Flannel Shirt

Bob's Cavalcade of Sports, May 3, 2012

I've been deluged with people wanting to know my scoring of the NFL draft. I thought that the Niners picked up some really talented players. I would have liked them to have gotten Coby Fleener, but the receiver they got is fast, fast, fast. And drafting LaMichael James, a very fast running back from Oregon, may actually get more Niner games up here in Portland.

But, really, who knows how a draft will turn out until five years down the road?

And then there is the news of Junior Seau's death, a possible suicide, allegedly a self-inflicted shot in the chest. There is a troubling trend of suicides among former NFL players with concussion histories. This would not be the first suicide of an NFL player by a shot to the chest. Past suicides began killing themselves this way so as to preserve their brains for study.

I love football, but the NFL has a big problem here.

Meanwhile, the Giants are meandering around .500 so far this year. The team is younger and more interesting this year. We shall see, although I can't really follow them from up here in the north country.

The dumbest guy in baseball

Every town has its own third rail. But some third rails are hotter than others.

Ozzie Guillen is known as a loose cannon. He's been managing baseball teams for awhile and just started a $12 million contract with the Miami Marlins. The owners thought, Hey, a Spanish-speaking manager in the new stadium in the middle of the Cuban community.

But Guillen, in an interview with Time Magazine, started talking about his admiration for Fidel Castro.

"I love Fidel Castro," the Venezuelan-born Guillen told Time magazine's online edition. "You know why? A lot of people have wanted to kill Fidel Castro for the last 60 years but that mother- - is still here."

Of course, most of the people who want to kill Castro live in Miami.

I'm trying to think of any equivalent. Maybe the manager of the Yankees could say that Osama bin Laden was a good guy. I dunno. If I were Ozzie I'd have one of my coaches bring the lineup card to home plate for the next month.

Rubbing it in

Some people, like my mom, can't help rubbing it in. Okay, this year it was "Lil Eli" and the New York Football Giants. Next year it's gonna be the 49ers. Bank on it.

Super Bowl commercial hangover

It's over, but before we head on down to baseball's spring training and move along the calendar of life, one last glance at the great festival.

It used to be that people looked forward to commercials during the Super Bowl. Since it costs so much for commercial time there was a lot of care and thought put into making good commercials. Now, not so much. Go Daddy seems to be stuck making the same commercial over and over again, adolescent boys from the 1970s.

There was a big production, one by Budweiser about the joy felt throughout the land when Prohibition was lifted and Americans could drink Bud again. This was clearly a big bucks effort, but the plotline was thin. Sort of like their beer.

There was a kerfuffle about the Halftime In America commercial, where Clint Eastwood gave a somewhat jingoistic, patriotic salute to Detroit's auto industry bouncing back. Some Republicans claimed that it was a pro-Obama spot. Eastwood is notoriously Republican and he scoffed at that. It was a car commercial. When the commercial came on I thought it was one of those anti-smoking ads. Eastwood's voice was raw and he's looking so old these days I didn't recognize him.

There wasn't much else to look at with this year's crop of commercials. There was a Matthew Broderick commercial advertising something that was supposed to be a takeoff on "Ferris Bueller" but I kept asking myself, "Who is Broderick portraying? Did he kidnap that little girl?" There was a commercial about a dog who fetched beer bottles for people at a party. It felt like they were marketing to people who were nostalgic for 1980s beer commercials. I was waiting for an updated "more taste, less filling" commercial.

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The Urban Dictionary has a new term, "super bowel", to describe movements the day after Super Bowl parties where people are getting rid of all those nachos, salsa, hot wings and so forth.

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I hate ESPN.

Congrats, "Lil Eli"

I talked with my mom before the game. Being new to Florida and the local Comcast lineup she was having trouble finding the Super Bowl channel. If she found it she saw "Lil Eli" Manning leading the New York Giants to a come from behind victory.

I can't say I was terribly behind either team, but both quarterbacks played great games, and Tom Brady was only a few inches away from winning the game on the last play.

Next up, The Combine.

Boy, Madonna sucks!

Boy, Madonna sucks. It's like she's from another universe of suckitude. 

Well, it's Super Bowl Sunday

I have no dog in this fight and no strong rooting interest either. The New York Giants are led by quarterback Eli Manning, "Lil' Eli" as my mom calls him. My Mom roots for the Giants. There were hard feelings a couple of weeks ago when the Giants took my Niners out of the playoffs. Meanwhile, my buddy Lou is a Pats fan. He lives so close to their stadium that if the wind is blowing right he can hear the cheers.

Like I say, got no dog in the fight. I'll watch the game and maybe one team or the other will become rootable to me and I'll cheer for them. Popcorn, chips, ice tea (I'm watching at Joan's and I'll have to drive home afterwards). 

This is the time of year when a sadness descends on the football world. This is it. No more games until next fall. Of course, football has become a year-round entertainment industry. After the Super Bowl clears out of Indianapolis there'll be "the combine", where college players hoping to make it in the NFL will be running forty yard dashes, lifting weights and taking intelligence tests to prove themselves worthy to some pro team. 

Then there's the whole off-season, with teams bringing in members and training and practicing new plays. And then there's free agents. And then there are the projections, which team will do what. So there's a lot of stuff to look at between now and next September, and baseball's spring training should be starting up in a couple of weeks. The cycles of the season.

In mourning

Well, the spaghetti sauce was good.

And it was a good game, too. Unfortunately, the Niners lost on a couple of Kyle Williams turnovers. And Williams was returning kicks only because the Niners' regular return guy, Ted Ginn Jr., was injured.

It is what it is.

I'll be wearing my black t-shirt today. My heart is heavy.

Predictions

Who knows who's going to win the Giants-Niners game? But here are my predictions for the broadcast:

I predict that someone will slip in the mud at Candlestick today.

I predict that the Gold Rush, the Niners' cheerleaders, will smile and be perky no matter what the score or weather.

I predict that coming back from commercial breaks the Fox network will show shots of a cable car, Alcatraz and Fisherman's Wharf, as well as "the crookedest street in the world".

I predict that if there's a moment of silence at the Stick for Paterno that someone will boo.

I predict that someone will boo Broadway star Kristin Chenoweth, a Giants fan, when she sings the National Anthem.
 
I predict there will be a new beer commercial where someone who drinks the wrong light beer will be threatened with the loss of his "man card". There will be hearty laughs among his buddies at the end of the commercial.

I also predict that Sam Elliot will narrate a commercial about a tough truck and mention "trannies".
I'm feeling like a regular Kreskin here.

Championship Sunday

Well, this is it. The Niners face off this afternoon against the New York football Giants. It should be a close, hard-fought game. After last week's shootout win over the Saints the Niners will be in a slugfest. Weather reports are that it'll be rainy and muddy. Lots of slipping and sliding.

I realize my mom will be rooting for the Giants while I root for the Niners. Best of luck, Mom, but I think it'll be the Niners.

My buddy Lou up in Massachusetts will be rooting for the Patriots.

Joan's teaching a class today. She'll be over for most of the game. Spaghetti for dinner.