Hard court

Awhile since I blogged y'all up so here's a quick rambling to make it at least appear as though I'm still making a college try at this thing.

A few hits from around the internet.

• Phil Jackson's legacy is somewhat questioned in this column from ESPN's Mark Kreidler.
> Indeed Jackson's latest foray into coaching, back again with Kobe and the Lake Show, seems to be a curious choice and greater and smarter men than me haven't come up with an answer as to why he's doing it. The Lakers are destined to be a team begging for a playoff spot at the end of the season and that sort of "success" doesn't exactly play into the track record the Zen Master has laid out for himself. If it helps the Lakers get just 10 more wins this season, however, I'm down for whatever.

• A couple of things from the pages of the Brandon Sun.

First, this story about a proposed home for troubled youth to be located in downtown BranCentral. I'm whole-heartedly behind a plan from the Youth For Christ to reach out and attempt to assist kids who are seemingly on the wrong path. But at the risk of sounding elitist, not in my 'hood.

This is a city that's downtown core has practically become gangland with random beatings and extortions, an Indian Posse problem that continues to lurk and streets that most citizens in the area don't feel safe walking on. Now you're offering to bring another 30 troubled teens into the area. Certainly it can be argued that this idea is best served in another region of the city, one that is not already battling with overrunning violence and widespread fear from its constituents.

And then, this story which has always been something that has drawn my ire. Brandonites want the city to fog as the threat of West Nile becomes ... well it's no longer just a threat, people.

In Winnipeg, hippies in various regions have shut down fogging activities by protesting — invariably just looking like children as they do it — the use of malathion to rid the city of the insects. A small minority has essentially decided what is best for the rest of the city despite the fact that there has been very little documented evidence that malathion is deleterious to humans, at least in the amounts and methods it is used when spraying.

These people have now put the entire population in jeopardy of a critical disease in their quest to curb the use of a substance that has yet to even be proven dangerous.

• Jason Whitlock, is an African-American columnist from the Kansas City Star newspaper and a frequent contributor to ESPN.com's Page 2. His column is decidedly Afro-American and he usually finds ways to twist a hot topic into an issue of race even when most people wouldn't see it there. However, it's not always what you'd think.

In this piece, for instance he discusses the firing of Cincinnati men's basketball coach Bob Huggins.

Whitlock's arguments aren't entirely without merit. Truthfully, the idea that NCAA programs are using black athletes for their own gain, despite the consequences, isn't new. Still, to charge that the black community itself needs to stand up and recognize that places like Cinci are not where they should be going, is misguided.

This story is eerily similar to the firing of Jerry Hemmings from Brandon University in the spring of 2004. Hemmings was dismisssed as men's coach after 30 years of service because the university wanted to clean up its image. The image being that the men's program recruited players who were more interested in the ball and the groupies than they were in the studies they were also there for. And for all the sympathizers that Hemmings has in Brandon, the university was right. You can't ignore the fact that there was a track record of delinquency at BU during his time there, even though I fully believe Hemmings was well-intentioned when he brought them in. I agree with his stance that he tried to give players a chance, and I even wrote about it in a column around that time. Brandon University later issued a mantra of what would guide the types of players that get recruited to the school. Much like Zimpher did.

Huggins, however, is different. By all accounts, there is very little that is likable about Huggins. And I think his dismissal was a long time coming. I mean, the guy got caught on tape drunk off his ass and driving around the city. The university gave him a small reprimand and he was back coaching in 2004-05. That move is unjustifiable.

Now he's bought out, surely to find work again — likely at a smaller mid-major — if he should desire, and we're discussing the racism of the NCAA. I don't disagree with Whitlock that the issue here is racially-charged, but I disagree that "black athletes participating in Division I sports graduate at an alarmingly low rate because the people running the institutions don't view the athletes as capable of being truly educated, and the institutions are ill-equipped to educate the black underclass."

Perhaps because I've never been a black student at a Div1 school, but that is passing the buck on what is really going on. It is with a very wide brush that you paint over a student's failures in school or society simply by saying "well they're black and the school just doesn't know how to deal with them." At some point why shouldn't an individual be accountable for the fact they flunk out of school or hook up a felony record that rivals Robert Downey, Jr?

The argument that Whitlock provides could be applied to some schools, some times, in some situations. But to say that the history that Cincy had with troubled players is the institution's fault for not "getting" black players, is letting anyone that fails or does a crime while at school off the hook.

Fact of the matter is Huggins dismissal was what it was: Ridding a post-secondary institution of a man whose only interests at heart were his own and who was a cancer to higher education and athletics.

W

A few things came out of the Steelers' first pre-season game, a fun-to-watch 38-31 victory.

• Hines Ward ended his holdout. More on this later.

• The draft picks were a fairly bright spot. Second-rounder Fred Gibson had a couple catches and a jarring block on an Eagles' DB that was a contender for hit of the night. Heath Miller was quiet but will fit in just nicely as the new TE when Ben takes over for real. Undrafted free agent Nate Washington was the surprise of the night. Caught a few balls and was a pretty exciting weapon. Still, he's going to be well out of the picture with the Steelers' fairly deep receiving corps.

• A unique game to watch because the Steelers' first unit only got in for one series of downs. Hard to say what to expect of them.

• The Steelers were the first team in NFL history to return an interception, kickoff and punt for a touchdown in a single game. A fact I found surprising.

• Could it be said that the Steelers' hit for the cycle? The football equivalent of hitting a single, double, triple and home run in a single game, Pittsburgh had a rushing TD, a passing TD, a kickoff TD, a defensive TD and a punt return TD. This needs to be made into a stat. First team to ever hit for the cycle.

---

With regard to the Ward holdout. Obviously, given the circus of Terrell Owens that has surrounded the Eagles this off-season, the subject of his holdout was a hot topic on last night's cast. I'm not going to suggest that ESPN was wrong in handling it the way they did, but just my own standpoint is to say that anyone suggesting T.O. and Hines' holdouts are in any way similar is completely mental.

Hines, widely regarded as one of the good guys in the NFL, wanted to be paid fair market value and was well below players who aren't even in the same hemisphere as him in terms talent level or contract security. Ward pledged that he wanted to end his career as a Steeler and wanted a contract that would allow him to do that. While all the talk on Owen's website is of him being the martyr and "whipping boy" who "only asks what every other worker in America asks for, respect and dignity", it was Ward who called coach Bill Cowher in an attempt to have the team come to terms. That's the professional thing to do.

Meanwhile, Owens actions have been much publicized and it reminds me of a Skip Bayless piece from a couple years ago that essentially told the Eagles, and by virtue the Baltimore Ravens, whom he spurned in the 2004 off-season, don't be surprised when the love-in ends. When T.O. arrived in Philly in 2004, it was a time of excitement for a team that believed it had the final piece to its puzzle. Undeniably the Eagles benefitted from Owens presence and you can't argue with the numbers he put up.

Still, it's likely the same as dating a stripper: You may love how she looks on your arm but you probably should be aware that something communicable might come from the relationship.

So this is what you get with T.O. and yet we're still, what, surprised? He whined in San Francisco, railed immaturely against his quarterback Jeff Garcia after he left there, told the Ravens to shut it when he was traded there and then, completely unprecedented, lobbied somehow to get a trade to Philadelphia where he got a 7-year deal. Now that contract isn't enough and he's attacked his quarterback again, Donovan McNabb another guy that is widely respected for his professionalism.

So we're talking about one guy who is one of the hardest-working, under-appreciated players that has done the little things for seven years in the same city and another player who is the biggest narcissist in the league with no one's interest but his own.

To paraphrase McNabb, a guy I really like: When you're talking about Terrell Owens, keep Hines Ward's name outta your mouth.

---

And so, lyric of the day is in honour of Owens. From Guru's solo album Jazzmatazz, a collection of hip hop with jazz and soul greats:

Lyric of the Day:
[Guru]
they're sleeping, it's deep man
so peep in closely when I'm speaking
weaklings, it's obvious you can't like up to
your pety pointless words, yet and still you love to
run off your jibs, now there come a time for judgement
punishment, what if we take away your ornaments
and strip you down to the raw deal
then I'd reveal the evidence
cause you don't really represent

Chorus

[Chaka Kahn]
listen here
I'm getting tired of you shooting lip
you better tighten up
or you will really slip up
and say something that you mean to do
turn around and it'll be on you
to save yourself from your call and blunder
...
and like a fool you'll sit and wonder
what, who do you wanna know, wish
no water, no magic spell
can save you from your self made hell
you've made your bed and you know darn well
you got a lay it in the ???
and there's no magic potion
to save you from the wheels you've set in motion
the stone is cut, the die is cast
what were you thinking

Sideshow

So the Bombers win. Fun game to watch and Keith Stokes' third-quarter TD was one of the most fun plays I've watched in a long long time. Just the sheer "this shouldn't still be going on but it is" of the play mixed with the increasing "how is he going to keep going" and then the capped off with the "drag the whole damn team with you" feeling made it fantastic.

Charles Roberts running in from 21 yards out with 40 seconds left to play was straight out of Madden. This doesn't happen in real life, professional sports. A team is getting boot stomped across the field, the game is over, the winning team is running out the clock and then, because of the other team's ineptness, one of the plays goes for a major. I mean it, right out of Madden. Only I would have called that play and I would have been looking to add insult to injury.

A couple of other notes...

• Was I the only one that was just a bit creeped out by Terrell Owens' press conference in his front yard. Ironically I wasn't disturbed by the fact TO would do such a narcissistic thing, but more that every media outlet in Philly was there while he worked out and were counting his sit-ups while asking him about his situation with the Eagles. I'm wondering if any of the reporters asked him out after.

• One more note on TO. Have to love Brad Childress, the Eagles OC, for his response to Owens flipping out on Childress because he would greet him by saying "hey Terrell". Childress' quote was akin to "if saying something like 'how's it going' is a bad thing I'm on the wrong planet because I must have done that about 200,000 to 300,000 times since I've been here.'

• This guy had an unfortunate day.

• Just for the heck of it: Ron Ockimy.

• The CFL refs (yes, we know, we know) are awful. But on the weekly "Here's the Call They Blew This Week" section, the Ticats fumble around midfield that was blown dead a millisecond after the ball hit the turf. The justice came, though, the Cats missed a FG, Stokes returned it to midfield and the Bombers scored a TD. Next, Stokes' plunge in the fourth quarter towards the goaline. It was debatable if he actually got into the endzone, that's how close it was, but then the refs go and spot it at the two-yard line, just a random spot. Idiots.

• Two things happening this month that I will be planning my life around: Kanye West's new album is dropping at the end of the month and 40-Year-Old Virgin is due out as well.

Since you asked...

Picture it: St. Catharines, 1999. It was a more innocent time. I had a university degree, southern Ontario was treating me well and the Indian Posse hadn't yet taken itself off my Christmas card list.

Around that time was the ascension, near peaking, of a little number we liked to call Kings of the Hill, on CFBU 103.7 FM Radio Niagara. The campus and community station of THE Brock University was the breeding ground for the most influential, cutting edge hour of sports talk to ever came out of an asbestos-filled early-1900s house on the edge of BU's gravel parking lot. In short, it was magic.

The KOTH took on many forms and, much like Regis' search for Kelly, a handful of different hosts graced the booth to bring the Niagara Region its most infectious form of radio ever.

Flash forward to ... what are we in... 2005? ... Well I still keep in touch with one of the previous hosts, Julio Garasa, and he and I have decided to bring the KOTH, ostensibly, back to the masses with a series of email exchanges regarding any issue that springs to mind. The basic idea, and yes it's essentially stolen from the brain of Bill Simmons (like much of what I write), is just a sports talk show via email. He in Ottawa, me in ... ugh... Brandon. So we're going to reprint the emails here in a little segment we called, very pompously, Since You Asked ...

Without further adieu,

Since You Asked: Rafael Palmeiro and the Steroid Era


-----Original Message-----
From: David Larkins [dlarkins@steelersfan.org]
Sent: Thursday, August 4, 2005 4:48 PM
To: Garasa, Julio: OPS
Subject: RE: OK ...

i agree with all you've said here, but just have one thing to add: Sammy's corked bat, despite popular rantings, would not be an assistance to him against big league pitching. The cork itself makes the bat too weak to take a 90mph pitch out of the yard. In BP? Sure, because it's just light cracks. But MLB pitchers would saw that thing off, as we saw. Hence, I don't think there was a cork issue in the past. Most people feel it is a booster, when it's actually the exact opposite.


--- "Garasa, Julio: OPS" wrote:

From: "Garasa, Julio: OPS"
Date: Fri, 5 Aug 2005 15:56:37 -0400
To:
Subject: RE: OK ...

True, but no one ever accused professional athletes (especially lately in baseball) of being physics scholars. Just the idea that he (or anyone) would be looking for any type of "edge" (legality, notwithstanding) is enough to question statistics. To ask an obvious question then ... if players have used it in the past for that extra edge in an era when it seemed that only Nolan Ryan could get a pitch in the 90s consistently, and if pitchers are throwing harder today, what's gotten into them (figuratively and literally speaking)?

-----Original Message-----
From: David Larkins [dlarkins@steelersfan.org]
Sent: Friday, August 5, 2005 4:19 PM
To: Garasa, Julio: OPS
Subject: RE: OK ...


yes, undoubtedly there has to be explanations for the amped-up numbers of the past decade and perhaps that is one of the reasons why Raffy is such a contentious pick for the Hall. He did his best work for teams that weren't in contention after the Break, did it in an era where offensive numbers were at an all-time high and did it away from the glaring spotlight fixed on others like Sosa, Bonds and McGwire. Whether it be the watered-down-pitching-caused-by-expansion theory, a tighter-wound ball or angels in the outfield for that matter, it appears the numbers of the past 10-12 years are at the very least suspect. The problem is, as they've suggested for Bonds, putting an asterisk beside a record or a stat isn't as simple as typing Shift-8. Putting that star behind, say Bonds, means adjusting countless other statistics as well for years and
years gone by.

djl.

--- "Garasa, Julio: OPS" wrote:

From: "Garasa, Julio: OPS"
Date: Fri, 5 Aug 2005 16:58:39 -0400
To:
Subject: RE: OK ...

I'm not sure about that. I think it would be fairly easy to see, more or less, when statistics took some noticeable jumps ... and stayed there.

Knowing what we now know, and will surely know in the not too distant future, you could make asterisking a fairly easy endeavour. In theory. The one major caveat is the indignation by players who have been flagged (they'll deny whether they're guilty or not). And they would be right. No one should be accused without some substantial evidence (although I'm leaning towards having photographic evidence count. "Here's Barry in his strong youth ... and here's Barry in his golden years by the Bay").

So how about this: Do the statistical probabilities, the theoretical matrices, and whatever other mathematical formulae are needed to determine an appropriate start (and presumably, end) to 'The Questionable Years', and asterisk that whole era. Claim that you can't count on the morality of players to come clean but nor can you ignore the ethical standard that should be accorded to the game itself (or some such language). This is a stain on the game and it may have come to the point to stop looking for bogeymen; "rotten apples", if you will, who have tarnished the game's image for all. It may serve the game
better to admit to a failure in conduct by men who simply wanted to be better, stronger, faster than any of their predecessors and chose nefarious means of doing so. I've had enough of this "it wasn't outlawed by MLB. I'm not sure if cocaine was specifically outlawed by the game either but that didn't seem to matter to Steve Howe (among others). And I would suggest that MLB played an implicit role in furthering the use of steroids. How? Remember the logo for the home run derby 2-3 years back? The silhouettes of the ball players used were straight out of a comic book. Behemoths with over-rippled arms, torsos, etc. If there was a home run derby during Aaron's time or Maris' time, they wouldn't have used such a logo ... and those guys had some power.

Just a thought.


-----Original Message-----
From: David Larkins [dlarkins@steelersfan.org]
Sent: Friday, August 5, 2005 5:32 PM
To: Garasa, Julio: OPS
Subject: RE: OK ...

my reference to the difficulting of asterisking an entire decade (if that's the bracket we're putting on it) was more with regard to if you asterisk Barry's numbers, and Raffy's, and Sosa's and Alex Sanchez's for that matter, then it causes a ripple effect down the line. It's not simply a HR issue, it's a team's runs produced, it's a pitcher's ERA, it's a pitcher's IP, it's a team's OBP, it's a player's RISP%, it's a pitcher's K's, etc. etc. Run production would also have to be asterisked, as would runs allowed.

Yes, extrapolating on one small asterisk can go on forever — in that looking-into-two-mirrors-ad-infinitum sorta way — and the further down the line, the smaller the issue is. But one asterisk does invariably affect many other numbers it sits beside, making the asterisk not such a simple thing.

--- "Garasa, Julio: OPS" wrote:

"Garasa, Julio: OPS"
To:  
Subject:  RE: OK ...
Date:  Mon 08/08/05 08:36 AM

But that's my point. You asterisk the decade (for example), qualify/define exactly what you mean by it ("due to the apparent rampant use of performance enhancing drugs, ALL records and unbelievable short-term increases in productivity are subject to suspicion and a furrowed brow "(or words to that effect). My suggestion is not to change anything. Let the records and the rest of the stats stand. But make it clear that they were produced in a "questionable" era. Too simple? Occam's Razor,
my friend. Sometimes the simplest solution is the only one. Doesn't do much for those who weren't juicing up, but then again, we're not talking a couple of bad apples. These are entire rows of trees in the orchard we're dealing with.

JG

Extra innings

It's 10 minutes to four in the p.m. and Hendo and I are utterly immersed in a discussion about Roger Clemens and what he would be capable of doing should he pitch in the Manitoba Senior Baseball League.

For those unfamiliar, the MSBL is Manitoba's only senior AAA baseball loop and its six teams are comprised of mostly 9-to-5'ers, college guys who come up to get a summer workout and keep playing ball, and a few Winnipeg Goldeyes castoffs thrown in. The champion of this league competes in the senior AAA national championships the following year.

The MSBL's top pitcher is Matt Mutcheson whose fastball is generally topping out around 88 mph.

So here's the questions posed, and these were with all seriousness:

• If Roger Clemens was pitching in the MSBL, do you think he could go through the entire season (each team plays 20 games) with a 0.00 ERA.
Debate: The key here is earned runs. With Roger regularly throwing in mid- to high-90s, it's conceivable that MSBL hitters wouldn't be able to get much wood on the Rocket's pitches. Add to that the fact he throws an 89-mph splitter, said to be the best in the MLB, and you gotta think that he would be virtually unhittable. The only hope to get runs off Roger would be that he loses his temper and beans a few guys and then someone is able to get a bloop single.
• If Roger Clemens was playing in the MSBL, what would he hit?
Debate:Well, he's a .191 career hitter in 100-plus at-bats and that's given the fact he played practically his entire career in the DH'ing American League. For a pitcher, that's a pretty good average. Top hitters in the MSBL are in the mid-.400 range, and you'd be foolish to think Clemens wouldn't be at least in that echelon.
• If Roger Clemens was pitching in the MSBL, how many no hitters would he toss?
Debate:The no-no never comes easy, no matter who you're dealing with. Still, you'd have to think that Clemens would be at least flirting with one each time out. If he starts, say, 10 games in the regular season, it would be safe to say he could muster at least two.
• If Roger Clemens was playing in the MSBL, would the league's most inept team — the Oak River Dodgers (3-16-1) — be an automatic lock for the championship?
Debate: The Dodgers gave up a league-high 140 runs this season and were routinely blown out, including a 24-2 gem in the final game of the season in which they gave up five jacks in the hitter-friendly AT&T Rogers Wireless Great Canadian Ball Park of Oak River. Still, the MSBL schedule is spaced out enough that a team will have one, two or three days rest between games. A guy like Clemens could pitch off three-days rest and could possibly make upwards of 15 appearances in one regular season, should he and the Dodgers desire. Still, at some point a team has to cash in runs and there would be times that other pitchers would have to throw. With Roger out, the Dodgers lose. With him in, they certainly could get a first-round bye in the playoffs (first or second place) and then just hope they can throw him as much as possible in the best-of-five semifinal and best-of-seven championship. All they need him to do is appear three times and four times in each.

Thank you for joining in on the discussion.

Mailing it in...

Just don't have it in me right now to go into anything extensive, so instead enjoy the broadcast of the Larky Awards, live and in high def.

Thank you to all who entered and to the accounting firm of Deloitte and Touche for tabulating all the results from the home office in Kenosha, Wisc.

We take a break from our regularly scheduled programming

I never understood people being racist, to be honest.

I didn't really know why one colour of people — simply by pigment and not by something more tangible, or justifiable — would raise furor or prejudices in people of a different complexion.

Blacks: Gangbangers. Whites: Oppressors. Asians: Bad drivers but good at math and not much else. Jews: Cheap. Latinos: Aliens. Natives: Welfare frauds and sniffers.

I'm sure there's others in this word association, but the point is made. Everyone, down deep, has their ugly prejudices that only some allow to show.

I dated an African-American girl once. Her father, with some Irish lineage, had no problem with me. Her mother, and some of that side of the family, never really cozied up to the fact she was dating a white Canadian. I didn't get it. Surely I didn't live through the riots of the 60s in a black man's body, but nor did I live through those same riots in the body of a white man. Nor did I give aid to lynchers, church bombers or backwoods rednecks who didn't want to sip from the same fountain as their black bretheren. Never mind that my knowledge of black history is arguably considerably more advanced than most people — white or black — that you could ask, the fact was I wouldn't be good enough because my skin wasn't the right shade.

So I never got it. But I'm starting to.

I will say to the death there isn't a racist bone in my body, but maybe I'd be lying. In fact, if anyone wants to sleep at night with that thought in their head, they might be lying to themselves too.

Fact is, since living in the City of Brandon for two-plus years, I have been accosted numerous times, a victim of attempted assaults and a victim of a minor assault after living, essentially, nearly three decades in a city that everyone around here refers to with the 'gangland' title.

I'd be a fool to not have noticed that of the countless petty verbal fights I've been in, the many insignificant pushings and shovings and finally, Tuesday night, the not-so-insignificant shotgun that was placed in the back of my head, a large majority of the actions were carried out by the same race of people.

Last night, at a bar, I had a double-barrelled sawed-off jabbed in the back of my head while the small club was robbed blind by a couple of bumbling morons who made off with essentially petty cash but left an elderly man bruised and shaken and the rest of the patrons stunned.

The only terrifying thing about the whole incident was standing in a place where I could see them walk in and approach me the entire time. I saw the masks cloaking their faces, I saw them enter the premisis backwards and I saw them turn to me as they grabbed for their pockets. I was ready for a knife. A knife I felt I could deal with and was ready to. A shotgun was different.

Thus, I'm left sitting and watching it all take place. I took off my grandfather's ring — my most cherished possession — and tucked it in my pocket. And afterwards I'm cursing myself for not doing something anything to a little puke who, only because he had access to a firearm, left a group of grown adults hostage for a few miserable minutes. Any other circumstance, any other time, and this five-foot-nothing wouldn't have been able to punch his way out of a wet paper bag ... with scissors in his hand.

Instead, we're all left in paralysis as victims for those moments and, for the ones following, I'm left raging against anyone I even think might be those guys. And I'm struggling to convince myself that not every one of that colour in this city would do the same thing. Deep down I know it. But deeper down I guess I don't, because it hasn't kept me from looking over my shoulder a little bit more.

And I hate it.

So I don't know whether I loathe Brandon more, or the people that inhabit it. Whether I'm sick of the hillbilly ways of a still-country town trying to be city, or the line of demarcation between the folks that use the word nigger or indian like it's a conjunction, or the lowlifes that walk around like it's their world and we're just happy to live in it.

But lately I've started to know why people feel those racist leanings. Don't think I don't still detest it. I'm just fighting it every minute to not start thinking the same way and change what I've always believed.

For having all those feelings, I still don't know who I hate the most: The people, this god-forsaken city or myself.

---

In light of the mood of the latest post, let's just let one of Brooklyn's finest, Mos Def, leave us with lyric of the day. A brilliant inspection of ghetto life that transcends more than just Flatbush and Bed-Stuy.

Lyric of the Day:
Yo, check it one for Charlie Hustle, two for Steady Rock
Three for the fourth comin live, future shock
It's five dimensions, six senses
Seven firmaments of heaven to hell, 8 Million Stories to tell
Nine planets faithfully keep in orbit
with the probable tenth, the universe expands length
The body of my text posess extra strength
Power-liftin powerless up, out of this, towerin inferno
My ink so hot it burn through the journal
I'm blacker than midnight on Broadway and Myrtle
Hip-Hop past all your tall social hurdles
like the nationwide projects, prison-industry complex
Broken glass wall better keep your alarm set
Streets too loud to ever hear freedom ring
Say evacuate your sleep, it's dangerous to dream
but you chain cats get they CHA-POW, who dead now
Killin fields need blood to graze the cash cow
It's a number game, but shit don't add up somehow
Like I got, 16 to 32 bars to rock it
but only 15 per cent of profits, ever see my pockets like
Sixty-nine billion in the last 20 years
spent on national defense but folks still live in fear like
nearly half of America's largest cities is one-quarter black
That's why they gave Ricky Ross all the crack
Sixteen ounces to a pound, 20 more to a key
A five minute sentence hearing and you no longer free
Forty per cent of Americans own a cell phone
so they can hear, everything that you say when you ain't home
I guess, Michael Jackson was right, "You Are Not Alone"
Rock your hardhat black cause you in the Terrordome
full of hard niggaz, large niggaz, dice tumblers
Young teens and prison greens facin life numbers
Crack mothers, crack babies and AIDS patients
Young bloods can't spell but they could rock you in PlayStation
This new math is whippin mother******s ass
You wanna know how to rhyme you better learn how to add
It's mathematics.
Mos Def, Mathematics from his first solo album of the same name.

Now back in at quarterback...

Well, Kevin Glenn will be inserted back into the Winnipeg Blue Bombers' lineup when they host the Montreal Alouettes on Friday night which should cause the ill-informed, misguided Bomber faithful to rejoice.

Honestly, anyone that knows me knows how much I support and love Winnipeg but the city must have the largest population of morons for fans than any other professional football city in North America.

This isn't about Tee Martin. Quite simply, the offense was stagnant with him at the helm, but to suggest that Tee blew it would be missing a number of significant points.

Instead this is more about Jim Bender. Well, actually, he's just the catalyst. The Winnipeg Sun columnist, in a story in Thursday's edition about the Blue's decision to put Glenn back in at QB after shaking off the effects of a high ankle sprain, led off by saying Bomber fans can now rejoice.

Really? Rejoice? That's the emotion I'm supposed to have right now? Sorry not in Mudville.

The old adage in football goes that you don't lose your job to injury and certainly that applies here for Glenn, the No.1 since well before training camp began. But a funny thing happened before I started "rejoicing", Jim, I realized that the guy we had coming back in was Kevin Glenn. I realized it's a guy who's decision making is suspect, arm strength is barely satisfactory, mobility is hit and miss and whose ability to lead a productive offence has yet to be determined.

But y'know what? There undoubtedly will be Bomber fans that will breath a sigh of relief that Top Gun is back at the helm until they come to terms with the fact that the guy they lust for has about as much chance of leading a team to the Grey Cup as Adam Sandler.

After all, this is what Winnipeg fans do. They chew up whatever quarterback is in charge, spit them out, and then wish they had them back again. If I were in a romantic relationship with the Winnipeg Football Fandom, I would have called for a restraining order 10 years ago.

The same group that hated on Khari Jones during — and after — his remarkable 2001 season in which he threw for 46 touchdowns (46!!!) was just the other day, by way of a CKY-TV poll, wishing he was back. Say what?

Trust me, I was in the stadium watching Khari on a number of occasions and heard the boos. Boos that were followed shortly after by me shouting back to the rest of our section to shut the hell up.

To be honest, the Bombers would be better off with Khari right now. A veteran guy who the rest of the offence would rally around and could at least give some hope of putting points on the board.

But we still wouldn't be winning much. There's bigger canyons to fill and a much pinker elephant in the room to acknowledge than just the quarterback. Receivers dropped balls (Kamau Peterson should have won the game against Calgary two weeks ago), DB's missed assignments (Wes Lysack got burned on a double move that set up the game-winning field goal against Edmonton last week) and seven offensive co-ordinators in the past eight seasons.

The offence is putrid not only because of the guy calling the signals under the centre's butt. But that's the spotlight guy and the one that most Winnipeg fans choose on which to heap their praise and piss.

The lineage of quarterbacks in this city has certainly veered off a track of success one time or another, but they all have one thing in common: At some point in their careers here they heard it from the Winnipeg Stadium fans who always know better than the bosses on the sideline and who always think the guy on the field isn't as good as the T.J. Rubley or Troy Kopp backing him up. (Note to supporters: Kopp earned your adolation for a one-hit wonder performance backing up Kerwin Bell but is most famous and memorable for holding out on the team the following season and then getting in a car accident.)

But here's where I am different (and thus of course qualified to give you all your opinions): I'm going to bat with whoever we put in there and I'm not turning my back on a team of which you're supposed to be a supporter. I'm not excited about our situation but if you're a fan, you pull through it and tough it out. It's not always winning seasons and big ol' rings.

But not Winnipeg. Nope, no matter how incompetent our head coach is, no matter how porous our pass coverage is or how confounding our play calling might be, through thick and thin; rain, snow, sleet or hail, we're going to boo our quarterback. (Even if he did pass for 713 yards the game before or for 46 TDs last season). We're going to boo him and gloss over all the other glaring problems that desperately need to be dealt with.

So buckle in and watch Kevin Glenn lead the Bombers and be ready when the boos come because, no matter what he does, eventually they will come. After all, you'll be watching alongside the most foolish, ill-informed and borderline incoherent fan group in the nation.

Rejoice.

And now a word...

Hey did ya ever notice how commercials stink?

And, hey, did ya ever notice how puppies are cute and winning the lottery has the uncanny way of picking up your day?

Me too, kiddo!

But honestly, how rare is it nowadays to actually find a good commercial? Never mind a great commercial. Pretty fricken' rare, my friends. We're in the same broadcast universe where whoever has been green-lighting those McCain ads has managed to keep a secure job for the past two decades.

With that in mind, here's the worst commercials currently running on TV. As always, feedback is welcomed.

• Tim Horton's "The Guy Who Really Likes The Cookies".
››››› The Highlights: Scene at some generic office building where the boss is brainstorming with a group of geniuses whose best contributions are "we have to get there before our competitors do" and "what if they do beat us there?". The cookie guy responds "touche" and reaches for a cookie. Hilarity ensues.

• Speed Stick "Foreign Dub Special"
››››› This is so bad, I'm not entirely sure it's for Speed Stick, but I'm guessing that it is.

The Highlights: Some frisky little eastern block girlfriend arrives home with her apparently common-law boyfriend in the shower. She's shocked that his shirt doesn't reak after his jog, making their living in sin arrangement a little more tolerable evidently. The commercial's god-awful quality is enough right there but the coup de gras is the fact the entire thing is dubbed. Canada couldn't find a few actors to get into character for this intensely strenuous bit of role-playing — true thespians were needed — so we had to import this little piece of genius from, oh let's just say,... Bulgaria. Hilarity ensues.

• A & W "You Fixed The Car Now Do Something About The Wife"
›››››› The fast food chain has really made a solid run at being a contender for worst series of commercials.

The Highlights: In this particular A & Dub offering, a man has put the finishing touches on his pride and joy: A restoration job on a cherry red '66 Mustang. The loving wife returns home and not even trying to hold back her disdainful sarcasm says "what'd that take you, three years?" The loving husband, and father we presume, shakes off the unnecessary jab and offers to take his tart of a wife for a driving date, turns on a nostalgic 50s tune and goes to the A & W. He flashes the lights towards the restaurant — just like back in the day — as he's arranged to be served at the car. Through all of this, the wife can barely even purse her lips to get her decrepit old mouth to form the fragments of a smile. You ungrateful tart. Is this a marketing strategy? Having the most detestable character in the history of TV ads to pitch the good ol' days and nostalgia of bygone years?

• Canadian Tire "You Mean You Don't Have This Tool Yet?"
›››››› The Highlights: This husband-wife combo has been pitching various inventions available at your local Canadian Tire store for a couple years now and they never seem to get less pretentious about it. Their neighbours are falling over themselves to try the newest pressure washer or leaf mulcher that the couple is all-too-willing to lord over them. The husband, who might be Steven Keaton of Family Ties fame, is utterly giddy any time he can show off his new air mattress or his brand new grill brush-slash-bike pump-slash-cell phone car adapter that he just picked up the other day. The wife is equally pleased being able to have 'girl talk' with the other wives about how much usage Steven gets out of the dog kennell-slash-bike rack-slash-turkey fryer they stumbled across during their bi-weekly trip on Tuesday.

What they don't mention is the price tag on all this usefullness: $859,476.32. And the Canadian Tire money in return for your purchases? $1.48

But the winner that takes it all, is ...

• Saturn "We're About The People"
›››››› Whether it's going back to the earliest ads that showed the car company's policy of putting customer's pictures on the walls, or to the most recent line in which the company literally brings its customers to tears of joy, Saturn has always had a knack for phonily tugging at heartstrings with completely contrived story lines and pathetic attempts at sincerity.

The Highlights: The three that stand out most are the girl who's overseas and has her car ordered up and ready to go only a Saturn dealer greets her at the airport with her keys and car ready for her; the 30-day money back guarantee ad in which a girl loses her job, returns to the dealership sobbing because she can't afford her car leading to this exchange:

HIM: Don't worry because ...
HER: The money back guarantee? (sobbing)
HIM: (Wistfully, head cocked) Yes.
HER: When I get another job, don't worry, because I'm buying a Saturn.

Then, a la The Littlest Hobo, she walks off into the sunset with nary a look back at the earthly saint that she has just crossed paths with.

And finally, the monologue ad from a woman who's picking up her boyfriend at the airport and talking about how great he is and how he's everything she wants in a man. And "not to compare a man to a car, but... *dramatic pause*... that's why I bought a Saturn."

Good christ.

Scotia Bank has thankfully taken its run of ads off the air now in which the family is moving to a new house but the wife can't bear to leave because she can't get her eyes off the wall where the children's heights were measured.

"It's just... that... this is where the kids grew up." And CUE DIDO!

I'm not a fan of fake emotion, especially in the guise of selling RRSPs.

In the words of Dennis Miller, of course that's just my opinion. I could be wrong.

Lyric of the day:
(Hello and welcome to MeatShake)
Hi
Hi, how are you there?
(I am doing meaty good)
Yeah..
(Well, may I take your order) Yeah, my wife would like a shake
(Okay, what flavor do you want? We have chicken, pork or steak)
Huh? (We also have our special of the month Turkey Jerky
So which one will it be?) Mh - I think that you misheard me
(Hello?) Maybe I spoke too soft or you just didn't listen
(You said you want a shake) Yeah, but then you mentioned chicken?
(Uh-huh, or steak or pork or Turkey Jerky) Right, I'm confused
(Oh, I see you're not familiar with ingredients we use
First we take a measure of the sweetest dairy creams
Combine it with your meat of choice, along with cheese and beans
We mix it in a juicy batter, then we heat it up
And add the secret syrup, then serve it in a cup)
Yuck! That sounds disgusting (I see you're not excited)
But wait until you tried it, you'll want it in your diet)
Ah-ah (It's a warm and tasty way to eat your daily beef
And it's very, very smooth, you don't have to use your teeth
It's kinda like the brooth a pregnant women gives her fetus
It builds you up and makes you strong) People really eat this?
(We've served a half a million and they've all been satisfied
We're expanding new locations and they're growing nationwide)
But back to the shake (Okay) All you have are meats?
(Ah-ha) What about chocolate, strawberry or peach?
(Well, we do have vanilla) Now that sounds delicious
(But it's Vanilla Ham, we only make it during Christmas
Maybe you'd be happier to go across the street
You could eat at Veggie Hut where they don't use any meat
They play world music so it's perfect for a hippie
You can talk about communism, meat-hating sissy)
What?
(Beat it granolas)
We're not granolas
(Don't you have a protest to get to or something?)
That's so lame, this place sucks
So rude, honey, he just called me a sissy to my face
I'm not a sissy
(Shouldn't you be reading _Dianetics_?)
We're outta here
Ugly Duckling, The Drive Thru

Crazy town

The chosen one from the land of the frozen sun
When drunk nights get remembered more than sober ones

That lyric has stayed in my head for the longest time. I love it. So I've made it — part of the hottest two minutes of music of 2005 — part of the lyric of the day below.

---

Pittsburgh has been a pretty odd place as of late.

A couple of items have surfaced out of the Steel City in the last week or so that followed up the somewhat bizarre and entirely eyebrow-raising story of the deceased Steelers' fan that was placed on a stage decked in Steeler gear for visitation.

But hey, the Smoky City wasn't done there. Witness this little ditty which probably falls under the most unconscionable action of the week. Now, it would be very easy for me to make jokes here. But I won't.

(Instead, if you're hanging out with me at some point I'll just tell you them then.)

Then there was this impersonator who clearly hadn't thought out his plan too well. On one hand you're trying to impersonate Ben Roethlisberger who has become one of the most recognizable celebrities in the city and then you're trying to impersonate Brian St. Pierre, the Steelers' fourth stringer at QB and a man who even the most diehard fans couldn't pick out of a lineup — or care to for that matter — if he was wearing his jersey and throwing spirals too them.

I especially love his suggestion to one woman that she watch a game sometime.

HIM: Hey you should check out our game against Cleveland on Sunday, it's on TV, y'know?
HER: Oh really? Well I'd love to come. Think you can get me tickets?
HIM: Um, no. No I can't.
HER: You play on the team but can't get tickets?
HIM: They don't let us do that anymore. Yeah, Oliver Ross was really abusing that privilege, inviting cousins and neighbours and all that. Yeah, that's why we let him go.

A real Casanova, that one.

Still, as bone-headed as those two are, they are not nearly Darwin Award material, the annual benchmark for idiocy on the planet Earth. Let's have a look shall we?


1. When his 38-caliber revolver failed to fire at his intended victim during a holdup in Long Beach, California, would-be robber James Elliot did something that can only inspire wonder. He peered down the barrel and tried the trigger again. This time it worked....

And now, the honorable mentions:

1. The chef at a hotel in Switzerland lost a finger in a meat cutting machine and, after a little hopping around, submitted a claim to his insurance company. The company expecting negligence, sent out one of its men to have a look for himself. He tried the machine and lost a finger.  The chef's claim was approved.

2. A man who shoveled snow for an hour to clear a space for his car during a blizzard in Chicago returned with his Vehicle to find a woman had taken the space. Understandably, he shot her.

3. After stopping for drinks at an illegal bar, a Zimbabwean bus driver found that the 20 mental patients he was supposed to be transporting from Harare to Bulawayo had escaped. Not wanting to admit his incompetence, the driver went to a nearby bus stop and offered everyone waiting there a free ride. He then delivered the passengers to the mental hospital, telling the staff that the patients were very excitable and prone to bizarre fantasies.

The deception wasn't discovered for 3 days.

4. An American teenager was in the hospital recovering from serious head wounds received from an oncoming train. When asked how he received the injuries, the lad told police that he was simply trying to see how close he could get his head to a moving train before he was hit.

5. A man walked into a Louisiana Circle-K, put a $20 bill on the counter, and asked for change. When the clerk opened the cash drawer, the man pulled a gun and asked for all the cash in the register, which the clerk promptly provided. The man took the cash from the clerk and fled, leaving the $20 bill on the counter. The total amount of cash he got from the drawer...$15.

(If someone points a gun at you and gives you money, is a crime committed?)

6. Seems an Arkansas guy wanted some beer pretty badly. He decided that he'd just throw a cinder block through a liquor store window, grab some booze, and run. So he lifted the cinder block and heaved it over his head at the window. The cinder block bounced back and hit the would-be thief on the head, knocking him unconscious. The liquor store window was made of Plexiglas. The whole event was caught on videotape.

7. As a female shopper exited a New York convenience store, a man grabbed her purse and ran. The clerk called 911 immediately, and the woman was able to give them a detailed description of the snatcher.  Within minutes, the police apprehended the snatcher. They put him in the car and drove back to the store. The thief was then taken out of the car and told to stand there for a positive ID. To which he replied, "Yes, officer, that's her. That's the lady I stole the purse from."

8. The Ann Arbor News crime column reported that a man walked intoa Burger King in Ypsilanti, Michigan, at 5 a.m., flashed a gun, and demanded cash.

The clerk turned him down because he said he couldn't open the cash register without a food order. When the man ordered onion rings, the clerk said they weren't available for breakfast. The man, frustrated, walked away.

A 5-STAR STUPIDITY AWARD WINNER! When a man attempted to siphon gasoline from a motor home parked on a Seattle street, he got much more than he bargained for. Police arrived at the scene to find a very sick man curled up next to a motor home near spilled sewage. A police spokesman said that the man admitted to trying to steal gasoline and plugged his siphon hose into the motor home's sewage tank by mistake. The owner of the vehicle declined to press charges, saying that it was the best laugh he'd ever had.

Lyric of the Day
I want to be as free as the spirits of those who left
I'm talking Malcom, Coltrane, my man Yusef
Through death through conception
New breath and resurrection
For moms, new steps in her direction
In the right way
Told inside is where the fight lay
And everything a nigga do may not be what he might say
Chicago nights stay, stay on the mind
But I write many lives and lay on these lines
Wave the signs of the times
Many say the grind's on the mind
Shorties blunted-eyed and everyone wanna rhyme
Bush pushing lies, killers immortalized
We got arms but won't reach for the skies
Waiting for the Lord to rise
I look into my daughter's eyes
And realize that I'ma learn through her
The Messiah, might even return through her
If I'ma do it, I gotta change the world through her
Furs and a Benz, hypes wantin 'em
Demons and old friends, pops they hauntin' him
The chosen one from the land of the frozen sun
When drunk nights get remembered more than sober ones
Walk like warriors, we were never told to run
Explored the world to return to where my soul begun
Never looking back or too far in front of me
The present is a gift
and I just wanna BE
Common, Be from the album Be

Oy, blymie!

Spent some time after work going through some ringtones for the cell because I've grown entirely sick of the lame ones that the people of Sony Ericsson provided on the phone. I stumbled across the fight song for the University of Nebraska, "Dear Old Nebraska U".

The fight song is a beautiful thing. Whether it's college football or European football. All this lead me to search a bit on the Liverpool FC's famous anthem "You'll Never Walk Alone" (crowd version link located below lyrics) popularized by Liverpudlians Gerry and The Pacemakers and now a fixture not only in Liverpool but around many soccer grounds around Europe. Ironic really, that a song that's lyrics can invoke such emotion and has a saccharine tinge to it is sung with such endearing earnestness by a group of people notoriously known as some of society's biggest maniacs and hooligans. Maybe that adds to it, but chalk it up as one of the things I would love to do before I die: Sit in Anfield and sing You'll Never Walk Alone.

Not that I'm thinking of my own mortality, but that song would also be well played at my funeral.

Quickly changing subjects ...

The MLB all-star game goes Tuesday in Detroit and the home run derby later tonight will have a different format than past years. The contestants will be selected by country meaning that Canada has a horse in the race by the name of Jason Bay, last year's National League rookie of the year. The new format, however, ensures that because only one player can represent, say, the U.S., there are some quality guys that won't be swinging for the fences (Derrek Lee for instance). With that said, Mark Teixeira of the Texas Rangers, the current AL leader for round trips, isn't a bad horse to pin some hopes on. Bay, too, has some pop and with this year's competition lacking star power, no reason why the Trail, B.C. boy couldn't have a shot at it.

And before anyone objects to the suggestion that this year's comp will lack some shine, the likes of Bobby Abreu, Hee Sop-Choi, Carlos Lee and, to be fair, Bay as well, don't get the average fan salivating.

Continuing on my oft-successful prediction train: Papi Ortiz is my pick.

Delayed

Alright, let's be straight, it's been awhile since I've checked in with the blog and put thoughts from fingers to key. So let's get it on.

First off, lyric of the day for today is by request from Curtis Brown. CuBro shocked the world by playing a CD at his new house the other day that was the blackest I've ever seen him. Bob Marley was joined by the likes of The Roots, Mos Def and others. So not only did he burn a hip hop/reggae CD, he made it a pretty darn good one too. Props. (That mean's good job CuBro).

Sometimes at work, I'll strap on my headphones and load up iTunes on my computer and just listen to the urban radio stations provided. It's really the only way I can try and keep remotely in touch with the hip hop world while living in the land of 10 gallon hats and plaid shirts. Worse yet, the only folks around here that think they're hip hop are so ridiculously far from it, that you'd almost rather chill with Waylon Jennings and Kenny Chesney.

Wearing a cheap Exco "05" jersey and blasting 50 Cent out of your Hyndai, doesn't work. If hip hop wasn't so great in its finest form, I'd almost suggest that we collapse the genre — kinda like we should do to the NHL right now — and build it back up to lose ourselves of all the studio gangsters that infect the music.

Anyway, I've been on that rant before.

Ahh, just for the heck of it, let's do a list of five. As always, the completely random barometer of what is and what isn't.

1. Glen Hnatiuk getting love at the John Deere Classic.
2. Caribana
3. MLB.com Beat the Streak
4. This guy.
5. Cabbage leaves. With temps pushing over 40 degrees C in Manitoba, it's an idea that I'm no longer just entertaining. Expect to see me with foliage on my head at some point soon.

Without further adieu, by request, bang your head to this:

Lyric of the Day:
Yes, I am the inescapable, the irresistable,
The unnegotiable, the unchallenged [who dat?]
I am time
I scroll in measurements, control the elements,
I hold the evidence, I tell the story [say what?]
I am time
I know no prejudice, I bare no sentiments
For wealth or settlement, I move forward [who you?]
I am time
You can't recover me, conceal or smuggle me,
Retreat or run from me, crawl up or under me,
You can't do much for me besides serve
Me well and have good dividends returned to you
Or attempt to kill me off and have me murder you
Many have wasted me but now they are facing me,
Treated me unfaithfully and now endure me painfully
Plaintively, I wait to see what history will shape to be,
Who's hearts will never die inside the sake of me
Angel's scribe the page for me,
Keep a full account of all the names for me
And make a special mark for Hurricane who waited patiently.
Mos Def from The Hurricane

Sack, fumble, pick, sack, fumble, pick

Tee Martin certainly wasn't the second coming of Christ in his debut as a Winnipeg Blue Bomber.

The former national champion with the Tennessee Volunteers and third-string NFL'er was far from splendid in Thursday's loss in Winnipeg to the Edmonton Eskimos.

Still, while all the attention was understandably on Martin heading into the game and much of the negative feeback centres around him following a pitiful Bombers' performance, it is far from accurate to feed all the negative light on him in his debut. Yet, that's likely what most onlookers will do, especially in Winnipeg — where quarterbacks go to be hanged in the court of public opinion.

What Thursday's loss did expose, however, is a few glaring issues that, even two weeks into the season, are enough cause for concern to Bomber fans.

More indicative of Martin's play than anything was how pathetic the offensive line is right now. That fact is just amplified by the fact that Charles Roberts, arguably the most dynamic back in the league, has rushed for roughly -25 yards on 48 carries this year. (I made that stat up. It's actually 47 carries, but I need to make a point). Martin, the most mobile quarterback the Bombers have had since Matt Dunigan in the early 90s, was sacked three times in the first quarter alone. Once your team has established that kind of track record early on in the game, any rhythm is out the window. Martin was running for his life.

Jason Tucker's 105-yard touchdown pass — the longest in Eskimo history — pointed out maybe the most glaring weakness for Winnipeg, its secondary that hasn't improved in years. Not since 2001, when Juran Bolden was one of the most imposing defensive backs in the league, have the Blue DBs been remotely respectable, and even then they weren't setting the world on fire. Now it's just sad.

The DBs are at the mercy of good quarterbacks too because, despite the much-publicized additions to the defensive dozen, the front seven has picked up right where last year's unit left off: Nowhere near the other team's quarterback. The pass rush is invisible, evidenced by the fact the Eskimos' opening drive didn't even see a second down until Edmonton had reached the Bombers 20. Ridiculous.

It's an 18-game season, we have to realize. Tee Martin will improve but everything around him has to get significantly better quick. Luckily there's still 16 more games to go.

I'm ready for my close-up

Tough on the Toronto Raptors who absolutely got killed by the ESPN analysts Tuesday for selecting Connecticut big man Charlie Villaneuva with their first pick in the NBA Draft. Steven A. Smith screamed what everyone else decided to just speak in a regular tone of voice: What are they thinking?

More accurately, as Smith bellowed, what is GM Rob Babcock thinking?

Well of course the following day the media in Canada had a hey day with the Raptors and their seemingly bumbling pick of a guy that many experts and mock drafts had going in the mid- to late-first round. Media outlets got on the joking bandwagon and ripped the Raptors for butchering the draft one year after they made arguably the worst selection in team history by taking Rafael Araujo with their first pick in '04.

So if everyone else is taking shots at the Raptors for this admittedly poor selection, CKY-TV Winnipeg's Kevin Armstrong shouldn't be any different. Nor should his equally out-of-the-loop colleague Shawn Churchill who did the half-hour 11 p.m. cast. Armstrong berated the Raptors using many of the same adjectives that the ESPN crew had done the night before. All well and good, but this is the same broadcaster that called Miami Heat forward Udonis Haslem (You-DON-is), Odonis Haseem during the Heat's playoff run this season. (Never mind that Haslem was one of the big contributors for the Heat all year, so anyone who followed a lick of hoops this year would have known his name.)

Churchill follows later in the night expectedly with the same script but adds a little flavour to his number by calling the Raptor pick "Villanova". Really, Villanova? The school in Philadelphia? Someone call Rollie Massimino and tell him he's got a new job north of the border.

On top of all that, neither of them chose to discuss any of the other three picks the Raps had in the two-round draft. They took Joey Granger, described as one of the best athletes in the draft, at No. 16 and then selected what ESPN.com suggested was the steal of the second round in 6-foot-5 Euro point guard Roko Ukic.

Not even a mention of who else got picked. There were three others, y'know?

Here's the thing. I will tend to listen to the ESPN analysts, who follow the NBA religiously, 365 days a year as their full-time job, when they disect each draft pick with the oodles of information they have at hand. It's called respecting someone's opinion. But when two guys like Churchill and Armstrong jump on board and feel like the broadcast is the soapbox for their obviously uninformed perspective, there's not a lot of respect for opinion being thrown around on my behalf.

The same reason I don't want much of the American media chiming in and discussing why Todd Bertuzzi should be banned for what he did to Steve Young I don't want the Canadian media ranting about basketball that they cover so lightly (NBA) or not at all (NCAA).

Hey, for those who haven't caught on yet, don't necessarily accept the fact that a sports guy on TV has any more knowledge than the guy that pumps your gas — he probably just has better teeth. That's how it works.

A TV guy on Detroit's ABC affiliate — the sports director in fact — said after the Pistons lost Game 1 of the NBA Final that "when Bruce Bowen, who's not much of a three-point shooter, beats you, then you're going to have a long night." The same Bruce Bowen who is largely regarded as one of the best dead-eye perimeter shooters in the league and the same Bruce Bowen that the San Antonio Spurs draw up plays for specifically to get him open looks in the corner. Well put. Have you seen an NBA game?

Listen, there's a reason why I don't go on bioengineering blogs and give my feelings on microelectrodes. And there's a reason why I don't apply for jobs in economics or offer my hand to perform a frontal labotomy. I didn't stay at a Holiday Inn Express, so I don't feel like the world needs me mucking around in those areas that I clearly am not fit for.

Very simply, if you don't know what you're talking about — and these two and many others who sounded off don't — then keep your damn mouth shut.

• • • • •

Talking about the draft itself, certainly the Raps puked on their first pick. But, almost in spite of what everyone around has said in the past 24 hours, I'm not ready to proclaim that pick a bust. What I will say is that they did not use their first pick well at all. If Villaneuva was your prized pick, and there's really no reason he should have been, then he would have still been available to you at the No. 16 pick when you chose again. Plus you selected a guy in a position where you've already got Chris Bosh, one of the league's best up-and-coming '4' men. And you missed out on crazy athletes like Danny Granger and high schooler Gerald Green. You missed out on a banger like Sean May. You missed out on a speedy point guard in Nate Robinson (not a lottery pick potential guy for sure, but still) ...

Teams like the Boston Celtics and Indiana Pacers — who picked 17 and 18 in the first round — benefit from the idiocy of teams like the Raps who consistently pass up on the diamond-in-the-rough-guys allowing them to slip to the late rounds. In this case, playoff teams like the C's and Pacers basically got lottery picks by getting two of the most talented, exciting players in the draft.

Yes, Villanueva was the worst selection of the draft and Raptors fans have reason to be skeptical. But you know what? Given how misguided so many fans tend to be, I don't think they have any reason to be sinking the ship before the jump ball has gone up on the 05-06 season. Remember, this is the same legion that booed incessantly in 1995 when Toronto had the audacity to select Damon Stoudamire with its first-ever pick. The precious, sacred, deified fans, after all, wanted Ed O'Bannon. Stoudamire, you will remember at least gave Toronto two-plus seasons of solid play and became an icon in T-dot whereas O'Bannon ... well, I think he sold me a hot dog the other day.

Still, Babcock's tenure as GM in Toronto now has Araujo and Villanueva on the board, plus a Vince Carter trade that brought him nothing in the way of right-now talent and two first-rounders this year that we now see seem to have yielded very little. Babcock's days should be very, VERY short-lived.

• • • • •

The Los Angeles Lakers were feeling some heat over selecting Andrew Bynum, a 7-foot, 17-year-old, with their first pick. Also understandable that fans would be a bit vexed over a team that most would like to see improve now, deciding to go with a 'project' player with its first pick — a rare lottery selection for the Lake Show at that. I'm not angry over this, but I'm not elated either. I'd at least like to see how it may pan out before I start burning Mitch Kupchak in effigy. Well, burn him more.

I like getting Gonzaga's Ronny Turiaf early in the second round, a guy who doesn't mind banging a bit and shooting guard Von Wafer, if only for his name, is a nice addition that can maybe give the Lake the guy they've needed badly who can knock down a few shots when asked. Basically, I can't argue too much with the Lakers history in the draft, so that's why I'm once again openly, without hesitation putting my faith in the purple and gold.

One last note on the draft: Andrew Bogut as No. 1? I can't get comfortable over a big white guy being the future of any team. I say he's a buster by '08.

Well, instead, maybe I should call up Kevin Armstrong and see what he thinks.

Tee Martin debuts for the Bombers today. Fire it up. I'm ready.

The NBA Draft

Crashed. The running diary is no longer. Needless to say it was hilarious.

Highlights include the Raptors butchering their No. 7 pick. The Charlotte Bobcats pissing me off by taking Raymond Felton, who I wanted the Lakers to get followed by the Lakers pissing me off by selecting a 7-foot high school project. A team that needs to get better now, takes a project. And Tee Martin is starting this week for the Bombers. I'm excited.

My prediction (T by Week 4) has come true and I'm not so much excited for that as I am for Kevin Glenn not being the starter. (Who am I kidding? I'm absolutely giddy right now). This is simply the best thing that could happen for Winnipeg.

Fumble-aya

Y'know, the Bombers were atrocious on Saturday and deserve to be 0-1. My hand, however, is nowhere near the panic button. A couple of notes from Saturday's debacle.

• Was forced to watch only the second half because I was at the lake and my first realization: "Today's broadcast crew is Rod Black and Leif Peterson." If you want Glen Suitor to look knowledgeable, then take Peterson. There is arguably no worse tandem a network could come up with then Peterson and Black, the man best known for being loudly and repeatedly called out by me at a club in Halifax.

• Kevin Glenn's third-quarter fumble that resulted in a safety wasn't even addressed for what it was — a sack on the one-yard line in which the ground caused the fumble. Reason #4080 why CFL refs combined with CFL coverage is a horrible concoction. Glenn's ball-hand hit the ground and the ball popped out, clearly and unequivocally. The refs don't even discuss it and Peterson, there to enlighten the viewers, doesn't even acknowledge the possibility on the replay when it was staring him in the face. In fact, it was pretty obvious in real-time as well. This is not bitterness over the Bombers getting screwed — let's face it, the game was in hand at that point — but rather just frustration over the idiocy that everyone in the CFL just accepts.

• In another controversial third-quarter play, Wane McGarity drops a pass just before being smothered. The debate of Fumble vs Incompletion begins and the replays, because of the positions of bodies and TSN's lack of camera coverage (a fact I've brought up before as a reason why instant replay won't work in the CFL), shows absolutely nothing. Peterson decides to bring in the "If the CFL had instant replay right now" conversation and decides that the replay would have shown that the referees made the right call. Really? You can't even see the ball and you're telling us that?

Seriously, just hire me to cover CFL games now. There's NO possible way I could be worse than what's out there right now on TSN. Props to TSN for having Chris Cuthbert, one of the most talented and multi-faceted play men this country has.

The NBA draft is starting now. I will provide a running diary as best as I can.

Kicking off ... again

A little more than 24 hours from now the Winnipeg Blue Bombers will open their 2005 regular season in Regina against the Saskatchewan Roughriders, arguably the most infuriating team to be a fan of. You could make a case — a very strong one — that the Roughriders are absolutely the worst team to follow as a fan. Worse than the Cubs, worse than the Red Sox, worse than the Philadelphia Eagles, worse than ... well any team out of Philadelphia. Has there been a franchise that has shown its fans how utterly futile it is to follow it? One Grey Cup win and a pocket full of empty after that. On top of that, you're from Saskatchewan, which ain't helpin' things either. But fans from The Gap continue to come out in droves, and that you have to at least respect if not sympathize.

Hey granted the Bombers haven't been winning anything in awhile but you can't make the argument that they're in the same category of 'suck' historically as the Roughriders. In a nine-team league, you have to figure at some point your number is going to come up. Nope, not here. Instead fans hang around each year like the townspeople in The Lottery, only with usually grimmer results.

The Bombers will go with Kevin Glenn at QB with Tee Martin backing up, despite the fact Glenn was near atrocious in the preseason. I am still sticking with my prediction of Tee being No. 1 by Week 4. Glenn is not the guy to lead us to The Game. Which leads me to this: I met the woman of my dreams the other night, although I don't really know who she is or that I'll ever see her again. But long story short, we had an in-depth discussion about the Bombers fortunes and plans and she (not me) mentioned that the team needed to go to Martin to have a shot at it.

Now, finding a knowledgeable fan is a difficult thing. Rarely do people know what they're talking about when they say they're a fan, content to just spit the company line that makes them appear informed, but it doesn't even scratch the dust off the surface. Needless to say I was quite pleased to have an informed chat with someone on the subject of bleeding Blue and Gold, in Brandon no less.

Week 4, mark my words. (Hey, I was right that he was going to end up in Winnipeg.)

Back to work for me. But here, for those starving for it, is your

Lyric of the Day:
Lights, camera, tragedy, comedy, romance
You better dance from your fighting stance
Or you'll never have a fighting chance
In the rat race
Where the referee's son started way in advance
But still you livin' the American Dream
Silk PJ's, sheets and down pillows
Who the fuck would wanna wake up?
You got it good like hot sex after the break up
Your four car garage it's just more space to take up
You even bought your mom a new whip scrap the jalopy
Thousand dollar habit, million dollar hobby
You a success story everybody wanna copy
But few work for it, most get jerked for it
If you think that you could ignore it, you're ig-norant
A fat wallet still never made a man free
They say to eat good, yo, you gotta swallow your pride
But dead that game plan, I'm not satisfied

[Chorus]
The poor get worked, the rich get richer
The world gets worse, do you get the picture?
The poor gets dead, the rich get depressed
The ugly get mad, the pretty get stressed
The ugly get violent, the pretty get gone
The old get stiff, the young get stepped on
Whoever told you that it was all good lied
So throw your fists up if you not satisfied
J-Live, Satisfied

Where they're all true blue...

The Sea of Red of the University of Nebraska, long known for its football team, is overflowing into Omaha for baseball this weekend as the Huskers, the third-ranked team in the nation, are two wins away from the championship final of the double-knockout College World Series. But while the Huskers have won 16 of their last 17 games, it maybe won't matter coming up against a team like the Tulane Green Wave. As a superstitious guy, I have to say this is how every sports team should behave. Just a tremendous example of baseball superstition at its finest. But if any of that hoodoo voodoo goes against NU, I'm on the record as saying they're cheaters. Until then, whoop it up boys.

Just for the heck of it: This. And don't be afraid to sing along.

Hendo's page-a-day calendar here in the office is of the Dumbest Things Ever Said variety. One in particular I thought was quite funny and actually intrigued me enough to Google it. You can read about it here. On a side note, needless to say much of this calendar is populated by one George Walker Bush. Go figure.

On then to this week's list of five, the completely random barometer of what is and what isn't.

THE GAINERS
1. Joba Chamberlain ... local boy makes good.
2. Jack Johnson "Banana Pancakes"
3. Agent X
4. The Larky Awards (coming this week to a Brandon Sun near you)
5. Russ Michna
Others receiving votes: Phil Jackson, virtual Ben Roethlisberger on Madden 2001 (Rothlisbergr).

Cut this guy's headset off

This guy, might be the biggest jackass in all of sports. Honestly, does John Rocker even have anything on him?

Time out

Mike Webster's family continues to fight for his legacy, years after his death. Broderick Thomas' wife and kids only get to see a man who is a shadow of his former self and Terry Long's former teammates seem at a loss to describe what the former Pittsburgh Steelers' final days provided him before he died on June 7.

All three are stunning examples of what the rigours of life in the NFL — and the unexpected life without the NFL — can do to grown men whose status as icons put them in a rarified, and to be realistic, jaundiced standing.

Webster, long known for his steely toughness while wearing black and gold, died in September of 2002 but was left incapacitated six years prior to that due almost entirely to the pounding his body and mind took during a 16-year career in the trenches of the NFL. He was plagued by depression and lost on how to live in a world where football no longer defined him. Upon retiring in 1990, the once-revered Webster slipped off the radar and into a life tinged with homelessness and financial ruin.

Broderick Thomas is still alive — but he's attempted suicide twice. Since retiring Thomas barely has the inner will or physical strength to go about simple, everyday tasks. The former Nebraska Cornhusker all-American and NFL'er retired in 1997 with a myriad injuries that included complete degeneration of the cartilage in his knees and herniated discs that leave it impossible for him to sleep more than a half an hour at a time in any one position. His life was defined by being a star football player and while the pains of the game have ravaged his body, depression has taken over his mind, leaving him dependent on a handful of pills everyday to keep from finishing off the sad task he didn't complete twice before.

Terry Long's story is the cloudiest of the three, but no doubt just the same. Long also attempted suicide but, unlike Thomas, it came during his playing career, in 1991. He returned to the game that season but retired following it and, in total, two suicide attempts. He died this year at the age of 45, with autopsy results still pending. In the end, Long died as an unknown even to his former teammates, a friend that kept to himself, struggled with no longer having the identity he held for decades and riddled with depression and physical pain brought on by a sport and league that fails in its ability to prepare its players for life after the game.

Thomas called his sister before his first suicide attempt. Sobbing and apologetic, whole-heartedly convinced the only way to finally be at peace again was to put an end to the life that had recently brought him so much pain and suffering.

According to a Newsday report from earlier this year, within a year of being released from an NFL team, one-third of the players will report emotional problems, almost a third will be in financial trouble and of those who are divorced, half will get divorced in the first year of retirement. As a group, they commit suicide at a rate six times that of average Americans.

Football is a sport that rewards it warriors, lauds the ones that can play through the pain and shake off any adverse effects of the most physical game on the planet. It is also the sport that produces stories like Korey Stringer. And it presents daunting numbers that few people seem aware.

Broderick Thomas is still alive. Former Green Bay Packer Tom Neville isn't. After retirement, Neville was institutionalized with depression and alcoholism and, later armed with a gun, broke out of his treatment center, was chased, then shot and killed by police.

It shouldn't be a suprise that players who have spent their entire careers in a blinding glare of spotlight, often don't know where to walk when the lights go down.

Perhaps, because Broderick Thomas is still alive, his story can thankfully be known now as a testimony rather than an obituary.

And that light can be turned back on those who are regularly disregarded once they stop making headlines.

Substitution...

Mood: Khaki.

While waiting for the shift to end so Tiger Woods can be fired up on the PS, just a collection of thoughts on some pressing issues today.

• First and foremost, Phil Jackson is back as head coach of the Los Angeles Lakers. The Lakers' announcement was the only thing in the NBA that could have trumped Game 3 of the league Final: The city where scripts are born, adding another scene to its most dramatic, ongoing sports saga.

Everything that happens with the Lakers is big time and the team heightened that drama in the 21st century by providing onlookers with one of the great real-life soap operas of all time. But don't you think that drama just overshadows what is really a non-story anyway? Honestly, Phil Jackson is not going to be the saviour of this team. The Lakers are up against it hardcore when it comes to the salary cap and with no wiggle room there, the only hope is to find something golden in July's draft where they will, mercifully, have three picks in the two rounds.

The problem areas are not at the head of the bench for the Lakers. Not to argue that having Jackson around won't be a boost to what was a non-playoff team this year, but the glaring weaknesses are in the middle where they could really use someone like .... oh I don't know ... Shaquille O'Neal ... and at point guard where Chucky Atkins is outmatched. Moving Atkins to a back-up '2' would be a nice luxury if they could get someone to adequately hand the PG duties. Both of these will have to happen through the draft and perhaps UNC's Raymond Felton will be dressing in purple and gold next season. (Remember when the Lakers had O'Neal, Gary Payton, Kareem Rush and Derek Fisher?)

So it's with a cautious optimism that I look at the Lakers for 2005-06. I'm just not as fired up as the rest of the world seems to be.

• Michael Jackson. ... Man, maybe I'm one of the few that believe it, but I'm still on MJ's side here. I won't say that everything he's done has been the most normal or acceptable, but it still hasn't made him a child molester.

Remember that the impetus for this entire investigation was a completely slanted documentary by British filmmaker Martin Bashir which gave Leni Riefenstahl's Triumph of the Will a run for its money.

What Jackson has been most guilty of is poor decision making, from putting himself in the firing line time and time again. But this case is a perfect example of how the media can shape the public's opinion. Take into account the ungodly number of jokes, backhanded barbs and ridiculing pieces that comedians, news shows and entertainment programs have put together over the years and it's not a stretch to say the public can be swayed into just accepting the fact the guy is nuts and, for that, also a sexual deviant.

Still, very little in the way of concrete proof has ever surfaced about what he's done with these kids. Why? Because those that have surfaced to tell their stories have invariably been shown to be money-grubbers and con artists.

I don't disagree that The Glove has put himself in positions to be held up to intense scrutiny, but goofy outfits and peculiar behaviour doesn't add up to perverted criminal. As we saw with the evidence in this case, nothing added up that way and that's why Jackson is rightfully a free man today.

• Not to give up too much information about my regular day of work at the Brandon Sun, but my colleague in sports, Rob Henderson, and I tend to Google a lot during the course of an average day in the office. Hendo, I believe, shares my affinity for the mundane, random and useless pieces of information we all encounter in our day-to-day lives. As such, a new segment has been introduced to the Blog. So allow me to take you to ...

The Googleplex. The place to Google up.

• Mississippi Valley State University. Reason: Is it really an all-black school, because some white kid from Brandon golfed there on scholarship.

• Jason Alexander's wife. Reason: "He's probably got a hot wife," Hendo said.

• Bump J. Reason: "Who the hell is this guy on the new McDonald's commercial?" Well, according to his bio, apparently he runs the streets of Chicago the way one Alphonse Capone used to. Hmp, I see.

• Jordan Dumars. Reason: Curious about the height of the 14-year-old son of Joe Dumars.

Upon further review ... this needs review

Mood: Blue and gold

The CFL tested out its video replay review methods that it, by all accounts, hopes to implement for the 2006-07 season but if what happened in Halifax is any indication, it'd be a surprise to think anyone in the league would be in favour of it.

If you didn't catch the Hamilton Tiger Cats-Toronto Argonauts preseason game over in Hali, then you missed the CFL's incompetence at its best. Not just the officials, but the broadcasters as well — the two things that help ensure the CFL always looks bush league.

Ben Sankey's TD toss in the fourth quarter garnered the most attention and debate. Sankey approached the line of scrimmage on the run before releasing the ball, a flag was thrown for being over the line, which was then taken back when officials huddled and realized there was no infraction. Toronto head coach Mike Clemons challenged the play, referees said he couldn't because it was a judgement call and play went on. George Black, the director of CFL officials, said the refs were wrong in telling that to Clemons and that the play could have been reviewed, because it would have shown the right call was made.

Follow that?

Then TSN colour man Glen Suitor decides he should join in the discussion and proceeds to confuse the TV audience even more by repeatedly changing his angle and, all the while, still finding a way to be repeatedly incorrect.

Now, the two things that get me most irate about the CFL is the game-coverage the networks provide and the unbearable inconsistency and idiocy of its officials. With the CFL toying with the idea of bringing in instant replay, it has the chance of bringing these two worlds together to produce a heretofore unseen level of alarming incompetence. The blind leading the blind, shall we say.

One of the reasons the NFL replay works is because of the numerous camera angles available to an official when reviewing a debatable play. TSN, at best, will provide three angles with which to review a play. Anyone who has ever watched a CFL game on TV knows there isn't a lot of variance in the angles from which you can see a play again. The Sankey play was a perfect example. Despite the fact the angle settled on as the best for which to make a call couldn't tell you anything, everyone around the game seemed to be quite content to make bold statements that what was called on the field was unequivocally correct. Perhaps I wasn't looking close enough.

No one expected the CFL's system to be perfect in its first-ever game, and I'm not going to suggest the league shouldn't be going to instant replay, but let's be straight here. The biggest problem facing CFL officials is their inability to make even the most basic calls and their uncanny consistency in messing those up.

I wish the league the best with this and honestly hope it turns out for the better, but it just seems to have all the making of a situation that will infuriate fans even more than they already are. Remember, this is a league that has always insisted the emperor is fully clothed. It is isn't much of a stretch to suggest that when looking for "conclusive evidence" — the term the NFL likes to use — to overturn a call, that they just won't find any.

I love the CFL, like a parent loves its kid. But I'm also able to tell you that when the kid is trying to stick crayons into his ear, the parent needs to tell him that's not something they should be doing. But people with crayons drilled into their brains have been affecting this league for years, so maybe I'm missing something.

Pass the Crayloas please. Something in the navy-to-denim blue range, if you have it.

Other notes:
• The Nebraska Cornhuskers baseball team is in the quarter-final of the College World Series, held in Omaha, Neb. And meanwhile, the Huskers announced that now three of their football games this year will make national television. The usual Thanksgiving weekend clash with the Colorado Buffaloes, will go on ABC, but the network also picked up a September 17th match with the Pitt Panthers. TBS has signed on to do the game against Wake Forest. TBS has done a heck of a job of doing weekly games and giving audiences some different teams to look at rather than the usual marquis schools.

• Don't be fooled, the hottest team in baseball isn't the Chicago White Sox, Washington Nationals or even the Philadelphia Phillies. It's the Brandon Marlins of the Manitoba Senior Baseball League. Alright, maybe not but only six runs allowed in seven games is pretty good.

• Michael Jackson acquitted. (If you've been living in a cave). More on this tomorrow.

• Alright, one thing: The foreman of the Jackson jury was Paul Rodriguez. Apparently he was able to get some time off from his stint on Latino Comedy Fiesta.

• From one blog to another, Bill Simmons of ESPN.com's Page 2 has perfect analysis of not only the NBA final but of those who are paid to analyze it on TV. Specifically, he addresses the pundits' need to always take one extreme or the other. Find that story here, and tell me he's not right.

Lyric of the Day:
He was 13, brought up in Baghdad
Ate with his right and made money with his left hand
Prayed to the East, 5 times daily
His mother and father just had a new born baby
Now his father was an Imam who carried the weight
And built his family on 5 pillars of faith
Never trippin off Western ways, it meant nada
Pilgrimage to Mecca to circle around Kabba
300 miles away, British troops hit Basra
His cousin waged jihad and died with honor
He heard about the buildings on 9-11
And a man named Bush on a search for weapons
Now here come the U.S., to crush Saddam
Wit 88 thousand tons of missle and bombs
But his family's too broke to move or find shelter
If they all had to die, they would die together and that's cold
Xzibit, Cold World

Halftime show

Another random moment that I felt needed to be brought out publicly. So, just for the heck of it:

Homer Simpson on his many occupations:
"You know I've had a lot of jobs: boxer, mascot, astronaut, immatation Krusty, baby proofer, trucker, hippie, plowdriver, food critic, conceptual artist, grease salesman, carny, mayor, griftor, bodyguard for the mayor, country western manager, garbage commissioner, mountain climber, farmer, inventor, Smithers, Poochie, celebrity assistant, power plant worker, fortune cookie writer, beer baron, Kwik-E-Mart clerk, homophobe, and missionary, but protecting Springfield, that gives me the best feeling of all."

Spiked

My good friend Julio Garasa put me on to this, which, in it, provides an early contender for my "Rant That Didn't Come From Me of the Year Award."

As Garasa puts it, summoning the spirit of Homer Simpson, "Ahhh, alcohol.  The cause of, and solution to, all life's problems.
But I wonder what he really thinks of Warren Sapp?"

Well said.

Timeout

Early post today (or late, depending how you look at it) ... and I'm going to make it a quick one.

Shaquille O'Neal, I've always said, is one of the better quotes in the NBA and one of the finer guys too. He always got a lot of flack in Los Angeles because that team was so successful and confident, that he was lumped in as an arrogant ego. Certainly there's no lack of confidence there with Shaq, but he's a pretty genuine guy.

While a Laker, one of his annual rites was to give out gifts to kids in Compton and inner-city LA during Christmas time. He didn't just sign the cheque, he took it on his own. He was known to drive through the neighbourhood and hand out PlayStations, mp3 players, DVD players, etc., the price tag often in the range of $150,000.

He hosts "Shaqsgiving" each year in which he helps feed the homeless, has pledged $1 million dollars to Boys and Girls Club of America, is a national spokesman for Reading is Fundamental and through his "Shaq Paq" program invites underprivileged children to NBA games throughout the season.

And now this.

For all the talk about how selfish athletes are, and there are many, there are quite a few that do some great things and Shaq is one of those guys. This is a nice story. One of my favourite NBAers because of things like this.