11:08 AM: I love the smell of napalm in the morning (i.e. an OTB full of gambling degenerates who haven’t bathed in weeks).
11:14 AM: The track looks like a quagmire. Monmouth Park spent $50M in renovations for the Breeders' Cup, and now it has rained for 96 straight hours leading up to the races. Attendance & wagering will be down fo’ shore. This is what horse racing gets for trying to “branch out” – hosting a marquee event in New Jersey.
11:39 AM: One race into the proceedings and I’m down $25. BUT my Pick Three is still alive. Whoever called “hope” a “grand essential” in life was onto something, even if they didn’t intend it in the context of: “I’m gonna get really wasted (as opposed to pretty wasted) if I win this Pick Three.”
11:50 AM: Note to self: "speed looks like it will hold up in the mud." Follow-on thought: "I don't wanna work, I just wanna bang on my drum all day."
12:16 PM: Lost the second race. The aforementioned Pick Three is now muerto as well. It's time for a Bud Heavy.
12:32 PM: The bar across the street from the OTB doesn’t serve Budweiser products. I’m drinking a Spiced-Pumpkin-Latte (Octoberfest) Sam Adams instead: hardly an ideal trade off. Tomorrow, I’ll be retaining Steven Colbert to help me wage a PR assault on this un-American watering hole (Joe’s on Weed St.).
12:58 PM: We have a winning ticket. Honey Ryder was second in the Filly/Mare Turf. Me and my boy Jim had $20 on her to show. Our winnings, $46.50, won’t allow us to retire. But they will pay for two more adult beverages.
1:17 PM: This just in: the $0.10 superfecta is the greatest invention since microwave popcorn. The only downside to the $0.10 super is the focus that’s required to read off a wheel at the betting window. It’s like doing an algebra equation, except without the jingles which help you remember how to factor.
1:40 PM: Midnight Lute just made a redonkulous last-to-first move to win the BC Sprint. The other horses looked like they were tied to a post. The Lute won the Forego at Saratoga this summer in similar fashion -- a legitimate superstar in the making. We’ll still be talking about this colt's performance at day’s end.
1:44 PM: Just heard on the broadcast that Midnight Lute is named after Arizona Basketball coach Lute Olsen, who apparently stole a recruit from Tark's Running Rebels at the last hour. Now that is a great anecdote to the proceedings (and a great name for a horse).
1:58 PM: Bumped into a smoking brunette in line betting. This never happens. On a normal day the OTB is home to exactly the same number of attractive females as Augusta National: zero.
Speaking of said female, I think she thinks I’m staring at her. That’s probably because I am. Amidst my staring I’m also experiencing a sensation of bewilderment. It’s like the feeling I had the first time I saw Craig “Ironhead” Heyward get zestfully clean, a commercial which left me baffled and immobile for a solid five minutes.
2:04 PM: Still perspiring after the run-in with the brunette, but I’m regaining feeling in my toes. Granted, if I encounter another OTB vixen I’ll probably be in a coma tomorrow. If that happens, tell my doctors to replay Sunday Silence’s BC Classic over and over near my bedside. If that won’t wake me up, nothing will.
2:28 PM: I had seven different horses to beat Excellent Art (who ran second as I expected) in the Mile Turf, but Kip Deville, who won, wasn’t one of my seven. The Gods are angry with me today. Time to pound another cold one and ponder my next move.
2:55 PM: Starting to get stoked for the Classic even though we’re 100 minutes from post. Five excellent horses have a legitimate shot at the winner’s share of $5M bones. The only bummer is that last year’s champion, Invasor, had to be retired earlier this year. This is doubly unfortunate because Kenny Mayne would unleash a killer Cheech Marin “Eeeeen-vaaa-Sooore” every time the horse took to the track. If Invasor had stayed healthy, this would have been a Classic for the ages.
3:11 PM: Still raining at Monmouth, but it’s getting a little sunnier at the OTB. Had the exacta in the Distaff with Ginger Punch over Hystericalady (who ran a hell of a race from the twelve hole). Can’t mess with my formula for success: I had a beer before the last race, better grab another one before this one.
3:31 PM: I just saw a guy in line betting that looked exactly like Officer Vince Romano from T.J. Hooker. Potentially famous people + hotties at the OTB…this day officially = bizarro world. I’d best call Frodo and make sure the one true ring is in safe keeping.
3:55 PM: English Channel romped the field in the $3M Turf. My horse, Grand Couturier, was so far behind the leaders going into the far turn I had to call OnStar and check on his whereabouts. The colt somehow made up enough ground to finish 5th, but I’m still pissed at the jockey (unlike in the movie SeaBiscuit, if your horse isn’t within 100 yards of the pack, he’s not hitting the board).
3:56 PM: I’m on hold with the Better Business Bureau. I didn’t know who else to call. I figure they can log a “my jockey was an imbecile and owes me money” complaint.
4:11 PM: My boy Jim just made the switch from vodka lemonades to beer; the day is officially approaching Ludicrous Speed.
4:27 PM: The horses are on the track for the Classic, and the smell of excitement is palpable. And I mean that in literal terms: the OTB stinks more than usual.
4:33 PM: Two minutes to post and the sun is shining at Monmouth for the first time in a fortnight; this is the sport of kings.
4:43 PM: Curlin won the Classic in awesome fashion. He also ran an otherworldly time over a very sloppy track (just over two minutes for 1 ¼ miles). What a performance! All the more enjoyable because Jim and I had a $4 exacta with Curlin over Hard Spun (payout $141). Finished the day close to even, minus the cost of six brews.
4:44 PM: Already bummed out. The Classic may have been Curlin’s last race. Decent chance he’ll retire to stud immediately (paid to nail fillies all day). The owners for Street Sense and Hard Spun already announced their colts are headed to the barn. Not great for the sport. In my opinion, not fair to these unbelievable colts/athletes either.
Staying with this point, if you were Curlin would you want to sit in a barn and lay pipe from here to eternity? Don’t you think he deserves more than a never-ending line of sexed up fillies waiting to ante $75K (or more) for a ride in his hay? Plus, in all likelihood Curlin would be better on the track next year as a 4 year-old.
I'd better call PETA and see if they’ll help me organize a protest, with the animal’s best interests in mind.
4:58 PM: Another Breeder’s Cup has come and gone. Thankfully, next year the festivities are at Santa Anita: a welcome SoCal alternative to the Noah’s Ark that was New Jersey. I’ll meet any takers in the infield twelve months from now in Arcadia.
4:59 PM: In the interim, it’s only six months until the first Saturday in May: talk Derby to me!
Editor's Note: I had every intention of posting the second half of my Barack piece this week. However, I couldn't resist the opportunity to do a write-up on Breeders' Cup day. This scenario offers the added bonus of giving me more time to polish Part II on the good Senator from Illinois. You can expect it next week.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
If I Were Barack Obama: Part I
In the spring of 2003 a partner from the law firm of Mayer Brown Rowe & Maw invited me to a breakfast with a State Senator from the southside of Chicago who was running for the United States Senate. The candidate’s name was Barack Obama.
I knew of Barack through my work in the entrepreneurial community which required collaboration with elected officials and the public sector. In 2003 Barack’s name was already well regarded, and many insiders thought his reach would someday extend beyond Illinois.
But to win the 2004 Senatorial race Barack would have to defeat the city of Chicago machine in the form of Illinois’ Comptroller, Dan Hynes, and a former pharmaceutical exec with millions to throw at the race in Blair Hull. And that was just the primary.
For a State Senator who was 0-for-1 in federal elections, having previously lost a U.S. Congressional race, this was a heck of a place to throw his hat back in the ring.
But when I walked into the offices at Mayer Brown on that chilly, Chicago morning the particulars of the Senatorial race were unknown to me. On that day I knew of Barack as a democratic candidate in a city overflowing with democratic candidates. To his absolute credit, sixty minutes later I walked out of Mayer Brown’s offices determined to help his campaign.
I wasn’t alone.
Barack is Clintonesque (the y-chromosome Clinton) is his magnetism. His tone is authoritative yet inviting. His message crisp and believable. And most importantly, you feel as if you are a part of his machinations; you feel like joining his campaign.
This is a key point because a successful campaign requires a finely-tuned assembly line to support the rigors of the campaign trail. Dissimilar to manufacturing, the marvel of the political assembly line isn’t the reduced time that’s required to churn out a replicated product; it’s the shared sense of purpose which exists amongst the workers (volunteers) who make the line go.
When the political assembly line is at its best, volunteers and workers use absolutist terms of essentialness. If love is blind, campaign workers are often deaf -- hearing no evil in relation to the cause and the candidate.
In 2003 and 2004 Barack Obama organized a network of volunteers that would have made Henry Ford proud. A statewide band of brothers (and sisters) came to his side, manning the production line. On March 1st, 2004, I did my part.
Earlier that winter I convinced a handful of friends to help me host a fundraiser for Obama in downtown Chicago; March 1st was our designated night with our candidate. The night of the fundraiser 175 attendees crammed into the back of Brehon’s Pub to listen to the eloquent State Senator speak from atop a makeshift crate. His message was similar to the one that a national audience would hear four months later at the DNC convention in Boston.
He spoke to his background and upbringing, a skinny kid from the southside of Chicago committed to a way forward. He spoke of an America which was too often divided into red states and blue states. Despite the political divisions, he foresaw limitless possibility. He wreaked of hope.
Listening to Barack I could sense that he was winning over the crowd. It’s hard not to be impressed in his presence. Most leftist listeners will want to come inside the tent.
When all was said and done, I was glad to have organized the assemblage. I was proud to have played a part.
Two weeks later Barack won the Senatorial primary in a landslide victory that turned more than a few heads. Dan Hynes and the Chicago machine earned 23% of the statewide vote; the multimillionaire Blair Hull garnered 11%; and the son of a Kenyan and a Kansan who became a civil rights attorney on the southside of Chicago won a staggering 54% of the vote.
The skinny kid's meteoric ascent had officially begun.
Fast forward three years and the Senator is now a bona fide rock star. In 2006 he announced that he was seeking the nation’s highest office. I’m guessing his rationale for doing so was very similar to another political prodigy in our country’s history:
Phil Graham (publisher & co-owner of the Washington Post speaking to Senator John F. Kennedy): "You are good. You are going to be President someday. But right now you're too young."
Kennedy: "Well, Phil, I'm running and this is why. First, I think I'm as qualified as anyone in the field with the exception of Lyndon Johnson. Second, if I don't run whoever wins will be there for eight years and will influence who his successor will be. And third, if I don't run I'll have to stay in the Senate for at least eight more years. As a potential candidate in the Senate, I'll have to vote politically and then I'll end up a mediocre Senator and a lousy candidate."
It’s hard to argue with that line of logic.
But unfortunately Barack’s Presidential bid has flattened out a bit in 2007. His experience has come into constant question and his polling numbers have been losing ground to the Billary locomotive.
In truth, I’m not shocked. Before the 2004 Senatorial primary I watched Gery Chico, formerly the President of the Chicago Public Schools, give Barack a solid thumping in a debate. A heated back and forth exchange doesn’t play to his strengths; it's more Hillary's bailiwick.
Barack is at his best in either a small setting, where his magnetism can take hold, or on a grand stage, where his oratory skills and natural presence are on display. With all the town meetings and personal appearances being made in Iowa, the caucuses should prove to be a good fit, but that remains to be seen.
Regardless, if I were Barack I wouldn’t wait around to see. I would do something a little radical, ensuring that I got more than five seconds of air time on the news cycles. I would play to my strengths and make the stage as big as possible, even if it meant bringing the people to him.
Barack could create a week long stage-tour, giving speeches to large crowds around the country (I would advocate for depoliticized pulpits). He could call it: “A Week with America.” He could set everything else aside and tell every voter and every press outlet that after this week, every American will have enough information to decide on his candidacy. I would opt for themed, succinct speeches: short enough that every American could watch his daily address with their coffee on YouTube.
I would go to New York and marvel at the bustling, international city which screams: "open for business, 24 hours a day." I would laud the city's enterprises and its unyielding entrepreneurial spirit. A city which is really a congregation of a thousand neighborhoods, whose residents live on in tribute to their fallen brethren, refusing to be deterred by the rubble, committed to rebuilding again.
I would go to a city in the southeast, home to a large percentage of our country’s servicemen, and speak to national defense. I would lay out a plan for protecting America in a world of terrorism and nuclear capability. I would hammer home a message to mothers across our nation: this election isn't merely about the Presidency, it's also about being Commander in Chief. I would reiterate that he is prepared to protect and defend -- under every imaginable circumstance -- that he will keep our children safe.
I would come to Chicago and talk about faith, family, and sense of purpose – purpose being life’s ultimate denominator and home being where it begins. I would speak to his days as a political organizer and then a State Senator, working time and time again with both sides of the aisle. I would use the Chicago stage and speak to the politics of Washington, interweaving his message on the red and blue states, with sights on a more perfect union. I would commit to reestablishing relations with allies around the world while simultaneously supporting humanitarian efforts, starting with Darfur.
I would head west and make a stopover in Dubuque, or some city along the Mississippi, to talk about the importance of agriculture and America’s role as farmer to the world. I would outwardly emphasize support for unionized labor, reiterating that we can and must do better in wages & healthcare. I would refer to the heartland and the middle class as the backbone of our nation, reminding voters that his candidacy is aimed directly at them.
I would go to California and commend the rampant spread of innovation. I would praise our nation's technological advancements and speak to life-altering breakthroughs in medicine, which will improve our duration and quality of life. I would endorse our role as the leader of a global economy, and simultaneously address how we can keep jobs at home.
And I would pick a less predictable stopover in Anytown, USA. I would go there to remind people that our nation isn’t "one size fits all." That we must create laws and governmental solutions which meet the needs and the diversity of our people. I would remind the audience that our government’s foremost responsibility is to look out for every one of its citizens, regardless of race and creed. Regardless or their state's electoral college votes.
But before any of those stops I would go to New Orleans, where the levees broke. Where the people have been slighted by their government. Where the proposition of America seems less rosy. Where the audacity of hope is audacious indeed.
Next Week, I’ll layout what Barack could say.
I knew of Barack through my work in the entrepreneurial community which required collaboration with elected officials and the public sector. In 2003 Barack’s name was already well regarded, and many insiders thought his reach would someday extend beyond Illinois.
But to win the 2004 Senatorial race Barack would have to defeat the city of Chicago machine in the form of Illinois’ Comptroller, Dan Hynes, and a former pharmaceutical exec with millions to throw at the race in Blair Hull. And that was just the primary.
For a State Senator who was 0-for-1 in federal elections, having previously lost a U.S. Congressional race, this was a heck of a place to throw his hat back in the ring.
But when I walked into the offices at Mayer Brown on that chilly, Chicago morning the particulars of the Senatorial race were unknown to me. On that day I knew of Barack as a democratic candidate in a city overflowing with democratic candidates. To his absolute credit, sixty minutes later I walked out of Mayer Brown’s offices determined to help his campaign.
I wasn’t alone.
Barack is Clintonesque (the y-chromosome Clinton) is his magnetism. His tone is authoritative yet inviting. His message crisp and believable. And most importantly, you feel as if you are a part of his machinations; you feel like joining his campaign.
This is a key point because a successful campaign requires a finely-tuned assembly line to support the rigors of the campaign trail. Dissimilar to manufacturing, the marvel of the political assembly line isn’t the reduced time that’s required to churn out a replicated product; it’s the shared sense of purpose which exists amongst the workers (volunteers) who make the line go.
When the political assembly line is at its best, volunteers and workers use absolutist terms of essentialness. If love is blind, campaign workers are often deaf -- hearing no evil in relation to the cause and the candidate.
In 2003 and 2004 Barack Obama organized a network of volunteers that would have made Henry Ford proud. A statewide band of brothers (and sisters) came to his side, manning the production line. On March 1st, 2004, I did my part.
Earlier that winter I convinced a handful of friends to help me host a fundraiser for Obama in downtown Chicago; March 1st was our designated night with our candidate. The night of the fundraiser 175 attendees crammed into the back of Brehon’s Pub to listen to the eloquent State Senator speak from atop a makeshift crate. His message was similar to the one that a national audience would hear four months later at the DNC convention in Boston.
He spoke to his background and upbringing, a skinny kid from the southside of Chicago committed to a way forward. He spoke of an America which was too often divided into red states and blue states. Despite the political divisions, he foresaw limitless possibility. He wreaked of hope.
Listening to Barack I could sense that he was winning over the crowd. It’s hard not to be impressed in his presence. Most leftist listeners will want to come inside the tent.
When all was said and done, I was glad to have organized the assemblage. I was proud to have played a part.
Two weeks later Barack won the Senatorial primary in a landslide victory that turned more than a few heads. Dan Hynes and the Chicago machine earned 23% of the statewide vote; the multimillionaire Blair Hull garnered 11%; and the son of a Kenyan and a Kansan who became a civil rights attorney on the southside of Chicago won a staggering 54% of the vote.
The skinny kid's meteoric ascent had officially begun.
Fast forward three years and the Senator is now a bona fide rock star. In 2006 he announced that he was seeking the nation’s highest office. I’m guessing his rationale for doing so was very similar to another political prodigy in our country’s history:
Phil Graham (publisher & co-owner of the Washington Post speaking to Senator John F. Kennedy): "You are good. You are going to be President someday. But right now you're too young."
Kennedy: "Well, Phil, I'm running and this is why. First, I think I'm as qualified as anyone in the field with the exception of Lyndon Johnson. Second, if I don't run whoever wins will be there for eight years and will influence who his successor will be. And third, if I don't run I'll have to stay in the Senate for at least eight more years. As a potential candidate in the Senate, I'll have to vote politically and then I'll end up a mediocre Senator and a lousy candidate."
It’s hard to argue with that line of logic.
But unfortunately Barack’s Presidential bid has flattened out a bit in 2007. His experience has come into constant question and his polling numbers have been losing ground to the Billary locomotive.
In truth, I’m not shocked. Before the 2004 Senatorial primary I watched Gery Chico, formerly the President of the Chicago Public Schools, give Barack a solid thumping in a debate. A heated back and forth exchange doesn’t play to his strengths; it's more Hillary's bailiwick.
Barack is at his best in either a small setting, where his magnetism can take hold, or on a grand stage, where his oratory skills and natural presence are on display. With all the town meetings and personal appearances being made in Iowa, the caucuses should prove to be a good fit, but that remains to be seen.
Regardless, if I were Barack I wouldn’t wait around to see. I would do something a little radical, ensuring that I got more than five seconds of air time on the news cycles. I would play to my strengths and make the stage as big as possible, even if it meant bringing the people to him.
Barack could create a week long stage-tour, giving speeches to large crowds around the country (I would advocate for depoliticized pulpits). He could call it: “A Week with America.” He could set everything else aside and tell every voter and every press outlet that after this week, every American will have enough information to decide on his candidacy. I would opt for themed, succinct speeches: short enough that every American could watch his daily address with their coffee on YouTube.
I would go to New York and marvel at the bustling, international city which screams: "open for business, 24 hours a day." I would laud the city's enterprises and its unyielding entrepreneurial spirit. A city which is really a congregation of a thousand neighborhoods, whose residents live on in tribute to their fallen brethren, refusing to be deterred by the rubble, committed to rebuilding again.
I would go to a city in the southeast, home to a large percentage of our country’s servicemen, and speak to national defense. I would lay out a plan for protecting America in a world of terrorism and nuclear capability. I would hammer home a message to mothers across our nation: this election isn't merely about the Presidency, it's also about being Commander in Chief. I would reiterate that he is prepared to protect and defend -- under every imaginable circumstance -- that he will keep our children safe.
I would come to Chicago and talk about faith, family, and sense of purpose – purpose being life’s ultimate denominator and home being where it begins. I would speak to his days as a political organizer and then a State Senator, working time and time again with both sides of the aisle. I would use the Chicago stage and speak to the politics of Washington, interweaving his message on the red and blue states, with sights on a more perfect union. I would commit to reestablishing relations with allies around the world while simultaneously supporting humanitarian efforts, starting with Darfur.
I would head west and make a stopover in Dubuque, or some city along the Mississippi, to talk about the importance of agriculture and America’s role as farmer to the world. I would outwardly emphasize support for unionized labor, reiterating that we can and must do better in wages & healthcare. I would refer to the heartland and the middle class as the backbone of our nation, reminding voters that his candidacy is aimed directly at them.
I would go to California and commend the rampant spread of innovation. I would praise our nation's technological advancements and speak to life-altering breakthroughs in medicine, which will improve our duration and quality of life. I would endorse our role as the leader of a global economy, and simultaneously address how we can keep jobs at home.
And I would pick a less predictable stopover in Anytown, USA. I would go there to remind people that our nation isn’t "one size fits all." That we must create laws and governmental solutions which meet the needs and the diversity of our people. I would remind the audience that our government’s foremost responsibility is to look out for every one of its citizens, regardless of race and creed. Regardless or their state's electoral college votes.
But before any of those stops I would go to New Orleans, where the levees broke. Where the people have been slighted by their government. Where the proposition of America seems less rosy. Where the audacity of hope is audacious indeed.
Next Week, I’ll layout what Barack could say.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
The Monthly Stew
20) “I Am America (And So Can You!)”
Comedy Central’s political “analyst” and talk-show host, Stephen Colbert, is officially a flip-flopper. His previous stance, “books are for pantywaists,” has been thrown aside in favor of expanding his own waist/wallet size. His first book, which he reassures us is full of pictures, covers a broad range of topics from “Higher Education” to “Sex & Dating.” On the latter, Colbert says to skip Match.com in favor of the family photo album.
Equally humorous is Colbert’s fill-in for NY Times columnist Maureen Dowd in her weekly op-ed column. Dowd recently taunted Colbert, saying he should try being an op-ed columnist. A bit of strategery which tells us that Dowd missed out on playground lesson numero uno: don’t bully a bully. Predictably, Colbert raced over to the bastion of the liberal-media, preparing a humorous rant for readers. Colbert’s brief piece hits on some of his favorite topics, from Frank Rich to emoticons to the Bible. It's imperative reading for fans of the show.
19) Tip of the Hat, Wag of the Finger
Staying with a Colbert theme for another numeral, a tip of the hat this month to the Chowder’s previously featured superb tri-athlete, Todd Smith. Todd completed his second Ironman in seven weeks’ time on the big island of Kona last weekend in the Ironman World Championships. Todd assures me that the NBC production in November will feature some incredible, and incredibly touching, stories. Set your Tivo in advance.
NBC earns brownie points for their Ironman coverage, but they’re also receiving a wag of the finger for the time slot they selected for #11 on this list. Their selection makes zero sense to me. Zero.
18) What Can Brown Do For You
Is the guy in the UPS commercial really writing at that dry erase board, or is there behind the scenes editing going on? If that’s him writing, UPS should get into the penmanship business. That guy’s hand-writing is redonkulous. Love those commercials.
17) Black Monday Turns 20
20 years ago, on October 19th 1987, the U.S. stock market lost over 22% of its value in one day. The plunge also caused a domino effect in markets worldwide; by the end of October, stock markets in Honk Kong, Australia, in Spain had lost 30% of their value. To this day, people still speculate about the cause of the fall but program trading, overvaluation, illiquidity, and market psychology are all frequently mentioned as contributors.
Amidst our current bull market, Black Monday should serve as a reminder that big corrections do happen -- and that the handwriting isn’t necessarily on the wall.
16) Someecards
The world of eCards/eNotices has been stuck in neutral. Evite’s prominence, despite their blah user templates, is glaring evidentiary proof. But now, thanks to Someecards, consumers have a new friend in the electronic greeting business.
The site is full of witty, adult messages that could easily double as quotes from Office Space. For example: “I need a billing code for not doing shit.” Forthright, personal messages are also available for sending, such as: “I hope your party doesn’t fucking suck.” This site is going to explode before long, so impress your friends before the masses discover its brilliance.
15) Pete Hammond
You ever notice how lousy movies always garner a one-word quote in advertisements, like “mesmerizing” or “electrifying.” And the quotes always come from a not-quite recognizable reviewer. In this realm, I’ve been seeing one-worders from Pete Hammond of Maxim in connection with a lot of box-office busts. Maybe he is the de facto guy to call when you know your movie is gonna suck, but you still a need a “riveting” for the print ads.
14) "The World to Come"
Dora Horn’s magnificent novel – could be the reading fixture on the work-bound train in six months. The narrative centers around a man who sees a Chagall and then becomes (obsessively) convinced it used to belong to his family. He is spurred to action, finding love and his scattered self along the way.
Entertainment Weekly’s review is right on the money: “nothing short of amazing.”
13) Young Guns with a Baton
The world of classical music has been taken over by a new generation of maestros – some are even old enough to drink.
The Los Angeles Philharmonic got the youth party started fifteen years ago when they hired 34 year-old Finnish conductor, Esa-Pekka Solonen as principal music conductor. In 2000 Cincinnati grabbed 39 year-old sensation Paavo Jarvi (now headed to Paris in 2010). Los Angeles, wanting to ensure its supremacy on the “how low can you go” totem pole, reanted this year: naming the 26- year-old Venezuelan wunderkind, Gustavo Dudamel, as principal conductor for the 2009 season. And finally, the conservatively schooled New York Philharmonic is centering its future on youthful horizons: penciling in 40 year-old Alan Gilbert as its next musical conductor starting in 2009.
The only major symphony with a full-time vacancy at present? The Chicago Symphony Orchestra (CSO), who has been slow to find a replacement for Daniel Barenboim. Hopefully the CSO will follow the lead of their peers, favoring a return to grass yutes.
12) The Impenetrable French Baguette
I get sucker punched sometimes when ordering food. Especially at Panera. The cashier will run down the options for my side (chips, apple, bread, or French baguette), and then my mind will say, “nice, a French baguette.” But when I sit down and try to break off a piece of my baguette, it’s normally tougher than a moon rock. Yesterday I almost handed my baguette to my lunch mate, as if it were a lid on a jar I couldn’t twist open.
In actuality, I don’t think this phenomenon is limited to me or Panera -- I think the dough in the French baguette is somehow creating a force field to ward off eaters (and X-wing fighters). I'm working on verification from francophiles; I'll get back to you.
11) Friday Night Lights
This is the best show on television. Next numeral.
10) The Ole Noggin to the Rescue
According to researchers at Columbia University Medical Center, “the skeleton is actually an endocrine organ, producing hormones that act outside of bone.” Say what?
Translation: research suggests that a hormone in the skeleton may influence how the body handles sugar. A recent NYT article goes on to reference: “mounting evidence that signals from the immune system, the brain and the gut play critical roles in controlling glucose and lipid metabolism. (relevant to Type 2 diabetes).”
In other words, expect a plethora of new research on diabetes, and how we might go about attacking it, in the coming years.
9) Henry Ford: Pacifist? Bigot?
Most of us associate Henry Ford with the assembly line, the Model T, and his philanthropy. But Ford didn't stop there.
Ford organized and paid for a peace ship to Europe in 1915, in the midst of World War I, for himself and about 170 other prominent Americans with hopes of convincing European leaders to stop the war. The peace ship was largely ridiculed, and Ford returned to the mainland not longer after he set foot in Europe. It nonetheless speaks to Ford’s active role in promoting pacifism.
Then, in 1918, Ford purchased an obscure weekly newspaper, The Dearborn Independent. The Independent ran from 1920 until 1927, publishing "Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion.” The American Jewish Historical Society describes the ideas in the magazine as "anti-immigrant, anti-labor, anti-liquor, and anti-Semitic". In 1921 the New York World published an interview with Ford, in which he said: "The only statement I care to make about the Protocols is that they fit in with what is going on."
People: now and then, still tough to figure.
8) Trained Seals
Caught a little bit of the Republican debate last week. I side with Newt Gingrich in believing that asking everyone the same question “leaves each candidate answering like a trained seal.” Leave it to my boy Newt to submarine the would-be competition from the sidelines (fyi, while my sarcasm runs thicker than molasses at times, my affinity for Newt is sincere).
My main takeaway from the debate: Romney is head and shoulders the class of this group. And frankly, if he weren’t treading farther and farther to the right on social issues, I would feel good about our future with him, Hillary, or Barack in office. As is, I’m still leaning left.
7) Spoiling a Good Read
These five words will sour me on any book I haven’t read: “now a major, motion picture.” When I see a book cover with an actionized movie scene, the novel is instantly dead to me.
This fall’s cinema lineup is a smorgasbord of adaptations, from "The Kite Runner" to "Atonement" to "Into the Wild." Thankfullly, I’ve already read the first two and the latter is of less interest. I can’t say the same for Cormac McCarthy’s, “No Country for Old Men.” But alas, my allotted time is quickly drawing to a close: the film is due out in November. Tommy Lee Jones, Javier Brodem, Josh Brolin, and Woddy Harrelson have leading roles.
6) Pretty in Pink
A big kudos to whoever conceived the idea for making October breast cancer awareness month; Chicago’s tallest buildings are currently lit in pink to support the cause. As I sit here thinking about Chicago’s Molly Ringwold skyline, I’m also reminded of Margaret Mead’s words: “never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
5) FX
I’m giving FX a “strong” to “very strong” rating for some of their in-house programming. Nip Tuck, though too explicit for me at times, is certainly engaging (and their preview commercials kick ass). Glenn Close is superb as lawyer Patty Hughes on Damages. Finally, my personal favorite: It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
The storylines on It’s Always are so far-fetched, they’re almost believable. And Danny Devito has been a great addition to the ensemble, rounding out their imbecilic crew to perfection.
I’m really starting to dig this show.
4) The Warren Zevon Quote of the Month
“Send lawyers, guns, and money, the shit has hit the fan.”
3) It’s at the Cleaners
There are six dry cleaners within three blocks of my apartment – a seemingly staggering number. For five years I have waited for one or more of these neighboring competitors to close up shop. Not a chance; they've all still got the pedal to the starch.
Knowing that 85% of all new businesses fail in the first two years, I now believe that which I would have previously shunned in totality: the neighborhood could probably handle a 7th dry cleaner. The only questions that remains: who’s got the cajones to sell a small business lender on being the 7th entrant on the block?
To the winners, go the spoils.
2) The Breeder’s Cup - October 27th
If you’re a horse racing fan, the first Saturday in May (the Kentucky Derby) is the year’s undisputed summit. But if you’re looking for an all-day thoroughbred affair, you’d better circle Breeder’s Cup Saturday as well. The day features eight races at various distances on the dirt and the turf, with purses starting at $2M and climbing to $5M for the Classic.
This year’s Classic field features a slew of three year-olds from the Derby: Curlin’, Any Given Saturday, Tiago, Hard Spun, and Street Sense. To win they’ll have to beat an elder, four year-old Lawyer Ron, who was spectacular at Saratoga this summer.
A favorite day in my year, and yes, I will spend it inside an ultra-smoky OTB spitting out trifecta wheels with other gambling degenerates. Frankly, I can't fathom a better way to spend a day.
1) 26.2
This Sunday I’ll join 6,000 other yahoos in Columbus, OH, as we run Pheidippides’ historic distance from Marathon to Athens. He brought news of a Greek victory over the Persians; we'll bring news that we’re morons willing to run 26.2 miles for fun.
Inevitably, about twenty miles into the race, I’ll be cursing the decision. If things get really ugly, I’ll probably still be cursing the race in these pages next week. Stay tuned.
Comedy Central’s political “analyst” and talk-show host, Stephen Colbert, is officially a flip-flopper. His previous stance, “books are for pantywaists,” has been thrown aside in favor of expanding his own waist/wallet size. His first book, which he reassures us is full of pictures, covers a broad range of topics from “Higher Education” to “Sex & Dating.” On the latter, Colbert says to skip Match.com in favor of the family photo album.
Equally humorous is Colbert’s fill-in for NY Times columnist Maureen Dowd in her weekly op-ed column. Dowd recently taunted Colbert, saying he should try being an op-ed columnist. A bit of strategery which tells us that Dowd missed out on playground lesson numero uno: don’t bully a bully. Predictably, Colbert raced over to the bastion of the liberal-media, preparing a humorous rant for readers. Colbert’s brief piece hits on some of his favorite topics, from Frank Rich to emoticons to the Bible. It's imperative reading for fans of the show.
19) Tip of the Hat, Wag of the Finger
Staying with a Colbert theme for another numeral, a tip of the hat this month to the Chowder’s previously featured superb tri-athlete, Todd Smith. Todd completed his second Ironman in seven weeks’ time on the big island of Kona last weekend in the Ironman World Championships. Todd assures me that the NBC production in November will feature some incredible, and incredibly touching, stories. Set your Tivo in advance.
NBC earns brownie points for their Ironman coverage, but they’re also receiving a wag of the finger for the time slot they selected for #11 on this list. Their selection makes zero sense to me. Zero.
18) What Can Brown Do For You
Is the guy in the UPS commercial really writing at that dry erase board, or is there behind the scenes editing going on? If that’s him writing, UPS should get into the penmanship business. That guy’s hand-writing is redonkulous. Love those commercials.
17) Black Monday Turns 20
20 years ago, on October 19th 1987, the U.S. stock market lost over 22% of its value in one day. The plunge also caused a domino effect in markets worldwide; by the end of October, stock markets in Honk Kong, Australia, in Spain had lost 30% of their value. To this day, people still speculate about the cause of the fall but program trading, overvaluation, illiquidity, and market psychology are all frequently mentioned as contributors.
Amidst our current bull market, Black Monday should serve as a reminder that big corrections do happen -- and that the handwriting isn’t necessarily on the wall.
16) Someecards
The world of eCards/eNotices has been stuck in neutral. Evite’s prominence, despite their blah user templates, is glaring evidentiary proof. But now, thanks to Someecards, consumers have a new friend in the electronic greeting business.
The site is full of witty, adult messages that could easily double as quotes from Office Space. For example: “I need a billing code for not doing shit.” Forthright, personal messages are also available for sending, such as: “I hope your party doesn’t fucking suck.” This site is going to explode before long, so impress your friends before the masses discover its brilliance.
15) Pete Hammond
You ever notice how lousy movies always garner a one-word quote in advertisements, like “mesmerizing” or “electrifying.” And the quotes always come from a not-quite recognizable reviewer. In this realm, I’ve been seeing one-worders from Pete Hammond of Maxim in connection with a lot of box-office busts. Maybe he is the de facto guy to call when you know your movie is gonna suck, but you still a need a “riveting” for the print ads.
14) "The World to Come"
Dora Horn’s magnificent novel – could be the reading fixture on the work-bound train in six months. The narrative centers around a man who sees a Chagall and then becomes (obsessively) convinced it used to belong to his family. He is spurred to action, finding love and his scattered self along the way.
Entertainment Weekly’s review is right on the money: “nothing short of amazing.”
13) Young Guns with a Baton
The world of classical music has been taken over by a new generation of maestros – some are even old enough to drink.
The Los Angeles Philharmonic got the youth party started fifteen years ago when they hired 34 year-old Finnish conductor, Esa-Pekka Solonen as principal music conductor. In 2000 Cincinnati grabbed 39 year-old sensation Paavo Jarvi (now headed to Paris in 2010). Los Angeles, wanting to ensure its supremacy on the “how low can you go” totem pole, reanted this year: naming the 26- year-old Venezuelan wunderkind, Gustavo Dudamel, as principal conductor for the 2009 season. And finally, the conservatively schooled New York Philharmonic is centering its future on youthful horizons: penciling in 40 year-old Alan Gilbert as its next musical conductor starting in 2009.
The only major symphony with a full-time vacancy at present? The Chicago Symphony Orchestra (CSO), who has been slow to find a replacement for Daniel Barenboim. Hopefully the CSO will follow the lead of their peers, favoring a return to grass yutes.
12) The Impenetrable French Baguette
I get sucker punched sometimes when ordering food. Especially at Panera. The cashier will run down the options for my side (chips, apple, bread, or French baguette), and then my mind will say, “nice, a French baguette.” But when I sit down and try to break off a piece of my baguette, it’s normally tougher than a moon rock. Yesterday I almost handed my baguette to my lunch mate, as if it were a lid on a jar I couldn’t twist open.
In actuality, I don’t think this phenomenon is limited to me or Panera -- I think the dough in the French baguette is somehow creating a force field to ward off eaters (and X-wing fighters). I'm working on verification from francophiles; I'll get back to you.
11) Friday Night Lights
This is the best show on television. Next numeral.
10) The Ole Noggin to the Rescue
According to researchers at Columbia University Medical Center, “the skeleton is actually an endocrine organ, producing hormones that act outside of bone.” Say what?
Translation: research suggests that a hormone in the skeleton may influence how the body handles sugar. A recent NYT article goes on to reference: “mounting evidence that signals from the immune system, the brain and the gut play critical roles in controlling glucose and lipid metabolism. (relevant to Type 2 diabetes).”
In other words, expect a plethora of new research on diabetes, and how we might go about attacking it, in the coming years.
9) Henry Ford: Pacifist? Bigot?
Most of us associate Henry Ford with the assembly line, the Model T, and his philanthropy. But Ford didn't stop there.
Ford organized and paid for a peace ship to Europe in 1915, in the midst of World War I, for himself and about 170 other prominent Americans with hopes of convincing European leaders to stop the war. The peace ship was largely ridiculed, and Ford returned to the mainland not longer after he set foot in Europe. It nonetheless speaks to Ford’s active role in promoting pacifism.
Then, in 1918, Ford purchased an obscure weekly newspaper, The Dearborn Independent. The Independent ran from 1920 until 1927, publishing "Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion.” The American Jewish Historical Society describes the ideas in the magazine as "anti-immigrant, anti-labor, anti-liquor, and anti-Semitic". In 1921 the New York World published an interview with Ford, in which he said: "The only statement I care to make about the Protocols is that they fit in with what is going on."
People: now and then, still tough to figure.
8) Trained Seals
Caught a little bit of the Republican debate last week. I side with Newt Gingrich in believing that asking everyone the same question “leaves each candidate answering like a trained seal.” Leave it to my boy Newt to submarine the would-be competition from the sidelines (fyi, while my sarcasm runs thicker than molasses at times, my affinity for Newt is sincere).
My main takeaway from the debate: Romney is head and shoulders the class of this group. And frankly, if he weren’t treading farther and farther to the right on social issues, I would feel good about our future with him, Hillary, or Barack in office. As is, I’m still leaning left.
7) Spoiling a Good Read
These five words will sour me on any book I haven’t read: “now a major, motion picture.” When I see a book cover with an actionized movie scene, the novel is instantly dead to me.
This fall’s cinema lineup is a smorgasbord of adaptations, from "The Kite Runner" to "Atonement" to "Into the Wild." Thankfullly, I’ve already read the first two and the latter is of less interest. I can’t say the same for Cormac McCarthy’s, “No Country for Old Men.” But alas, my allotted time is quickly drawing to a close: the film is due out in November. Tommy Lee Jones, Javier Brodem, Josh Brolin, and Woddy Harrelson have leading roles.
6) Pretty in Pink
A big kudos to whoever conceived the idea for making October breast cancer awareness month; Chicago’s tallest buildings are currently lit in pink to support the cause. As I sit here thinking about Chicago’s Molly Ringwold skyline, I’m also reminded of Margaret Mead’s words: “never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
5) FX
I’m giving FX a “strong” to “very strong” rating for some of their in-house programming. Nip Tuck, though too explicit for me at times, is certainly engaging (and their preview commercials kick ass). Glenn Close is superb as lawyer Patty Hughes on Damages. Finally, my personal favorite: It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
The storylines on It’s Always are so far-fetched, they’re almost believable. And Danny Devito has been a great addition to the ensemble, rounding out their imbecilic crew to perfection.
I’m really starting to dig this show.
4) The Warren Zevon Quote of the Month
“Send lawyers, guns, and money, the shit has hit the fan.”
3) It’s at the Cleaners
There are six dry cleaners within three blocks of my apartment – a seemingly staggering number. For five years I have waited for one or more of these neighboring competitors to close up shop. Not a chance; they've all still got the pedal to the starch.
Knowing that 85% of all new businesses fail in the first two years, I now believe that which I would have previously shunned in totality: the neighborhood could probably handle a 7th dry cleaner. The only questions that remains: who’s got the cajones to sell a small business lender on being the 7th entrant on the block?
To the winners, go the spoils.
2) The Breeder’s Cup - October 27th
If you’re a horse racing fan, the first Saturday in May (the Kentucky Derby) is the year’s undisputed summit. But if you’re looking for an all-day thoroughbred affair, you’d better circle Breeder’s Cup Saturday as well. The day features eight races at various distances on the dirt and the turf, with purses starting at $2M and climbing to $5M for the Classic.
This year’s Classic field features a slew of three year-olds from the Derby: Curlin’, Any Given Saturday, Tiago, Hard Spun, and Street Sense. To win they’ll have to beat an elder, four year-old Lawyer Ron, who was spectacular at Saratoga this summer.
A favorite day in my year, and yes, I will spend it inside an ultra-smoky OTB spitting out trifecta wheels with other gambling degenerates. Frankly, I can't fathom a better way to spend a day.
1) 26.2
This Sunday I’ll join 6,000 other yahoos in Columbus, OH, as we run Pheidippides’ historic distance from Marathon to Athens. He brought news of a Greek victory over the Persians; we'll bring news that we’re morons willing to run 26.2 miles for fun.
Inevitably, about twenty miles into the race, I’ll be cursing the decision. If things get really ugly, I’ll probably still be cursing the race in these pages next week. Stay tuned.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Bold Predictions from the NFL
I’m losing patience with the NFL studio crews on CBS and Fox. Granted, both crews are still preferred to the Collinsworth + Costas “Football Night in America” which feels like I’ve teleported onto a futuristic NBC set which is trying to make football suck ass. That being said, CBS and FOX are also treading on thin ice.
My major gripe is the praise which spews ad nauseam when a host picks an unsurprising winner. For example, Bill Cowher’s lightning bolt last week that the Steelers (at home, - 6) were gonna take it to the Seahawks. During the post-game show I thought Marino was going to throw J.B. an Isotoner glove so that they could simultaneously pat Cowher’s ass. The homage to Cowher lasted a solid ten minutes, by which point I was onto reruns of the World Series of Poker (which inexplicably, never get old).
In their defense, the studio hosts have a lot of air time to fill. But that doesn’t mean they should get off easy; we deserve occasional acuity from these “experts.” Pick the Bills to beat the Cowboys, the 49ers to beat the Colts. This is the NFL: timing and circumstance matter. As is proven every year, any team can lose on any given Sunday. Tell us when and why something unlikely might happen.
Make a bold prediction for crying out loud.
And to show you that I’m not merely an arm-chair quarterback who rants from my (barely visible) soap box, here’s a bold prediction for you: the 2008 Super Bowl will feature BOTH Manning brothers. How about that for a humdinger.
Here’s why it could happen.
Admittedly, Dallas appears to be the class of the NFC, even when considering Romo’s 5 INT performance against Buffalo. That being said, the Giants are capable of beating the Cowboys. Heck, they might not have to face them.
The Giants’ offense has proven capable of scoring in bunches: a huge plus in the playoffs. Plaxico Burress is playing like a 22 year-old. The return of Brandon Jacobs, coupled with the effectiveness of Derrick Ward, means the Giants will have two legitimate running options down the stretch against banged up defenses.
And then there’s Eli.
His slightly-separated shoulder in Week 1 was the best thing that ever happened to him. The following week Eli went from being Peyton’s paltry little brother to a disciple of Rocky IV (the guy who trains in Siberia and fights through the pain). Simultaneously, when Eli’s arm refused to stay in the sling, the New York fans did a 180 and decided to set up shop in his corner (we want Eli on that wall; we need Eli on that wall).
Five years from now, if Eli is still playing well, this minor injury will be remembered as the turning point of his career.
On the defensive side, the Giants’ 4 – 3 must have scored a truck load of ecstasy after Week 3: these guys are suddenly FLYING to the ball. Twelve sacks against the Eagles – flat out ridiculous. Granted, their secondary is questionable (Medicare eligible Sam Madison and rookie Aaron Ross). But nobody said bold predictions were gonna come easily.
The Giants’ record is currently 3 – 2 with three games before their bye: at Atlanta, San Francisco at home, and at Miami. Not exactly the upper echelon of the NFL. Making 6 – 2 a realistic goal going into their Nov. 11 home game against Dallas.
The Cowboys play New England and Minnesota at home, then Philadelphia on the road. Good chance they’ll lose one of those games; wouldn’t be surprised if they lost twice. In other words, the Giants/Cowboys game in November could be for the division lead.
Don’t look now, the Giants could host the Cowboys in the playoffs.
Not sold? Here’s another news flash: the NFC blows. You think the Packers sans a running game are going to make the Super Bowl? Jason Campbell and the Redskins? Anyone who mentions the Bears or Saints should have their vitals checked. If Texas and the eastern seaboard get nuked, maybe the Seahawks. Conceivably the Eagles or Cardinals if e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g were to fall in place.
The NFC front-runner is Dallas. Deservingly so. But come playoff time, Eli’s three extra years of experience over Romo could be hhhhuge. Don’t overlook the Giants for a second.
In the AFC, I can’t for the life of me explain how a defending Super Bowl champ with one of the best QBs in the history of the NFL wins its first five games and gets downgraded to second-class status this quickly. The fans and sportscasters (there they are again) overnight migration to, and relentless worship of, the Patriots deserves its own chapter in modern mythology.
Yes, Belichick’s boys are decidedly improved. And they have blitzkrieged through five games. But the combined record of the teams the Pats have beaten is downright laughable: 6 – 13 (31.5%). Three of those victories came against teams which specialize in field hockey (the Bills, Jets, & Browns).
Let’s not uncork the Patriots’ bubbly just yet.
Personally, I think the Pats & Colts would be deserving co-favorites for the Super Bowl, except in reality the advantage has to belong to the team with home field advantage in the playoffs. Checking their schedules, the remaining home games for both teams look innocent enough. Meanwhile, New England has four tough road games remaining: Dallas, Indy (!), Baltimore, and the Giants. The Colts’ remaining road games of note are: Jacksonville, Carolina, San Diego, & Baltimore.
Advantage Colts.
Importantly, if the Colts and Pats have the same record at season’s end, home field advantage will belong to the winner of their game on November 4th (at Indy).
Advantage Colts.
Nonetheless, the Patriots are currently 2 - 1 to win the Super Bowl on TradeSports while the Colts are 5.5 - 1. Personally, I think these odds are within a standard deviation of ABSURD. If nothing else, that spread should narrow over the course of the season. If the Colts beat the Patriots in November, that spread will decrease a ton. Which is also to admit that I love the Colts’ current value.
And if I love the Colts at 5.5 - 1, how do you think I feel about the Giants at 65-1?!?!?! If the Giants win two of their next three games, their odds will go down. If they win all three, they might be 20-1 (providing an opportunity to sell, tripling your money).
Hear that song playing in the background? If not, turn up your hearing aid and start spreading the news:
“I wanna be a part of it, New York, New York.”
To be sure, this entry should denote that I never took to the Smith Barney slogan ("We do things the old fashioned way; we earn it"). Rather, I side with Fast Eddie Felsen in The Color of Money believing that, “money won is twice as sweet as money earned.”
And therein lies the beauty of bold predictions. It’s a chance to put your money where your mouth is with sights on a generous return. And if that prediction comes to fruition, by all means, wear your favorite NFL jersey to the bar and dissect the X’s and O’s of your brilliance ad nauseam. That right comes with bold predictions and bold predictions alone.
CBS & Fox: please take note.
My major gripe is the praise which spews ad nauseam when a host picks an unsurprising winner. For example, Bill Cowher’s lightning bolt last week that the Steelers (at home, - 6) were gonna take it to the Seahawks. During the post-game show I thought Marino was going to throw J.B. an Isotoner glove so that they could simultaneously pat Cowher’s ass. The homage to Cowher lasted a solid ten minutes, by which point I was onto reruns of the World Series of Poker (which inexplicably, never get old).
In their defense, the studio hosts have a lot of air time to fill. But that doesn’t mean they should get off easy; we deserve occasional acuity from these “experts.” Pick the Bills to beat the Cowboys, the 49ers to beat the Colts. This is the NFL: timing and circumstance matter. As is proven every year, any team can lose on any given Sunday. Tell us when and why something unlikely might happen.
Make a bold prediction for crying out loud.
And to show you that I’m not merely an arm-chair quarterback who rants from my (barely visible) soap box, here’s a bold prediction for you: the 2008 Super Bowl will feature BOTH Manning brothers. How about that for a humdinger.
Here’s why it could happen.
Admittedly, Dallas appears to be the class of the NFC, even when considering Romo’s 5 INT performance against Buffalo. That being said, the Giants are capable of beating the Cowboys. Heck, they might not have to face them.
The Giants’ offense has proven capable of scoring in bunches: a huge plus in the playoffs. Plaxico Burress is playing like a 22 year-old. The return of Brandon Jacobs, coupled with the effectiveness of Derrick Ward, means the Giants will have two legitimate running options down the stretch against banged up defenses.
And then there’s Eli.
His slightly-separated shoulder in Week 1 was the best thing that ever happened to him. The following week Eli went from being Peyton’s paltry little brother to a disciple of Rocky IV (the guy who trains in Siberia and fights through the pain). Simultaneously, when Eli’s arm refused to stay in the sling, the New York fans did a 180 and decided to set up shop in his corner (we want Eli on that wall; we need Eli on that wall).
Five years from now, if Eli is still playing well, this minor injury will be remembered as the turning point of his career.
On the defensive side, the Giants’ 4 – 3 must have scored a truck load of ecstasy after Week 3: these guys are suddenly FLYING to the ball. Twelve sacks against the Eagles – flat out ridiculous. Granted, their secondary is questionable (Medicare eligible Sam Madison and rookie Aaron Ross). But nobody said bold predictions were gonna come easily.
The Giants’ record is currently 3 – 2 with three games before their bye: at Atlanta, San Francisco at home, and at Miami. Not exactly the upper echelon of the NFL. Making 6 – 2 a realistic goal going into their Nov. 11 home game against Dallas.
The Cowboys play New England and Minnesota at home, then Philadelphia on the road. Good chance they’ll lose one of those games; wouldn’t be surprised if they lost twice. In other words, the Giants/Cowboys game in November could be for the division lead.
Don’t look now, the Giants could host the Cowboys in the playoffs.
Not sold? Here’s another news flash: the NFC blows. You think the Packers sans a running game are going to make the Super Bowl? Jason Campbell and the Redskins? Anyone who mentions the Bears or Saints should have their vitals checked. If Texas and the eastern seaboard get nuked, maybe the Seahawks. Conceivably the Eagles or Cardinals if e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g were to fall in place.
The NFC front-runner is Dallas. Deservingly so. But come playoff time, Eli’s three extra years of experience over Romo could be hhhhuge. Don’t overlook the Giants for a second.
In the AFC, I can’t for the life of me explain how a defending Super Bowl champ with one of the best QBs in the history of the NFL wins its first five games and gets downgraded to second-class status this quickly. The fans and sportscasters (there they are again) overnight migration to, and relentless worship of, the Patriots deserves its own chapter in modern mythology.
Yes, Belichick’s boys are decidedly improved. And they have blitzkrieged through five games. But the combined record of the teams the Pats have beaten is downright laughable: 6 – 13 (31.5%). Three of those victories came against teams which specialize in field hockey (the Bills, Jets, & Browns).
Let’s not uncork the Patriots’ bubbly just yet.
Personally, I think the Pats & Colts would be deserving co-favorites for the Super Bowl, except in reality the advantage has to belong to the team with home field advantage in the playoffs. Checking their schedules, the remaining home games for both teams look innocent enough. Meanwhile, New England has four tough road games remaining: Dallas, Indy (!), Baltimore, and the Giants. The Colts’ remaining road games of note are: Jacksonville, Carolina, San Diego, & Baltimore.
Advantage Colts.
Importantly, if the Colts and Pats have the same record at season’s end, home field advantage will belong to the winner of their game on November 4th (at Indy).
Advantage Colts.
Nonetheless, the Patriots are currently 2 - 1 to win the Super Bowl on TradeSports while the Colts are 5.5 - 1. Personally, I think these odds are within a standard deviation of ABSURD. If nothing else, that spread should narrow over the course of the season. If the Colts beat the Patriots in November, that spread will decrease a ton. Which is also to admit that I love the Colts’ current value.
And if I love the Colts at 5.5 - 1, how do you think I feel about the Giants at 65-1?!?!?! If the Giants win two of their next three games, their odds will go down. If they win all three, they might be 20-1 (providing an opportunity to sell, tripling your money).
Hear that song playing in the background? If not, turn up your hearing aid and start spreading the news:
“I wanna be a part of it, New York, New York.”
To be sure, this entry should denote that I never took to the Smith Barney slogan ("We do things the old fashioned way; we earn it"). Rather, I side with Fast Eddie Felsen in The Color of Money believing that, “money won is twice as sweet as money earned.”
And therein lies the beauty of bold predictions. It’s a chance to put your money where your mouth is with sights on a generous return. And if that prediction comes to fruition, by all means, wear your favorite NFL jersey to the bar and dissect the X’s and O’s of your brilliance ad nauseam. That right comes with bold predictions and bold predictions alone.
CBS & Fox: please take note.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Baseball in October
My grandfather loved baseball. He loved baseball unconditionally, and he was unconditionally pessimistic about his baseball teams. His doubts were, by in large, justified.
My grandfather worked for the government in D.C. so my dad grew up in a Washington Senators household. Unfortunately, opportunities for father and son to applaud the hometown nine were few and far between. From 1947 – 1960 the Senators averaged just 61 wins a season (41%). Over that same interval, Red Sox outfielder Ted Williams reached base over 49% of the time – making it more likely that Williams would reach base twice in a game than the Senators would leave the stadium with a victory.
In 1971 baseball left Washington, not to return for another 34 years. But by the 1970s my grandfather had a new team to cheer for. He was raised in Macon, GA and played baseball at the Univ. of Georgia. When the Milwaukee Braves moved to Atlanta in 1966, it made for a natural fit. Also fitting was the on-field likeness between his old team and new.
From 1972 to 1990 the Braves would finish last or next to last in their division 13 times. Over a half-century stretch, my grandfather had aligned with two of the worst franchises in major league baseball history. And thanks to Ted Turner, my grandfather (and the nation) got to see every single game on TV.
Watching the Braves on Turner Broadcasting may have been an exercise in futility for most fans, but it was a blessing for me. It was the perfect backdrop for visiting my grandfather.
Once or twice a month my dad would drop me off for a night of bungling Braves’ baseball. A bag of Nutter Butter cookies would be waiting for me, and the fridge would be stocked with 4-ounce (peel-the-seal) cans of grape juice. For me, as a budding teenager, grape nights of baseball with my grandfather beat anything out of Ridgemont High.
Admittedly, our gatherings often featured a two-headed trouncing. I would flip back and forth between the anemic Cubs, my team of choice, and the bottom-feeding Braves. I was always naively optimistic while he assured me that losing was a birthright. To my chagrin, dozens of statistical categories accentuated our teams' troubles (most notably, their records).
Then, in 1991, the unforeseeable happened: the Braves went from worst to first. A young pitching staff featuring Steve Avery, John Smoltz, and Tom Glavine was complimented by a resurgent offensive with Chipper Jones and Ron Gant. Almost overnight, the Braves began to erase decades of miserable play.
But winning doesn’t come easy to grandfathers and grandsons accustomed to 100 loss seasons. For the better part of fifty years, mediocrity had been my grandfather's upper ceiling. A 3rd or 4th place division finish was something that came along every six to eight years; October baseball was simply not a prospect to be considered in earnest.
Which made the following reality all the more unfathomable.
Starting in 1991, and for the next fourteen years, the Atlanta Braves would finish every single season 1st in their division. A feat, which in all likelihood, will never be equaled. If my grandfather had lived until 2005 he would have died in disbelief; he passed away in 2000, after the ninth year in the streak.
After each of those nine titles my grandfather was convinced the previous year was the last in the run. The Braves' pitching was getting too old. Their hitting was too inconsistent. Their bullpen wasn't quite good enough. My grandfather showered these reasons, and a myriad of others, upon me annually. The Braves were done: I could take it to the bank.
But somewhere in heaven or its proximity my grandfather is reading this and shaking his head. For another five seasons after my grandfather passed, Manager Bobby Cox kept the division titles coming – fourteen in all. Cox put winners on the field, and October in Atlanta became synonymous with baseball. After fifty years of demoralizing results, my grandfather had a team with a legacy for all-time.
Fast forward: now it’s 2007 and my Chicago Cubs have stumbled into the playoffs. Their regular season was hardly inspirational, boasting a record only eight games above .500. Somehow their marginal play still bested their division foes.
Maybe it’s a genetic thing, but my grandfather's doubting ways now belong to me. My Cubs are too inconsistent at the plate. Their bullpen isn’t quite good enough. And their starting rotation needs another reliable arm. Two of those concerns played out in Game 1 against the Diamondbacks. The ice only gets thinner from here.
Nonetheless, the Cubs are playing baseball in the only month that matters. And if history has taught us anything, it’s that anything is possible come October.
Drysdale could be perfect. Buckner might let a ball go through his legs. Schilling is capable of bleeding the Red Sox to victory. And when you least expect it, a Dodger might hobble out of the dugout and send a game-winning homer into the Los Angeles night.
Incredibly, the Gibson Game (Dodgers vs. A’s in Game 1 of the ’88 World Series) was THE SAME DAY as Notre Dame’s unforgettable football victory over Jimmie Johnson’s top-ranked Miami Hurricanes. Lou Holtz's Irish won 31 - 30 when Miami went for two and didn't make it. Combine the two classic games, and October 15th, 1988 belongs in the upper echelons of sports history.
Even more special for me -- I spent the day at my grandfather’s.
Not surprisingly, I miss my grandfather the most this time of year. As the boys of summer head for the home stretch, I’m reminded that October is without a devoted fan. Plus, I know that he would have liked the ‘07 Cubs -- pessimistic about their chances, but onboard and supportive of Lou's assembled crew.
He would have liked Theriot for his hustle, Marmol for his nasty slider, and Zambrano for being "El Toro." But above all, he would have loved the Cubs’ first baseman. He liked old school hitters who always put the ball in play. Hitters who delivered in the clutch.
He would have loved Derek Lee.
To be sure, I’ll be cheering and remembering this October. My grandfather will be with me, even if not in the flesh. It’s a great time of year for familial reunions, literal and spiritual, with sights on a three-week march to the Fall Classic.
Because in October you set your pessimism aside and commit to believing, even if it's not easy to do. You hope the ride lasts all month and ends with the timeless words of Vin Scully, which I first heard in my grandfather's apartment two decades ago: “In a year that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened!”
I should buy Nutter Butter cookies and grape juice just in case.
My grandfather worked for the government in D.C. so my dad grew up in a Washington Senators household. Unfortunately, opportunities for father and son to applaud the hometown nine were few and far between. From 1947 – 1960 the Senators averaged just 61 wins a season (41%). Over that same interval, Red Sox outfielder Ted Williams reached base over 49% of the time – making it more likely that Williams would reach base twice in a game than the Senators would leave the stadium with a victory.
In 1971 baseball left Washington, not to return for another 34 years. But by the 1970s my grandfather had a new team to cheer for. He was raised in Macon, GA and played baseball at the Univ. of Georgia. When the Milwaukee Braves moved to Atlanta in 1966, it made for a natural fit. Also fitting was the on-field likeness between his old team and new.
From 1972 to 1990 the Braves would finish last or next to last in their division 13 times. Over a half-century stretch, my grandfather had aligned with two of the worst franchises in major league baseball history. And thanks to Ted Turner, my grandfather (and the nation) got to see every single game on TV.
Watching the Braves on Turner Broadcasting may have been an exercise in futility for most fans, but it was a blessing for me. It was the perfect backdrop for visiting my grandfather.
Once or twice a month my dad would drop me off for a night of bungling Braves’ baseball. A bag of Nutter Butter cookies would be waiting for me, and the fridge would be stocked with 4-ounce (peel-the-seal) cans of grape juice. For me, as a budding teenager, grape nights of baseball with my grandfather beat anything out of Ridgemont High.
Admittedly, our gatherings often featured a two-headed trouncing. I would flip back and forth between the anemic Cubs, my team of choice, and the bottom-feeding Braves. I was always naively optimistic while he assured me that losing was a birthright. To my chagrin, dozens of statistical categories accentuated our teams' troubles (most notably, their records).
Then, in 1991, the unforeseeable happened: the Braves went from worst to first. A young pitching staff featuring Steve Avery, John Smoltz, and Tom Glavine was complimented by a resurgent offensive with Chipper Jones and Ron Gant. Almost overnight, the Braves began to erase decades of miserable play.
But winning doesn’t come easy to grandfathers and grandsons accustomed to 100 loss seasons. For the better part of fifty years, mediocrity had been my grandfather's upper ceiling. A 3rd or 4th place division finish was something that came along every six to eight years; October baseball was simply not a prospect to be considered in earnest.
Which made the following reality all the more unfathomable.
Starting in 1991, and for the next fourteen years, the Atlanta Braves would finish every single season 1st in their division. A feat, which in all likelihood, will never be equaled. If my grandfather had lived until 2005 he would have died in disbelief; he passed away in 2000, after the ninth year in the streak.
After each of those nine titles my grandfather was convinced the previous year was the last in the run. The Braves' pitching was getting too old. Their hitting was too inconsistent. Their bullpen wasn't quite good enough. My grandfather showered these reasons, and a myriad of others, upon me annually. The Braves were done: I could take it to the bank.
But somewhere in heaven or its proximity my grandfather is reading this and shaking his head. For another five seasons after my grandfather passed, Manager Bobby Cox kept the division titles coming – fourteen in all. Cox put winners on the field, and October in Atlanta became synonymous with baseball. After fifty years of demoralizing results, my grandfather had a team with a legacy for all-time.
Fast forward: now it’s 2007 and my Chicago Cubs have stumbled into the playoffs. Their regular season was hardly inspirational, boasting a record only eight games above .500. Somehow their marginal play still bested their division foes.
Maybe it’s a genetic thing, but my grandfather's doubting ways now belong to me. My Cubs are too inconsistent at the plate. Their bullpen isn’t quite good enough. And their starting rotation needs another reliable arm. Two of those concerns played out in Game 1 against the Diamondbacks. The ice only gets thinner from here.
Nonetheless, the Cubs are playing baseball in the only month that matters. And if history has taught us anything, it’s that anything is possible come October.
Drysdale could be perfect. Buckner might let a ball go through his legs. Schilling is capable of bleeding the Red Sox to victory. And when you least expect it, a Dodger might hobble out of the dugout and send a game-winning homer into the Los Angeles night.
Incredibly, the Gibson Game (Dodgers vs. A’s in Game 1 of the ’88 World Series) was THE SAME DAY as Notre Dame’s unforgettable football victory over Jimmie Johnson’s top-ranked Miami Hurricanes. Lou Holtz's Irish won 31 - 30 when Miami went for two and didn't make it. Combine the two classic games, and October 15th, 1988 belongs in the upper echelons of sports history.
Even more special for me -- I spent the day at my grandfather’s.
Not surprisingly, I miss my grandfather the most this time of year. As the boys of summer head for the home stretch, I’m reminded that October is without a devoted fan. Plus, I know that he would have liked the ‘07 Cubs -- pessimistic about their chances, but onboard and supportive of Lou's assembled crew.
He would have liked Theriot for his hustle, Marmol for his nasty slider, and Zambrano for being "El Toro." But above all, he would have loved the Cubs’ first baseman. He liked old school hitters who always put the ball in play. Hitters who delivered in the clutch.
He would have loved Derek Lee.
To be sure, I’ll be cheering and remembering this October. My grandfather will be with me, even if not in the flesh. It’s a great time of year for familial reunions, literal and spiritual, with sights on a three-week march to the Fall Classic.
Because in October you set your pessimism aside and commit to believing, even if it's not easy to do. You hope the ride lasts all month and ends with the timeless words of Vin Scully, which I first heard in my grandfather's apartment two decades ago: “In a year that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened!”
I should buy Nutter Butter cookies and grape juice just in case.
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