Sochi and Short Track Speed Skating

The Winter Olympics are known for featuring "weird sports" (as my 9 year old likes to call them).  Alongside staples such as Downhill Skiing, Hockey and Figure Skating, the Winter Olympics feature sports in which you ski off of a cliff (ski jump), a sport which allows you to shoot rifles at targets (biathalon) and ice fishing (just kidding on that one).    Sochi in 2014 is no different.

One of the sports that the boys got interested in though was an unusual one fraught with danger.  Short track speed skating.  We whetted our appetites with the longer short track races the night before and I was describing the shorter races that are just free-for-alls.  While this seems kind of strange - why not just go to a regular track if you are going 500 or 1500 meters - the strategy seems a little different in the 500 meter races.  These were just qualification races, but they started off slowly for the first couple of laps, gaining advantage and position and then off they go for the last couple of laps.  We were transfixed because the element of danger and possibility of sliding off the track were real.  Now we just had to watch the real short track the next day, where the wipeouts are frequent and Apollo Anton Ohno rules.

9am. Home. Oh no.  We go live to Salt Lake City for the US Olympic Trials and Ohno is an announcer.  What does that mean?  He's not skating anymore? I consider turning this off.  The boys start to look around for things to do.  This is troublesome for a series of races that last 90 minutes.

The women start first.  The names sound familiar from the 1500.  They just go a lot faster at 4.5 laps.

LC joins us and immediately asks the obvious question. "How do they do that without running into each other?"

The men start.  "Did you know Eddy Alvarez is Pedro Alvarez's brother?"  Good memory, G.  J.C. Celski is favored to win this race - the world record holder at this distance.  After a wipeout by Jordan Malone in the first men's final, C comes down to watch.

"Rewind the crash, Dad!"

"Why is she wearing sunglasses?"  C asks.  When I tell him to reduce glare, he then continues, "What glare?"  He does not appreciate my answer and continues on "No, what is glare?" Who cares?  Pedro Alvarez's brother just made the A Final...whatever that means.

The crashes are minimal, like they are afraid to try to win any of these races.  Where is the insanity?  Where is the intensity?  This is very frustrating since DLG loses interest and goes out and plays in the snow.  The boys pick up their electronics as they lose interest.  Come on!  Where is the excitement?

Emily Scott and Jessica Smith are going to Sochi!  Now the men go.  J.C. Celski and Eddy Alvarez make it for the men.  Hopefully the Olympics capture their imaginations more than these races.

A Most Interesting 2014 Hall of Fame Ballot

2014 is shaping up to be one of the most interesting Hall of Fame Elections in recent years.  In the post-steroids era (are we really past this yet), some very interesting first year candidates are joining the likes of Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa.  The questions this year are lingering like a bad cold.  2013's ballot saw no one inducted.  Obviously, that can't happen to often because interest in the ballot would start to diminish.  Players NEED to be inducted in 2014.  Let's investigate the possibilities and the questions.

Will Jack Morris finally make it on his last year on the ballot? (He only gets 15 years after all to make the Hall of Fame)?

Will second year stand outs Craig Biggio, Mike Piazza or Curt Schilling make the HOF in their second year trying?

Will any of the terrible steroid-era players, Roger Clemens, McGwire, Sosa, Bonds or Rafael Palmeiro actually get the call?  Will cheating still matter to these voters?

Who from the new class - Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Frank Thomas or Mike Mussina, for instance - will get the call from the BBWAA?

To help me with my imaginary ballot, similar to Deadspin's purchase of a ballot from a terribly greedy sportswriter, I have asked G to tell me who he thinks will be elected to the Hall of Fame.

G's list...

Roger Clemens
Barry Bonds
Greg Maddux
Frank Thomas
Don Mattingly

I agree with G.  Maddux might be a 100% lock to make the Hall of Fame.  Even Ty Cobb, Hank Aaron and Babe Ruth could not secure 100% of the vote from the writers, but Maddux has a shot.  With the Internet, writers are under as much scrutiny as players and thus tend to follow the normal course of action a little bit more closely.  A pitcher who was so consistent that he never won more than 20 games (having won 20 games twice), yet put together 16 years of more than 15 wins?  This is amazing consistency for modern day pitchers and may earn him a unanimous vote.  These writers are dying to vote someone in after skipping the vote in 2013 and voting only Barry Larkin in in 2012.  They are desperate to vote.

Who did not make the cut according to G?  Mark McGwire.  When I asked him why, he responded "Well, because he took steroids."  Oh the irony of his picks.

Here are my picks:

Greg Maddux
Tom Glavine
Frank Thomas
Craig Biggio
Jack Morris

Curt Schilling, Tim Raines and Mike Piazza will just miss.  There's always next year, although the pitching prospects will get stronger as Randy Johnson and Pedro Martinez joins the 2015 Hall of Fame Ballot.

Celtics' Reunion Week Doesn't Matter Anymore

Doc Rivers doesn't matter anymore.  He tries to make himself relevant by talking about himself in the days leading up to the game against the Celtics tonight.  He describes his acrimonious split with the Celtics as "his fault" that he walked out on them.  His regret is palpable.  But he knew the score.  In this year of Wiggins, Smart and Parker, it made more sense for mediocre teams to trade down in order to get a better lottery pick in the 2014 NBA Draft.  Rivers didn't want that anymore.  It's just that after all these years, he didn't have to be such a putz about it.

Now the Celtics are in full tank mode and the Clippers are 14-8.  Fast-forward to the question I posed to the boys earlier this morning when I began a recording of the Celtics-Clippers tilt.

"Guess who the Celtics are playing tonight?"

With less than full excitement, "Who, Dad?"

"The Clippers."  I answer.  When C asks me why that's important, I tell him about Chris Paul and Blake Griffin, but more importantly, Doc Rivers.

Doc River Doesn't Like You Either

"I hate Doc Rivers." C explains, without really knowing why.  Perhaps he saw one of his Instagram followers say that, now he echoes that same thought.

But in any event, in this lost season where the Celtics might tank all the way to the Third Seed in the Eastern Conference, this game has meaning.  First it was the woebegone Nets yesterday, now the Doc-led Clippers.  Can the Celtics embarrass themselves in front of all of the their 2012-13 players and coaches during "Reunion Week.  Too bad Lawrence Frank is still employed by the Nets.

7:30pm.  Tommy Heinsohn starts eulogizing Doc Rivers at the beginning of the broadcast.  Give me a break.  I'm more pissed that he didn't win 3 Championships.  That one Championship, while sweet, was disappointing in that it was the only one.  You can blame KG's injury in 2009 and Perkins' injury in 2010.  I blame the coaching.

Sullinger, G's favorite player starts out the scoring with a little runner for a 2-0 lead, then gets stuffed by DeAndre Jordan on his next shot.  Yup, this is going to be a long night, no matter how points Sullinger scores.  But wait.  Lob city arrives as Jordan Crawford alley oops to Avery Bradley for a 17-12 Celtics' lead.  The Celtics take a 23-20 lead after the First Quarter.  Maybe Rivers' tears are about more than Boston.  Like Tommy Heinsohn's osession with Chris Paul palming the ball.

During the Second Quarter, we were reminded about how much Rivers meant to the team.  Even he admitted that they were the best team int eh league in 2009 until KG went down.  The only thing of note was to see this interesting stat - DeAndre Jordan is first in the League in FG percentage but is last in the league in Free Throw percentage. Celtics lead at halftime 45-39.

Another Quarter and another free throw adventure for DeAndre Jordan.  He even air balled a free throw for crying out loud of his 5 misses.  And Doc Rivers is third all time in coaching wins for the Celtics?  That graphic is quite startling.  Clippers take a 66-64 lead after 3.

At this point, both boys tell me that they have to go to bed.  It being a school day and all.  I guess Doc Rivers has made a couple of other kids not care.  Clippers win 96-88.

Good riddance!

The Great Baseball Card Draft Part 2

It was a long time coming.  The Baseball Card Draft was finally upon us!  G had won the first pick not for lack of record but for pure dumb luck in the classic game of "pick a number between 1 and 10."  This was like the 2003 NBA Draft.  Everyone knew that Jackie Robinson 1953 - Like LeBron James after him would be the first round draft pick.  The question was who would 2-10?

We had the day planned, we just needed to pick a day that worked for everyone.  In other words, we just had to get Mom and DLG out of the house so they wouldn't complain about being bored and then we could commence the DRAFT...

Home.  2pm.  The first pick wasn't so much a pick as it was a coronation.  There was no ceremony involved.  G just simply put out his hand and told me.  "I'll take Jackie Robinson, Dad."  The smile on his face led me to believe that he would not fling that card around in his bedroom three weeks from now.  I handed it over to him.  I told him the story of how I bought that card for 5 bucks from a kid 5 years older than me when I was 9 years old just like him.  He thought he got enough to buy a six pack with his fake ID.  I thought I got one of the coolest cards ever made.  It was a win win.  G looked at me with a glazed look.

2nd Pick.  It was a tough one.  A lot of decent cards to choose from.  C finally looked around at all of the old cards and settled on the Yogi Berra 1953 Topps Card that I have had since I was 12 years old.  I bought that card at an auction some where in the middle of Connecticut.  My Father would take me to these auctions and he would give me some money (and I would use some of my own too) and I would try to buy baseball cards.  It was pretty exciting to me.  My Father must have pulling his hair out in retrospect.  There were some real winners in these auction crowds back then.

3rd Pick.  1968 Tom Seaver Topps.  Even though he had a little trophy on his card saying All Star Rookie, this was not his rookie card.  It was in mint condition and looked pretty cool.  C was excited about that one, because I told him that was favorite card, even though not the most valuable.  I remember my Dad surprised me by taking me to a random baseball card shop in Kennebunk, Maine when I was just 10 years old when we were on vacation.  I looked around for hours and when I spotted that Tom Seaver card, he gave me 20 bucks to buy it even though I had already blown by my budget.  I bought that card and a couple of other random cards.  But that one was still my favorite.

4th Pick.  Gil Hodges 1952 Bowman.  This was another of the auction specials.  I still remember this was the auction with my Dad when the kid in front of me threw up an entire can of Slice soda (remember that nasty crap?).  I still have trouble drinking lemon lime sodas like Sprite and 7up.  Yuck.  C and G had no idea who this guy was, so they just believed me when I told him he was a great home run hitter.  That seemed to have done the trick.

5th Pick.  Johnny Bench, 1969 Topps.  As with the Seaver Card, it had the big rookie trophy on the card, but it was not actually his Rookie Card.  This was a baseball card store purchase.  I made this one on my own when I was 16 years old.  I'm sure the guy didn't take me for a ride since I was a tough looking 16 year old kid.  I actually drove to the shop myself this time.  The deal was not that great, but still a great looking card. 

6th Pick.  Hank Aaron, 1967 Topps.  Another great looking card.  This was another auction purchase.  This was the auction where I tried to complete my 1964 Topps set (sans Mickey Mantle), but another guy kept outbidding me.  Every time he won a bid, he would just have this weird satisfied smile, like he was passing gas and was proud of it.  Now maybe it was just my paranoid 14 year old self, but I felt like Barry Weiss out there from Storage Wars as I kept getting the short end of the stick. 

7th Pick.  Ernie Banks.  1956 Topps.  I honestly have no idea how I got this card.  No story to tell on this one.  I don't even know this guy well enough to talk the boys into thinking that they got a real cool baseball card.

8th Pick.  Cal Ripken 1982 Topps.  Our first real rookie card.  I remember when Ripken was the reason that people still watched baseball (before McGwire and Sosa that is) and this card was one of my valuable.  Now it is a middling card and most people remember his brother's baseball card with the vulgarity more than this rookie card.  This was also the first card that was drafted that I got just from opening up packs of baseball cards.

9th Pick.  Warren Spahn, 1956 Topps.  Another card, the receipt of which I have no idea.  Nice pick still

10th.  Ryne Sandberg, 1983 Topps.  This was the first of two that were drafted.  Another "get" from baseball card packs.  I remember when this card, Tony Gwynn and Wade Boggs all had rookie cards in 1983 and my friends and I would gamble with these cards as the center pieces of most wagers.  Instead of money!  We used to play pool at a friends house - 9 Ball - and we would each put up a card.  The winner got to keep both cards.  A lot of games ended on the break when the 9 Ball fell in.  It seemed like I always lost on the break, but could never lose once we started playing.  I'm sure that's not how it went down, but it seemed that way to a 12 year old.  It seemed innocuous at the time, but these cards were valuable even back then, so I was a pre-teen betting $50 on a pool game.  I'm glad I turned out all right.  That was actually kind of stupid.

We continued on for another three hours until we picked through the first 60 cards.  My back and head were killing me.  The boys started to fight over whether C or G actually picked a 1975 Nolan Ryan card first.  (They hadn't heard of the man before today)  Yes, we spent four hours divvying up my baseball cards that I spent most of my child hood collecting.  It brought back a lot of memories for me.  And I couldn't think of a better way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

One 2013 Boston Parade I Can Get Behind

The Red Sox Won the 2013 World Series!  The boys and I were watching every minute of the game (the girls went to sleep well before us) and we all celebrated like it was 1918.  This was the year of it being our city and every little thing was going to be all right.  It was the year of beards and no beers.  It was the year of Papi and Lackey.  And it was the year of another sports parade in the City of Boston.

It was just a year and half ago when the boys talked me into going to the Boston Bruins Parade after they won the Stanley Cup.  Now that was excruciating.  A bunch of fair weather fans celebrating like they were waiting 100 years for the Cup.  They couldn't sell out the Garden until the playoffs, but then 2 million people come to watch the parade?  Hogwash.

But it was a pretty good time.

So when the World Series, which was never in doubt, ended in a Red Sox victory, I was hopeful that the parade would be on Saturday or Sunday so we could go.  G would ask me too. "Are we going, Dad?" was the refrain on Thursday and Friday.

"Go where?" I ask knowing that that is just going to cause trouble.

"To the parade!!"

"What parade?" I quizzically ask in return.

"Dad, you're not that funny."  C chimes in as he walks into the kitchen.  I guess 11 year olds don't get Dad's sense of humor.

So on Saturday morning, we started making our plans.  We ignored Mayor Menino's admonition to take the train in and drove.  We scooted right in drove into Kenmore Square and parked right on Beacon Street.  It was actually tougher getting the kids out of the car with no injury than it was to drive in.  And the problem was S's scooter which she insisted on bringing for some reason.

We walked down Brookline Avenue and took a left onto Yawkey Way.  Thousands of people were in front of us and behind us.  Even though it was just 9:45 am, the mood was celebratory.  The bars were open, people were chanting.  Kids were dancing.  G was asking for baseball cards at the Souvenir Store.  Everything was right with the world.

After a brief stop to take some pictures with the 2013 World Series Banner, we continued down Yawkey Way onto Boylston Street and then walked as close as we could to the corner of Boylston and Ipswich where the parade began.  Unfortunately, we were about 20 deep in our spot and had to really stretch and squint to see anything.  But honestly, who cares?  We are celebrating the freaking Red Sox winning the World Series. 

The duck boats started coming around the corner at around 10:15.  A couple of duck boats would be followed by a confetti machine rocketing red white and blue confetti into the air.  The celebratory mood turned into anticipation as the kids were waiting for Big Papi and Dustin Pedroia.  The team doctor, owners and the rookie scrubs were nice, but not as nice as seeing the players responsible for the win.

Finally, the Ortiz's duck boat came around.  Well at least it looked liked Ortiz' boat, but we were so far away that it could have been anyone really.  I took pictures and lifted G up to get a better view.  My back was also asking to be strained so it made sense to lift 95 dead pounds.  The crowd was going nuts and confetti was everywhere.

And just like that it was over.  We were back in the car at 11am.  A lot different than the 4 hours we spent waiting for the Bruins to come to the corner of Boylston and Tremont.  And as we were walking back to the car, I was bombarded with requests for Red Sox shirts, cards, baseballs, everything.  They wouldn't be asking for this stuff in November unless the Red Sox played deep into October.  So although I still said NO to them, I still appreciated the sentiment.

Indeed.  Don't worry, 'bout a thing.  Cause every little thing is going to be alright.