessimists. Pittsburgh and Detroit are extremely similar cities to C-Town, economically, politically, dirty, etc. But they've got the Steelers (ugh), the Pistons (sheesh) and even the Tigers (gasp!). And what does Cleveland have?

Two practices. Season over?

2006-07-26T23:08:00.000-04:00

Though I'm only 19, I consider myself fairly well schooled in baseball history. But the Indians, well, the Indians have stumped me.

Then again, what else should we expect from this failure of a season?

Today, Cleveland traded starting first baseman Ben Broussard to the Mariners for outfielder Shin-Soo Choo. Cash and a player to be named later were also part of the deal. So now Cleveland has dealt the Mariners not one but two first baseman (Eduardo Perez being the other) in less than a month. Though I'm sure it's happened before, two major league players from the same team and position traded to the same team, I have no clue when.

Basically, the first base platoon that Mark Shapiro envisioned pushing the Tribe to the postseason now does its business in the heart of Starbucks country, giving a jolt to the M's own postseason surge (3.5 games out of the AL West).

Did I say in the heart of Starbucks country? Actually, all Broussard needed to do today was clean out his locker and move a few hundred feet across Jacobs Field, as Seattle starts a series against the Indians tomorrow.

Shin-Soo Choo now joins the major league roster. Seems like he was tearing it up in AAA. I just read Mark Shapiro's comments about Choo:(http://cleveland.indians.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/news/article.jsp?ymd=20060726&content_id=1576695&vkey=news_cle&fext=.jsp&c_id=cle)

Once Shapiro calls Choo "this player". Another time, "this guy". Never refers to Mr. Choo by his name. Now, how are we supposed to get excited about a player who the GM doesn't even call by his name?

More good news from downtown Cleveland; I had the honor and pleasure of attending today's Indians game, a masterful 4-1 defeat at the hands of the Tigers. The Tribe: 1) Failed to get hits with runners in scoring position; 2) Failed to advance even more runners into scoring position when given the chance; 3) Failed to finish off Tiger hitters after getting ahead 0-2 or 1-2 in the count (ahem, C.C., sixth and seventh innings).

Failed, failed, failed. If you had to calculate the Indians season on a GPA scale, they would have been held back a year. Sent to summer school. Lucky to earn a GED.

But hey, at least I got to see Joe Inglett's first career home run today! I'll always remember this date, because with the write-ups Joe's been getting recently in the Plain Dealer, he's basically a combination of Ted Williams with the bat, Robbie Alomar with the glove and Gandhi off the field. If only we'd called him up sooner, we'd be right in the thick of things!

Terrible, terrible, terrible. Another lost season. I can't wait for next year, when we can watch Superman Joe Inglett at second base and "that player" playing right field for a full season.

2006-07-24T23:45:00.000-04:00

Starting our sophomore year in high school, my friends Stu, Amol and I volunteered as youth coaches for the Solon Recreation Department. The primary intent, at least for me, was to earn some community service hours to bolster the ol' college resume.

Never did I imagine, three years later, how big a part coaching would play in my life.

We originally just wanted to coach flag football. Then it expanded to basketball and baseball. Pretty soon we were coaching indoor and outdoor soccer, albeit reluctantly.

(Though we felt fairly comfortable in our knowledge about football, basketball and baseball, us coaching a youth soccer team was like Brittney Spears trying to teach a kid how to sing. In other words, it wasn't pretty and probably more detrimental to the kids than anything else.)

I still remember our first flag football team, a group of first and second graders. Most had never played football before. They didn't know any of the positions and couldn't really run any plays (it took us about halfway through the season that most of the kids didn't know their right from their left yet.)

The one area the kids excelled at, though, was keeping score. Six points for a touchdown, one more for the conversion - they were on top of it. Of course, since the kids were so young, the Rec didn't keep score or track wins and losses - but our kids sure did.

We coached another memorable team, basketball, fifth and sixth graders that Stu's brother Daniel played on. They were a great bunch of kids - Daniel, Tim, the Kearney twins - plus they were pretty good. After the season, which ended with a heartbreaking loss in the playoffs, we took the kids to Mitchell's Ice Cream and ended up hanging out there for over an hour. I even walked over to EB Games with the Kearney's where they persuaded me to but them a $5 video game. It didn't take much persuading.

Without a doubt though, and I'll speak for Stu and Amol here, our favorite group was a baseball team of fith and sixth graders ("Majors"). We coached Daniel and Tim again, as well as Aaron, who singlehandedly beat our basketball team in that playoff game. We also had a player by the name of Luke Bando. You may have heard of his dad Chris, who played for the Indians, or his uncle Sal, an All-Star on those great Oakland A's teams in the 70's. Needless to say, Luke was the best hitter, pitcher and fielder in the league. He even switch hit, and was more successful from the left side than his natural right side. And boy, did he have a cannon for an arm.

That team only lost one game (when we played with a bunch of third graders called up from the younger league). We won games in all types of fashion; thrilling come-from-behind victories, 10-run rules, everything. We cruised through the playoffs and easily won the league championship. To this day, I don't remember who was happier - the kids or me.

But now it's all come to an end. We coached our last baseball team this summer, a Pony league team of seventh and eighth graders. Stu, Amol and I all work, and it's tough to make it to the games sometimes - I missed over half due to work. Plus, we went through a very rocky season. Most of the kids wouldn't show up until right before the game started, leaving us to wonder if we could even field a team. We would always have to call up two or three kids from the younger league just to have enough players. And it was pretty easy to tell that a lot of them really didn't want to be there.

Considering how much fun the past few years were, it was disappointing to go out this way - almost like the star athlete who's trying to hang on for a few more seasons, even though he's way past his prime.

I was still able to meet the team, or what was left of it, at Dairy Queen tonight after our final game. We lost in the playoff semifinals, a game that, like so many others this year, we should have won. I came straight from work and by the time I got there, it was just Amol and three of the kids. Pretty fitting, I thought, as all I could think of were the happier moments of years past.
Those memories, though fading as time goes on, are how I'll choose to remember our Solon Rec coaching experiences. In the end, I'm glad we could give all of those kids the same opportunities that we had, to play Rec sports and have a good time.

And those memories? I wouldn't trade them for anything.

2006-07-20T22:15:00.000-04:00

Some quick thoughts on the trade of Bob Wickman:

- The numbers don't lie, Wicky's the best closer in Indians history. He'll forever be remembered as being, umm, a tad heavyset, as well as the thrilling ninth innings he provided. Love him or hate him (I loved him), he always got the job done, even if it did raise your blood pressure to, well, somewhere near what his probably is.

- We don't need a closer for this year. We're like 87 games behind Detroit and Chicago in the Central. Plus, Wickman is probably going to retire at the end of the year, so he wouldn't benefit us at all down the road. He's been close to retiring for two years now (there's a reason why Shapiro went after Trevor Hoffman and B.J. Ryan in the offseason, he didn't know if Wickman would still be around). Might as well give Fausto Carmona a shot now and see what he can do.

- Since Wicky is only around for maybe 2 more months, I don't think his trade value was very high. Which explains why we got a single-A catcher in return for a closer who saved 45 games last year and would be near the top of the league again this season if the team didn't stink.

- When I saw that we got a catcher, I initially figured he'd be in AA or AAA and ready to compete for a job in spring training next year. Victor Martinez would move to first (bye bye Benny Brou), Kelly Shoppach would catch full-time, and the new guy would possibly backup. But since he's so low in the system and likely at least three years away from the bigs, status quo might reign at catcher and first base.

I'm going to miss Bob Wickman. I hope that he pitches well for the Braves this season, maybe leads them back to the postseason. Now let's cross our fingers and hope that Carmona has the same type of success, only without developing the beer gut and the knack for dramatic endings.

2006-07-18T23:34:00.000-04:00

I'm often asked, if one of the Cleveland teams could win a championship first, who would you want it to be?

Obviously, a flaw exists in the question; right now, I doubt anyone in Cleveland cares who does it first - they just hope they're alive to see it done.

Still, my favorite sport is baseball, and my favorite team is the Indians. I was too young to really remember them being terrible in the late 80's-early 90's (and, of course, not even alive for the 30 or so years before then), and then the Browns left, and the Cavs stunk...well, it was easy to fall in love with the Tribe. Especially those teams in the mid-90's, with Omar, Sandy, Charlie, Thome, Kenny, Manny; those were fun and magical times, and we expected them to last forever.

That's why the disappointment of this season has affected me so much. I have never, ever, ever, given up on an Indians team before. Not even the rebuilding a few years ago killed my passion. I had faith that we would be back. Now, the most painful words I've written...

I've officially given up on the 2006 Cleveland Indians.

As I'm writing this, we (they) are losing 5-1 to the California-Anaheim-Los Angeles Angels. We (they) have lost four of five since the All-Star break and could very well (gasp!) find themselves battling KC to stay out of the cellar (only nine and a half games and shrinking with every Aaron Boone error!)

Here is a statistical analysis of the 2006 Cleveland Indians through 92 games this season. We'll start with the positives (aka "mostly offensive") then go onto the negatives (aka "everything else"):

The Tribe has the third highest batting average in the majors (.283), third highest slugging percentage (.465) and sixth best on-base percentage (.350). We (damnit, they!) have scored the fourth most runs (565), hit the second most doubles (192) and the clubbed the fifth most homers (123). And our pitching staff is tied for second with the most shutouts (8) and complete games (5), while allowing the fourth-fewest walks (253).

Ahh, but that pitching staff...

It ranks 22nd in ERA (4.75). It's allowed the tenth most runs (471). It has the second fewest saves (14, and not Bob Wickman's fault at all - the Indians have made it possible for the 280-pound closer to be invisible). Opponents are batting .280 against Tribe pitchers, the fifth worst mark in the bigs. And when those runners get on base, boy oh boy... 78 stolen bases allowed, with only the Padres (with Mike Piazza and former Indians standout Josh Bard behind the plate) worse.

Another major problem has been the defense, which sometimes reminds me of the Solon Rec baseball team I coach. Sadly (for both the Indians and my team) that's not a compliment. A .979 fielding percentage ties for second-worst, and the team has committed the sixth most errors (71). With a team that plays defense so poorly, it would help if the pitching staff could strike out more batters so that less balls were put into play. Unfortunately, that's not the case, as Tribe pitchers have struck out just 532 batters, the second fewest in the league.

But hey, at least the Indians have that offense! It keeps them close in those tight games by doing the little things such as bunting runners over and stealing bases. Whoops, no it doesn't! Cleveland has the fewest sacrifice hits (bunts and flies) and the second fewest stolen bases.

Whew. After re-reading the last few paragraphs, I realize why the Indians stink this year. One list of positives, three of negatives. And as I'm writing, the Tribe now trails the Angels 6-2 in the seventh after being gifted a run. Jhonny Peralta just blew an inning-ending double play.

But why would that surprise me? This Indians team has made me expect the worse, because frankly, that's where they belong this year.

2006-07-17T09:55:00.000-04:00

After a weekend that was busy, crazy, terrible, fun, hectic and hot, I've finally found a few minutes to sit down and relax this morning. I woke up at 6:30 today - not entriely by choice - and went to the golf course to play nine holes and hopefully clear my head a little.

I think it worked.

See, I like getting to the golf course early, when it's calm, still and empty. Golf is a lot better at that time, when you don't have to wait for the 15 minutes on every hole for the four duffers in front of you to finish. Nothing is more peaceful than a golf course on a beautiful morning.

Alone with my clubs and my thoughts, I can play a round pretty quickly. These early morning rounds are the best mental therapy for me. It may sound corny and trite, but I've found that life is really all about the little things. Since this is primarily a sports blog, I will relate some wonderful experiences with sports I've had the past few years that I've come to appreciate more and more:

- Joe Charboneau gives baseball lessons at Unlimited Sports, the facility at which I work. For those of you who don't know, "Super Joe" played for the Indians and was the 1980 A.L. Rookie of the Year, before injuries derailed his career. Before I left for college last August, I was astonished at how nice and friendly he was. I came back to work in May, and the first person I saw was Joe. "Scotty, how's it going man?" he asked with a big smile and an even bigger handshake. Joe Charboneau remembered me? It may not seem like much, but he made my day. (Later he asked me if I had any dip. For the first, and only, time in my life, I wished I had some to give to him).

- Jim Thome received a mixture of boos and cheers (mostly boos) when he returned to Cleveland this summer. I will always have fond memories of Thome, who used to work out at Unlimited Sports. One wintry day we were deluged with snow and I was outside shoveling, struggling to clear our front walk, when none other than Mr. Thome himself appeared, shovel in hand, and helped me finish. Another time my friend and I brought some baseballs and asked him to sign, which he did uncomplainingly, and also chatted with us for a few minutes. Say what you will about him leaving Cleveland, but I will always remain a Jim Thome fan.

- As an intern with the Lake County Captains, single-A affiliate of the Indians, I have many different tasks during the course of the game. Occassionly I will be with our mascot Skipper, making sure he gets to the on-field promotions on time and keeping the kids from swarming him. We also visit the stadium's suites, and one day Cleveland Browns GM Phil Savage had our diamond suite reserved. We walked in and Savage was watching the U.S. Open on TV, and while Skipper entertained the little kids, Savage walked up to me and asked, "So you've got to follow the big guy around today, huh?" Dumbfounded, I could only nod. Then he stuck out his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Phil Savage." I shook his hand and replied, "Yeah, I know." He asked about the Captains, my future, and seemed genuinely pleased when I told him I wanted to work for the Browns, Indians or Cavs someday. That 5-minute conversation with him is one of my fondest memories of all-time.

In addition to meeting some great people, my fledgling amateur athletic career led to some memorable moments. Our varsity baseball team played a game at Jacobs Field, and after warming up in the Indians bullpen, I pitched the sixth inning. Absoultely unbelievable. Every time I go to a game I am reminded of that feeling.

It's amazing how much a little round of golf can bring out. I feel it is the most humbling of any sport I've played (and trust me, it humbles me pretty often), and despite the frustrations it offers me the greatest chance to just take a deep breath and relax.

To put it briefly, golf is like a mulligan for real life.

2006-07-14T14:38:00.000-04:00

Sorry that I haven't had time to post more this week, but that's the drawback of having two jobs. I wanted to write about Tuesday's All-Star Game but I only saw the last 2-3 innings. Oh well. The following is a column I wrote in the "Chimes" in the beginning of April. Enjoy:

I quit the baseball team in the fall. It was the best and worst decision I’ve made in my life.

I told myself that by quitting, I could focus more on academics, on work, on writing for the “Chimes”. I could enjoy spending more time with my friends and perhaps even find that ever-elusive girlfriend. Most of all, I could finally relax.

And yet, not a day goes by where I don’t long to be back on the mound, squinting in for the catcher’s sign and firing in my 76-mph heater. I miss the camaraderie of being around the team and going through the ups-and-downs of the season. Most of all, I missed the competition.

Any truly successful athlete (or in my case, moderately successful) can tell you that competing and defeating another team or individual provides a great thrill, a great rush. And for me, 3-on-3 pickup games with friends just didn’t cut it anymore. I needed to get back out onto the playing fields and prove myself again.

So I joined the golf team. Never mind that I never played on my high school team, that my scores were more reflective of Wilt Chamberlain’s greatest output (100 points) than Tiger Woods (61), and my lone rounds of competitive golf were dollar-a-hole with my friends.

I practiced with Coach Kline twice before my first tournament. With a changed swing and a positive attitude, I felt nervous but eager to make my intercollegiate debut.

Unfortunately, there were no fairy-tale endings for this sports writer, only lost balls and triple bogeys. I won’t reprint my score here, but let’s say that it shattered Chamberlain’s NBA scoring record. Much like The Fray, I was in “Over My Head” in that first tournament.

Still, the beauty of sports gives me another chance to repeat after a failure. I played much better in my second tournament; a 36-hole excursion at the Columbus Country Club that left me sunburned, fatigued and yet smiling from ear-to-ear. I had been knocked down but got up to answer the bell, as I will continue to do for the rest of the season.

At the end of his baseball memoir “Ball Four”, former pitcher Jim Bouton said "You spend a good piece of your life gripping a baseball, and in the end it turns out it was the other way around all the time." And to me, his statement rings true.

Even though I will always remain a baseball player at heart (I wear my Capital baseball hat when golfing), I am embracing the competitiveness and challenges of golf at the collegiate level. Judging by my current caliber of play, I follow a quote from another famous baseball player, Hank Aaron.

“It took me seventeen years to get 3,000 hits in baseball,” Aaron said. “I did it in one afternoon on the golf course.”

2006-07-10T22:45:00.000-04:00

The World Cup has come and gone. Yaaaawwwwwnnnn.

For some reason unbeknownst to me and millions of other Americans, soccer (or football or whatever the hell you want to call it, I don't really care) has easily become the world's favorite sport.

It got to the point where I couldn't even enjoy my morning SportsCenter on ESPN, because all they had on was soccer. I would flip on ESPN2, desperate to catch some Cold Pizza (yes, that is definitely a sign of desperation), only to see some guy from Trinidad & Tobago flopping around the "pitch" as if he had been shot with a 12-gauge.

I watched the replay: When the guy hit the ground, there was no one within 5 yards of him. This led to some guy on the other team receiving a yellow card (apparently the Trinidad & Tobagan player was actually Dwayne Wade).

Throughout the last month, we have been preached to about the glamour of this "sport", the beauty, the history, the passion, the culture. If you don't like soccer, well, you're just ignorant. The rest of the world is into it, we should be too!

I've got news for you: Some of those countries eat dogs and cats as delicacies. I'll take my culture just fine, thank you.

Plus, we always hear about how wonderful the fans are. You think the Cameron Crazies at Duke are nuts? In Europe, they'll riot after a loss, kill people, and threaten players. Yes, this is really what we need to incorporate into our country, don't you think? "Aaron Boone, you struck out in the ninth and cost us the game. Now you're going to die."

(Well... OK, OK, just kidding. But maybe it would be acceptable in some cases.)

And believe me, I've given soccer a fair shake, I really have. Coached a couple of Solon Rec soccer teams, indoor and outdoor. Worked at a bunch of Capital's home soccer games, men's and women's. And it's all the same to me. They're running...they're kicking...they're trying vainly to get the ball within 20 yards of the goal...and then it's cleared out to the other side. And that's that. For 90 minutes.

And who knows, maybe we'd all care more if America actually had a decent team. I watched the second half of the match against Ghana, hoping we would score a couple goals. It didn't happen. After the loss, I went back to watching infomercials on the Golf Channel like I'd been doing before.

I don't know what it will take to get America interested in soccer. It seems that for every person who loved the World Cup, you'll find three or four who simply don't care. It might take something like the 1980 "Miracle of Ice", when a young group of American hockey players did the impossible and won the Gold Medal, captivating the country and making hockey relevant...

Wait, who won the Stanley Cup this year?

2006-07-08T22:44:00.000-04:00

Outside at 9 a.m. today coaching Rec baseball, I noticed the early morning sunshine quickly fade to overcast skies. It remained cloudy until about 2:00, when my friend Brian called me.

LeBron agreed to a contract extension with the Cavs.

Wait, that doesn't look quite right. I think it should read more like: LEBRON AGREED TO A CONTRACT EXTENSION WITH THE CAVS!!!

Or perhaps: LEBRON AGREED TO A CONTRACT EXTENSION WITH THE CAVS?!?!?!?

Either way, the clouds quickly parted over Cleveland (well, Solon at least), revealing a bright and beautiful day. I don't think it was a coincidence. If it was, who the heck cares? Need I remind you that LEBRON AGREED TO A CONTRACT EXTENSION WITH THE CAVS!!!

Screw the Indians for right now (they lost 7-4, again failing to capitalize on any momentum from last night's big win). After torturing Cleveland fans for a full week, LeBron verbally committed to remain in the Wine and Gold jersey through 2013.

(I'll pause here to let that sink in. LeBron James. Cleveland Cavaliers. 2013. Take a few deep breaths and exhale. Try to avoid hyperventilating, or gagging on drool.)

His young career has been peppered with question marks about how long he would stay in Cleveland. Many felt it a matter of time before LeBron abandoned C-town for the spoils of New York or LA. Those questions only loomed larger starting last week, when Carmelo Anthony, Chris Bosh, and Dwayne "NBA Finals MVP" Wade all agreed to extensions with their own clubs, while LeBron remained mum. The city of Cleveland held its breath, and if you felt a little extra breeze this afternoon, it was a result of 500,000 northeast Ohioans exhaling simultaneously.

So we can start fitting the team for championship rings now, right? Prepping Euclid Avenue for the big parade? I mean, we've got LeBron.

Brian and I joked about how many titles we'd win with LeBron: five, six, seven. Then reality set in. "I'd be happy with one," I said, my mind drifting towards the euphoric feeling of celebrating a Cleveland championship.

This team still has some issues. Re-signing Drew Gooden, who some nights plays like Charles Barkley, other nights like Gnarls Barkley, is one of them. I think he needs to stay, though, because he's an athletic big man, and those don't come easy. Also, the drafting of Shannon Brown and Daniel Gibson has made the futures of Eric Snow and/or Damon Jones doubtful. And big Z, so steady and consistent during the regular season, looked lost and slow during the postseason - almost a liability. He may be gone shortly as well. And no one knows if Larry Hughes can be the Scottie Pippen to LeBron's Michael Jordan.

Throughout the day, though, when those feelings were nagging me, I turned my focus to the fact that bears repeating once again.

LEBRON AGREED TO A CONTRACT EXTENSION WITH THE CAVS!!!

2006-07-07T22:56:00.000-04:00

C.C. Sabathia threw a three-hit shutout tonight against the Orioles. Travis Hafner hit another grand slam, giving him five - FIVE - grand slams before the All-Star break, a major league record.

And the 9-0 win "improved" the Indians' record to 40-45, bringing them to within 18 games of Central Division leader Detroit.

At least they're a more, umm, respectable, 16 games out of the Wild Card, behind the White Sox.

Where, oh where, did this all go wrong? Remember, this is an Indians team that finished 2005 with a record of 93-69, the sixth-best mark in baseball, and missed the playoffs by just one game. Granted, we knew the departures of Coco Crisp, Kevin Millwood and Bob Howry would hurt, but with a limited payroll (ahem, Mr. Dolan), the team could make do with cheaper alternatives. And a great nucleus - Sabathia, Hafner, Grady Sizemore, Victor Martinez, Jhonny Peralta, etc. - was returning. Certainly this year's squad would, at the very least, remain competitive and perhaps even push over the top and into the postseason.

After the Cavs thrilling postseason run ended, the talk around town switched to the Indians (that, and LeBron not signing his contract yet, which is another column all in its own). I can't remember the Plain Dealer having so many letters from irate fans. It's the miserly, penny-pinching owner Dolan's fault. My grandmother evaluates talent better than GM Mark Shapiro. Eric Wedge is the worst X's-and-O's manager in baseball history. And on and on and on.

Somewhere along the line, though, aren't the players held responsible? Larry Dolan is not booting ground balls at third base (that would be Aaron Boone). Mark Shapiro is not among the league-leaders in strikeouts (that would be Peralta). Eric Wedge is not serving up fastballs down the middle to be jacked out of the ballpark (that would be Guillermo Mota).

I interviewed Wedge when the Indians winter press tour visited Columbus at the end of January. The confidence level was higher than Ricky Williams during the offseason. Everyone - coaches, players, fans - had great expectations for 2006.

“I think the experience [the team] gained last year, and the improvements they’ve made over the last three years, is going to play out well for us this season,” Wedge said at the time. “We need to continue to get better, be more consistent, and do a better job in situations late in ballgames. If we can keep everybody healthy and do those things, I think we’ll be in great shape.”

Experienced? Yes. Injury-free? Relatively so. Consistent? Ummm...

This is an Indians team that beat the Yankees 19-1 one night, then lost the next two games by a combined score of 21-7. This is an Indians team that lost a game against St. Louis by making two errors in the ninth, then followed that by blowing a seven-run eighth inning lead the next game against the Reds. An offense that scores 12 runs one game is silenced the next. A pitching staff works wonders one night gets worked over like a slow-pitch softball pitcher the next. Not a whole lot of consistency there, but that falls on the players who, simply put, are not getting the job done.

Last season, a major concern was the 22-36 record in one-run games. No big deal, according to Wedge. “I look at losing 36 one-run games as a positive. It’s sure better than losing 36 five-run games.”

Through July 7, the 2006 Indians have managed a 7-11 record in one-run games and have lost their last seven one-run ballgames. While that's a little disturbing, so too is the fact that few games are even coming down to the wire. The Indians are blowing teams out or getting blown out.

I think that also falls on the players. They're professional athletes, and they have a job; win ballgames. It's been feast or famine for the Tribe all year, and right now you'd think they be a little more hungry.

How to resolve this lack of hunger for next year (because let's face it, this team is deader than a funeral home)? Maybe the guys should follow C.C. through the buffet line.

2006-06-29T23:13:00.000-04:00

NOTE: This column originally ran in Capital University's student paper "The Chimes" several days after the Super Bowl and is being re-published here.

How fitting that the Rolling Stones performed at halftime of Super Bowl XL. Much like Mick Jagger, I didn’t get any satisfaction out of the game, either.

The match-up between Pittsburgh and Seattle interested me about as much as reading Shakespeare, and the only Bard I’m a fan of is former Indians catcher Josh Bard.

In fact, I almost felt like a 50-year old woman, who only tolerated the football game to watch the Super Bowl commercials. Yes, it was that bad for me.

So why did I feel so disappointed and disenchanted about the biggest sporting event in America? Allow me to count the reasons:

1. I am a Cleveland native and a die-hard Cleveland sports fan. Seeing the Steelers play in, and win, the Super Bowl, just months after the hated White Sox won the World Series, kills me a little bit on the inside every day.

2. The NFL schedules an off-week between the league championships and the Super Bowl to build up the hype. This results in 137 different SportsCenter segments on Jerome Bettis growing up 4.726 miles away from Detroit, as well as the overkill on "Last stop for the Bus" puns.

3. During the game (which I had no idea that ABC was televising until an hour before kickoff) we were treated to lovely statistics such as "Referee Bill Leavy has overturned 23 percent of replay challenges, the lowest rate in the league." Thanks, guys. Did ABC run out of Steelers highlights to run during the game?

Speaking of ABC, it seemed like Al Michaels really mailed in his performance. He sounded as thrilled announcing this game as I did watching it, though I do give him credit for shameless self-promotion, comparing the pro-Pittsburgh crowd to the 1980 U.S. hockey team’s home advantage. Sorry, Al, it would have taken a larger miracle than that to make this game interesting. As for John Madden, well, he just acted like John Madden.

As my friend Chris pointed out, watching Super Bowl XL had the same feel as a Monday Night Football game, and not just because ABC televised it. Over the past few years, MNF has been plagued by bad match-ups (we’ve been treated to such gems as Browns-Dolphins last year and Packers-Ravens this year). In essence, this was the final MNF broadcast (ESPN will carry MNF next year), and once again fans were treated with a stinker.

Hey, don’t get me wrong. I love football and I love the NFL; this season, and Super Bowl in particular, just didn’t do it for me. I’m glad the city of Seattle finally got to experience a championship atmosphere, even if it came before the Browns. For Pittsburgh, well, let’s just say I’m less than thrilled with their victory, and I will forever refer to that city by their moniker which starts with an "S" and rhymes with "Chittsburgh."

But that’s sports. And, as the Rolling Stones say, you can’t always get what you want. Hopefully next year I’ll get what I need – a Cleveland championship.

2006-06-29T22:20:00.000-04:00

I work at a sports facility in Twinsburg, and this week we've hosted a basketball camp. During a break today I heard some of the campers playing trivia, and one question was: "Who did the Cavs pick in the first round last night?"

While my first impulse was to shout out "Shannon Brown, guard, Michigan State!" (and my second to ask him "What the hell kind of trivia question is that?"), I kept my mouth shut. But soon I got to thinking. Five years from now, who will remember the 25th pick in the 2006 NBA Draft?

In the weeks and months leading up to a draft in any sport (well, except hockey, soccer and the WNBA, because no one really cares about those "sports"), all we hear about are rants and raves about so-and-so. He runs a 4.3 40. His fastball tops out at 96 mph. He's got a killer crossover dribble. The prognosticators fill out their "mock drafts" and the nation's top sports journalists debate on ESPN on what each team needs. But five years from now, who is the top player?

It would be great if there was a LeBron James in every draft. A player who you know is the real deal. But for every LeBron James, there's a Tim Couch. A Courtney Brown. Guys who you think, think, have all the "tools" to be a franchise player. But be it injuries, bad luck, or the fact that they just aren't that good, and BOOM! Tens of millions of dollars, wasted. Fans, still waiting for next year.

But there's a difference between James, Couch, Courtney Brown and now Shannon Brown. The first three were top overall picks. Picks you can't afford to waste on guys who can't or won't cut it, because you know what? Your team is already terrible, that's why you have the first pick. But what's the pressure on Shannon Brown? Twenty-plus teams passed on him or felt that better players were available. So what if he breaks his leg in the preseason? He wasn't the top pick.

All that being said, I liked what the Cavs did - almost. By drafting Brown and Daniel Gibson, they addressed the team's biggest deficiency: backcourt scoring. These guys put up good numbers in college (Brown = 17.2 ppg, Gibson = 13.4 ppg). They both played for good programs in tough conferences. I do have one problem with our draft, though, a problem that cost me almost a half hour of sleep last night.

With the 55th pick, which occurred at roughly 11:45 p.m., the Cavs selected Ejike Ugboaja, a 6'-9" forward from Nigeria. Huh? Who? According to his draft profile on NBA.com, Ugboaja is a "raw athlete who currently specializes in rebounding and defense, but is developing on the offensive end of the floor". Who, exactly, is he rebounding and defending against in Nigeria?

I know what you're saying. "Scott, who cares? It was the fifth last pick." Well, I do care. Every single pick counts, because you never know who you'll find later in a draft. For example, Jim Thome was picked in the 13th round. Remember Carlos Boozer, a second-rounder just a few years ago? Why not draft, say, Terence Dials, an Ohio native who played at OSU and won the Big Ten Player of the Year award. I'll go out on a limb and say Dials is more ready to help LeBron than Ejike Ugboaja, who averaged 5 ppg in the Nigeria Premier League last year.

Oh well. After all, these drafts are just big crapshoots. Maybe in five years, the trivia question that future basketball campers ask will be: "When did 2010 NBA MVP Ejike Ugboaja get drafted?"

2006-06-26T22:29:00.000-04:00

By now, every man, woman and child is well aware of the curses that surrounded the Boston Red Sox ("Bambino") and the Chicago Cubs ("Billy Goat"), as well as the dearth of championships for the Chicago White Sox and Cleveland Indians. Many, though, seemed unaware of yet another tragic curse: that of myself, Scott Miles, attending Cleveland sporting events.

While both Sox teams have done their part, winning the past two World Series titles, the Cubs, the Indians and myself seemed destined towards incessant agony. The Cubs have not won a title since 1908 - 1908!!! - and the Indians are now staring at their 58th straight season without glory. As for me, well, I'd gone roughly four years (25-30 games) without attending an Indians victory, and I'd seen the Cavs win just once - last year, needing an improbable 15+ point fourth quarter rally to beat the Suns - in that same time frame.

(Note: I've only been to one Browns game - go figure, they lost to the Jets last season - since the team returned in 1999, so I won't necessarily count that.)

The Scott Miles Curse quickly turned into a legend among my friends and family. Many begged me to stay away, permanently, from Jacobs Field and Gund Arena/"The Q". Many claimed to be good luck charms, requesting to go to games with me, believing they could break the streak. And the losses kept piling up.

Easily the lowest point occurred near the end of last summer, when the lowly Tampa Bay Devil Rays came to Cleveland. The Indians were playing better than just about any other team in the majors, so it appeared as good an opportunity as ever to see a win.

We went to the games on Friday and Sunday. The Devil Rays swept the three-game series. My morale was lower than both the Stanley Cup Finals ratings and Bush's approval percentage.

This past Saturday, my friends Sean and Jess came to visit me from Columbus. With them decked out in Reds garb, we went to the Jake for interleague play between the Tribe and the Reds. The night before, my dad joked about calling Vegas and putting money on Cincinnati. I love my family.

Sitting in the bleachers (section 181, row R, seats 28-30), I just wanted to enjoy the day, catch up with my friends, and see a good ballgame. The Indians were, and still are, mired in fourth place in the division and the Reds have played surprisingly well this season, so I had low expectations for a Cleveland victory.

But then Todd Hollandsworth, who only has about seven more hits than I do during this major league season, blasted a two-run homer. Then Victor Martinez added a sac fly, and Grady Sizemore hit a solo shot in the seventh to give Cleveland a 4-0 lead. And Paul Byrd benefited repeatedly from "at'em" balls - the Reds hit the ball hard, but right "at'em".

Still, I'd seen the Indians blow late leads too many times to feel comfortable. It could have been 20-0 and I wouldn't have felt safe. Yet the outs kept coming, and suddenly I was standing and cheering Bob Wickman on with two outs in the ninth, and there's a fly ball to Hollandsworth, and he's running under it, and I think he's caught it but I can't see with all the people in front of me, and the Jake is going nuts and I see the Indians celebrating their victory on the pitcher's mound.
I'll never forget June 24th, 2006. I'll never forget sitting in Section 181, Row R, seat 28. I'll never forget all the drunk Reds fans sitting behind us. And even if the Indians never lose another game I attend, I will never forget the Scott Miles Curse.