Earlier this week, I exchanged a few emails with my old boss Steve, at one point him asking: Is this the worst team in the history of Fordham basketball….or was last year’s the worst?
This year’s F.U. Rams men’s basketball team is abysmal – 2-20 (0-10) thus far, last in the Atlantic-10. And last year’s team was likewise atrocious (3-25 (1-15). In fact, it translates to a .111 winning percentage over the last two season. However, in all the years I’ve followed Fordham basketball, I’ll always associate the 2002-03 team (my freshman year at Fordham) as the worst team I rooted for – 4-24 overall; two wins courtesy of a St. Bonaventure recruiting scandal.
An anecdote from the first game I attended…
Bob Hill (former NBA coach of the Knicks, Pacers, Spurs) was still the coach that year, and during a late January loss against Xavier some kid started a FIRE BOB HILL! chant that resulted in an altercation between the incisive fan and the moms of the Fordham players. A few months later, Fordham and Hill “agreed to amicably part ways.”
Truth be told, I was mainly there to see David West dominate for Xavier, but I’ve stuck by Fordham’s team ever since!
…
Anyone think they can top this level of lackluster? Chime in and let me know what worst team you ever rooted for was?
On September 14, 2009, the great Patrick Swayze lost his battle with pancreatic cancer and passed away too young at the age of 57. Swayze had a prolific acting career, one that inspired his devoted fan base to believe that if anyone could beat this disease it was him (Swayze played a bank robbing surf ninja and villainous sky diving enthusiast in Point Break. Cancer? No problem, compadre). He was diagnosed in January of 2008 with a sickness that most people will succumb to in under a year – he held on for 20+ months. During that time period, his 1989 film Road House was the most broadcast movie on American television in the past year according to Rolling Stone – airing 45 times on AMC, A&E and CMT. Maybe you were lucky enough to flip it on and catch a riveting scene like this…
In lieu of burying Swayze with Dalton’s medical dossier, each Tuesday during football season I’ll be awarding one player the “Pain Don’t Hurt” Award to honor Swayze’s memory. This week’s recipient…Before we get to this week’s award winner, let me just say one thing: dammitall.
One week after Frank Gore rumbled for…well, let’s be honest, what I care about is that he rumbled for 40 points for my fantasy team, Gore pulls – as LL might say in an NFL ad spot – a Frank Gore and goes down for 3 weeks. The curse of the Pain Don’t Hurt Award strikes again.
These recent unfortunate events* for both myself and the San Fran Niners (who become more tragic every week it seems) does make it easier for me to select a player this week from my most hated franchise in the league – the New Jersey Jets.
Mark Sanchez stayed efficient, went for 171 yards passing and two TDs, including that unreal 14-yard rushing TD that was full of both hard-nosed determination and rookie poor decision making.
We’re gonna give Mark the award (cause I’m sure as hell not giving one of these to Favre. Not in this lifetime), but since it really grinds my gears the Jets are a shuttering 3-0, I’ve also got a foolish pic of him up on the SB Facebook page – GO CREATE-A-CAPTION!
*In no way am I rooting for anything physically unfortunate to happen to Mark Sanchez that would jeopardize his playing career, or even further jeopardize his ability to grow a mustache. If, the PDH Award can in anyway cause him to get scolded more (check out: Jets scold Mark Sanchez for putting San-chize at risk with head-first dive), well that I’m all for.
Thanks to everyone who voted in the What’s The Greatest Sports Day of the Year? poll. The results are in and posted – wait for it – at my new posterous blog.
Unnecessary redirect of the year.
But seriously, if you’re up on Posterous you should subscribe to me, and we can communicate as friends in yet another rambunctious internet hippodrome – I plan to post about this year’s zombie pin-up calendar there later on.
One hint, the day that received 47% of the votes partially relates to this event happening soon that’s going to be badass – http://www.secbigeastinvitational.com
Leading up to this past weekend’s inception of the 2009-10 NFL season, I polled the sports blogosphere on What’s the Greatest Sports Day of the Year. Thought we’d get a top-10 out of it, but it turns out everybody sort of likes the same days with a few wild cards thrown in. (Actually, just The Indy 500 sort of puzzles me.)
Therefore, here’s my highly arbitrary Top-5 based on the sports blog intelligentsia’s feedback.
Don’t forget to vote at the bottom…
NFL Opening Sunday
Hanging out in a bar or ensconced on a couch with onion dip for 8-12 hours on a Sunday watching pro football is a truly iconic American experience. We wait all Summer for that experience, the whole time left to believe that sort of behavior is inappropriate and lethargic. Then, on a faithful Sunday in September – no matter what level of balmy Indian Summer weather we’re having – all your dreams come true, sloth. And, it’s not just one day, but the start of 5+ months of Sundays like this.
Here is Adam Best’s (Fansided.com) take on NFL opening day…
Not only is the NFL the professional sports league with the best product, it’s the sports league with the best presentation. After waiting for over half a year for the real thing, you get a taste of actual NFL regular season action on opening Thursday. That just wets your appetite for the 13 games on the Sunday slate. From tailgating to fantasy football, there isn’t a sports day that offers this much from start to finish. Christmas in September. Watching the Red Zone Channel for almost 7 hours before you switch over to NBC for the encore, and ESPN and the NFLN for the nightcap recap. From 8 AM until Midnight it’s all NFL. You can’t get non-stop action and highlights like that anywhere else.
The Kentucky Derby
I’ll take the sights at the local OTB on the day of the Kentucky Derby over any exploding fireworks spectacular. If they put an OTB there, even Mayberry would look like public squalor on Derby day. Utterly, fantastic.
But, to quote something The Cincinnati Kid Steve McQueen might have said – it’s not just the gambling, it’s also the drinking. You can muddle fruit everyday of the year, and it’ll never taste as well muddled as in a julep on Derby Day.
Also, you can wear a seersucker suit or a hat shaped like an extra large Triple Meat Italiano from Pizza Hut every day of the year, and people will always look at you with vague condescension, but at least on Derby Day they’ll have formulated an explanation as to why you’re dressed like a doofus.
The NBA Draft
I got more responses that read I know it sounds crazy, but I really enjoy the NBA Draft. Why so ashamed?
Two rounds, five minutes a pick (two minutes in the second round even), and all the wardrobe audacity that you could ask for in under three hours. I don’t think ESPN could get a more efficient display of unintentional comedy if they got Keyshawn, Kruk and Lou Holtz to tri-anchor SportsCenter live from Pamplona at the Running of the Bulls.
Opening Day
Answer: The first day when teams play each other in this sport is commonly referred to as Opening Day.
What is baseball, Alex. This would be a $200 dollar question in Jeopardy round. Under the category: Sports, amateur hour.
There’s a reason it’s Opening Day, and not Opening Sunday in the norms of society. And, the explanation might be that this is actually the greatest sports day of the year.
Hope springs eternal. Dads with their sons playing hookie from school and work, your first smells of the fresh cut infield and outfield grass, grilled ballpark franks, batting practice and ice cold beer…and then you go home that night to watch march madness…perfection.
The first or second day of the NCAA Tournament:
I used to work with a guy who took Thursday and Friday of the NCAA tournament off every year, and went to Vegas with his buddies for the first round of the tournament. In a world where most of us lose vacation time do to sinister company policies, he’s an inspiration.
Interchangeably known as the least productive day of the corporate year, sports fans might actually be at their best and brightest these two days. There are 13 games on NFL Opening Sunday, and due to mitigating circumstances (spreads, fantasy players, food comas) you’re bound to let the outcome of one or two slip until Sport Center, Monday morning. Also, due to occurrences like Opening Day: Kansas City at Baltimore, you’re likely to not care about the full MLB slate on April 1. 32 teams play on each of the first two days of the tournament, and you will know the fate of every single one (and you won’t need to reference a fistful of sports book tickets to conjure up this knowledge).
Hit the poll to vote for the greatest sports day out of these five, and check out some other bloggers’ takes below…
1. Super Bowl Sunday
2. Opening Day Baseball
3. Game 7 ( MLB or NBA )
4. NFL Championship Sunday NFC AFC
5. The Big Dance Day 1
6. The Big Dance Final 4
7. The Big Dance Sweet 16
8. First Saturday of NCAA Football
The best sports day of the year for me is New Year’s day. I love college football and having it to watch from 11:00 in the morning until after midnight engrooses me every single year. The first two days of the NCAA Basketball Tourney run a close second, and baseball opening day is third.
This is going to sound ridiculous, but one of my favorite days has always been the NBA All-Star game day/weekend. My birthday always happens to fall on that same weekend so I get to celebrate my bday along with my favorite sport’s all-star festivities.
This poll is inspired by the tumultuous weather (mostly, the murky side effects of) endured at All Points West festival this weekend. You know it’s bad when you’ve only been at the concert for two hours and you have a woman’s scarf draped around your neck in the rain in an attempt to influence the blood flowing to your head to keep you warm… and you’re listening to Vampire Weekend. Or, on Day Two, when I was forced to sock @melfi in the right rotator cuff to counteract the agonizing pain in his foot from smearing Purell on an open wound (great moments in staving off infection). Day Three was by far the muddiest (made Friday and Saturday’s terrain look like a white sand beach), but it was also the day I stayed the most dry. Check out the attire (I’m the grey guy)…
On the other hand, All Points West was also completely awesome (Jay-Z, The Black Keys, The National, Fleet Foxes, Tool). Just like the first NFL game I went to see live. Dec. 12, 1993, Foxboro Stadium. The 2-11 New England Patriots vs. the 1-12 Cincy Bengals. Drew Bledsoe leads the Pats to a 7-2 triumph, a combined score that equals the number of layers of clothing my nine-year old self wore to the friendly tin confines of Foxboro that day.
To get there, my dad, my uncles and I piled into a Tioga winne… there’s no amount of antifreeze that would have got that beast started after the game. We had to call in a reserve Minivan for the ride home. Giving up no less than 140 lbs. to everyone, I had the added bonus of sitting between the driver and the shotgun seats on the floor. The moral of the story, the Patriots never looked back. Bledsoe rattled off 4 straight wins to finish ’93 at 5-11.
This week, send me your memory of The Most Treacherous Weather You’ve Encountered at a Sporting Event. I’ll post the best on Friday. Special consideration will be given to submissions with photo evidence of ridiculous, yet element-braving, clothing – not unlike my grey baffoon suit pictured above.
In honor of my first trip back to Fenway Park this weekend, I put it out there to some of the sports blog intelligentsia to send: My First Sports Memory
You can read all about my personal moment of nostalgia – a heartwarming tale about how Fenway Park turned a shy six-year old into a leader of men – here. Below is some more true folklore (at least in the eye of the beholder).
If nothing else, this a great chance to see a few of your favorite sports bloggers really, really date themselves ( Game 3 of the 1986 World Series, a Kirk Gibson game, the John Havlicek retirement game!).
My earliest sports memory was Game 3 of the 1986 World Series at Fenway Park. My father had one ticket to the game (second row centerfield bleachers), but he decided to bring me figuring they wouldn’t deny an 8 year old entrance to the game. He was right, the old man at the gate pulled me up over the turnstyle and let me into the game. I don’t remember much about the game other than the fact that Oil Can Boyd was on the mound for the Sox and shit the bed.
I hope this led to a life of hurdling-the-turnstyle crime for Mr. Don Chavez.
I was 7 years old and we went to see the Salt Lake City Trappers on the 4th of July. I believe Hank Aaron threw the first pitch. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew that there was going to be fireworks after the game. The only thing that I remember is that there was a loud bang that just scared me to death, and I
yelped out my first F bomb. The next moments were in slow motion. My step Dad looked at me and then told my Mother what her son just said. My next memory is having soap in my mouth.
They’ll be other examples of kids blinding loving the watered-down experience (especially when you’re not old enough to drink) that is Minor League baseball..as well as more F-bombs.
For me, probably around 1983-84, at Memorial Stadium to see the Orioles play. My father took my 4 siblings and I to the games to give my mom a break in the evenings. We always got there early to catch balls in the outfield bleachers, and get autographs signed by the players during batting practice. Cal “not overrated” Ripken would sign at every game, and sign for everyone. I have one baseball that he signed for me on four different occasions. When was the last time you saw a ball player spend 45 minutes signing autographs on game day? He is from Baltimore, and is Baltimore and every kid growing up in that era and in that area have Cal Ripken as their first and most lasting memory in Sports.
Touching, let’s hear about an autograph signing gone sour, shall we..
I remember going to a Bullets-Pistons game at the Capital Centre with my dad and one of my friends, around 1990. Well after the game ended, a few of the players including John Salley went down the line of waiting fans to sign autographs. Salley got the group to my right, looked directly at my friend Sean and me, and went directly to the next group on our left. My dad tried to get autographs for us also but he refused to sign for him too. I’ve never been a John Salley fan since.
Then again, if this goes differently, imagine the shame you’d be feeling right now if you grew up loving John Salley…
1986, it must have been. Tony Pena’s last year with the Pirates. I woulda been 2. I remember someone telling me that Pena was up to bat at Three Rivers Stadium…either my dad or the announcer. I was sitting in the nosebleeds, but remember saying “He’s gonna hit a home run,” which he did, to the leftfield seats way below me. Pena’s always been one of my favorite players because of that.
One of the many Red Sox games of my youth also featured a Tony Pena home run – the rarity of which can not be overstated (1,988 games career games – just 107 HRs).
1983, Left Field at Veterans Stadium, sitting in ubstructed view seats, so I actually ended up watching on television screens on overhang, my uncle lectures me, “Just remember that your Godfather took you to see Pete Rose play baseball.” I remembered. Though, I could have seen the same game at home.
I remember going to the Phoenix Firebirds game at Phoenix Municipal Stadium on my brother’s birthday. The Firebirds were the AAA affiliate for the Giants back then and I got to see a bunch of great players come through. But that night I couldn’t have been older than five or six. It was a night game because it’s Phoenix in the summer and you don’t play baseball during the day outside. I remember how packed the place was. Matt Williams was on the team and there was a buzz about him but I didn’t care about that. I just liked the environment of the ballpark. Nothing of note happened (besides hearing my brother’s name announced over the PA) but it was my first trip to the ballpark and I still remember the way the sky looked and the way the mountains made strange shadows on the field.
We were up in the nosebleeds. the place smelled real bad. I remember my science teacher Mr. Coyle was selling beer. Very surreal. On the floor for the Celtics were guys like Pistol Pete Maravich, Dave Bing, I remember they were playing buffalo and ernie d the former braves star but local kid from providence was on the celtics at the time. the place went absolutey nuts for hondo. ab-so-lute-ly nuts. i dont remember the garden ever rocking like that and we had seasons all through the bird years. thats the night my love
affair with the celtics began.
Josh, we can deduce that you were at least in grade school when this game took place – in 1978 – how old are you?
Little background info:
I was born in Bremerhaven, Germany and lived there until 1995 then moved to Olympia, WA.
After living in WA for a few months we went to a Mariners-Yankees game in the 1995 divisonal series playoffs. We went to game 5 of the series so the series was 2-2. It was a great game, we sat in left-center at the Kingdome(old Mariners stadium shared with the Seahawks). Since it was a old stadium, not all the seats were that good but who cares it was game 5. It went to 11 innings that night with my team, the Mariners(who I am still a huge fan of), winning the game 6-5.
My first baseball game: Mariners-Yankees, game 5, 11 innings. Mariners Winning.
This wins the reward for decrepit sporting venue visited in thine youth…whoops, wait a second…
My first live sporting event memory was on a cold October night at the old Tiger Stadium in Detroit. Back when Sweet Lou and Trammel ruled the middle of the diamond and Kirk Gibson was in shape.
My dad had a stache like Jack Morris and it was his first game as well.
It was 1984 and I was 10. The ball park seemed like a magical place despite the scary surroundings of Motown. The bathrooms had long pee troughs like a farm, the floors were dirty and the hand rails were sticky with beer (hoping that was the case).
I remember thinking that the field seemed way smaller than I expected and the grass much greener.
It was a frosty night and I also remember having a lot of hot chocolate to keep my hands warm, more so than enjoying it as a drink.
I don’t remember who the Tigers were playing, nor who won but I do remember Gibson hitting one out of the park and into the lumber yard across the street. It was all anyone was talking about.
I was just glad I did not miss it.
It may not of been the most glamorous place but the old Tiger Stadium will always have a soft spot in my sporting heart.
Back in like 1996 or 1997 the NBA pre-season schedule grabbed a spot in Missoula, MT of all places which happened to be a couple of hours from where I grew up. So my Dad and I and a couple of friends grabbed some tickets and went. The game was between the Sonics and the Grizzlies (Vancouver of course) and was a big deal to us small time Montana folk. Long story short – at some point in the middle of the game, George Karl showed his disagreement with the officiating by dropping an “F” bomb. Now you have to understand how small the arena was and as you can imagine, the entire place heard it, staring back at George in complete shock. George, realized he had been caught, and dropped the sheepiest of all sheepish grins while look around in embarrassment. Classic.
You sure you don’t remember flyfishing first? Because you were probably flyfishing the day before…and every day at 4 a.m. before and after. What is is with Montanadians and the fly fishing, anyway?
And what is it about effin that leave such an impression on the kids? Moving on…
My parents took me to a Yankee game when I was a really little kid. We had great seats on the first base line through my dad’s work. It’s every kids dream to catch a foul ball and on that day, mine came true…well almost did.
It was mid-way through the game when my dad went to get himself and my mom a few beers. When he got to his seat, one of the Yankee players hit a foul ball and it was coming right at us. Without any time to put the beers in each hand down, my father stuck the cup in the air in an attempt to catch the ball. As the ball fell from the sky closer and closer, my dad targeted the ball with the cup. And then, he caught it. Right in his cup. This was a million to one shot. You know that game where you have a ball attached to a cup with a string and you try to catch the ball in the cup? Well this was like that on PEDs and no string. I couldn’t believe he caught the ball.
We didn’t even have a chance to savor the moment. As this miracle catch happened, the asshole behind us was going for the foul as well. The ball didn’t even have a chance to get wet. This dick swatted at the ball hitting my dad’s cup, sending the ball 4 rows in front of us. Unbelievable.
Steve Melfi, who eventually forgave his dad for that fumble last Summer, wishes you all a Happy Father’s Day.
This weekend, I’m making my long awaited return to Fenway Park – a place I haven’t been in over 10 years.
As a young lad, going to Fenway was a yearly ritual. I’m pretty sure my first game was during the 1990 season – the Roger Clemens era, yes, but also the Mike Greenwell and Jack Clark era. That was the season the Red Sox set the record for grounding into the most double plays (174). Now the Sox are better known for records like selling out every seat since 2003.
I’ll never forget that first game though. On the way in, taking the Green Line T from Framingham, MA, my Uncle Ronnie informed me that when someone on the opposing team strikes out you bound out of your seat and yell “Sit Down!” as menacingly and berating as possible. With my hat already nearly pulled fully over my eyes and a glove that may or may not have had velcro capabilities, my uncle probably thought it was more likely that I’d be asleep by the fourth inning.
Well, unless his true intentions were to create the most jawing 6-year old in New England that night, he should have never gave me those instructions. I’m pretty sure the game went into extra innings, and the Redx Sox pitchers K’d the opposition a few times during warm-ups too (how else could I have told no-less than 35 batters to “Sit down!!” – which is what I approximate).
I’m sure there’s backyard whiffle ball or youth league soccer glory from the late-80s documented on a beta-max in the attic, but I can’t really recall that. I remember vividly however giving the Red Sox opponents – let’s call them the Blue Jays (remember how annoying the early-90s Blue Jays were?) – the business though.
In honor of my sure-to-be triumphant return to Fenway…as well as punk little kids everywhere, I’m once again putting the sports blogger intelligentsia to task, and asking bloggers far and wide to send me a brief anecdote on:
Getting outta here a little early today. But before I go, a little unfinished business to attend to. Specifically, honoring the poll winner of our Top-5 Conan O’brien Sports Figure Look-alikes.
With 30% of the popular vote (235), Lil’ Red, the Nebraska Cornhusker mascot, takes the title! A would-be dark horse, polo enthusiast Prince Harry Windsor (182 votes) narrowly edged Vancouver Canuck farm-club goalie Corey Schneider (178 votes). Thanks to all 773 of you for voting!
Now check out some photos of Conan and his new likeness…
Conan returns tonight. He’s got a fresh time slot. Fresh studio in Los Angeles. Also, Pearl Jam is playing!! In my opinion, his reemergence once again cements the late night talk show as the TV that everyone sorta likes, and no one seems to hate radically.
Seriously, Conan rules and Jimmy Fallon drools like an invalid. As an honor to his host competency, decided to compare his finer qualities (red hair, translucent skin tone) to some of the sporting world’s finest.
Here are your Top-5 Conan Sports Figure Look-alikes. Hit the poll at the bottom or suggest your own in the comment (the only disqualification goes to Brian Scalabrine – who’d be a contender if he wasn’t already a dead-on for Rapaport)
Robert Swift – our first nominee is all things pale, ginger, and as gangly as the day is long – extra points.
Corey Schneider – he’s not just some random red-headed hockey player I pulled off Google images. This guy is actually the goalie for the Manitoba Moose, AHL affiliate of the Vancouver Canucks.
…Mountie Conan says extra points for being in Canada.
Prince Harry – or Harry Windsor, the poloist
Lil Red, Nebraska Cornhuskers Mascot – could have gone down the mascot road with a few candidates (from the Louisville Cardinal to the fire guy from the Beijing Olympics), but I thought this goofball represents best…
Chris Shelton – more like if Conan had a baby with Sloth from Goonies. There just aren’t that many good pale red baseball players (Mark McGwire and Wade Boggs – both retired, too easy, and not to mention both probably currently looking more like giant versions of the red Ooga Booga).
Don’t forget to cast a vote…
Be an informed bettor. Find the latest in sports betting news at the BetUS Locker Room. Bet on any sport at BetUS.com.
Even though there’s something like a few hundred million of us Worldwide, admittedly I’m pretty fortunate to be named Mike. For instance, it’s a handle that is rarely if ever misspelled. I can only remember once in recent times that someone botched it. I had ordered Chinese take-out and the lady wrote my name on the bill spelled Maik. She’s pretty destined not to progress beyond that field.
On the contrary, it’s gotta be rough to be named Sean, or Shaun, or Shawn – the people who meet you have a 33% chance of success at best, maybe 50% if you’re Irish. Then these two jokers come along and compound the problem…
Chone “Chown” Figgins
…and Shonn Greene, Running Back and this year’s third round draft pick of the New York Jets
One laughs in the face of phonetics, and the other completely exploits it.
Sean Connery, Shaun of the Dead, Shawn from Boy Meets World, and everyone else (except Sean Salisbury, douche), here’s a poll that aims to uphold your integrity…
