Mister Faded Glory | The critique of everything

Gone are the halcyon days of our youth – when the NBA of the early to middle 1990s was securely the best game in town. Was it the legions of committed superstars? The best-ever center and best-ever shooting guard dominating titles throughout the decade? How about the coverage – NBC’s “Game of the Week,” and solid Turner sports coverage. Was that it? Was it our resolute (now expired?) fandom of the Portland TrailBlazers?

Whatever the reason, things have totally changed. We don’t check in much with the NBA anymore, barely able to feign interest in the Conference Finals, even though they feature four of the greatest franchises in the history of the league.

Maybe, however, it’s none of the above. Maybe, it’s the stupidity within the coverage. For instance:

We’re way late on this, but on Tuesday the Lakers eked out a win at San Antonio over the rival Spurs. As you may have heard, a glaring no-call helped seal the win for the Lakers. It’s never particularly satisfying when a referee’s whistle chirps at the end of a game – especially not for the losers, nor the onlookers. However, in this case Derek Fisher impeded Brent Barry’s progress, and a 2-shot foul should have been called. Sure, it sucks – it’s basketball’s worst play, the awkward collision around the 3-point line. But you can’t pick and choose when not to call the contact. It’s a foul. It’s too bad. They play OT.

Of course, that didn’t happen. Yet as the game closed and wall-to-wall coverage opened, all TNT commentators (Charles Barkley, Kenny Smith, and the atrocious Reggie Miller) loudly defended the no-call, criticizing Brent Barry for not heaving a wild shot up, or at least flopping into a foul call. This seemed like only noncommittal game analysis, until almost all ESPN talking heads (Tim Legler, Mike Wilbon) picked up the party line the next day. The CW was that Barry was impeded, but needed to “sell” the foul in order to solicit the call.

Excuse me, but, uh…

What the hell?

These boneheaded, wishy-washy rationalizations came straight from commentators who routinely excoriate players like Manu Ginobili or Robert Horry or others whose manufactured foul calls are supposedly plaguing the league. This on the heels of the NBA’s announcement that flopping will now be reviewed and/or fined next season.

So – stay with me, former players – flopping and “selling” fouls is apparently such a problem it’s not only a seasonlong criticism of the league, but now the NBA is actually seeking to remedy the dilemma. However, in the penultimate game of the Conference Finals, a whistle is swallowed – correctly, sings the misguided chorus, because Brent Barry failed to flail, fly, flop onto his back or flaunt a desperation three.

Makes perfect freaking sense. Bravo, talking heads. Bra-vo.

We’re taking a short breather from the site; not necessarily by choice. Not necessarily not by choice, either, if that makes sense. I refuse to complain about my job, or anything else, but we’ll be back after Memorial Day. Odds on that post’s content include:

• The Cubs – 2:1
• Scrubs - 10:1
• The final episode of Wings - 25:1
• Iron Man – 12:1
• Ongoing election stupidity and the completely fraudulent theory that the Democratic candidates are destroying each other – 11:5
• What Bob Sanders eats for breakfast – 50:1
• Some hackneyed tale of Iowa debauchery – 1000:1
• That stupid Buzz Bissinger-Will Leitch-Costas blogging vs. sportswriting feud from weeks ago that prompted several mediocre bloggers to spill their guts and dump their souls. -10 billion to 1. (What, you didn’t want to know that I once made out with a Copenhagen townie at a John Mellencamp cover band concert in Denmark?)
• Detailed recap of my spring yardwork, which, surprisingly, has resulted in accolades as well as a sense of personal accomplishment and satisfaction. (JFC, did I say that?) -19:1.
• Sex and The City Movie: A Review – 10 billion to 1.

See you soon. Well, not really. Talk to you soon. Or write. Good god, I’m babbling. This is why I shouldn’t have a blog. (Or is it why I should have a blog?).

I’m late to the party on this one, but in the span of a Tuesday, the rumor the Cubs were interested in signing washed-up metro centerfielder Jim Edmonds suddenly became a veritable fact. Reported by Jayson Stark on Mike and Mike, and also Gordon Wittenmeyer on the Sun-Times, Edmonds now appears destined for Chicago.

Not only am I tardy, but I’m certainly treading no new ground here. This move reeks of either stupidity, hubris, or simple laziness – hallmarks of each and every reclamation project Jim Hendry can’t turn down – from Trachsel, Steve to Rusch, Glendon to Wilson, Enrique to Miller, Wade to all the others in between – bargains for past performance but promising only future failure. Not only is Edmonds no better than Pie, he’s actually worse. His performance against RHP (against whom he’ll play exclusively) is virtually identical, and Edmonds‘ defense doesn’t compare. Not only that…

…but he’s also, well, the enemy.

No player has inspired more loathing and hatred among Cub fans than the Cardinals’ whiny, showboating glory hound. Even now, Wittenmeyer reports that Edmonds hopes to sign with the Cubs if only to stab Cardinal Nation in the back:

…[T]he team plans to pursue Edmonds, [who] has told his agent to talk to no one before talking to the Cubs … Edmonds was dumped unceremoniously by the Cardinals last winter in a trade for minor-league third baseman David Freese and is motivated by the opportunity to help a division rival beat his old team.

Now, normally that’s the kind of trendy spite I can get behind – but instead, it’s unsettling. At 38, two steps away from the end of his career, Edmonds assumes he’s the story. Just as he did diving for each and every pop fly hit his way, just as he did during each contretemps with the Cubs. (Who can forget a steaming Carlos Zambrano rearing back and drilling Frosty in the back after his showboating, a meaningless HBP in a meaningful game? Not TCR, who graciously links us. Normally, I would frown on this. In that particular game, I clapped.)

But that’s Top Jimmy. All show, no substance. During his routine crash-lands endeavoring to make Sportscenter’s top ten lists (He’s white. He’s smiley. He dives for catches. Give him a Gold Glove, says the 40-something sportswriting contingent.), Cards fans failed to notice his high K-rate while they congratulated each other for being the best fans ever. Even now, with a solid team that’s finally shed Edmonds-included dead weight, they still wax poetic over Top Jimmy’s exodus. Please.

And here he comes. The douchebag, ticketed for Wrigley, probably trying to bring down any Cubs’ success from the inside. And it got us thinking – who is the athlete we despise most, whom we couldn’t possibly love even if he signed with our team? Plenty of times we’ve developed a severe distaste for current Cubs who left (See: Barrett, Michael. Tavarez, Julian. Farnsworth, Kyle. Hawkins, Latroy.) But the dead-red, showboating, eyeliner-wearing enemy? Does he have an equal?

• The Colts, signing Tedy Bruschi?
• The Drexler-era Trail Blazers signing Michael Jordan? (Sigh. Yes, everybody, I’m a Cubs fan who doesn’t like Michael Jordan. So sorry.)
• The Vikings, signing Brett Favre? (Courtesy of an official friend of MFG.)
• Cubs, signing WS heroes Derrek Lee and Juan Pierre? (Oops.)
• Cubs sign Chris Carpenter? This would qualify, although Carp could eat innings and actually get batters out, so I could overlook that. As opposed to Edmonds‘ habitual misplays of lazy gap singles into triples.

But, this our new Cub fan reality. Which proves we’ll go to great lengths to bitch about nearly anything (Remember last month’s lengthy discussions about Soriano leading off?), because players certainly don’t view themselves beholden to any team. Johnny Damon left Boston for New York, right? Hopefully, Edmonds fuels whatever selfish bitterness he has into some sort of productivity. If not, perhaps he’ll take Jason Marquis with him, en route out of town.

Since you asked, no.

No, we’re not prepared in the least to discuss the possible, severe, fall from grace of one of our longtime favorite athletes. Someone we’ve watched since high school. Someone in whom we were so confident, we encouraged a college roommate to draft the rookie, sight unseen, for fantasy football our freshman year. (Note: Roommate won.)

Someone we’ve championed as the 1-a greatest receiver, ever. Someone who seemed refreshingly restrained among typical, outlandish receiving divas, and someone who seemed tangible. We’re not so Pollyannaish to assume all pro, college, or even high school athletes are beyond reproach. We’re not that innocent, but we’re also hoping we don’t have to discuss it any further. Here’s hoping our No. 8 Syracuse jersey doesn’t have to remain in the closet.

We also aren’t fully prepared to discuss NBC’s billed “Finale” of Scrubs.

No. 1 – Mister Faded Glory is swamped at his phony real job, and we saw nary a promo for the show. No. 2 – this caught us off-guard, aren’t we only nine episodes into the season? Didn’t they finish a reported 12 before NBC pulled the plug? No. 3 – Scrubs now cannot end fully on its terms – jerked around by NBC at the last minute; the show appears ready for a full-fledged season on ABC next year. Which we’re ambivalent about.

One on hand, it’s nice to have another year of an old friend you assumed would depart. On the other – and, sadly, the more apropos hand – it’s probably going to be painful. In fact, tonight’s episode (“My Princess”) was easily the series’ worst. It must have been in the can early in the year, because Keith was in it, Kelso was still chief, and it didn’t fit into any current story arcs. Should have been shelved until the Season 7 DVD release. Or burned. NBC’s airing tonight simply served as the Peacock’s final screw-you to a show that deserved better, after remaining a critical and cultish fave for the network during its near-decade downturn. Whatever.

Not that I’m in the business of telling a successful executive producer what to do with one of the best sitcoms ever. But why not cut the final episodes simply for the DVD of season 7? NBC is surely finished with the show with likely no re-airings over summer (It would get in the way of America’s Got Talent). Doesn’t that make it possible for the 7 billion stations currently rotating syndicated Scrubs to air the final 6? What’s contractually in the way?

It’s too bad, because if the last few weeks of Scrubs were an indication, as Alan Sepinwall notes, the writers were building toward a strong series culmination. During the last four solid episodes the plot careened toward the career pinnacle of Dr. Cox, the second child for Turk and Carla, and, presumably, a final, introspective resolution for J.D.

Instead, however, the show lurhces on, with tonight’s phony finale leaving a sour aftertaste. Zach Braff will continue to age in dog years, minor characters will play larger roles (Floyd?), tongue-in-cheek guest stars will show up (think Private Dancer) and we’ll be treated to a full-fledged Night Court-esque phoned-in final season, replete with more unwatchable episodes like tonight’s painful homage to The Princess Bride (Ugh. Don’t start, geeks.).

Still.

Sigh.

We’ll take it.

The Cubs enjoyed a fairly successful April, turning in a 17-10 record (Er, 17-9 after an 0-1 March) and actually playing sound, fundamental baseball. Who knew? They survived the injury of their highest-paid player, they survived some early starting-pitching woes, and maybe they’ve proven to be right about Matt Murton, as opposed to, you know, me.

Admittedly, there’s a lot to like about this year’s team (Admittedly, we said the same in late April of 2006, after several come-from-behind wins and even after D-Lee’s injury. Before the 4-22 stretch.). Admittedly, there’s several caveats – if the frustrating stench of Dusty Baker’s “swing-harder” era is finally gone, if Ronny Cedeno and Geovany Soto and even Felix Pie have really turned the corner, and if the pitching can hold up. Even though today featured an agonizing loss to the rival Brewers, it’s still OK to be optimistic. But it’s not OK to overlook certain flaws.

Kerry Wood.
As fans, we’re all guilty of looking past his early hiccoughs, flaws, and struggles as closer. Wood’s stuff looks great out of the bullpen, that’s true. But today’s blown game and loss to the Brewers wasn’t only inevitable, it was perhaps a return to form. (Sider: The Crew and the Cubs look like two NL heavyweights. You know, assuming their dueling incendiary head-case closers don’t cost them both down the stretch.). Just like in game 1 of the season, Wood served up three runs in the ninth to the Brewers. Just like game one, it doomed the Cubs.

But this isn’t new territory for Kerry - he’s now blown three saves and a tie this season, even though this is the first for a loss. It’s been easy to gloss over these as fans, because we all like the stand-up, once-iconic Wood, but we can’t run from the problem any longer. Maybe he’s our sixth-inning guy instead of our stopper; maybe Marmol slides over to close.

But the Cubs can’t always stretch Kerry’s repeated faux-pas into fourteenth-inning triumphs, nor can they expect dramatic rescues. It’s probably time to end the Wood-as-closer experiment. Were this Ryan Dempster’s travails, he’d be strung up outside Wrigley. Granted, it’s easy to magnify a loss immediately after the fact, like, this afternoon. But it’s also easy to look at three blown saves, two within a week, the blown tie, and read the writing on the wall.

The sad thing is, the Cubs may not have a better ninth-inning option. Saves and closers are overrated, sure, but filthy 7th-8th inning guys are not. The versatile, filthy assassin-like Carlos Marmol is great in the middle of the game; it would be a shame to lose him to a one-inning role. Right? And to who?
Again, it’s easy to overreact after the second consecutive Thursday gut punch. But the Cubs can’t punt these wins away. Sure, everyone has off nights, and everyone struggles. But even these early games against the Brewers are important. After all, when Milwaukee started fast last season, the only thing the Cubs could hang their hats were their repeated series victories over the Crew. We know how that turned out. Speaking of bullpen woes, this would be easier if the Cubs could count on…

Bob Howry?
Okay, it’s May now, Bob. Can you right this ship (shit) or what?

Not to belabor anything, but, well, the rest of the bullpen, too.
Sean Marshall’s been OK, Mike Wuertz has fallen off a cliff, and who knows what Jon Lieber or Kevin Hart will show up in late games. The Marmol is a beast – but he can’t do it alone.

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