Sports and...Love: My Perfect Valentine

For Valentine's Day, I wanted to hear from a lady sports fan what combination of sports and romance would win her heart. Top Pistons' fan Natalie of Need 4 Sheed, graciously accepted a guest blog invitation to explain the perfect day to us unwashed blogger masses. Her words follow.

I’m sure I’m not the only woman who would enjoy the perfect sports themed Valentine’s Day. Let’s get one thing straight first, I’m not turning down any Ice if it comes my way, but I wouldn’t be offended if February 14th, was mixed with my love of The Pistons and the special someone I love. (MCBias note: being a Cleveland fan, I didn't recognize the ice in the picture at first. Sigh.)



Every girl would love flowers and breakfast in bed to start off the day right but, give me an hour or so with the 1989-90 Pistons Championship Box set on a big screen and I’m smiling from ear to ear. As far as presents go, I will take anything Pistons related except maybe a Pistons jersey from the teal era, any self respecting Pistons fan who knows better anyway. If you really want to impress, scrounge up a vintage Joe Dumars bobble head and you will have one happy girl on your hands.

If you’re going to go all out on the perfect night for me it would have to be courtside seats at The Palace of Auburn Hills for a Pistons game. No need for candlelight, the flames at the Palace will put me in a romantic mood. I don’t need a fancy dinner, I’ll take the courtside waitress bringing drinks and snacks. I mean how can you go wrong when Sheed is 10 feet away, the only thing you need to get out of your seat for is a thunder dunk and you have your sweetheart is by your side? If a Cavalier beat down just so happens to end the night, who knows what could happen.

Gasp! My heart is given over to Lebron the Pure and his band of valorous men, and I've let a traitorous Pistons fan on to my site! Forgive me, Sir Lebron! haha. My thanks to Natalie for contributing a column, and make sure to visit the graphical gathering, the Pistophonic pandering, the sheedtasticly stupendous site that is Need4Sheed.com

Guest Bias: The Big Lead

Just in case you didn't know, I won The Big Lead's guest post competition for the week. I posted about the The Greatest Game Ever (That Nobody Saw). Admittedly, the post was a little sloppy in focus, because I was trying to max reader response. But the comments are great. I especially recommend Jay the Most Hated's recollection of foreshadowing a baseball calamity and Lowbar watching the Super Bowl on a ship before the signal faded...with less than a minute left in the Rams-Titans Super Bowl!

Also, you need to read The Starting Five's take on Big Box Sports Media Outlets. I am both fascinated and perturbed at how often management can spin a story to make the player look bad in the press. D-Wil shows how it has been done before.

For example, the way Brady Quinn was vilified as an ungrateful kid for not signing with Cleveland after they "saved" him by drafting him, for example, was ridiculous. By their own admission, the Browns were trying to trade for him as soon as the 13th spot. So why did so many think the Browns could lowball him when the Browns would have drafted him as high as 13th if they could have? Management bias, of course, as the GM and coach did their best to spin the story in Cleveland to make Brady look bad.

Finally, thanks to The Extrapolater, True Hoop, and others who linked to my blogger ethics post. Thanks also to all who commented, especially brave souls Jack Cobra, Jordi, and SML who answered every question. Without participation, this site is dead. I'd estimate 80% of the enjoyment I derive from this site is from feedback from the reader, so thanks.

Guest Bias: Rec-Specs and The 2 Michelles

A Price Above Bip Roberts has decided to let me write another article as part of their "Most Influential" series. What a terrible mistake to let me talk about my favorite sports possession! Here's the Ode to Rec-Specs.

Also...um...*blush* Read the July 25,2007 entry from The 2 Michelles: http://2michelles.accountsupport.com/index.html. I had banned myself from putting female bloggers on my Random Sports Crush because I want to keep them all to myself err, I was worried about someone potentially stalking a female blogger if they were featured in an RSC post. But I may have to change my mind now. The 2 Michelles, even if you may not get an official RSC post quite yet, you both certainly already are an RSC to me for being so gracious in your words about my blog. I'm going to have to get a larger hat to fit my ego! Seriously, please do check out their site, as they are blogging about the NFL, a topic I sometimes under-post about on here. Here's their intro video they recently made to tell people who they are and why they are NFL fans:

Guest Bias: Price Above Bip Roberts

I finally am evening up my account with Ted by writing on his site after he guest-posted here. I wrote about major media mogul The Cavalier from Yaysports.com. When I first found his site I was completely in awe of the Cavalier; he did graphics, video, and text! It must be the feeling Atari fans had when the first Nintendo came out, ha. Thankfully, the Cavalier has since developed a weak point or two in his blogging game, which I mercilessly mocked in the article, but he's still one of the greats. Read the article here.

Guest Bias: Barry Bonds Article on The Starting Five

For once, it's me guest-writing on another site. Writing this article helped me realize how much more practice I need at the short essay/column form, but hopefully you can get something out of it. My take on Barry Bonds and the media actually being peers (much as they would hate to admit it) is at The Starting Five.

Oh, and don't forget that the ladies from Babes Love Baseball will be live-blogging the All-Star game tonight at Deadspin.com; I'm sure it'll be well-done and funny. Check it out.

Bloggolalia: Catching Them on the Way Up

The Extrapolater has graciously agreed to weigh in on the topic of gaps in sports blog land. He wrote on Catching Them on the Way Up here. He talks about covering minor-league players before they are stars and covering small-school teams and obscure sports. Very comprehensive and highly recommended.

And if you haven't weighed in or read my post on the technology gap, here, take a look. The post has authentic video footage of a blogger and blogger-created video, so check it out and let me know what you think.

If you'd like to take a turn at analyzing gaps and growth possibilities in sports blogging, by all means, let me know and I'll link to your article.

There may not be a post tomorrow, as I did more posting today than I had planned on.

Guest Bias: The Short And Happy Life of a Royals Middle Reliever

So you let a guy post a guest blog, and he thinks he knows what he's talking about. Ted Bauer is back for more punishment. He maintains a decent blog A Price Above Bip Roberts , but he tends to go a bit overboard on some of his claims. For example, he seems to think - in contrast to my ever-so-eloquent Benchwarmers post of Monday - that the life of a benchwarmer is all sunshine and lollipops, specifically when you play on a bad team. He also seemed to think, back at the beginning of the week, that the BoSox would shatter the spirits of the Royals off the proverbial bat. Er, that didn't happen. Check his rants, penned Sunday, then let him know just how wrong he is.

When I sat down to write something for my associate MC Bias, I started out with a meandering, poetic essay on "what baseball means to the American soul," peppered with a few references to Jim Nantz's place in the sports culture this week. I realized it pretty much sucked, and who could give a rat's ass what I think about baseball's place in our hearts?

I scrapped that in favor of something on Joe Torre, because I firmly believe this is probably his last year at River Avenue, but then I realized there are far more interesting, informed surveyors of Joe Torre's time in the Bronx, so I scrapped that.

I needed something, though. I mean, at the time the Mets game is 6-1, I was Instant Messenging with a girl I knew in high school in a futile effort to get some and slowly realizing she basically has a boyfriend, and I had little else to kill my time. Then it hit me: a diary. An Opening Day Diary of a Royals middle reliever.

In stark contrast to Mr. Bias, I used to tell people back when that I think the ultimate dream job would be Kansas City Royals middle reliever. You make the league minimum, which automatically makes you richer than half of America; then, you basically get paid to plug holes. See, playing for KC in this day and age, you're almost never going to enter a meaningful situation. Either the starter got absolutely rained down upon, and you're on the short side of a 7-1 game, or you're mopping up something, or you're bridging to a closer no one really thinks can close in a game everyone expects you to lose.

Basically, you make a lot of money to travel around the United States for a summer, telling girls you play professional baseball, seeing a lot of ballparks, working maybe 100 innings, and never really having a lot of responsibility. Sure, I mean, I bet the losing gets grating after a while, but doesn't the pressure of winning too?

If I were a KC middle reliever, here's how my day would look tomorrow:

11:45am
Arrive at ballpark. Exchange pleasantries with groundscrew and other assorted personnel I haven't seen for a while. Old Man Morty, one of the clubhouse guys, says to me, "I really think this is the year!" I smile and say, "Totally." I'm so full of crap, it's unbelievable. Providing false hope to a man close to the grave should be punishable with something horrible. Instead, I'm removing a paperback copy of the latest James Baldacci novel from my duffel bag. I'll be reading this by the 4th.

11:48am
Some of the dudes arrive. We, too, exchange pleasantries. Someone yelps, "Who the hell are we playing today, anyway?"

12:02pm
Jersey'ed up - I sometimes think the KC jersey is embedded with a sweet stench of failure that high-quality free agents can smell, like one of those dog whistle kind of deals - I take the field at Kauffman. A few VIPs are milling about, and some hardcore fans. I take my first deep breath of the spring. Nothing like the smell of napalm in the morning.

12:40pm
I'm limbering up playing catch with a few guys in the outfield. A fan asks for my autograph. "Any idea who I am?" I ask. "None," he admits. "But you're wearing the jersey." Imagine if it was really that easy in other professions to become revered. "Do you know what accounts I manage?" "Not a clue, but you're wearing the suit."

1:10pm
David Ortiz walks around the batting cages with Manny Ramirez. They take a few practice hacks. I'm pretty sure one of them landed by Bill Self's toupee over in Lawrence. I turn to my brethren and mouth, "Oh crap." They are just staring straight ahead.

2:00pm
I'm up in the bullpen now, sitting around and not doing much of anything. Meche, who we're calling "Millions" until he bloodies one of us at a bar later this week, is throwing around. Me and the guys are scoping out a few females slowly filing into the bleacher area. "Think this year will be better than last, overall?" one asks. The bullpen catcher chimes in with a new question: "Best road trip of the past season?" I vote for Seattle, which pleases Millions. "I was making out with this girl at this tiki bar," I begin, before the pitching coach shows up. I quickly halt my story. He glares at me, then smiles. "It's Opening Day, baby," he intones. "Nothing like that."

2:02pm
I see a fan with a paper bag on his dome. Nothing like it.

3:48pm
Millions is tossing his final practice pitches near us. I've cracked the Baldacci book already - we were on the field too early - and am already near the beginning of Chapter 2. One of the guys is starting his first Hot Foot of the season, aiming for the bullpen catcher as a target. A few girls have winked or waved ("The Essential Ws," as we call it) down at us already. Millions looks nervous. "Hey Millions," I bellow, drawing a glare. "Don't sweat the small stuff out there, you know? No one expects anything." He stares at the ground, then looks back at me as if to say something, then stares back at the ground. "It's KC, baby," I finish. A good middle reliever can always get the last word, because when else does he? "If it ain't BBQ, it don't matter." Millions smiles and begins his trot to the dugout.

4:05pm
National Anthem is gearing up; I'm wondering if they'd let me take a laptop out here. I'm then wondering if Kauffman is wired for WiFi. I wonder if it would be a seminal moment of my career if I took a "wireless dump" in the bullpen of Kauffman. This Baldacci book isn't too well paced; once we sit down, I'm headed to my bullpen bag for some US Weekly. I heard there's an article about Katie Holmes and Chris Klein's torrid sexual history together, and it possibly being rekindled. That's some good stuff.

Guest Bias: Hibbert Essay

For a long time now, I've wanted to have a guest post on this blog, and I'm pleased to announce I finally found a guest blogger. In the hopes that we have more than one of these (yes, you too can volunteer), I'm titling the feature "Guest Bias."

Ted of A Price Above Bip Roberts' fame ( go here ) has been blogging strong all week long about Georgetown. I suggested he tell us more about Roy Hibbert. Here we have a 7'2" center from Georgetown who's still rather unknown to many college basketball fans! Surprising, especially in light of the big man legacy of the Hoyas. Ted fills us in below. Thanks Ted!

You gotta figure - well, if you went to Georgetown at least, like I did - that Thad Matta can't be too happy about this draw. I mean, if he had gotten UNC, he'd have a little reason to be scared - after all, UNC beat OSU this season already - but he would know what every hoops head in America also knows: Oden didn't play that game. With all apologies to the dagger-dropping of Ron Lewis and the oft-undiscussed skills of Mike Conley Jr, the true "man in the middle," literally and figuratively, for these Final Four Buckeyes is Oden.

And on Saturday, the biggest advantage that Matta and crew have every game is, essentially, neutralized before the opening tip: because in all likelihood, the guy standing across from Oden before "the ball is tipped" (apologies to Luther Vandross) is taller, and in some respects maybe better, than the frosh sensation.

Greg Oden, meet Roy Hibbert.

Hibbert, a 7-2 center for Georgetown who was hot for college basketball writers when the season began - we heard stories about how he always wanted to go to GU, how he was the next great center in a lineage that includes Ewing, Mourning, and Mutombo but seemed to fade a bit with Boumtje-Boumtje and Freeman, and how him vs. Aaron Gray would decide the Big East. Over time, though, Hibbert's own classmate Jeff Green came to steal the headlines, and in the process, the Big East Player of the Year Award.

But, as predicted, it was still Hibbert who decided the Big East, in the sense of his 18 point, 11 rebound performance in an absolute thumping of Pittsburgh in the Conference Tournament Finals (I was there, about 45 rows up, among all Pitt fans; they didn't like me). Gray that same game? 1 of 13 from the field, 3 points. I had to drive back to work at 3am in the rain, with a daylight savings time change screwing me, and you know what? It was still worth it.

Hibbert's Big East title game performance is just the latest in a string of fine, quality outings by the "Big Fella" (apologies to Gus Johnson there). He first made a name for himself - Irony Alert - last year in the second round against a different Ohio State team, when he propelled the Hoyas into a battle with Florida. We'd ultimately lose that game in part because Hibbert (and Green) didn't have the endurance to rock out with Horford and Noah for 40 minutes. Now, they seemingly do.

See, Hibbert started slow this year - 11 points and 2 rebounds in 30 minutes when we lost to Pitt in January; 10 points and 5 rebounds against a Seton Hall team he should have owned later that month - but then, he picked it up. And when he did, we (in the collective sense) did as well. 20 points and 11 boards against Louisville, in a game we really needed at the time; 23 and 11 in the very next game, vs. ranked Marquette; and 20 and 6 when we pasted West Virginia in the one after that. We needed all those, and we got them in large part because of Roy.

Hibbert's got a little problem with foul trouble, sure - it almost cost us in the Big East Semis against Notre Dame, a game that Green basically threw on his back as it progressed - but check this: since Pittsburgh in the conference finals, the man in the middle in blue and gray hasn't gone for less than a double-double. Against BC? 17 and 12, willing us back. Against UNC and "Crazy T?" 13 and 11, despite foul trouble.

I'll be the first to admit, Hibbert makes mistakes - i.e. fouling - and he's not the most mobile man on the court. Hansborough and now Oden are both capable of moving around him, but that doesn't necessarily mean they'll be able to, or victory will be secure for them. Also consider: in the two losses of Ohio State's that Oden actually took the court in (Wisconsin and Florida), he was - yes, yes, I know, he was less than 100 percent - harassed by an aggressive, physical inside game: Brian Butch on Wisconsin, and Horford/Noah/et al on Florida. Georgetown can do that too, with Ewing, Summers, Macklin, Green, and the Biggest of the Big, Mr. Hibbert.

So take a good look before the ref heaves the rock skyward, Mr. Oden (can I really call you Mr? Alright, granted, you look 41). You haven't seen anything like this one yet.

Check Ted's site for more Hoya perspective during the Final Four.