Sporting Rants and Raves: February 28, 2009

Happy 36th birthday to Mr. Eric Lindros. The Canadian born ice hockey player and member of the Flyers' 'Legion of Doom' line was one of the most dominant players of his era - when he was on the ice. Unfortunately for him and for the NHL, his many concussions - among other injuries - kept him from actualizing his true potential.

Remember the days when a free agent was an agent that was willing to do his / her work at no cost? Yeah, I don't either. Because I've lived under the shadow of free agency for my entire life. Well, for as long as I've seriously followed sports. And there's a reason I bring this up, of course. The NFL's free agency period has begun.

Albert Haynesworth to the Washington Redskins. $100 million for 7 years. Wow on so many fronts. First of all, that averages out to approximately $14.2 million per year. Egregious. Second, that means good ol' Al is comin' to the NFC East. Yick!

What else? Kellen Winslow off to Tampa Bay. Umm, okay. Not sure about this one. There are those in the league who just aren't very good apples. Based on what I know about Mr. Winslow - his University of Miami 'soldier' comment, his ridiculous motorcycle accident, and his ongoing commentary about his superiority - I can't be certain that he'll ever get his head out of his hind parts long enough to use his God-given talent.

Correll Buckhalter goes to the Denver Broncos. Westbrook better stay healthy.

Bart Scott - the name sounds like someone who might vie for greatest onscreen Cowboy - moves from Baltimore to the Jets, shoring up a strengthening defense. Unfortunately, the J-E-T-S still have no QB to get them the TDs.

Fred Taylor, after 11 years in Jacksonville, moves to the New England "We Take Old Running Backs and Still Win" Patriots. A good move for both teams, in my humble opinion. Now, Jones-Drew can handle the load in JAX. And New England has their latest rendition of Corey Dillon.

Enough football for the moment. We'll get back to a few more thoughts and surprises...

The Bonds perjury trial has been delayed indefinitely because federal prosecutors are appealing to have key evidence re-included in the trial. Meanwhile, Mr. Bonds just gets older, making it more unlikely that he will ever return to professional baseball. And his career ends not with a bang but a whimper...

Is the Shaq attack back, Jack? Or does Chris Bosh have a point? Bosh of the Toronto "We Scored More Than 100 Points and Still Got Decimated" Raptors has complained that Shaq scored 45 points primarily because refs don't necessarily call a 3-second violation on the towering Shaq. "They don't even call a 6-second rule on the gigantic mental midget," Bosh didn't say to media.

A softball update. The Thrusters and Buzz are well into their respective practice cycles of 9 a.m. and 11:30 a.m. on Sundays. The Thrusters have 12 and are looking for a couple more; an infielder and outfielder would do us well. The Buzz seem to have a full complement though getting all of them to the field at one time has been a bit of a challenge. Stay tuned as we work our way into March...

It's been a good day in Washington state. (And it's been a long time since that could be said regarding sports.) The Cougs pulled off a significant upset of #14 Arizona State. The other Huskies held off Arizona for a share in the Pac-10 title. And the real Huskies defeated the Fighting Irish to stay at #2. What does UCONN have to do with Washington State? I'm a UCONN fan. I live in Washington State. See the connection...

Welcome back, Tiger. Better luck next time, Tiger.

More news as I type. Matthew Brennan Cassel has joined his teammate Michael George Vrabel in Kansas City where Scott "Can't Find His Middle Name" Pioli has set up his new shop.

Trivia of the week: Scott Pioli married the daughter of this now retired (from coaching) Super Bowl winning coach. Name that coach.

Lito Sheppard is a Jet. Lavernues Coles is not. Speaking of Eagles leaving the nest, Brian Dawkins spurned the $3 million offer by Philly and headed west to Denver. Kitna's a Cowboy. And Housh is movin' on out of Cincy leaving the Bagels to redeem their permanent spot at the bottom of the NFL. Michael Boley and Rocky Bernard move to the New York Football Giants. (Not to mention the fact that they have Jacobs signed for the next 4 years.) And Carl Pavano's saying he feels fine after his first spring training start for Cleveland. Yeah, whatever.

Manny. Manny, Manny, Manny. The question this week surrounds Manny. Should the Dodgers be doing as much as they're doing to get Manny to come back and play in L.A.? The more significant question: should any team go to such lengths to get a very talented prima donna to play? Oh, I know I'd be naive if I didn't recognize that it's more about the money than about the game. But what if it were more about the game? Would they still be going after Manny? I would sincerely hope not. Time and again, I've watched as leaders within companies and leaders within sports have tried to coax some of the exceptionally talented prima donnas to join their respective ranks. And what does it get them? A few good products. A few more wins. Movement forward. At first. And then, the dream usually falls apart. T.O. and the 49ers. And the Eagles. And now the Cowboys. A-Rod and the M's. And the Rangers. And the Yanks. Manny and the Red Sox. And the Dodgers. Sure, it seems these people help. They catch touchdowns. Hit home runs. Score points. And so on. But in the long run, these people act as cancers to the teams for which they play and in the leagues with which they're involved. In the end, they destroy the very game at which they excel. My humble opinion? Let Manny walk. Go out and get a less talented team player and watch as the team vies for the National League West.

Trivia of the week: Scott Pioli married the daughter of this now retired (from coaching) Super Bowl winning coach. Name that man.

Mr. Duane Charles Parcells aka Bill Parcells aka The Big Tuna.

An Arm and a Leg

The one-armed man stands looking into the glass, his reflection mocking him. The metal arm behind the glass descends into the mixture of bodily extremities.

'That one,' he thinks to himself staring at the flesh-colored skin. Much better than the furry one. Or the black one in the corner.

He maneuvers the machine, trying to secure it. But he comes up empty. The fingers on his lone arm tingle from grasping the handle so tightly.

The machine whirs to life again; he jerks the handle left. Then right. But it descends before he's ready and returns the blue one. That just wouldn't do.

More change. He tries again. And again. And yet again. Nothing.

Finally, on what seems to be his 20th try and after more money than he would have spent had he been able to find it, he nabs it.

Later, at home, he gives it to his daughter, the doll from the toy chest crane at the supermarket.

3WW: American Sentences (Callous, Interfere, Persistent)

American Sentences: They are haiku-length poems that Allen Ginsburg suggested be limited to 17 syllables, like haiku in Japanese and like the Heart Sutra in Buddhism. The following two sentences are such American Sentences of 17 syllables.

The persistent pup happily interferes with the callous old man.

My calloused foot in his ass interfered with his too persistent sloth.

Interfere and you will not feel the persistent pain of calloused hands.

Video of the Week: Boom...

Goes the dynamite.

If anyone saw Sunday's Oscars, you might remember that Will Smith presented awards mostly associated with action films. Awards associated with sound and cinematography, for instance. And at one point during the broadcast - immediately after the commercial break - he fumbles through a few of his words and says, 'Boom goes the dynamite'.



There is a meaning to this random phrase. In fact, if you google it you'll find that it's all the rage on the internet.

Why?

Just watch...

Art in All Its Forms: Fractals

Tonight, I give to you a brief post. Partially because I have little time to spend. And partially because a fractal's beauty speaks for itself.

Fractal, from the Latin fractus means 'broken' or 'fractured'. A fractal, itself, is a fragmented geometric shape that can be split into parts, each of which is a reduced-sized copy of the whole. Sound like a bunch of gibberish?

Let me try to explain. Think of the movie Airplane. The original one. You know, the one where the guy has a drinking problem. Now think of Lloyd Bridges. The guy who sniffed glue. In one scene of that movie, Bridges stood in front of a picture of him standing in front of a picture of him standing in front of a picture of him... You get the picture.



No, this isn't a fractal, though the picture of the picture of the picture is self-similar, which is important in fractals. What you might do to cause this to become a fractal is to take that picture behind Lloyd and deconstruct it so that you had all the pictures to infinity. Then start copying those pictures; again an infinite number. Then start pasting the second largest copies of those pictures to the sides of the largest picture, being the television in this case. Then paste the third largest copies of those pictures to the three free sides of the second largest pictures. And on and on and on... Until you get a fractal...




Not an easy concept, to be certain. But fascinating nonetheless...