Vacation

RetiredLawyerSportsOp will be on a much needed vacation for the next two weeks. The blog will resume on the week of May 8th.

New York Jets Invites

     On April 18, 2017, I had the distinct pleasure of attending a function at the New York Jets headquarters within the Atlantic Training And Rehabilitation Center in Florham Park, New Jersey. It was a nice experience and I am glad I went. It does not change my opinion of the product on the field, largely because we did not interact with the Jets' players.

     How did I get selected to attend this limited seating event? While the team representatives said the invitation to this Fan Advisory Board event was by random selection, I did not really believe that. Looking at those who were in attendance and listening to them speak, I knew I was with educated, knowledgeable individuals  who were long-suffering Jets fans.

      Actually, I think my invitation to this meeting, which included a very nice dinner, was based upon events which occurred at the start of the 2016 season. I called the Jets to inquire what they do for season ticket milestones. This was, after all, my 40th year with the Jets, having started my association with the team in 1977 at Shea Stadium. With no Super Bowl appearances and no home AFC Championship games. I was starting to feel like Chicago Cubs' fans who were accustomed to losing teams--something which would change dramatically later that Fall for those Windy City diehards.

     The sales rep listened patiently and said she would get back to me. She did inquire what I thought would be some activities which would be suitable for someone like me, a season ticket holder who had not really asked for much from the team but who was loyally rooting for the chance to support a winner. My thoughts went to a lunch or dinner with team officials to discuss the organization's treatment of its fan base, what could be improved and of course, the quality of the on the field product. The answer I received in a subsequent phone call was that the Jets don't do much for season ticket milestones and they were conducting internal talks about involving the fans a bit more. She did ask me if I wanted to be the first to sound the Jets siren as the team entered the playing field at Met Life Stadium. I politely declined.

       What I did subsequently receive was a surprise. The Jets sent me a regulation football, with a side painted white, and an autographed message to me from Head Coach Todd Bowles congratulating me on my 40th season as a Jets' season ticket holder. That ball sits prominently in a beautiful (and expensive) plastic case on a shelf in my den, a constant reminder of my loyalty to the New York Jets, especially when I watched the games during an underwhelming 2016 season which ended with the 6th worst record in the National Football League. It was a beautiful gesture by the team.

     Fast forward to March, 2017. I had already renewed my tickets for the upcoming season. All I was waiting for was the release of the schedule for this year plus the Jets' selection in this year's draft (to be held this week, outdoors, on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art--those same steps immortalized by Rocky Balboa/Sylvester Stallone--overlooking the city).

     Out of the blue came an email asking me to come to the Fan Advisory Board event on April 18th. I quickly responded with my acceptance, as my son and wife had plans in New York that evening. It was, if nothing more, a free dinner from the Jets.

     I traveled to the Jets' Florham Park grounds, the site of a former Exxon research facility across from Fairleigh Dickinson University's Florham campus. At first, the security guard at the gate house did not know what to do with the cars that were arriving 20 minutes early for the 5:30 start. Once informed via walkie-talkie that it was okay to admit us, those of us in queue were told to go to the parking lot in front of the entrance to the building and wait in our cars until near 5:20. I did exactly that, and when I emerged from my vehicle, another security guard nearby inquired if I was told to stay in my car until 5:30. I advised him what his colleague had said and I was permitted to head towards the entrance. I was feeling a little less welcome than I figured I would be.

     At the entrance to the massive building which includes an indoor practice field which is of regulation length and width as well has a roof high enough to permit punters to practice without hindrance when they skied a punt, many others bean to congregate. The group. predominantly white males at least 50 years of age, were well-dressed in suits or sports jackets, as the dress was described as business casual (I opted for a light green dress shirt and grey pants, the green an homage to the Jets' green and white colors).

     The chatter outside of the building was naturally about the Jets. How bad they were. How the devalued the seat licenses that many of those ticket holders had purchased to obtain better seats in the lower two-thirds of Met Life Stadium, a new, gray-themed, shared venue for the Jets with the New York Giants, built adjacent to the former stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey, Giants Stadium. The Jets became a co-tenant at Giants Stadium in 1984 after not renewing its less-than-favorable lease at Shea Stadium, predominantly built to satisfy the New York Mets ownership.

     The fans did not want a new stadium. Most felt that, despite its age, Giants Stadium did not require replacement. Jets' management had envisioned a new stadium, constructed over the rail yards on the West Side of Manhattan. This building would have had a retractable roof, and the seat licenses would have been much more valuable for those buyers; seat licenses in a shared venue are worth very little other that the ability to pay for seats that are not in the upper deck. For this venue, I would have strongly considered the investment.

     Sadly, the New York stadium never came to fruition, a combination of resident opposition to the traffic it would create, along with the opposition of the then-most powerful man in the New York legislature, Assembly Speaker, Sheldon Silver. I felt that he was in politics for something more and the death of the stadium project through his unwillingness to commit enough state money to the project was due to his not getting enough of whatever he wanted in return. Silver sits in prison now, the result of a Federal corruption conviction. It would have been nice to take the train to Penn Station, walk the 8-9 blocks to Jets Stadium, and not have to wear thermal underwear and heating pads to endure the weather in December and January. Sheldon Silver always will have a prized place in my heart.

     So, when we attendees were permitted to enter the Jets' gleaming practice site, the group had much to say to those from management who came to greet us during a very nice dinner of penne pasta, beef tenderloin, chicken piccata and salad. While we were eating, the first Jets' dignitary entered our room--Coach Bowles. A former player, he was no small man; he dwarfed my 5'5' frame.

     I had the opportunity to talk with Coach Bowles, an Elizabeth, NJ native. Since I was a Public Defender in that city for over 22 years, I knew it well, and I had interacted with his former football coach, who doubles as the Vice Principal or disciplinarian at Elizabeth High. That made Coach Bowles smile. We also discussed the projects--where he grew up--a notorious, crime-ridden place where this suburban Jewish short guy felt way out of place when I had to visit the scene of a crime at that locale. I liked my talk with the soft-spoken and humble Coach Bowles, who gladly posed for a picture with me before he floated around the room to meet the others.

     I also met Team President Neil Glat, who, with team owner, Woody Johnson (of the Johnson & Johnson money), had returned from the Pittsburgh funeral of the Steelers' owner, Dan Rooney, son of league patriarch Art Rooney. Rooney was so powerful in Pittsburgh as well as beloved. Glatt reported that former President Obama attended the service. Nice name dropping.

     I did not have the chance to meet with General Manager Mike Maccagnan. Others monopolized his time, discussing the Jets' past and future. Maccagnan looked studious and formidable. He, along with Coach Bowles, represent the opportunity for the franchise to escape mediocrity and to contend for the Super Bowl. I was impressed by their poise and willingness to talk to the fans. Obviously, I am rooting for the Jets to become winners. I now have an idea who the movers and shakers are in the organization, and I liked them. I will be hoping that they can resurrect the team mainly because they appeared  to be decent men.

     I did get to share my table with other Season Ticket holders from Westchester County, along with two very nice and informative young representatives for the Jets. So nice that, in fact, one offered me the chance to return and have lunch and watch a practice.

     After dinner, we left for a well-appointed video room that the team uses on a daily basis. We met with those individuals who run the game day operations at Met Life Stadium.  A lively give and take ensued, discussing things like the loud, droning music played constantly at the games, the quality and content of the optics on the video screens inside the arena, the true lack of Jets colors inside the bowl, plus the need for "organic" chanting of the franchises' signature cheer--J-E-T-S, JETS, JETS, JETS!! The personnel on the dais were very receptive to many of the suggestions. I did not feel as if they were merely giving us lip service.

    A tour of the building was the finale. This facility cost millions of dollars to erect and to operate. It is nicely appointed--there are pictures of fans taken in 2009 at Met Life Stadium lining the walls, along with memorabilia from Jets" teams, including uniforms and awards and the team's one Super Bowl trophy prominently displayed near the lobby. There are off-limits team dining areas; an enormous weight room; training and physical therapy areas; offices and the aforementioned practice field which we were able to walk on its artificial turf. The entrance to the practice area narrows to the door, partially replicating the tunnel at Met Life Stadium.

     Our knowledgeable tour guide gave us incites and information--for instance, the Jets have nutritionists who provide the diets for the players, who eat most of their meals there. However, since they are not allowed any sugary desserts, it is commonplace for those craving sugar to meander up to the employees' dining area and leave with some cake or other delights. Just hungry big boys being hungry big boys it seems. Also, we ascended to a large balcony overlooking the indoor practice area (there are other outdoor fields with lights); this was Mr. Johnson's private viewing area, that he shared with the press on occasion. The perks of ownership and wealth are many.

     The tour ended and we were rewarded with green Jets Season Ticket Holder water bottles as souvenirs. It was impressive and educational. I had fun and it stoked my juices for a productive season, even if logically I have prepared myself for more ineptitude. I went home with a positive mindset.

     I am looking forward to that lunch and practice. Thanks, New York Jets, for making me feel that while I opted not to sit downstairs and pay for a seat license, that my two seats 9 rows up in Section 340 at the 31 yard line, as opposed to my former seats at Giants Stadium, 4 rows from the field at the 32 yard line behind the visiting team bench, are as worthy as any others in Met Life.

     For 3 plus hours, it was a bit of Jets fan ecstasy. Now please give me a winning team.

The NBA Playoffs--50 Years Ago

     I am not going to lie. As we get older, we may not remember things as well as we used to. Forgot what you ate last night? (it was Hoisin Flounder) or last Saturday (beef with mushrooms, Love Boat--which has chicken & scallops plus scallion toast, hot & sour soup & my wife had chicken noodle soup) or what I ate 2 Saturdays ago (I think it was pasta--see what I mean?). So I am not immune from this happening to me. Frequently.

     Yet there are seminal moments in one's life--especially in the younger years--which the memories are indelibly retained. Those experiences can be recalled in sharp detail, even in later years.

     Such is my recall of April 16, 1967. 50 years ago today. While today is the start of the 2016-17 NBA Playoffs, 50 years ago I was at Game 2 of the 1966-67 NBA Championships.

     The game was in Philadelphia, in the ancient Convention Hall just off of downtown. It pitted the Western Conference champs, the San Francisco Warriors (now the Golden State Warriors but once were the Philadelphia Warriors), against the Philadelphia '76ers (still playing in Philadelphia, although when the Warriors left for the West Coast, the Syracuse Nationals franchise was transplanted in Philadelphia). The Warriors, coached by Hall of Fame member Bill Sharman and led by future Hall of Famers Rick Barry, Nate Thurmond, plus the legendary Al Attles from Weequahic High School in Newark, along with an emerging guard, Jeff Mullins, faced the imposing Sixers in the best of 7 series.

     The Sixers had completed the season with a then best seasonal record 68-13 mark. Voted the greatest team in NBA history when the league celebrated its 35th anniversary, this group began the season with an amazing 46-4 start. Their names resonated with this young fan who watched many of the contests on ABC--Wilt "The Stilt" Chamberlain, the powerful 7-1 local prodigy from Overlook High School and the University of Kansas; rookie Billy "The Kangaroo Kid" Cunningham, who arrived from the University of North Carolina and could literally leap out of the building; steady guard Hal Greer, who shot his free throws in an unorthodox jump shot manner; Chet "The Jet" Walker from Bradley University, a forward who was shooter first, paired with Lucious Jackson out of Pan American who was dominant power forward due to his girth; and local college player, Wali Jones, at Villanova University and a crowd favorite due to his strange but effective jump shot. Even the reserves and rookies were familiar names to me--the rookies were Matt Guokas and Billy Melchionni from Big Five schools Villanova and St. Joseph's; balding Bobby Weiss, a guard who had played at Penn State; and veterans Dave Gambee and Larry Costello rounded out the team. Chamberlain, Cunningham, Greer and Walker are enshrined in the Hall of Fame. Costello won the NBA title as a head coach with the Milwaukee Bucks. Guokas was the first head coach of the Orlando Magic and coached the Sixers, transitioning into a career as a well-respected television analyst for many years. Weiss, too, was first an assistant coach and then a head coach for a number of teams, and he is now, at age 74, a valued assistant coach for the Charlotte Hornets. Melchionni was a 3-time American Basketball Association winner with the New York Nets and his number 25 jersey is retired, hanging in the rafters of the Barclay Center, the home of the Brooklyn Nets; he was lucky enough to play with two basketball immortals--Chamberlain and "Dr. J", Julius Erving (who ironically won a title with the Sixers). Even Dave Gambee had a 12 year NBA career. This was an illustrious team.

     To get to the Finals, the Sixers had to dethrone their nemesis and 8 time defending NBA champions, the Boston Celtics. Epic battles were commonplace when these two squads met, beginning at the center position where Chamberlain and fellow Hall of Famer Bill Russell clashed. Boston was coached by Russell, who succeeded the no nonsense Red Auerbach. Auerbach delighted in lighting up a cigar after a victory. The number of Celtics' Hall of Fame players actually outnumbered the Sixers' foursome of Chamberlain, Greer, Walker and Cunningham. Russell, John Havlicek, Wayne Embry, Don Nelson, Tom "Satch" Sanders, K.C. Jones, Sam Jones (no relation) and Bailey Howell all are in the Hall of Fame in some capacity. Sixers fans dleighted in finally beating the Celtics, chanting "Boston is dead."

     The Finals seemed to be almost anti-climactic. Philadelphia was expected to beat the Warriors--which they did in six games. But that did not matter to this 16 year old basketball fan.

     Some perspective here. I am 5'5" tall. Not exactly great size to play basketball. I could not jump very high. My shooting was erratic at best. Baseball was my best sport. But I loved basketball--to play or to watch it.

     I was the Head Manager for the Highland Park High School Owls boys team. I kept the scorebook and I tended to whatever the team needed. I became very close to Head Coach Bob Kertes, who recently passed away, and his assistant, Bob Tirone, who taught my 10th grade American History class. Thankfully, during the scholastic season, being Head Manager rescued me out from the dread of gym class. Within the athletic department, because I also did football statistics for Head Coach/Athletic Director Jay Dakelman, a wonderful man I knew from his summer camp at HPHS and a highly successful coach on the gridiron and with the track team, I actually had some status.

     Coach Kertes liked to reward people for their dedication to the program, akin to Coach Dakelman. In the course of my tenure as scorekeeper,  at the 4 person scorer's table, I sat next to Ward Smith, my 10th grad chemistry teacher. Mr. Smith, a bachelor, was a very, very nice man, but he had a nervousness in him that was evident in class and when he ran the scoreboard and clock. Many times during a game I would help Mr. Smith with operating the clock or putting up the correct score on the scoreboard.

     Highland Park's basketball season in 1967 had concluded in March during the NJSIAA playoffs. Earlier that season, we traveled to to the New Jersey Youth Correctional Facility in Annandale, New Jersey to play an exhibition game versus those young adults, mostly juveniles, housed there for acts of delinquency. I was permitted to play in that game, actually scoring 5 points in 2 periods. It wa a blast being part of the team for that contest. Until Coach Kertes played a mean prank on me.

     Since I was still a manager, he ordered me to carry the ball bag and some other equipment form our makeshift locker room to the guardhouse and then up the stairway to the team bus. Which I did.

     When the team entered the facility, the guards counted the number of people coming in--17. Correspondingly, they count the numbers leaving. When they reached 17, no more were permitted to leave the guard house. Coach Kertes had pre-arranged for the guards to count to 17 but not include me, at the rear of the line, as the last HPHS person leaving.

     There I was, stuck in the guard house, watching the team ascend the stairs, while being restrained from moving on. I started to plead my case, but the guards showed no sympathy or cared to really listen. I was told to shut up and sit down, that I could be prosecuted for escape. As you can imagine, I became increasingly unnerved and anxious. I had no idea what to do and I worriedly contemplated the actual possibility that I might be imprisoned there without a link to the outside world.

    For what seemed like an eternity, I sat, with the menacing guards closely monitoring me. Then, through the door came Coach Kertes. His first comment, ignoring me, was that he had left the ball bag and needed to retrieve it. The guards pointed to it next to me and said "There it is." One of the guards then told Coach Kertes that the ball bag came with other equipment, and he inquired if Coach Kertes wanted all of that equipment. He said yes, and he said "I'll take that one, too", referring to me. I bolted out the entrance to see the entire team at the top of the stairway, laughing hysterically.

     It is ironic that in my professional career with the New Jersey Public Defender's office, I represented juveniles, and my travels to meet clients took me back to Annandale. I entered and left without commotion, but I still was relieved to leave each time I visited.

     Although Coach Kertes never mentioned this episode again, he asked me on Thursday, April 14, if I would like to join Mr. Smith, Coach Kertes and another player for a ride to Philadelphia to see the Warriors and Sixers play. My parents said yes and I could not wait to go.

     While I had seen my first NBA game in 1960 when Wilt Chamberlain, then with the San Francisco Warriors, came to the old Madison Square Garden, located on 8th Avenue and 49th Street in Manhattan, where the Warriors soundly thrashed the woeful New York Knicks, a trip to the NBA Finals was incredible. I remember the ride down to Philadelphia in Mr. Smith's white Dodge, talking basketball and chemistry.

     This was a nationally televised, early afternoon game. The Sixers had won Game 1 and most pundits felt that Philadelphia could eliminate the Warriors in 4 or 5 games.

     I recollect entering the Philadelphia Convention Hall, located adjacent to the University of Pennsylvania and nearby Franklin Field, home to Penn and Philadelphia Eagles football and the Penn Relays track festival. Convention Hall looked bigger than on my black and white television screen. It seated about 11-12,000 for basketball, and had a huge stage at one end, which was used for concerts like The Beatles appearance in Philadelphia.

     Unlike the Garden and probably due somewhat to the fact that the NBA Finals were in Philadelphia after the Sixers bested the mighty Celtics, the bloodthirsty Philadelphia fans, well-known for their rabidness, were in full voice even during the pregame warmups. I remember that I had 2 hot dogs and a soda for lunch. Mr. Smith provided popcorn for the game. I also learned new words that day--angry, biting, negative ones.

     Public address announcer Dave Zinkoff, was in rare form. His enunciation for CHAMBer-lin, CUNNING-ham and the quick Greer sound was lyrical, even with his shrill whiny voice. When a Warriors player scored, his mention of the name was droll and somber. It was THREE FOR two when the foul limit was exceeded; . Wali Jones name was loudly musical yet almost sarcastic. Zinkoff was a real treat that day and every other time I saw the Sixers at the Spectrum, the new home they entered in autumn of 1967.

     What I can say about the game from our seats behind the basket was that Wilt was huge and dominant; Luke Jackson was hurt so that Billy Cunningham took over his spot in the lineup; and that Greer (30 pts), Cunningham (28), Walker (18) and Jones (16) had good games. Only Rick Barry could score for the Warriors (30). One of the highlights was watching two players shoot their free throws underhanded---Chamberlain and Barry. Wilt was a notoriously horrible foul shooter, while Barry was the top player in free throw percentage in the NBA. Barry actually missed a couple (10-12), while Wilt missed a whole lot more (2-17).

     I know that the game was a blowout. Subsequent research showed that the score was 126-95. Coach Sharman tried every which way to get the Warriors' offense going, to no avail. While the win put the them up 2-0, the series would end in six games, with the Sixers taking home the title.

     The car ride back to Middlesex County was euphoric. But after awhile, as the Dodge neared home, we tired of talking basketball and we were spent form the magnitude and the length of the day.

     Later in life, I have had the great fortune to see a World Series game, the Stanley Cup Finals, NHL and MLB All Star games among the myriad of other contests in the four major league sports. As good and unique as each one was, there was truly something special about the unexpected thrill to see the NBA Finals and to experience my first championship game. Once more, I say thanks to two great mentors and teachers, Bob Kertes and Ward Smith, for their generosity to this 16 year old kid who was wide-eyed and ecstatic being in Philadelphia on this day 50 years ago.

     While others may have similar stories related to long-ago sporting events, at least on this special date, I get to relive one of my life's unforgettable,great stories. I hope that you, as readers, get to experience something similar, 50 years after it actually happened.



     

The 2nd Week of April

                                                       The 2nd Week of April

     The weather seems to be changing --for the better. Minus the blip I saw in Pittsburgh this past Friday when the Atlanta Braves met the Pirates in the Bucs' home opener, replete with snow squalls and wind in upper 30 degree temperatures, it appears that baseball will now be played in more Spring-like conditions.

     The Yankees limp home to New York for their home opener minus at least 2 key starters, catcher Gary Sanchez and shortstop Didi Gregorius. Yet, even with the underachieving 2-4 record and Passover looming tonight, Yankee Stadium will be abuzz with a near capacity crowd cheering on its heroes.

     As much noise as will be generated in the Bronx this afternoon, it will be nothing compared to tonight in Chicago. The World Champion Chicago Cubs (that has to be repeated to be believed given the Cubs' historic World Series-winning drought) will unfurl the championship banner which will fly over Wrigley Field forever. This is so historic that ESPN has decided, along with Major League Baseball, that the game against the Los Angeles Dodgers merits a national TV audience.

     There will also be some significant fervor in Cleveland on Tuesday as the defending American League champion Indians begin their home schedule with the Chicago White Sox in town for a later afternoon start. The Indians are playing good baseball at the beginning of the 2017 campaign, a sign that they have suffered no ill effects from the oh-so-close loss to the Cubs in an epic game 7 of the 2016 World Series.

     Other than the 6-1 record the Arizona Diamondbacks and the 5-1 start the Minnesota Twins sport at this early point in the season, there are few surprises going into week 2 of the 7 months baseball needs to complete 162 games per team. Yes, the opening week for the San Francisco Giants (2-5) and Seattle Mariners (1-6) could have been better, but one week is not necessarily determinative of how the remainder of the schedule will turn out. Once the hoopla of Opening Day (or Night) fades and the weather is much more Summer-like in August and into Labor Day we, as fans, will have a true barometer of how our teams will fare.

     So be happy in Philadelphia as the Phillies could actually score 12 runs at home against the Washington Nationals, a team that most experts believe will challenge the Cubs for National League supremacy. Your team has not yet become mediocre as in past seasons. Ditto in Tampa Bay, as the Rays have streaked out to a 5-2 record for a team picked to finish either 4th or 5th in the American League East. Do not despair in Toronto, for the Blue Jays are probably not as bad as the 1-6 record indicates. There is a whole lot of baseball to be played. After all, it is only the 2nd week of April.

     Correspondingly, the National Hockey League completed its 82 game regular season last night. The Stanley Cup playoffs begin on Wednesday night with 5 contests, followed by 3 more on Thursday. Eight First Round matchups which can go as long as 7 games, narrowing the tournament down to 4 teams in each conference. Somewhere in June we should have the Stanley Cup Finals series and a 2016-17 champ. Playoff beards traditionally grown by the players will be more gruff as their team goes deeper into the quest for the Cup.

      One of the three local teams, the New York Rangers, qualified to start playing towards the Cup. They open the first series in Montreal against the Canadiens. Not much is expected from either team. An interesting series involves the defending champion Pittsburgh Penguins with their star-studded lineup led by superstar Sidney Crosby, encountering a very good Columbus Blue Jackets team. Boston-Ottawa and Toronto--Washington complete the Eastern Conference series. With the latter series, it will be interesting to see how the Maple Leafs do against the Capitals. Will new star Auston Matthews lead the upstart Leafs to an upset against all-World Alexander Ovechkin and the Caps, who have historically "choked" come playoff time?

     The Western Conference series are very competitive. Calgary-Anaheim, St. Louis-Minnesota, Nashville-Chicago and San Jose-Edmonton could go either way, as all teams are truly capable of  making the second round. Of note, the NHL scoring leader came from the Edmonton Oilers, with Connor McDavid being the only player this season to garner over 100 points. McDavid is the third youngest player to reach the 100 point plateau, joining Crosby and the incomparable Wayne Gretzky. Thus the story line in the West is whether McDavid can lead the Oilers to the Cup like Gretzky, his famed predecessor.

     Not to be forgotten is that the National Basketball Association is in its final week of the 84 game marathon. All 8 teams in the Western Conference are set--other than the Utah Jazz and the Los Angeles Clippers determining who gets to host more games in the first round, there is very little excitement, and teams will be resting players before the playoffs begin.

     It is another world in the Eastern Conference. Drama lives on here. Three teams are competing for the final two spots in the East--the Indiana Pacers (40-40), the Chicago Bulls (39-41) and the Miami Heat (39-41). The top spot in the Conference, and the home court advantage in the East is up for grabs between LeBron James' fading and perplexing Cleveland Cavaliers and the Boston Celtics led by Isaiah Thomas and coached by the youthful Brad Stevens. The Cavs lost two games to the Atlanta Hawks this weekend, blowing a 26 point lead on Sunday and losing in overtime. Even if the Cavs do win the top spot in the East, the way they are playing will guarantee nothing in whatever first round matchup they draw.

     Let us not forget that the Masters golf tournament at the picturesque Augusta National Golf Club concluded with a one hole playoff  Sunday, won by Spaniard Sergio Garcia, a very, very good golfer whose quest for his first major title is now over. The Masters is always a rite of the first week of Spring, and those beautiful, blooming dogwoods are telling us that better weather has already reached Georgia.

     With the weather indeed changing--it will be in the upper 70's today in New Jersey--the three active major sports will be alive and thriving. As they always do at this time of the year.

     What more could a sports fan ask for this morning when scouring the sports pages or read blogs or watch Sports Center on ESPN--pro football?

Spring Confluence

   



                                                                   Spring Confluence

     It is April 3rd. Tonight is the night of the NCAA Men's National Championship. Earlier today, most Major League Baseball teams began their seasons--with the notable exception of the Yankees among 5 other teams, who lost to Tampa Bay yesterday. Yes, it is Spring--MLB baseball games now count. .

     Spring has plenty of meaning. This is a time of change--when the weather begins to shed winter and lead up to the warmth of summer. Flowers bloom, rain falls instead of snow. People come out of winter jackets and end their hibernation. Winter sports say good bye at the collegiate levels; the professionals have found a way to extend their playoffs into June and sometimes beyond the beginning of Summer. Spring college sports have already started in earnest as they head towards their playoffs at the close of the academic year. High school spring seasons have also commenced in New Jersey.

     Last week major college basketball said sayonara on a number of levels--the College Insider Tournament was won by St. Peter's University from Jersey City with a victory on the road at Texas-Corpus Christi. T.C.U. won the National Invitational Tournament over Georgia Tech at Madison Square Garden. On the women's side, yesterday, South Carolina defeated Mississippi State for the NCAA Women's crown; Mississippi State had somehow overcome the invincibility of the UConn Huskies, ending the record win streak at 111 victories by securing an improbable overtime win after losing the UConn by 60 points last season. Michigan won the Women's N.I.T.

     College hockey still has to determine a champion. The Frozen Four is ahead starting this Thursday in Chicago with Minnesota-Duluth playing the Harvard Crimson and top seed Denver meeting Notre Dame. The Final is set for April 8. Then Winter Sports will be finished. At last.

     So until we get through Saturday, the overlap between seasons is really a misnomer as far as the colleges go. College baseball and softball began in February--some teams have played 15-25 games. College lacrosse squads have almost played half of their schedules, many times in frigid weather in February and March. Baseball, softball and lacrosse also have sojourned to the warmer South, the Southwest or California to play. Tennis teams at least played indoors for those months, if they hadn't joined the other sports in vacating the cold weather.

     As far as I am concerned, there are too many baseball games in a season, largely a result of playing away from home in the midst of the winter. The NCAA Division I Baseball Championships in Omaha, Nebraska occurs way after school has let out--as the playoffs start in late May or early June. The other Divisions are not immune from this. Even lacrosse championships are held during Memorial Day weekend.

     Then again, isn't MARCH Madness ending tonight--in April.  Gonzaga comes into the game at 37-1 while North Carolina resides at 32-7. That amounts to nearly a half of an NBA season--and tonight in Oakland the Golden State Warriors and Washington Wizards are contesting their 77th game, with 5 more games left on their schedules. The pros don't have to attend classes; most of the college basketball players do...and had to take final exams in December. They play in three of the four seasons--Fall, Winter and Spring. Too much travel and too many games. The same applies to the Spring sports players, who can vie in Winter, Spring and Summer. A myriad of games happen before Daylight Savings Time starts.

     But as a fan, I get to experience the best of all worlds in my retirement. The weather is increasingly better, so I can now walk outside in less than a parka. And watch college basketball wind down tonight, and hockey later this week. Sandwiched between Yankees-Rays telecasts on Sunday and Tuesday, and the Mets opener at Citi Field versus Atlanta.  Plus a bevy of other MLB telecasts on ESPN for good measure.

     I like this particular time of the year when the collegiate Winter ends and the professional Spring commences. Better than when college football concludes in January and pro football in February. That's right--February--about half of Winter has been consumed.

     At least the MLB playoffs and World Series are still in the Fall--the first week of November is not exactly baseball weather up North yet it is still in Autumn. Then again the NBA and NHL seasons are underway and college and pro football have or are nearly reaching the halfway points in their respective seasons. Thankfully baseball does not run beyond the onset of Standard Time. Close, but not yet beyond it.

     I think I have been way too analytical. The Tar Heels and the Bulldogs, both number 1 seeds, are at the ready, making this just the 8th time in NCAA history number 1 seeds have met in the Championship round. Two schools, one a highly-regarded public institution of over 30,000 students located in Chapel Hill, North Carolina with a blue blood basketball pedigree seeking its 6th title in 11 tries, is taking on a worthy challenger from Spokane, Washington, a Jesuit Catholic liberal arts university with a total enrollment of 7,500 making its first ever championship game in any sport. The head coaches are friends, the result of a joint coaching staff trip to a Mississippi casino in 2009 prior to UNC beating the Bulldogs. Carolina is the top rebounding team in the nation. Gonzaga is number 2 in field goal defense. Both scored 77 points in winning semi-final matches on Saturday. Two schools. 2537 miles apart. Two coaches with the highest winning percentage among active coaches. Both from small towns in their school's state. Ramses the Ram versus Spike the Bulldog. All in the University of Phoenix Stadium in suburban Glendale. Deciding who really is the best team in the land. Such drama.

     For this evening I can let Winter fade out 13 days into Spring. Hours before that, 13 days into Spring, I can watch the Mets. Tomorrow I can focus completely on baseball. While watching my daffodils open and my grass grow greener. And wait until November when we can do this all over again.