I Also Heard Baseball Is Back

This is one of my favorite times of the year. It is tournament time. Every college team has played in one, at all levels of NCAA Divisions, except maybe one or two teams which are ineligible for whatever reason. 

I fell in love with the concept of tournaments in my youth. I can recall the great teams of Cincinnati led by the Big O—the one and only Oscar Robinson. Or West Virginia, who had this phenom guard named Jerry West; I wonder what happened to “ Zeke from Cabin Creek?”

(A footnote here—Adam Clayton Powell, Sr. was also from that small hamlet) Then there was Ohio State, with two stars who are in the Hall of Fame: Jerry Lucas and John Havlicek. And UCLA, coached by the legendary John Wooden, a.k.a. “The Wizard of Westwood.”

I knew that the Southern Conference was the originator of the post-season college tournament. I have learned that the University of North Carolina beat Mercer, a non-conference foe in the first tournament. 

The only other post-season conference event was the Atlantic Coast Conference tournament, the brainchild of Everett Case, the coach at North Carolina State, who saw a way to make money. The games were conveniently held in Raleigh for the early years, giving the Wolf Pack a home court advantage. The ten part series on ESPN aptly named “The Tournament” just finished its run on Monday. It is a must-see for the basketball junkie who also loves the anecdotal historical information within the programs. 

The ACC was where I learned about “Thacker and Packer.” Jim Thacker was the announcer and Billy Packer, a former star at Wake Forest, provided the color commentary. Their telecasts, produced by TV entrepreneur C.D. Chesley, led to the emergence of college basketball on TV, both regionally and nationally. 

Of course, there was the NCAA Tournament. Taking only conference champions at that time, it was small and limited in scope. I can recall some of those games involving Cincinnati and Ohio State in the early 1960’s; I had heard about the great Bill Russell and his San Francisco Dons, winners in the mid-50’s. Of course, there was Jerry Harkness and Loyola of Chicago in 1963. Unforgettably, there was UTEP in 1966, with its black players, downing the great white Kentucky team of Adolph Rupp. Plus being a historian, I knew of previous winners such as Kentucky, North Carolina, which downed Wilt Chamberlain and Kansas in 1957; Indiana; Oklahoma State coached by Henry Iba, idolized by so many coaches including Bob Knight. California and Stanford both won the title; so had Wisconsin, Utah, Wyoming, Holy Cross and La Salle. 

But the NCAA Tournament was considered inferior to the National Invitation Tournament. Held in New York at Madison Square Garden, that was the premier post-season tournament when I was growing up. I thought, from watching the games on TV, that it was an affair for Bradley, Dayton, St. John’s, Providence, Villanova and NYU, as those colleges repeatedly were in the field or the finals. 

I knew the history of CCNY, the only team to win both the NCAA and NIT crowns in the same year, which was 1950. I also knew that Seton Hall won the NIT in 1953, behind the efforts of the giant center, Walter Dukes. 

Which leads me to the upcoming week. It will be 55 years since Rutgers, with stalwarts Bobby Lloyd and Jim Valvano, caught the conscience of Central New Jersey and the NY Metropolitan area with its run to a third place victory over Marshall at the Garden. My friends and I listened intently to the broadcasts on WCTC 1450. 

Upset wins over Utah State and New Mexico thrust the Scarlet Knights into a semi-final matchup against Southern Illinois, the NCAA Division II champion; the NIT was so powerful then that it could invite anyone it wanted. The Salukis, led by a player who would become an icon in New York, Walt Frazier, downed RU 67-60 in a very close affair. 

Thinking RU might prevail versus SIU, but aware that even if they lost, Lloyd and Valvano would have one final game in their careers, I went to the RU box office and scored student tickets in the balcony of the old Garden on 8th Avenue at 49th Street. The price was $2.50 per seat. 

Rutgers downed the Thundering Herd and the Salukis beat Marquette for the title. It was bitter cold as we huddled outside of the Garden, waiting for the doors to open. I recall it was 12 degrees on the morning of March 18th; I checked and saw that the high and low for the date was 20 and 10. Freezing as I was, I was hooked for life when I entered the Garden. 

Which is why I am so invested in college basketball and the tournaments. I went back for two more NIT games when RU was in it. I have been to the Big East Tournament at MSG multiple times, with Seton Hall fans and rooting for Rutgers. I have been to NCAA Tournament games at the Division III level, having seen F&M in Lancaster, Wayne, New Jersey and in the Final Four in Salem, Virginia. 

And have I ever watched the post-season on television. All those winning UCLA teams. Larry Bird and Magic Johnson meeting for the first time in 1979 when Bird’s Indiana State Sycamores took on Magic’s Michigan State Spartans. Duke became a regular, beginning with the heroics of Christian Laettner. UNC is almost always there, with Michael Jordan, from 1981-84, informing the world he had arrived. 

Name a game and I have probably watched it or know of it. I was reminded this week of Kemba Walker taking UConn through 5 memorable wins in the Big East Tournament, then 6 more in the NCAA’s, culminating in a National Championship for Coach Jim Calhoun’s squad in 2011. Unheard of stuff. 

Sadly, the NIT was taken over by the NCAA and relegated to secondary status. It isn’t even played at the Garden anymore, lately having been contested in that basketball hotbed, Frisco, Texas. Yet to those schools that make the finals, going for a championship is still a big deal. 

Which is why, for those teams on the bubble for this year’s NCAA, the NIT could still be the salvation of a season and a nice trophy to display in the arena along with a big banner. Regular season MAAC champion Iona is likely headed to the NIT, as they lost in the early rounds of their conference shindig.  

Rutgers is still one of those teams whose fate will be up to the NCAA Selection Committee, already ensconced in hotel rooms in Kansas City, armed with tons of data, still based on metrics which favor the power conferences, to interpret. Conference tournament games still have to be played. Texas A&M, TCU, Michigan, Indiana, Memphis, BYU, San Francisco, Miami, Florida, Xavier and SMU all have to worry about their status—so stay tuned to the Selection Show on March 13. 

Once the Big Dance partners are announced, March Madness will be in full swing, after having this awesome first act. There are four schools which have never sent a team to the NCAA Division I Tournament: Army, The Citadel, St. Francis, Brooklyn and William & Mary. And it looks like they aren’t going this year. Dartmouth has not been back since 1959, the longest current streak of non-appearance other than the four I mentioned. 

Conversely, blue blood Kansas looks to extend its streak of 31 consecutive appearances. Michigan State, with 23 straight visits and Gonzaga, with 22 years running, follow the Jayhawks, and will continue their streaks. Exciting stuff. Count me as glued to the set. 

Oh, I also heard that baseball is back. 

I Am Grumpy

I sure am grumpy. Perhaps it’s the 6 vials of blood drawn from me on Thursday morning before 7:30. After a while, the technician had to push my forearm to fill the last big container and then the two smaller bottles. At least I exceeded expectations with my urine sample. 

I know I am not happy about the Russian invasion of Ukraine. I find myself a prisoner of news transmitted from CNN on my cell phone and then when I watch local news on WCBS or national news reported by Lester Holt on NBC. What is happening is almost unthinkable and it is going to get a lot worse. Any mention of nuclear weapons harkens me back to our grammar school hide-under-the desk drills during the Cuban Missile Crisis. 

Maybe it’s the inordinate amount of stuff I am doing at home to pare down the place in anticipation of completing the second phase of our makeover. It takes a ton of planning and manpower to complete the plethora of tasks before the project is over. 

Possibly it is the movement away from pandemic precautions. While the transmission rates and hospitalizations are down dramatically, I am still seeing over 1,000 daily hospitalizations in New Jersey. Applying my crude math, that is between 30-45,000 new cases per month. In this phase, it is at least 500,000 cases per year. Just in the Garden State. 

Yet the move is to open up the country to reflect how we have conquered COVID. Politicians berate children about wearing masks while some reports have state that the vaccine does not effectively protect younger children. The NFL and NFLPA have relaxed their protocols going forward. Yet the Phoenix Suns lost star player Devin Booker to COVID protocols as the NBA stretch run is in earnest. 

Without a defined plan as to how to protect the country going forward if another strain infects us like did like Omicron did in December and January, are we fooling ourselves? Making mask wearing offensive is not necessarily the right message to everyone, including athletes. 

I happen to be hypersensitive about this subject because I had a pretty rough experience with the disease just under two months ago. I am hardly convinced that we have the right mindset or even the tools ready to deal with another wave. 

I have been tempted to go to games again. I would like to go to Madison Square Garden to see the Devils and Rangers there on Sunday night—if I can get by the ridiculous prices the tickets are going for in the upper levels. At least there, there remains a proof of vaccination requirement. 

I found it both hysterical and stupid to see the outrage over New York City’s mayor  to changing the rules regarding vaccines so that Kyrie Irving can play with the hometown Brooklyn Nets.  Yes, Kevin Durant is finally healed after being out for 23 games due to a MCL sprain. Sure, fans would love to see the Nets become instant title contenders like the Sixers became when James Harden joined Joel Embiid in Philadelphia. At least in the City of Brotherly Love the mayor didn’t have to think about altering the rules to accommodate the fans and critics. 

Rutgers sure has me fired up. I cannot watch them in the first half of games, digging holes that many times they cannot extricate themselves from. Wednesday night in Bloomington, Indiana was another one of those instances. 

RU battled back from 8 points down, holding the Hoosiers in check until the end. That’s when junior guard Paul Mulcahy, having a rough night and clearly frustrated by the physicality of the Indiana defense, lost his cool. He swung his arms at an opposing player on a play near the Rutgers bench, earning a Grade 2 offense and ejection. IU converted all their free throws and were able to sink a three point shot with just under 11 seconds left to tie the contest. 

It took a Ron Harper, Jr. clutch three point shot to put the Knights ahead for good. Harper then seated the inbounds throw, ending Indiana’s last gasp. Too gut-wrenching for me. 

Just as aggravating are the “bracketology” experts. These so-called experts still have RU looking in from the outside regarding the NCAA Tournament. This team has beaten every school above them in the Big Ten, plus Michigan and Indiana. With a win against Penn State on Sunday in what will surely be an emotional day for super senior Geo Baker, now deemed a must win for entry into the NCAA’s, RU will end with a 12-8 record in one of the three toughest conferences in America. 

What more will they have to do to prove how good the team is? Why are Quad 3/4 losses from the beginning of the season—to programs like UMass, De Paul and Lafayette—used against them when their resume from January on is demonstrably better than a lot of other schools? Will they have to win in the Big Ten Tournament to insure their place in the field of 68? I just don’t get it and it rankles me. 

Don’t get me started on the musings about Tom Brady—will he or won’t he play again? Give me a break!

And my teams are in the dumpster. The Jets haven’t been good for a long while. Ditto the Devils, and the playoffs last year was a one year aberration for the Knicks. 

Golden State is slumping terribly. As much as the Nets badly missed Durant, the Warriors really miss Draymond Green. Watching the team flounder without Green and an ill Play Thompson is unbearable. 

I can’t even fathom what the Yankees are going to be like. Because everything is in limbo. 

Thus, my biggest bit of hostility is directed towards baseball. Fittingly so, given the level of hatred among the parties. 

I have tried to think of every bad descriptive word for the MLB and MLBPA. I will spare you that long list. That’s the level of vitriol the sides have for each other. 

Watching video of Commissioner Rob Manfred, in golf clothes, practicing his golf swing on a balcony of Roger Dean Stadium in Jupiter, Florida, was a visual I could not bear. It explained everything I needed to know about the cavalier attitude of the owners. 

Speaking of owners, on Monday, the terse announcement came from Derek Jeter and the Miami Marlins that the famed Yankees’ shortstop was stepping down as the Marlins’ CEO and divesting himself of his 4% ownership stake. Jeter felt that the team wasn’t going in the right direction. The Marlins thanked Jeter for his work.

Read between the lines here. There is a group of “hawks” among the owners—from a minority of small market teams—who would like nothing more than to break the union. The enmity created by previous negotiations through the years has completely consumed those “billionaires’” as they have been aptly described.  I said to a few people that they remind me of the “Robber Barons “ of yesteryear. Profiteering at its finest.

I don’t hold Tony Clark and his group of players without responsibility. Competitors by nature as ballplayers, they want what they consider is fair given the money that is available. Which is a huge sum. And it is why the factions cannot seem to find a common ground. 

Both groups forget who is really being held hostage. It is the fans. While continually pledging loyalty to the followers of the sport, the warring sides have forgotten how much is spent to go to a game, to purchase TV packages, merchandise, etc. In households where they are not making nearly the minimum salaries young ballplayers are making right now. 

Pardon me for being so cynical. Baseball is losing its grip on the product and what it means to the country. Public arguments over this mind of money sickens me. It is a game, not something involving life and death as is happening in Eastern Europe, where families flee the onslaught of war and many will face shortages of food, water and lives. 

Where will all of this end? I don’t know. Will I go to see baseball this year? Yes, because I made myself a promise to see all of the MLB teams play at home and I have intentions of seeing four of the five parks I have left to visit. 

But I will go holding my nose. I will watch the Yankees with disdain, which will heighten my misery if they once again fail to win. Baseball—and its partners in crime—just don’t seem to get it. 

Writing this diatribe didn’t make me any happier. Sure I will have to wake up and go to another rough session of physical therapy for my ongoing issues. I will continue to wear a mask to protect myself until I have greater assurances that my safety will not be compromised. I will watch gas prices rise like yeast. And I will go to Home Depot and Shop Rite to pay inflated prices. While the sports world gives me very little solace.

Yes, I am grumpy. 

A Lot Of Foolishness

As we watch the horrifying events in the Ukraine and wonder what it means for the United States, we still have sports. While athletics seems trivial in comparison to the vivid images televised from Kyiv and other cities under attack, we look to our games as a way to escape the difficulties we face in our daily lives, and now, as we witness the first major incursion in Europe since World War II, sports are still a diversion from harsh reality.  Most times the outcomes of games buoy us up, , and sometimes they don’t. 

What happened after the Michigan-Wisconsin men’s basketball game was a black eye for the Wolverines’ coach, Juwan Howard, as a representative (and alumnus) of that highly respected school. Howard, employing unnecessary full court pressure at the end of the game where Wisconsin had inserted its subs, was offended when his counterpart, Greg Gard, called a time out with ten seconds left, to advance the ball to half court. Gard’s rationale was to not put too much pressure on the reserves he had inserted to finish the game. 

Somehow this enraged Howard. When the teams met to shake hands, Howard tried to walk right by Gard without shaking his hand. Gard grabbed Howard’s elbow. Then things deteriorated. Words were exchanged. Howard took a swing at a Wisconsin assistant coach. Players pushed, shoved and swung at each other. It was a disgrace. 

The upshot was that Howard, who was previously tossed from a Big Ten Tournament game for his violent, threatening behavior—he is a very big man—was banned 5 games and fined $40,000. Two of his players were banned for one game, which happened to be the Rutgers game on Wednesday night. Gard was fined $10,000 and one Badgers’ player was suspended for a game. 

In my opinion, Gard got off easy. He didn’t need to grab onto Howard. He should have been suspended one game. Howard’s boorish behavior was duly noted by observers and by Gard in the post-game press conference. Gard went relatively unscathed. 

Both coaches didn’t know how to stop competing . That is normally a good quality. Except when one coach takes offense at the other’s tactics while employing unnecessary moves himself. You can’t have it both ways and come away insulted. Like with Howard. 

This was not the first time this season that there had been strange goings on in the handshake line for the Wolverines. A couple of weeks ago, when Michigan lost at Rutgers, a few words and shoves ensued as the teams met after the game. Writers called it a kerfuffle. It was more like a volcano emitting steam, with the eruption inevitable, sometimes sooner rather than later. 

Critics jumped all over this ugly situation. Calls for ending the tradition of handshakes arose. Respected coaches like Tom Izzo, leader of Michigan State, Michigan’s arch rival, came to the defense of the tradition. It angered him that what had happened now resulted in calls for ending this tradition. Izzo pointed to how much has been lost in college basketball by way of teaching points, and that this was a great way to instruct young men as to the reason why these games are important and to remind them there are consequences for misbehavior. 

Michigan’s players came out at home and played an inspired game to beat Rutgers. RU didn’t help itself by having key players get into foul trouble. Michigan’s slim NCAA Tournament hopes remain alive. So does RU still have a chance? They didn’t help themselves much with that loss after losing at Purdue on Sunday where the Knights trailed for the entire game. Both teams have to win out for any realistic chance to go to the Big Dance. And maybe have a win or two in the Big Ten Tournament. Otherwise, they could both be relegated to the NIT—where they might meet up once more. 

The NBA All-Star Game took place in Cleveland over the weekend. As most know, that is the home turf of one LeBron James, who was a captain of one of the teams. His opposition was Team Durant, led by the injured Brooklyn Nets star, Kevin Durant. 

Normally, I do not watch the NBA All-Star Game. The only reason I turned it on was to see the members of the NBA’s 75th Anniversary Team be honored at half time. Some 40 of the greats of the league were present, capped off by the final announcement of the G.O.A.T., Michael Jordan, who entered to a rousing roar of approval. 

I love the Yankees tradition of Old Timers Day. Bringing back the memorable names of yesteryear always has an attraction for me. Call me nostalgic. 

Thus, seeing the legends on stage in Cleveland on Sunday night was awesome. Shaq. Barkley. Miller, Petit, Anthony, Wilkins, Ewing, Walton, Iverson, Gervin were among the honorees who were there. Of course, those who had passed away were honored too—Chamberlain, Maravich and the thunderous cheer for the late Koby Bryant. I loved it. 

Then I learned that Steph Curry, one of the honorees, playing for Team LeBron, had been shooting threes in bunches. So I started to watch. And Curry did not disappoint. 

Ultimately, Curry drained 16 three-point shots, many from way beyond the arc. It was as marvelous a shooting display as one had ever seen. His heroics led to his receipt of the M.V.P. trophy named after Bryant for the first time. 

While Curry ended up with 50 points—that is 2 shy of the All-Star Game record—it took a shot from team leader LeBron James to seal the victory for his team. In Cleveland, where he was still beloved as the best local ever to play basketball. Which is interesting, because Steph Curry and LeBron were both born in the same Akron hospital, three years apart. That is some tandem. 

We needed the relaxed atmosphere of NBA All-Star Game weekend to erase the ugliness of the college game and escape the world’s geo-political maelstrom. It was glorious to watch New Jersey native, Karl-Anthony Towns of the Minnesota Timberwolves, win the Three-Point Shooting Contest, recording the highest final round score ever. Very impressive shooting, period, let alone for somebody who is 7’0. 

In these times where we are trying to emerge from the nuclear winter which COVID immersed us in, a return to some enjoyable times gives hope to the possibility that we may have more normal times. Even with the caution still coming via the Center for Disease Control. 

The politicians are all in favor of loosening the restraints and requirements. Their rationale is driven by the economy. An economy which is now wrapped up in a war that we did not bring on and inflation which has its roots in many things. 

Mayor Eric Adams announced this week that New York City is ready to loosen its vise grip on COVID. He didn’t say when, but his tone implied that such easing of restrictions will occur sooner rather than later, barring another unexpected upsurge, 

I have to admit that my wife and I were tempted to attend the Paul Mc Cartney concert at Met Life Stadium on June 16. Might COVID be only endemic by that time? 

Except that when I looked at the prices for the event—well over $150 per seat plus ticket insurance to sit way upstairs and away from the stage—I blanched. It’s bad enough that Jets tickets and parking cost me well over $200 per game—with a mediocre product to boot. At least Mc Cartney, who will turn 80 two days after the concert, gives a far better performance than what the Jets put on the field. But that wasn’t enough to change my mind.

The outgrowth of Mayor Adams’ decision would be that Kyrie Irving, that renowned anti-vaxxer, would get to play in playoff games if the Nets can get Durant healthy and recently-acquired Ben Simmons can finally reach a mental health level which would put him on the court. The experts believed that this would vault the Nets back into serious playoff contention. 

I disagree. The top teams in the Eastern Conference—Miami, Chicago, Milwaukee and Philadelphia are much stronger than Brooklyn, when they are at full strength. This is foolish thinking, especially with a squad mired in a 12 game losing streak. 

Then again, we’ve seen a lot of foolishness this week. 

I Just Don't Get It!

I’m annoyed. With the owners and the MLBPA. Those two groups have decided to draw a line in the sand. And we are facing the realistic prospect of a shortened baseball season, if any at all. 

The list of differences between the sides is enormous. Which makes for very little movement between the two on compromise. This is why very few meetings have occurred since the lockout began on December 2. The rumors emanating from the few times the sides have talked in person are that there was plenty of shouting. 

Apparently, Commissioner Rob Manfred and MLBPA head Tony Clark have a deep, unrelenting hatred for each other. Whether it is egos or simply the agendas both groups have or a combination of both, this is not a formula for resolution. 

I think longingly, as a couple of my former F&M teammates have wistfully stated on Facebook, that some kind of practice should be starting. Collegians have been practicing in earnest for a while, with games about to begin. The major leaguers were always in lockstep with our prepping for the season. 

There was a picture of a father and son looking through the locked gates of the Chicago Cubs Spring Training stadium in Mesa, Arizona, likely wishing they could enter to watch their heroes throw, catch and hit. That epitomized the prospects for baseball right now. Doors locked by owners as a ploy to force negotiations. Players dug in, feeling slighted about the economics which, in their collective minds, inordinately favors the ownership cabal. 

We are going to have to endure the taint of the negotiations for the immediate weeks, and maybe long-term, depending on how long the acrimony continues. Personally, I am not in sync with either camp, as my sympathy is not with either given the salaries which are enormous, and the prices and smugness which the clubs have. 

I go back to a simpler time, when as a child and even in my college years and a bit after that, all I cared about was that the players, my heroes, played ball. I loved the hot summer nights in our tiled and wood-paneled den in my family’s home in Highland Park, a Yankees game from Detroit or Cleveland on the screen with Mel Allen handling the WPIX broadcast.  

We had a big fan, a powerful industrial unit which my father brought home from his dental office in nearby Edison. It noisily cooled the room if you sat in the right spot—my mother would actually bring a sweater to wear because of the sheer force of the wind from the fan. And there we would sit, eyes transfixed on the Philco black and white TV, watching Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Whitey Ford and crew try to garner another win against their rivals. 

Who thought of the finances of the major leagues back then? Players had to supplement their income with second jobs. Mantle often told the story of how Yankees GM George Weiss wanted to cut Mantle’s salary in 1957, because he didn’t reach the lofty air of the Triple Crown he won in 1956, hitting .353 with 52 home runs, 130 R.B.I. and leading the American League in runs scored, slugging percentage and O.P.S. in helping to take the Yankees to a World Series win over the Brooklyn Dodgers. It didn’t matter that Mantle had a higher average and still hit 34 home runs, produced 94 R.B.I., led the league in walks and runs scored as the Yankees lost to the Milwaukee Braves in the World Series. 

So the history of management hindering the players salaries while reaping the profits goes back to my youth and before. And a history of bitterness between the union and management began with Marvin Miller’s tenure as the voice of the players, which has led to work stoppages that damaged the game for years, with the fans resentful of the money bandied about by both sides. 

I don’t like how this all sounds right now. I would rather be concerned over what moves the Yankees will make to shore up the roster and whether or not the team will offer Aaron Judge a long term deal—remember—the guy is recently married and could use the income. I just don’t care for the way things stand right now for baseball and how they portend for the future, starting with the 2022 season.

The Super Bowl is over. The Los Angeles Rams are the NFL champions. In a close but not that exciting game—how could anything top or come close to the previous weeks excitement—the Rams managed to score on a Matthew Stafford to Cooper Kupp connection near the end of the game and the defense, led by all-world pass rusher Aaron Donald, thwarted the last heroics of Joe Burrow and company to reach field goal range and attempt to tie the game. 

Most everyone outside Southern Ohio and Northern Kentucky expected the Rams to prevail. Los Angeles was built for this year, with a veteran squad, a QB who needed to escape the vast football wasteland known as Detroit, and the WR who had worn out his welcome in New York and Cleveland. On the other hand, the Bengals had turned things around with a dynamic offensive duo in Burrow and Ja’Marr Chase, his LSU teammate, but had a dubious offensive line and a questionable defense. 

Even when Odell Beckham, Jr., the extremely-talented wide receiver with the resume issues went down with an apparent knee injury, the Rams were able to stay in the game by the significant adjustments made at halftime to free Donald to pursue the quarterback. Which he did with a fervor. 

Too many post-game remarks were made. Would Sean McVay, the Rams brilliant coach return? (Yes)  Ditto Donald? (Yes) Does Stafford have Hall of Fame credentials after winning his first ring? (Perhaps) Are the Bengals for real? (Let’s see how the off season goes)

My answer to all of this garbage is to let it rest. Get a life. Of course, I am a diehard New York Jets fan, so what credibility do I really have anyway? 

The hard-to believe Rutgers Scarlet Knights men’s basketball team is on a roll. One of epic proportions. But is their winning streak over ranked Big Ten opponents sustainable after dismantling #12 Illinois on Wednesday night at Jersey Mike’s Arena in front of a sellout crowd which could eat and drink inside for the first time this season? 

Head Coach Steve Pikiell has the team performing up to the capabilities he expressed at the beginning of the season. The inexplicable losses to Lafayette—one of two home losses this campaign—and on the road to the likes of De Paul and UMass, bottom feeders in their own conferences, have certainly impacted the Knights’ chances to make the Big Dance. 

I think those losses can be excluded from their recent four consecutive wins over ranked opponents, including a stunning victory at Wisconsin, the school’s first-ever over the Badgers. Rutgers now has 7 Quad 1 wins—triumphs over top tier opponents—a mark that few Power 5 schools can claim. And again, they are definitely on a late season surge. 

There are those who feel RU is already in the NCAA Tournament based on this recent streak of success. My response is that it is mere conjecture. This is Rutgers. In 2020 they had a team worthy of the tournament. Then COVID stopped them in their tracks.

Last season, the Knights finally achieved their goal, and even won their opening round game over Clemson. Then they surrendered the lead and lost the next contest to a Houston team which made it to the Final Four. Historically, RU has had its share of ups and downs as far as the NCAA is concerned. That included a drought from 1991 until last year’s appearance. 

Which is why I do not consider RU a lock to be in this year’s field. The schedule is daunting. First, there is a revenge match this Sunday in West Lafayette, Indiana, as #5 Purdue seeks redemption for the Ron Harper, Jr. winning heave earlier this year. Road games at Michigan and Indiana will be equally formidable. The home games include a rematch with Wisconsin and the regular season finale with Penn State, which handled the Knights in State College. Nothing easy here.

Keeping the team healthy and playing to an elite level is a big challenge. Leading scorer Harper, Jr. left late in the game with a non-shooting hand injury which looked like a dislocation. His status is uncertain for Sunday and maybe for the remainder of the season. Rutgers cannot afford further injury to its core players—team leader Geo Baker; defensive wizard Caleb McConnell, likely the Big Ten Defensive Player of the Year; suddenly super point guard Paul Mulcahy; blossoming center Cliff Omoruyi; and sub Dean Reiber. 

It has been one heck of a ride these past few weeks. Any falloff from the present level of play, whether by injuries or by reverting to its earlier level of play, could doom the team’s chances to return to the NCAA Tournament. 

Thinking that the team could actually win the regular season Big Ten title is water cooler stuff. Yes, it could happen. But that happening is as likely as Skylab was to crash in the US upon re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere. 

One thing for sure—with how baseball is proceeding, with what the pundits are doing to diminish the glow of the Rams’ Super Bowl win and Rutgers meteoric rise from the ashes—leaves me with this conclusion: I just don’t get it!

Timed Out

Normally, I compose my blogs with a bit of pressure. My time frames vary, dependent upon a number of influencing factors. Some are sports-related, as a certain event may not happen until later in the week, so I might write about it after it is concluded. Other times, I usually write knowing that I will be done with the blog on either a Friday or Saturday. 

Some of my time frames are determined by the availability of my always reliable editor. That person has a personal life that is far more important than the blog. Thus, I try to squeeze my writing in so that there is ample time for the editing to occur. 

I have been advised by my editor that a vacation looms beginning on Friday. Given what I owe already in promises, I heed that admonition and I am drafting this blog with the timing  definitely in mind. 

It certainly does not mean that I won’t have enough to discuss. It isn’t like I am going to break down why the Brooklyn Nets are losing with Kevin Durant and James Harden on the sidelines. Nor am I going to distinguish why a recently consummated Ben Simmons for Harden deal now would be foolish for Brooklyn, which is already a dysfunctional team that rookie Head Coach Steve Nash is desperately trying to keep above water until his Big 3 are healthy (which includes Simmons’ mental state) and in shape and shooting combo/guard/ forward Joe Harris is also back from his injury, now joined by Steph Curry’s brother, Seth, an able marksman himself. Nope, not going there. It is too detailed for the time I have. 

I have seen little about the Winter Olympics, although it is one of the top stories on NBC Nightly News with Lester Holt. The most I have seen was at 6:30 Wednesday morning when I went for the umpteenth session of physical therapy for my balky right hamstring. 

I won’t bore you with the falls of ace downhill skier Mikaela Shiffrin, putting her out of the competition in the first two events. Just like I won’t get into detail about Team USA losing to its arch rival, Team Canada, in Women’s Hockey preliminary competition. Despite raining over 50 shots on the Canadian goalie. Nothing to say there either. 

I cannot get into detail about the luge performance by Natalie Geisenberger of Germany. She has won individual performances three times, which have caused many to anoint her as the G.O.A.T. of her sport. I certainly don’t have time to debate that. I wonder if, after she retires, she is asked by a reporter on her own podcast, just like Tom Brady this week, if she plans to return to competition. I cannot hazard a guess that she might say, like Brady, that you can never say never. I hardly know of the woman. 

I cannot say that I can understand the schizophrenic nature of the Rutgers’ Men’s Basketball team. They can be horrible on the road for stretches of time, then come roaring back to make a game of a seemingly lost contest. Yet they absolutely dominated a highly-ranked Michigan State team with ferocious defense and a potent offense. Wednesday tenacious defense shut down Ohio State during an improbable 10-0 run to finish the game with a win. Paul Mulcahy has become a force for this team, and Geo Baker and Ron Harper, Jr. are maddeningly inconsistent. But I cannot analyze the psyche of this group because I am not clinically trained or licensed to make an assessment as to how the team might fare the rest of the season and if they have a prayer of making the NCAA Tournament. I am at an impasse on this subject. 

Just how unstoppable have the Golden State Warriors become since the return of Klay Thompson? He has started to lead the team in scoring, and Jonathan Kuminga has taken on a role off of the bench which injects youth and athleticism into the Warriors already potent game. This is without me mentioning that they have Steph Curry and his three point bombs, sharpshooting All Star forward Andrew Wiggins and Jordan Poole, who subs in with his long-range accuracy. Who knows what this team will really be like when Draymond Green finally returns from his ongoing calf injury and James Wiseman is fully healed from his knee injury?

How could I possibly find the time or space to get into that sort of prognosticating? 

Or must I try to figure how good the UConn Women’s Basketball team might be if Paige Bueckers returns this season? Having knocked off some pretty good teams lately, including Tennessee, thus creeping back into the Top Ten, is UConn a sleeper for South Carolina and Stanford to face? Too early to ponder that possibility, especially after their incredible conference winning streak came to end courtesy of Villanova. 

Instead, I have to work fast here. I have to ignore how the 1.5 hour wait I had for the MRI which I endured on Wednesday afternoon. So, too, do I need to not think about the salty pizza with very little sauce which I ingested on National Pizza Day. Plus I must put aside my fears that my 13+ year old Pontiac SUV with over 119,000 miles on it and with a suspect transmission, now has  a real issue when it chugged along the streets on Wednesday and produced a very acrid smell once I maneuvered it safely into my driveway. 

Let me get my focus readjusted despite all of these distractions. Let me not delve into the ongoing head coach hirings in the NFL, which included one who is of mixed ethnicity and the return of Love Smith, once the leader in Chicago and still beloved by Michael Wilbon of ESPN’s Pardon The Interruption. Brian Flores’ lawsuit persists. The aura of a hostile workplace in Washington remains. Whatever Roger Goodell said at his open air State of the NFL presser in Los Angeles on Wednesday can remain open to conjecture. It might warrant an essay on the subject—which I am loathe to do given my time constraints. 

There is a Super Bowl coming to you this weekend from what may be record-breaking heat at So-Fi Stadium. Then again, there may be a truck convoy, just like one lining the streets of Ottawa this week, protesting COVID restrictions on truckers between the U.S and Canada. I am no expert on that debate and I am extraordinarily glad that my wife, son and I did visit the Canadian capital in January, 2019 when the New Jersey Devils visited, unlike the team’s trip on this Monday night amidst the gridlock. I am not getting into geo-political discourse on this matter in the limited time I am given. 

I am not going to offer a score prediction for the Super Bowl because I would have to devote much statistical information to back up any conclusion I may draw. That’s not gonna work here. 

I have this belief that the AFC was better than the NFC this season. Just like I have a belief that no matter how good teams from the Big Ten are in football and basketball, they are not going to win national championships. If you want analytics to support these suppositions, I am not going to provide such in this forum. 

Is youngster Joe Burrows, with the incredible swagger, better than the homesteading veteran Matthew Stafford, as two number one overall selections lead their respective teams in the title game? Is the Rams defense that special, with All-Everything Aaron Donald and Von Miller assaulting Burrows and making him throw quicker lest he be sacked repeatedly like he was in Tennessee? 

Does Stafford have an arsenal of receivers like Odell Beckham, Jr. and Cooper Kupp who he can rely on to haul in deep throws while making exciting gains on the short tosses, thus avoiding the crucible of interceptions which has been a bane of the Rams QB’s career? How can I predict what might occur here? 

My bigger worry is that there might be a sizable snowfall on Sunday. This would ruin my first invite to a Super Bowl party in eons. Forecasters are unwilling to give totals at this juncture. I am not going to look at the data offered by the Euro model and be brave enough to predict what might befall the East Coast on Super Bowl Sunday. I would run out of time with that meteorological uptake. 

Let me end with two things. ESPN began an anthology on Monday nights on the ACC Network entitled The Tournament. For college basketball junkies like me, it is must see TV. Many memories are rekindled and new information is elicited. I am not going to critique this because I can’t. Not enough time to do it accurately. 

For my time is up. I am thinking of “Time” by Pink Floyd. Or “Time In A Bottle” by Jim Croce. Perhaps “Time After Time” from Cyndy Lauper? Then there is the classic “Time Is On My Side” by the Rolling Stones. Plus many more songs with time in the title to choose from. 

Time for me and my editor to take a time out. 

Travelogue

I write a blog early so I can go travel to the South again and what happens? A whole heck of a lot. 

Besides worrying myself a bit about the Nor’Easter, which slammed New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts and Maine, and how it would affect my driving plans (it didn’t), I hardly watched televised sports during the last 8 days. 

Sure, I saw Rutgers come from behind to outlast Nebraska, once more raising their faint NCAA hopes. Which may have come tumbling down in a stupefying overtime loss at Northwestern on Tuesday. I wish I could have seen Paul Mulcahy’s out-of-the blue 31 point outburst and the Knights roaring back to outscore the Wildcats 42-18 in the second half. But I would have been angry if I had seen Caleb Mc Connell and Geo Baker go scoreless for the entire game. 

I watched the Warriors win at home versus Kyrie Irving (boo, hiss!! for his vaccine stance) and the Nets, which played without Kevin Durant and James Harden. It wasn’t pretty, but Golden State concluded its homestead with 6 straight victories after an OT loss to Indiana to start the time at the Chase Center. 

Hey, even F&M won on Saturday. The Diplomats swept the season series from Washington College, taking down the Shoremen in Lancaster. 

A rear trifecta for me. My teams actually winning on the same day was cause for a mini-celebration. Except I had to go to sleep, to be adequately prepared for the grueling road trip ahead. 

Sunday dawned bright and cold. Did I say cold? We are talking in the low teens when we left the driveway. With 7” of snow deposited on our property courtesy of the aformentioned storm. 

Thankfully traffic wasn’t overbearing down to Baltimore. I still have visions in my head of summertime trips with Fan X, where he somehow maneuvered his way through the hordes of cars and trucks on Interstate 95 in Maryland to miraculously get us to our seats at Oriole Park at Camden Yards just in time for the first pitch. (For the record, we made it to Exit 53 in a shade over 3 hours, as we had two bathroom breaks and chowed down a quick lunch)

My wife and I made a stop at a strip mall in Columbia, Maryland to see my college roommate and a devoted reader. Can you believe that we didn’t talk about sports at all?

The road trip was uneventful even around Washington. I did remorsefully see the signs for Capital Center Drive, a shout out to when the Bullets and Capitals played in the namesake arena out on the I-495 Beltway. Of course, there were Metro signs for Nationals Park, and we passed nearby Fed Ex Field, the home of the-then Washington Football Team, now known as the Commanders. Couldn’t ownership have thought of anything better than to glom the nickname from a video game? I won’t even mention how they screwed up the logo with incorrect dates of the franchise’s three Super Bowl wins. Wait, I think I just did. 

Traveling down I-95 through NOVA, it seemed like the D.C. Metro area extended for miles beyond the southern side of the Beltway. The traffic southbound was fairly strong, but heading northbound, it was even heavier. 

Suddenly, everything came to a halt. We were mired in a 5 mile, 45 minute back up due to an accident which caused two lanes to be shut. Our travels hadn’t reached Richmond and my thoughts of seeing the end of the Cincinnati-Kansas City AFC title game seemed to be dashed. I had a long way to go to Rocky Mount, NC, and darkness would become my old friend. 

My wife kept tabs on the game on her cell phone. At first it seemed like KC and Patrick Mahomes II would run away to another Super Bowl appearance. Except that Joe Burrow and crew had other ideas. With the game coming to an end, I finally gave in and located Westwood One on Sirius XM and caught the call of Ian Eagle along with Tony Boselli. 

The Chiefs tied the game with a field goal, then won the coin toss. Would history repeat itself? Could Mahomes lead his team down the field to a score and deny the Bengals a chance to have the ball?

Not on this Sunday. From the radio play-by-play, it seemed like Mahomes gave the game away in his last two passes, the latter being intercepted in good scoring position for the Bengals. And that’s what happened. A few minutes later, Cincinnati punched its ticket to So-Fi Stadium with a game-clinching field goal. 

I wanted the Chiefs to win and be recognized as a dynasty. But I also recognized that Burrow is every bit as good as the hype coming out of LSU with a National Championship. Don’t count this young Cincinnati team out, even if the Rams came from behind at home to down their nemesis, the San Francisco 49’ers. While LA is quite good, I believe the AFC is better than the NFC, and Cincinnati will not be giving up much playing in the Rams stadium on Super Bowl Sunday. 

At least the game was over early enough for us to get some sleep. We caught the game on the Raleigh FOX affiliate at the end of the first quarter. It just didn’t have the pizazz of the other games preceding it, including the Rams-Bucs game the week before. 

Or as it might be called, Tom Brady’s final game. For on Saturday, the rumor that Brady was retiring was stated as fact. Then promptly denied by Brady and his associates.  The outpouring of love for the G.O.A.T. was nice to see. The Jets were sure glad he was gone. By Tuesday morning, the oft denied rumor became fact—he was really retiring. Which led to another swell of love and affection for TB12. 

Brady went out on a high note, even in defeat. He was top gun this season. He owns so many records that will be difficult to break. He was the ultimate competitor at quarterback.

I don’t know if there will be another like him. There has never been anyone like Babe Ruth. Or Michael Jordan. Or Wayne Gretzky. And now there won’t be anyone like Tom Brady. 

We continued our trip on Monday through  North and South Carolina, into Georgia. We stayed overnight in my birthplace, Albany, Georgia. Who knew that I shared Albany as my first home with Ray Charles, not just Ray Knight? 

On Tuesday  we departed from Georgia into Florida, Alabama, Mississippi and into Louisiana. When we passed through Mobile, I thought of Henry Aaron, a native of that city and I also thought of the upcoming Senior Bowl to be held there on Saturday. The Jets coaches are leading one side. 

Seeing the Superdome with the Caesar logo and red and green lights made it look as cheesy as the Smoothie King Center next door. I saw a lot more Alabama stickers and colors on cars than any other SEC school during our trip. 

Tuesday was also the day Brian Flores had had enough. Fired from the Miami Dolphins despite getting his team untracked was uncalled for (but within the right of team owner Steven Ross), Flores had been embarrassed when his mentor, Bill Belichick erroneously texted him instead of Brian Daboll, to congratulate Daboll on becoming the head man for the New York Giants—BEFORE it had been announced. 

This showed what a sham the Rooney Rule had become in terms of hiring black head coaches. As of today,  Pittsburgh’s Mike Tomlin remains the only man of color leading a team in a league dominated by players who are of color. 

Flores was never given enough of a chance—he was a token interview in a stacked deck for the Giants, as the new GM sought someone he was familiar with from his former team, the Buffalo Bills. Flores felt the same way in Denver, which has adamantly denied the fact. 

So he chose to expose the NFL by way of lawsuit. Even if this hurts him in his quest to be  a head coach in the league—he is still in the running for the openings in New Orleans and Houston. 

Some of the things he related—tanking games at the request of the owner in exchange for $100,000—were abhorrent. Flores also indicated that he was being forced to recruit star-crossed Deshaun Watson to come to Miami, despite the allegations of so many women against the quarterback. 

The NFL is a dirty business. It gets what it deserves. A lawsuit of this magnitude has been necessary for a long while given how black head coaches are always short-changed in terms of few hirings of deserving men and earlier than usual firings of those who get to lead a team. 

The NFL coffers still get richer in spite of their glaring employment deficiencies. NBC has announced that all Super Bowl commercials have been sold for the tidy sum of $7 million per ad. People will party heartily on February 12th, which used to be known as Lincoln’s Birthday. I wonder how he would ruminate and opine on the goings on in the NFL and the country? And how does Ryan Tannehill feel about the news that Aaron Rodgers is building a home nearby Nashville, where Ryan is the quarterback for the Titans—for now?

Anyway, we are back in New Jersey, in the comfort of our house. This travelogue is over. I can return to watching sports on TV.