Chasing the Blues

Vanity Fair Exploits Marilyn Monroe; Facebook Falters

It's reprehensible for Vanity Fair to run nude photos of Marilyn Monroe, a seriously disturbed, long-dead woman. At least when the magazine runs soft-porn photos of today's starlets, it's with their consent. ...Justice rules after all, in Facebook's apparent Wall Street flop. As a writer in Wall Street Journal said today, Facebook really adds nothing valuable to the economy, unlike Google, Microsoft and Apple. ...Miami's coach figures out that to win, Lebron James should take about every shot. ... Gee, I wanted to stop watching the NBA playoffs, but that Lakers-Thunder series is great. It really might be one of those changing of the guard moments, from Kobe to Kevin... I know little about Bain Capital and private equity funds, but I agree with Newark Mayor Corey Booker and the New York Times' David Brooks that the Obama ad about Mitt Romney's former company is off-base. The American steel industry was pretty much dead before Bain tried to salvage that highlighted company. ...Is Bubba Watson ever going to play golf again? He's played in one tournament since the Masters. I understand him wanting to spend time with his family, but the Open is fast upon us. The Open, at San Francisco's Olympic, should be a truly open one, with guys like Watson, Matt Kuchar and now Jason Dufner having strong seasons, along with old warrior Phil Mickelsen. Of course, the media will still buzz around Tiger Woods. ...The SEC's known for football, but what about it's golf prowess? Watson's a Georgia Dawg, and Dufner, winner of two tournaments this year including last week's Byron Nelson, an Auburn Tiger. And, the ACC is also strong, with Georgia Tech's Kuchar winning the Players.

Michael Bourn Boosts Braves

The Braves' Michael Bourn shows that a baseball player with speed running the bases can give as much excitement as a football touchdown pass, a basketball fast break and the 100-meter dash. ... Bourn gives the Braves the true leadoff man they've rarely had, even in their glory years under Bobby Cox. ...With Josh Hamilton's four home runs drawing attention to one of baseball's rarest feats, it's a wonder that one of the steriod boys didn't hit five or six home runs in a game. ...The NBA keeps playing. Quick, can you name all of the teams left? Commissioner David O'Brien must be dreading an Indiana-San Antonio or Indiana-Oklahoma City final. ...I keep trying to get interested in the New York Rangers-New Jersey Devils series, but hockey ramains a tough sell on TV. ...The loss of Chris Bosh stirs panic in the Miami Heat ranks. Apparently in landing all of that talent, Pat Riley neglected to sign a backup big man.

 

The Saints, and Saint Tebow

A lovely winter Saturday, waiting to see if the Saints can whip the 49ers. After the LSU BCS debacle, I would love the healing of a Saints win. As usual, the Saints-49ers game holds SEC ties, with Ole Miss' Patrick Willis leading the '49er defense. I remember him almost single handedly beating LSU on a game I heard over the crackling radio signal from WWL. Only a four or five years ago, unlike today, every game wasn't televised.

After the Saints, I won't be able to hold myself away from watching Tim Tebow and the Broncos take on the Patriots. Saint Tim vs. cool Tim a week after Saint Tim vs. Randy Ben. Now Tebow's really receiving the big media attention, with a front page feature Saturday by The New York Times' Dan Barry and a sidebar by Richard Sandimor, and pieces in the Wall Street Journal.

Funny, Barry used a Jim Thorpe reference about Tom Brady, when I see Tebow as a throwback to the old NFL guys of the 1920s. The way he plunges forward, not sliding to the ground to avoid being hit like other NFL qbs (such as Brady) brings to mind Bronco Nagurski. The kid had some pretty good throws against the Steelers, and it looks as if the Broncos have come up with some plays going left to help him with his southpaw throws. Tebow also reminds me of old guys like Billy Kilmer and Bobby Layne who weren't the greatest passers in the world but just knew how to win. 

The Journal even had a thumb-sucker about whether Tim's wins are divinely inspired. That seems ridiculous, but who knows? In most cases, I would be put off by someone who makes as big a show of religion as Tebow does, but I find his "Tebowing" and praise of Jesus something new and different. It looks like honest emotion, something all too rare in America these days. With all of his modesty and affirmation of his virginity, Tebow does endorse Jockey shorts. I was amused to see that Jockey has posted a photo of Tebow on its web site, wearing Jockeys with no shirt. Hmmm, there is something gay about the way Tim talks. And what's with that beard?

Along with old-time NFL players from the Red Grange era, Tebow recalls a much older tradition, the medieval virtuous knight. His popularity/notoriety proves the power of even ancient cultural icons.

The NFL always succeeds in capturing the public's imagination. Major League baseball and the NBA can't ever find anything as dramatic and controversial as Tebow. God might not be backing the Broncs, but the NfL surely may be. If the Broncos win tonight, will we start to suspect that the games are rigged to get Tebow to the Super Bowl? I generally eschew conspiracy theory thinking, but sometimes I wonder. Just imagine the Saints vs. the Saint. 

Dog Days Keep Barking

The PGA at Atlanta Athletic Club shows again how that once maligned, fourth-sister major, is gaining ground each year. The U.S. Open,with Congressional disgracefully weak this year, has been in freefall for at least a decade. First, the USGA folks killed the excitement with the unplayably hard courses, then swung too much the other way...The Tiger Woods-Rocco Mediate playoff in 2008 was the last memorable open.... Once the PGA had inferior courses, but now the Atlanta Athletics Club proved a much more challenging championship test than Congressional. ...The USGA held the open once at the AAC, then never again, while the PGA has held four championships there. What doesn't the USGA come back?

...Gee, hooked on the Braves again. The Giants-Braves series was a good one. Any lover of good pitching feels sympathy with Tim Lincecum, who has received no runs at all in 10 games this year. He must feel like a great football defense that keeps seeing its quarterback throw interceptions. ..Baseball, at least in the National League, has really shifted to a pitching-dominated game in which one or two runs is usually good enough to win. Baseball dinosaurs like me might like it, but pitching duels likely bore the videogame generation. No doubt baseball can be a tedious event; the other day I grew irritated when a pitcher kept looking around at a baserunner, etc. A football team would have run three plays and an NBA team scored three goals in the time it took him to at last throw a pitch.

..I'm beginning to warm up to Freddi Gonzales as manager, but I still find his batting order screwy. I like Brian McCann, and he's a good hitter, but I don't see him as No. 3. And, while Constanza's been a spark, I'd like to see Heyward playing everyday, no matter how badly he's been going.

...The GOP is screaming about Obama vacationing in Martha's Vineyard. He would be much closer to the people if only he had his own ranch in Texas. ...Government can't create jobs, the conservatives say. The old Tammany Hall Tweed gang, as well as Southern populists like Huey Long, did pretty well in crearing jobs. 

Back in Boston

Here in Boston, a city drenched in literary and political history. With its extensive subway system, rich accents and cultural and sports offerings, Boston feels like New York with more small town graciousness.

As I write, the great news arrives: no oil escaping from BP's oil-well cap. At last the process of recovery might begin.

Looking down from our 11th floor hotel room on the Boston dusk, optimistic spirit rises. The Bosox are in town, and everyone here wears either a "B" cap or Bosox shirt. You rarely see a university shirt, not even Harvard or Boston College. Not even the Celtics, Bruins or Patriots receive much play, but perhaps that's because it's summer.

Back in Boston

Here in Boston, a city drenched in literary and political history. With its extensive subway system, rich accents and cultural and sports offerings, Boston feels like New York with more small town graciousness.

As I write, the great news arrives: no oil escaping from BP's oil-well cap. At last the process of recovery might begin.

Looking down from our 11th floor hotel room on the Boston dusk, optimistic spirit rises. The Bosox are in town, and everyone here wears either a "B" cap or Bosox shirt. You rarely see a university shirt, not even Harvard or Boston College. Not even the Celtics, Bruins or Patriots receive much play, but perhaps that's because it's summer.

LeBron James and ESPN Create a New Circus

ESPN has made millions by not only televising sports but also building interest in events peripheral to competiton. After making such fare as the NFL and NBA drafts television spectacles, the network will now air a TV special on LeBron James' choosing which NBA team he will sign with.

To reference a competitor, this smacks of the old Sports Illustrated feature "signs the apocalypse is near." LeBron James is a top ballplayer, at least when it comes to hype surrounding him, predominantly on ESPN, but does his supposedly momentous decision really rate an entire show? Although LeBron seems to be a pretty level-headed guy not overly consumed with his own ego, this is a gesture of supreme hubris. At least a charity will benefit: ad proceeds will go to the Boys and Girls Clubs.

The building hoopla makes it more likely that LeBron will leave poor Cleveland and head to the New York Knicks or Chicago Bulls. The NBA would undoubtedly love to have LeBron in one of these cities, preferably New York, with its huge audience. ESPN would also love to see LeBron as a Knickerbocker, because of the boost in ratings for its NBA broadcasts on ABC/ESPN.

That LeBron can rate a show about where he will sign is another step in outsized sports celebrity. Once again, ESPN whips up interest about an event outside of the game itself. It has endless talk radio shows, analysis on shows like Sports Center and specialty shows like "Baseball Tonight" and gives exaggerated exposure to the drafts and other subsidiary activities. All of this has a corroding influence on actual athletic competition. The real game loses importance; the ominous influence of money and the network grows.  

With lesser stars already signing for millions of dollars, LeBron will likely receive enough money to own whatever team he plays for. During the depths of the recession, rumors were swirling about NBA teams in financial trouble. Then teams come up with millions for second-tier free agents. Imagine how quickly the Cavaliers will sink without LeBron.

Perhaps LeBron should be applauded for drawing such attention as to have his own show. After this,  a series undoubtedly can be built: LeBron chooses a car, LeBron chooses a house, LeBron chooses a wine. LeBron walks his dog. LeBron crosses the street.

The job market is lousy.  Long-term unemployement is cut off. To assauge the pain, the country will have the spectacle of LeBron choosing his team. Undoubtedly President Obama will release a comment. The whole republic will come to a halt, as LeBron announces his decision. People will remember where they were when they heard the momentous news. They will tell their grandchildren about the event. Once again, ESPN boosts style over substance. Old Man Barnum would be amused.

 

Lakers Show Grit in Winning Slugfest

The NBA season lurched to a close in a game more like mud wrestling than basketball. David Stern must be happy to witness Kobe Bryant receive more accolades for rebounds than shooting baskets. The broadcast looked back on past Lakers-Celtics games, all of them with scores in the 100s for both teams.

Masters of offensive grace flashed on the screen: Bob Cousy, Jerry West, Magic Johnson, Larry Byrd, Elgin Baylor. Even that defensive genius Bil Russell had 30 points in one game. Now, we have Kobe, Ray Allen, Paul Pierce clanking baskets. All too often, the game resembled the one that Lakeer superfan Jack Nicholson conducted in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Next." The constant Celtics mugging led to the Lakers traipsing to the foul line in the final quarter.  To be fair, the nerve-wracking finale had a flurry of three-point baskets. Overall, though, the game reflected a turn toward brutal defense over beautiful offense. Remember when the zone was illegal? When more points were scored on 15-foot jumpshots than putbakcs on rebounds?

Give it to the Lakers for toughness, especially Pau Gasol and Ron Artest. In blowing a 13-point lead, the Celtics showed their age, and coach Doc Rivers couldn't devise a coherent offenseive strategy. If he has nothing else to do, Gasol can fly over to Johannesberg to give his countrymen a hand with overcoming the World Cup upset to Switzerland.

On to the U.S. Open, although I don't find it that interesting this year. Maybe it's having to hear Chris Berman do his tiresome name-pun routine duing the ESPN telecast. Or the prospect of prime-time golf. I never remember a West Coast U.S. Open jutting so far into the evening before. The U.S. Golf Association has at the behest of television moved up tee times. As it was, several players were going to have to finish in the dark. Even with HD, Pebble Beach looked very, very dark at the end. Speaking of dark, what was all of those ugly  spots on the greens? I've seen smoother greens on municipal courses in lower Alabama. Later, a player talked of the dreaded "poa annua." That's what Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelsen were muttering to themselves after not making a birdie between them.

Hey, Atlanta sports fans, how about those Bravos? They're showing themselves a National League team unafraid of those American League designated hitter bully boys. Winning series against the Twins on the road and then back home against the Rays, with as many athletes as an NFL team, especially the woeful Tampa Bay Bucs. Troy Glaus, the comeback player of the year.

On the worrisome front, Jason Heyward keeps struggling with strikeouts. He did smash a home run, his firtst in weeks. Is it really that aching thumb, or is the kid finding it tough to adjust to major league pitching? The other day, the color guy gave him some advice to stand closer to the plate. He does look a bit far away from it.

And Chipper, considering retirement, keeps struggling. Braves fans hope he can regain a semblance of his former hitting strength. With that pitching staff, though, the Braves might be able to overcome a few offensive weak spots.  

 

Braves-Dodgers: A Flickering Rivalry

With the Braves in first place and embarking upon a crucial road trip, Atlanta's on a baseball buzz again. For the first time in years, the city will be bleary eyed from staying up and watching West Coast baseball. With Internet radio, there might be a way to rig up a soundtrack so that we can hear the Dodgers' venerable Vin Scully doing the play-by-play.

The trip to L.A. brings back vague, but vivid, memories of the days when the Dodgers and the Braves were bitter rivals in the National League West. If I remember right, Joe Torre was the Braves manager for one of those epic series, and now he's managing the Dodgers, after a hall of fame stint with the Yankees. Even further back, the Milwaukee Braves and the Brooklyn Dodgers battled each other for National League supremacy in the 1950s. Well, by the grace of Henry Aaron, Ernie Johnson, Dale Murphy, Bob Horner and Claudell Washington, we'll be watching to see if the Braves can deliver a pennant for Bobby Cox in his last season.

...Miracles never cease; I found myself enjoying the "Jay Leno Show," while a Dave Letterman repeat turned worse than lame. Jay had the great Jackie Earle Hailey, another striking rejoinder to F. Scott Fitzgerald's crack about there being no second acts in American life. (Even Scott proved himself wrong). Now Jackie, whom I first loved in "Breaking Away," is playing the evil guy in the remake of "Nightmare on Elm Street." Without a trace of self-pity or regret, Jackie told Jay how his once flourishing career as a child actor went bust, and he eventually was delivering pizzas to make a living. Then he made an improbably comeback as an actor, playing the creepy sex convict in "Little Children."

Along with Jackie, Jay had on Jessica Simpson, for whom I've had a low-grade crush ever since I caught her in that Dallas Cowboys jersey when she was dating Tony Romo. Jessica and Jackie made a good pair; neither of them take themselves that seriously.

...For some reason, I'm not excited about the Lakers-Celtics showdown, although I'm sure I'll be drawn into it. I keep telling myself that I don't really like the NBA, yet then I find myself watching the ridiculous spectacle. No, I wouldn't call myself an NBA fan, then I remember I've been watching the league ever since the Rochester Royals and the Syracuse Nationals and the Minneapolis Lakers were playing on fuzzy black and white TV sets.

 

Succumbing to Vegas

When I woke up this morning, my head ached. My mouth was dry. I had only a vague memory of the night before. Slowly, it all started to come back to my tortured mind. It was late. I longed for sleep. But I couldn't stop myself from participating in the craziness. The hours sped by. The laughter. The plot twists. The slapstick. I'd starting watching this movie about four guys who went to Las Vegas for a bachelor party. Then, I couldn't tear myself away.

Yes, I stayed up much too late watching "The Hangover" on HBO. After news of the top kill, oil-drenched pelicans, financial collapse in Europe, the destruction of the Madagascar rain forest, that trip to Vegas felt great. I found myself laughing deeply, uncontrollably, as I haven't in some time.

And before that, Don Rickles, Mr. Vegas himself, had been on the David Letterman show. Perhaps the insult king is not quite ready for the Old Comedians' Home, but he's close.  Rickles hit upon a few funny zingers, while dredging all too many bits that he was using 40 years ago on "The Tonight Show."  Once every quip was sharp; now a number of them were incomprehensible.

Letterman kept trying to get Rickles to wax nostalgic about the Rat Pack Days, and Rickles kept fizzling out. Don't get me wrong; the old guy was not bad. Still, the impression was that of a former power pitcher now trying to get by late in his career by throwing junk.

The most powerful image of the TV viewing night was my Baton Rouge home boy, Glen Davis, suffering a KO to Dwight Howard's elbow in the Celtics-Magic game. Davis went down hard, lying beneath the Orlando Magic goal, as Celtics coach Doc Rivers frantically implored him to get up. The big guy tried to pull himself off the floor and run down the court to join his teammates, then began careening toward the sidelines, weaving and stumbling like a fighter trying to get up from an eight count. They took him to the bench. Later, the bad news came: a concussion, the first of two for the Celtics.

Davis' Palooka act was the most dramatic incident of a bad night for the Celtics. The Magic kept knocking the Celtics around and throwing up three-pointers, and are now only one game away from tying the series. And, in the West, Los Suns are revived as well, having tied the Lakers. A Suns-Magic final again looks possible. The networks, and the NBA, must be trembling.