The Honeymoon Phase

One of the biggest issues a fantasy league faces is finding a night where everyone can draft. The problem our league had was that Kevin was getting married in late-August, and would be on his honeymoon for pretty much the entire drafting period. Short on time and options, I sent Kevin a g-chat and sheepishly asked the unaskable:

Me:       I know I probably shouldn't ask this
Me:       and feel free to immediately shoot it down
Me:       but is there ANY way you can draft from your honeymoon?
Me:       maybe she'll excuse you for a couple hours?
No response for two minutes, then:
Kevin:   dude
Kevin:   come on

Next week, it's Chad's turn to go on his honeymoon, relinquishing control of his fantasy team during a critical three-week juncture of the season. I can promise you no one in this world will feel more out of sorts than Chad without a fantasy team in the middle of football season. But he's doing it, trusting his team to a friend from work.

"You think Beanie Wells is inactive again this week?"

It's become very, very clear to me that the thought of maintaining ties with the football world during your honeymoon is third rail. It's a given that when you take off on that plane for Fiji, Tahiti, or whatever fantastical, once-in-a-lifetime place you're going, you're leaving your other fantasy behind.

But why? I beg you to come up with one good reason why I should have to give up football completely when I go on my honeymoon. In the meantime, I'll give you some reasons why I shouldn't.

1) LACK OF ALTERNATIVES
You're with her for 2-3 weeks straight with pretty much nothing to do but relax, read, and talk to each other. OK, maybe you go hang gliding or swimming with dolphins one day, but it's a pretty good bet that most of the time will be spent at your luxury hotel lounging by the pool drinking mojitos. So when she pulls out her InStyle or Girl With The Dragon Tattoo book, are you really expected to counter with the latest and lamest Dan Brown novel? Sure, maybe ten years ago you didn't have a choice, but that brings me to reason number two...

2) INTERNET
Internet makes it easy to stay in touch wherever you are. It's true for emailing your parents, and it's true for tweeting Jahvid Best and asking about his turf toe. You don't even have to watch the games: Just look at the stats, do a little research, and add/drop as needed. Your luxury hotel will have WiFi, so you can do this all right from the pool. If necessary, point the screen away from her and tell her you're researching dinner options.

3) FAIRNESS
This question just in: Isn't this 50% my honeymoon, too? Shouldn't I get to do at least a little bit of what I want?? I'll have just spent the last 8-12 months at her beck and call doing whatever she needs for the wedding, no questions asked, because the wedding is all about her. I get that. But the honeymoon? That's my dream vacation just as much as it is hers. And for me, a dream vacation includes at least the minimal amount of time it takes to maintain a fantasy football edge.

My friend Scott had a long-term relationship years before I did, and when I'd tease him about some of the ridiculous things his girlfriend (now wife) made him do, he'd smile and say: "One day you'll understand."

To this point, he's been right on about everything. I guess one day I'll understand.


Weekend Picks
Games of the year in the Big 12, SEC, and Pac-10 on Saturday...and I'll be missing all of them.

Oklahoma (-3.5) vs. Texas (Sat, 3:30 ET). If I keep picking it, one day, it'll happen.

Alabama (-8) vs. Florida (Sat, 8:00 ET). Unfortunately for Greg, who's going to this game (and not to mention the Gators), I think this game ends up looking better on paper than it will in real life.

Stanford (+7) @ Oregon (Sat, 8:00 ET). Ducks' offense has been unstoppable, but Stanford quietly keeps racking up quality wins.

Browns (+3) vs. Bengals (Sun, 1:00 ET). Cleveland's 0-3, but they've played good teams and look ready to break through.

Bears (+4) @ Giants (Sun, 8:20 ET). Bears D looks to have that swagger back. G-Men look like they're ready to quit.

Dolphins (+1) @ Patriots (Mon, 8:30 ET). Probably another "homer" pick for me, but I really think Miami's starting to put things together offensively.

Last Week: 4-2
Season: 11-7-1

FVG Discovers Podcasts

In my never-ending quest to be perfectly efficient, I finally -- two to three years late -- embraced podcasts. I typically resist new technologies as long as I can and hope they go away, until I realize they're here to stay and worth the hassle of learning how to use them. But podcasts made too much sense to continue ignoring. I have 15 minutes of walking each way for my commute, and other than somewhere between three and six burned calories, not much to show for it. If you're telling me I can use that commuting/walking time to listen to a half-hour of Fantasy Football Focus, I just need to know where to sign.

The problem was, I had no idea how to get set up. I had no iPod (yes, I have no iPod), so Lindsey gave me her old one (no, I'll never download a song to it). Then I had to "sync" it to iTunes (which actually wasn't too difficult), and then went to the iTunes store to fill it with content.

This last part was more fun than I'd ever imagined. Pretty much every podcast is free, and you can "subscribe" to them -- meaning they automatically download to your iTunes every time a new one comes out. And there's a podcast for everything! Not only did I get ESPN Fantasy Focus, I got Dolphins OnDemand and Dolphins 'Finsider, too. And while I was at it, I got some newscasts and favorite political shows, which could potentially replace newspapers and magazines for me if all goes well. Who knows, I may never read again!

There's a good chance you're reading this and saying, "No sh*t, FVG. Podcasts are awesome. Welcome to the 21st century." And you're right. But in case you're a fellow boyfriend with limited fantasy research time (and a very late adopter like I am), allow me to suggest podcasts as an efficient way to consume that much more football content without having your girlfriend kill you.

At least, until she realizes you forgot how to read.


Weekend Picks

SMU (+18) vs. TCU (Fri, 8:00 ET). June Jones is turning SMU into the new Hawaii. Except it's not quite as awesome there.

Oregon St. (+18) @ Boise St. (Sat, 8:00 ET). Boise would HAVE to cover this spread to prove their worthy of a shot in the title game. I think it's unlikely.

Arizona St. (+12) vs. Oregon (Sat, 10:30 ET). Linebacker Vontaze Burfict has a cool name, and a defense with the speed to slow down the Ducks.

Chiefs (+2.5) vs. 49ers (Sun, 1:00 ET). I think the wrong team's favored here. Chiefs 2-0 start has to count for something, especially the way they're playing defense.

Lions (+11.5) @ Vikings (Sun, 1:00 ET). What exactly has Minnesota done this year to prove they're 11.5 points better than Detroit?

Houston (-3) vs. Dallas (Sun, 1:00 ET). And by the same token, what has Dallas done to make people think they can hang with what's become one of the top five teams in the league?

Last Week: 3-2-1
Season: 7-5-1 

Ironing, Backrubs, and Other Golden Tickets

Late last season, I was talking to my co-worker Kara about weekend plans, and I asked if she and her husband ever argued over his football-watching.

"Football?" Kara asked.

Yes, football. The sport.

"Ohhhhhh. You mean 'ironing'?"

Apparently many, many seasons ago, Kara and her husband Karl made a deal: Karl could watch all the football he wants, as long as he ironed clothes while he did it.

Genius. Absolute genius.

Karl found his golden ticket: The benefit he can offer his wife in exchange for unlimited viewing pleasure. Karl watches football, which he loves. And Kara never irons again, which she hates. Everybody wins.

But if you hate ironing (as I do), allow me to suggest an alternative: The Backrub.

So easy, a boyfriend can do it.

Not long after Lindsey and I started dating, the backrub became my golden ticket. It was inherently agreed upon that if I was rubbing her back, I had carte blanche with the remote. Football, basketball, SportsCenter, you name it. She doesn't care. She doesn't hear it. Think about when she gets a massage at the spa. Think they have Rachel Zoe playing in the background? Of course not. When she's getting Extreme Backrub: Home Edition, your soft hands are all the sweet music she needs.

Sometimes (OK, rarely), a Mets player will hit a double into the gap (or something of that equivalent in other sports), and I'll get so excited I'll forget to rub for a few seconds. That's the only thing that brings Lindsey out of her trance. I quickly apologize, and go back into mine. I've rubbed for entire halves of football games without even noticing. I can backrub on autopilot.

If, for whatever reason, massages aren't working for you, keep searching. There has to be a skill you can offer her that's sports-watching-friendly. Maybe she hates doing laundry and you don't mind making trips between innings. Maybe she hates paying bills and you make it a Monday Night Football tradition. Maybe you have an unobstructed view from your kitchen, and can watch the game while you cook.

Not everything works (dishes make loud clanking noises, gardening means being outside, etc). It may take some trial and error. But eventually, you'll find your golden ticket. And when you do, nurture it, master it, cherish it, rename your sport after it.

Because "Ironing" beats Real Housewives any day of the week.

Weekend Picks

Arkansas (+2) @ Georgia (Sat, 12:00 ET). Georgia's at home, but Arkansas has better players, and a better coach. Underdog's won four of the last five in this series, too.

Nebraska (-3) @ Washington (Sat, 3:30 ET). Jake Locker gets the Heisman hype, but watch out for true frosh Taylor Martinez in this one.

Iowa (+1) @ Arizona (Sat, 10:30 ET). The Hawkeyes have BCS aspirations this year, and deservedly so.

Ravens (-2.5) @ Bengals (Sun, 1:00 ET). Even though they only scored 10 points, I was impressed with Baltimore's offense last week. They're loaded on both sides this year.

Lions (+6) vs. Eagles (Sun, 1:00 ET). I think Vick will be much less effective when a team has a week to prepare. Too many points.

49ers (+6) vs. Saints (Mon, 8:30 ET). Remember when everyone thought the Niners would be good this year? It was one bad game ago. Look for them to bounce back as home dogs on Monday night.


Last Week: 3-1
Season: 4-3-1

Ramsey Moves Out, and a Special Friend Visits

Ramsey was moving out of our apartment, and in with his girlfriend Annie. But to where? Would she come join him in New York? Or would he go join her in Philly? I went to Dempsey's -- one of our favorite local pubs – to have a beer and mull it over.

As hard as I tried to consider both sides, the decision seemed obvious. Not only are all of Ramsey’s friends are in New York City, but New York's just better. Who cares if Annie's anxious about moving to an overwhelming city she’d otherwise have no interest in? She'll learn to love it, right?

Then I hear a rumbling sound, and the ground starts to shake. Wait a minute. Is that....

LEE CORSO TRIUMPHANTLY BURSTS THROUGH THE DOOR ATOP A SPECTACULAR WHITE HORSE. HE’S CARRYING "MR. MET" MASCOT HEADGEAR IN ONE HAND, AND "PHILLIE PHANATIC" MASCOT HEADGEAR IN THE OTHER.

….Lee Corso?!?!?

HE DISMOUNTS HIS HORSE, PUTS DOWN THE HEADGEAR, AND POINTS A PENCIL IN MY DIRECTION.

"You've got a lot to learn, young man!"

CORSO: Not so fast, my friend!

ME: You don't think New York is the obvious choice for Ramsey?

CORSO: Not only is it not the obvious choice, it’s the wrong choice.

HE GRABS THE STOOL NEXT TO ME AT THE BAR AND TAKES A SIP OF MY BEER.

ME: Please explain.

CORSO: You know football started this week, right?

ME: Right.

CORSO: And you write a freaking blog about it, so you know there's lots of “football vs. girlfriend” arguments coming up, correct?

ME: Correct.

CORSO: And your goal is to win the majority of those arguments, right?

ME: Of course. Where are you going with this, Mr. Corso?

HE TAKES A MASSIVE GULP OF MY BEER, AND SLAMS IT DOWN ON THE BAR.

CORSO: Son, Ramsey has two choices: The first is convincing Annie to live in New York City, but feeling guilty about it the entire time, knowing he asked her to do something she didn’t want to do. And since Annie made the ultimate sacrifice for Ramsey, she automatically wins every football vs. girlfriend argument.

ME (horrified): Automatically?

CORSO: Or they can live in Philly, making Annie happier than a $8000 gift certificate to Forever 21. Now Ramsey’s the one making the sacrifice, meaning he automatically wins every football vs. girlfriend battle.

ME: Fair enough, Lee. But won’t that wear off at some point?

CORSO: Of course! With women, everything does. But football will be over by then, most likely.

ME: Most likely.

HE FINISHES WHAT’S LEFT OF MY BEER.

CORSO: And besides, it’s the right thing to do.

ME: Well I guess I know which headgear you're putting on, then.

CORSO GRABS MR. MET AND PHILLIE PHANATIC HEADGEAR AND PUTS THEM ON THE BAR.

"Mets stink! Mets stink!"

CORSO: If you’ll excuse me…

CORSO PUTS THE PHILLIE PHANATIC HEADGEAR ON HIS HEAD, STANDS UP ON THE BAR, AND STARTS YELLING AT THE NEW YORK CROWD AND DANCING TO THE MUSIC. THE CROWD BOOS BACK. CORSO TAUNTS THEM MERCILESSLY, YELLING “METS CHOKE AGAIN! METS CHOKE AGAIN!” BEFORE TAKING TWO SHOTS OF JAMESON, REMOUNTING HIS HORSE, AND RIDING OFF INTO THE 2ND AVENUE SUNSET.

ME: I guess Ramsey’s moving to Philly.

Weekend Picks

Michigan (+3.5) @ Notre Dame (Sat, 3:30 ET). After running circles around UConn last week, consider me convinced that Denard Robinson is the real deal. I don't see the Irish having any better luck.

Tennessee (+12) vs. Oregon (Sat, 7:00 ET). The Ducks are good, and have really cool uniforms. But 12 points on the road to an always tough SEC team?

Dolphins (-3) @ Bills (Sun, 1:00 ET). My little brother made me put $50 on this game about two months ago, so I've gotta roll with it.

Packers (-3) @ Eagles (Sun, 4:00 ET). Green Bay living up to the hype begins here, hopefully with a Mason Crosby field goal or two for my fantasy team.

Last Week: 1-2-1
Season: 1-2-1

What's In a Name

Every August, we spend absurd amounts of time preparing for our fantasy drafts. Sure, there's money riding on it, but not nearly as much money as the jobs we're neglecting. We read and re-read '32 Questions', check injury reports, and do endless, pointless mock drafts. Finally, we get to the point we feel like we're ready, put down our pencils, and triumphantly sign our teams up for our leagues, where we're first prompted to type in our team name.

Uh oh.

The Team Name. The ultimate measure of creativity. In some ways just as important as the team we draft, because like the players we ultimately pick, everyone's judging. Creativity can be scary and daunting, and this is coming from someone who does it for a living. Why think about a team name ahead of time and give ourselves something else to stress about? We'll just figure out a name when the time comes.

I did some research on the topic -- both on the internet, and past leagues I've been in on Yahoo! -- where I found quite a few recurring types of names that consistently succeed.

So if you're stuck staring at a Team Name prompt and a blinking cursor, here are some options to get you started.

The 'Play on Words Based on an NFL Player's Name' Name
EXAMPLES: Skittles Taste Dwayne Bowe, Texas Chainsaw Massaquoi, Vick in a Box
So much potential here. NFL players tend to have great names, and also seem to do stupid things on a daily basis. This well never dries up.

The 'Play On Words Based On Your Own Name' Name
EXAMPLES: The Jack Attack, Cleveland Stephens
You're restricted to your own name, and your non-headline-making life. But it still works, and it's often funny. And the bonus is that everyone immediately knows it's your team, avoiding any potential confusion.

The 'Making Fun of Someone Else in the League' Name
EXAMPLES: Chet's Gay, McGee Pees Sitting Down
Another tried-and-true technique, but to my point above, beware of confusion. "Chet's Gay" might be you, but people's brains will always go to Chet. And Chet may be a lot less willing to do in-season trades with you, putting you at a competitive disadvantage.

The 'Over the Top Vulgar' Name
EXAMPLES: (Not included, this is a family blog)
Quite popular in my league. If you're planning to go this route, make sure you have an understanding girlfriend, because she WILL find out at some point, whether she means to or not.

Inside Jokes
EXAMPLES: (I could put some, but you wouldn't get it)
My favorite example of this: My little brother and his friend Chris (who were ten years old at the time) were asking me about Alcatraz for a book report. I explained that it used to be a prison, but now it's defunct. They had no idea what defunct meant, so I explained that too. Things quickly got boring, so we started talking about something else. A month later, Robby told me Chris' team name: "The Defunct Alcatrazes". Don't even try and tell me that's not funny.

The 'I'm Not Creative so I'm Not Even Gonna Try' Name
EXAMPLES: The Punishers, Jeff
I actually have heart for this strategy, and in a weird way, I end up finding these names funny. These people know who they are, and they're not ashamed of it. No complaints here.

The 'Name You Used Last Year' Name
EXAMPLES: (depends)
A monster cop-out, and I'm ashamed to say I've been guilty of it. It's tempting if your team has a good year (or a good name) to want to keep it. But trust me, it loses its luster. Anything different, no matter how bad, is better than the status quo.

In closing, there's probably nothing you can think of that hasn't been thought of already, so don't beat yourself up over it. I think the most important thing is to write something you'll enjoy saying all year. If you set the bar too high, you're just gonna drive yourself nuts. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a fantasy team name to think of.


FVG Picks are Back!

Utah (-3) vs. Pittsburgh (Thursday, 8:30 ET). No better way to start off the year than betting against Dave Wannstedt.

USC (-21) @ Hawaii (Thursday, 11:00 ET). USC had a rough offseason, to put it lightly. Trojans take it out on the Rainbows in a big way.

UConn (+3) @ Michigan (Saturday, 3:30 ET). Ridiculous. How much does one team have to overachieve and the other underachieve before spreads start reflecting it?

Boise State (PK) vs. Virginia Tech (in Landover, MD, Monday, 8:00 ET). Why do they always play these "neutral site" games 5 miles from one team and 3,000 miles from the other? It makes no sense. Anyway, I still like Boise. V-Tech's rebuilding on defense, and this isn't a good place to start.

Don't Blame Canada

It's not much of a secret that American sports have a July/August problem. They get away with it because the weather's great, and most of us are out of the house anyway. But still, if an alternative was out there -- say, a legitimate, entertaining football league that started in late June -- we'd all be a lot happier.

Little did I know, it already exists.

You just have to think north of the border.

This week my job took me to Vancouver, and Vancouver took me to a magical place I had heard about, but never really experienced: The land of the CFL. Don't laugh. By being a reader of my blog, I assume you consider me a legit football fan, and I'm telling you, the CFL is a real-deal July/August band-aid until NFL and college football start. Here's why:

1) Passion and Tradition. According to a recent Sporting News article, Canadians are more passionate about hockey than ANY country is about ANY sport. That means potential. Hockey can't be year-round, and in the summer, something has to fill the void. Everywhere you go, sports bars are packed, and stadiums are filled. And don't mistake the CFL for an XFL-type fad. They've been around since 1958. Many of their teams pre-date ours.

2) Quality of Play. You don't need to take my word for it, just use your memory. Remember All-American wideout Adarius Bowman from Oklahoma State? Jarious Jackson from Notre Dame? They play here. And when you watch Cam Wake rack up 12+ sacks this fall, remember that before he was a Dolphin, he was a B.C. Lion.

3) Awesome Team Names. Some of the Lions' opponents this year include The Winnipeg Blue Bombers, Edmonton Eskimos, Saskatchewan Rough Riders. Aren't those great? Would ANY team name not sound awesome after "Saskatchewan"?

4) You Can Watch It. The NFL Network carries CFL now. But if you're like me (and the rest of the world) and can't get the NFL Network, you can still watch every game for free on your laptop with www.atdhe.net (which also lets you watch ANY live sporting event, for that matter -- a prospect so mind-blowing I still haven't wrapped my head around it).

5) You Can Bet on It. I don't need to waste time explaining why (budgeted and within reason) betting changes everything. In fact, had I lost on the Rough Riders my first night instead of winning, it's quite possible I would've never written this column.

6) Innovative Rules. Bigger fields with more players (wide-open action), three downs instead of four (more risk-taking), up to five players in motion before the snap (more offensive possiblities), points for drilling punts through the uprights (more scoring), and my personal fave: every roster must have at least 12 Canadians (more Canadians).

7) More Fights. Fights come with the territory here in hockey country, and there's nothing the league could (or would) do about it. I wouldn't want this for the NFL, but it's pretty darn entertaining nonetheless.

So when you're sitting on the couch on another sweltering July/August evening, sulking because your favorite baseball team sucks, blame your team for sucking. Blame baseball for being miserable. Blame the NFL for not starting sooner. Heck, blame yourself for not searching harder for a solution.

Just don't blame Canada.

The Last Untucked Year

He must be 30...

I turned 29 yesterday, and as Lindsey declared years ago, that means the period from now until August 5th, 2010 for me is The Last Untucked Year. You might think this is some sort of metaphor for the last before I have to get my act together, but it isn't.

It literally means I have 364 more days before I have to start tucking my shirt in.

I've heard of bucket lists, but I had no idea any sort of 'before-30' lists existed. Apparently you also can't ask friends to help you move anymore, or have a bottle opener on your keychain. Sure enough, AskMen.com also recently posted a "Top Ten Things Men Shouldn't Do After 30" list. It's overly-general and rather uncreative, but sure enough, number 1 is "Stop dressing like a slob." If nothing else, my girlfriend is prescient.

Anyway, back to what this means for me. I have longish legs and a smallish torso: When I tuck in my shirt, I look and feel stupid. Will I feel any different a year from now? What if I don't? Will I feel stupid every day? Should I just get rid of my mirror?

I guess it's all part of falling in love, though. I mean, I relinquished control of my hair long ago, and I still haven't gotten used to how Lindsey likes it. But she clearly cares more than I do, and let's be honest: There are more important battles to fight.

Now I face a lifetime of shirt-tucking purgatory, which -- amongst other things -- means I can no longer get away with wearing my little brother's old high school football belt every day. It's daunting, and it makes me nervous every time I think about it.

So I just think about preseason quarterback rankings instead.


Friday Night Lights Season Finale Pick

Dillon (-14) vs. East Dillon (8:00 ET): I know it's a TV show, but come on, East Dillon couldn't even field a team a few weeks ago, and Luke Cafferty isn't playing. I hope I'm wrong, but I think the Panthers roll.

Eat, Pray, Love Fantasy Football

I work in advertising. I'm fully aware of "targeted" ads that know terrifying amounts about us and suggest products accordingly. But I got one on Facebook yesterday that definitely got my attention. It said:

"Matt, you've watched enough sports this summer. Time to take her to see 'Eat, Pray, Love'!"

And then it had a "Like" button, and listed my friends that "Like" the movie.

The first thing I thought was: Wait a second, I've watched enough sports this summer? Do you read this blog? Hang out with me this fall, Mr. Web-Targeting Smarty Pants, then you'll know what "enough" sports is. Second, my girlfriend does NOT want me to take her to this movie. She wants to go with Val. Or maybe her sister. Perhaps even both. Basically, anyone but me. So again, you're barking up the wrong tree.

Third of all, even though it won't work this time, I've got to hand it to you: We don't see enough of this outside-the-box thinking in advertising today; this "reverse-boyfriend/girlfriend" targeting strategy. I think it has real potential.

In fact, I went ahead and came up with one for Lindsey:

"Lindsey, 

You've watched enough 'Kourtney and Khloe Take Miami' this summer. Time to dedicate the next month and a half of your life to helping him prepare for his fantasy football draft! You see, he's decided Draft Preparation season officially starts today (because he's sick of waiting, and because the Mets haven't scored in a week). He's going to need a minimum of four (4) fantasy preview magazines, as well as a college football preview magazine for when he needs a break!

Also, he's not going to be thinking about much other than his fantasy draft for the next 45-or-so days, so he's gonna need you to not get annoyed with him, ever! If you catch him deep in thought and ask him what he's thinking about (like girlfriends often do), be ready for an answer like "I'm wondering if Ben Tate can really win the Texans' RB job" and then remain even-tempered, because that's what a good girlfriend would do!"

Like?

To Bike or Not to Bike?

A few weeks ago, when Lindsey told me her roommate Maria was getting a bike, I instinctively grabbed my phone to text her something obnoxious. I've never been a fan of bikers.

But I’m also trying to be more open-minded lately. And in two months, I'll be moving to Stuyvesant Town: A nightmare crosstown-bus commute from my office. Was it time to stop being stubborn and give it a shot? To become what I've despised? Let's consider the pros and cons, shall we?

PRO: It’s efficient.

Maria recently started at the same agency as me.  She says her commute by bike is twenty minutes. From their house it takes me almost forty. That’s a difference of an inning of the Mets, half a quarter of Monday Night Football, and perhaps even getting home in time to see what breathtakingly ugly suit Walt Frazier wore to the Knicks’ game.

CON: It’s inefficient.

This goes with why I don’t like driving: You can’t accomplish anything while you do it.  You can't read, write, text, talk on the phone, etc. It’s pure wasted time. (For the record, I don’t count listening to music as accomplishing something. And even if you do, I don't recommended biking through NYC without the ability to hear an oncoming hybrid cab.)

PRO: It’s good exercise.

CON: It’s really not.

As Britney Spears once said, ‘Sometimes I run’.  And sometimes I bike. The former is hard. The latter isn’t.  That is, unless you’re doing hills, which 1) suck and 2) aren't in Manhattan.

PRO: It’s cute, like a little pet.

Maria’s bike is adorable: It's a 1993 BMX Mongoose that's way too small and has pegs for doing tricks. She said that in just one ride downtown, she got hollered at three different times by potential suitors. If you get the right bike, you will attract interest. There’s no doubt about it. It’s a steel-framed French Bulldog puppy.  

CON: It’s a pain in the ass, like a little pet.

While you’re looking for a place to keep your bike, I'm either taking your place in line, drinking the last of the milk, or getting the better seat for the game. And, unlike a pet, your bike can’t love you back.

PRO: It saves money.

A 30-Day Unlimited subway pass is $89 and getting higher by the month. Biking continues to be free.

*CON: It costs money. 

I was gonna write that bikes are expensive, but I checked online, and they’re really not. You can get one for 1-2 months worth of subway passes (then tack on another month's worth for a helmet and bike lock). Three months of biking makes your money back, then it's all savings from there.** Hence the asterisk.

**The asterisk to the asterisk represents the impulse buy you'll inevitably make after getting overexcited about your new means of transportation. For Maria, it was this $45 portable bike basket.

PRO: It’s kinda fun.

In the right scenario (good scenery, no hills, a nice breeze, someone to bike with, a silly-sounding bell), biking is an enjoyable alternative to walking/running.

CON: It’s kinda hard.

I have legitimate trouble 1) stopping, 2) starting, 3) switching gears, and 4) taking my hand off the handlebars without veering into traffic. Perhaps this is all what my roommate Ramsey would call a “you problem”, but still, you have to admit…

CON: It’s legitimately dangerous.

Civilian NYC drivers are in a permanent state of road rage. Cab drivers navigate the streets like they’re playing Grand Theft Auto. Pedestrians refuse to walk where (and when) they’re supposed to. All of them are doing something on their cellphones. Even if you are obeying the laws of traffic (which would make you the first biker I’ve met to ever do so), you’re still a two-wheeled accident waiting to happen. 

PRO: Mayor Bloomberg and environmentally-responsible people everywhere will love you.

When people pick up a newspaper and see a picture of you riding in the bike lane on 23^rd street, they’ll think, “Wow, now that city's doing it right.  I’m proud of that person.”

CON: Everyone else will hate you.
When people in real life see you riding in the bike lane on 23rd street (or more likely, going the wrong way down a one-way street, running a red light because it 'looks clear', or -- my personal favorite -- weaving your way through the sidewalks)....well, you don't want to know what they're thinking.

THE VERDICT: It was definitely closer than I thought, but for now, FVG will continue to remain bike-less.

The Revenge of Brian Allen

Of all the soccer games I’ve ever been to (not many), the most memorable by far was one of my brother’s third-grade rec games, when his best friend Brian was being persistently harassed by a bully on the other team. This bully pushed Brian around any chance he got, and it was driving him nuts. He kept complaining to the refs, but they refused to do anything about it. Finally, Brian spontaneously combusted. He gave himself a 30-foot head start, sprinted toward the (much) larger bully as fast as he could, and barreled into him with all his might.

And bounced off of him, onto the grass. 

Now Brian was really steaming. Everyone was staring at him, and he didn’t know how to react. So he did the unthinkable. He grabbed his ball (and his dad was the coach, so it actually was his ball) and ran home -- past the field, through the trees, down a road behind the school -- crying and yelling third-grade-level obscenities the entire time.

It was the single-greatest temper tantrum I’ve ever witnessed.

And the best part? Once everyone had recovered from their unadulterated shock over what just happened, they realized the ball Brian ran off with was the only ball on the field!  Not until Brian’s mom got in her car, drove around searching for him, and finally found him a half-mile down the road could anyone play again. Until then, everyone just stood around, not sure what to do next. Whether young Brian had realized it or not, he had exacted the ultimate revenge not just on the referees, not just on the bully who’d been fouling him, but on the entire game and everyone associated with it. 

Which brings us to this morning, and yet another goal taken from the U.S. soccer team by the 100%-worthless FIFA referees. Sure, bad calls are part of the game. And the U.S. can and will continue to fight back. The way we came through in extra time today to advance was too good for words. Americans take pride in overcoming adversity, and this morning, we did it in a big freaking way. Our players have handled themselves with class, and in my opinion, have been an absolute treat to watch this entire tournament. 

But in order to the win the ultimate prize – for U.S. Soccer to really “arrive” on the global stage – we have more games to win. And I just fear the powers that be won’t let it happen. I wrote an entire post a few weeks ago about the various ways this sport isn't fair, but I wasn’t even factoring in officiating biases against certain teams. We’re playing 11-on-15 out there, game after game. Eventually -- and I hope I'm wrong -- it’s too much for even our guys to overcome. 

And if and when that happens – if we get screwed again on the world’s biggest stage – I think it’s time for us to adopt the Brian Allen strategy. It’s time for us to pick up our ball and go home. Enough is enough. If you don’t want us to be good at this sport, FIFA, then fine. We’ve got other ones. We’ll be fine. You can have your “beautiful” game. 

But good luck finding another ball. 

On Cab Drivers, Cleveland, and LeBron's Big Day

July 1^st is right around the corner.  And every fan in New York knows what that means: It’s the day LeBron James’ contract with the Cavs officially terminates, and The King takes his first steps toward joining our beloved Knicks.  At least, that’s what we think.  For a more objective, nuanced opinion, I wanted to hear what the other side thinks.  And with a work trip to Cleveland on this week's docket, I had a perfect chance to do some primary research.

It's not just another day in Cleveland.

One thing I quickly found out for sure: Cleveland’s trying. A flash mob of 200 people gathered at Tower City yesterday (pictured) for a massive song-and-dance sales pitch.  In nearby Akron (James’ hometown), a huge rally is planned tomorrow for “LeBron Appreciation Day”.  And on the day he becomes a free agent, an Indians’ minor league team – the Lake County Captains – is changing its name to the LeLake LeCounty LeCaptains, and every player’s name will add a “Le” at the beginning.  Cleveland wants us to know they’re fighting, and that they fully expect to win.

But the word on the street?  Not quite as hopeful.  Granted, I only spoke to a small sample -- and a large proportion of it was cab drivers -- but still, the results were surprisingly unanimous:

“He’s going.  To New York.  More money.”

“I didn’t think he could say no to the extra $30 mill (he'd get for staying in Cleveland), until Izzo turned down the coaching job.  He must've known LeBron's leaving.”

“I don’t know.  It's tough.  I think he’s leaving.  Probably Chicago.  Maybe New York.”

"You know what?  He's gonna do what he's gonna do.  Bye."

"I'd go if I were him.  He'll make twice as much in New York in endorsements."

"New York?  They buy him?  I heard that.  Guess how old I am?"

This all, of course, was exactly what I was hoping to hear.  But I have to admit, at the time, I felt a little guilty.  Like we were stealing from these people.  People who hadn't experienced a championship (in any sport) in the last 50 years.  I liked Cleveland.  I think it's underrated.  It's quiet.  It's clean.  The people are nice.  One night we went to an Indians game (who by an incredible stroke of luck, were playing the Mets).  Another night we went to Lola, a delicious new restaurant on East 4th Street, which was like a smaller, cleaner, G-rated Bourbon Street.  We walked along the Cuyahoga.  We passed the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  Cleveland's a proud city.  Tough, yet polite, seemingly just waiting for its big break.

On my way to the airport, I talked up the cab driver again.  I asked him if he'd watched last night's spectacular Celtics-Lakers Game 7.  I figured it'd be a good lead-in.

"Nah," he said.  "I watched the History Channel."
"Really?" I asked.  "The History Channel?"
"Yeah."
"Well...why?"
"You already know what's gonna happen," he said, very matter-of-fact.  "You know who wins, and you know who loses.

"That way you can't get your heart broken."

Be Honest...Do You REALLY Love the World Cup?

The World Cup is coming soon. The "Greatest Sporting Event on Earth". If you somehow didn't know that already, pick up a sports magazine: They'll be at least three articles reminding you. We should love the World Cup, the argument goes, because the rest of the world does.

Well the rest of the world also loves a good halibut.  Doesn't mean I do.

I'm not saying I don't love the World Cup.  Well, I guess that's sort of what I'm saying.  OK that is what I'm saying.  I really like the World Cup, and I promise when the time comes, I have every intention of joining the bandwagon.  But love? FVG doesn't just throw that word around. When an event's best form of seduction is, "Look how much EVERYONE ELSE loves it", it might get my attention, but it won't make me weak in the knees.

Since the original Tea Party -- and to some extent, the one of today -- we Americans make it clear that we're not to be told how to live and what to be excited about.  So while many of us will tune in June 11th (Mexico vs. the hosting South Africans) and June 12th (U.S. vs. England), once it's 87 minutes in and nobody's scored yet, we'll all quickly remember why we spend the other three years and eleven months watching something else.

This is the classic theory why Americans don't love soccer: We think it's boring. We're too addicted to super-sizing and instant gratification to appreciate what a "beautiful" game it is. And maybe we are.  After all, if a game ends up 0-0, it doesn't matter what happened.  Nothing happened.

But I also don't think this tells the whole story. Americans aren't the only ones with short attention spans. The biggest reason Americans don't love soccer isn't because it's unexciting, it's because it's unfair.

The less scoring there is in a sport, the better the chances that the team that deserves to win doesn't. If this "beautiful" game is as "important" as the rest of the world says it is, how can they possibly be alright with their team dominating a game and losing on one fluke play? 

And what about the red cards?  There's no sillier rule in sports: When a player gets ejected for a red card (which is usually thanks to the ridiculously prevalent yet somehow condoned injury-faking), he can't be replaced for the rest of the game, even if it just started! This kept the U.S. from having ANY chance of beating Italy (and advancing past Round 1) in 2006, and considering we're not exactly the world's most popular country, I expect it to happen again in 2010. Can you imagine Rasheed Wallace getting his 2nd tech toward the end of the first half and the Celtics having to play 4 on 5 the rest of the way? The "beautiful" game comes down to who does a better job faking injuries and insulting his opponent's mother/sister to the point of getting head-butted. This isn't a stretch.  This really decided the last World Cup.

Another injustice: No game played that hard for that long with that much on the line (remember: people in other countries KILL over this) should so frequently come down to penalty kicks.  Regular season, fine. But not the World Cup. Hockey playoffs? They play it out. Fifth set of Wimbledon? Play 'til ya can't anymore. Even NFL overtimes (which I can't believe I'm defending) make you score against a defense. 

And what's the most important skill needed to win one of these shootouts?  Guessing!  The shooters kick from way too close for goalies to be able to react, so they're left to make the split-second, gun-to-your-head choice between diving to their right and diving to their left. And then praying. At what point did someone decide this was an appropriate way to end anything, let alone the "Greatest Sporting Event in the World"?

One thing the World Cup does have going for it though, is timing. The NBA Finals end the second week in June, precisely when the Cup starts. Coincidence? Yes, but I'll take it. The World Cup is a just as boring yet way more globally relevant (and therefore, indirectly interesting) alternative to baseball, and keeps us that much more entertained until July 11th.

Just about the time we can start talking fantasy football.

Why She's Probably Rooting Against You

In the beginning of Major League, Indians’ General Manager Charlie Donovan meets with new owner Rachel Phelps to hear her vision for the team.  As he tries to wrap his head around her outrageous plan to decrease attendance to the point where she could opt out of her lease and relocate the team to Miami, it hits the heart-broken Donovan like a 95-mph fastball to the ribs.

“What are you saying? You want us to lose?”

Phelps isn’t the first woman to secretly root against the team she’s supposed to love.  And she won’t be the last.  After all, it’s sound strategy for girlfriends who – let’s be honest – can only take so much baseball.  Losing leads to sadness, and sadness leads to disinterest.   

And disinterest leads to her getting the clicker.

On a night the Mets win, I excitedly stay tuned for the postgame, pore over the box score, and even tolerate Baseball Tonight. 

But on nights they lose, I check out completely.  “Sure, babe, turn on Anthony Bourdain.  Heck, turn on Real Housewives.  It’s fine.  I’ll read the paper.”

The game doesn’t even need to be over for our interest to wane.  My friend Chad has what he calls “the 3-run rule”: He stops watching the Red Sox if they fall behind 3 runs or more.  “It’s just not enjoyable,” he says.  My threshold’s slightly higher than that, but still, other than hearing Keith, Ron, and Gary take calls from Jimmy in Long Island and Seth in White Plains, there’s not much to love about games the Mets are getting pummeled.

(Does this make us fair-weather fans, by the way?  I don’t think so.  It's like when your dog cuts himself and has to wear a lampshade on his head so he won’t lick the wound.  You still love him – you’d just prefer not to see him that way.) 

In the end, of course, the too-heartwarming-to-fail Indians turn things around, fans come out in droves, and Phelps’ devious plan is foiled.  But the average girlfriend isn’t thinking so big.  She doesn’t want to steal your team.  She doesn’t even want you to be sad.  All she wants is a night without baseball.

Can you really blame her for that?

FVG Critics' Review: Basketball Wives

One of Lindsey's favorite shows these days is Keeping Up With the Kardashians, on the E! network.  Normally I hate this show, EXCEPT when Khloe Kardashian's husband -- a.k.a Lakers' forward Lamar Odom -- makes an appearance.  Then I'm interested.

So when I saw an ad for Basketball Wives, a new reality show on Vh1, I dared to dream that the network had struck FVG gold.  Real Housewives meets NBA Basketball?  Kardashians with permanent Lamar Odom cameos? Could this finally be the show BOTH of us DVR?

The brainchild, executive producer, and star of the show is Shaunie O'Neal, fresh off her highly publicized divorce from Shaquille O'Neal, a player who needs no introduction, and isn't given one: We never see him. Shaunie flies to Miami to meet up with her friends and fellow cast members, whom we're introduced to one by one.

-Jennifer Williams (wife of ex-NBA player Eric Williams)
-Suzie Ketcham (ex-wife of ex-NBA player Michael Olowokandi)
-Evelyn Lozada (ex-fiancé of ex-NBA player Antoine Walker)
-Gloria Govan (fiancé of NBA player Matt Barnes)
-Royce Reed (mother of NBA player Dwight Howard's son)

If you think you read that wrong, you didn't. Not one of the "wives" is actually married to a current NBA basketball player. And one of them really is Dwight Howard's baby mama, and yes, she's the designated crazy one -- getting scolded in the premiere for inappropriate dancing with a stripper pole.

At the first commercial break, I asked Lindsey how Wives compared with her beloved Real Housewives.

"Are you kidding?  It doesn't compare. It's a lie. None of them are actually wives of a basketball player!"

I reminded her that Real Housewives at times was a misnomer, too, as some of the housewives had jobs, and others weren't actually married.

"Well whatever," she said. "The Real Housewives have personalities. These women sound like they're reading a script."

I agree. While all reality shows stretch the truth, this misrepresentation cut deeper. You can't base an entire show on a single premise and have it immediately prove to be false. It's like doing a reality show on midgets and having them all turn out to be tall (Wait, does that exist already?). Reality TV works best when it at least feels A LITTLE real, and then lets one or two TRULY crazy -- not reading-from-a-script crazy -- characters take over.

And besides, the show sucked.

FVG Grade: F

The Oklahoma City Thunder: FVG's '09-'10 Most Valuable Team

With a starting five averaging 23 years of age and zero games of playoff experience, it's unlikely the Oklahoma City Thunder will win, or even make it to this year's NBA Finals.  In fact, there's a pretty good chance they'll lose in the first-round.  But as far as Football vs. Girlfriend's concerned, that's irrelevant.  It's icing on the cake.

The Thunder are FVG's 2009-2010 Most Valuable Team.

What makes OKC the obvious choice?  Let's consider the usual "Most Valuable" criteria...

Can you win without them?  I'll put it this way.  If Lindsey (a proud native Oklahoman) is over and the Thunder aren't playing, we're watching 'Kell on Earth'.  My record of getting to watch basketball with Linds on a night the Thunder aren't (isn't?) playing?  Somewhere in New Jersey Nets territory.

Are they consistent?  Any team can be exciting enough to convince Lindsey to watch for a night. There's a whole host of storylines I can fabricate.  But like a patchwork pitching staff, it won't get you through a season.  The Thunder, however, are a joy to watch night in and night out.  This team doesn't take nights off.  And therefore, neither do I. 

Are they winners?  The New York Knicks are my favorite basketball team.  But for Knicks' fans, this season was over before it started.  There was NO WAY I could justify watching the Knicks to Lindsey.  I had enough trouble watching myself.  That's why the Thunder's remarkable turnaround in the wins column was so crucial.  Women lose patience with guys that don't work, clothes that don't match, and teams that don't win.  It's just the way it is.

Likability factor.  In 1947, Ted Williams lost the MVP race to Joe DiMaggio despite winning the league's Triple Crown.  Why?  A Boston Globe reporter left him off his ballot entirely, because he didn't like him.  Voters are human, and they have feelings too.  Fortunately, likability could be the Thunder's strongest suit of all. Take this quote from one of today's preeminent sportswriters, Bill Simmons:

"This is something like my 10th or 11th year with NBA Season Pass. I've never gotten attached to a non-Celtics team before, and I've never played favorites if there were multiple non-Boston games happening at the same time. This year? I find myself gravitating toward Thunder games night after night. It's a real team. They like one another. They're better as a group than they are as individuals. And (Kevin) Durant is the most special non-LeBron talent in basketball. Not only is there nobody like him, but there's also never been anyone like him..."

I sent this quote to Lindsey the other day.  I send her anything positive I read about the Thunder.

"Ooooo, so exciting!" she replied.

Sounds like a girl ready to watch every playoff game!

GUEST POST: Yankees Suck, But Not Really.

by Robby Herman

I know, spring is upon us, the weather is starting to turn, Opening Day is right around the corner.  But I just don’t feel the same excitement this year.  I’m guessing this might have something to do with the fact that I am a fan of the lowly, incapable-of-doing-anything-right New York Mets.

Usually around this time, whether the experts predict it or not, I have a feeling that “this is the Mets’  year”, or “the NL East is the Mets’ to lose”.  But this year is different.  I don’t see any scenario in which the Mets can even challenge the Phillies in the division, let alone make a run for the World Series.  Even if Johan wins the Cy Young, which he will, and even if Reyes finally breaks out, which he will, there just aren’t enough weapons for this to be a playoff team.  In fact, the best thing going for the Mets might just be the Cascarino’s Pizza sold at the upper level of Citi Field.

I'm not usually one to admit that I've lost an argument.  Just ask my dad.  After 3 seasons of Jets' running back Thomas Jones rushing for over 1,000 yards, I still insist that he is the worst running back in the NFL, and maybe of all time.  But I have been arguing with my arrogant Yankee fan friends for years that the Mets are the superior team in New York.  And I finally admit that I am wrong.

Sure, the Yankees have 17 times as much money as any other team in baseball, and can therefore purchase any player they want.  And yes, 75% of their players are on steroids (I’m looking at you, Mr. Rodriguez).  But overall, they are pretty damn good.

Let’s take a look at Yankees vs. Mets, position-by-position.

Catcher: Jorge Posada vs. God Knows Who…Advantage: Yankees.  I’ve never been too fond of Jorge, but he still seems to be a safe bet for 20 homers a year.  Plus, it doesn’t take much to beat out the Mets’ catcher(s).  They’ve signed about 5 this offseason, and I’ve never heard of any of them.  And I follow baseball pretty closely.

First Base: Mark Teixeira vs. sigh..Daniel Murphy…Advantage: Yankees.  I hate Teixeira.  Everything about him.  The way he runs, the way he looks, the way he swings.  But his numbers don’t lie.  As for Murphy, so much fuss is made about his work ethic and his passion for the game.  But who cares? I could have those same attributes too!  You just can’t start for a whole year and only manage to drive in 63 runs.

Second Base: Robinson Cano vs. Luis Castillo…Advantage: Tie.  Cano’s stats may look better, but when you look up “clutch” in the dictionary, his picture is nowhere to be found.  I remember a stretch last year when he went 0-17 with RISP and 2 outs.  Impressive.  Meanwhile, Luis quietly hit .302 last year, and was one of the Mets’ only consistent bats.

Shortstop: Derek Jeter vs. Jose Reyes…Advantage: Yankees, for now.  One is a surefire Hall of Famer, the other will be in 10 years.  Mark my words.  Reyes hasn’t lived up to the hype yet, but his combination of power, speed, and the strongest arm known to man, will come through this year, and for many years in the future.  But until he wins a championship, or three, he’s not in Jeter’s class.

Third Base: Alex Rodriguez vs. David Wright…Advantage: Yankees. A-Rod is the best hitter in the game not named Albert Pujols.  Wright is not.  Enough about him being “Mr. Met”, and “the face of the franchise”.  He hit 10 home runs and had 72 RBIS last year.  That is flat out embarrassing for a “star” like him.

Outfield: Brett Gardner, Curtis Granderson, and Nick Swisher vs. Jason Bay, Carlos Beltran, and Jeff Francoeur…Advantage: Mets.  Wow.  Advantage: Mets.  That felt good to type.  Now that I think about it, the Yankees outfield sucks.  For a team paying its players more than 200 million dollars a year, that’s a pretty pedestrian bunch.  I know, Beltran’s out for the beginning of the season after his mysterious surgery, but the Mets still have the edge with the big bats of Bay and Francoeur.

Starting Pitching: CC Sabathia, A.J. Burnett, Andy Pettitte, Javier Vazquez, and Phil Hughes vs. Johan Santana, John Maine, Mike Pelfrey, Oliver Perez, and Jonathan Niese…Advantage: Yankees.  One thing I will never admit is that CC is better than Johan.  In fact, no one is better than Johan.  No one has ever been better than Johan, and no one will ever be better than Johan.  But other than that, the Mets have had the same staff for what feels like a decade, and it’s never been good before.  What’s gonna change now?

Closer: Mariano Rivera vs. Francisco Rodriguez…Advantage: Yankees.  Only the Mets could take a 62 save guy and make him bad.  K-Rod had 35 saves, but a 3.71 ERA is pretty ugly and he never seemed to close the big games.  Not that there were many big games last year.  Meanwhile, Rivera’s the best to ever play the position.

The Yanks are loaded at almost every position; the Mets are not.  Even someone as stubborn as myself can’t honestly think the Mets are a better baseball team.  Just don’t let my Yankee fan friends know I’m saying this.  That would be the first argument I’ve ever “lost”.

Baseball: America's Relationship-Friendly Pastime

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know I like to tease baseball and give it a hard time.  But for all its flaws (too long, too boring, too nerdy, too confusing to bet on, etc.), baseball will always have a place in my heart.  It was the first sport I fell in love with, and to be honest, it still has a lot going for it.

Like, if getting along with your girlfriend or wife is important to you, baseball's the best sport there is.

To understand why, we must become familiar with the terms watchability and missability.  Watchability is the degree to which we can enjoy watching a game.  Missability is the degree to which we're OK with missing it.  Usually they're inversely related: Games with high missability (preseason basketball, golf) tend to have low watchability, and games with high watchability (NFL Sundays, March Madness) tend to have low missability.

And low missability is the #1 cause of fights with your girlfriend.

That brings us to baseball.  Now, I'm not going to pretend baseball's an easy sport to sit through.  It isn't.  But when your favorite team's playing, it absolutely is.  For me, Mets' games are pleasant, enjoyable, and never require my full attention.  As long as the Mets are playing -- and with the exception of the occasional travel day, they are -- baseball is very watchable.

Yet, at the same time, it behooves me to remember that that baseball game I'm watching is merely one out of 162!  That's roughly the equivalent of just six minutes of an NFL football game!  Know how your coach used to tell you after a tough loss "It's OK, it was just one game"? Well, in baseball, they mean it.  A single baseball game -- as exciting as a walk-off home run (or as agonizing as a bullpen-blown lead) can be -- just isn't a very big deal.  And that's what makes it so missable.

No other sport is so highly watchable and missable at the same time.  I can and will always enjoy spending an evening alone with the Mets (until around early August when they're mathematically eliminated), yet I'll never feel too disappointed if I can't.

What could be more relationship-friendly than that?

Gushing Over Gus

Anyone who watched the KSU-Xavier thriller last night went to bed knowing they saw the best game of what’s been the best NCAA tournament in years.  They know as far as sports go, last night was as good as it gets.  Why?  Well, it went to double overtime, but lots of games go to double overtime.  It was a classic duel between two great players, but lots of games are classic duels between two great players.  It had clutch plays and buzzer beaters, but lots of games have clutch plays and buzzer beaters. Don’t get me wrong: these things made the game great.

But what made it the best was Gus Johnson.

WOW!!!

I never paid much attention to who was calling a game until recently, and I think it’s mostly because none of them ever stood out to me.  And I mean that as a compliment.  Announcers, generally, should be like umpires, shot-clock operators, and long-snappers: They’re best when you don’t notice them.

But Gus is a different story.  Gus doesn’t call a game, he lives it.  He’s the announcing equivalent of Allen Iverson – he leaves everything he has on the floor.  I know I haven’t been around that long, but I’m pretty certain no other announcer today, or ever, comes close to matching his energy. 

And it’s totally genuine!  When we listen to Gus and hear him go bonkers, we don’t think he’s doing it to steal the show from the players, we think he’s doing it because he loves what he’s seeing!  He really thinks the action is that remarkable.  His passion seems to know no end.  A third-grade soccer game could get him excited.

Watch someone watch a Gus Johnson game.  Whether their team’s winning or losing, I guarantee you they're smiling.  Gus is so lovable and infectious, you forget who you’re rooting for.  You just don’t want the game to end.

The number one trending name on Twitter last night wasn’t Crawford or Pullen, it was Johnson.  All of the sudden, people are interested in announcers.  “Who’s gonna call the Final Four?” they want to know.  “Is it Gus?”  “If not, WHY?”

Good question.  CBS hasn’t announced the lineup yet, but it’d be a shame if it wasn’t Gus.  I mean, it’s not like we wouldn’t watch, of course.  It’s the Final Four.  The Pinnacle.  The Last Dance.  The End of the Road.  Nothing beats the Final Four.

Except the Final Four with Gus Johnson.

Powerless

One day last May, I was sitting at work when I got a call from my little brother, Robby.  He was bubbling with excitement.

"Bro," he said.  "Can you believe there's only 149 days until college basketball starts??"

Robby talks, studies, and obsesses about college basketball more than anyone not named Vitale.  He finishes his homework by 7:00 every night -- not because he's a good boy, but because that's when the first games start.  If the work isn't done, he'll wake up early and finish it in the morning.

So when all of Southern Connecticut lost power just hours before the NCAA Tournament Selection Show -- thanks to the worst storm the state had seen in thirty years -- I felt bad for the families forced to temporarily relocate to hotels, and the women forced to go to friends' houses to shower and do their hair.  

But there was no one I felt worse for than Robby.

He'd dreamed about seeing these brackets for months.  He studied Joe Lunardi's Bracketology on ESPN.com every day, calling me with hypothetical matchups, asking me who I'd take.  And now they were out for real -- on television and computer screens everywhere -- and the kid who'd been looking forward to them the most couldn't see them.  

There was nothing he could do.  

What did Robby do to deserve this?  Did he piss off the gods in a previous life?  Over-indulgence is a deadly sin.  Was this his punishment for being over-obsessed with sports?  I'm over-obsessed with sports.  Should I be worried, too?

Or maybe the issue is that kids have become too reliant on technology.  When I was Robby's age (I know, I sound so old), I got my scores from a newspaper.  He could do that if he wants.  But that isn't enough for kids today.  They need media that lives, breathes, speaks, and runs on electricity.  It's more engaging, but it also makes you more vulnerable.

Yesterday, Robby called me around lunchtime, dying to talk college hoops.  He still had no TV and no internet, and just ten minutes of juice left on his unchargeable cell phone.  

"Bro, please talk matchups with me."

"I can't, bro. I have to work."

"Just ten minutes bro.  Please."

"I really can't, bro.  I'm sorry."

"Bro," he said, desperate and deflated.   

"It's all I have left."

The 'Beauty' of DVR

The only downside to a Herman family trip to UConn-Louisville (at Gampel! on Senior Day!), was missing the USA-Canada Gold Medal Hockey Game.  
 
But not to worry, right? This is the 21st century! We can 'DVR' it. It'll be just like watching it live....

11:00AM-12:00PM - Greg and I take train to Connecticut; I text Robby to remind him to record hockey game. He does.

12:00-3:00 PM - I preemptively text friends, asking them not to send updates; UConn game begins. Huskies off to great start. 

3:40 - Kid in seat in front of me turns to friend and says, "1-0 Canada."  Dad and I overhear. 

4:20 - After blowing big lead, UConn loses on last-second layup.

4:30-6:00 - Car ride home spent in silence: UConn lost, CD player not working, and all of us too fearful to to turn on the radio because we didn't want to hear the hockey score.

5:30 - Text from Lindsey. I contemplate not reading it, but trust it's not about the game. Lindsey: "Pizza 33...YUM."

5:45 - Robby convinces me to tell him what I knew about the first goal.

6:15 - Home, and finally start watching.  Mom tells us Robby's SAT tutor is coming at 7:15, so Robby fast-forwards whenever possible.  Fast-forward button gets stuck.  We miss the first goal. Greg accuses Robby of doing it on purpose. No one's having any fun.

6:35 - Canada scores again. We begin to worry game's not worth watching, fast-forwarding whenever possible. 

6:55 - USA scores!!!  Canada up 2-1 heading into final period. But USA with momentum.

7:15 - Robby's tutor arrives...with fifteen minutes left in third period. We take hour break. No one's happy about it.

7:20 - I go on Robby's computer to check train schedules for getting back to New York. I open a new window, so I don't see anything, but forget Robby's that home screen is ESPN.com. I see image of ice rink, with players from both sides.  Canada might have been celebrating, I'm not sure.  I convince myself I'm not sure.

7:25 - No longer trusting the internet, I go upstairs and read a New Yorker article about mountain people in the hills of New Jersey.  

8:15 - Robby's session ends.  We turn on DVR.  It's somehow skipped ahead to eighteen minutes left in overtime.  Overtime?!?!  We rewind to find out what happened. USA incredibly tied the game with 25 seconds left in regulation. And we missed it.

8:20 - We watch overtime from eighteen-minute mark. I ask Robby if he remembered to tape the show after in case game runs over allotted time. He didn't. Yelling and blaming ensues.  If game doesn't end in next 15 minutes, we run out of tape.  No one enjoys overtime.

8:30 - Sidney Crosby beats Ryan Miller to end the game. Canada wins, but Miller wins MVP. Even though USA lost, I feel nothing but pride for our guys. I watch us graciously shake hands with the Canadians. Hockey might not be up there with my favorite sports, but this tournament was truly spectacular. Honestly, I didn't want it to end.

8:32 - DVR cuts out.

Biathlon vs. Girlfriend

Lindsey was never under the illusion that just because football was ending meant I'd start going leaner on sports.  Sports-watching doesn’t dissipate, it adapts. 

I just think she figured she'd be competing with college basketball, not mass-start biathlon.

I've always liked the Winter Olympics better than its warm-weathered counterpart, but it's never been like this. With the notable exceptions of human-interest stories and figure skating (unfortunately, Lindsey’s two favorites), I can honestly say I've enjoyed watching every second of this year's Olympic coverage.  And the more obscure the event, the more I like it.

Everyone loves the downhill skiing, but what about the cross-country skiing?  Everyone loves the hockey, but what about the curling, short track speed skating, large hill ski jumping, and 10km nordic combined?  They’re completely random, and no one in our country cares. 

But I think that's why I like them.  Because even though we might not care, somewhere in the world there are people who do.  Somewhere in the world, this is the Super Bowl.  And these events take us to those faraway places.

I picture a small town in Finland, a curling stone’s throw from the Arctic Circle.  I picture the townspeople arriving home from work on a frigid Friday, starting a fire, and pouring themselves a glass of Glögi.  And somewhere in that town, I picture a girlfriend, desperately trying to convince her boyfriend to take her out to dinner.

“You know I love you, honey,” I picture him saying.

“But Nordic Combined’s on tonight.”

A Fan is Born

Last Friday, Scott's wife Orit gave birth to their first child: A six-pound, eight-ounce baby boy named Asher.  He's my first official friend's kid.

I'd normally take a moment to wonder what Asher's childhood might be like.  But in this case, it isn't necessary.  I already know.

Long before the two of them got married, I remember us all going to Mets games together.  On the way to the stadium, Scott would 'test' Orit on the Mets lineup and positions in the field.  It wasn't enough for her to know Beltran, Wright, and Reyes, however.  She had to know everyone.  "We've been over this, honey!  Jose Valentin hits 8th!"

In January 2007, when Scott first called me to tell me he was getting married, I caught an unmistakable twinge of guilt in his voice.  "The date's October 26th," he said.  "And I'm not happy about it. 

"The Giants play the Dolphins that day....and it's Game 4 of the Mets' World Series -- assuming we make it."  My mind started racing, thinking about the ways we'd check scores.  "I know," he said. "I don't know what to do."

At the hospital, the night after Asher was born, Orit woke from a nap to find Scott holding the baby with one arm, and checking espn.com on his phone with the other.  "I was telling him about the Mavs-Wizards trade," he said.  "I can't believe they got Caron Butler!"

On Monday, I went to visit baby Asher.  The new parents and I sat and talked for a while, and I even got to hold him for a bit.  It was an incredible -- and totally surreal -- experience.  It's one thing when your friends start getting married, but when they have kids?  That's when you know you're a grown-up.

I thought of the pictures of my parents' friends holding me when I was a few days old.  That was me now!  I imagined us all sitting around the dinner table twenty or thirty years from now, and telling Asher how far he's come, and how 'I remember holding him when he was just a three-day-old baby'.  Just the way my parents' friends do when they see me.  Then Scott hit me on the shoulder.

"So anyway," he said, as I rocked his baby to sleep.  "How bad is UConn this year?"