Not so mad March

The country has “Sweet 16 Fever” or so it would seem. I’ve not watched a minute of college basketball this season and unless something unusual happens, like Butler or one of the double-digit-seeded teams play in the Final Four, it’s doubtful I will watch any college roundball this season.

It seems like “March Madness,” the media-inspired name for the NCAA Men’s College Basketball Tournament, is the biggest thing since sliced bread if you follow the sports world.

Indeed, the tournament is big. How many millions of dollars this extravaganza spreads to television, advertisers, colleges and the towns in which the tournament is held, I couldn’t guess. Then there is gambling. The office pools where people fill out brackets perhaps funnels millions into the so-called “underground” economy. The money is cash and not reported to the government. Then the legal betting on the Las Vegas line no doubt floats around millions more.

Keeping all of the above in mind, the Harris poll I found about popularity of sports certainly gives me a cause to think again about how much of March Madness is true excitement and how much is hype.

The poll, released in January, reveals that only some 4 percent of Americans list college basketball as their favorite sport. This comes behind in order: Men’s soccer, hockey, men’s pro basketball, auto racing, college football, baseball and, at number one, pro football.

Coming as far behind pro football, as the locked-out NFL looms large at  31 percent, one wonders just how much popularity the March NCAA tournament draws in for a sport with a season that extends some four months with about two games played per week during the regular season.

Just  how mad is that?

 

XLV: Not so super

Super Bowl XLV, why not call it 45 for the lack of an expletive as a modifier, was not  the worst Super Bowl. But it was bad enough.

The game turned out to be pretty good. It wasn’t great. It wasn’t a blow-out. It wasn’t sudden death playoff. I guess the game was good enough.

It absolutely serves no purpose for me to bad-mouth Christine Aguilera for butchering that part of our National Anthem that she couldn’t remember. It’s a difficult song to sing. If you search this blog you will see numerous references where I say we should replace “Star-Spangled Banner” with “America the Beautiful” as our national song. Still, the SSB is a difficult song so unless you are a young Aretha Franklin, you shouldn’t really attempt to give the anthem a “soul shake.”

The much anticipated television commercials were not, in my estimation, very good. Neither were they good enough. The best was an old joke, the Budweiser “Tiny Dancer” commercials where the rough-as-a-cob Western characters break out in in a not-so-macho old-time Elton John tune. It was funny in a way that I appreciated but that doesn’t make it hit. Several others were okay. Some ads just stunk.

Even the ever-present Super Bowl “hype” leading up to the game on Fox was disappointing. The interviews of celebrities on the red carpet was a malicious waste of air time. I like the Fox Football gang. I think they are very amusing as well as knowledgeable as any about the game. But anyone who tries to interview Harrison Ford needs to spend a week penned up with a baboon that’s hammered on Red Bull and Seconal. I’m sure the level of understanding would be similar.

Speaking of interviews, the chat between Bill O’Reilly and the other “O” who lives in the White House shows up close and personal just how much an idiot O’Reilly really is. As with his show, “It’s All About Bill,” such was the interview. What Bill O said was all that is important is in the mind of the interviewer. I don’t care whether you are talking to Obama or Clinton or the two Bushes, if you have an exclusive interview watched by probably the biggest audience in the world you don’t squander it with cheap shots  or spending all your time on “me, me, me …. ” What an ass can that O’Reilly.

An old friend came down and visited. We hung out on Saturday night talking old times and watching the hype and game on Sunday. That and that alone saved this from being the worst Super Bowl ever. Oh and the game too, I suppose.

The media chill out in the vast desert that is Super Bowl XLV

It appears snow and assorted other winter goodies over the past three days in Dallas has thrown the national media — especially the sports media — into a tizzy.

The New York Times trumpeted “Rare storm hits Texas, causing chaos for drivers.” Yes, it never snows here in the desert, which is what all of Texas is. You didn’t know that? Plus we all ride horses here in Texas, in the desert, on a horse with no name. That’s mainly because it’s good to be out of the rain, pardon my references to a 1970s song by the band “America.”

A three-day winter storm happens about every 10 years, a weather guy goes on to say in the story. So how rare is it really? True, this has been an exceptionally cool winter. We had some icing and a little light snow here in Beaumont, some 252 miles southeast of Cowboys Stadium, this morning but nothing off the charts. Nonetheless, we do have winter too in these parts and even more so in Dallas because it is farther north. It happens! It’s not Buffalo, but it happens.

And so many of the sports media in Dallas for the Super Bowl work themselves into a whirling dervish over whether weather like this week in North Texas — that’s how the NFL is billing it because technically the game is being played in Arlington — will prevent cities subject to snowy winters from ever capturing future Super Bowls. Perhaps they should save that question for a couple of years from now after the big game is played in New Jersey’s New Meadowlands Stadium.

Anyone with sophistication enough to know that the Super Bowl is just as much about television commercials as it is football, perhaps more so, also understand the week leading up to the big game is about hype. Hundreds, maybe thousands, maybe zillions of media members are in the Dallas “Metroplex” area this week. Some of the media include those who are really celebrities or football players or both, like Cincinatti Bengals’ receiver Chad Ochocinco, who was questioning NFL head Roger Goodell today during a news conference about the league-management labor situation. Indeed, perhaps the looming lockout by the rich team owners is the biggest question the media will ask about during this whole Super Bowl with maybe the exception of “Who won?” the game. You won’t get an unbiased answer from me about who is right and who is wrong here, management or labor. (Hint: I look for the Union label.)

Still you will hear the bitching about snow in Dallas and see stories about Steelers safety Troy Polamalu’s hair. That is because newspapers, radio, TV, Internet and whatever other kind of media are paying a lot for their personnel  to be in Dallas to cover the Super Bowl. Having been a reporter who was sent on a few trips — nothing like one of my former cohorts who was sent to Central America to study Spanish and not like one who worked for larger and richer outlets — I am fully cognizant that those who send you expect something back other than your jet-lagged, hungover self. That is send something back, like a story. Earn your keep, in other words. It’s almost 48 hours before game time and some of ESPN’s people were sitting a short while ago and broadcasting out in the cold of Sundance Square, the popular entertainment and shopping area of downtown Fort Worth. Hey, you got to do something! Rain, sleet, snow or hail, post office or no post office.

I hope the game between, who? Oh yeah, the Steelers and the Green Bay Packers is a good one and even more important, the broadcast is full of great commercials. See you all then. And, don’t some of you guys have deadlines?

Dance, dance, little sister (of the poor) dance

Read the article, see the sign. If you think the statement Ohio State president E. Gordon Gee made dissing the Texas Christian University’s legitimacy in Bowl Championship Series play was absurd, then you will laugh at the poetic justice. It’s enough for the Little Sisters of the Poor to break out the Rolling Stone’s 1974 LP (like a CD only vinyl and smaller, kids!) “It’s Only Rock and Roll” and play “Dance Little Sister.”

One still has to wonder: What if? Had things worked out differently for Oregon and Auburn. What if TCU had been the only top ranked BCS school to go undefeated? There would have been a good chance the Horned Frogs would not have played for the Tostitos National Championship Game Monday evening in Glendale, Ariz. even if they were alone the undefeated. How much of a travesty would that have been? Probably, just as much a travesty as the  BCS itself.

Of course, we the football viewing public would not have been treated to 75 mostly meaningless bowl games like the Maxipad El Perro Bowl or the Preparation H Mosquito Bowl. Money, that’s what I want. Or rather, that is what the BCS powers that be want.

A college football playoff system for Division I schools as is done for smaller schools would make too much sense. It would make the fans, most likely, happier in the end. It could still make tons of money. You could still have the Ex Lax Tomato Bowl and all the others.

Division I college football should be saved from itself.

Here’s hoping the new Hall of Famers live up to the real thing

Damned if I can tell Fred from A.J. The two guys who liven up the local Houston-Beaumont or Beaumont-Houston sports talk radio channel in a noon-2 p.m. thing called “The Blitz.” Sorry guys. Not that Fred or A.J. read my blog, but it’s just difficult sometime telling one from the other on the radio. With that said, a little baseball talk, but more a small bit o’ discourse on dignity.

Today, this year’s Baseball Hall of Fame class was announced. The winners, nominees, selectees, chosen ones, whatever are Robbie Alomar and Bert Blyleven. Alomar is considered one of the best second basemen in baseball history while Bert “Be Home” Blyeven, as he was dubbed by longtime ESPN commentator Chris Berman, is known for the wondrous curve ball he chunked as mostly an American League pitcher.

While I remember Blyleven only a bit, when he played for Minnesota and Texas, about the only thing I remember about Alomar was when he spit on umpire John Hirschbeck during a dispute during a 1996 game. One of the Blitz radio guys, and again I am sorry I don’t know which one, spoke today about when his father took him to a Texas game when Blyleven was pitching. They later saw the pitcher in a restaurant and the then kid wanted to get Blyleven’s autograph. The radio guy said his dad told him to wait until the future Hall of Famer had finished eating, which is what the then kid did. Seeing a napkin on top of the plate, the kid approached Blyleven. Then, said the sports announcer, the pitcher jumped his s**t for bothering him while he was eating. That was even though the pitcher appeared to be finished with his meal. From that point forward the kid felt bitter toward Blyleven. Go figure.

While I was never a fan-atic in any sport, I nonetheless have enjoyed many games of different sports and admired athletes for both their sporting ability as well as those who showed some semblance of character. That seems hard to find these days with some modern-day jocks.

I have only asked for and received one autograph in my life, other than having authors sign a couple of books. The signature was from baseball Hall of Famer Harmon Killebrew, one of the guys who knocked an impressive number of longballs (lifetime 574 HR), during his more than 20 years mostly with the Minnesota Twins and its predecessor Washington Senators. I probably shouldn’t have asked Hammerin’ Harmon for his autograph even though he was signing them at the time for veterans at a VA hospital. I say I probably should not have because I was covering the event as a reporter and that would be seen by some as “unethical” or “bias.” But screw it. Harmon was one of the best, not only players but human beings. He did that kind of thing, going around visiting VA hospitals around the country, all the time. I put in a shadow box the reporter’s notebook I asked Harmon to sign on the back cover. He said: “Thanks for everything … ,” meaning my coverage. What a guy.

The World has learned this week that Harmon Killebrew has been diagnosed with a rare malignancy, esophogeal cancer. I remember that as nice a man Harmon, now 74, was, he was also an old-time, hard-as-nails hitter. He said in an interview he is preparing, along with his wife, for the toughest battle of his life.

I wish the best to Harmon, the only person whose autograph I asked and received, and to his family as they face this rough road ahead. If class were a prerequisite of the Baseball Hall of Fame, Harmon Killebrew would win every time on the first ballot.