They’re taking this seriously; we’re not

February 28th, 2007 | Posted by PostmanE

Ah, the Swimsuit Issue. Models everywhere. Sun-soaked beaches. Models everywhere.

Hepatitis A.

Hepatitis A?

Hepatitis A?!?!

LOS ANGELES (AP) — Guests at Sports Illustrated’s swimsuit issue party on Feb. 14 and a dozen other events may have been exposed to Hepatitis A, which was diagnosed in an employee of Wolfgang Puck Catering, authorities said Tuesday.

The Los Angeles County Department of Public Health urged anyone who ate raw food at the Sports Illustrated event, held at the Pacific Design Center in West Hollywood, to receive an immune globulin shot by Wednesday.

Oh dear. That’s not good. Here’s SI’s little take on the whole deal.

We’re taking the situation very seriously and have been working directly with the Los Angeles County Public Health Department since we were notified earlier this evening; we know our caterer for the event is doing the same. We are alerting our guests and staff as quickly as possible to ensure they receive the relevant health warnings. The health of our guests and staff is our highest priority.

While we’ve been advised this is a low risk situation, we’re strongly urging our guests and staff to follow the department’s recommendation to consult a physician to receive an immune globulin (IG) immunization in the next 24 hours. Detailed information from the county including clinics available for IG treatment can be accessed at www.lapublichealth.org.

We will continue to work with L.A. County Public Health officials to ensure an effective and timely response to this situation.

Sometimes, you don’t even need to write a joke, don’t even need to be snarky. Sometimes, things just … come together.

Also, let’s all hope Marisa there is OK. This hepatitis thing is already frightening enough; the last thing we need is one of our national treasures bedridden.

Just when you thought steroids were totally, completely gone for good

February 12th, 2007 | Posted by PostmanE

Come on. We had all moved on here. I was ready to completely convince myself that no athletes ever cheated, ever, and then Congress has to go and get all political on us again. Don’t they have non-binding resolutions to avoid debating or something?

According to John Donovan at SI.com, the steroid investigation Bud Selig and Congress authorized last year is still ongoing and getting nowhere. Player interviews are up next, and if the Players’ Union fails to encourage cooperation, Congress might well be forced to step in:

From the very beginning, when commissioner Bud Selig appointed former senator George Mitchell to lead the inquiry, we knew that this could well finish in front of a bunch of angry, indignant Congressmen again. Now, with Mitchell bumping into too many people with their backs against the closet doors, refusing to reveal their skeletons, the ending seems all but pre-ordained. If the truth is to be known — how prevalent were steroids in baseball, how damaging, who knew about their use, how were they allowed to take hold and, maybe, take over the game? — D.C. might be the only place it’s to be found.

“I think that’s very likely,” former baseball commissioner Fay Vincent told me recently from his home in Florida. “The public, I suspect, will be very supportive of Mitchell. And the Congress will be delighted. They’ll all look very good.”

As far as I’m concerned, this remains an OK alternative. Not to be cynical, but it seems all too rare that senators face a situation with both the potential for positive change AND political advantage. Beyond the fact that it’s unfortunate that this sort of situation is happening in something like sports instead of, say, post-Katrina New Orleans, it’s a step in the right direction. Far too often the power for change and the political viability of that change are mutually exclusive. If some Congressmen want to really bust Bud Selig’s balls on the steroid issue and get some good press out of the deal, so be it.

Plus, like, steroids are bad. I think I saw that on MTV or something.

The numbers are, in fact, staggering

December 14th, 2006 | Posted by PostmanE

If you’ve been to SI.com in the past few hours, you’ve seen this bad boy, a complete and accessible look at NBA salaries - who makes what, what teams have the highest payrolls, and who is overpaid or underpaid.

You can peruse the whole thing at your leisure - and I strongly suggest you do - but I’d like to point out a couple quick observations first, just to prove Bill Simmons’ eternal point: NBA GMs are freaking awful.

– This isn’t exactly groundbreaking, but the New York Knicks are truly effed. While most mentions of the Knicks are usually built on generalities, it’s truly fascinating to actually look up and down their payroll to see the dirty specifics of who makes what. For example, in 2009, the Knicks will be paying a combined $42 million for the basketball talents of Renaldo Balkman, Jamal Crawford, Mardy Collins, Eddy Curry, and Quention Richardson. And let’s not even get started on what they’re paying for Stephon Marbury and Steve Francis to fight over the ball.

– I wasn’t surprised to see Kevin Garnett, taking down $21 million a year, as the highest paid player in the league. What I was surprised at - to say the least - is that the 76ers are paying around $20 million a year for the farewell tour of Chris Webber. He’s the second-highest paid player in the league, and he can barely jump!

– Here’s a list of notable (and by notable, I mean overpaid) players that make more than Steve Nash ($10.5 mil), your two-time NBA Most Valuable Player: Raef LaFrentz ($11.5 mil), Theo Ratliff ($11.6 mil), Wally Szczerbiak ($11.7 mil), Kenyon Martin ($12 mil), Eddie Jones ($15.6 mil!), and, oh yeah, Chris Webber.

(By the way, I hope you appreciate the holiday spirit of those million dollar bills above. I think someone was trying to concoct a social commentary about consumerism with those, but I merely found them entertaining and festive.)

Morning How’s: Amare’s back; A King James Dynasty; With Leather rocks us to the core

November 2nd, 2006 | Posted by PostmanE

How great is the NBA?

Game after game last night. And the Sportscenter highlights. Oh, the Sportscenter highlights. Dare I say that basketball highlights are the … highlight of Sportscenter.

But seriously, is there a better time for highlights than right now? Sure, baseball’s OK, but Baseball Tonight can more than do the trick, if you can survive Krukie and Steve Phillips. But basketball thrives in its highlights, taking the most engaging parts of an already entertaining game and boiling them down even further. It’s like degenerative density, where the core of a star is already dense, but keeps getting more and more so, until it reaches perfect density. How do I know that? I’ve been studying star formations - for a class, jeez - for the past 24 hours. So don’t step to me on astrological knowledge, ya heard?

How encouraging was Amare Stoudamire’s game last night?

He still wasn’t his old self - and the jury is out on whether he will ever be again - but he certainly inched closer last night, scoring 15 points in 24 minutes. He got open looks in the post, rebounded well, even threw down a few body-contorting dunks that served as a reminder of the sheer velocity he used to produce in the air.

For sheer velocity, press play.

How many titles will Lebron James win?

That’s right. The question isn’t if, but when and how many. SI.com’s Marty Burns poses it in a thoughtful piece this morning, which also asks basketball fans to re-evaluate the term “dynasty,” because the likelihood of a Bulls-esque unit emerging in the league seems to be growing less and less likely each year. As far as LeBron-Jordan comparisons, well, let’s just say LBJ has a pretty comparable start. Oh, and he’s, like, barely able to drink.

How funny is With Leather?

Constantly chuckle-inducing. Especially the latest post. No f*cking thank you, either.

SI is handing out columns like Pez

October 24th, 2006 | Posted by PostmanE

Seriously, if you have 10 fingers and a computer, you can write a column for SI.com.

How do I know this? John Ondrasik - yeah, the dude from Five for Fighting - pens what seems to be a once-monthly hockey column (two have been filed thus far).

Listen, I know I’m way too hard on SI sometimes. Overall, I think SI is far better than ESPN in just about every tangible way, especially thanks to their corp of writers, which - with the exception of Pat Forde and a few others - dwarfs the Dot Com’s considerably.

But first, it’s Jenn Sterger. Then SI on Campus unleashes the “Road Trip.” And now, that terrible, annoying, radio-infesting pop-gulching chord-wrangling douchefuck gets to publish his column next to one of his cliche, I’m-deep-because-I-am-slumping-silently-in-this-car publicity photos. Ugh.

For the record: If I cared about hockey, I would read his columns more intently - BUT, from the looks of it, though, the dude seems to actually know his stuff, which, if I cared about hockey, would probably matter to me.
Anyway, in honor of John On (as he will now be affectionately titled), here’s some lyrics this idiot actually got PAID to write:

I’m Dying, Dying to wake up without you, without you in my head again
I’m Dying, Dying to forget about you, that you ever lived
There’s a shade come over this heart that’s coping with laying down to rest
I’m Dying to live without you again

I’m Dying, Dying to find a distraction, get you away from me
I’m Dying, Dying to reach a conclusion, so that the world can see
It’s the same old story of love and glory that broke before it bent
I’m Dying to live without you again

The first time you left I said goodbye
Now there’s not a prayer that can survive

Dying, Dying to die just to come back so we can meet again
Dying, Dying to say what I always should have said
It’s a strange emotion this but there’s still hope in this
As long as there’s a breath…
I’m Dying and I can’t live without you again

It’s a strange emotion this but there’s still hope in this
As long as there’s a breath…

I’m Dying and I can’t live without you
I’m Dying and I can’t live without you again

Wow. Just…you…wow.

Like a Phoenix, rising from the ashes of high school journalism

October 19th, 2006 | Posted by PostmanE

You know, I love Sports Illustrated. That love is myopic and contradictory, but it is love nontheless. Let me count the ways: SI, as a print brand, has maintained a foothold of relevance despite the explosion of a fast-paced online sports community AND grown its online brand into a perfect complement of its print product. They’re solid in every way, except for when Dr. Z starts being all grumpy. Oh, and they gave Jenn Sterger a column. That remains a black mark.

Anyway, today, I found a new reason to love SI: the ever gag-inducing, collegiate stereotype-pushing SI On Campus just keeps getting better. Now, it seems, they’re letting just about anybody with a computer and a job at their collegiate paper be a campus correspondent. The result? A barely-literate introduction to the University of Iowa.

I’m not going to go through this bit by bit, because that would be mean, and it’s not the author’s fault at all, really. He just wrote this like he writes everything else, and SIOC went ahead and slapped it on their site. Though, it warrants mentioning - if this is the edited version, what in the hell could the original draft have looked like? Anyway, some of the keepers:

Located in the heart of Iowa City, the University of Iowa has been shaping young minds since 1847. The school, which was the first public university in the United State to admit men and women on an equal basis, has seen Nobel Prize winners, Pulitzer Prize winners and Supreme Court justices pass through its doors. These days, however, the main draw for the school’s 30,000 students is the football team. Led by quarterback Drew Tate and coach Kirk Ferentz, the 5-2 Hawkeyes are among the Big Ten powerhouses.

Yes, Brendan, you’re absolutely right. The reason 30,000 students go to Iowa is the football team. It’s not, you know, the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, or the excellent medical programs, or the solid liberal arts education, or the campus that so accurately resembles an overgrown corporate office park. It’s Kirk Ferentz and Drew Tate. That sounds completely reasonable.

Also, dude, calling your program a powerhouse a few days after you got beat by Indiana is probably ill-advised. Let’s do some word-association: Powerhouse. Michigan. Ohio State. USC. Auburn. LSU. Iowa. One of these things is not like the other.

Another neat tradition: In Heaven, There Is No Beer. When the band starts playing this tune, everyone in Iowa City is celebrating because it means the Hawkeyes were victorious. Every Iowan enjoys singing this one as often as possible. Here are the lyrics:

“In Heaven, there is no beer…
That’s why we drink it here…
And when we’re gone from here…
Our friends will be drinking all the beer.”

Brendan. I’m an Iowan too. Davenport, born and raised. I used to kinda be a Hawkeye fan, before life drew me further east and to a different Big Ten school altogether - one with actual traditions. Anyway, as an Iowan, I solemnly swear that I do NOT enjoy singing “In heaven there is no beer” “as often as possible.” There are lots of us, Brendan, and we’d hate that song if it wasn’t so insignifcant. I surmise the only reason that song exists is so neighboring states have another reason to rip on us.

Also, I have a lot of friends at Iowa, and they either don’t seem to care about that song, or seem to hate it. So let’s keep it out of your nationally-published traveler’s guide, OK?

Oh, and for the record - I’m a solemn believer that there is, in fact, beer in heaven.

One last one, for the road:

Best place to watch the game: Buffalo Wild Wings.

Ugh. Do you even live in Iowa City?

Eh, one more. Take it away, Brendan:

Best place for student activities: Hubbard Park. In recent weeks, Hubbard Park, adjacent to the Iowa Memorial Union on Madison Street, has been a hot spot. It was the site of “College GameDay” on September 30, when the Hawkeyes hosted Ohio State. It also held a concert featuring the bands Kansas and Guster, as part of Homecoming Week on campus. You’ll find students playing catch with footballs and Ultimate Frisbee, and it’s where many poster sales take place.

Guster? Ultimate Frisbee? POSTER SALES?!?! That is so college, SI On Campus! You know us college kids even better than we know ourselves!

My head just exploded.

Packaging Terrell and sending him on his way

September 28th, 2006 | Posted by PostmanE

Since I have no idea what to make of Terrell Owens - besides that jokes about him swallowing 30 percocet are best followed up with a “Brett Farve at breakfast” rip - let’s try to synthesize the Web’s opinion of the whole damn mess, and then never, ever mention it again. Or at least until we have nothing better to talk about.

First, three of our favorite blogs/writers anywhere. The Big Lead notes that there is no overriding reason for T.O. to have offed himself, and that he’s never been diagnosed as bi-polar. Deadspin focuses on Kim Etheredge, who’s quite possibly the worst publicist of all time because she’s a halfway-decent human being. Pat Forde relives the circus that is Owens, even sneaking in a little well-deserved media criticism 1/3 of the way down the page.

SI.com has removed the Owens spread as its top topic in favor of Reilly’s Riffs (oh boy), but is still smothering that bad boy with coverage. Don Banks examines Terrell’s strange day in the context of the Cowboys’ season, Dr. Z writes a somewhat fascinating take on T.O.’s psychiatric health, or lack thereof, and the ever-youthy Michael Silver peers out over his sweet silver shades just long enough to let us know that T.O. just needs some time and space to heal. Fair enough, I guess.

Our buddy Dan Shanoff sums up columnist conversation around the country quite tidily, MJD says anything’s on the table, Christine Brennan wonders how to suddenly “feel sorry for a clown” and laments the “ebb and flow of life in the NFL.”

The most interesting take I’ve seen on the whole thing probably comes from Bethlehem Shoals over at Free Darko, who’s considering giving up on the NFL entirely after our cultural mishandlings of this and the Superdome re-opening. Whether you agree with it or not, it’s a different sort of dissent, which is what the NFL needs most these days.

Oh, and us? Well, besides getting into a tiffy about suicide jokes yesterday, I think it’s safe to say that T.O. might have tried to kill himself. Also, he might not have. Also, he might be dead, and fooling everyone with a remarkably life-like hologram his Webmaster created. Also, it’s possible that Drew Rosenhaus snuck extra pills in his supplements to drum up public sympathy. It’s possible that he and his publicist were trying to get down on some ecstacy and things got confusing. It’s possible that T.O. is the coming of the Antichrist those Left Behind dudes tried to warn us about, and now he’s got us right in the palm of his hand.

Also, it’s possible he’s just a disturbed guy who got a crazy idea in his head for a little bit, who feels very embarrased and sad today. Maybe he’s got a new lease on life. Maybe not.

Either way, it’s over, which means this is it. T.O.’s off the radar; it’s the only way we can do the situation, and ourselves, any justice.