Putting Glory On Ice

Lets put glory on ice for a minute, or is that possible these days? Did anyone know that the NHL had playoffs, and that they were going on? Apparently no one told the major networks because they have done no justice to professional hockey in their coverage of the game or its players. Crying out loud I tried to get an update on one of their websites and didn’t even see a mention of the NHL Playoffs.

Over the course of the last two weeks we could have seen the game’s second coming of Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux make their first playoff pushes towards hoisting a Stanley Cup Trophy. Sydney Crosby (Pittsburgh) and Alexander Ovechkin (Washington) have made one spectacular play after another, but who saw it?

It brings me back to one of those goofy questions that ponder whether or not a tree makes a noise if it falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it. Umm… well… is hockey back in a major way if no one gets to see it? Heck yeah it is, and you can thank the young stars of the game for doing it!

I don’t claim to be a fortune teller, but I have been known to make a few predictions, and have them come to be. Let me jump on that soapbox just long enough to scream this prediction to the masses; Sydney Crosby and the amazing mix of young players in Pittsburgh will win the Stanley Cup this year, and they will win the hearts and attention of the masses in the process.

The Pens have three players that are barely 20 years old. All of them are turning into undeniable superstars. Each one comes from a different background, language and set of circumstances to become the present and the future of the NHL.

Crosby has been a prodigy since he could walk. He grew up loving hockey in a country that hangs its hat on three national icons; hockey, those Mountie guys with the red coats and Canadian bacon. Well lets just say Sydney Crosby brings home the bacon Canada.

Evgeni Malkin grew up playing hockey in Russia. He went back there during the lockout and almost didn’t get back due to threats from the Russian mob. He fled with his mother to the states, battled the language barrier and became an all-star in the absence of Sydney Crosby (injury) for most of this season. Basically Geno came, he grew and he conquered on his way to scoring 106 points this season.

Marc-Andre Fleury has been the question mark all season. He was the number one overall pick a few years ago, stayed in the AHL for a while and then stuck in the pros last year before the wheels came off in the playoffs. This year he ended up with an injury that sidelined him for most of the season, and many questioned what he could do after he came back and played poorly late in the season. Since then, well, lets just say he has been nearly impenetrable in the net sweeping the Senators in the first round of the playoffs (including a 4-0 shutout). The kid is like Gumby between the pipes and undoubtedly could become the next great French-Canadian goaltender in the league ah la Patrick Roy.

These three guys combined with the fact that the Pens have the best mix of veteran leadership and youthful athleticism in the league. They are fun to watch, and even more so in the playoffs as their enthusiasm and energy is contagious to everyone watching.

The BottomLine here is that the young guys have brought the game back. It’s faster, stronger, and the scoring is better than ever. The coverage has got to come back too. They have earned it and frankly they deserve it. Hockey is no longer the forgotten, runt little brother out of the four major sports in America. In fact I would rather watch the rebounded NHL than Major League Baseball or the NBA any day of the week. The NHL seems to have a bigger, brighter future with its young stars and its faster style of play than their major counterparts, and no body has said anything about steroids, shooting people in strip clubs or beating their wives up. Go figure, hockey players are suppose to be the goons.

Turn em’ on and see for yourself.

A Self-less Act

Someone finally got it right. In the world of the College Coaching Carousel where coaches that have success are leaving school faster than the players, we finally see a guy do the right thing.

The Kansas Jayhawks won the national title in dramatic fashion Monday night, and before the press conference that night there were already rumors of Oklahoma State offering him a blank check and incentives to turn his alma-mater around.

Just an aside here, but is anyone else concerned about the coaching situation in Collegiate Sports? Is there a profession in the world where a man can sign a legal and binding contract to work for an organization for a certain length of time, and then bolt to a competing organization for more money before the termination of that contract? If there is such a job it is rare.

Today Bob Self chose to do it the right way. He went to the University and made his case. He showed them the facts and figures, and worked with them to come up with a solution that gave his current program the opportunity to retain his services.

It’s fair for him to ask for more money. For crying out loud he is no longer a national championship caliber coach, he is a national championship-winning coach. His measly 1.3 million dollar a year pay that won’t even reach 2 million dollars now that he met all of his incentives just won’t cut it in comparison with the bloated salaries of Roy Williams, Ben Howland and Memphis coach John Calipari.

In the end Bob Self signed a new contract with Kansas that undoubtedly came close to the offer at Oklahoma State. T. Boone Pickens the Oklahoma State’s wealthiest booster came in with a personal offer of paying the likes of 6 million dollars in a signing bonus, and around 6 years and 26 million dollars in salary.

The BottomLine sports fans Bob Self deserves a standing ovation for what he was able to do quietly in less than a week. He got his money, and he deserved it. He showed some loyalty to the school that gave him his break under Larry Brown, and gave him his “dream job” a short time ago. He sent a message to Jayhawks fans, his players and the nation by showing some integrity and showing them that he really wanted to stay put in Kansas. All this aside the one thing he did was think about his players, not only the current ones, but his recruits. He refused to be what everyone hates Rich Rodriquez for being. He refused to lie to them, he refused to bag out on what he started under contract and he refused to be the guy who sat in their living rooms and sold them on playing for him only to leave before they ever dribbled a basketball on his practice court.

Here’s to Bob Self; A man among men in collegiate coaching.

Growling Back at the Tiger

When you think of the word elite what comes to mind? Better yet if I threw out the phrase elite golfer, what springboards across your cranium? Surely names like Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer and Gary Player come to mind, and even more assuredly the name Tiger Woods bounces through your head like a pinball. “The Golden Bear”, “Arnie” and “The Black Knight” have all held similar character traits over the course of their historic careers. Steely determination that pushed them through the most impossible circumstances, work ethic that conquered their own fallacies (and magnified the flaws in their competitors), and nerves that seemingly never flinched even under the heaviest pressure and the cruelest conditions made them legends in our time. The trait that kept and keeps them eternally near and dear to our hearts however is their class.

What of Tiger Woods? I mean come on, he has it all. He has the poise, the work ethic and the direct and utter defiance in his attitude that it takes to stare down the gun-barrel of defeat in order to call its bluff. One trait that that seems to elude the world’s number one player and arguably the greatest of all time however, is class.

Sure Tiger dresses well. We seem to take for granted his Sunday red. Sure he’s worth millions. We seem to forget how many millions he gives away to charities and foundations every year. He refuses to be the flamboyant, outspoken person that he could be knowing he is the best man in the world at his profession. Or did we all forget that Tiger doesn’t speak out on politics, religion and social issues? It seems that this young, beautiful, outrageously wealthy man goes home at night to his
super-model wife and his adorable baby girl still lacking the one thing that made those who came before him immortal.

What the heck are you talking about here?!?! You just named every trait our society calls class for crying out loud! Yes I did my friends, but I never mentioned him treating people well. I never mentioned looking at the people who make his millions for him by buying his clothing line, his car endorsements and his really crappy razors (Does anybody else hate that dumb commercial with Roger Federer as much as I do?). Instead he looks right through them on tournament days before, during and after the round. He never acknowledges well wishes, adoration or anything of the like. Conversely the only people he tends to notice in the gallery are those who have a flash on their camera.

I wrestled over addressing this issue for quite a while because I respect Tiger and what he has done for this game. I am tackling this issue now because I have had my fill with his crying, fussing and cussing on national television. It started out as the occasional profanity after hitting a stray driver off the tee or the rare approach shot that left him in the sand, but now it is becoming common place. As it becomes more outrageous so does his choice of words. I really started to notice it at last year’s US Open at Oakmont. The week was peppered full of four letter words and phrases that rhymed with grass and itch. Many of us chalked it up to the stress of his wife’s impending labor and overlooked it, but now it simply cannot be overlooked anymore.

Just a couple of weeks ago Tiger flipped out on a photographer in such a way that it would even make John Daly turn around on his barstool and take notice. I believe the words were “I will break your f***ing neck!” That’s right it’s mid-afternoon on national television, golf fans of all ages are watching with anticipation of Tiger pulling off another incredible victory, and out of nowhere with no time for the networks to do a thing about it we hear the ambassador of the world’s classiest game dropping the F-bomb like he’s in the middle of World War III.

Given the chance to apologize on ESPN’s “First Take” morning show he balked at the idea of admitting his wrong doing as if he were above answering to anyone for his actions on the golf course. “In the heat of competition things like that can happen” Tiger explained. No Tiger. Things like this do not happen. They have never happened before, and they should never happen again. When did you ever hear Jack turn around and scream obscenities at someone in the gallery, let alone do it on national TV with kids who idolize him watching? You didn’t because he didn’t. When did Gary Player ever scream out this type of language during a Major Event when the course was getting the best of him? Oh wait a minute there was that time… wait, no, sorry that was a pizza dream… it never happened!

The bottom line here Tiger is quite simple. You are and continue to be the best golfer in the world. There are many people in the world that have and are learning to appreciate this sport for the gentleman’s game that it is. They are going to watch because they love the sport and they want to see the amazing things you can do. People love to see history in the making. They are watching you, and they are not watching to see you make history by bringing “R” rated language to Sunday afternoon sporting events.

Who else can chip it, spin it and putt it like you do? Jack couldn’t, neither could Palmer or Player, but one thing they could do was tell the difference between inside words and outside words. You could give any one of them lessons on how to play this game, but take a lesson from the ol’ boys now and then, especially on the subject of class. No one faults you for being angry at the situation. Just handle it like the royalty you call company up there on top of the golf world. It could be the next challenge for you in a sport that has got to be getting boring. Develop the unshakable focus to hit 200 yard iron shots into the hole with flash bulbs blazing in your eyes. Talk about taking your game to another level. If anyone could do it you could, and I would pay money to take a child to watch you make it happen in a “PG” rated way. In the end you are too bright of a star, too great of a guy and far too blessed to be anything but a class act on and off the golf course. Let’s call an end to this behavior before the crowds start growling back at the Tiger.