Limb and a prayer

I am nothing if not bold.

And not bold in the corporate advertising sense when they use the word to describe a new steaksauce's taste alongside the word "zesty." Because, let's be honest: I may be bold, but I am far from zesty.

(I have no idea what I'm talking about.)

Bold in the sense of predictions. Understanding whole-heartedly that even if I can brag about boldness in my predictions, I rarely get to brag about success in my predictions. That's the thing, if you step far enough out on a limb, you rarely get a chance to come back and talk gleefully about it.

But here's a few I have entertained in the past few days.

Bold Prediction No.1: Ricky Williams will not lead the CFL in rushing this season.
Bold Prediction No.2: The Winnipeg Blue Bombers will finish 11-7 this season.
Bold Prediction No.3: On June 23, 2006, the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, in their regular-season home debut, will hold Ricky Williams to under 100 yards rushing.

Now, the latter of the first two is decidedly less bold than the former, but not all that lacking in brashness when you consider how immersed in suckitude the Bombers were in 2005. I think 11-7 has a nice ring to it and I'd certainly be pleased with that mark. I will be seeing the Blue in their first regular-season action on Friday night at Winnipeg Stadium (we don't have to use the corporate name, you know), and I will form a report on first glimpse from that. In the meantime, I'll reserve judgment on Nos.2 and 3 except to say that I'm encouraged by what is in camp this season.

But as for No.1, it's a prognostication that many people would utterly disagree with, evidenced by the lambasting I took when I shook hands on a 10-dollar bet of the like.

So here is my theory.

Ricky Williams is indeed a tremendous talent and would likely be Pro Bowl material in the NFL this season all things being equal. Let the rest of this argument not go on without understanding that I acknowledge the aforementioned's potential to completely annihilate this league in his one kick at it.

I just don't think it's going to happen that way.

I'll fully acknowledge that perhaps 50 per cent of my logic stems from my just-now-devised Theorem of Mass Hysteria that says, paraphrased: If the entire population is convinced it's going to happen, be prepared that it won't. The most recent proof of this came in the NFL Draft (re: Bush, Reggie).

Are we not underestimating the talent of the defensive players in the CFL? And are we not overlooking the very different styles of play from what Ricky has gotten used to and what he'll experience in the CFL?

The CFL has always had this air of inferiority hanging over it whenever an NFL star comes north. And you know what happens when they get here? Usually not much.

Jim Zorn, who's on the Seattle Seahawks wall of fame for God-sake, was a complete bust; Albert Connell breezed through with hardly anyone noticing, Dexter Manley was as expected (old and useless) and, Lawrence Phillips — with arguably the same athletic pedigree as Williams — had a measure of success but was far from becoming the historical back he hastily christened himself when he arrived.

This is where I see Ricky fitting in, somewhere in the middle.

First off, linebackers in this league aren't just pylons. They're athletic, very quick and they're damn sure not going to be comically diving and missing by five feet as he sprints untouched down the field like some poorly-produced sitcom scene. This isn't Rudy "Sweet Feet" Huxtable people.

I can't back up my gut feeling with statistics, except to suggest that the Argonauts are the pass-happiest team in the pass-happy CFL. Hence, Ricky won't be getting 30 carries a game, likely. That said, I don't even really believe that to be a strong argument. After all, you'd be a fool to not use your most dangerous weapon repeatedly.

No, I can't and don't feel the need to back up my gut reactions with these things called facts. Just suffice it to say, I'm confident that Ricky won't get off like everyone and their mother is predicting. Leading me to...

Still, the Argos are suddenly loaded at the RB and we're just to expect that incumbent John Avery and young gun Jeff Johnson, who the team was in love with late last season in a relief role, are suddenly not getting the ball ever?

I just think we need to tone it down a bit before we go predicting a 2,000-yard season with 36 TDs or something ridiculous. He's very good. I get it.

Bold Prediction, No.3:

If I'm way off base on either of Nos.1-2, I will delete records of this blog and deny any and all existence of the words stated herein.

But I'm predicting that won't be necessary.

Go Blue.

I'd know that face anywhere...

You know the theory.

The one that says you can go your entire life without ever hearing a word, a name, a person, a place or whatever it may be. Then, once you hear it once, you hear it at least three more times in the next week, month. You can't avoid it.

That's how I feel about Lordi.

To save the long story about how I ever found about out this... uhhh ... unique Scandinavian band, suffice to say that I've heard repeatedly about the fearsome Finns over the past couple of weeks, culminating in ...

This story.

As it relates to my blog, this story and this band and the fact I'm putting it on my little space has nothing to do with anything. I simply thought it was quite funny and it makes my point...

Finnish people are crazy.

A place to stand, a place to grow....

Onterri-erri-erri-o!

With a tip of the hat to the catchy old propagandist Ontario tourism board song, the Winnipeg Blue Bombers inked NFL castoff Onterrio Smith to a reported one-year-with-option deal while he serves a suspension down south.

Current Bombers running back Charles Roberts did his expected routine of raising hell about the much-anticipated deal and even reportedly demanded a trade in the process. Roberts is pretty much the boy crying wolf on the Bombers, a guy who has stomped his feet and gone public with his beefs in the past to the point where no one even really bats an eye when he throws out another idle threat. Now, that comment isn't said with any malignancy, it's just that Roberts has made a habit in the past of rocking the boat but with very little muscle behind his punch. Roberts is in a great situation in Winnipeg, he knows it — we all know it — and the Bombers aren't stupid enough to compromise the abilities of arguably the best RB in the league by putting him on the backburner.

However, it will be interesting to see how the Bombers use Smith and still get Roberts the number of touches he needs and should garner. One media outlet suggested he'd be used in a Keith Stokes-esque capacity, which would mean lining up in a slot, returning kicks and occasionally coming out of the backfield.

Whatever. Just get it done.

The Bombers have made, thus far, the biggest splash in the CFL off-season by signing — to date — the biggest name of the spring free agency period (statement subject to change; Re: Williams, Ricky). In fact, you could make an argument that the 25-year-old is the most marquis of signings since Dexter Manley signed on with the old Ottawa Roughriders. Or Andre Rison with the Toronto Argonauts? Albert Connell to the Calgary Stampeders? Big statement? Sure, but off the top of your head name a guy who's come up here from the NFL with such pedigree, pomp and circumstance.

Smith, if he ever gets his stuff together, is a bonafide NFL back who the Vikings were elated about having when he came out of Oregon. (Side note: He was also good enough to crack my fantasy football team as a rookie. Very impressive.)

What accompanies Smith's arrival in the Peg City is the expected condescension of those who say the CFL shouldn't be welcoming players like Smith and Williams who have each had much-publicized drug run-ins that have stalled promising, even all-star, careers in the NFL.

Get over yourself and look at what the CFL is. The Bombers could have an "Original Whizzinator" promotional night for all I care, as long as the guy packing the prosthesis helps put W's in the standings. This is also a league that houses the Hamilton Tiger Cats who, once upon a time, put steroid-addled sprinter Ben Johnson on its negotiation list just because he was fast.

No one in that league should be able to look themselves in the mirror and keep a straight face when they suggest that the league itself would even consider not bringing these guys in. The CFL is not only highly reliant on ticket sales and walk-up crowds but also constantly champing at the bit to get any kind of marquis name in its ranks, which is why Rison, Manley, Connell et. al. have found a home here if only for a brief time.

Now, this will come off as some hypocrisy on my part because I've always bragged about the Pittsburgh Steelers being a class organization that drafts and sign only class act athletes and coaches, and that that is one of the great things about being a fan of them. Terrell Owens, for example, would never be signed by the Steelers nor, for that matter, would Onterrio Smith quite likely. In fact, I found the Dallas Cowboys signing of Owens not only embarassing, but about as predictable as the sunrise. America's Team, if you haven't seen it before, is a mess with a nice track record of complete jackasses. But I digress.

Yet, the difference being — and it's a big one — is that that's the NFL, where you have your pick of the litter of talented players by the thousands waiting to play. Guys like Onterrio Smith and Ricky Williams don't come the CFL's way every day and any organization in this league would be insane to pass up the chance. The Winnipeg Blue Bombers aren't the Pittsburgh Steelers and that's fine with me.

Regardless, Smith is good. Very good. If I were running the Bombers and you had told me a few years ago, when he was at Oregon, that he would be a Bomber some day, I'd have jumped up, said "when" and then began printing his jerseys. And I'm not the only one.

This is professional sports folks, and in this particular case talent trumps all.

The Whale

I'm sitting at work watching the Carolina Hurricanes roar back on the Montreal Canadiens and, I'll be honest, it sickens me.

That "fans" in Raleigh, N.C. even get an NHL team is infuriating enough, that the NHL pillaged the good people of Hartford, Conn. in order to put another squad in NASCARland and, in so doing, ridded professional sports of the greatest team logo in the world of athletics, was a downright tragedy.

I, my friends, remain a Hartford Whalers fan. Ron Francis was the first non-Winnipeg Jet professional athlete to give me an autograph and that had me hooked. I bought a Whalers jersey for my hockey practises, watched the team religiously tease me with first-round playoff exits that were littered with so-close-but-oh-so-far efforts and then eventually swore off the bastard league that took away my two beloved teams.

Hartford Whalers, we hardly knew ye.

In honour of the harpooned Whale, I give you this, the most catchy of catchy tunes, The Hartford Whalers Victory March (nee: The Brass Bonanza), played after every goal by Kevin Dineen, Ray Ferraro, Terry Yake, Pat Verbeek or even Randy Ladouceur. Back in the days when the NHL wasn't playing the latest techno/trance song to pump up its team, when organs were regulars in the rafters of old barns, when divisions were named after great men like Adams, Smythe and Norris, and the closest the deep south got to having a team was trying to remember what that "Flames" team was that played somewhere in Georgia.

March on Whalers.

Here's to an early Carolina exit so the people of Raleigh can go back to cheering for what they actually know something about:

Purge and binge

My talking about the topic of the dismantling of the Ottawa Renegades wouldn't just be overkill, it would be completely frivolous as well. No one needs to read another person espousing on the mess that is the capital city's former football team. Needless to say, I feel bad for the people of Ottawa but am absolutely taxing my brain to figure out why the CFL would allow the Gliebermans anywhere within 1,000 feet of a franchise.

I did, however, see in one of the number of visual obituaries that aired on TV a small group of fans holding a black flag at a game that said "Renegade Nation." Seriously? I have to put some sort of moratorium on the use of " Nation" in sports. Leaf Nation, Raider Nation, Rider Nation... Enough. When the biggest laughingstock franchise in the history of the CFL gets to have a "Nation" — as if to insinuate this is some sort of storied franchise with legions of fans across the continent — then we've gone too far. Personally, I think it's time Ottawa is gone for good. The CFL — and the city of Ottawa — loses credibility everytime it tries to resurrect a team in the capital and the past two decades have shown that, for many and varying reasons, it's just not going to happen. Take that horse to the glue factory.

That said, the dispersal draft was a fun time, wasn't it? I mean, this was the equivalent of some old, rich coot — who never really was successful, just rich — filing Chapter 11 and then being forced to have a yard sale where everything was selling for 11 cents and under. Like the Enron guys comping that big Crooked E for a couple bucks.

Some experts have pegged the Bombers as the big winner in the draft and no doubt they've done well with their picks. Ibrahim Khan was arguably the most coveted player and Val St. Germain brings more veteran leadership to the O-line. More importantly, the Bombers now have two Canadians on the line allowing them to use some non-import spots in skill positions. Brad Banks is a guy everyone is very excited about but I think the jury is still out on him. He's athletic as hell, a former Heisman candidate at Iowa and has shown signs of being someone with a bright future, but you could dike the Red River with the bodies of the QBs who have been reported to have big upside and then never materialized.

The most curious move to me was the Saskatchewan Roughriders perhaps throwing their franchise under the bus for Kerry Joseph. I'm still not remotely sold on Joseph even though everyone has druelled over his potential since he came in the league. In the CFL, every team has a chance to be competitive every season and the Renegades never matured into much more than a team that scored a couple upset wins, scared a few people early on and then fell back into the "wait til next year" mode. Despite how badly CFL talking heads wanted them to succeed — after all it's their job to constantly hide the Emperor's nudity — the Renegades were a chump team that never made the playoffs and Joseph has to take a chunk of the responsibility for that.

In 2003, he had one of his best seasons and even then he threw for 19 TDs against 20 INTs. There's no doubting his athletic ability, although the Riders giving away Corey Holmes — perhaps the most versatile and dangerous player in the league — to get a guy who fits the mold of every Saskatchewan quarterback of the past decade is curious to say the least.

Marcus Crandell, Nealon Greene, Rocky Butler, Kevin Glenn, Henry Burris and now Kerry Joseph. Anyone seeing a connection between all these guys and the degree of suck the Riders have displayed? Kerry Joseph could be the guy to take them over the top, but I'm not betting on it. To franchise one of the best players in the league just to obtain a carbon copy of all the other failing QBs you've had is bone-headed at best. But we wouldn't expect much else out of the Gappers, now would we?

---

How I didn't lead with this item is beyond me but, brace yourself people, Saturday was Nebraska's Spring Game meaning there is just 141 days until the season starts against Louisiana Tech at old Memorial.

Some 57,000 people showed up to see the Red-White game, which is little more than the final scrimmage of spring practice but nonetheless a golden chance to have a look at what might be for 2006-07.

To say I'm excited about this season is an understatement. For the first time in the Bill Callahan/West Coast-era, the Huskers have expectations on them. A three-game win streak that included a road win at Colorado and an Alamo Bowl-victory over Michigan capped off last season and got Big Red fans jazzed about the team again. Well, not like the fans ever went anywhere, but the last few seasons have been the most taxing in Husker history.

Zac Taylor is back to lead the offence, the backfield could be a three-headed monster with Cody Glenn, Marlon Lucky and Leon Jackson all lining up to take the departed Cory Ross' place, the defence will be as good as ever and kicker Jordan Congdon enters his sophomore season after one of the best freshman year's in the Big 12.

For the first time since Callahan took over, the Huskers are once again at least being mentioned as a potential North Division winner, although they'll have Iowa State it would appear to jump over.

This year's Canadians for Nebraska roady takes place Oct. 19-22 when we head down to Lincoln to see the defending national champion Texas Longhorns. This trip will top everything I've ever done in my life. That's how successful I've been.

Anyway, one time before we break for the summer ... GO BIG RED!

The Final Countdown

The demolition of the Winnipeg Arena made national news and was captured with great commitment to detail by this site.

So the Old Barn, as it was affectionately called, was eulogized over the past couple of days despite the fact the demolition had been occuring over a number of months and Sunday morning's implosion was just the death blow that — eventually — brought it officially to ruin.

The Arena was forgotten about rather quickly after it was officially made a relic when the ritzy downtown MTS Centre was opened in 2004 and the main tenants, the Manitoba Moose, switched homes. Winnipeg is a city not big enough for the both of them, after all.

With the cookie-cutter variety of arenas in North America popping up in virtually every city of any repute, I always enjoyed the fact the Winnipeg Arena had its quirks and was proud of those quirks. I think that's a statement about most Winnipeggers, too: We're usually proud of our idiosyncrasies.

The Arena held a number of memories for me and I was far from pleased to see it destroyed. When the Eaton's building downtown was demolished to put up the MTS Centre, I hardly shed a tear because I had no emotional connection to that structure, what with it having been constructed and long through its heyday decades before I came around.

But the Arena, I realize now, was the first building anywhere that I held an affinity towards and — now that it no longer exists — I too know now that I had some sort of odd emotional investment in it. Folks who had been in Winnipeg for decades were sad to see the Eaton's building fall because it had been a part of their upbringing, a significant figure throughout their lives and the loss of it was taking away something they directly identified with for a large part of their existence. So then, suggesting that a faceless framework of steel and bricks has a familial feel to it isn't so crazy.

That's how Winnipeg Arena was to me.

I watched from the cheap seats my first Jets games when I was in Grade 1 and my brother got some tickets through school for being a patrol guard. I saw the Calgary Flames — Hakan Loob, Lanny McDonald and Kent Nilsson — and the Boston Bruins — Rick Middleton and Ray Bourque — that year. As years went on I got to see the Hartford Whalers (my beloved other team), Wayne Gretzky and the Edmonton Oilers at their peak, Denis Savard and the Chicago Blackhawks. In essence, I saw some of the greatest NHLers ever come to my city, something significant now in hindsight as Winnipeg yearns to bring a team back. From the low rows in 1993, I watched the Toronto Maple Leafs with my dad.

I went with my Sir John Franklin Explorers hockey team and cheered wildly from the absolute back of the arena as our head coach miraculously managed to land a paper airplane on the ice. I still remember Andy Van Hellemond pausing the game slightly between face-offs so that he could retrieve it from the ice. A tremendous memory and it happened some 15 years ago.

I skated on that ice, too, which still ranks among the greatest experiences of my life. My brother, when coaching our River Heights Cardinals, got us a practice on the Arena ice and I couldn't get over that I was skating on the same spots that Dale Hawerchuk did when he was the idol of all Winnipeg Jets fans.

In elementary school I competed in the city-wide speedskating championships and even won a few, although I don't remember how many. I do remember, however, that with all the schools bringing supporters it was — even then — an electric feeling of performing on the city's most coveted stretch of ice in front of screaming onlookers.

I was there in 1995 at the premature funeral of the Jets. Don Cherry called Winnipeggers the greatest fans on the planet, Ed Olczyk screamed "when we win the Stanley Cup ... It's coming back to Winnipeg" and, quite conversely Thomas Steen, in his famously shy way, wished aloud for one more year of the NHL in Winnipeg. He, and all of us, surprisingly got our wish to have one final year-long good-bye.

I made it a point to be at the final game ever played at Winnipeg Arena and wrote a column about it for the next day's edition, Nov. 7/2004, and I'm glad I did.

I've barely been back to Winnipeg in the months since the deconstruction of the Arena began and I'm not sure I'm all that enthused to see the blank hole that now exists.

A crowd gathered around in a prolonged state of perverse gawking on Sunday morning to see the Winnipeg Arena, and 50 years of history, implode. Cheers went up with the dust and the smoke. I wasn't there and I'm glad I wasn't.

All the images I need are permanently engrained in me and I'll prefer to leave them that way. After all, that Old Barn housed a lot more than just some steel and bricks.

---

NB: For another reminder of Winnipeggers' unique and unmatchable love for their Jets, this is a nice trip down memory lane.

Firing line

This is ridiculous.

By all accounts, Andy Murray's one of the good guys in the NHL and I won't hide the fact that the following has a tinge of bias because the man is a local and he's always made himself available to myself or other reporters at the Sun when a story was in the works. I interviewed him after he led the Canadian team to the world championship gold medal in 2003.

That said, well before Murray was given the axe by the underachieving, if not overly talented, Los Angeles Kings on Tuesday, I've ranted about idiot organizations that prove time and again why they are regularly forgotten about when the term "success" is brought up.

With all due respect to the adage that coaches are hired to be fired, it's not hard to figure out why certain teams continue to wallow in mediocrity. What's infuriating, from a fan's standpoint, is the seeming obliviousness of the people who run these teams have to what is going on right beneath their noses.

Sometimes, however, it's not inattention but rather indifference. The Chicago Cubs, save for the Year of Bartman, have regularly been bottom-feeders to the extent they've earned a nickname that characterizes them as such. Curses be damned, this is an organization that has never seen any urgency to make a concerted effort to build a contender knowing full well people will still flock to the Friendly Confines regardless of the bums who are put on the field.

But for those teams that do at least purport to be about getting better, the road to success is often littered with idiocy.

Best case scenario? The Buffalo Sabres fire Ted Nolan following the 1996-97 season, a campaign in which all he did was take his God-awful team to the second round of the playoffs and win the Jack Adams Trophy for coach of the year. Peruse the roster of that Sabres team and you'll find what Nolan did with it was nothing short of remarkable. It's a murderers' row of lame ducks: Donald Audette, Brian Holzinger, Dixon Ward and team-leading scorer Derek Plante (!), who blistered to 53 points in 82 games. (And before you suggest the Late 90s-NHL-as-no-offence-league argument, consider the fact that the top nine scorers in the league had at least 90 points).

Anyway, that's off topic.

Bringing us back to Murray, the Kings are nine games above .500, currently sitting in a tenuous playoff position and have 12 games remaining in the regular season. Top scorers Pavol Demitra and Alexander Frolov have been in and out of the lineup all season with injuries (mostly out) and the Kings have a shaky goaltending situation. Re: Ted Nolan, it's a wonder this team has been successful as it has.

The timing of the decision appears, at the outset, to be atrocious at the very least and shortsighted at best. Now the Kings will go through the drama of a coaching change at the most critical point of their season and, even if they do make the playoffs, are likely fodder for a first-round opponent anyway.

You can run off a laundry list of teams that simply don't get it. A grab bag of organizations run by mental midgets who somehow never notice the difference between themselves and the ones that are regularly, consistently among sports elite.

Put the L.A. Kings in that category.

The only question is: Is it because of inattention or indifference?

Please wipe your feet

The weekly documentary news program CNN Presents discussed the world's oil crisis on Sunday and discovered Canada's oil surplus, investigating what Alberta's land means to the rest of the world... Well, to the U.S.

Not nearly as offensive as most American TV is about Canada, the episode still reaked of the usual jingoism American media is so well known for. Of course, it prompted me to write an email.

My words to CNN:

It would be prudent, I believe, to remind CNN that the network is a global entity and, more specifically, a North American network that needs to remember there are Canadians who turn to it for news as well. While we are indeed honoured that CNN has found a story north of the 49th parallel, let us please not forget that the oil crisis, and Canada's role in assisting, also affects Canadians. So when you raise, on air, the question "how does this affect us?" the attitude plays like the U.S. eating off our plate and saying "oh, were you gonna finish that?" It is a global crisis. The least you could do is portray it as such. And while you're at it, leave out the misguided allusions to my country being some arctic outpost. Americans' views of Canada are already skewed enough as it is.

Parched Madness

If you heard a wooshing sound about ... oh ... around midday Friday, that was the sound of my NCAA bracket going down the drain.

Now, let's be straight here people. I put in more thought, logged more hours and crunched more statistics for this year's draft than any year previous. I printed upwards of 50 pages from bracketologist Pete Tiernan and poured over the minutia of his statistical renderings. I was the Expert of All Experts.

I filled out the bracket with confident pen strokes yet all the while maintaining the same caution a teenager uses to avoid stepping on the creaky parts of the floor when he's sneaking in the house at night. I got through the first round sluggishly and pondered the key games in bracket pools: Figuring out the Nos.10, 11 and even 12 that might play the role of Cinderella.

Well, San Diego State literally (literally)threw the game away against Indiana; Utah State never looked remotely competitive against Washington and Bucknell beat Alabama, making my lone "upset" to come through a mere No.9 over a No.8. Big deal.

On top of all that? Because of Tiernan's overwhelming statistical findings I even went against my gut in games such as Montana v. Nevada, George Mason v. Michigan State, Texas A&M v. Syracuse. Had I gone with the Larkins system, tested and true in a pool victory last season, I would have had three significant upset picks through to the second round.

I almost had to quit my job to cover all of the Tiernan compilation and then almost enrolled in a night course to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

A sample:

The No. 1 seeds that advance to the Final Four tend to be experienced squads, having been to the tourney the previous year. They also boast a preseason Associated Press All-American, beat their opponents by more than 10 points per game and get between 25 and 65 percent of their scoring from the backcourt. Top seeds with these attributes are 31-21 in getting into the semifinals; those without them are 5-27.

Now, it's not biochemistry or thermonuclear dynamics but it's rather involved, nonetheless. Incidentally, I would have fared just as well in a pool on those subjects as I have done on the NCAA. The lesson here? Never read.

Point of the matter?

*turns body to face full-length mirror*

David, believe in yourself. When someone says Zips, you go Zags. When everyone and their mother is banging Boston College for the Final Four, you stick to your guns and remember Villanova was your pick for the championship game a month ago and you're not wavering from it. So when some nerdlinger ad-exec-by-day turns bracketologist and tries to blaspheme your beloved sport by making manno a manno into an exact science and you buy it up like a fat man reaches for his SaunaBelt, you remember, oh Merchant of the Madness, you're the guy who picked Louisville (on a TV appearance no doubt) to be in the Final Four last year and no one can ever replace gut reactions.

Now, everyone, suck up the Iowa's, Tennessee's and Nevada's and move happily into the second round of the greatest tournament in sports. New games await and they are yours for the picking.

Just remember to flip a coin.

Premonitions

I'm not saying I predicted Slobodan Milosevic's death, just that he doesn't watch beach volleyball, but perhaps my blog is now a death clock of sorts.

If I have somehow, through some sort of unspoken, unknown connection between my blog and the future of humanity, directly affected a person's existence, then...

I think I'll blog more about Elvira Kurtz.

UPDATE!

Do yourself a favour and Google the name Elvira Kurtz. Go, do it. Now.

Alright, here, I'll do it for you.

See that? I'm out there baby!

The Bread Crumbs post worked. My stupid, utterly ridiculous ploy has me back on top of yet another Google search.

If you don't know me, this is basically what I cling to in life — completely meaningless accomplishments. This is my equivalent of having a hit single on the Billboard charts or a best-selling novel. Yup, it's true.

Side note, here friends: Have I also been directly involved in the annihilation of Kurtz's career? No.

But, think about it, is this not a beautiful commentary that backs up everything I've ever said about her? This is supposedly one of Canada's finest comedians (according to her people only of course), she hosted a nationally-televised show, she has been shoved down our throat over the past five years despite blatant evidence of her disgraceful lack of talent and the end result is that a Google search turns up, right at the top, my stupid little rant.

Beautiful. Friends, I present to you the career death knell of Elvira Kurtz, brought to you — in part — by David Larkins.

I will try not to use my powers for evil.

Reintroduction

Friends, I'm admitting to an addicition the last couple of weeks. It's the finest point of hoop season around the continent and, while I watch as many conference tournaments in anticipation of The Big One, I'm getting my fix on the Internet as well.

This addiction knows no bounds. In fact, as I type this, I'm listening to the audio archive of the Montana-Eastern Washington Big Sky Conference semifinal from Tuesday night.

Eastern, if you didn't know, holds a small piece of the family of Canadian basketball. Like the Sutters or the Staals of hockey, the Bekkering family has produced an inordinate amount of talented basketball players. Anna and Cory both played five years with the University of Calgary women's team, their brother Ross just completed his first year with U of C's men's team, youngest sibling Janelle is one of the best high school girls players in western Canada and cousin Matt just wrapped up his fourth year with the Lethbridge Pronghorns.

And then there's Henry, the 6-foot-7 sophomore with the Eagles who turned the Canadian basketball community on its ear with his remarkable showing at the 2003 SuperPages II All-Canadian High School Basketball Game. Bekkering made his name in Alberta basketball circles well before his senior year at Taber's W.R. Myers, but the appearance at the all-Canadian game cemented him as — rightly or wrongly — one of the most exciting Canadian players to keep your eye on.

Without further adieu, watch Bekkering's dunk contest footage from that 2003 game at Capilano College. That clip made him an Internet underground legend and earned him an appearance on The Best Damn Sports Show and a small blurb in the online encyclopdia, Wikipedia.

From Wikipedia:
This Canadian dunk contest was made famous on the internet by the amazing dunks of 6'5" Henry Bekkering which included a windmill slam over a standing person and a left handed freethrow line dunk jumping off 2 feet. Video of the contest dissemnated quickly across the internet and it's fame led to a television appearance for Bekkering on the "Best Damn Sports Show"

Ed. note: A blurry, pudgy figure in the background near the end of the clip is yours truly.

When you're done all that, though, get your eyes focused on a guy who will actually be playing in this year's NCAA tournament: Champlain St. Lambert graduate Pierre Marie Altidor-Cespedes, a 6-foot guard whose got more game than letters in his name. He will play start and play significant minutes for a very highly-touted Gonzaga Bulldogs team.

Puck

A friend of mine, earlier in the day Monday, told me an out-of-nowhere bit about someone they knew — and we both didn't have much affinity for — had died of a brain aneurysm. The connection we had to this person was thin, to say the least, but her mentioning it still stuck an empty feeling in me, despite the fact he was not overly liked by either of us (for reasons not needing to be mentioned).

We walked silently for a bit after she dropped that morsel of info on me until I said "it's an ugly feeling to hear about anybody dying," and this was with full recognition that this guy wasn't anywhere near our good graces.

It's a hollow feeling, no matter your connection — or lack thereof — to the person in question.

So I'm sitting here being an insomniac but, because of a day off, separated from the sports world as I sometimes try to avoid headlines when I'm not in the office.

I turn on CNN and the ticker is rolling with those quotes. You know the ones, when someone dies, that you read or hear and just know they're talking about someone in the past tense.

I'm reading Carleton Fisk and Carl Pohlad's quotes and I know that Kirby Puckett is dead.

I flick to ESPN.com and he's there smiling — as I think his lasting image always was going to be — with that depressing stamp that goes on visual obituaries, the birth-to-death year.

If I'm to be honest, I was never a Minnesota Twins fan, and I can't even say I ever felt overly fanatical about Kirby Puckett either. If someone asked me if I liked him, then the natural answer would be yes and "how could you not?"

Laying out page B3 of the Brandon Sun for Monday's pages on Sunday night, I needed a story to fill a spot and realized I had Puckett's stroke/surgery story yet to be placed. At the time, it was a minor story — a guy who was surely going to make it through — and I played it low on the page, grabbed a photo off the wire of him smiling with his Hall of Fame plaque. In hindsight, I'm glad that I did.

Monday I went into the office and read the story on the wire that Puckett was in critical condition. Later, quite surprised, I found out he was dead.

Puckett was part of an era of sports when I was a kid, when I was playing every sport I could, every day that I could and followed every stat line and every highlight. My friend Paul was a big Twinkies fan and, even though I wasn't a fan myself, Puckett's career was still parelled by my fandom in sports. As I soaked in every baseball highlight — and understand I'm not even a huge stickball fan — his playing days were playing out in front of me.

Point being? Fanatical or indifferent, fact remains that I grew up watching Kirby Puckett and I have an appreciation for what that means.

Puckett was not, by any means, a flawless hero as sometimes his sports image was made out to be. He certainly had very public flaws at times.

Still, Puckett is remembered — as anyone in death will be — for the positives. And because of those, his premature death makes those instinctive feelings around death that much uglier.

Bread crumbs

Just installed a hit metre on the blog here, allowing me to keep track of how many folks are coming by on any given day and one of the things I can do is track how people found the site.

For instance, when I so innocently decreed that Mike Holmgren "reacted like a schoolchild who lost the tetherball championship when his opponent grabbed a piece of the rope," over his childish pouting after the Super Bowl, I managed to move The Point After to No.2 on the Google search for "tetherball championships." Brilliant.

So watch me now as I make an attempt to again generate some random traffic through the good people at Google in a little segment I like to call:

Finding Me on Google

• Hey did you hear about that war in Iraq? Right now President Bush's approval rating is about as low as an introvert Christian girl on an episode of Elimidate.. Possible Google searches:Iraq Elimidate; President Bush Elimidate; introvert Christian Elimidate.

• I drank three bottles of Nestea today. There is a beach volleyball tournament in The Hague that is sponsored by Nestea. I doubt that Slobodan Milosevic watches beach volleyball. Possible Google searches:Beach volleyball Slobodan Milosevic; Nestea Slobodan Milosevic.

• The Acadamey Awards are today and I can safely say I can't name you one woman in line for best female lead. I will, however, wager that it's not Laura Prepon for Karla or Elvira Kurtz for anything. Ever.Possible Google searches:Elvira Kurtz not funny; Elvira Kurtz laughably God-awful; Elvira Kurtz the worst thing to happen to Canadian comedy since Check it Out.

And if anyone happens to Google "Don Adams Check it Out" well then I'll score myself another one.

In the meantime, good night everyone and enjoy the tetherball championships!

The Revolution will be televised ... on cable access

Latest news? I'm getting a show on WCG-TV, what I call southwestern Manitoba's cable access alternative. I call it that only because that seems to sound a bit bigger than "that station that has four shows on it."

Anyway, it will start airing in April, it will be once a month to start and then once every two weeks if things go smoothly. Right now I'm just in the formative stages of figuring out how I want to do it. Well, more accurately, figuring out what segments will fill an entire hour. Here are my criteria:

• No ideas ripped off from popular American sports talk shows. I leave that to TSN.

• An understandng that no one is coming to my show on cable access for cutting-edge news.

• Something creative and, because I myself am not creative, this is where input would be appreciated.

The only thing I've come up with for starters is the opening segment called "The Rant" which will be show-starting editorial that will segue into the main segment of the show, which the panel of guests will discuss.

The Kings of the Hill favourite "Make Your Own Interview" will also make an appearance once and awhile.

So if anyone has anything they think would be a unique concept to add to the show, please leave a comment. In the mean time, I'll just sit here in the corner banging my head against the wall. Hey, it's how I get ideas for my blogs after all.

We now switch our attention

As spring nears, but namely March, my attentions are shifted squarely over to basketball with university and college playoffs on the way. Nothing beats this time of year, really. If you can find anything in sports that rivals the NCAA's March Madness I'm fully prepared to call you a dirty liar.

Fully understanding that most people who happen to saunter by this little space on the web aren't overly interested in my thoughts on CIS basketball, I'll save you my feelings that the UBC Thunderbirds are going to undefeated into the national tournament.

What I will tell you, though, is that the annual all-Canadian high school game is just around the corner and the nominees have been named for the final two rosters.

The folks at HoopLife.ca are the ones that put this on year to year. HoopLife is a manifest of the former BasketballJones.ca, which I used to write for and contribute to. If you have any love for basketball in this country, HoopLife is something you should give love to. They've done a tremendous job covering so many angles of basketball in Canada and just the putting together of this game — a few guys committed to a big undertaking — speaks volumes.

The teams will be separated into East and West this time around. It's a particularly good crop of players in Saskatchewan and Manitoba this year. Likely represented in the all-Canadian game will be 6-foot-10 Winnipeg Adam Dobrianksy who has committed to play at New Jersey's Monmouth University next year. Potentially Nick and Dan Lother, the twin guards from Winnipeg Jeanne Sauve could be there as well. Perhaps look for one of, if not both, players to be Brandon Bobcats next season.

In Saskatchewan, 6-foot-10 Marc Van Burck of Regina's Luther was a provincial team member and a sure Div.1 prospect. Yorkton's Chris Heshka is 6-foot-5 and a solid athlete and Kai Williams, younger brother of Regina Cougar Jamal Williams, is another solid athlete coming out of "The Gap".

Watch for the game, April 8, to be on one of Canada's sports networks.

Fish lens

An additional post here today because one of my comments on my Canada post was from Sun photographer Christopher Pike. He's a young pup but he does real good work for us and I followed the trail of bread crumbs to his blog on here and I think people should see his work. This little punk (term used affectionately) is over in Turin shooting the Olympics and I'm jealous. But he's provided some really good art from there.

So, have a look here.

Seeing Red

Let's be honest about this right now, I have nothing to post here today. Except this ...

Last night, in my late-night slumber, I had a dream I was in Nebraska. I was at Memorial Stadium although it appeared we were there for a basketball game. Still, I heard the music of the Tunnel Walk and ... well that's the dream. Lame, I know.

Anyway, I slip on by huskers.com every so often and, out of nowhere, baseball season has started in the NCAA. Yikes.

I'm sitting up here cupping my pint glass with wool mittens in -30 C weather and Joba Chamberlain and the rest of the boys in red are playing pepper games and gnawing on Big League Chew. I know I've been there twice before, but where in the hell is Nebraska? Ball season? Really?

Joba is pronounced Jaw-buh, by the way, and the righty hurler is part of the Winnebago Tribe of Nebraska. I have nothing to say here except to mention I'm fully on board with this.

Anyway, it's a good feeling, you know, to know that there is some baseball going on and that somewhere on this continent snow and ice is replaced with grass and redsand. Don't get me wrong, I love my winter wonderland that is southern Manitoba — makes you appreciate the spring when it comes — but I certainly wouldn't be against trading my mittens in for shortpants and shades, a Kahlua and hot chocolate for a sweating bottle of Fort Garry Dark.

So kudos to the Big Red, they are once again a formidable foe for all comers who wish to challenge the juggernaut clad in scarlet. And, with all hopes, the No.7-ranked Huskers will be back in Omaha come June to take a run at the CWS.

---

Another note regarding the land of Lincoln, Neb.
The Powerball winner in this week's draw came in the form of eight meat-packing plant workers. Don't be surprised if Memorial Stadium has a new shine to its luxury boxes or a makeover to one of its facades in the coming months. Tickets are tough to come by but if some lottery winner who has spent his or her life dealing in Holsteins were to offer a friendly donation, I'm sure a couple of seats could be found.

That said, this story trumps it all.

No, Canada

The hypocrisy is unbelievable to me. Although, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by the Canadian media's quickness to jump down the collective throat of the men's Olympic hockey team.

We went through this in 1998. Nagano, Japan. A loss to the Czech Republic left the Canadians without a gold medal and everyone in this country lambasting Hockey Canada, fretting about the future of the sport in our country and going so far as to suggest that the sport needed an overhaul from the youngest levels. How else would we ever compete with the rest of the world, after all, if we didn't start from the ground up and improve this old jalopy?

Then, 2002 happened. The psyche of the Canadian hockey fan was repaired by an inspirational and glorious run to gold that ended with the perfect storm, a chance to beat the U.S. in the gold-medal game on American soil. We were back on top, Wayne Gretzky was deified for his part in putting together the championship team and Hockey Canada was lauded for (suddenly) being the brilliant minds of the international hockey world.

Now, here we are in 2006, the Canadians have suffered a devastating quarter-final loss to Russia on Wednesday that eliminated them from a tournament they had been favoured to win. And, right on cue, the national media, the talking heads all over television have jumped on board to once again pose the question no one should be asking.

"Why?"

If we are to be truthful with ourselves, just as we're not as bad as everyone thinks here in 2006, we weren't as good as everyone thought in 2002. Differences? Yes. Night and day? No. Different circumstances, different players, different performances, but still the same old Canada: Good enough to beat anyone on any given day, competing with teams capable of the same.

Lance Brown, on CTV Newsnet, (I have no idea what his credentials as a hockey analyst are seeing as how I have never seen him anywhere near a hockey broadcast), did his best to speak for Canadians and suggested that Hockey Canada needs to better address the preparation of these players prior to coming to the tournament.

He says, and I paraphrase, these players have very little time together, the NHL season goes right up to the Olympics, they're put on a plane and then expected to jell, and we just can't have that and hope to be competitive.

Now, Lance's comments would not be without merit if it weren't for the oh-so-slight oversight that this is in fact what every team in this tournament was forced to do. Canada isn't the only team in the Oly tournament that had NHL players. Seems to me Russia has handled this adversity quite well. Sweden also. And Finland? No worries for them. In fact, you could argue that Canada has it even better than the overseas teams because they can at least get on the ice together prior to the NHL season starting. But pardon me, I'm nit-picking.

Lance also goes on to point out — when asked what he would have done (because that's what we're all thinking) — that the defence wasn't very good. The defence, along with goaltender Martin Brodeur of course, that gave up six goals in three games. Let's be frank, shall we? If you are holding teams to two goals per contest, you will have a chance to win a lot of games. Let's not suggest that our defensive core let us down, because nothing could be further from the truth.

What is accurate is the Canadians scored three goals in their final three games and went scoreless in 10 of their last 11 periods of hockey. They never clicked, they never seemed invincible and, in fact quite the opposite, they looked utterly beatable at every turn.

Lance also was so kind to point out that — news flash everyone — playing Olympic hockey and NHL hockey is quite different. When you put on that maple leaf, blah blah blah ... Insinuating in no uncertain terms that the Canadian players just never got that "umph" from wearing the red and white, while other teams did.

Baloney. Never suggest an athlete "didn't get it" or didn't compete with a fervour to win especially when they are doing it for their country and especially when that country is Canada where you could stand to be be-headed if you don't score a couple goals and register a plus in the plus-minus rating. It is an ignorant stance to ever say "they just didn't want it," and it's one that is most often taken up by the people on the sidelines. The ones who talk about the games, rather than competing in them.

And what is more accurate — just as it was in 1998 and 2002 — is the other countries are pretty damn good. (Well, except for the U.S. this year, they were gawd-awful and if any nation needs to analyse its position in hockey, it is the Americans. But I digress).

Why is it we have such a hard time computing this? Has Sweden, Finland, Russia, the Slovaks, the Czechs et. al. suddenly snuck up on us? Were we not aware that there is a tonne of good hockey teams and hockey players throughout the frozen world?

What's more, can we not simply accept — like any team from any sport playing in any tournament — we just didn't bring our A-game this time around? You hear constantly players saying we just didn't get it done during NHL games, NBA playoffs, the World Series, heck, even the World Poker Tour I would wager, yet our loss here somehow equates to a massive failure on all levels of the Canadian hockey heirarchy?

However, a setback on the sports' greatest stage will invariably bring all the so-called experts back to the fore to once again, quite self-righteously, proclaim all that is wrong with hockey in Canada and the people who are involved with it. We are far from reasonable when it comes to our hockey.

In Canada we have an expecation that we are the best in the world at hockey and, y'know what, we basically are. Calgary's loss to the Tampa Bay Lightning in the 2004-05 Stanley Cup was portrayed by some as the U.S. beating Canada for our country's holy grail of trophies. Suggested, of course, by some who didn't apparently look at the nationalities on the rosters of both teams. The success of our nation in the sport is not determined by one result every four years. It is determined more by the thousands of quality players we continually churn out, the consistent success of all teams that wear our maple leaf on the chest (juniors, under-17s, Spenglers, worlds) and — please don't forget — the astonishing success of our women's program.

Ah, the women's team. How quickly we gloss over the 46-2 goals for/against they put up en route to another gold and, more importantly, what that team's success has done for the sport for girls within our borders in the past 15 years.

There should be no second-guessing, there should be no riot acts read and there should be no suggesting that suddenly we've slipped from our perch. Truth be told, it's always been a precarious loft we've sat on at the top of the hockey world and, realistically, we've rarely been there by ourselves.

The fact remains that, despite a disappointing showing in Turin, anyone who chooses to look way up at the top of this hockey tree, will find there will always be plenty of maple leaves.

#99 — Levon Kirkland

Levon Kirkland, for no particular reason, rounds out the Five Jerseys in Five Days Tour. Kirkland, who left the Steelers in 2000, wound down his career — perhaps in this case ironically — rather unceremoniously in Seattle. Kirkland was a long-serving linebacker who was an absolute terror defending the run. He was the perfect mould LB that the Steelers have so long been known for and I liked him.

My brother told me he lost respect for Kirkland because he had heard he had said he didn't want to be in Pittsburgh anymore, but I never heard that, found any information to confirm that he had ill feelings towards the Steelers or his time there. I bought Kirkland's jersey for 20 bucks after he had left Pittsburgh mostly because I'm a sucker for a jersey and I didn't care, 20 bucks is 20 bucks, so that was a lock.

What I like about the Kirkland, and the Woodson one as well, is that it still reminds me of the old Steelers jersey without the italicized numbers and it reminds me of old Three Rivers Stadium, which represents one of my sporting regrets: That I never got to watch a game in that relic. My introduction to being a Steelers fan came when they were still playing in Three Rivers and I loved the requisite announcer comment, when coming back from a commercial and seeing the overhead view of the stadium:

"Back at Three Rivers Stadium located at the confluence of the Ohio, Allegheny and Monongahela rivers."



(Don't underestimate how much geography you learn from sports, by the way.)

So now, it's time to look ahead to next year ... and what other Steelers jerseys I should get.

In no particular order, here's what you can consider buying me, just for the heck of it.

Heath Miller
Joey Porter
James Farrior
Troy Polamalu or even his AFC Pro Bowl look.

That's it for now folks. Spring game for Nebraska is just around the corner and the NFL combine is next week in Indy. I'm sure I'll have more to talk about on those topics.

All I can say is I really look forward to bring you the Five Jerseys in Five Days Tour again next year right around this time.

#26 — Rod Woodson

One of my favourite all-time Steelers, I always loved how tough Woodson was and, at his peak, how ridiculously unbeatable he could be. Lightning quick, a total burner if he got in the open field, and a blanket in coverage, Woodson was likely my favourite Steeler in the early-90s and the first Steeler jersey I ever owned.

Side note: Woodson also wanted to watch his ACL reconstruction surgery in 1996 (I believe that was the year). That's a tough SOB.

Now, like Woodson, my jersey has past its prime. Although Woodson is holding up much better in retirement I would presume than my jersey is. The number is peeling, the letters are worn and let's just say it was a good fit for 1994 Dave, not so much 2006 Dave.

Woodson works the NFL Network and was field-level to interview a number of the Steelers after the Super Bowl win on Sunday and, maybe I'm just a crazy optimist, but it felt like Woodson was happy to see his former team — the team he really belongs to — finally win that one for the thumb. He had a chance in 1995, but I was glad he was on site to at least be some part of the festivities.

My Woodson jersey hasn't been retired yet, but it probably should be. I might let the ol' guy go out in style now (I mean, I have five jerseys after all) and frame him up for the wall. I'll let you know of the retirement ceremony. We can celebrate with Primanti sandwiches and a six-pack of Rolling Rock and finish it all off with feats of strength in the honour of a guy who wanted to see his knee gutted and scoped.