As the First Half Comes to a Close

Dark Wednesday is upon us once again. The day after the MLB All-Star Game.

No baseball. No basketball. No football. No hockey. Pro-am day for golf, qualifying day for NASCAR. All that's left is analysis of the All-Star Game, which will be pretty straightforward today: the American League got their butts thoroughly kicked by the National League.

Black Wednesday does hold a special place as the virtual halfway point in the calendar year, and as such, gives us a chance to look back at the first half of the year in sports. Especially since, you know, nothing else is going on.

The crowning of the king

Two years ago, we wanted to crown their asses, and we finally crowned them in June. The Miami Heat won their championship, and LeBron James finally got the ring that was preordained for him upon his entrance into the league nine years ago. For many NBA fans (this writer included), this was to be the apocalypse come early. LeBron's famous "Decision" went against all we held dear about the NBA: legendary gladiators entering the arena against other larger-than-life figures. Russell vs. Wilt, Kareem against Walton, Magic and Bird, Jordan and Shaq.

LeBron distorted that stained-glass memorial to the greatest NBA past when he decided to join Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh in Miami. Basketball is the sport of personal pride and achievement more than any other, where you work to be better than the man in front of you for 48 minutes. James couldn't beat the other guys, so he joined them, and unlike the playground, there was no reshooting for teams.

Ultimately, the super-stacked team won after a surprising loss, and at the final buzzer, the world did not tilt off its axis. Life has gone on. The moral of the story? The Heat may have won this year, but next year is not a given. Just like the Bulls of the '90s, the target is squarely on Miami's back. And make no mistake: the guns are loaded.

Thanks for nothing, Justin

The MLB All-Star Game was decided early, as Justin Verlander gave up five runs in the first inning en route to an 8-0 victory for the National League. After years of AL dominance, the senior circuit has won the last three Midsummer Classics. I can't say it's Ron Washington's fault even though he's managed the last two games; at some point, the AL hitters have live up to those lofty batting averages.

Who I can definitely fault is Verlander and Detroit. The Tigers were supposed to run away with the AL Central Division this year following the acquisitions of Prince Fielder and underrated pitcher Doug Fister, but have instead floundered to a 44-42 record at the break, 3.5 games behind the White Sox. No starter besides Verlander has an ERA under four, and the Tigers are in the bottom half of the league in team ERA and fielding percentage. You know the adage: pitching and defense win championships.

It'll be an exciting second-half in the Central. The White Sox still have to prove they are more than a first-half surprise and hold off the Tigers and Indians, both of whom are within striking distance of the top. Still, no matter which AL team makes it to the World Series, they can thank Justin Verlander for their disadvantage. Should have started Chris Sale, Wash!

Second-Half Hitmen

Speaking of the boys in black and white pinstripes, the White Sox might have finally figured it out. They rode a wave of momentum into the break, splitting four games with the red-hot Yankees in New York, sweeping the Rangers at home and finally winning a series against their personal kryptonite, the Toronto Blue Jays (and coming within a clutch hit of sweeping them). The Tigers have started to get it together a bit, but the Sox have maintained a good lead. Kevin Youkilis has become an instant hero, Jose Quintana is the latest underrated young hurler, and Robin Ventura has made everyone except me forget about Ozzie Guillen following in LeBron's footsteps. If it weren't for the Nationals and Pirates, the Sox would be the story of the year.

Now comes the difficult part of the year. 16 of their next 19 games are on the road, including three with Detroit. The Sox survived the nationwide heat wave, but the worst of July and August lie ahead. John Danks and Phil Humber need to come back and Paul Konerko must regain his early-season stroke for the Sox to win the division. The (Paper) Tigers won't stay down for too long.

Wilted Rose

The crushing reality of Derrick Rose's fourth-quarter injury in Game 1 of the NBA playoff season has become an itchy scab for most Chicagoans by now. Reports surfaced last week via TMZ that Rozay was spotted coming out of an LA club early in the morning. For any other high-flying 23-year-old, this is not news, but for an injured hometown superstar, it was akin to Marion Berry smoking crack. "HOW COULD DERRICK GO TO THE CLUB BUT NOT RUN UP AND DOWN THE FLOOR ON A TORN ACL????" was the crazed thought floating through the minds of Bulls fans.

Listen: Rose is injured and very doubtful for this coming season. At most, he'll play the last month of the year and the playoffs. Worst case scenario: he's held out for the entire year and Chicago will have to watch Miami defend their title without the chance to knock the South Be-aches off their pedestal. I know it hurts, but this is the way it has to be. We went through awful injuries on the Bears and Blackhawks last year that killed all our playoff dreams, but such is life. Rose will be back and with proper time to heal, he will be stronger. All we have to do is support the Bulls until the Legend of Murray Playground returns to the court.

Here we go...

Only six and a half hours of Dark Wednesday are left, sports fans. Tomorrow is a full slate of baseball and  more prep for the Summer Olympics. Go outside and make your own sports memories today; tomorrow, we're back to it.

See you in the cheap seats.

JS

White Sox vs. Cubs: The Saga Continues

It's been a topic of nationwide concern for months. This weekend, leaders of the Western Hemisphere meet in President Obama's adopted hometown of Chicago for this year's NATO summit. Police and citizens are on high alert, storeowners fear unruly protesters and many Chicagoans just want NATO to go somewhere else.

Traffic is sure to be backed up on South Lake South Drive for miles (for once, I'm happy to be out of the city). Vocal opponents of the current so-called "New World Order" (as opposed to the former NWO) plan to protest the event and do their best to disrupt the summit.

These possible demonstrations pale in comparison to the fierce battle that will take place approximately 6.5 miles north of McCormick Place. The ongoing civil war, renewed each year about the time schoolchildren bid goodbye to the classroom for three months and the calendar officially turns over to summer.

The fight for bragging rights. The clash of the city. The war of Chicago.

Cubs vs. White Sox.

Even in a slow-starting year for both teams, the intercity series is bound to be hotly contested once again. Cubs and White Sox beats the stuffing out of Mets-Yankees, Dodgers-Angels, Athletics-Giants and the always marquee matchup of Twins-whoever they'll play.

No matter the year, this matchup of Chicago's finest promises to provide some great moments. Here's a few the Sox provided. (Ed. note: This is going to be biased in favor of the Sox, because the Cubs really suck.)

July 1, 2006: White Sox 8, Cubs 6

About 40 days earlier, the Sox whipped the lousy Cubs (no, really, they were bad that season) in front of a packed house at U.S. Cellular Field. However, then-Cubs catcher Michael Barrett gave Cubs fans a measure of vengeance when he punched fellow backstop A.J. Pierzynski square in the jaw following a play at the plate (more on that later).

Flash forward to the first of July. The scene has shifted to Wrigley Field, and the Cubs and Sox have gone punch-for-punch all day. Aramis Ramirez is a single shy of the cycle and has driven in five runs, and after a pinch-hit Paul Konerko tied the game in the top of the seventh, Jacque Jones knocked one out to give the Cubs the advantage in the bottom half.

The Sox are down to their last out in the top of the ninth, and Ryan Dempster is poised to lock down the save. The Cub fans, in the midst of a disappointing season, will have something to cheer about, on national television, no less.

It's not clear if A.J. had revenge for the punch on his mind, but he certainly made sure the Cubs didn't forget. On a 1-1 pitch from Dempster, Pierzynski ripped a deep fly onto Sheffield Avenue and arrogantly flipped his bat toward the Cub dugout. Boos and trash rained onto the field and when the final pitch was thrown, the White Sox had come from behind to win, 8-6.

The Sun-Times sports headline the next day? It simply read, "Take That." Take that, indeed.

June 28, 2008: White Sox 6, Cubs 5

Ah, 2008. The most famous summer of dreams in Chicago history. The unfathomable was unfolding: the Cubs and White Sox had a stranglehold on first place in their respective divisions. For the first time in 102 years, it was possible that the North Siders and South Siders could meet in the World Series.

That's right. Eat your heart out, NATO summit.

True to their 2008 form, the Cubs and Sox dominated at their home parks, and the city series was no different. The Cubs swept the Sox at Wrigley, with Aramis Ramirez late inning heroics taking the Friday game and a scintillating performance from Ryan Dempster sealing the sweep. White Sox fans burned while the Cubs celebrated. It would be a tough task to return the favor at the Cell.

Well, maybe not that tough.

The White Sox murked Ryan Dempster and the Cubs on Friday afternoon and shut down the North Siders on Sunday night behind homers from Brian Anderson (remember him?) and Jim Thome. The Saturday game, however, provided all the drama of the series. Derrek Lee went off, driving in three runs in the first four innings, while rookie shortstop Alexei Ramirez continued his hot hitting, tying the game in the bottom of the fourth with a home run. The bullpens on either side dug in, not allowing a run until the eighth inning. Then fortune shone on the Sox.

It was Carlos Marmol time.

Young slugger Carlos Quentin led off the eighth against Marmol and on what looked like an emergency swing, lifted a deep fly ball to right field. Instead of dropping into Kosuke Fukudome's glove, the ball landed in the seats, giving the Sox the lead. After a Derrek Lee double put a scare into the home fans, Bobby Jenks nailed down the save.

It wasn't the first time the season series ended in a tie, but it was the first time two heavyweight Chicago clubs had fought to a draw. The playoff future looked bright, and even though it ended rather suddenly for both teams, 2008 remains my favorite season of baseball.

May 20, 2006: White Sox 12, Cubs 2


It remains the indelible moment of the Chicago baseball rivalry: Michael Barrett tumbling head-over-heels as AJ Pierzynski slams his hand onto home plate. It's true that the series had wacky characters before the arrival of AJ and Carlos Zambrano (who gets honorable mention for cursing out Derrek Lee and destroying a Gatorade cooler), but Pierzynski, who is the only Major Leaguer who is booed at every single road game, has added the necessary spice to the annual series.

The preceding play is simple: Brian Anderson hits a medium fly ball to left field. Matt Murton (wow, this whole post is a trip down memory lane) fires home as AJ races in from third. Barrett blocks the plate before receiving the ball, and Pierzynski runs through him, and emphatically pounds home plate. Barrett grabs Pierzynski and yells, "I didn't have the ball" into his face before clocking him with a short right hand. Benches clear, Scott Podsednik tackles Barrett, and Anderson gets into it with John Mabry. A few minutes later, Tadahito Iguchi sends a grand slam into the left field bleachers and the rout is on.

The aftermath? Pierzynski dyes his hair and beard blond before going back to his natural brown, all while being one of the few starting catchers in the AL who doesn't make the transition to DH or first base. Meanwhile, Michael Barrett is waived in free agency and ends up in San Diego before making the transition to the Oaxaca League in southern Mexico.

The present day


The White Sox won yesterday in Anaheim, pushing their record to a stellar 18-21, four and a half games behind the division-leading Indians. The Cubs are even deeper in the muck at 15-23, dead last in the NL Central.

What does that mean for this series? Absolutely nothing. Throw records, streaks and odds out the window when this series start. Sabremetricians are not invited to the Crosstown Classic.

Phil Humber, he of the third perfect game in White Sox history and resultant 9.45 ERA, takes the mound against former Notre Dame football star Jeff Samardzija.

My prediction? Humber and Samardzija throw gems over seven innings, the Cubs take the lead on a sac fly in the eighth, only for Dayan Viciedo to come off the bench in the ninth and blast a two-run homer onto Waveland Avenue. Of course, it could just be an unruly slugfest.

See you in the cheap seats, Chicago. 1:20 pm, at the corner of Clark and Addison.

Oh, and if you were wondering who D-Rose will be cheering for on his couch this weekend...

South Side, all day.

JS

"Even When I Was Close to Defeat..."

I know you've seen it, but it's important to remember the moment.

Remember? The Bulls were cruising toward an easy victory in Game 1 against Philly. The stage was set for another five-game first round series (maybe even four if Rose played this well), a few contrite comments from Doug Collins, and the determined march to the rematch with Miami in the Eastern Conference Finals.

Bulls fans were dreaming of it. This was the year we had the pieces in place. A strong team without Rose would be unstoppable with him, even at 90 percent.

Then, the weight of a city's expectations became too much to bear for Derrick Rose's left knee, and it bucked under the pressure. The air went out of the United Center with a discernible gasp. Expressions of exuberance turned somber in an instant. The future that had been so bright only seconds before was inexplicably cloudy.

What had just happened?

As it turns out, the Bulls had been struck by the worst sports luck of the year. Two games later, Joakim Noah went down with a sprained left ankle, and the Sixers put their foot on the Bulls' throat. 

Only ten days ago, the Chicago-Miami matchup was a hot topic of discussion even for the most hardened of sportswriter. Now, it's Game 5 with the Bulls on the brink of elimination.

History repeats

The Bulls are not unique in this respect. There have been many teams who had their superstar go down with a bad injury and subsequently saw their season go down the drain. The 1973-74 Milwaukee Bucks lost Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to a broken hand in the preseason; the Patriots had Tom Brady tear his ACL in their first game of the 2008; Michael Jordan broke his foot early in the 1985-86 season and didn't return until right before the playoffs (although he did score 112 points in his first two playoff games against what Bill Simmons calls the greatest NBA team of all time).

For me, Derrick Rose's injury harshly reminds me of 2008. The Chicago White Sox were 77-59 and firmly in control of the AL Central with one month to go in the regular season. The ChiSox had the surprising Gavin Floyd and the steady Mark Buerhle leading the way, but the real motor for the Sox' success was MVP candidate Carlos Quentin. The super-intense Quentin had been crushing baseballs all season alongside stalwart Jim Thome and was leading the way in the American League.

Then, on September 1, Quentin smacked his bat after missing a pitch against Cleveland's Cliff Lee (who was on fire that season). The next day, reports surfaced that Quentin had broken a bone in his wrist and would be out for the remainder of the season. 

The Sox nearly collapsed down the stretch, surviving to make one of the most remarkable playoff entrances in league history as they won three straight elimination games at the end of the season. That would be all for the "Fighting Sox", as they lost in the first round to the Tampa Bay Rays.

It was left for the entire South Side fan base to wonder what if CQ had been healthy and available to play, especially since he never came close to his 2008 production again.

A wounded bull is more dangerous

Bulls fans weren't too worried about Rose's injury; after all, he had been out for almost half the season with various maladies and the Bulls had compiled a .667 winning percentage without him. The first half of Game 2 seemed to prove that, as Kyle Korver and John Lucas III led the Bulls to a 55-47 margin. Then, the Sixers took over and stunned the Bulls in a blowout win.

The series returns to Chicago tonight, and everyone has counted the Bulls out after two efforts in Philly fell short. The Sixers are poised to be the fourth eighth-seeded team to defeat a top seed in the NBA playoffs, albeit the first to do it after two significant injuries to the top-seeded team. Joakim Noah is day-to-day, Luol Deng has been unable to get going, and with Noah out, Spencer Hawes has come up big.

The outcome is bleak and the long offseason looms with stomach-turning nightmares of what might have been. So the question must be raised: is this really it?

The Bulls have a chance to win Game 5. They are at home and backed into a corner. The Sixers have not been in this position to close out a team on the road in the playoffs since the Iverson days, and they still don't have a finisher. The Bulls know the situation and have the crowd behind them.

The mood of Bulls fans has been despondent after the lost weekend, and they've come face-to-face with the realization that it may be Miami's championship season. That doesn't mean they should lose hope.

The Bulls beat Miami without Rose. They beat Boston without Rose. They beat the Pacers without Rose. They have the tools, they have the will. It's time to make one final pull on the rope.

To paraphrase Dr. Dre, we're close to defeat, so we must rise to our feet. If all else fails, the White Mamba is waiting.

See you in the cheap seats.

JS

"It's a Celebration": The 10 Best NBA Celebration Dances, Part 1

As soon as our Caterpillar recreational basketball league started, our team discussed our most important strategy: what dance we would do after we hit a shot. Most guys went with the Discount Double-Check (dick riders). Being a Bears fan, I chose not to ride the Aaron Rodgers wave and settled on the Clark Kent (check the jump).

Two months later, our record is a dismal 3-10, our team is fracturing faster than Greg Oden, and we're looking ahead to softball season. But the celebrations haven't quit. There's been no sign of the DD-C, but me and my boy Thomas have taken to doing the Carlos Boozer yell (see below) after a big play. So that got me to thinking: what are the best NBA celebrations in the game right now? Don't worry, that's what we're here for at LitCS.

I want to yell "Grab that shit", but I think I'd get ejected.

10. The Blank Look (Blake Griffin)

What really needs to be said after you dunk on Kendrick Perkins' entire family tree?

9. The....What Is He Doing? (Russell Westbrook)

I'm never really sure what Russell Westbrook is on when he's dunking, but I need some of it. I'd get so much more work done. Or I'd just destroy things.

8. The Chest Pound/Sneer (Derrick Rose, Kevin Durant)

The face that says, "Get off my court, I'm king of this jungle." Or maybe he means "George of the Jungle".

7. The "Kobe Face" (Kobe Bryant)

If Kobe weren't so damn clutch in the late stages, I'd say he has a toothache.

6. The Step Over (Dwyane Wade via Allen Iverson)

There is nothing more disrespectful than stepping over the body of a fallen opponent. Where have you gone, Tyronn Lue?

What could be in the top 5? Look for the remainder of the list tomorrow night. Feel free to post videos of your favorite moves at the Life in the Cheap Seats group on Facebook.

JS

Derrick Rose: The Windy City Assassin

There is always the same face in the crowd.

No matter where the shot comes from or who takes it, there is always the face. As one set of players celebrate and the others slowly walk off the court, the face is always there, despairing and wishing the futile thoughts.

It can't have happened. It was too late. There's still time.


But it did happen, there was time, and now there isn't.

The face always tells the story.

The face was in Gund Arena on May 7, 1989, as a young man leaped into the air while his counterpart slumped to the wood, hands over his eyes.

Craig Ehlo.

It was there on the Spurs' bench on May 13, 2004, as a disbelieving Fish raced into the locker room.

 

Bruce Bowen.

Now, it's forever frozen on the face of a man in the Bradley Center last Wednesday night, as he looked skyward at the giant screen in bitter amazement.

Some random dude.

The face is never quite horrified or stunned. It's a mix of both, combined with that moment before anguish really hits home.

It is the face of defeat.

A killer inside

Almost exactly a year ago, an article was published in Sports Illustrated (click the jump to read), detailing exactly how Derrick Rose had risen to the top of the NBA's elite. The piece talked about Rose playing cutthroat after dark with his roommates in a north suburban gym and how he took his competitive edge from that gym to the courts of the Association. It was an engrossing read on its own, but the article was punctuated by a quote from (who else), the White Mamba:

There are the guys who get you the need baskets," says Bulls reserve forward Brian Scalabrine, referring to the vital hoops that stop runs and close out games. "I have a different word for killers. I call them mother-------. And right now, Derrick Rose is the baddest mother------ in the league by far. He is the reason we win.

Regular beat writers, sabremetricians, and Dan LeBatard would argue that this statement from Scal wasn't true a year ago, much less today. I would agree with them two weeks ago; Kevin Durant and LeBron James were clear front-runners for the MVP award. Even Rajon Rondo was doing more to carry his team than Rose, who had sat out with various maladies for some time this year.

Then Rose sank an impossible, hang-in-the-air, rainbow floater from behind the backboard over the outstretched arm of Andre Iguodala to lift the Bulls in Philadelphia. He and Luol Deng combined to payback the Pacers, and last week, Rose sank Milwaukee at the buzzer.

Last year, Rose wrested control of the game from the Bucks in the fourth quarter as easily as pulling a ripe apple from a tree. This year, with the threat of overtime on the road looming, Rose calmly dribbled between his legs, crossed over Brandon Jennings, took a hop-step backward and drained a 24-footer over Jennings' outstretched hand.

It was, as Bucks color commentator Jon McGlocklin noted, the first jump shot Rose had taken that night.

The NBA: where evil reigns supreme


In Conan the Barbarian, the Mongolian general asks Conan, "What is best in life?" and he delivers the famous line (borrowed from Genghis Khan): "To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you and to hear the lamentations of their women." So it is in the gladiator arena known as American professional sports. We wish to see our side thoroughly defeat the others so as they'll never be able to return from it. We lustily scream when fights and fisticuffs break out and boo the referees who come between them. We cheer when an opposing player or coach is ejected, and only go home happy if the other side can taste utter defeat while our guys relish in the day's victory.


American professional athletes have to straddle a fine line between mannered and grotesque. We want our players to "play nice" until crunch time comes. Then, we foam at the mouth for the earth-shattering dunks, long jumpers and blocks that will completely demoralize the other team. We, the screaming denizens of the cheap seats, want complete and final victory.

There are men who've realized that, and were elevated to hero status for it. Pete Rose played baseball with a motor constantly at 8,000 revolutions-per-minute, damn Ray Fosse's shoulder. Lawrence Taylor ended a man's career...and went on to star in movies. Michael Jordan talked about Bryon Russell in his Hall of Fame speech as if Russell had just challenged him to one-on-one in the parking lot.

All these men were reasonable men who turned into monsters when they stepped between the lines. And that's just what we wanted. As I said in the "The Kevin Durant Problem", we especially thirst for these cold-blooded ballers in the NBA. Men like Iverson, Shaq, Kobe, Magic and Bird who delighted in crushing their enemies on a daily basis further served to satisfy our visceral urges.

Bad mother-----s, as Brian Scalabrine would say. Now Derrick Rose is among them.

Linsanity arrives


Jeremy Lin showed a glimpse of the killer instinct fans crave when he dropped in a spot-up three over Jose Calderon and the Raptors a month ago, and when he turned Lakerland on its head by outdueling Kobe at Madison Square Garden. Still, the young man from Palo Alto has undergone some growing pains recently and the Knicks can't seem to get around being a break-even team.

Still, I defended Lin in this space, and will continue to do so. He is what purists such as Shaquille O'Neal and Zachary Casson Berg have been wishing for in the era of Rose and Westbrook: a traditional point guard. He can shoot the jumper, drive and score, pass well and hit free throws when fouled. But in this matchup with Derrick Rose, I will surprised if he comes out alive.

After all, Rose has proven himself to be an assassin in his young career. Every good assassin saves a bullet for the tougher targets.

And when Lin goes down, somewhere in New York, there will be the face.

The face is always there at the end.

See you in the cheap seats.

JS

The Winter of My Discontent

It's customary for Chicagoans to gripe about winter weather. We know it's coming, we're used to it, but we still get annoyed by the snow and the sleet and the slush.

Then, winter's like this one come along, and you don't know how to react. Temperatures in the 50s (the 60s, even!). A dearth of snow. No cold North wind. And it's February, which means the first signs of spring are only two weeks away: pitchers and catchers will report to spring training.

Spring training. I've always said with a child's naivete that spring training is the first true harbinger of summer, that first sound of baseballs hitting gloves. This year, however, spring training is the first reminder of the coldest, hardest fact of winter.

The White Sox are going to be bad.

The Sox have a new, untested manager. Their bullpen is going to be an experiment. Their most dependable pitcher and only championship manager of the last 90 years have both departed for Miami, and the teams in their division are only getting stronger.

Don't let the weather fool you. It's been a cold season for other reasons.

The White Sox: rebuilding, in three acts


It was a guarantee that Ozzie Guillen would be gone at the end of the season. The Sox had disappointed expectations once again, failing to even gain the division lead during the year, let alone make the postseason. But the departure of the Wiz was messy, even by South Side standards: Ozzie left with two games to go, and usual replacement manager Joey Cora took his leave following a message from Ken Williams that pitching coach Don Cooper would manage the remainder of the season.

Possible replacements were floated for Guillen: Terry Francona, Tony LaRussa, Joe McEwing. All men with some kind of major- or minor-league experience. So in true Sox fashion, management decided to swerve on folks and hired Robin Ventura. A well-known White Sox name, but a man who's only coaching experience was with his son's high school baseball team.

Then more news surfaced: free agent pitcher Mark Buerhle had signed a deal with the Miami Marlins. The Marlins, aside from signing everyone in the free world, had also announced Ozzie as their new manager. It was unthinkable: the fiery manager and outspoken top pitcher heading south for another title run.

If that weren't enough, the Detroit Tigers, the most hated team in the universe this side of the Monstars, signed Prince Fielder away from the Brewers. If that doesn't strike fear into your heart, let's look at the prospective starting lineup for Detroit:

Austin Jackson, CF
Brennan Boesch, LF
Prince Fielder, DH/1B
Miguel Cabrera, 1B
Victor Martinez, DH/C/1B
Magglio Ordonez, RF
Ryan Raburn/Ramon Santiago, 2B
Alex Avila, C
Brandon Inge, 3B

Sorry, I just about fainted. Meanwhile, Carlos Quentin is gone and the Sox have questions in the outfield and pitching staff. Will it be repeat of 2007? As the magic 8-ball says, "signs point to yes."

Bulls on the run


It might be hard to remember, but the Bulls didn't start all that well last year. They lost to Oklahoma City on Opening Night and started the season 9-8. Recall that this was the time when everyone was anxiously awaiting the return of Carlos Boozer from his hand injury. Try not to laugh angrily when you do.

This year was different. The Bulls stole a crazy game from the Lakers to start the year, avoided the circus trip due to the shortened season, and began the year 15-3. Even amid injuries to C.J. Watson, newly acquired Rip Hamilton, Joakim Noah, and Derrick Rose, the Bulls kept winning.

Then Luol Deng hurt his wrist against the Bobcats. Since Deng's injury, the Bulls are 3-3 and haven't beaten a team with a premier small forward (Indiana, Miami, Philadelphia). Many players have called Deng "the glue" for the Bulls. He's the man who can fill the holes they need on offense, and he's a solid defender. He also covers for Carlos Boozer on D, which the Bulls sorely need. A game against the Knicks and Carmelo Anthony should be another demonstration on how badly the Bulls need Luol Deng. Fortunately, his injury is on his non-shooting wrist and he should be back as soon as possible.

The BADley Braves


After an injury-plagued campaign last year and the firing of Jim Les, it was felt that Bradley men's basketball was on the rise. There was a new coach, a new system, new recruits and that optimistic feeling that comes with a new season of college basketball. I figured Bradley might have a dip in their record this year and start to trend up in 2012-13.

No one expected this.

Bradley took an absolute beating last night, losing 92-62. This is a bad game, no doubt, but it's made worse by three facts:

-The final score would have been worse had Jalen Crawford not sunk a halfcourt shot as time expired;
-This was the second-worst home loss in school history, the record being set earlier this year against Wichita State
-Bradley lost to Evansville, which had been the conference whipping boy for many years prior.

These 20- and 30-point losses are becoming all too commonplace for the Braves. I haven't read a Kirk Wessler column in a month for fear of either chopping the newspaper into bits or breaking into tears at work. I've also conveniently been "too busy", "too tired", or "too broke" to attend a Braves game since Christmas. This troubles me, as I was one of the greatest supporters of Bradley last year as they slogged through their bad year. "Through thick and thin," I shouted many times as fans left the arena with more than six minutes to play. "Where are you going? The game's not over!"

Excuses are the first sign of fan alienation, and it's a very short road to becoming that worst of supporters: a fair-weather fan. The Braves must get better, but it's important that fans like you and I continue to support them through these rough times. Keep wearing that Bradley red this year and keep heading to Carver Arena.

The February 25 game against ISWho might be the highlight of the season—if the Braves can win. If Bradley takes another tough loss to those lousy Redbirds, it might be the last straw of the year.

Let it go, let it go, let it go


The Bulls will recover. The Sox will tough it out. Bradley always has next year. Even though the sports inside may be frightful, spring is always around the corner for our heroes. Don't worry that times are bad now, they'll get better later. There's a brighter tomorrow...all right, I had to stop, I realized I was just trying to convince myself. Just listen to the song, and I'll see you in the cheap seats.

JS

I wonder if Carlos Boozer plays this after he has a bad game.

It's Luol Deng...to the Rescue?, Part 2

Luol Deng is a grown-ass man.

This phrase is not to be taken lightly. Men grow older every day, but as women are fond of saying, not all of them grow up.

Luol Deng used to be one of these childish men. He was soft, content to shoot jump shots and stay out of the lane. He was moody, a sullen figure on the bench in street clothes after his latest injury.

Somewhere in the midst of the 2010 playoffs, Lu grew up.

The Bulls were hopelessly outmatched by the Cavaliers that season, but Lu gallantly went toe-to-toe with an adamant LeBron James. He bodied James, he drove on him, he made plays. I finally stopped yelling obscenities at my television when he touched the ball.

Then, Tom Thibodeau was hired, the Bulls went on their determined run last year, and Luol Deng became the man. He was that most revered of sports terms: the glue. Deng was the indispensable player; the guy that holds the team together, the guy who fills in the gaps.

It was said that Derrick Rose was the MVP of the league, but Luol Deng was the MVP of the Bulls.

Luol Deng is a grown-ass man.

Pacing yourself


When Deng went down with a wrist injury last week, it was the latest in a rash of maladies that had affected the Bulls' roster. Rose had a sprained toe, Taj Gibson and Joakim Noah had sustained sprained ankles, Rip Hamilton's groin, CJ Watson's bad elbow. Aside from the astounding fact that Carlos Boozer had remained healthy through all this, the Bulls were severely banged up...but kept winning.

Then Deng went down in a blowout victory, and the injury was revealed to be more than a minor bump: a torn ligament in his non-shooting wrist.

The glue was gone.

The defense became shakier, as the Bulls started giving up big individual games and allowing teams to top the century mark. The offensive options were limited with Hamilton still on the shelf.

The Bulls' steady Winnebago that had been carving a path of destruction across the NBA landscape had become a Yugo, ready to shake itself to pieces at any moment.

The Indiana Pacers knew this, and Frank Vogel's chip-on-the-shoulder upstarts managed to deal the Bulls their first home loss of the season, as Chicago shot 40 percent for the game and scored only 16 points in the fourth quarter. The absence of Luol Deng loomed large as Danny Granger got loose late for several offensive rebounds.

The Last Jedi of (South) Sudan


The Bulls have their early-season marquee matchup tomorrow with the vaunted Miami Heat. Wade has returned from his own injury, LeBron is in usual form (though he still can't consistently hit a three), Shane Battier has given the Heat even more of a defensive presence and Norris Cole is all he was touted to be.

The Bulls would have had a tough matchup to begin with. But with no Deng, LeBron will have a much easier time to work. He might even record a field goal in the fourth quarter.

Proof that kings really hail from the motherland.

The Bulls have shown they can win without Deng, without Rose, shoot, they've shown they can win without half the active roster. But against a Miami Heat team at full strength, they will need every hand on deck, from  Derrick Rose to Mike James. Carlos Boozer will be better than he was last year against Chris Bosh. Joakim Noah will be better. Rip Hamilton will provide scoring and vision much better than Keith Bogans. But a major piece will be most likely be missing tomorrow, and it may be the most important one.

Help us, Luol Deng. You may be our only hope.

See you in the cheap seats.

JS

Court Vocabulary

I thought I was on another planet the first time I played a gave of five-on-five at Bradley.

"All right, we're going to 15 by ones and twos", the kid said. I stopped in my tracks.

"Ones and twos?"

"Yeah, ones and twos."

"You mean twos and threes?" I said. Now they looked at me like I was from another planet.

I hadn't played or watched any game of basketball that used ones and twos in my life. I was from Chicago, where every single game was played to 32 by twos and threes. Never mind that just about every game stopped after the first few makes to figure out the score, or that fouls only started getting called when one team was two or three baskets away from winning. That's how the game was played.

Basketball, like any sport, has its own unique vocabulary, and Chicago differentiates itself more still. So if you ever do want to play ball with Derrick Rose (or myself), you've got to talk the talk before you can skywalk the skywalk. Here's a quick guide of playground terms:

twos and threes: n. Traditional method of scoring a pickup basketball game. Used in Chicago (and I'm guessing in most of the world).

ones and twos: n. Second method for scoring a pickup basketball game. Used in practice by sanctioned teams and in South Central Illinois.

baby: v. To dominate another player during a game, usually in the post. Synonymous with "son". Ex.: Remember the '01 Finals, when Shaq babied Mutombo?

Oh, you didn't remember? Here's a reminder clip.

cash: n. inj. Phrase shouted when a player shoots a jump shot; used to taunt an opposing player. Syn. money, burner, cookies

crip: n. When players are shooting around and a player's shot is rebounded, he is usually given the ball back for one last shot or layup, called a "crip". If this is not given, it is a sign of disrespect ("You're not going to give me my crip, joe?")

hoop: v. To play basketball. Ex.: Where are people trying to hoop?

joe: n. Way of greeting another person. Used whether the person's name is known or not. Can also be spelled as "jo". Originated in Chicago. Ex.: Wassup, joe?

 "Wassup Jo" by Chicago/Pennsylvania duo Kidz in the Hall

son: n. 1. Way of greeting another person, used whether the person is known or not. Originated in New York City. 2. n. Derogatory term for another person. Ex.: You're not on my level, son.  2. v. To dominate another player on the court, usually in the post. Ex.: Did you see dude just son that fool from Garfield Park?

 As I said, this just a short glossary of terms, so if you have any more that you know, send them to my e-mail jakestanley17@yahoo.com. In the meantime, feel free to use any of these while you're watching the Bulls-Lakers game today. Here's a free one to get you started: "Dag joe, D-Rose just babied Steve Blake hard. Guess the Lake Show didn't come to hoop."

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and see you in the cheap seats.

JS

Who's Killing the NBA Season?

Last night, the Chicago Bulls and Dallas Mavericks opened the NBA season in one of the most anticipated matchups of the year. The reigning champs had all their stars back on the court and the Bulls, defeated by the Miami Heat in the Eastern Conference Finals, were hungry to show they had taken the next step.

It was a classic opening night battle. "Dizzy" Dirk Nowitzki made his usual flurry of awkward fadeaways, turnaround jumpers and hopsteps to the hole; Derrick Rose swooped and spun his way faster than DeShawn Stevenson could talk trash; Rick Carlisle's part was skillfully played by his body-double, Jim Carrey; and in a stunning move, Tom Thibodeau lost his voice before the game even started after one of his kids nearly ran out into traffic.

Seriously, I can't make this up.

The game was tied at 94-all with two minutes left in the fourth quarter. The fans in Dallas had whited-out the entire building; no one had been sitting since the start of the final stanza. Reggie Miller and Steve Kerr were fighting over the seat next to Marv Albert so they could do color for every D. Rose play. Caron Butler was still ugly, but shooting up a storm.

The stage was set: twenty seconds to go. Dallas with the ball, and Taj Gibson guarding the German. Carlos Boozer on the bench with his leg wrapped like a mummy (he got injured on the jump ball because his shoes were untied), screaming encouragement...

...while Joakim Noah and Mark Cuban were trading insults about each other's mothers.

Suddenly, the ball's in Dirk's hands. 10 seconds on the clock. Low post, one on one with Taj. No fouls to give, seven seconds. Dirk turns right, he turns left, six. Fakes right again, five, steps back, Taj steps with him, four, leans back and falls away, three, the shot goes up in an impossible arc, two, floats to the rim, one. And as the buzzer sounds, the ball touches the front rim...

Then I woke up. Another cloudy day in a basketball-free world.

I want myyyyyy, I want my N-B-A....

Last season was the best for the NBA since 2007-08. Not too long of a time span for sure, but you have to understand: that the season the Celtics created the first "Semi-Artificial Nucleus" in the history of the League (being that only one of the players was drafted by that team), leading to the Celtics and Lakers meeting in the Finals for the first time since 1987.

The two teams did not disappoint, even though the Celtics blew out Los Angeles in Game 6, as the series was a solid fight between storied franchises. The highlight was Paul Pierce faking his way to legendary status in Beantown after returning from a leg injury in Game 1. Oops, did I say faking? My fault, let Kenny and Charles say it for me:

"Oh, is this the fake Willis Reed moment?"

That Finals put the NBA solidly at the forefront of professional winter sports. Hockey will continue to jockey (ooh, rhyme) with the hardwood for prominence, but the NBA was back. Then last season, You-Know-Who took his talents to South Beach and put the bullseye on Miami for years to come, and that was before a raucous playoffs that saw:

-A #8 seed defeat a #1 seed for only the fourth time in history (Grizzlies over the Spurs);

-The Nuggets reach the playoffs without Carmelo;

-The Mavericks, long regarded as "soft", finally win their elusive ring;

-The Bulls-Heat begin what should be a long battle for Eastern dominance;

-The Hawks pull off a surprising victory over the Magic, fueling reports that Dwight may leave town;

-The possible final death knell of the Kobe Bryant-era in Lakerland after an embarrassing defeat to Dallas.

All that meant this season of the National Basketball Association was going to be rife with storylines, headlines and for once, not many punchlines (mostly how long Mike Brown was going to stay in L.A.). Forget the teams I named above: Ricky Rubio was finally coming to Minnesota, Blake Griffin had to following his ridiculous rookie season, the Cavs had Kyrie Irving and a small shot at redemption, the Pacers turned heads last year and New York would have 'Melo, Amare and Chauncey for a full season.

This season was going to be YUGE. An absolute financial waterfall for the money men involved. Then, someone turned off the faucet. The question is, who?

The unusual suspects

For once, I can't blame David Stern for this one. He's the commissioner, yes, and he does have final say, but I doubt King David is throwing a wrench into these labor talks. However, the possible culprits are out there.

The owners

'Woe is me' is the call from the lofty perch of NBA ownership. According to the espn.com synopsis of the work stoppage, the owners say they're losing money due to high player salaries and a soft salary cap. I'm not one for business sense at all, but it seems to me that sports franchise owners are the ones who started this trend of paying ridiculous amounts of money for players to come to their teams (George Steinbrenner, rest in peace). That's my opinion, though, and the owners want a hard cap to stop their money losses. Seeing as they don't play the game and usually are earning capital outside of their franchises (see: Jay-Z/Mikhail Prokhorov, Jerry Reinsdorf, Clayton Bennett), the owners have no problem standing pat until a solution is reached—even if the season has to be cancelled.

The NBPA (the players union)

The players say the owners get enough cash from ticket and TV revenues and that revenue sharing would solve many teams problems. They also want a short collective bargaining agreement (the owners want 10 years; the players want less).

Now, if you think of the NBA as America, specifically this "1% vs. the 99%" argument, the 99% of players earn less than $500,000 dollars a year, give or take. Many of these guys are rookies, backups, 10th-and-11th men, or career D-leaguers. The 1% are your Kobes, LBJs, D-Wades, Steve Nashes, D-Roses and so on. The problem is all of those guys really do love basketball and are hurting themselves by not playing. A few have gone overseas (check the video below of Brian Scalabrine tearing up the Italian league), but the majority are working out and killing time. NBPA president Derek Fisher is taking the hard line on this issue, but the players seemingly have more at stake.

The NFL

Didn't see this one coming, did you? Not only was the NFL lockout during the same period as the NBA labor trouble, it was more newsworthy when football finally did return. I wrote that it was disgusting how fans just forgave and forgot since their beloved NFL was back, but a side effect of it was that people didn't seem to really care about no basketball. With fans firmly set in their armchairs for a considerably weak football season, the NBA will take a backseat on the sports pages and in the minds of fans around the country.

The culprit is....

Really, all three are to blame. Derrick Rose has said that it's silly for players and owners to be arguing over millions of dollars during the U.S. economic hardship, and he's right. For both sides to be contending over this much money really is silly, especially when both will benefit no matter what. The days of owners shorting players so badly they have to get second jobs in the offseason are long gone.

The first two weeks of the season have been cancelled, and the lockout has no end in sight. With the Blackhawks stumbling out of the gate and the Bears mediocre once again, it would be very nice to watch D-Rose and Co. flying up and down the court each night. So, someone, please, end the lockout. I think I've run out of Bulls clips to watch on YouTube...

Okay, now I have.

See you in the cheap seats.

JS

The Top Five Rivalries in the Game Today...

I've talked about how I realize that sports is a business many times in the space, and I've talked about how I hate that fact. I wish sports was completely pure and free of external complications of contracts, agents and dollars. But spectator sports are what they are because of spectators, and we spectators don't come to watch a game. We come to watch drama play out. We pack buildings and stadiums to watch an age-old drama unfold: the idea of "our good versus their evil."

Nowhere is this more present than in rivalry games. Sometimes they are defined by physical proximity.  Sometimes they are defined by one side having what the other side wants. Sometimes, they're sparked in one fiery instant of passion.

No matter the case, rivalries take sports to another level. It takes athletes from a "both teams played hard"-mentality to the level of "we didn't want to just beat them, we wanted to humiliate them"-mindset. The fans get into it, the players get into it, the announcers get into it. That's when sports become more than sports.

So who claims the greatest rivalry right now? It's tough, since in the age of ESPN almost everyone who plays each other can claim to be a rival, but some bragging rights games just have more significance than others. These are my best current rivalries in U.S. sports.

Honorable Mention: Florida State-Florida, Ohio State-Michigan, Ravens-Steelers, White Sox-Tigers, Reds-Cardinals, Lakers-Mavericks.

5. The Rock-John Cena

This wouldn't have made the list if it wasn't for Dwayne Johnson. Anyone who's ever watched professional wrestling knows The Rock's skill on the microphone. He's a legend among fans for his charisma, wrestling ability and knack for dissing other wrestlers before (and during) matches.

This rivalry was built back in 2006, when John Cena had an interview to promote his movie "12 Rounds". In the interview, Cena dissed The Rock for saying he was never going to leave the WWE and then going "Hollywood". In the years following, Cena has become a polarizing figure for wrestling fans in the so-called "PG era": newer, younger fans rally around his image and merchandise, while older wrestling fans (veterans of the "Attitude" era") decry him for his limited moveset and constant holding of one of the major WWE championships.

The buzz has been going for years on a Rock-Cena match, and finally, Vince McMahon brought The Rock back and granted the fans' wish. Rock cost Cena the championship at Wrestlemania and the next night, the two men set a match for next year's Wrestlemania. In the meantime, the Rock delivered some epic promos, including this doozy below (NSFW):

Sports entertainment or not, this is going to be a great buildup to a hopefully great match. Tip for fans: order this year's Survivor Series for an appetizer.

4. Floyd Mayweather-Manny Pacquiao

I know I've already covered this in "The Fight That Never Comes". Still, it's worth mentioning because of the hype that has been built not by promoters or the fighters themselves, but by the people. Everyone who loves boxing wants this fight, and I don't think they care if they get it in 2012 or 2022. I'll say again: "Money" controlled his fight with Victor Ortiz before the controversial knockout and he's never been a patsy in the ring. Fight fans can say all they want about Manny cleaning him up, this will be a great fight—if it ever happens.

3. Tampa Bay Rays-Boston Red Sox

Oh no, you thought I was going to say Red Sox-Yankees, didn't you? Well, too bad. That rivalry's going on the next list (trust me, anyone who hates seeing Derek Jeter on Sunday Night Baseball all summer is going to love that list). This is a much fresher and much more interesting rivalry for baseball.

The (Devil) Rays were once a floundering team who looked as if they'd never move past "expansion" status. Then they changed their name, their uniforms, stopped picking up veterans at the end of their careers and acquired some talented draft picks. It was only a matter of time before they began barking with the big boys in the AL East, and the bully on the block happened to be the BoSox. It started with a James Shields haymaker that came sooooo close to knocking out CoCo Crisp in 2008 and most recently, the Rays landed the shot that knocked Boston out of the playoffs. If that weren't enough, the Rays came back from nine games back in the standings to push out the Carmines.

These teams are incredibly talented on both sides of the ball and are perennial favorites for the AL East crown and the American League Wild Card. I'm excited to watch these squads go at it. Unlike the perpetual Yankees-Red Sox yawners jammed down our throats.

2. New York Jets-New England Patriots

I didn't give New York vs. New England any play in Major League Baseball, but NYC and Boston will never been anything but adversaries. Since the colonial days when the nation's capital hopped between them, the two cities have never seen eye-to-eye. Now they have another great rivalry to clash over. Last year, the Patriots humiliated the Jets (along with nearly everyone else) on their march to the playoffs and it seemed natural they'd do it again in the divisional playoffs.

And then Mark Skywalker and Bart "Lando Calrissian" Scott defeated the Evil Empire in a shocking win. Wes Welker's "foot-in-mouth" pregame interview was trumped by Scott's "CAN'T WAIT!" spot. Never mind all the smack talk: this is a solid rivalry and one that should be that way for years to come.

All I can say about this one...

And now, the top rivalry in U.S. professional sports today....

1. Chicago Bulls-Miami Heat

Damn you, David Stern. Damn you, NBA owners. Damn you, NBA players' union. How can you let the NBA season slide away and take this budding donnybrook away from us? All the elements of a classic NBA rivalry are here in this one: high flyers against tough defenders; pedigreed champs versus up-and-comers; the glitz and glamor of South Beach versus the tough and gritty kids from Madison Street.

The Bulls were the surprise of the East last year and the Heat was everyone's favorite dartboard target, so it was natural that they should have some great games. I don't think anyone expected the three regular season classics that we were left with last year (three games decided by a total margin of eight points), not to mention the Heat's responding victory in the conference finals. The upstart Bulls were humbled by Miami in the Conference Finals, which still reminds me of the Detroit-Chicago tangles of the late-'80s. With Miami's loss to the Mavericks in the championship, both teams would have been hungry for redemption in the spring. Hopefully this lockout ends and we'll have a chance to see D-Rose and Co. lock horns with Wade, LBJ and that other dude.

Coming soon: The Five Worst Sports Rivalries.

Oh, yeah. Red Sox-Yankees is definitely making that list.

See you in the cheap seats.

JS

Living in Acronymity and the Statistical Revolution

Last Tuesday afternoon, young Derrick Rose won his first Most Valuable Player award.

That same afternoon, bloggers and sports nerds everywhere had a moment of silence for LeBron James, Dwight Howard, and Skip Bayless' sanity.

Now imagine you came across someone who had never watched an NBA game , and had to explain to them why Derrick Rose shouldn't be MVP. How would you do it?

Did he not have the statistics for his position (scoring and assists)? No, he was top-10 in both.

Did he not make big shots in crunch time? No, he did that...and did it again...and did it again.

Did he come through as a Sprewell-type, getting in trouble with the law and drawing the ire of his peers and outsiders? No, he was widely praised as a genuine individual, deflecting much of his accolades to his teammates and coaches, and of course, his mother.

So why was Rose not worthy of MVP?

Could you tell this nameless, basketball-deficient person that it's because of a statistic that wasn't known until a few years ago and has a formula better suited to a college course?

Revenge of the nerds

I am not a fan of the statistical revolution, I cannot lie. I thought it was useful when it became a staple for baseball. After all, baseball has always been a haven for stats and stats junkies, people who craved something deeper than batting average and home run totals. There had to be some better way to determine which players were better infield defenders, had more range in the outfield, and who would be a better pinch hitter when the game was on the line.

So I embraced it. I looked for things like Value Over Replacement Player (VORP) and On-Base Plus Slugging Percentage (OPS) to see how a player was really doing at a certain point in time.

Then I stopped playing fantasy(-land) baseball.

Now, as I've gotten back into basketball following the Bulls-Celtics series from three years ago, I've become wary of the many bloggers who tout rates and efficiency over scoring, assists, rebounds and intagibles. Yes, most of these guys were downplaying Derrick Rose's MVP credentials, but even before the avalanche of criticism, I was having trouble dealing with them.

In short, the nerds had truly taken their revenge.

Internet thugs attack!

None of the statistical revolution would have been possible without the Internet. In the past, it would have taken years for new ways of quantifying success to gain credibility, solely through newspapers and magazines. But with the Internet, the theories of Bill James and John Hollinger were verified, tested and hailed with relative ease and little time. And right behind them were hundreds of bloggers, armed with a love for the game, little athletic talent, a TI-83, and a membership in every fantasy baseball league.

The League of Extra-Ordinary Geeks. Or as Chamillionaire would say, internet thugs.

It's not that these are bad people. They levy good arguments plenty of times, and it's difficult to argue with statistics that correctly placed. But, as any hip-hop fan knows, there's hardly anything worse than a person bashing your favorite player or team from behind the safety of a computer screen.

That's exactly what happened with Derrick Rose's season. As soon as the calendar turned over to 2011 and Rose was mentioned as a possible MVP candidate, it seemed the LEoG was chomping at the bit to find a more deserving player than the Chicago Kid. Whether it was Dwight Howard, Kobe Bryant, or the Unmentionable Punk Player from Akron, Ohio, no one could stomach the thought of Derrick Rose as the Most Valuable Player.

But what was most perplexing was that while the LEoG was detracting was Rose's abilities, it seems the former NBA players-turned-color analysts were recognizing that Rose was well-worthy of the award. One after another, the ballplayers in the ESPN-tailored suits were confident in D-Rose's MVP credentials.

Doesn't it seem like the guys who played the game would be best suited to recognize who was the MVP?

Only time will tell

It's always been odd for me that the Most Valuable Player award doesn't take into account the postseason. After all, the season doesn't end with the regular season; it ends with one team holding the big trophy.

Tomorrow night, the Chicago Bulls and the Miami Heat will play for the right to go to the NBA finals. It's the matchup everyone has looked forward to since the playoffs started, and many sabermetricians believe the Heat, based on all the numbers available, will advance. But the games must be played, and those nerds-turned-internet thugs will be sitting in the bleachers like they always have.

Too bad for the rest of us that now, they'll have a laptop in front of them.

See you in the cheap seats.

JS

Wilting Roses: The ESPN Culture of "Blah, Blah, Blah"

"Everybody's talkin' at me, I don't hear what they're sayin'..."

Disregarding the fact that hardly anyone under age 40 knows where those words actually come from, they say a great deal to the world today. In the aptly-described "Information Age", facts, statistics and opinion alike are available as soon as we get out of bed in the morning. We can find out about an earthquake in Tunisia, a space shuttle launch in Russia, or an unusual birth in Luxembourg almost immediately, and if we don't care about it, we don't have to.

No field has benefited more from the Info Age than sports. After all, most sports fans today are junkies (nerds!) concerned with statistics and more news than can be provided in the box scores now, so there is up-to-the-minute reporting on everything. Pro stars, college stars, high school stars, grammar school stars even! There is analysis on everything, breakdown of everything, and critiques on everything. It is as in-depth as you can get, and when there's nothing concrete anymore, there are endless panels of experts to give their (often clashing) opinions.

And therein lies the problem. When there are thousands of shouting voices, who can say which is worth listening to?

More importantly, which one is shouting the truth?


The fates, intertwined

As the NBA season started, all focus was on the Miami Heat. The trio of LeBron, Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh had been predicted to do everything short of conquer the entire continent of Asia, and only the Los Angeles Lakers were thought to have an eventual chance against the mighty [insert Heat nickname here].

To clarify: the Heat had already been given a berth in the NBA Finals. Before the season had even started.

(Note: I will attempt to deliver the next few paragraphs without any sarcasm or animosity. However, LeBron James is still a punk and will be treated accordingly.)

As the season got underway, the Heat train experienced a few bumps and near-halts: an opening night loss to Boston, a buzzer-beating home loss to Memphis, defeat at the hands of the lowly Pacers. Chris Bosh was ridiculed from coast-to-coast and had a popular song parodied in his honor. Erik Spoelstra was already a lame-duck coach in the minds of many. And all the predictions of astronomical win totals? Disapparated faster than Severus Snape.

Meanwhile, the Chicago Bulls and their fans were greeting the season with guarded apprehension. One of the final favorites to land LeBron, Chicago had been similarly spurned on the night of the decision, though they did get low-post machine Carlos Boozer as a consolation prize. But as the preseason finished up, word came down that Boozer had "curiously" broken his finger in the preseason and would sit out the first month.

New coach Tom Thibodeau had a great resume and endorsements but was still a wild card. Meanwhile, Derrick Rose had publicly declared "why can't I be MVP of the league?" leading many pundits to believe he was crazy.

Chicago and Miami were over a thousand miles away from each other, but from Bulls fans' perspectives, they might as well have been neighbors competing for best Christmas decorations.


The numbers, chopped and screwed

After a full month of play, the Bulls were 9-8 and still awaiting the return of Boozer. Going into tonight's game (the 73rd of the season), they are 53-19. Translation: a 44-11 record since December 3, an .800 winning percentage.

Over the same period, the Heat (who were 12-8 on December 3), ran off a record of 39-14 for a percentage of .736. Not better than the Bulls but still incredibly good. (To compare, the Lakers were also 39-14 in that span; the league-leading Spurs were 41-13, a .759 clip.)

Naturally, the media looked to the numbers and wondered how Chicago was winning so much. There had to be a single, primary reason, right? So they saw Rose's statistical improvement and TV-friendly skill set, and started putting him at the forefront of the MVP race.

Correction: they firmly crowned him as the most valuable player. Every single one of them, from Jon Barry to Christopher Hitchens. Even Christiane Amanpour went on record: "the situation in Libya is growing dire, but Derrick Rose is hands down my MVP. The guy is a flat-out winner, unlike Gadhafi."

There was only one problem: the season wasn't finished yet.


The noise, muted

I'm a Chicago fan through and through. I even want the Cubs to succeed, if it means their well-meaning fans can be happy and the Chicago baseball rivalry can be a rivalry. I've watched Derrick Rose and the Bulls all season long and I've seen him and the Bulls get better every game. I sang the "Fast Don't Lie" jingle all through the winter, and I've mused many times over selling my life for playoff tickets.

Derrick Rose would be my MVP vote, as Cam'ron and the Diplomats would say, easy.

However, I understand the cases for other players. Dwight Howard is the engine for Orlando and he has improved his game this year as well (the Tim Duncan-like jumper.) Kobe Bryant is Kobe Bryant, the best in the clutches. LeBron James will always be a positional anomaly who can play almost anywhere on the court, and Kevin Durant can score almost at will now.

There is an argument for other players. But there shouldn't be a need to scream about it.

Skip Bayless has criticized just about everyone who's been born and played a professional sport in the United States, as well as Mother Theresa's charity work. We expect it from him. But now Dan LeBatard (whom I just don't respect) has weighed in on the supposed media-driven Rose-fest.

The quote that sums up all this Rose-hatred/MVP-misjudgment: "[Rose] is just not the best [player]. Which means he's not the most valuable."

Without going into detail, best does not equate in basketball with most valuable. If that were true, either Kobe Bryant or LeBron James would have won the award the last five years every single season, because they are without a doubt splitting time for best player  (with Timmy D running third.)

What does it mean? I don't know. There are so many variables to consider even without sabermetrics. Chemistry, trade value, "aaaah" factor (see: fans after a Blake Griffin dunk), player mindset. But most of all, I think the MVP should come from a team that not only wins, but wins when it counts: the playoffs.

So since the season's not over, I think it's time for everyone to shut up.

That would fix everything, wouldn't it? There wouldn't be any of the D-Rose stumping which has caused so much backlash. There also wouldn't be coaches, players and media personnel campaigning for another player based a modicum of facts and a majority of shouted opinions. We could watch the games, total the stats, weigh them with those few remaining intangibles, and when the season's over, make a reasoned argument. The opinions would stay relegated to 100-plus characters on Twitter and the 10-plus characters at the barbershop.

It would be so easy. And so much quieter.

The reality, resigned

Alas, the world does not work that way. Everyone has a subject to formulate an opinion on and a chance to voice that opinion. Indeed, this blog post is a shining example of just that.

The system won't change. Without people like Skip, there would be no targets for our ire and no arguments to rebut. And there's no going back from the Internet and the culture of immediacy. It's a "global village", as Marshall McLuhan correctly theorized, and one where you can't move away from your neighbors.

As the Miami Heat have as yet failed to live up to lofty expectations, Rose's emergence as an MVP candidate is the natural debate topic. That would be fine, if most or all of the opinions weren't opinions and were instead well-reasoned arguments. But with new stats and figures every second and endless frames of tape, that is becoming almost impossible. After all, none of the so-called arguments have done what arguments are supposed to do: bring everyone involved to a logical conclusion.

So I propose that since we have nothing valuable to say, we should say nothing at all. That would be the most valuable thing we could do.

See you in the cheap seats.

JS