Vrani Fieldhouse

No. 1 Fallacy of 2009: Tech will struggle with new QB

2009-09-01T14:38:00.004-05:00

Some free time, two cups of coffee and a ludicrous argument have inspired me to officially end the too-long hiatus here at Vrani Fieldhouse. The free time and the coffee are pretty self-explanatory – they are two of my favorite things, and they have both graced me with their presence this afternoon.

The ludicrous argument, though, is what I really want to talk about. And it’s this:

Texas Tech will struggle this season because they are breaking in a new quarterback. I have read that logic in Sports Illustrated, the KC Star, Sporting News’ annual preview issue and numerous other places. But I’m writing today to tell you that the logic is bunk.

Now, part of the argument is true. Texas Tech is indeed losing a big-time quarterback with the graduation of Graham Harrell, a three-year starter for Mike Leach’s Red Raiders. And Harrell had an outlandish college career: In three years as a starter, he had 15,371 passing yards, 131 touchdowns to 34 interceptions and a million staggering stat-lines.*

* Pick your favorite line. Was it last season’s 43-of-58 game against Eastern Michigan for 536 yards? What about the 40-for-50 game against then-No. 9 Oklahoma State with 456 yards? Or go back to ’07, when Harrell was 48-of-64 for 484 yards against UTEP, or 36-of-43 (83.3 percent) for 425 yards and four TDs against Iowa State. Or if you’re a 2006 fan, there was the 42-of-61 game at Texas in which Harrell – in his first year starting – threw for 519 yards and nearly led an upset of UT before losing 35-31. On and on and on…

Anyway, my point isn’t that Harrell wasn’t awesome, jaw-dropping and more entertaining than John Bale’s throw last night to second base. The point is that it doesn’t matter who Texas Tech’s quarterback is. Those stat lines aren’t unique to Harrell; they’re unique to the head coach, Mike Leach, who is again back in the saddle in Lubbock after a bit of a tumultuous contract dispute following last season.

Under Leach, the quarterback really isn’t important. No – that’s not what I mean. The quarterback is actually incredibly important. I mean that who the quarterback is, the guy’s name and number and height and weight and arm-strength and age – that stuff’s not important. Leach is something of a genius, so much so that he can just plug guys in and watch them shred defenses. Doesn’t matter who the guy is.

Let’s go back to 2003. That was the season when Tech’s B.J. Symons threw for – and these aren’t typos – 5,833 yards, 52 touchdowns (and 22 picks) and 470 completions on just* 719 attempts, good for an average of 8.1 yards per ATTEMPT, not per completion. Nutty, nutty statistics. And you know what? He didn’t start in 2002. No, 2003 was his first (and only) season as the head man in Lubbock. And he threw for more than 3.3 miles.

* I use the word “just” not to suggest that Tech didn’t throw it a ton. They did. In fact, Tech threw 118 more passes than the next most pass-happy team, Hawaii, and 219 times more than No. 3, Oregon State – 719 to 510. Rather, I say “just” to point out that 470 is a big chunk of 719 – 65.4 percent.

The next season, without the since-graduated Symons, Tech just kept on clicking. A guy named Sonny Cumbie – I haven’t heard back from the university about whether or not that’s his real name – threw for 4,742 yards, 32 touchdowns and completed 65.6 percent of his passes.

Well, you might say, those numbers are certainly down from Symons. Sure, they were down. But Cumbie still led the nation in passing yards, passing yards per game and completions per game; he was fifth in points-responsible-for, and the only people who had more passing touchdowns either played an additional game or resided in the MAC or WAC. (Bowling Green’s Omar Jacobs had 41 TDs, and Hawaii’s Timmy Chang had 38.)

So when Symons left, the huge void at QB was replaced by someone who (a) had never started and (b) was named Sonny Cumbie. And still, Tech was the most prolific passing outfit around.

In 2005, it was the same story: Another new Tech QB, another guy with a funny name, and another crazy season. Cody Hodges – who had thrown nine collegiate passes to that point – had 4,238 yards passing, threw 31 TDs to 12 INTs, averaged 8.0 yards per pass and was fifth among BCS conference QBs in completion percentage at 66.4. He was second in the nation in total passing yards and passing yards per game; Hawaii slinger and Vrani Fieldhouse favorite Colt Brennan led in both those categories.

You can guess what happen in 2006. Same thing. Yet another QB – this time it was Harrell – who had never really played was called upon to lead this circus offense, and he did.

Harrell threw 55 passes as a freshman in 2005, so he was green when he hit the scene. No matter. In 2006, he had 4,555 yards passing, completed 66.9 percent of his throws, tossed 38 TDs and averaged 7.4 yards per attempt*. In that sophomore campaign, Harrel was third in the nation in passing yards and passing yards per game, behind only Brennan and New Mexico State’s quarterback; no one else was doing this against legit competition. Harrell was second in completions per game, fourth in points-responsible-for, etc., etc.

* I keep mentioning the yards per attempt stat because, while it is kind of an obscure stat to some, it is so revealing for Tech QBs. Think about that: More than seven yards per attempt. Couple that with the steady 67 percent completion percentage, and the math plays out like so: For every 15 attempts, 10 of them will be complete, and those ten completions will net you about 110 yards. And it’s not like the yards per completion numbers are so high because every completion is a bomb. On the contrary, most of the completions are dinks-and-dumps. But dinks-and-dumps are all you need if every single one – or at least 67 percent – is complete.

Next, in 2007 and 2008, Texas Tech experienced something new: The QB didn’t change. Harrell was back at it as a junior and senior, and, not surprisingly, he put up gaudy numbers – and simply calling them “gaudy” is on par with simply calling Michael Jackson “odd.” He threw for 5,705 yards and 48 TDs in 2007, and 5,111 yards and 45 TDs in 2008. And the old yards-per-throw was 8.0 and 8.2, respectively.

The only difference with Harrell in 2008 was the way Tech became a national title contender. They were in the top three, they beat then-unbeaten Texas*, they went into Norman with a chance to claim the No. 1 spot. They got lambasted, of course, by OU**, but I’m just saying that the 2008 Tech team was different by virtue of their prominence. NOT because Harrell was the first QB to light up the scoreboard.

* I love to rewrite history and think, “What would have happened if…” One of my favorite scenarios for that is, “What would have happened if No. 2 West Virginia beat 4-7 Pitt in the 2007 Backyard Brawl?” Well, Rich Rodriguez would have been heading to the BCS title game and wouldn’t have gone to Michigan. Les Miles WOULDN’T have been heading to the BCS title game and may have gone to Michigan. LSU, of course, wouldn’t have won (or even played for) the championship because WVU would have been in. And Ohio State, meanwhile, might have beaten WVU, possibly altering the ensuing disparagement of the Big Ten. Another good what if: What if the Big 12 didn’t have a conference title game? Would MU have won it all in ’07? Would KSU have won it all at the turn of the century? Interesting stuff…

Anyway, what I meant to say about Texas was, What if Texas’ Blake Gideon intercepted Graham Harrell as the Raiders were marching in for the winning score against UT? Gideon, if you recall, had a ball deflect and hit him softly in the chest. Of course, the true freshman dropped it, allowing Tech’s Michael Crabtree to catch the game-winner a moment later. So, what if Gideon caught it? Texas likely goes to the BCS title game, and maybe they beat Florida, and maybe Tim Tebow – after a devastating title game loss – decides, You know, it’s time to move on. Maybe Colt McCoy leaves after winning the title (and the Heisman?). Who knows? I don’t, but it’s fun – for me, at least – to speculate.

** Speaking of that Oklahoma game, I wonder if that wasn’t a harbinger of what defenses will try to do to the spread this season. In that game, Brent Venables – OU’s D-coordinator – put together a hell of a plan to slow down Tech. What I recall vividly is that OU’s defensive players were looking to the sidelines before each snap, apparently to see if Venables wanted to signal in a new play and change the call.

Now, this is something that offenses do all the time: Line up and then look to the coaches to see if they want to change the call. KU and MU were among the first, and now Colorado and Oklahoma and all sorts of teams – especially in the Big 12 – do that on every single play. And when Venables said, “Hey, maybe we should do that on D,” it worked. Tech had scored 43, 63, 39 and 56 points the four weeks heading into Norman, but against OU Tech managed just 21 points. And it was worse than that – it was 42-7 at halftime.

Sure, maybe OU was just that much better athletically, and maybe the nighttime crowd got to Tech (after having just played UT and OSU at home). But maybe defenses are going to start mimicking the offenses and switching calls at the last moment, after they’ve gotten a look at how the offense lines up. Don’t be surprised if – along with more and more defensive backs on the field – KU, for one, is going to a base 4-2-5 on D – last-second changes on defense become all the rage in trying to stop these unstoppable defenses.

But still, despite the track record of the irrelevance of who is playing QB at Tech, people are writing off the Red Raiders because there is a new signal caller in town, this time Taylor Potts. The Star, SI, Sporting News. Everyone seems to think that Harrell’s departure is going to spell doom for Tech.

Hey…pssst…little secret: It doesn’t matter who the QB is.

Symons and Cumbie and Hodges – these guys weren’t big recruits and they didn’t do jack in the NFL. It’s not like Leach’s system was predicated on their brilliance. No, instead their brilliance was a direct result of Leach’s genius.

In the six seasons between 2003 and 2008, there were four different Tech QBs. And in each of those six seasons each of those QBs:

– Threw for between 5,833 and 4,238 yards, averaging 5,031

– Threw between 31 and 52 TDs

– Averaged between 7.4 and 8.2 yards per attempts

– Completed between 65.4 and 71.8 percent of their throws; in four of those six years, it was between 65.4 and 66.9 percent.

I forget who it was – maybe Todd Christensen from The Mountain Network – but someone said that Texas Tech’s offense really isn’t that complicated or hard to understand. That’s not to say anyone can run it, and certainly not many teams can stop it. Moreover, saying it isn’t hard isn’t a knock on Leach or Tech or the QBs who thrive there.

The point is that Tech’s success isn’t the result of a huge chess match that takes years to master. It’s the result of timing and precision and exhausting the defense. I think the fact that Mike Leach’s sideline playbook is nothing but a small piece of paper – the size of a 3X5 – speaks to the fact that, indeed, the offense isn’t complicated. It’s just well-designed. So well-designed, in fact, that whoever Leach has at QB will succeed in a big way.

Truth be told, maybe Tech will struggle this year. They do, after all, have to play Oklahoma, Texas and Oklahoma State – the latter two on the road. Plus they host Kansas and travel to Lincoln. There’s gotta be at least three or four losses right there. In addition, like I mentioned in Chapter 14, defenses are adjusting and trying new things. They haven’t figured it out yet, but Leach has been turning his tricks in the Big 12 for more than a decade. Teams are bound to catch up. (Right?)

But I’m telling you, Tech won’t struggle because the quarterback isn’t playing well and putting up huge numbers. Really, it doesn’t matter who the quarterback is. They’ll produce. Just watch.

Hiatus II

2009-08-23T01:41:00.002-05:00

OK, so we're still hiatus-ing here at the Fieldhouse. For that, I apologize.

But I was culling the archives, and I found some good posts that I recommend for anyone who's bored.

Here they is:

This is a statistic-heavy piece about Michigan State's dominance of the O-glass.

This is a piece about how Roy Williams' second title was...different than his first.

This is a piece about the importance of Sherron Collins and Cole Aldrich forgoing the NBA...

This is a piece about how bonkers the Washington Redskins backup quarterbacks are...

This is a piece about how fun it was when, in the '09 Playoffs, Hubie Brown and Mike Tirico called a LeBron game. It was a dorky dream come true...

Hiatus

2009-07-05T11:43:00.002-05:00

Want to explain myself for not posting up here in some time. The Fieldhouse is not closed for good, just for a little while. I will throw the doors open again sometime soon, however right now I am having trouble generating the type of quality blog posts that you and I have some to expect from the Fieldhouse.

To tide you over, you can take a look at some of these entries, each of which I think are pretty well written (and a few of which are damn long, if you're really bored or like to use this site as a procrastination device.)

About Mike Sweeney and steroids

About the "I didn't do steroids on purpose" excuse

About the San Antonio Spurs' reign finally being over*

* Since this was written, the Spurs dealt for Richard Jefferson and drafted DeJuan Blair, who seems NBA-ready -- at least "NBA-ready" in the sense that he can back up Tim Duncan and throw his weight around. So, I may have jumped the fun on the Spurs' demise...they probably have a few years left. We'll see.

A look back in time at when Zack Greinke and the Royals looked like they were legit...Greinke is still legit

Anyway, there's some stuff you may have missed. More coming eventually...

Stuff Watch, XIX

2009-06-10T09:37:00.005-05:00

The palpable slowdown in the Stuff Watch can be chalked up to two things. First, Vrani Fieldhouse subscription payments have slowed to a trickle, so I have had to pursue other sources of income, you know, like working. Culling the Internet for curious and funny mentions of the word "stuff" doesn't pay the bills.

But even more detrimental to the Stuff Watch, of course, has been the implosion of the Royals. The team has lost 10 of 11 and 22 of 28, the most recent meltdown coming last night in an error-plagued effort against then-last place Cleveland, who were overtaken (undertaken?) by the Royals for the AL Central cellar.

Wasted were a one-earned-run outing by Brian Bannister and a four-run lead. After letting the Blue Jays tie the game at four, Jamie Wright allowed a grand slam with the bases chucked with Juan Cruz's runners. It was a loss fitting of the Royals' first trip to last place in the AL Central.

There are, however, a few mentions of stuff that I think are worth noting. Notably, I'm pretty sure this is the first time all season that Bannister has been quoted saying stuff.

Oh, and on the dorky journalism front, something happened today that happened a few weeks ago with a Zack Greinke quote: The same Bannister quote about stuff appears considerably different in the KC Star than it does on MLB.com.

From The Star:

“The sixth inning was my fault,” Bannister said. “I had my good stuff working, and I really needed to punch out a guy in that inning. I let them make contact and put some pressure on us. I just need to step up and make bigger pitches.”

From MLB.com:

"The sixth inning was my fault," Bannister said. "I was punching guys out tonight, and I had my good stuff working. I really needed to punch out a guy in that inning, but I let them make contact."

While we're talking about stuff, I'll go ahead and throw in a stuff mention that slipped under the radar a few days ago, after Kyle Davies pitched a complete game.

"It was kind of like trying to throw a ball through a brick wall the first couple of innings," Davies said. "You don't locate it, but you try to put the best stuff you can on it. Major League hitters hit that, and you see the first three innings they did. And after that, I settled down and got through it. It was easy. My stuff actually got better after that. Something to build on."

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse. This is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley dodges media questions, go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Mike Brown's curious minute distribution against Orlando

2009-05-31T21:30:00.002-05:00

Mike Brown was the NBA’s best coach this season, and he has a Coach of the Year award to prove it. Unfortunately for the Cavs, he out-coached himself in the conference finals.

In an effort to beat an Orlando team that had given the Cavs fits this season, Brown ditched the rotation that fueled Cleveland’s march through the regular season. Curious substitution patterns abounded as the Cavs listlessly bowed out to the Magic.

Now, tinkering with minutes may seem inconsequential. But when you own the league’s best record, like Cleveland did, and you roll through the first two rounds of the playoffs uncontested, like Cleveland did, you have to wonder why you would change anything.

But Brown definitely changed things.

Consider: Delonte West’s minutes jumped from 33.6 in the regular season to 45 in the Orlando series. Daniel Gibson, who averaged 23.9 minutes in the regular season, played just 11.7 against the Magic (despite shooting 50 percent from three-point range). And Joe Smith logged 19.3 minutes per outing in the regular season, yet just 10 against the Magic.

Coaches futz around with minutes and player combinations all the time when they are trying to spring an upset. Cleveland, however, was not trying to spring an upset. The Cavs owned a league-best 66-16 record. The Cavs mercilessly slaughtered their first two playoff opponents. The Cavs lost one game at home all season. (Two if you count the starters-on-the-bench season finale against a Philadelphia team vying for playoff position.)

Indeed, the Cavs entered the Orlando series with the league’s best player, the league’s best home-court advantage, the league’s best record and, according to the media, the league’s best coach.

By most accounts, that means the Cavs entered the Orlando series as the league’s best team.

Yet someone forgot to tell Brown. In the words of a million wise men, women and children: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

But that’s exactly what Brown did. He curiously tried to fix this Cavs team. Now, it’s true that the Magic won two of three games versus Cleveland in the regular season, and that the Magic handed the Cavs their worst loss of the year. So obviously Orlando was no pushover.

Still, it just doesn’t make sense that Brown let the Orlando matchup so obviously disrupt what he and the Cavs had done all season. Only a handful of teams in NBA history had won more than 66 regular season games, and zero teams in NBA history had rolled through the first two rounds of the playoffs like the Cavs. They won their first eight playoff games by double figures, making for a pair of sweatless sweeps.

But along comes Orlando, and all of a sudden Brown sees it necessary to tinker.

Obviously there are justifications for Brown’s decision to give way more minutes to West and relegate Gibson and Smith to the bench. This is, after all, the playoffs, and your best players always see their minutes increase. In Los Angeles, for example, Kobe Bryant’s minutes went from 36 in the regular season to 42 in the conference finals. The Magic’s Rashard Lewis’ minutes jumped from 36.2 in the regular season to 42.4 versus the Cavs. And last season, Paul Pierce went from 35.9 in the regular season to 42.5 in the conference finals. So this isn’t unprecedented.

At the same time, though, the Cavs’ adjustments are a little harder to rationalize. First off, West is no Bryant or Lewis or Pierce. In fact, West, at 6-3, was at times quite the liability trying to guard Hedo Turkoglu, who’s 6-10. And Gibson and Smith are both capable scorers, something the Cavs decidedly lacked as they watched LeBron James labor by his lonesome.

As much as West’s 33 percent increase in minutes in this Orlando series can be read as an indictment on Brown, it is also an indictment on the Cavs’ roster, and the front office charged with assembling that roster. You could watch that series and ignore the score, the names and the stats, and one thing was still painfully obvious: The Cavs are short. Like Larry Bird-shorts short.

There is no way that the Cavs, whose best three-point threats are West (6-3) and Mo Williams (6-2), could match up with the Magic, whose two best three-point shooters are Lewis (6-9) and Turkoglu (6-10).

Nonetheless, it was still a little disconcerting to see Coach Brown ditch the rotation and philosophy that fueled an incredible regular season. The Cavs’ 66 wins weren’t a fluke. Sure, some of those wins were the product of indescribable LeBrilliance, but there was still a formula to their success. And that formula did not include West playing 44-plus minutes per game while Smith and Gibson watched from the bench.

It was Einstein who said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Well, Mike Brown has provided another example of insanity: Doing something different and expecting the same results.

Stuff Watch, XVIII

2009-05-26T08:09:00.005-05:00

Anyone who has been following the Stuff Watch knows that more often than not, I keep discussion of a pitcher's stuff confined to the Royals' roster. But after the Royals were thrashed 13-1 yesterday -- a day in which Gil Meche was decidedly stuff-less, getting yanked in the third -- there wasn't going to be much opportunity to laud any Royals' stuff.

But Justin Verlander -- his stuff was on point. He struck out eight Royals and leads the AL in Ks. What's more, he offered up what has to be a top-three stuff quote in the KC Star, Royal or no.

“After last year, not having my stuff,” Verlander said, “I was able to pitch a little better and get outs without my best stuff. After this spring, working hard and getting my stuff back, putting those two things together made me a better pitcher.”

I mean, that's pretty crazy. Willie Bloomquist would add:

“He had his stuff dialed up pretty good today. When he’s got it going, he’s tough. It’s not just us. You look at his numbers and what he’s been able to do so far this year, he’s been pretty tough on everybody.”

One more...

"When you get to face real good ones like Meche, you hope you face him on a rare off night," Tigers manager Jim Leyland said. "We caught Gil today where his stuff looked good but his command wasn't very good, and we caught a break."

I like this Leyland quote a lot because it shows how subjective the word stuff is. I laughed when I saw Meche say once that he had "good stuff but wasn't pitching well." I mean, what's good stuff if it doesn't translate to pitching well? Don't know. Well, Leyland's quote was similarly vague -- stuff but no command. I just don't get it.

As the All Star break nears, I am gearing up for the first-half dissertation on what stuff actually means. Days like today are great, even though looking at this Leyland quote, it's tough to tell what exactly people are talking about when they talk about stuff.

Kyle Davies' first inning woes

2009-05-25T11:32:00.006-05:00

My inferiority complex about writing about baseball has been well-documented here at Vrani Fieldhouse. I’ve never been too enamored with baseball in the first place, and the wealth of obscure statistics baffles me. What's more, there are plenty of people out there who both love baseball and understand the stats, which leaves me and my prose in the dust. You want to banter about basketball? College football? I could talk all day about those. Baseball, not so much.

But along came Michael Lewis’ Moneyball, enlightening me to some baseball philosophy and helping to decode some of the nuances about the sport and its endless statistics. I mean, BABIP!? Who would have thought!?

So between my relatively virgin knowledge of the sport and my concession that I don’t understand all of the minutiae, you will understand my timidity on days like today, when I stumbled upon a statistic that no one else has talked about. Rany and Sam Mellinger and all the rest of the Royals savants have yet to mention this, or at the very least I have yet to see them mention it.

But the principle and the math – I think – are sound, so now I’ll just throw it out there and see if anyone objects. (In this situation, more readership would be nice to help make sure that I am not issuing an invalid argument. But then again, some obscurity will veil my ignorance should this be a silly point to make. And because I am such a novice at baseball, I can’t always tell what’s a silly point to make.)

Anyway, too-long disclaimer now written, let’s get to the point: Kyle Davies and his horrible first innings.

Most of the season, Davies has been pretty solid – at least after the first inning. Yeah, he got shelled for six runs by the Chi Sox in just four innings a few starts back, and there was the seven-run, 5.1-inning outing against Detroit that resulted in a 9-1 loss in April.

But while consistently inconsistent, Davies still owns five “quality starts” in his nine starts this season. And Friday he was good in a losing effort to the Cardinals, pitching six innings with seven strikeouts and yielding just two runs (both in the first).

While the Royals have lost each of his last three starts, defeat can’t be pinned on Davies, at least not entirely. He went at least six innings in each of those three and gave up two, three and two earned runs, respectively. His 2-3 record and 4.78 ERA aren’t anything to get excited about, but Davies has looked, at times, like a solid No. 3 starter.

But for whatever reason, it seems to take Davies an inning to find himself on the mound. He simply doesn’t do that well in the first.

In his nine starts, Davies has given up six first-inning runs, and has twice been nicked up for two runs in the first. All told, his first-inning ERA is 6.00...much worse than his non-first-inning ERA. In his 43.2 other innings, Davies has conceded just 19 runs, good for an ERA of just 3.9. What’s more: Just a hair under 33 percent of his Davies' earned runs this season have come in those nine first innings, which comprise less than 20 percent of his total innings pitched.

The Royals are 1-3 in games in which Davies concedes a first-inning run, and 0-3 in games in which he concedes two earned runs in the first. KC is 3-1 in games in games where Davies gives up nada in the first.

So, in case you hadn't noticed, Kyle Davies is horrible in first innings. I don't know if this will improve, nor if this is at all unusual for pitchers. Common sense says that you would get worse as the game wears on, which is the exact opposite of Davies.

Like many things in baseball, I don't know exactly why Davies struggles so in the first. But when/if he figures out how to start hot, the Royals will boast an even better rotation.

Safe to say the Royals have survived Gordon injury

2009-05-20T12:36:00.005-05:00

You ever see the movie The Happening? If so, then you’ll know what I’m talking about, and if not, two things: You didn’t miss much. And if you still want to see it, despite that disclaimer, then the ensuing paragraph won’t ruin the movie for you. The plot, acting and melodrama may ruin the movie for you, but not this.

OK, so if you saw The Happening, like myself, you know that while it is by-and-large a waste of time, the scenes where people start offing themselves are pretty interesting. The one guy drives his car at 60 miles-per-hour right into a tree. People heave themselves off of rooftops. Others resort to guns, others to lynching, others to treating their bodies like cadavers. The rest of the movie – meh. But part of me – I think it was the 10-year-old part of me – did indeed enjoy those scenes.

Now, if I remember correctly, it was never like that in Kansas City when Royals third baseman Alex Gordon injured his hip. Not even when his hip went from “injured” to “needs surgery.” People weren’t acting all loony and desperate; there really wasn’t a palpable sense of doom.

But nonetheless, people were bumming. Not throw-myself-out-of-a-third-story-window bumming. More like we-were-supposed-to-contend-this-season bumming, which can be pretty bad too.

When the news broke on April 16 that Gordon needed surgery to repair an injury that had already relegated him to the DL, it was ominous. In fact, it really sucked. People took to the Internet more than they took to hanging themselves, but it was still a bummer. Especially because people thought there were big things on the horizon for the Royals, and because people thought Gordon was integral to those big things.

From the KC Star’s Sam Mellinger:

The Royals’ chances this season depended on a list of things to go their way, including a breakout season from Alex Gordon. They know they won’t get that now, not for a while, at least. Gordon will undergo surgery this morning to repair a tear in his right hip labrum.

Mellinger went on to say that “the Royals had hoped would be a catalyst for a much-improved offense…”

From Royals radio show host and blogger Rany Jazayerli:

The news about Gordon sucks any way you look at it – when the guy who I labeled the single most important player in determining the Royals’ playoff hopes goes out for half a season, there’s no way to spin that as a positive....

From the million-plus-hit Royals blog Royals Review:

What was looking like such a promising start now seems a little bit like the first fifteen minutes of a horror movie, where everyone's safe and happy and unconcerned.

In a stunning development, what initially looked like a minor injury to Alex Gordon is now much more serious. As reported on various outlets, Gordon will need hip surgery:

This is not good, not good at all.

But lo and behold, thanks to some shuffling, the Gordon injury hasn’t been much of a pain at all. The omnipresent Mark Teahen moved into Gordon’s position at third, which is where Teahen is most comfortable anyhow. And into the vacancy left by Teahen at second – where he is far less proficient – stepped Alberto Callaspo.

People have gotten pretty much what they expected from Teahen. He is hitting .295 with five homers. Plus he’s been solid – not great, but solid – at third. Basically, he’s been exactly what any reasonable fan would have expected. Maybe even a little better.

But Callaspo – he’s been borderline incredible. His numbers are deflating a bit, but hey, when you hit .379 in April with an on-base percentage of .432, there’s only one way to go. Even with the cold shower his bat has taken in the last couple of weeks, he is still hitting .338 on the year with a .392 OBP. Not bad for someone who played in just 130 games the last two seasons.

It’s impossible to predict exactly what Gordon would have done this season if he wasn’t hurt. But he hit just .260 last year with 16 homers and 59 RBI, and even if this was to be his “break out” campaign, which many people thought it would be, I don’t think his average would have jumped to .300. And even when Callaspo’s average levels off a bit, I reckon it’ll still be above .300.

It will be interesting to see what happens when Gordon returns to health. There will be a gluttony of players somewhere: Either at third, with Teahen and Gordon. Or at second, with Teahen and Callaspo. Or at right field, with Teahen and Jose Guillen. Basically, Teahen’s been too good this season to just sit him down and wait for someone else to get hurt. He figures to be in the lineup somewhere.

But if Teahen supplants Guillen in right, Guillen becomes a DH. Then what happens to Mike Jacobs, the current DH? Billy Butler is swinging too hot of a bat to take him off first, where Jacobs theoretically plays defense. Then between Butler, Guillen and Jacobs, you'll have one guy at first and two DHs left over. Hmm. Maybe an injury to someone else will make it a moot point.

Anyway, Gordon’s injury hasn’t been a death knell in the Royals season, like some thought that it may have been. Instead, the Royals will likely have a good kind of problem when Gordo returns: Too many players that deserve to be in the lineup. And that may lead to something that the Royals haven’t seen in a long while – a big mid-season trade. Time will tell.

But whatever happens, it's safe to say the Royals survived the Gordon injury. At least so far.

Rocky Mountain low: Denver plays well, still loses

2009-05-20T11:57:00.001-05:00

(Column also available here.)

The problem for the Denver Nuggets isn’t that they lost game one of the Western Conference Finals. Well, that’s kind of the problem – losses are always frowned upon, especially when four of them will end your season.

But what’s worse for the Nugs, or at least just as bad, is that they played as well as they could hope to play in their 105-103 defeat. What’s George Karl supposed to say before game two? Go play exactly like you did on Tuesday. Just win.

There’s a Simpsons episode where Bart is going to be held back in the fourth grade unless he does well on his final, so he studies his darndest in hopes of acing the all-important exam. He checks out books from the library. He locks himself in his room. He even falls asleep studying the night before the test. Basically, he tries his absolute best. But alas, he fails the test.

Well, last night the Nuggets were Bart Simpson. They did their best, played pretty solid all night, didn’t have any cringe-inducing plays or stats. And still they came up short.

All you can really ask for in the postseason is for your players to play at least as well as they did in the regular season – and for your stars to play better. For the most part, that’s exactly what the Nuggets did. Carmelo Anthony flirted with a playoff career high. And despite falling two points short of that mark, he still had an outstanding game: 14 of 20 from the floor for 39 points, four of five from downtown, six boards, four assists and 18 bumps/grabs of Kobe Bryant that inspired Kobe’s condescending glare at the refs.

(Seriously, after Kobe gets done lifting weights and practicing jumpers, does he park himself in front of a mirror and fine-tune that scowl? It’s a move he uses every game, and for someone who is reputed to have a psycho work ethic, I bet Kobe has put in some serious hours honing that look.)

And Kenyon Martin – who usually sends a fingernails-on-the-chalkboard sensation down my spine – was solid last night as well. He averaged 11.7 points and six rebounds during the regular season, and while that may be the worst line in history for someone who makes $14.5 million, he showed up big-time against the Lakers. He had 15 and eight, plus two of everything else: two steals, two blocks, two assists (and two turnovers).

What’s also telling is that the Lakers frontcourt of Pau Gasol, Andrew Bynum and Lamar Odom combined for just 26 points. So Martin also earned his keep on D.

All the other Nugs were good too. At least good enough. Nene had an efficient 14 points on six of nine shooting. Chris Andersen had eight points, five boards and his standard pair of blocks. Chauncey Billups had 18 and eight.

The only thing you could nitpick about the Nuggets night, I guess, is Billups’ performance. Much has been made of LA’s point guards, that they are as much of a drag on the Lakers as Sarah Palin was on the Republican ticket.

Derek Fisher was in the league before Your-Mama jokes were invented, and Jordan Farmar scored a total of two points in the Lakers’ opening-round win over Utah. Farmar has been so underwhelming this season that he was supplanted by Shannon Brown, the same Shannon Brown who has played for three teams in his three-year NBA career. Yet Billups didn’t really dominate. Sure, he got 18 points, but he was just two of seven from downtown, and both of those makes came late in the fourth quarter.

Still though, to complain about Billups’ 18 points (on just 13 shots) and eight assists is simply trying to find some way to rationalize this loss. And there really isn’t a good way to rationalize it.

Last night’s game was a lot like game one of the Phoenix-San Antonio first-round series last season. Remember that game? The Suns were up by three in overtime, in San Antonio, when Tim Duncan hit his first three-pointer of the season to force double-OT. The Spurs, of course, won the game and the series.

The prevailing attitude after that fateful loss – in which the Suns played plenty well to win but still didn’t – was that the psychological sting of losing a series-opening game that the Suns should have won would be too much to overcome. And it was.

Now, there was no Hail Mary three-pointer in the Nuggets’ loss to LA. But there was an underdog that could have – should have – stolen game one on the road, and an underdog that ultimately fell short.

All Denver can do in game two is play like they did in game one. That, and hope that this time it’s enough to win.

Stuff Watch, XVII

2009-05-16T11:41:00.006-05:00

With Zack Greinke pitching last night, it was a foregone conclusion that writers, players and managers would be talking about Greinke's stuff. It was just a matter of how much.

Greinke had what you'd have to consider a pedestrian outing: He gave up one run in seven innings, sending his ERA skyward to 0.60. In addition, he struck out just six and walked two; those two walks account 20 percent of Greinke's season total. An off night, indeed.

But the funny thing: He had one of his least impressive starts of the year, and he still pitched seven near-flawless innings.

I loved the way that The KC Star rehashed the evening. Joe Posnanski and Bob Dutton each talked about Greinke's stuff in the opening paragraphs of their stories Saturday*.

* I had a story in Saturday's Star, too. Semi-pro women's golf, anyone?

Dutton opened:

Zack Greinke did what aces do Friday night by conjuring up seven strong innings when the Royals needed it most. Did it without his best stuff, too.

Didn’t matter.

And from Poz:

In some ways, this was the most impressive game of all. Zack Greinke did not have his best stuff Friday night. He could not pinpoint his pitches — he had his first two walks in the month of May. He felt himself working too hard. He did not get the electric atmosphere everyone had expected. He got into some pitch-count trouble and did not throw his fifth complete game of the season.

Interesting side note, and I bet you I am the only person in the city (or the world, for that matter) who realized this. To me it's fascinating. OK, so the preceding quote is from the print edition of The Star. As you can see, Poz makes immediate mention of Greinke's stuff. Fair enough, right?

But if you look at the online version, the first two sentences are:

In some ways, this was the most impressive game of all. Zack Greinke did not always look his best Friday night.

Hmm. Did The Star change the verbiage around because Dutton used the word stuff in his article? Why in print did it say Greinke "did not always have his best stuff," and then online it said Greinke "did not always look his best"? I'm not saying it's bad or anything, and grammatically it's sound. Just interesting.

I am becoming more and more assured in wasting time, energy and space on this Stuff Watch because of little quirks like that. That's not as interesting as when Gil Meche said that he had good stuff but wasn't pitching well -- what does that mean?!?! -- but that difference between the paper and the print edition was...quirky.

Anyway, there was this from mlb.com:

"He's got great stuff. He just mixes up his pitches and he kept everything away today," said the Orioles' Nick Markakis, who was 0-for-3 against Greinke. "You have to tip your hat to him. He's on a roll."

***

Other recent references to stuff, not from today:

John Hart, speaking on the MLB Network, recently described Greinke as "like Greg Maddux, but with better stuff."
. . .

The issues surrounding Hochevar have always been the peripherals: consistency, pace and command.

“There were times when Luke would just get going too fast,” pitching coach Bob McClure once said. “It was like he was pitching with the house on fire. When that happens, he just needs to slow down and take a deep breath.

“The stuff is there.”

. . .

Plus, we can at least entertain the possibility that Ponson, who has made just 15 relief appearances in his career, will see his stuff improve in short stints and be far more effective as a reliever than he was as a starter. Hey, it’s worked for Jamey Wright and Robinson Tejeda.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse. This is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley dodges media questions, go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Wistfully wondering about Mike Sweeney and steroids

2009-05-13T09:19:00.006-05:00

I am going to do some things in this column* that I don’t like doing. First, I am going to incessantly reference other, better writers. I am going to link to their articles and vainly hope that you aren’t so enchanted with their magical prose that I become an afterthought. I am going to call upon their services to help explain things that, frankly, I don’t know if I have the chops to explain by myself.

But worse than all that, I am going to float steroid suspicions about Mike Sweeney.

*What is, by the way, the difference nowadays between a column and blog post? There is an air of pomposity to calling blog rants “columns,” but there is something inaccurate about calling a 2,500-plus word column like today’s simply a “blog post.” I don’t know where the delineation is. If you do, let me know.

I don’t like using steroids and Mike Sweeney in the same sentence. Even though we’re only talking about Vrani Fieldhouse here, this post/column will still pop up on search engine queries about “mike sweeney” and “steroids.” And that may not be fairest thing in the world.

Especially because I have no proof, none, that Sweeney ever did steroids. I have never talked to him or any of his former teammates about this. Come to think of it, I’ve never talked to an MLB baseball player period, so I will take this opportunity, nice and early, to put an asterisk on this whole Sweeney suspicion.

Instead, this column/post is simply about a light and some bells that went off in my head yesterday. I was flipping through KC Star columnist Joe Posnanski’s book The Good Stuff – a sort of sports writing Bible – and came across a column he pinned about Mike Sweeney back in July of 2000. It is titled “The Nicest Guy In Sports.”

***

Poz’s story, of course, is money. I can see it displayed years from now in some sports writing museum with a tour guide expounding, And here we have a vintage Posnanski, KC Star, circa 2000, full bodied, thousands of words, human interest – everything you expect from a Posnanski.

But ironically, reading that article piqued my suspicion about Sweeney and steroids.

You see, Posnanski wrote another killer article, about Manny Ramirez, last fall after Ramirez’s trade to LA. It was one of the gushiest pieces you’ll ever read about a anyone, especially Manny. Titled “The Genius of Manny Ramirez,” it opens:

The following column is dedicated to the admittedly bizarre proposition that one Manuel Aristides (Onelcida) Ramirez, sometimes known as Man-Ram or Manny Being Manny or just plain Manny, is a genius….

Posnanski didn’t get 35 words in before he called Ramirez a genius. Later, he used an Aristotle quote to describe Manny’s genius. Then he used an F. Scott Fitzgerald quote to describe Manny’s genius. And what’s just as telling: He used his own words to describe Manny’s genius. He talked about how Manny turned a sub-.500 team into a World Series contender. How Manny was hitting more than .400 with his new squad. How ManRam is a baseball “Mozart.” How “the more you see him as a hitter, the more in awe you become.”

Basically, the article is about how Manny Ramirez is a downright genius. It was, in some ways, like the article Posnanski wrote about Mike Sweeney. Different, sure, but similarly glowing.

Now, of course, Ramirez’s genius is under review. Red Sox fans may be pondering the validity of those World Series, kids are a little less likely to pretend to be Manny in the front yard, and sports writers – even first-team All-American sports writers like Posnanski – have been forced to rethink the flowery things they wrote about the guy not long ago.

Recalling how enchanted Posnanski had been with Ramirez last fall, I was eager and curious to see what Poz would write when the news broke last week about Ramirez testing positive for PEDs. Or if he just wouldn’t touch it.

Of course, he did touch it. The column was titled:

“MannyBManny: Positive drug test comes as a big surprise”

Opening line:

So, now it’s MannyBManny. Well, can’t say I saw that one coming.

Far cry from genius.

But it’s not like Posnanski was the only one fooled. Now that we’re a few years into steroid and PED testing, it’s safe to say that either a) we were all fooled, or b) those among us who weren’t fooled sure weren’t barking very loud.

To me, it’s extra instructive that Poz was fooled because, well, he is a genius. A real one, not a chemically-induced one. Now, he may get loopy on coffee before he churns out his X,000-word columns, but if writers weren’t allowed to drink coffee, there would be problems. I bet Joe Posnanski is genius even when the coffee wears off. He was named sports writer of the year by the Associated Press Sports Editors, has won national awards, has had two cover stories in Sports Illustrated in the last six months, is the author of a pair of sports books. Plus, more to the point, he’s just damn good.

But think about it: If Posnanski had blinders on, my God, who didn’t? And if he was fooled by Manny, might he have been fooled by Sweeney?

***

Another quality writer who I read religiously – and who you should, too, just as soon as you finish this post/column! – is Bill Simmons of ESPN.com. Simmons, as you may know, is an unabashed Red Sox fan, and he waxed eloquently and sadly about the news of Manny’s cheating. In a mock dialogue between him and his son, taking place in 2014, Simmons writes,

You don't understand what it was like to follow baseball before you were born. There was a strike in 1994, and the World Series was canceled. Everyone hated baseball. Then Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa started hitting homers, and the balls started flying out of the park, and it was so much fun that everyone looked the other way. We didn’t care that these guys were practically busting out of their skin or growing second foreheads. We really didn’t. All the cheating made baseball more fun to watch. We were in denial. It was weird.

Then, Barry Bonds hit 73 home runs in a season, and that was like the turning point. We realized that things had gone too far. We blamed him for cheating and looked the other way with dozens of other guys who might have been doing the same thing. Brady Anderson hit 50 homers in 1996; we didn't care. Bret Boone had 141 RBIs in a season; we didn't care. Big Papi went from 10 homers to 41 in four seasons; we didn’t care. Roger Clemens was washed up, but suddenly he could throw 98 miles per hour and win Cy Youngs again; we didn’t care. Eric Gagne saved 84 straight games and threw 120 miles an hour; we didn’t care. Good players started blowing out tendons nobody had ever heard of; we didn’t care. Pitchers blew out elbow tendons and shoulder ligaments routinely; we didn’t care. This was the deal. They cheated; we pretended they didn’t. It’s really hard to explain unless you were there….

EVERYONE cheated back then. You know how I drive 80 on the highway even though all the signs say to go 55? That's how everyone thought back then -- the signs said one thing, but everyone did the other. There were so many people cheating that, competitively, you almost had to cheat to keep up with everyone else.*

* I just realized that Posnanski and Simmons, probably my two favorite sports writers, are the two wordiest sports writers I can think of. These guys’ Internet articles can turn into novellas. The motto of Posnanski’s blog is “Curiously Long Posts,” and in that Manny column, Simmons quipped that it took his son a week to read one of his previous articles. Is that why I still haven’t gotten to the stuff about Mike Sweeney??? Oh, wait, here it comes…

And I guess, finally, this is where Mike Sweeney comes in.

Now that so many guys have been busted, and now that the true pervasiveness of steroids and PEDs is coming into focus, it sure seems like Mike Sweeney was juiced for a while there when he was with the Royals.

****

I hesitate to call the following points evidence. Evidence is a word that can carry some weight, and I can’t stress enough that I am merely raising the specter or Sweeney and steroids; I’m not holding some smoking gun or dripping syringe. So maybe this isn’t evidence. But it is at least a series of points, arguments maybe, that make me wonder about Sweeney.

First, look at the span in which Sweeney was most successful: 1999 to 2002. It was the heart of the Steroid Era, starting one year after McGwire and Sosa, and ending one year after Bonds. Sweeney had some decent seasons after that, but ’99-’02 was when he put up his four highest batting averages and four highest slugging percentages and four highest OPS numbers.

So that was the undisputed climax of Sweeney’s career, and it happened to coincide with the climax of cheating in baseball. (Like that tree in the woods, is it really cheating if everybody does it?)

Second, look at the numbers themselves:

1999: 22 home runs and 102 RBI, .322 BA and .520 SLG
2000: 29 home runs and 144 RBI, .333 BA and .523 SLG.
2001: 29 home runs and 99 RBI, .304 BA and .542 SLG.
2002: 24 home runs and 86 RBI, .340 BA and .563 SLG.

Those numbers alone may not strike you. But this is pretty stunning:

In 2000, Sweeney led the AL in RBI with 144. Some other names in the top 10: Jason Giambi (admitted to steroids), Alex Rodriguez (steroids), Manny Ramirez (fertility drugs or whatever), Miguel Tejada (appears in Mitchell Report) Magglio Ordonez (accused of steroid use by Jose Canseco).* Those guys make up the first three chapters of Who’s Who in Steroid Era Baseball.

* It is counterintuitive to say, but right now, Canseco may be one of the most credible people in baseball.

In 2001, Sweeney was fifth in the AL in slugging percentage behind: Jason Giambi (busted!), Jim Thome, Rodriguez and Manny.

In 2002, Sweeney was sixth in the AL in slugging behind: Thome, Ramirez, Rodriguez, Giambi, Ordonez, all of whom besides Thome have been implicated with steroids.

And then compare those ’99-’02 number to Sweeney’s numbers prior to 1999. He was a career .258 hitter and had never hit better than .279 before that .322 season in 1999. He had never had a slugging percentage better than .412, and then it suddenly jumped more than 100 points to .520.

And of course the PED Era’s money stat: Home Runs. In Sweeney’s first four seasons, he had 19 homers in 691 at-bats, which equates to a home run 2.74 percent of the time. In the next four seasons, Sweeney hit 104 dingers in 2,223 at-bats, which equates to a home run 4.67 percent of the time. He hit 5.5 times as many home runs in only about 3.2 times as many at-bats.

Third, look at what’s happened since Sweeney exploded. From 1999 to 2002, Sweeney played in an average of 145.5 games. From 2003 to 2007, Sweeney played in an average of 94 games, including just 134 in ’06 and ’07 combined.*

* I stopped the tabulation after 2007 because that was the last season Sweeney played with the Royals, and therefore the last season that I can rest assured he wasn’t sitting out of the lineup because there was someone better. When Sweeney missed games with the Royals, he missed them because he was hurt or needed time off. He was never playing behind anyone here.

But for the record, he only played in 42 games last season, and many of those were pinch-hitting ventures; he had 126 at-bats on the year. This season he has appeared in 18 games and batted 61 times.

Remember in Simmons’ article how he kept talking about injuries being a telltale sign of juicing? Well, Sweeney fits the mold. In 2006 a bad back relegated him to DH – and only 60 games – and in 2007 he didn’t play a single game from June 18 to Aug. 31 because of injuries. He finished 2007 having played in 74 games, and hit just .260.

In Sweeney’s defense, injuries aren’t only a telltale sign of ‘roids. They’re a telltale sign of aging, too. But at the same time, he was only 32 in 2006 when he began to fall apart. It is conjecture, I know, to equate these injuries with steroids. It is not at all farfetched though.

***

If Sweeney did do steroids in the BTE (Before Testing Era), then that doesn’t make him a bad guy. That doesn’t take away the things that inspired the title of Posnanski’s column: The Nicest Guy In Sports. Steroids wouldn’t nullify the fact that Sweeney is a devout Catholic, or that he would sign every single autograph even when he was an All Star, or that he would call manager Tony Muser “Sir.” You can be a heck of a person and still do drugs. Seriously.

So if Sweeney did do steroids, it doesn’t automatically change who the guy is and what he stands for. Some people would say it changes everything; I’m not one of those people. I would call it lame, sure, and I would call it what it is – cheating. But I would also point out that, well, everyone was doing it. Does that make it right? Hell, no. But it would make it explicable, if not excusable.

Let’s end this column/post/article/rant where we started it, with Posnanski. For as idealistic as that original “Manny is a genius” article seems now, his post-PED Manny article rings true:

But now that he [Manny] has tested positive, well, it just takes us one step closer to that inevitable conclusion that we should have come up with a long time ago: We’re just not going to be able to pick out drug users by deduction.

Joe’s right. Deduction isn’t going to cut it. Which means that steroids may not have dictated the oh-so-familiar arc of Sweeney’s career. Steroids may not be the reason Sweeney went from a pedestrian batter to a prolific run-producer, or the reason his career peaked at that steroid-drenched moment in baseball history, or that he has since become what he was before 1999 – a decent player, but certainly no All Star.

But Joe is right in another way too. Since deduction is futile, then just because Sweeney was (and is) a good guy doesn’t mean he was clean. Being likeable and genuine and real doesn’t preclude him or anyone from doping.

We’ll likely never know if Sweeney took performance-enhancing drugs. If he did, then it’s sad he cheated. And if he didn’t, then it’s sad that, anymore, you have to wonder about everyone, even Sweeney.

You even have to wonder about The Nicest Guy In Sports.

The NBA: Where LeBron's brilliance getting announced by Mike Tirico and Hubie Brown happens

2009-05-10T18:22:00.007-05:00

It is hard to quantify why we feel the way we do about our favorite sports broadcasters. What strikes your ear as brilliant may strike the next guy’s ear as bone-headed.

For example, my friend disparagingly calls Brent Musburger a “master of the obvious.” My buddy feels like Brent gets too excited over things that are plain as day. And that first down will move the chains and keep this drive alive!! And now the offense takes the field, and I'm telling you, watch out now!!

Interesting, because I once heard college football guru Todd Christensen say that he liked Musburger because, as Christensen put it, “Every game is Armageddon to this guy.” That same incessant aggrandizement of the obvious that irks my buddy is seen as, oh, endearing to Christensen. (Awesome, over-the-top Musburger available here. This could be used to justify either side of the argument.)

And then there’s Ron Franklin. I’m big on Ron Franklin. He called one of the great games I have ever seen, the 1997 LSU-Florida battle in Baton Rouge, and I have been a fan ever since.

But when I was once touting Franklin as one of the great voices of our time, someone interrupted me and dubbed Franklin a near-fraud because he makes so many mistakes. And that’s true: He does make mistakes. Like, a lot of mistakes. Stuff like calling VMI “Virginia Tech,” or calling KU’s Marcus Morris “McMorris.”

Nonetheless, I still like Franklin. Yeah, he may have the occasional flub. But Mike Jacobs will have the occasional horrid strikeout; it doesn’t nullify his occasional brilliance. Same goes with Franklin: he swings and misses sometimes, but sometimes he is borderline savant.

So some people are annoyed by the same voices that, to different ears, can make a good game great, a fun game epic. But there is one broadcasting tandem that I have found overwhelming approval of: Hubie Brown and Mike Tirico. The ESPN/ABC team of Tirico and Brown is a big-time outfit, and for the benefit of all mankind, they have been delegated to NBA playoff duty the past few years. And then, the cherry on top: Last night they did the Cavs game. LeBron. The best player with the best announcing duo around.

These two are great for several reasons. Tirico is young and sharp and articulate and never botches anything, and Hubie Brown is more adlibbing, more rambling, more old-man. It is a good combo, maybe as good as camping and beer, or baseball and beer, or holidays and beer.

Tirico can navigate the course of a game with a composed intellect, but, if the time is right, he can also act like a 12-year-old after a café latte. People talk about how great LeBron and Wade and Kobe are because they know when they need to do something extra; they can sense when their team needs a jolt, and they can deliver. Same with Tirico: He is a stellar general on the mic 98.5 percent of the time, but if need be, he’ll get juiced, like seemlessly dropping a BMW from fourth to third, giving you that extra little bump.

And Brown is special in his own right. He teeters on constant excitement, he laughs a lot – including at himself – and he, more than any other national broadcaster I know of, invokes statistics. He explains the game and his hoops philosophy via statistics. If someone like Josh Smith hits a 17-foot jumper, Hubie will say, “OK, if you’re playing Josh Smith, you live with that, OK? You got Josh Smith, and you know he doesn’t shoot a high percentage outside the paint, and you know that he is going to miss the vast majority of those shots, OK? So on average, over the course of a game, you’re better off him shooting that. Even though he made that last one, you live with it, OK?”*

* Someone recently pointed out to me that Hubie says “You” all the time, and it’s true. When you pay attention, you realize this, and you may get a little annoyed at it. But it’s nothing that can’t be overlooked, especially when that little colloquialism – however frequent – is buried amid a mountain of astute observations and statistical analysis.

So obviously it was something else last night when the best broadcast duo called the best player in the world. Tirico and Brown were in Hotlanta for game three of the Cavs-Hawks series, calling LeBron’s brilliance. Brilliantly, I might add.

Like I said earlier, it’s sometimes hard to pinpoint exactly what it is about sports voices that makes you like them. But it is not hard at all to pinpoint what is so great about LeBron James.

Efficiency: In round one against Detroit, James had 128 points on 77 shots, which is about 1.7 points per shot. In three games of round two, it’s 108 points on 59 shots, or about 1.8 points per shot. He is shooting better than 55 percent in the playoffs.

Let us look at these numbers compared to Kobe Bryant, who people still, for some reason, call the Best Player in the World. I can’t stand when people says that. It was true a few years ago, maybe even last year, but no more. Kobe's simply not better anymore, whatever measure you want to use.

Anyway, Kobe is shooting 47 percent, eight points lower than LeBron. And what’s more: LeBron had 236 points through seven playoff games on 136 shots; Kobe had 242 points on 189 shots. Six extra points on 53 extra shots.

Complete Player: Bron-Bron has 70 rebounds in seven games and is averaging 6.6 assists. Kobe had 45 boards through seven games and is averaging 5.4 assists.

Does things that are just cool: If you missed game two of the Atlanta series, tisk tisk. That’s when I realized that it would be a mortal sin, and not just a grave sin, to miss LeBron right now. I sat there trying to write with the game on in the background, but every time I buried my nose in the keyboard, Bron would do something that sent the crowd and announcers into a tizzy.

Examples: At the end of the first quarter, he runs down the clock and then does a reverse jam at the buzzer...out of a half-court set...when everyone knew he’d be shooting it. And then at the end of the second quarter, LeBron shoots a step-back fadeaway three. One could be forgiven for thinking that LeBron was just messing with the Hawks at that point, because it sure seemed like he could have gotten a better shot than the one he ended up taking. He took it anyway, though, and of course made it. Kobe’s had a great playoff thus far, but he isn't doing the unimaginable. Just hitting a bunch of jumpers.

There is something special about the way LeBron is playing right now. His outlandish stats don’t even tell the story. I mean, look at game two against Atlanta, and you see LeBron only hit nine shots. But one of them was a quarter-ending reverse dunk, and one of them was a 40-foot fadeaway at the halftime buzzer. Another was an alley-oop from Mo Williams. Another was a silly scoop-shot lay-up. Seriously, it’s a travesty to miss him right now.

I didn’t take notes on the specifics of why the Tirico-Brown-James game was so good last night, but it sure was. The only thing I vividly remember is when James, at some point during his 47-point, 12-rebound, eight-assist masterpiece, hit this fadeaway from the right baseline. It was pretty much a HORSE shot: LeBron almost lost the ball, tracked it down, squared up in midair and lofted a beauty through the net.

At that point, Tirico said emphatically, as though he were admonishing a child, “Oh, now just stop it!”

Sure, LeBron is a show in himself. But it was a sports dork’s thrill to witness LeBron called by Tirico and Brown. Those two form the best announcing team in the NBA (in sports?), and LeBron is the best basketball player in the world right now (ever?).

The 15-point Cavs win wasn’t the best battle of the playoffs, but because of the announcers, it was the best game. At least the best to watch on TV.

Stuff Watch, XVI

2009-05-10T12:33:00.006-05:00

Nothing like a little Zack Greinke to get the praise flowing again. Greinke had one of the best losses you'll ever see last night. Even though his ERA ballooned to 0.51, he still gave up just one run in eight innings. Four hits, zero walks, five strikeouts. Brilliant loss, for sure.

And needless to say, it had people talking afterward. The KC Star and MLB.com each wrote game recaps that contained laudatory remarks about Greinke's stuff.

From The Star:

“My stuff was all right,” Greinke said. “Can’t complain. But not good enough. Tough game.”

(The AP used this same quote, but wrote it a little differently:

"[My stuff] was all right -- I can't complain but not good enough," said Greinke, who had three-ball counts on six of the first seven batters he faced. "It was a tough game."

The same quote, but not exactly the same quote. As a journalism dork, I find that sort of stuff interesting.)

Back to The Star:

“We got the one run,” Angels manager Mike Scioscia said, “and Joe made it hold up. Greinke, this guy is legit.

“He has great stuff, and he pitched a great ballgame. The only way to beat great pitching is to match them pitch for pitch.”

From MLB.com:

"I've always thought he had good stuff," Gary Matthews said, "but his record coming in -- 6-0, 0.40 -- that was unreal. I was curious to see what he'd done to get to where he is....

. . .

"Zack didn't even have the stuff we've seen in previous outings but he did a great job of pitching with what he had," Hillman said. "He didn't have the same extra life to the fastball, nor to the slider. He did a great job."

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse. This is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley dodges media questions, go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Testing positive for excuses

2009-05-08T20:45:00.002-05:00

The worst part wasn’t hearing that Manny Ramirez was baseball’s newest Hall of Shame inductee. The worst part wasn’t that yet another baseball icon, hands down one of the game’s captivating and entertaining players, was added to the growing list of greats linked to performance-enhancing drugs.

No, the worst part was Man-Ram’s response to getting busted, a response that has become pervasive when dudes dope. It’s not hard to patch together the piece’s of Ramirez’s lame excuse. According to a release, there was a “personal health issue,” Ramirez recently “saw a physician,” he was given “a medication, not a steroid,” and he didn’t know that “the medication was banned under our drug policy.”

That Manny went with this argument was, to me, worse than hearing about the offense itself. Not that taking immediate responsibility makes it OK. It’s just hard to listen to athletes who invoke this defense. From Rafael Palmieiro to Shane Merriman and now to Ramirez, the Whoops! line is getting intolerable.

Ingesting a banned substance means one of two things. First option: You are lying through your teeth. Second option: You’re being honest, but only after being so incomprehensibly negligent as to pop pills or rub creams or push plungers that you hadn’t thoroughly researched.

Either way, any athlete that uses this excuse should be banned not only for the drugs, but also for either (a) gross negligence, or (b) unabashed lying.

We’ve seen this baloney before. The San Diego Chargers’ Merriman was suspended four games by the NFL in 2006 for a positive banned-substance test. Naturally, Merriman wasn’t cheating. No, no, no. He simply tested positive for something called nandrolone, which his lawyer clarified was found in one of Merriman’s legal supplements.

Merriman’s attorney had this to say in his client’s defense: “He has been playing, unwittingly, Russian roulette with his career because he’s been taking the same supplements, and it has been subjected to testing, and hasn't yielded a positive test. So he thought the supplements that he was taking were as safe.”

Either that’s bullspit, or a person whose livelihood is invariably tied to his physical well-being is “playing Russian roulette” with his body and career. That’s like a hand-model using a nail-gun. In any case, neither of those scenarios is defensible. And whether it’s a lie or an act of professional incompetence, Merriman’s four-game suspension for banned substances should have been padded with an additional suspension for not telling the truth/not thinking…whichever it was.

Now, I have a particular bias against Merriman because he caused a spinal cord injury to the Kansas City Chiefs’ Priest Holmes, one of my favorite players of all-time. So admittedly, I loathe Merriman, and the thought that he was jacked on PEDs when he effectively ended Holmes’ career makes me sick.

But he’s not alone. Former baseball star Rafael Palmeiro got busted for using steroids in 2005, promptly asserting that he must have unwittingly ingested them from a non-prescription supplement he was taking. “All of us have to be responsible and exercise extreme care in what we put in our body,” Palmeiro would say later. After he took steroids.

And then this week, Manny Ramirez gets busted with some illicit chemical, and it’s the same old song and dance. Yes, I failed the test, but it was an honest mistake. Seriously.

I have always appreciated Ramirez’s game. He was so good at the plate that his horrible fielding was just, well, sort of funny. Like a four-year-old trying to shoot baskets on a 10-foot hoop. He did things at the plate that were hard to fathom; he’d create these magical expectations by playing incredible baseball, and then he’d exceed those expectations. He hit .396 in 53 games with the Dodgers last season, and then hit .520 in playoffs. He’s had an OPS over 1.000 in five of his 10 playoff appearances, two of which ended in World Series wins. He’s a 12-time All-Star, a Series MVP and has led the AL in batting average, home runs and RBI in different seasons. Now, it’s all a little weird.

But again, the worst part for me about Manny’s bust isn’t that a likeable player’s rep is semi-tarnished. It’s not the new curiosity over how legit his numbers really are. It’s not any shadow this may cast on the 2004 Red Sox’s heart-warming run. The worst part about it is the excuse, that old, tired, “I didn’t know” excuse.

If he really didn’t know, then that’s senseless. And if he did know, then that’s lying. Either way, that should be an additional suspension.

Random musings on 2003 Chiefs...don't ask why

2009-05-08T16:51:00.002-05:00

For no good reason, my thoughts, six years later, on the 2003 Chiefs!

When you’re really in love, you even love the shortcomings. You accept the good with the bad, the sickness with the health, the gaffes with the genius

But you have to embrace everything about your beloved if it’s the Real Thing, not just the good stuff. And that’s why I can say that my truest Kansas City Chiefs love affair was with the 2003 squad. They were maddening, sure, but also breathtaking, exhilarating, the best show in football – despite falling weeks short of the Super Bowl. Even if the Chiefs, under new GM Scott Pioli and new coach Todd Haley, turn into a championship contender, I will have a hard time being as enthralled by any Chiefs team – Super Bowl or no – like I was with that ‘03 edition. And not just despite their flaws. Because of them, too.

The 2003 Chiefs were prodigious – in good and bad ways. Priest Holmes tallied 2,110 yards from scrimmage, but the Chiefs were 30th in the league in rush defense. The Chiefs didn’t have to punt the ball a single time in their playoff loss to the Colts, but then again, neither did Indy. They averaged more than 30 points per game, but gave up at least 34 points four times. Indeed, to love the 2003 Chiefs is to love a split-personality, a mercurial team. It was a 13-3 team that didn’t win a playoff game, a team with home-field advantage that didn’t take advantage, a team that is my favorite of all time, even though they packed a wicked punch of heartache.

When it was good, though, boy was it good. Look at Week 5. That was the Hall punt return game, one of the great plays in NFL history. Trailing by six with less than seven minutes left, Hall fielded a punt inside his own 10 and proceeded to juke the entire Broncos roster. A 23-17 deficit turned into a 24-23 win on the strength of that (Dante) Hall of Fame play.

Then there was Week 6. The Chiefs were down 31-14 at the end of the third quarter, at Lambeau Field. But a late pick-six by Jerome Woods and an overtime fumble by Ahman Green set up the game-winning 51-yard TD strike to Eddie Kennison. The Chiefs gave up 34 points, but who cares? They scored 40.

Or what about Week 8, when the Chiefs ran their record to 8-0 with a 38-5 drubbing of the Bills. That was a chilly Sunday night game, and the Chiefs (and Arrowhead crowd) were ready for the limelight. Amid a cacophony that I was lucky enough to be a part of, the Chiefs reeled off a 28-3 run from about 6:00 to go in the first quarter through halftime. The Chiefs went undefeated at home during the 2003 regular season, and that game was a case study in why: The crowd was bonkers, and the team was operating at a pace that couldn’t possibly be matched.

There were other great games. In Week 12, Morten Andersen eked a 35-yard field goal over the crossbar to break a 24-24 tie with four seconds left. Week 17 was a 31-3 season-ending party at Arrowhead, a prelude to the playoffs and a celebration of a team that had put together arguably the best season in Chiefs history.

And heck, even the playoff game was fun. Yeah, the Chiefs lost at home to the Colts 38-31 in their first game, extending a post-season winless streak that started in 1994. (It’s still in tact, by the way.) But like I said earlier, you have to take the good (offense) with the bad (defense). The Chiefs couldn’t slow down Indianapolis, but Indy couldn’t stop the Chiefs, either. Holmes had 176 yards rushing, Dante Hall had an electric kickoff-return TD, the atmosphere before and during the game was chill-inducing – even if the mood afterward was heart-breaking.

Those 2003 Chiefs were descendants of the 1999-2001 St. Louis Rams – The Greatest Show on Turf. Those Rams put up outlandish numbers under coach Dick Vermeil, who presided over the Rams during their nutty three-year span from 1999-2001. In 2003, the fruits of Vermeil’s move to the other side of Missouri were realized. The 2003 Chiefs compare well with those Rams teams. Kansas City had 484 points that season – more than 30 per game, and the Rams averaged 523 from ‘99-’01 – while operating under the Greatest Show moniker – a difference of less than 2.5 points per game. Sure, the Rams had longevity, scoring more than 500 points in three straight seasons. But the Chiefs captured similar magic, even if just briefly. No Super Bowl, but a Super Show nonetheless.

And there were some individual Chiefs who had all-world seasons. Hall broke the single-season record for kick-return TDs…in Week 5!? There was literally MVP talk after that Denver game. A punt returner. And then there was Priest Holmes, who rushed for 1,420 yards with 27 TDs – then an NFL record – and caught 74 passes for another 690 yards, good for more than 2,100 yards. Compare that to 2005 NFL MVP Shaun Alexander, who rushed 1,880 yards but caught for well under 100. And Trent Green – all he did was throw for more than 4,000 yards to go with 24 touchdowns and just 12 picks.

That 2003 Chiefs team was great. They were horrible, too, but they were great. I loved that team, and not just Holmes and Green and the 13 wins. I loved the way that team played, how fun they were. Even if the Chiefs start winning, I just don’t think they’ll be that entertaining. That’d be impossible.

Which was better: Greinke brilliance or comeback heart-stopper?

2009-05-06T22:03:00.007-05:00

I was an in-person witness to the most recently Zack Greinke Masterpiece, Monday’s game against the White Sox. Greinke pitched his second complete game shutout of the young season*, lowered his ERA to 0.40 and the Royals pulled out a 3-0 win – the most lopsided 3-0 victory that I think I have ever seen. Seriously, by the ninth, it felt like a blowout.

* Greinke would have three complete-game shutouts if not for an unearned run scored by Detroit a few starts back. He still went nine innings with a 0.00 ERA in that one. That’s something that can’t be forgotten. It should be three complete game shutouts.

That game, of course, preceded Game Two of the White Sox series, a game in which the Royals got down 4-0, a game in which they rallied improbably to force extra innings before eventually eking out a win...that they had no business getting.

My buddy Kip, who was at Game Two, was jealous that I got to see that 3-0 Greinke game because it was such pitching brilliance. But I, on the other hand, thought that it would have been pretty cool to witness an 11-inning, 8-7 barnburner that featured a comeback worthy of Chris “Birdman” Andersen. In our texting marathon following the second game, Kip wrote, “I wonder which game was better. Probably yours.”

That may seem like a frivolous, false choice: Which game was better. Of course, there is no right answer, and Kip is smart enough to know that. But it is an interesting hypothetical: Which game was better. What makes it interesting it that these two games were more different than Axel Foley and Beverly Hills.

Game One, indisputably, had the better atmosphere, complete with standing ovations and uncannily rowdy cheering. The way drunkards were yapping in the parking lot was, honestly, reminiscent of a Chiefs game. The announced attendance was just a hair under 22,000, and for a Monday night, that ain’t bad. The crowd was obviously there for one big reason, and it wasn't the AL Central lead or the four-wins-in-five-games streak. It was Greinke. And despite the expectations that come with a 5-0 record and 0.50 ERA, Greinke was better than anyone could have hoped.

It was like a videogame the way Greinke controlled the Sox. He threw 10 strikeouts, gave up just six hits and sat down a handful of batters on check swings. A check-swing strike out, I know, is worth no more than a regular strikeout. But a dunk is worth no more than a lay-up, and it’s still different. It’s better. Well, I am partial to the check-swing K because it shows how baffled, how confused, how off these Major League hitters really are against Greinke right now. It’s one thing to go down hacking, where a fastball gets blown by or you simply whiff on a changeup. But to see the White Sox half-flailing at pitches with these check-swings, bracing themselves for a 96-mile-per-hour heater that never comes, in its stead a 69-mile-per-hour change up – that was pretty incredible. There were no strike outs looking; according to the box score, went down swinging. But boy, some of those swings were bad. Comical. Down right silly. Greinke silly.

The game wasn’t perfect. The Royals got but three runs, and none after the third. Jim Thome sent a ball to deep center that would have been a homer in any other part of the ballpark. Coco Crisp was 0-for-5, Mark Teahen botched a would-be out at third, Alberto Callaspo couldn’t handle a hot shot at second. But none of that mattered. It didn’t matter because Greinke pitched his second complete-game shutout, which is two more than the entire American League. And lest you forget that third complete game. So the first game of which-was-better debate was definitely good.

But Game Two was good too. Entirely different, but still good. There were fewer people, what with the weather a bit shaky and Kyle Davies on the mound. The Royals got down early because Davies got shelled,* which further thinned out the crowd. Davies lasted just four innings, gave up eight hits and six runs, yielded three walks and struck out two. (It’s not fair, but compare that to Greinke’s line from the night before: nine innings, 10 K, zero BB, zero runs. Again, not fair, but interesting.)

* Davies currently has a 5.88 ERA, so this wasn’t a total aberration. He’s failed to go seven innings in any of his last five starts and has gone less than six in all but one of those. He did have a solid six-inning, three-run outing at Texas, but he’s still been getting touched up a bit. It’s early, but not too early to start wondering – not doubting, but wondering – about Davies.

But just as Game One’s defensive shortcomings didn’t much matter, neither did Davies’ horrid outing. My favorite moment of the game was probably Mike Jacobs’ three-run blast in the fourth. Down 5-1 with two runners on, Jacobs hit what Bob Davis would later call a “prodigious” shot to center field. It was awesome: The Royals are getting handled by four runs; two runners reach base; the Royals best slugger comes to the plate; he does exactly what he’s supposed to do, which is crush the ball. It was like when Pedro Cerano hit that two-run blast in Major League late in a game against the Yankees. That’s what good, winning teams do. They crack homers when they desperately need them. If Jacobs goes up and strikes out – which he did twice on the night, by the way; he is No. 8 in the AL in the category – then the chances of that game being a loss go up astronomically. That would have meant a 5-1 hole heading into the top of the fifth, an inning in which the Sox netted two runs. Big hole. But those two Sox runs in the fifth made it a still-manageable 7-4, not an OK-let’s-give-up-now 7-1.

The Royals manufactured much-needed runs in the sixth and seventh, making it 7-7, and had all the momentum heading into extras. Momentum is a strange variable in baseball, much less discernible than in basketball, for instance, where the pace of the game makes the crowd and the energy and the Mo more relevant. A basketball game can be totally decided in the same amount of time it takes a relief pitcher to warm up. In baseball, slow, slow baseball, momentum isn’t such a big deal. It’s there, but not the same way. Regardless, the Royals had whatever momentum there was, and after Jamey Wright and Juan Cruz shut down the Sox in the 10th and 11th, the Royals strung together some hits, and John Buck, who had been 0-for-5, hit the winning run home when the bases were jacked with one out.

So which game was better? Still impossible to say, I guess. Game One was awesome mostly because of Greinke, who is pitching comically well, cover-of-SI well. And when someone who inspires outlandish expectations actually exceeds them – seriously, three complete-game no-earned-run starts? – that is something to behold. And the crowd knew that.

But Game Two was pretty awesome too. Awesome because, whereas the previous night's game was always in hand, the Royals had no business winning Game Two*. They chopped the lead a bit in the third, but the whole got bigger in the fourth. They fought back in the fourth, only to give up two more in the fifth. But they fought back again, and they actually closed the deal. Rany has coined the GWWNHWITP (Games We Would Not Have Won In The Past) watch, and he has it sitting at four on the season right now, which includes that second Sox game.

* What’s also great: four relief pitchers helped the Royals hold the team together after the starter got knocked around. So unlike when Greinke was Greatke, the Royals needed the ‘pen, and hey were spectacular.

So, Kip, I think we can agree: there was no better game. There were two awesome games, two totally different games, two games that – in vastly antithetical ways – showed why this season might be different than the last several.

Stuff Watch, XV

2009-05-04T10:12:00.002-05:00

Even after a stuff-less spell the last few days, there was no way that a Zack Greinke start wouldn't inspire talk of his stuff. No way. You can't enter a game with a .50 ERA and a 5-0 record, proceed to actually improve your already-outlandish stats, and not get talked about. In shutting out the White Sox 3-0, Greinke pushed his record to 6-0, dropped his ERA to .40 and is doing something entirely unquantifiable: Making baseball relevant in KC again. (Well, it's not totally unquantifiable. The 22,000 people in attendance raised some eyebrows, especially considering it was a Monday night game in May.)

To the stuff...(first from AP, then MLB.com)

"Best pitching performance I've seen in a long time by a major league pitcher," White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen said. "He's got great stuff."

. . .

"He's got great stuff, man. I think that's the best I've seen Zack throw," Royals catcher Miguel Olivo said. "Everything was like perfect. Everywhere I put the glove, he'd hit it."

Also: Joe Ponsnanski posted a 2003 article about Mike McDougal on his blog the other day. This was good.

MacDougal figures to take this team on some wild rides. There might not be a single pitcher in baseball who has his combination of stuff and movement....

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse. This is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley dodges media questions, go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Royals picking up media coverage to go with these wins

2009-04-30T10:54:00.005-05:00

The first time I approached the basketball coach* at my college as a writer for the student paper, he gave me a quizzical look like, “The newspaper? Writing about us?”

* (By the way, this is a very skippable aside. The post continues in earnest below...way below.)

My old timid streak aside, the basketball coach was a bit of an intimidating figure. He had been the head coach for nearly 30 years, and boy, did he yell. In the small, empty, Division II gyms that housed our games, the coach’s booming voice could be heard in every corner of the building. And probably outside, too.

One time, when the team was playing a preseason exhibition in Boulder against the Colorado Buffaloes, I was in the CU press section, which literally could not have been much further away. It was one of those corner press sections – not on the sidelines – and Coach was on the opposite end of the floor, on the opposite side of the arena. And still, you could hear him clear as day. I’m trying to do the geometry…it’s a 94-foot court, plus we were on the opposite side, so that’s another 50 feet, and I was up several rows, so that’s another probably 30 feet. I was darn near 200 feet away, and there was nary a word you couldn’t clearly hear. One of the AP writers – why AP was covering this exhibition game, I don’t know – said something to me about how loud he was, and I said, “Yeah, it’s a lot worse when you’re 20 feet away and there’s no one around.”

Honestly, Coach wasn’t a total tyrant. Not at all. In fact, under that bald head and behind that piercing glare was a softee, a genuinely nice guy who one time gave me a hug for a feature I did on a former player. But you had to get to know him first. If you just saw him and heard him on the sidelines, it was 100 percent tyrant. And when I went to chat him up that first time, I didn’t know that softee. I only knew the clipboard-throwing, voice-booming tyrant.

Nervous, I said, “I wanted to talk about the team. If there’s a better time, I could come back.” This was one of the perks of being at a Div. II school – and a small one, at that. You could just pop in on coaches, and if they couldn’t talk then, you could just pop in later. It was quite the adjustment when I first covered CU, and there was this 10-minute window before practice where you could talk – quickly – with the coach and players.

“No,” Coach said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Gulp.

So I sat down across his desk – another small-college perk; none of those hurried, standing interviews – and before I ask Question No. 1, he says, “It’s been awhile since the papers come around here.”

And that much, I learned later, was true. The team hadn’t had a good season since the short-shorts era, and were essentially ignored. The student body didn’t care much about sports to begin with, let alone crummy sports. So it made sense that Coach was surprised that, all of a sudden, there was some nervous, wide-eyed, wannabe reporter asking about opponent field goal percentage and free throw shooting and the like.

Well, I understand that baffled, eye-furrowed look on Coach’s face a little bit better today. I understand how strange it is to suddenly garner media coverage – it’s a stretch to call that student paper “media,” I know – after years of not getting a sniff.

The Royals are playing the role of that basketball team, and the media – the national media – are playing the role of suddenly-fascinated student newspaper.

With Zack Greinke on the mound last night against the Jays, there was a virtual media circus surrounding the Royals. And boy, is that strange. Especially considering no one outside the hot, humid confines of the Midwest has given a care about the Royals in years. And years.

Sports Illustrated was of course the most palpable bit of sudden media coverage for the Royals – who, after winning 11-3, are now 11-10 and in first place in the Central. Greinke, who pitched another gem, was the SI cover boy this week. That in itself is nuts. But that was not at all the extent of the media’s brand new infatuation with the Royals.

On SportsCenter last night, before the first commercial break, they showed highlights of the Royals game, and in the bottom left-hand corner, there was a “Greinke ERA” counter. If you wanted to see Royals highlights the past few seasons, you’d be better off tuning into Baseball Tonight – the last few minutes of Baseball Tonight. But yesterday, it was SportsCenter. Early in SportsCenter. And with the special ERA tracker too.

That’s not all. On MLB.com, a banner picture of Greinke was on the “front page,” and the Royals recap was the first item on the right-hand-side list of stories. On ESPN.com, the Royals’ recap was the fifth item on the homepage. That’s behind only stories about A-Rod, swine flu, and the NBA Playoffs. ESPN being ESPN, they have an affinity for drama (like A-Rod or swine flu), and a vested interest in hyping up the NBA Playoffs (which air on ABC and ESPN). But right after that, it was Greinke and the Royals.

SI.com had even more preferential treatment, giving the Royals the No. 3 spot in the list of national stories.

And on a more local note, both Jason Whitlock and Joe Posnanski wrote Royals columns in the Kansas City Star today. Poz writes Royals all the time, but Whitlock doesn’t. And they both did on the same day.

Now, obviously a lot of this hype has to do with Greinke’s 0.00 ERA. Kyle Davies is on the mound this afternoon, and the Royals certainly won’t get the same sort of coverage today. But still, KC is No. 1 in the Central, own the best pitcher in baseball and, after getting neglected for years, is suddenly finding itself in the spotlight.

So yeah, this reminds me a lot of that first time I covered my college basketball team, and Coach looked at me like I was crazy. Because to him, it did sound crazy: The paper is writing about us? It’s been a long time. Well, it’s been a long time for the Royals, too. Let’s hope they’re ready for the close-up.

Stuff Watch, XIV

2009-04-30T10:46:00.005-05:00

A few mentions of stuff today, both from the KC Star.

The first was in reference to Gil Meche, who, according to team doctors and Meche himself, is not actually injured. Back tightness, yes. Injured, no.

(Reminds me of my old high school football coach who would say -- when someone was writhing on the ground -- "Are you hurt, or are you injured? If you're just hurt, then get up!")

Meche, apparently, is just hurt.

"I couldn’t tell," said Blue Jays second baseman Aaron Hill, who went one for two off Meche with a walk. "He’s got good stuff, he just happened to (leave) a couple balls up."

And then, Joe Posnanski got in the act, asserting the Zack Greinke is jinx-proof because, well, you know...

Already people write in to say that the jinx doesn’t officially begin until the magazine reaches their home, so it’s the NEXT start that is actually jinx vulnerable. So it goes with jinxes. But you know what? There are no jinxes here, no curses, because there’s nothing fluky about this. Zack Greinke really is this good. He has great stuff. He has a great pitching mind. He has control. He will give up runs, and he will have his tough outings, and he will not be perfect every time out. But the guy is awfully good.

That Poz one, now that I think about it, is definitely one of my very favorite stuff mentions during this young season. A four-word sentence, no explanation given, none needed. I'm going to remember Stuff Watch XIV.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse. This is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley dodges media questions, go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Spurs spurned by Mavericks, their reign is over

2009-04-29T11:24:00.002-05:00

There is, tucked away deep inside, a part of me that likes the San Antonio Spurs. There is part of me that jumps every time Tim Duncan kisses a shot off the glass from an impossible angle. There is part of me that can’t help but marvel when Tony Parker sneaks in a lay-up amid the trees. There is part of me that doesn’t mind when Greg Popovich employs Hack-a-Shaq in the first quarter because, you know what, it works.

There are myriad reasons that the Spurs have won four NBA titles in the last 10 years. And the basketball fan in me is obliged to appreciate those reasons – like a musician is obliged to appreciate, if not adore, the music of Beethoven. But while I respect the Spurs’ decade-long brilliance, I still absolutely can’t stand them. I mean, I see the ecological value in mosquitoes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t detest the little buggers.

The part of me that loathes the Spurs was elated last night when the Dallas Mavericks dropped San Antonio 106-93, taking the first-round Western Conference playoff series in a surprisingly easy five games. The average margin of victory for Dallas was 13 points. They won two of three – including the clincher – in San Antonio. They dismantled the Team Formerly Known as The Spurs, sending them packing before round two for the first time since 2000.

More important than the Mavs’ win, though, was what it signifies: the Spurs Dynasty is over. Age and miles have finally caught up with the Spurs. Their time has come. No longer do we need to worry about the most sleep-inducing team with the dirtiest defender and the most boring superstar polluting the late rounds of the NBA Playoffs. That era, thank god, has passed.

Now, it’s not like San Antonio is going to fall of the map. That the Spurs were the No. 3 seed in the playoffs proves that there is still something left in the tank. But anymore, it’s the tank of a beaten-down old clunker, not the unstoppable force it had been in years past. The elements that once made the Spurs’ armor impenetrable are eroding.

It starts with Duncan. Painfully, I admit that Duncan is amazing. His career numbers of 21.4 and 11.7 will be a ticket to the Hall of Fame – deservedly so. But Duncan’s career has climaxed. He hit the vaunted 1,000-game mark this season, which is the basketball equivalent to a pitcher having Tommy John surgery. Sure, Duncan averaged nearly 20 points in the playoffs and during the regular season. But having just turned 33 and cracking that 1,000-game plateau, well, it won’t be long before he starts giving that condescending glare to trainers instead of referees. How are you going to tell me my knees are gone? Don’t you know who I am?

The demise of Duncan is more paramount because of what we’ve seen with Manu Ginobili. He started and ended the season one the bench, hurt. Yeah, he averaged 15.5 points, which isn’t bad, but played in just 44 of 87 games because of constant injuries. He doesn’t have the miles that Duncan does, having played fewer than 600 career games. But he isn’t young. Despite only playing seven seasons in the NBA, he will turn 32 this summer. We haven’t seen the last of Manu, but we’ve seen the best.

An optimistic Spurs fan say, “Fine, Duncan and Ginobili are breaking down. That doesn’t matter because we’ve always been a team that relies of the supporting cast. And they’re still around.” Well, yes and no. Bruce Bowen is 37. Michael Finley is 36. Fabricio Oberto is 34. Jacque Vaughn is 34.

(That my days of having to watch Bruce Bowen are numbered may be the best part about this whole Spurs devolution. Along with averaging 2.7 points this season – his worst output since 1896 – he no longer does what he was always so good at: frustrating and shutting down someone on the other team. See him get chewed out by Popovich during the playoffs for a botched assignment? Great. This is the guy who kicked Wally Szczerbiak in the face, kneed Steve Nash in the, uh, Man Region, and so on. But enough about him – he’s old news.)

One thing the Spurs have working in their favor is Tony Parker, who averaged a career-high 22 points and 6.9 assists this season, and shot an outlandish 50.4 percent from the floor. He has polished up that jumper, which used to be cringe-inducing, and at just 26 has established himself as a star. He’s not going anywhere. But he’s also not going to be able to carry the Spurs by his lonesome. While I would expect nothing but bigger-and-better in the future from Parker, I also would expect that leaning on him won’t yield any titles.

I could, of course, be totally wrong. After all, people said The Office couldn’t last. The Rolling Stones are still touring. John McCain is still barking in the Senate. So old age doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s all over.

But in this case, with the Spurs, I think it does. I think this team is cooked, and I couldn’t be happier. No more will I have to watch three or four playoff rounds of Duncan’s mind-numbing play. No more watching Bowen cheat-and-beat the league’s stars.

The Spurs will keep winning games, but their days of winning titles are over. With their exit from the playoffs, amazing has already happened.

Chase Daniel to Redskins, who now own the most prolific back-up QB combo in history

2009-04-27T09:55:00.009-05:00

The Washington Redskins can lay claim to having two of the most successful college quarterbacks in history on their roster, and there is no chance that either of them will start. In fact, it won’t be a surprise if one of them doesn’t even make the 53-man roster come fall.

It's strange to have that much talent at one position, and stranger yet that neither player has a legit shot to be the starter.

Having drafted Hawaii’s Colt Brennan in the sixth round of the 2008 draft, the Redskins are inviting former Missouri QB Chase Daniel to training camp with a free agent contract. The 6-foot Daniel was a Heisman finalist in 2007 – along with Brennan – and front-runner for the award in 2008 before struggling a bit down the stretch. So yeah, Washington now has the most prolific pair of college QBs in the NFL, and what has to be the most prolific tandem of back-up QBs in NFL history. Not that either of them should expect to play.

Both Brennan and Daniel put up comical numbers in college. Brennan had 14,193 yards in three seasons at Hawaii – fourth all time in passing yards. He also tossed 131 TDs, including an NCAA-record 58 in 2006, the same year he set the record for passing efficiency in a season with a 186.

Daniel had 12,515 passing yards and 101 touchdowns and owns every conceivable Missouri passing record, as well as the 2006 and 2007 Big 12 award for “Who Would Have Thought This Guy Plays College Football,” given to the least physically imposing starter in the conference. (Todd Reesing claimed the award last season.)

It is interesting to compare those guys’ career numbers to the presumed Washington starter, Jason Campbell, who was drafted in 2005 and started most of the last two seasons. At Auburn, Campbell threw for a mere 7,110 yards with 44 touchdowns. To put that in perspective, Brennan threw for 5,549 yards and 58 touchdowns in 2006 alone. Of course Brennan was running the spread in the WAC, and Campbell was running a conventional offense in the SEC. But it is still interesting how outrageous Campbell’s backups’ numbers are, especially compared to his.

Brennan and Daniel also led their college teams to unprecedented success. Behind Brennan, Hawaii had a 12-1 record in 2007 and earned the school's first invite to the BCS. Yeah, they got lambasted by Georgia in the Sugar Bowl, but it was quite an accomplishment for the Warriors.

And at Missouri, all Daniel did was win back-to-back Big 12 North titles – the school’s first two North crowns – and led his team to a No. 1 ranking in 2007 and as high as No. 2 in 2008. Sure, both seasons ended in Big 12 title game losses to Oklahoma and underwhelming bowl invites. But while the title dreams at Mizzou were ultimately left unfulfilled, it was Daniel and his masterful orchestration of the passing game that allowed those dreams to manifest in the first place.

With Campbell, Brennan and Todd Collins also on the roster, there is little chance that Daniel will be with the Redskins at the end of the summer. I can’t imagine that Washington would go with Daniel over Collins; who wants a rookie who played out of the spread instead of a guy like Collins who, if nothing else, is a security blanket if Campbell gets hurt? You need more than one year of experience out of your two backup quarterbacks, which is all the Skins would have if Daniel supplanted Collins. (I also can’t imagine that the Skins doing away with Brennan, seeing as they signed him to a four-year deal last season.)

There isn’t much of a climax to this post. I just thought it was interesting that the Skins picked up Daniel one year after picking up Brennan, who didn’t take a single snap last season. They now own, without doubt, the most prolific tandem of college quarterbacks in the league. Of course, this is not college anymore, and spread QBs have not thrived much in the league.

I am not a huge Missouri fan, but I am a big spread offense fan. And I like underdogs, too. So I will shelve my homerism for Kansas and quietly cheer for Daniel to make the team. Or at least some team.

Stuff Watch, XIII

2009-04-24T08:26:00.007-05:00

Alright, so I was out of town this weekend, but don't think I didn't keep tabs on the Royals. Between recently reading Moneyball, playing my first season of fantasy baseball and the Royals' legit chance to compete in the AL Central for the first time in years, I am eating up all things Royals. And I am definitely continuing the Stuff Watch.

In Friday's KC Star, manager Trey Hillman explained his decision to keep Gil Meche in the game into the eighth inning -- an inning in which the Royals squandered their 2-1 lead after Meche got touched up.

“(Meche) had an extra day (of rest),” Hillman said, “and I just evaluated his stuff. In that (same) situation, I’d probably do exactly what I did — stick with a guy who has good stuff. He had limited damage all day.”

There was more good stuff from MLB.com's game story...

With runners at the corners, manager Trey Hillman had his bullpen at work but let Meche pitch to Asdrubal Cabrera. The count went to 1-2.

"Actually, I thought Gil would strike him out. I really did," Hillman said, "because I felt like his stuff was still good enough to do that."

While those comments about Thursday's game fall into the "lamenting" stuff category, the comments about Zack Greinke's outing on Friday were of the "laudatory" variety. And why not. Greinke pitched his second straight complete game, his second straight shut-out, and his ERA still sits at 0.00. From The Star:

“He’s got such good stuff,” Tigers catcher Gerald Laird said. “You could tell the last couple of innings he kind of just turned it on. He sniffed that complete game, and that’s what the good ones do.”*

* There was also a good Greinke quote after that game, one that is not stuff-related but worth noting nonetheless. Zack, of course, is a straight shooter. I remember hearing an interview a few years ago, when he was a bullpen guy, and he was asked about his preference on closing versus starting. He said something like, "You know, if doesn't really matter what I think. When you play in the majors, you do what they tell you to do. They don't care what I want, so I don't worry about it." His good quotes abound. You probably know this if you follow the Royals at all.

Anyway, when asked about pitching a complete game in front of a sold-out K crowd, Greinke said, "I don’t know why there were so many people here today. I know it was fireworks night, and I guess there was a (Buck Night) giveaway.

"But still, the Royals have come a long way selling out a game against the Tigers. The last couple of years, that wouldn’t have happened, no matter what they were giving away."

Oh, Zack.

Needless to say, there was less talk of KC's stuff after the last two games. Kyle Davies was shelled on Saturday as KC lost 9-1, and although Sidney Ponson pitched well Sunday, KC dropped their second in a row, 3-2. Ponson had good stuff -- eight innings, seven Ks, three earned runs -- but no one seemed in the mood to talk about it.

Not that this is groundbreaking, but it is becoming clear, on the 13th edition of the Stuff Watch, that there is a lot more talk of "stuff" when the team wins. Again, a monkey probably could have guessed that, but this Stuff Watch is about transcending guesswork and getting to the bottom of what "stuff" actually means. Yeah, we all know that is refers to pitchers. We know if has to do with the movement and velocity and location. We know it pertains to the "hittability" of a pitcher's pitches. But we've seen it used in multiple contexts in multiple ways thus far, like when Gil Meche said, "I’ve always had good stuff here. I haven’t always pitched great here, but I’ve had great stuff here." Now, it's true that Hillman did laud Meche's stuff after he took the loss Thursday against the Indians. But nonetheless, this four-game recap, which covered a 1-3 stretch, indicates that -- statistically -- stuff is a word that crops up more after wins.*

* Or at least that is how it's reported by the people who I am using to calcuate the use of the word. The usual suspects are the KC Star's Bob Dutton, Sam Mellinger and Joe Posnanski, who usually cover the Royals for the hometown paper. I also keep an eye closely trained on Dick Kaegel, who writes about the Royals from mlb.com. I read the AP recaps, too. Now, I am not in the clubhouse interviewing coaches and players like these "real" writers are, so maybe the word stuff is getting tossed around just as much after losses. I don't know.

To be fair, The Star's Sam Mellinger did use the word when discussing yesterday's game, but he used it in reference to the other team: "The Royals hit just three balls out of the infield against a pitcher who didn’t have close to his best stuff, and, well, that’s about how it’s going now." But the real purpose of the Stuff Watch is to keep track of the word as it relates to the ROYALS' pitchers. If it's the opponents whose stuff keeps getting talked about, I may rethink the, uh, epistemology of this study. But right now, it's a KC-based endeavor.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse, and thanks to America's strong history of protecting innovative ideas, this is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley dodges media questions, go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Spread players are spreading to the first round

2009-04-23T21:33:00.003-05:00

(Column also available here.)

I love the spread offense. Evidence of this abound. There are 13 labels for oft-discussed topics on my blog, and one of them is “spread offense.” I am from Kansas City, which, as the mid-point between the University of Missouri and the University of Kansas, is Ground Zero for the spread. I gleefully watched those two teams spread their way to more than 16,000 passing yards and nearly 150 touchdown tosses over the past two seasons. And on a more juvenile note, I have run the spread in videogames for years, long before it was the chic thing to do. (How long ago am I talking about? Well, the videogame QB who operated my breakneck offense was Jared Lorenzen, Kentucky’s quarterback from 2000-03. You may remember the 300-pound Lorenzen as The Hefty Lefty, J-Lo, or The Battleship Lorenzen.)

So yeah, I love the spread offense. Basketball was my first love, and the spread is the closest that football comes to simulating basketball; I’d say Michigan State is the closest basketball comes to simulating football. The spread makes for entertaining games (KU beat MU in a 40-37 epic last November), allows for nutty upsets (Appalachian State over Michigan, anyone?) and can turn a downtrodden program surrounded by juggernauts into a title contender (like, say, Texas Tech).

But not everyone has shared my years-long affinity for the spread. Namely, NFL scouts. Because the spread is seen as gimmicky, because there is a sense that anyone could put up big numbers in the spread, NFL scouts have historically been averse to taking seriously the statistics accrued by spread players. For example, Texas Tech’s B.J. Symons, who set the NCAA record for yards in a season with more than 5,800, wasn’t drafted until the seventh round in 2004. Then-NCAA career passing yards leader Timmy Chang wasn’t drafted at all despite throwing for about 90,000 yards in college. And MU’s Martin Rucker, a 6-4, 260-pound tight end with eight touchdowns and 834 receiving yards in 2007, fell to the fourth round in the 2008 draft.

Rucker’s agent, Tom Condon, didn’t mince words to The Kansas City Star about why his big, productive client didn’t hear his name called on day one.

“It’s because he played in the spread offense,” Condon said. “They haven’t seen him put his hand down in a three-point stance and block.”

This season, though, it looks like spread products will be coming off the board pretty early. In fact, three of the most highly regarded receivers – Michael Crabtree, Jeremy Maclin and Percy Harvin – all played in spread offenses in college. Their mind-boggling stats used to be a red flag, but this year – for the first time – there will be three offensive players from spread systems taken in the first round.

The biggest spread prospect is Crabtree, who is projected as a top-five pick. Crabtree amassed 3,127 receiving yards during his two seasons at Texas Tech, so he was obviously productive. But of course, he played in Mike Leach’s exhausting system, and that keeps cropping up as – if not a knock against him – at least an asterisk. A New York Times blogger had a Q&A with Crabtree, and the fourth question asked was, “Some critics say that your success was partly a result of a pass-happy system at Texas Tech…” Still, Crabtree has transcended the anti-spread bias and is regarded as the top receiver.

Another spread player who figures to be nabbed in Round One is Missouri receiver and return man Jeremy Maclin. Like Crabtree, Maclin put up huge numbers in an offense that was apparently allergic to running the ball. Maclin had more than 1,000 receiving yards in each of his two seasons at Mizzou and accumulated more than 5,600 all-purpose yards. Despite playing at pass happy Mizzou, a handful of mock drafts – which, I know, can prove as inaccurate as weathermen – have Maclin being picked at No. 7 by the Raiders.

A third spread player who will probably be picked in the first round – recent pot bust aside – is Percy Harvin. The former Florida Gator actually had more rushes than catches as a junior last season, averaging 9.4 yards per rush and 16.1 per catch. The hybrid (high-brid?) doesn’t figure to make it out of the first round despite the atypical style Florida plays.

I’m not saying that NFL teams were being unfair or silly by shying away from spread players in the past. After all, Symons never did anything to warrant even his seventh-round pick. Rucker, who slipped to the fourth, had all of two catches last season – hardly an I-told-you-so campaign. And Chang has bounced around the CFL and was recently cut by the Winnipeg Blue Bombers. So it’s not like teams that passed on these guys lamented their decisions.

But it looks like a new era is upon us. If the mock drafts are right, then the NFL is no longer scoffing at spread players. Anymore, when a player puts up outlandish numbers in a spread offense, it’s not necessarily cause for suspicion and skepticism. Crazy stats, unlike in the past, may lead to a high pick. Indeed, these spread players have finally spread to the first round.

Stuff Watch, XII

2009-04-23T09:44:00.005-05:00

I promise that, eventually, I will compose a treatise or manifesto about the word stuff. This Stuff Watch started out as something purely for entertainment, and while I still do get a kick out of the word -- maybe more so than my readers -- there is something, oh, academic about this stuff watch. It is such a silly, oft-used word that part of the reason I am tracking its use is to find out what exactly it means.

And if you don't think the definition of stuff is something of a conundrum, then you must not have seen Gil Meche quoted in today's KC Star. When answering a question about his decreased velocity in Texas last weekend, Meche said that the mound was too flat. He then ventured to predict a better outing this afternoon in Cleveland.

“I like the mound here a lot,” he said. “It’s higher. You can tell that from the bench. I’ve always had good stuff here. I haven’t always pitched great here, but I’ve had great stuff here.”

Now, if there was ever a quote that summed up why I like the word stuff, why I like how liberally it's used by baseball folks, why I think it is one of the great sports terms out there, that quote tells it all. Meche says that he's had good stuff in Cleveland, but hasn't always pitched well there. Good stuff but not good pitching? Wait, let me write this down! That quote complicated my ever-evolving thesis about what the word stuff actually means. Again, I hope to have a quasi-academic production completed by the All Star break. Hopefully Meche and Co. can keep giving me gold like this to work with.

Sidenote: Royals' second baseman/right fielder/film operator Willie Bloomquist was impressed with Cleveland pitch Cliff Lee:

"He's got good stuff, man. He didn't win the Cy Young for nothing. You know every time you face him, it's going to be a battle."

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse, and thanks to America's strong history of protecting innovative ideas, this is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley dodges media questions, go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

No joshing around: Josh Freeman overrated

2009-04-21T12:06:00.002-05:00

(Column also available here.)

If you watch the first round of this weekend’s NFL Draft – so, if you watch the first nine hours – you will hear Josh Freeman’s name called. What you know about Freeman likely depends on where you reside.

If you live outside of the Midwest, these are the numbers you probably associate with the former Kansas State quarterback: 6-foot-6, 250 pounds – prototype height and weight for an NFL QB. But if you live in Big 12 Country, these are the more memorable Freeman numbers: 12-14, 5-11 – his overall and conference records over his last two seasons.

There are two distinct sides to Freeman. The one that looks the part of NFL quarterback, and the one that plays like an average college quarterback. He’s projected as a mid- to late-first rounder, so he’ll be picked around the time that viewers start asking themselves why in God’s name they’re watching this thing on TV. But whoever takes Freeman will get a guy who looks like a pro QB, but who is proof that looks aren’t everything. They will get a guy whose dimensions – 6-6, 250 – are way more impressive that his accomplishments.

Why am I already decrying Freeman? After all, the guy did throw 20 touchdowns to only eight interceptions last season as a junior. Well, look a little closer at the stats. More than half of Freeman’s 20 touchdowns came in the Wildcats’ first four games, which, per Wildcat tradition, were against the likes of North Texas, Montana State, Louisiana-Lafeyette and Louisville. So more than 50 percent of his TD tosses came in one-third of the games, which happened to be the four easiest games of the season.

Oh, and Freeman threw four TDs in his college finale, a rousing 38-30 comeback win at home against 2-10 Iowa State, the worst team in the Big 12 – whose coach, Gene Chizik, inexplicably got the Auburn gig. I know that Chizik used to coach at Auburn, but I will bet money that the Tigers rue the day they ousted Tommy Tuberville – he of the 85-40 record on The Plains – in favor of a guy who went 4-20 in his two seasons as a Division I head coach.

Sorry, I’m ranting. What was I talking about…Josh Freeman. My point is that if you subtract the five easiest games of the season – the four non-conference saps and Iowa State – Freeman’s TD-to-INT ratio was 5-to-6. That’s less than one TD per contest. That’s less TDs than INTs. That’s a reminder that he threw zero TDs in four different conference games. That’s not first-round material.

So the stats are a little less impressive when you look at what Freeman did against good teams. Yeah, he had 478 yards against Oklahoma last season, but his team also got plastered in that game, and Freeman also threw three picks in that game. And this horrible number trumps the good ones: Oklahoma was one of just two teams in the Big 12, along with ISU, against which Freeman threw for at least 240 yards. By comparison, Kansas’ Todd Reesing, whose as much of an NFL prospect as Steve Urkel, only didn’t throw for 240 twice.

Freeman was in selective company with the other Big 12 quarterbacks who didn't have prodigious seasons. This is the conference that sent two QBs to the Heisman ceremony – Sam Bradford and Colt McCoy – and allowed two others to crack the 4,000-yard mark – Daniel and Harrell. So 2008 was not a good year for Big 12 defenses, save when they played Freeman, who, remarkably, was one of five downtrodden quarterbacks in the Big 12 who didn't throw for at least 3,000 yards. Oklahoma State’s Zac Robinson topped 3,000 on 314 attempts, while Freeman couldn’t hit that mark in 382 attempts.

And then there’s the wins, or lack thereof. Freeman was 12-14 in his final two seasons, and 5-11 in the Big 12. Outside of their two wins against Texas – wins that to this day remain inexplicable – Freeman and KSU only beat one bowl team in the past two seasons, and that was Colorado, which snuck into a bowl in 2007.

I don’t think it was a bad move for Freeman to skip his senior season for the NFL. This is a weak QB draft outside of Matthew Stafford and Mark Sanchez, and there seems to be consensus that Freeman will definitely be a first-rounder. But I am weary of Freeman because what has the scouts drooling are his physical stats, not his football stats. I mean, what did Freeman do on the field at K-State to justify his first-round status? He was a no-show against good teams, he didn’t win many games, he rolled up big numbers against cupcakes. News flash: There are no cupcakes in the NFL, and as a GM with a first-round pick, I would be petrified of a quarterback who didn’t like/couldn’t handle playing stiff competition.

Remember during the Clinton-Obama hatefest in early 2008 when Bill Clinton said that Obama’s rhetoric on Iraq was “the biggest fairy tale I’ve ever seen”? Well, I feel that way about Josh Freeman’s draft stock. Why is everyone so sold on Freeman? If his physical tools are so valuable in the NFL, why weren’t they valuable in college? If his gargantuan stature will make him a franchise QB, why did he only go to one bowl game – a 27-point defeat – in three seasons?

I know Freeman has the look of an NFL quarterback. I know he has a big arm. I know he has a big body. But that just makes him a bigger gamble.

Stuff Watch, XI

2009-04-20T22:42:00.003-05:00

Curious, curious use of the the word stuff today in The KC Star. Michael Young, who blasted the game-winning homer against Kyle Farnsworth, who now sits at 0-3 and owns three of the Royals' five losses, was lauding Farnsworth's stuff. Couldn't believe it.

“Hitting a home run was the last thing on my mind when facing a guy who’s got really good stuff,” Young said. “I was just thinking contact, get on base, and set the table for the guys behind me.”

Sounds like a humble guy, but at some point, humility starts to sound insincere. Young approaches that point.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse, and thanks to America's strong history of protecting innovative ideas, this is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley dodges media questions, go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

How will Royals diehards react to fair-weather fans?

2009-04-19T12:00:00.006-05:00

Diehard sports fans are an interesting lot. You know diehards. They are the ones who love their team through wins and losses, through gaffes and greatness, through brilliance and brain-farts. These are the guys – and maybe the occasional girl – who drop a few hundred dollars on a cable package for the sole purpose of watching their one team. Who wear their team’s jersey in the most obscure of places – Go Packers! Even in China! Who litter their fantasy roster with their hometown heroes because, by God, who are you to say that a lifetime .236 hitter isn’t set for a breakout season?

Winning teams have legions of diehards; everyone loves a winner. But diehards for losing teams, now that’s loyalty. A more apt name for them might be bad-weather fans – fans who, unlike fair-weather fans, love their team even when things couldn’t look bleaker. And to be a hardcore bad-weather fan, it takes an unusual psychological makeup. You have to love your team unconditionally, and be unabashed about it, and gladly take heat if your team flounders because, well, that almost makes it more fun. Yeah, I know there have been six presidents since we went to the playoffs, but I’m telling you, this is the year. Bad-weather fans accept any trash-talk that comes their way because they will be able to unleash that pent-up anguish when (if) their team ever gets good. (Much the same way Bobby Boucher turned being mocked into a good thing in the cinematic masterpiece “The Waterboy.”)

An interesting dilemma is nearly inevitable though. And it’s one that bad-weather Royals fans may encounter this season: What to do when your team gets good? Now, it is far too early to declare the Royals legitimate, semi-legitimate or even totally competent. After all, this is a team that has averaged 98 losses over the last three seasons, a team that has sprouted and then scattered All Stars throughout the league, a team has simply been junk for a long while. This team has suffered injuries and bad luck and horrible managing and all the rest of it.

But this season has a different feel, doesn’t it? Maybe that’s just because it’s early, I don’t know. The Royals started 3-0 last season and faded quickly. They started 16-3 in 2003 and faded slowly. Basically, they always fade. So this 7-4 start is nothing to get worked up about.*

* How good has the Royals pitching been though? Seriously, pretty incredible. Gil Meche and Zack Greinke have been unhittable. On Friday Meche pitched six scoreless innings against the Rangers, who own the best offense in baseball, and Greinke one-upped him by pitching nine scoreless innings last night. Greinke still has a 0.00 ERA – and I suspect he might for a while – and Meche has been more than serviceable with a 2.25 ERA and an 18-to-4 K-to-walk ratio. And the third starter, Kyle Davies, has a 2.13 ERA through two starts. Nasty.

The Royals have been the perfect bad-weather fan team for the better part of two decades. But a quandary is brewing. It looks like the Royals are going to be good this season, at least good in the AL Central. And this raises an interesting question for all the bad-weather Royals fans: How will they react when the team gets good?

Common sense tells you that bad-weather fans would be too elated with their team’s success to worry about all of the people hopping on the bandwagon. Common sense tells you that nothing – not even tens of thousands of fair-weather fans – could temper the joy felt by bad-weather fans. After all, bad-weather fans are enamored with their team when they suck, so it would seem that nothing could be more joy-inducing than a little hard-earned success.

But I’m not so sure. Like I said earlier, the psychological makeup of your bad-weather fan is unusual. There is no logical explanation for living and dying with the successes and failures of a team that always fails. There is no rationale behind emotionally investing in a team that seems hell-bent on causing you anguish. So I’m not so sure that bad-weather Royal fans are going to lend a hand to new/fair-weather Royal fans this season. I simply can’t see them reaching off the bandwagon that they have so dutifully occupied for well over a decade, grabbing a new fan’s hand and saying, “Welcome aboard. I’m looking forward to you joining the team!”

Of course the Royals will have to continue to win for this to become an issue. But if they do – and I think they will – I wouldn’t be surprised if the bad-weather fans’ attitude is one of: I’ve been such a good fan that I don’t want you people around my team.

I suspect that their will be a possessiveness about the Royals. For so long they tormented their oh-so loyal fans: not spending enough money, not winning enough games, not hanging on to homegrown talent. So any fans that stuck with the Royals through all of that – and there are a ton of them – may feel an extra sense of ownership now that the Boys In Blue seem competitive again.

It would be like you invested a bunch of money in a start-up 15 years ago, and then watched the company hit rock bottom, barely able to sustain itself. People were telling you to cut your losses, pull out your investment, and start anew with a different venture. But bad-weather Royals fans, despite being given every reason to quit on the team, never did. And if the Royals turned things around and started winning, the pride will be overwhelming. That hard-earned sense of ownership, the sense of accomplishment, would make past suffering worth it. And all those people who said that it was hopeless – well, who’s laughing now?

This post must be left open-ended. The season is too young to declare the Royals a legit contender, and as a result we don’t know how the bad-weather Royals fans will react to the fair-weather ones – should the Royals continue to be good enough to attract fair-weather fans.

My unfortunate prediction, however, is that there will be a sort of culture war. It won’t be between the haves and the have-nots, but between the braves and the brave-nots. The fans that braved the past 15 to 20 years of Royals futility and the ones who decided to hop on only after the team became a winner. I have a several friends who have dorkily followed the Royals through the team’s years-long ineptitude, and I will keep an eye trained on how receptive they are to more Royals jerseys around town, to more people at Kaufman Stadium, to more people pulling for their team. I suspect that anyone who has stuck with the Royals will unwittingly find themselves disgruntled with all the newbies. We’ll see.

Stuff Watch, X

2009-04-19T11:50:00.003-05:00

It comes as no surprise that Zack Greinke's 10 K, zero walk, complete game shut-out inspired talk of his stuff. The only surprise is that the word didn't appear more in The Kansas City Star's game story.

“I catch him all of the time,” catcher Miguel Olivo said. “But today, I saw he had the best stuff that he can have. The fastball, the slider, the curve and the change-up — everything was nasty.

“To throw a shutout against that team here, that’s like a no-hitter somewhere else.”

Indeed, Miguel, indeed. As I discussed a few days ago, the Royals-Rangers series is pitting the AL's best bats versus the AL's best arms, or at least the best top-of-the-rotation. Well, look who's winning. In the first two games, Gil Meche and Greinke went a combined 15 innings, gave up zero runs and struck out 16. Not bad.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse, and thanks to America's strong history of protecting innovative ideas, this is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley dodges media questions, go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Greinke too bored to just be good

2009-04-18T12:25:00.003-05:00

I think maybe Zack Greinke planned on this, that it’s no mistake he has a 0.00 ERA right now. That may seem like a no-brainer because, sure, every pitcher wants to to shut down the other team, to leave the game having yielded zero runs. Quarterbacks would like to complete every pass. Shooters would like to hit every shot. Bowlers think every roll should be a strike. Duh. But I think Zack Greinke may be just, um, quirky enough that this isn’t simply a good start. This was his plan.

Through two starts, Greinke has pitched 11 innings and given up zero runs. He’s struck out 16, walked just five and has basically been just short of brilliant. I would say he’s been downright brilliant but for the fact that he's gotten himself into a few jams. He keeps getting out of trouble, though, and now that I think about it, maybe that makes him more brilliant.

Anyway, his ERA sits at 0.00. I know it won’t sit there forever. I know that one swing today (or any day) from a guy like Ian Kinsler or Nelson Cruz or Michael Young will blow that 0.00 out of the water. I know there’s no way to navigate a Major League season – or a high school season – with a 0.00 ERA.

But I wonder if Greinke knows that.

There are a few reasons I have for thinking that Greinke has his eyes set on a 0.00. I’ll say straight out that none of those reasons have anything to do with knowing the guy or having interviewed him or anything like that. This is raw speculation, so take it for what it’s worth – which, honestly, ain’t much. But before you navigate away from the Fieldhouse, just hear me out for a few more paragraphs.

In a killer article by Joe Posnanski in The Kansas City Star’s baseball preview section, Poz detailed in vintage Poz fashion Greinke’s career to this point. One of the striking things about Greinke is that he wasn’t always a pitcher. He had a huge bat in high school, and he only decided – conceded may be a better word – that he should pitch when it became obvious that he was too good not to pitch. It’d be like if Beethoven was a really good painter, and he really just wanted to paint, but then realized that it’d be a sin if he didn’t compose music. Well, it sounds like Greinke had a good enough stick to do some real damage, but he realized that he would be robbing baseball of a golden arm – and himself of millions of dollars – if he relegated himself to hitting.

Well, after he became a pitcher, Greinke was, according to Posnanski, bored. He wasn’t simply not having fun. It transcended that. He was flat-out bored. Maybe it was because he was so good. Maybe it was because so young. Maybe it was because, deep down, he wanted to be back in the batter’s box instead of on the mound. Whatever the reason, Posnanski’s article talked at length about Greinke’s boredom:

Newspaper story after newspaper story mentioned that Greinke was bored by pitching, but in those early years that was spun as a good thing: “Look at this guy, he’s so good he’s bored by his success. Isn’t that amazing?”

. . .

He tried all sorts of different windups, he was like a kid who is so bored in a classroom that he finds 101 different uses for a pencil. He was half pitcher, half scientist, and that’s just not something you see in 20-year-old pitchers.

. . .

He told Emily Badger, a hometown reporter, “I think I’ll be way more excited when I get my first home run in the majors than getting my first win. I’ll remember that forever.”

So Greinke never struggled with command or velocity or lefties or anything on the field. Whenever he struggled, it seemed to stem at least somewhat from boredom. And I thought about that boredom after Greinke's five-inning, nine-K show against the Indians last week. After the game, he had an interesting – and I think incredibly telling – quote about how he was so dominant yet had to throw more than 100 pitches to navigate five innings.

“I treated every batter like I didn’t want him to get a hit on me, maybe was a little too fine,” Greinke said. “I didn’t give in one pitch the whole game. If I threw a fastball, I wanted it to be right on the corner, knee high— or inside corner, waist to stomach high. I was trying to make the perfect pitch too much.”

He is kind of disparaging himself there, saying he was “too fine,” conceding that maybe he was going for “the perfect pitch too much.” I like his candor and that he is able to give himself an honest critique; that’s cool for a pro athlete to do. But I think that is a loaded quote, and it shows more than humility. I think that it speaks to Greinke’s past boredom on the mound.

Again, I don’t know this, but I suspect it: I think that in an attempt to keep things interesting, Greinke isn’t simply trying to have quality starts or scatter hits or give the bullpen a lead. I think he is making a conscious effort to be perfect, to have a 0.00 ERA, like, for a while. Wasn’t he saying as much in that quote? “I didn’t give in one pitch.” Maybe that’s code for, I've been good, now I want to be something else altogether. Maybe that’s how he stays un-bored.

The way he pitched this spring adds to my speculation about him trying to find things (like a 0.00) to occupy himself on the mound. Remember – Greinke got shelled this spring. He was 3-3 with a 9.21 ERA. Something was awry. Either he was hurt, something was off mentally (again), or he was finding ways to keep from getting bored. Well, I think it was the latter. (All quotes from the KC Star.)

“I threw just one breaking pitch,” Greinke said after his spring debut, “but they come easy to me. So I don’t have to work on that as much. I was just trying to get a good backspin on the fastball and good arm speed on the change-up.”

. . .

“I can spot my fastball and I can throw my slider where I want,” he said. “Realistically, I can get batters out with just those two pitches. But I’d like to add that change-up. That would really make me tough.”

. . .

After getting lit up against Texas, he said, “That pitch (the changeup) is the only thing I'm thinking about in spring training.”

Greinke knew that he could have gone out this spring and mowed people down with his fastball and curve. He knew that his stuff was good enough to reek havoc in spring ball. But honestly, that might have been boring, might have been too easy. So instead of throwing flames all spring, Greinke worked on his change-up. He worked on his worst pitch, and was unabshed about his plan to do so. He was throwing his most hittable offering to batters that probably knew what was coming. And as a result, there were more hits than a Cheech and Chong movie. But you could tell that Greinke didn’t care about that. He found something to keep things interesting – that change-up – and seemed to use it as a way to avoid boredom.

I think now that the regular season has rolled around, Greinke has a new way to keep from being bored: To be the absolute best pitcher in the Majors. But because this is Greinke we’re talking about, a guy who will talk at length about his affinity for Chipotle or admit his anguish over the Brad Pitt/Angelina Jolie break up, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if Greinke is fixing for something other than just being really good.

I think he’s gunning for something more than good, more than great. So I won’t be surprised if this 0.00 ERA survives the Texas series and maybe even another few starts after that. After all, being dominant is boring compared to being perfect.

Royals vs Rangers: Big sticks meet nasty strikes

2009-04-17T08:29:00.003-05:00

(Column also available here.)

This early in the baseball season, you sometimes have to fabricate storylines to spice things up. There are still about 150 chances to make up for a loss, and just as many opportunities to squander any win-induced momentum. So some of these April games require some imagination to become more interesting.

Let’s practice…Colorado at Arizona? Hey, it’s the two highest-altitude teams in the Majors. Toronto at Minnesota? Easy – it’s a matchup of dome teams. The Nationals versus the Phillies? The team that has the Liberty Bell in their logo heads to the nation’s capital. Now we can see who is really the more patriotic squad.

But this weekend, there will be one matchup that brings its own story to the table. One series is truly intriguing, truly worth watching – even if we’re still in that everyone-has-a-chance part of the schedule. The hard-hitting, high-scoring Rangers will host the flame-throwing, out-striking Royals. The Royals’ top three arms, which could be the best top-of-the-rotation in the league, will try to shut down a Rangers squad that scores more than Wilt Chamberlain. Yep, this Kansas City-Texas series packs its own drama: The American League’s best bats versus the American League’s best top of the rotation.

The Rangers and the Royals have distinct philosophies about how to win. Sure, every team wants to score runs, every team wants to limit opponents’ runs, every team simply wants to end the night with the higher score. Obviously. But Texas and Kansas City operate on the fringes of the score-more-than-they-do philosophy. The Rangers epitomize the Big Ball style of swinging for the fences, and the Royals are bringing a rotation that features a chic Cy Young pick – Zack Greinke – and he’s not even the No. 1 starter.

The Rangers play like they’re ticked off at the scoreboard operator. They are averaging a hair less than nine runs per game so far this season, and they have hit double digits in three of their first nine games, including a 19-run smashfest in their last outing. Ian Kinsler is hitting .474, and while that number will no doubt deflate a bit, he hit .319 last season, which was fourth in the Majors. And Josh Hamilton, who knocked in a league-best 130 RBIs last season, is swinging a similarly hot bat in 2009 with eight ribbies already. Six Rangers with at least 24 at-bats are hitting above .275, and three of them are hitting at least .300.

That 19-run outburst may skew things a bit, but still, the Rangers always mash the ball. They are first in the league in runs scored, first in home runs, first in slugging percentage, first in on-base-plus-slugging and second in triples. Think it’s a fluke? Look at the slap-stick offensive numbers they boasted last season. The Rangers were tops in runs, hits and batting average, to name a few, and scored at least 10 runs 25 times. Everything is bigger in Texas, including the bats.

Alas, the Rangers don’t exactly shut down their opponents. They are giving up about seven runs per outing so far this season and are 27th in team ERA; they were 30th in that category last season. Oh, and speaking of last season, the Rangers lost three of those 10-run games, including one that ended in a 19-17 defeat. (And yeah, it was only nine innings.)

So that’s how the Rangers operate. They score a ton of runs, and give up nearly as many. The idea is that if they average nine per outing, their opponents simply won’t be able to keep up. They are the Phoenix Suns of baseball.

The Royals are the antithesis: Quiet bats, nasty arms. So far this season, KC’s top three have pitched 37.2 innings and given up just eight runs. Gil Meche, Greinke and Kyle Davies are all in the top 20 in ERA; Greinke still has a 0.00 through two starts. Meche owns a sub-4.00 ERA over the previous two seasons, Greinke is averaging more than 13 Ks per nine innings and Davies is 6-1 dating back to last September. These guys can play.

And just as the Rangers have all sorts of hitting and no pitching, the Royals own a killer top-three with and a dearth of offense. They were 25th in the Majors in runs last season, 27th in homers and 25th in slugging percentage. Things aren’t going much better so far this season – KC is 28th in runs, 26th in hits and dead-last in batting average. Yet despite the lack of scoring, only once in six starts have one of thee top-three not handed a lead to the bullpen.

Maybe the most telling stat on the ying-and-yang matchup between Texas and Kansas City is this: In the Rangers’ five loses, the combined score was 42-23, or an average of about 8-5. In the Royals’ four losses, the combined score was 19-8, or an average of 5-2. So when the Rangers lose, they lose shootouts. When the Royals lose, they lose snoozers.

Texas and Kansas City is one of the season’s most interesting pre-summer matchups. A team that relies on ruthless offense squares off against a team that relies on shut-down pitching. And it just so happens that the team that hits well can’t pitch, and the team with the pitchers doesn’t have many batters. Who knows what will happen. What we do know is that there is no need to come up with storylines for this one.

So far, Pioli looking a bit like Peterson

2009-04-16T09:39:00.003-05:00

There’s an endless list of reasons why most Kansas City Chiefs fans rejoiced when Carl Peterson resigned last season. After an abysmal two-year stretch, no playoff wins in forever and little sign of improvement, the Peterson-Chiefs divorce didn't surprise or upset many KC fans.

But the one thing that will largely define – mar, rather – the Peterson Era was this: His off-season signings were usually the result of a trip to the retirement home. There was an endless procession of former stars who came to KC to burn out, the result of Peterson trying to keep the Chiefs contending annually. Instead of investing in youngsters and conceding an effort to rebuild, Peterson would pluck guys out of the used players lot and hope they had something left in the tank. Often times, they didn’t.

Now, this complaint doesn’t at all monopolize fans’ dissatisfaction with Carl. People said that he handed out big contracts to the wrong players, and it’s hard to argue with that. Peterson gave Larry Johnson $19 million in guaranteed money one season after Johnson had more carries – 416 – than an NBA point guard. Johnson promptly fell apart physically, and has played just 20 games the past two years.

People said that Peterson didn’t hang on to the right players, and it’s hard to argue with that. Peterson alienated and dealt Jared Allen – coming off a 15.5-sack season – and then watched his comical defensive ensemble set a league record for sacking futility. Allen had 14.5 sacks last season, KC had 10, an all-time low.

People said that Peterson refused to draft and groom a QB and instead just signed other teams’ cast-aways, and it’s hard to argue with that. Steve DeBerg, Joe Montana, Elvis Grbac and Trent Green were all guys who the Chiefs were able to nab because other teams weren’t too interested in QBs whose careers began when there weren’t facemasks.

Peterson was guilty of all these things. And sure, if LJ had another couple of Pro Bowl seasons, if Allen flopped in Minnesota, if Montana or Green had led the Chiefs to a Super Bowl, then some of Peterson’s decisions would be viewed differently. But his moves never led to anything. On the rare occasion the Chiefs made the postseason, only heartache awaited.

But of all the things that people railed against Peterson for, the biggest grievance was probably his eagerness to sign old players. Players who had been around, who were well past their prime, who were a quick fix at best and a total waste of money at worst. That philosophy ultimately led to the hapless crew we’ve watched the past couple of years. Indeed, the team’s recent youth movement came on the heels of years and years of signing the grandfathers of the NFL. It was a false hope, an unwillingness to try something new. Peterson annually littered his roster with players whose days were numbered, and that, as much as anything, tainted his tenure in KC.

Evidence abound for this. Montana and Marcus Allen were both solid for the Chiefs, but neither of them were able to recapture their early-career magic in KC. Makes sense, too – Allen was 33 when he came to KC, Montana was 37. Ty Law, who was given a five-year, $30 million contract, was 32 when he first dawned Chiefs red; Patrick Sutrain was 29 when he received a $50 million deal; Green was 31; Sammy Knight was a week short of 31 when he came to KC; Donnie Edwards’ second stint with the Chiefs began when he was 34. And while 31 or 34 isn’t old in real life, those are geriatrics in the NFL.

Plus, it’s not like these were roster-filling singings. These were starters playing important positions. These were guys who had performed as youngsters, but who shouldn’t have been trusted to play very well or very long as Chiefs. True, Green and Montana were both quite productive as Chiefs. Allen was a fan favorite. Law had a few good games. But the philosophy behind these acquisitions ultimately cost the Chiefs. The team seemed averse to young players, and every off-season there was a procession of graying, past-their-prime veterans infiltrating the Chiefs roster.

But what’s interesting is that the practice of signing old players – which Peterson parlayed into a playoff victory as often as a new president took office – is being repeated by Peterson’s replacement, Scott Pioli. Look at the aged crew that has been signed this off-season. Wide receiver Bobby Engram is 36. O-lineman Mike Goff is 33. Linebacker Monty Beisel is 31. Linebacker Zach Thomas is 35. That’s a lot of, um, experience that Pioli is bringing in. And it is really interesting that in Pioli’s first off-season in KC, he had brought in four 31-plus year-old dudes. Interesting because it's exactly what Peterson would always do.

Now, there are a few big differences between what Pioli is doing and what Peterson did. Pioli’s guys, unlike a lot of Peterson’s, aren’t quite as integral to the team. Montana and Allen comprised the starting backfield, and Knight, Surtain and Law were all starting DBs. So while next season’s new faces are anything but new, the Chiefs won’t be quite so reliant on them. Plus, Pioli is not ponying up as much money to these guys’ retirement funds as Peterson did. Think about it: The contracts of Surtain and Law totaled $80 million. That kind of money isn’t being dished out by Pioli – thank god. Pioli also has invested heavily in a young quarterback – Matt Cassel – which is something that Peterson, again, seemed loathe to do. So there are differences here.

But still, there are a lot of very, very veteran players joining the Chiefs this season. Now, maybe Pioli is only going to operate like this for one season. Maybe he sees these guys as quick fixes and not as long-term solutions, which is how Peterson seemed to think of the guys he kept bringing in. But it is indeed interesting that Pioli is invoking the fateful Peterson strategy of spending the off-season shopping for guys who are so old. We saw this with Peterson, and we all know it gets old.

Collins and Aldrich: Forgoing NBA counts as KU's first win of next season

2009-04-15T10:34:00.005-05:00

Nowhere near the basketball court and 12 months away on the calendar, the Kansas Jayhawks took a huge step toward the 2010 Final Four on Monday. KU defeated the biggest obstacle between itself and a second national title in three years: The NBA.

Sherron Collins and Cole Aldrich, both of whom figured to be first-round draft picks this summer, have eschewed the NBA and decided to return to KU next season. They said the like college. They said they want to see their names in the Allen Fieldhouse rafters. They said they want another national title. They have their reasons for forgoing the pros, and that they did stands as the biggest reason why KU fans can start to salivate over next year’s squad.

It’s simple, yet incredibly complicated: You don’t win national titles without NBA-caliber players, and you don’t win national titles unless those players – for whatever reason – opt to stick around college for a while. It’s a delicate balance – pro talent that likes college. It’s hard to come by, yet it’s impossible to win without it.

The NBA has had an incalculable impact on the Final Four. In some ways, that’s a no-brainer statement: of course whether or not players stick around impacts the fate of their college teams. But anymore, it’s not merely some variable. It is the variable. It’s more important than how good your freshmen are, whether your sophomores progressed from last season, if everyone is healthy and so on. Nowadays, the NBA decision has everything to do with who wins it all. Spring-time decisions about the NBA are the biggest factor in next season’s success.

We’ll go back to 2003 to look at this. That is somewhat arbitrary, but it’s a good benchmark because that was when leaving college early was all the rage, and skipping college altogether, which has since been banned, was still allowed.

If you remember, Carmelo Anthony, who led Syracuse to that 2003 title, was thinking about going pro straight out of high school. After Anthony signed on to play at Syracuse, the student paper read, “While that is music to the ears of SU fans, Anthony has said that, should he be projected as a top-five pick in this June's NBA Draft, it would be a tough offer to turn down.” Of course, it turns out that Anthony wasn’t going to be a top five pick, and he decided to go to Syracuse, a decision that earned him millions in the long run. And that’s why 2003 is so instructive: Syracuse’s national title is invariably tied up with the fate of Anthony’s NBA decision.*

* And if Syracuse didn’t win that title, Kansas would have. And Kansas’ top two players were Nick Collison and Kirk Hinrich, both of whom could have gone pro the prior year.

The same thing happened in 2004, when Ben Gordon and Omeka Okafor led UConn to a title, even though Gordon had averaged 19.5 points the previous season and Okafor averaged 15.9 points, 11.2 rebounds and 4.7 blocks. Both of them could have gone pro before that 2004 title, and neither did.

The same thing happened in 2005, when Sean May and Rashad McCants and Raymond Felton all came back to UNC when they could have gone pro.

The same thing happened in 2006 and 2007, when Florida’s quartet of first-rounders led the Gators to back-to-back titles before going pro after their junior seasons.

The same thing happened in 2008, in what may be the most interesting NBA plot twist in recent history. Kansas’ Brandon Rush was gone, out the Draft Door, when he blew his knee and was forced to begrudgingly return to college despite being a sure-fire first-round pick. (The Rush situation is doubly interesting because he also declared for the NBA out of high school, but not liking where he was projected to get drafted, decided to stop at KU to pump up his stock. That he was there for three years was an incredible bit of luck.)

The same thing happened in 2009, when North Carolina’s top four players all could have gone pro, and none did.

Every national champion since 2003 has struck the jackpot on the NBA quandary. The fact that these teams’ stars were good enough to go pro yet passed on the NBA lay at the foundation of their titles.

And that’s why what happened this week at Kansas is such big news for the Jayhawks. Anymore, title runs start the preceding spring, when NBA decisions are being mulled over. That’s when a team’s fate is largely determined. Seriously, you don’t win national championships anymore if you don’t first win the battle with the NBA. Sure, it’s important to KU where Xavier Henry winds up. Same with Lance Stephenson; either one of those guys would help KU immensely.

But they aren’t as important as Aldrich and Collins, who followed in the footsteps of the past several national champions: good enough for the pros, happy enough in college. KU had no shot at a title if Collins and Aldrich skipped town. But now that those two are staying put, the Jayhawks are the clear front-runner to win it all. And it's because they just went 2-0 versus the NBA.

Here's a little Nugget: Denver is good

2009-04-14T11:06:00.002-05:00

(Column also available here.)

Maybe it’s supposed to be a secret. Few people seem to know, and even fewer are talking about it. So you might not want to tell anyone. And if you have to, please, keep it down.

But under the radar, off the magazine covers and rarely on TV, the Denver Nuggets are having one of the best seasons in the NBA. Because the Western Conference standings are tighter than a banjo, there is a chance that things could change. But right now, the Nuggets are the No. 2 seed in the West, and they can do no worse than third even with a loss Wednesday against Portland. Their success, and the fact that they’ve done it in the Contender Protection Program, makes them the best team that no one is talking about.

After trouncing Sacramento 118-98 Monday night, Denver pushed their record to a franchise-best 54-27, better than everyone out West besides the Lakers. The Nugs are 9-1 over their last 10 games, which is tops in the league over that span. They have scored 100 points in 16 straight games, going 14-2, and have locked up the Northwest Division title.

It is sometimes hard to quantify the absence of something. But lost in the palpable hype surrounding LeBron and Kobe and the Celtics (is KG’s knee OK?!?!) are the Nuggets. This is the hottest team in the league, a team with a former NBA Finals MVP, Chauncey Billups, running the point. A team with a burgeoning young superstar, Carmelo Anthony, who has finally added hunger to his immense list of attributes. A team that ditched its leading scorer, Allen Iverson, yet is winning more. This is one of the league’s best stories – certainly its best untold story.

Maybe history has people blinded to the Nuggets’ success. After all, Denver has gone to the Playoffs each of the last five seasons, only to bow out feebly in round one. The Nuggets were swept last season by San Antonio, and won exactly one game in each of the previous four trips against the Spurs (twice), Clippers and Timberwolves. Maybe that 4-16 Playoff record has made them invisible. Maybe people have gone ahead and preemptively written Denver off because, well, the team’s playoff performances make them hard to believe in.

Or maybe personnel is why mum’s the word on the Nuggets. Iverson is no longer with the team. The league’s leading shot blocker in 2008, Marcus Camby, was dealt in the off-season. The team’s key addition, Billups, is more methodical than engine repair. Oh, and the Kobe-LeBron-Wade MVP saga doesn’t involved any Nuggets.

In a lot of ways, I guess it makes sense that people are sleeping on Denver. But for the first time in years, it looks like the Nuggets are poised to break out of the first round and into Western Conference title contention. You wouldn’t know it, however, unless you were really paying attention.

The Nuggets are in this position thanks to some deft from office work, and that’s a welcome change from a years-long string of iffy moves. The Iverson-Anthony experiment simply didn’t work. Those two made for some entertainment, but not enough wins. And then there was the Kenyon Martin acquisition back in 2004, which crippled the Nuggets after they signed the overrated Martin to a ludicrous seven-year, $91 million contract. To be honest, the Nuggets are still paying the price for that one, seeing as Martin averages 11.7 points and six rebounds, yet will make the absurd total of $14.4 million this year. To put that in perspective, Denver forward Chris “Birdman” Anderson outrebounds Martin playing 12 fewer minutes per game and making $13.6 million less.

So yeah, the Nuggets have not made good decisions with personnel in the past five years. Iverson was a 26-point-per-game mistake, and Martin earns like $350,000 per rebound. Some of the Nuggets other problems can’t be blamed on the front office. Nene Hilario had injuries and even a bout with cancer, plus three of Denver’s last four first-round Playoff opponents were the eventual Western Conference champs. Some bad luck was involved too.

But the Nuggets dished Iverson for Billups, brought in the indefatigable Anderson – who’s good for an almost-Camby 2.5 blocks per game – and have watched Melo blossom into a star who, for the first time, seems content forfeiting points for wins. Plus the finally-healthy Nene is averaging 14.6 and 7.8. The past mistakes are finally in the past.

History is no reason to sleep on this season’s team, and neither is the fact that their collective ego is sedated compared to previous seasons. Anthony’s scoring is indeed down, but he is averaging a career low in minutes and shooting a career best from downtown. And while Billups lacks the tattoos, loose tongue and aesthetic flare that defined Denver’s old start guard, Mr. Big Shot has continued to produce. He is averaging 17.9 points, shooting 41 percent from distance and has an outrageous 2.8-to-1 assist ratio.

I don’t think that the Nuggets are going to win the NBA Finals, or even the Western Conference. My money, like most people’s, is on the Lakers to advance out of the West. But the Nuggets have a better team and a better chance than their dearth of media coverage would suggest.

As the standing sit today, the Nuggets would play the Mavericks in round one, a team that Denver swept 4-0 on the season. So don’t be surprised if you see their name pop up in round two – even if it’s the first time you’ve heard anyone say “Denver Nuggets” all season.

Stuff Watch, IX

2009-04-11T12:08:00.008-05:00

The Royals starting pitching went from unreal to simply solid yesterday. But really, that's OK.

Sydney Ponson got nicked up a bit, getting tagged for four runs through six innings. It really wasn't that bad, though; the defense let him down at least three times. Mike Aviles and Mike Jacobs each let hot grounders squirt past them, and some iffy plays at second -- twice failing to tag out runners when they should have been nabbed -- led to some runs that, according to the stats, were earned. But really, they weren't.

Regardless, Ponson looked fine. At least good enough to keep it close despite another abysmal offensive game. Bottom line, he had good stuff. Just ask catcher Miguel Olivo.

He was throwing good. His sinker was working, he pitched for a lot of ground balls. He looked good today, his stuff was sinking, he had good command. He got a couple balls up, but nobody’s perfect.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse, and thanks to America's strong history of protecting innovative ideas, this is the venue for this type of Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley uses the word "culture," go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Best-case vs worst-case: The wild disparity in KU's 2010 basketball roster

2009-04-11T11:55:00.004-05:00

It is probably a fair criticism of this blog to say that there is too much stuff about the Kansas Jayhawks. In my defense, the archive on the right side of the page has a handful of topics, and I have written diligently about the Chiefs, Royals, Tigers, Wildcats, hell, even Nebraska. I will admit, though, that the Jayhawks are eminent on this blog.

I have justifications, of course. Kansas City is 30-or-so minutes from Lawrence. KU has enjoyed more two-sport success the past few years than anyone else around (or afar). The subplots in Lawrence have really been interesting: a title team losing all its starters, a downtrodden football program notching its first-ever consecutive bowl streak, etc. There have been some good stories/excuses for me to write about the Jayhawks.

The bottom line, though, is that I simply like KU. I am a KU fan, a fact that is implied in any number of ways, be it the blog name (Fieldhouse), the caption to that monkey picture (Beware of the Blog), or the banner that sits atop the blog description (Pay Heed:). While it is a gross oversimplification to call this a “Kansas Blog,” I think it’s obvious enough there is a Kansas slant.

And that is why I am going to write about Kansas basketball right now. Yeah, the basketball season is over, but the stories continue to unfold. Thursday is was reported that junior guard Tyrone Appleton and freshman forward Quintrell Thomas are transferring from KU. Makes sense – those two played a combined 187 minutes.

They both ran into a bit of bad luck before their tenures at Kansas even began. Appleton inked his commitment before Tom Creen left Marquette, and therefore before Tyshawn Taylor had decommitted from Marquette and decided to come to Lawrence. And Thomas was on board before the Morris Brothers, and while those two are going to be a project, they still were apparently a better option that Thomas.*

* If anything, this proves that high school kids should take their sweet time deciding on a college. Maybe Appleton would have still been a Jayhawk if he knew about Taylor, and maybe Thomas wouldn’t have shied away from a competition with the Morris Bros. But maybe Appleton and Thomas would have reconsidered, knowing that playing time would be at an absolute premium. There is also the fact that coaches hop around well into the late spring. These kids should be selfish when it comes to deciding a school. They should make teams wait on them, because if they don’t, they’re liable to find themselves with different teammates or even a different coach than they expected. Now, maybe Thomas wanted to hop on board early to dissuade other bigs from coming to KU, or maybe he wanted to show loyalty and eagerness and possibly put himself in a better position to get PT. If that was his plan, it obviously didn’t work. These guys are evidence that what a player signs up for may be totally different than what they get when they arrive. And evidence that they shouldn’t be in any hurry to ink that letter of intent.

Anyway, those transfers have reminded all Kansas fans – including the author of this blog – that next season’s roster is still totally up in the air. That’s why today, I want to look at the best- and worst-case roster scenarios for KU’s 2009-10 team, which could enter the season ranked anywhere from No. 1 to – no joke – receiving votes. How could a team that was young and went to the Sweet 16 not be ranked to start the season? Read on…

Worst-case

Sherron Collins and Cole Aldrich leave. I personally don’t think this will happen, but it could. Anyone frequenters of this blog know that I think Collins should go pro if his primary concern is draft stock, but those same readers surely know that I like KU too much not to want Collins back. I love him as a player, but let’s get real: What could he possibly do next season to inflate his stock? He averaged 19 points – more than 25 in the tourney – and led a young and underwhelming crew to the Sweet 16. If he comes back, he will average fewer points, probably play fewer points and could be plagued with injuries, like he was during his first two seasons in L-Town. I want Collins back, make no mistake. But unless he just loves college or loves the idea of winning another national title, he really should go.

As for Aldrich, who knows. His stock is already higher than Collins’, and I don’t think it could possibly go down after another season. However, unlike Collins, his draft status could go up even more with another year. Tricky decision.

Regardless, suppose they both go. That leaves a huge void at point and down low. And then, since this is worst-case, let’s say that KU doesn’t get Xavier Henry or Lance Stephenson. Preliminary reports on Henry’s reopened recruiting are that he is leaning toward Kansas. But it’s no sure thing. He could follow John Calipari to Kentucky, he could go to Memphis, he could go anywhere.

And as far as Stephenson, he is a wildcard too. Depending on which rumors you have heard, Stephenson is either upset at Kansas for showing favoritism to Henry, or he still seriously considering Kansas. If that doesn’t speak to the unreliability of recruiting news – how it’s all little more than hearsay – then I don’t know what does.

If all of that happens – no Collins and Aldrich, no Stephenson and Henry – then KU’s starting lineup would likely be:

Tyshawn Taylor
Brady Morningstar
Mario Little
Marcus Morris
Jeff Withey (Arizona transfer eligible at semester)

Off the bench would be:

Tyrel Reed
Markieff Morris
Thomas Robinson
Elijah Johnson
Travis Releford

I don’t know exactly how the starter/sub thing would work out; this is just a guess. I certainly wouldn’t have pegged Morningstar as a starter this season – would you have? – but I think that those would be the top 10 guys. And really, Self is more likely to only play eight or nine. (I wouldn’t be shocked if Releford has trouble getting playing time again next season, even with the doomsday scenario of Collins, Aldrich, Henry and Stephenson not on the team.)

Best-case scenario

There are three things that will define the best-case scenario: Collins and Aldrich come back, and Henry decides to be a Jayhawk. If all of that happens, the talent and expectations change wildly.

Actually, there is a fourth variable worth noting: Speculation still abounds that Stephenson would join Henry at KU. The Kansas City Star’s Jason Whitlock wrote as much a couple weeks ago. Now, the way he wrote it makes you wonder how much credibility there is to this rumor, if any:

Well, I had a coach swear to me early Friday morning over drinks at the Canadian Ballet that Lance Stephenson would join Henry at Kansas.

How in God’s name does this (unnamed) coach know that? We don’t know. We also don’t know if this is a pro, college, high school or grade school coach. Or even a basketball coach. All we know is that the idea was floated over an a.m. drinking session, so its validity is something to be taken not with a grain of salt, but with a huge pile of salt.

It could get even better. In that same article, Whitlock also wrote:

OK, here’s the kicker. Daniel Orton, Rivals.com’s No. 22 player and a Kentucky-Gillispie recruit, is allegedly considering asking Kentucky for a release and signing with the Jayhawks. Orton is a 6-10 post player.

Really, it would be foolhardy to take these statements too seriously. An unnamed coach (who’s been drinking) and the word “allegedly” aren’t things to take to the bank. But since I assumed the absolute worst for the worst-case scenario, I’ll go ahead and consider for a moment that this trifecta of talent is a legitimate possibility.

Anyway, if Collins and Aldrich stay, the staring lineup looks like last 2008’s; it looks like an NBA roster:

Collins
Taylor
Henry
Marcus Morris (?)
Aldrich

Even the bench would boast NBA players:

Stephenson
Little
Orton
Robinson
Withey
Morningstar
Reed
Releford

In this best-case scenario, think what KU would be bringing off the pine: a top-10 recruit (Stephenson), a 6-11 center (Withey), instant offense (Little), an ’09 starter (Morningstar) and a couple other players who, during another year or on another team, would be starting.

Anyway, I am really fascinated by the incredible disparity in what could happen next season. If KU brings in these studs, and Collins and Aldrich stay, my God. A starter from last season would be stuck on the bench, five-star recruits and McDonald’s All-Americans would scrapping for minutes, national title talk would begin well before Midnight Madness. But if things fall apart in the next few weeks, if Collins and Aldrich leave, if KU can’t land these recruits, then the team would be even more depleted than they were this season. Not that KU was bad this year or something, but it wasn’t your typical all-world cast of characters.

We should know in the next few weeks. And once we do, and all the dust settles, I may have to once and for all take a break from writing about KU for a while. But until then…

Farnsworth gets booed by home fans: lame

2009-04-10T22:45:00.005-05:00

I found myself in a deep slumber today after pounding a double cheeseburger and onion rings from Winstead’s for lunch. The meal reinforced my belief that if you get anything besides onion rings as a side from Winstead’s, that’s a shame. And 50-50s don't count as onion rings.

Anyway, so I was napping pretty hard, but lugged myself out of bed at the behest of my alarm clock because, by God, I was not going to miss the Royals home opener. I wasn’t attending the game itself – a ticket, I did not have – but I wanted to watch it on TV. There is still something special about the home opener even if you’re not there, plus I was really anxious to see:

a) Sydney Ponson pitch
b) the New Kauffman Stadium
c) whether or not the Royals’ bats would wake up.*

* BTW, the bats remain asleep, as the Royals scored one measly run, bringing their grand total through four games to seven. Less that two per. Bad.

But what I got upon turning on the TV was not the opening pitch, which was slated to be at 3:10. When I flipped on the telly at 3:10, the Royal were knee-deep in pregame hoopla. There was quite a bit of pomp before this game, what with this being the team’s 40th anniversary, Opening Day and Opening Day of a newly-renovated stadium, no less. While initially annoyed that I missed out on Zs for this, I am glad I caught the festivities. I felt like I was there.

Finally, they got to announcing the Royals lineup. And there was something that I found a hair ridiculous when the non-starters were being introduced.

Let me again stress how big of a feel-good orgy it was before the game. Former Royals were on hand. People dutifully held flags in the outfield. George Brett was in the house. The new stadium was gleaming. Opening Day. The 40th Anniversary. Everyone was stoked, and the incessant cheering made it sound as such.

So, the pitchers were introduced. Ron Mahay received a solid ovation. Juan Cruz received a solid ovation. Zack Greinke received a thunderous ovation. People were geeked.

But then something really weird and lame happened. They introduced Kyle Farnsworth, and he was booed. Booed roundly, loudly, unmistakably. What gives?

Now, of course Farnsworth gave up the deciding home run in the Royals’ first game against the White Sox, a costly mistake that cost KC the ballgame. He served up a heater to Jim Thome, right down the pipe, a pitch that may as well have come with a ticket to whatever section of the outfield Thome wanted to send it. Thome belted it a long, long way. I know that. I know that Farnsworth cost the Royals their undefeated season, and I know that if the Royals don’t make the Playoffs, it is obviously Farnsworth’s fault.

But not only was he the only player who was booed; he was the only player who was not greeted like an All-Star. Alex Gordon, who went 2-for-10 in Chicago, got tons of love. So did Billy Butler, who didn’t have a single hit in Chicago. So did Miguel Olivo, a career .241 hitter, who also didn’t have a hit in Chi Town. Everyone got roundly applauded, cheered for, showered with love. Except Farnsworth. He got the treatment, the other kind of treatment, and I thought that was totally ridiculous.

Now, I don’t want to come off as too much of a Farnsworth apologist. He is the third-highest paid Royal this season at a hair under $6 million. If the boos got to his psyche, he has plenty of money to wipe away the tears. But seriously, that was an uncalled for reception. The guy had one bad game, one bad pitch, and that didn’t warrant a 39,000-person chorus of hate. Trey Hillman, the manager who thought it a good idea to leave Farnsworth in there against Thome, didn’t get booed. But man, did Farnsworth ever get it. I don’t oft feel bad for professional athletes, but I felt bad for him. This was his first time in KC wearing home white, and he definitely got a memorable welcome.

There are a (very) few things that I tout KC for having: great food, all four seasons, and people who – for the most part – are nicer than people in other big(ger) cities. Royals fans today weren’t nice. They jumped on Farnsworth like he was the reason Jose Guillen is already on the DL, the reason that KC can’t score runs, the reason that the icecaps are melting. Now, it's not encumbent upon sports fans to be nice all the time. I know that. But this shower of seeming hatred came on Opening Day, on the heels of such a prolonged display of team pride and happiness. It was just really strange.

Naturally, Farnsworth got in the game today, in the seventh, and killed it. He struck out the side. And not just that, he struck out the meat of the Yankee lineup – Johnny Damon, Mark Teixeira and Hideki Matsui, each of whom went down whiffing. I don’t know if Farnsworth was especially motivated to show up the crowd that had been so unwarrantedly venomous. Maybe that was it. Maybe he had a little extra zip on his pitches thanks to spite.

Or maybe he was just showing everybody why he is making so much money. I admit, he is overpaid. Dayton Moore will do that sometimes, overpay guys. But there is a reason. The guy throws incredibly hard, and the guy can get outs. He made the Yankees’ 2-3-4 guys look 7-8-9. The Royals still lost, 4-1, but this time, you would have trouble blaming Farnsworth.

Look, if Farnsworth does what he did today a few more times, people will quickly forget about that Chicago mishap. Regardless, people still shouldn’t have reacted the way they did today.

I won’t say “Shame on you” to the fans in attendance; that’d be a little haughty. I’ll instead officially coin my own expression: Lame on you.

Anxious to see what Ponson can do

2009-04-10T08:27:00.006-05:00

As far as his checkered past, which includes multiple DUIs and reportedly assaulting an Aruban judge, I’m not too worried about it. Not that I’m OK with DUIs or beating up judges and the like; drunk driving is pretty deplorable actually. I’m just saying that I want to see Sydney Ponson pitch.

The early returns – really early – on the Royals pitching staff look good. If nothing else, the Royals, who sit alone atop the AL Central at 2-1, look like they will be losing-streak-proof. With Gil Meche and Zack Greinke manning the top of the rotation, and Kyle Davies holding down the No. 3 spot, the Royals don’t look likely to string together too many consecutive losses. Of course the starters' incalculably low ERA will balloon eventually, but the top three spots of rotation seem to be locked down. There will hiccups, yes, but that 1-2-3 combo looks too good for the problems to persist too long.

The biggest question marks -- maybe the only question marks -- in the Royals starting rotation remain the No. 4 and No. 5 guys. Not too much can be expected from the No. 5 guy. But this No. 4 spot is interesting. The expectations for Ponson will be decidedly (and deservedly) lower than Meche and Greinke and Davies, but it would be pretty awesome if Ponson could simply be productive.

Whatever he does today against the Yankees in the Royals' home opener will be preliminary: If he gets shelled, well, it’s just one game, and it’s the Yankees; if he pitches great, well, it’s just one game, and he likely will not be as excited and focused about any game all season as he will for the Home Opener – barring a playoff start. (Hey, I can dream.)

Anyway, I don’t have much else to say. Just that I am curious to see how Ponson will follow up the impossibly difficult task of trying to match what the one-through-three guys did against the White Sox. He can’t possibly be that good, but I would gladly settle for good.

Royals pitching good enough to hope

2009-04-09T11:07:00.004-05:00

(Column also available here.)

It comes as news to no one, but the baseball season is a long ordeal. It lasts six whole months if you don’t count training camp and the Playoffs, and nine months if you do. There are 162 games, which is double the NBA, double the NHL and 10 times the NFL. The schedule spans three seasons, so cold at the outset that the White Sox canceled Monday because of snow, so hot in the middle you want to kill whoever scheduled that 1:05 start time, and so cold at the end that a “wintry mix” delayed the 2008 World Series.

Yes, the baseball season is a marathon, and with all the teams having played but a few games, it is futile to read too much into anything that’s happened so far.

But while thinking World Series or Division title or even All-Star break is premature, it is not too early to hope. After all, a great thing about early-season baseball is: everyone has a chance even if, really, they don’t. Hope is especially useful for fans of teams like the Kansas City Royals, who haven’t been a threat to win the AL Central in years, and who haven’t played in the Playoffs in more than two decades.

The biggest reason for hope right now in KC is its 1-2 pitching combo of Gil Meche and Zack Greinke. Now, those two cannot possibly maintain the numbers that they have accrued through two games, giving up a combined 10 hits and one earned run. But it’s still got to be exciting for Royals fans because right now, there is no reason to think that Kansas City doesn’t have the best top-of-the-rotation tandem in baseball. Or at least no reason not to hope they do.

In his Opening Day start against the White Sox, Meche threw seven splendid innings, struck out six, surrendered just one run, and only needed 91 pitches – 62 of which were strikes – to cruise right on through the Seventh Inning Stretch.

Greinke had a similarly brilliant outing in the second game, a 2-0 Royals win. He went six innings with seven Ks, gave up no runs and just three hits – all singles.

Stats after two games, like anything after two games, are pretty flimsy. But every team in baseball had its top pitchers start the season. So the stats below, while incredibly premature, are at least in comparison to everyone else’s aces as well. And KC looks great.

The Royals are fourth in strike outs per game. They are third in batting average against. They are second in team ERA. No American League team has had fewer walks.

Caveats and asterisks abound, and there are a slue of reasons for fans in KC to be suspicious of this team. The Royals are only No. 3 in batting average against because the White Sox – who the Royals are playing – are No. 2; the Royals are hitting just .194. Plus, the Boys in Blue have managed just four runs in two games, which would be dead last in the AL if not for the Chi Sox struggling so mightily to score against the Royals.

But there is hope for the Royals still. Greinke and Meche were more than serviceable last season. Both had sub-4.00 ERAs, both pitched 200 innings, both averaged about eight Ks per nine innings, they went a combined 27-21 on a team totally devoid of hitting. So while hoping for brilliance out of these two is a leap, hoping for quality isn’t.

Again, I know that these numbers will change, that Greinke isn’t going to have a 0.00 ERA for very long, that Meche won’t average just 13 pitches per inning all season, and so on. Early-season stats – at least this early – are deceiving. (Albert Pujols, for example, isn’t going to continue to hit .600. Actually, maybe he will. Who knows what that guy’s capable of?)

This season still has six months and two drastic weather changes to go. But the early returns – really, really early returns – on the top of the Royals rotation are good. Certainly good enough to hope, and at this point, that’s all you can hope for.

If Shaquille O'Neal could hit free throws, his career numbers would be...

2009-04-08T13:16:00.009-05:00

As a lifelong basketball nut who never had an NBA career outside of a Playstation, there is something sickening about watching NBA players who are worse at stuff than I am. I mean, do they not realize that this is their job? Do they not realize that I would do what they do – play basketball in front of thousands and thousands of people – for free? Hell, I’d pay to do that.

Besides the occasional center who is a hapless dribbler, free throws are the area where I could really cry nanny-nanny-boo-boo on not a few NBA players. That is one thing I can absolutely do that some NBA guys can't, and it's pretty ridiculous.

I’m not blowing smoke about being able to can freebies. In my men’s league this season, I was 85.7 percent. I once his a 33 straight. I competed in a district-wide free throw competition in sixth grade. Basically, I can hold my own and then some at the line. I know that the NKCCC rec league doesn't offer many pressure-packed situations, but even if big-time game pressure had an erosive effect on my percentage, it wouldn't hurt that much. I could still can three out of four, no problem. (If any NBA GMs want to test me on that, I'd be glad to prove it. I'm not above a 10-day contract.)

No player exemplifies my ability to out-free throw someone than Shaq. Not that he is the worst free throw shooter in NBA history, or even in recent history. Ben Wallace is worse, Chris Dudley was worse when he played, and Wilt Chamberlin could easily out-clank Shaq. But Shaq is a perennial All-Star, a sure-fire Hall of Famer and one of the most recognizable American athletes ever. And the dude simply can't shoot free throws, nor summon the energy to learn how. Yeah, he's shooting a career-best free throw percentage this season. But first off, that career best is a still-crummy 60 percent, and it took him like 28 years in the league to bother getting any better.

A large part of Shaq’s job is spent at the free throw line. If there were a résumé describing the job that Shaq is out there to do, it would talk about grabbing rebounds, throwing outlet passes and slamming home dunks. But the job description would also say, “Because this is an opening for the center position, fouls are inevitable. Therefore, ideal candidates should have experience and skill at the line.”

Now, I realize that there is plenty that Shaq can do that I can’t – dunk, block shots, weigh 330 pounds. But those are things I can’t do because I am 5-11, or 6-1 if you look in the media guide. I say this without kidding: There is nothing that Shaquille O’Neal can do on a basketball court that I can’t that isn’t a direct result of his size. Nothing. I'm serious.

So I got to wondering, How much better would Shaq’s career numbers be if he hit free throws like a real pro, or at least like any competent little league player? This topic intrigued for two reasons: I am a stat dorks, and I cringe when I can do things better than NBA players – and I'm telling you, I can shoot free throws way better than Shaq. A lot of people can, really.

I busted out the calculator and got to work, and I was a little surprised at the results. You should go ahead and venture a guess yourself, just to see how close you get.

Before I continue to lambaste one of the all-time NBA greats, I will pause to say that Shaq has had an incredible career. He's got four championships, an lifetime membership in the All-Star game, and something like five of the top 10 funniest things NBA players have ever said. And the fact that he has played for so long in the league, and has a (near) handful of rings, is evidence that he is good enough at other things -- namely being a Goliath -- to outweigh his ineptitude at the free throw line. He has more than 2,600 career blocks and more than 12,500 rebounds. He easily averages a career double-double, he’s a shoe-in for the Hall of Fame. He's a legend, for sure.

But what he can’t do is shoot free throws. And free throws, unlike the blocks and boards and banter, are something you learn to to do via repetition, in a gym, through tedious hard work.*

* And don't tell me his hands are too big. They're not too big for his shots to go in half the time, so why are they too big for his shots to go in the other half? I always thought that was such a silly excuse.

First, a look at Shaq’s numbers, the ones that reflect how fruitless (or non-existent) his off-season free throw training is....

Through 70 games this year, Shaq had attempted 10,854 free throws during his career. If you do anything more than 10,000 times in your life, you may as well become good at it. Unless you’re Shaq. Of those 10,854 free throws, he had made 5,732, or 52.8 percent. Also through 70 games this season, he had 27,549 points, which, over the course of his 1,112-game regular-season career – playoff stats are a different animal – makes for a 24.77 points per game average.

The way I went about this was:

(1) Multiply his total number of free throw attempts, 10,854, by some hypothetical percentage. The product would give me the total number of free throws Shaq would have made if he shot said percentage.

(2) Then, I subtracted 5,732 -- his total number of made free throws -- from whatever the (1) product was. That gave me the difference in what is and what could have been.

(3) I then added that number from (2), that difference, to Shaq's all-time point total, and divided by 1,112, his total number of games, which gave me the difference in his real points per game, and what that number could have been.*

* There may have been a more efficient way to do this. But since we're talking about Shaq's free throws, that ugly, herky-jerky, leaning, off-balance disgrace, I felt it appropriate to use a formula that left something to be desired.

A biproduct of this equation is the total number of points squandered at the line, but I think points per game is the best way to analyze those missed opportunities, the best way to glean some real perspective.

The ensuing equations are as follows:

(1) Hypothetical % = hypothetical total of FTM out of 10,854
(2) Hypothetical total of FTM - real number of FTM = points he could have*
(3) (Actual points + points he could have) / games = coulda been PPG

* This product is the number of total points Shaq forfeited by sucking at free throws.

Remember, his actual points per game (PPG), as a 52.8 percent free throw shooter, is 24.77...

60 percent = 6512.4
6512.4 – 5732 = 780.4
27549 + 780.4 / 1112 = 25.476 PPG

65 percent = 7055.1
7055.1 – 5732 = 1323.1
27549 + 1323.1 / 1112 = 25.96 PPG

70 percent = 7597.8
7597.8 – 5732 = 1865.8
27549 + 1865.8 / 1112 = 26.452 PPG

75 percent = 8140.5
8140.5 – 5732 = 2408.5
27549 + 2408.5 / 1112 = 26.94 PPG

If he shot like me
85.7 percent = 9301.878
9301.878 - 5732 = 3569.878
27549 + 3569.878 / 1112 = 27.985 PPG

88 percent = 9551.52
9551.52 – 5732 = 3819.52
27549 + 3819.52 / 1112 = 28.2 PPG

OK, so then I look at a few of his more outrageous individual seasons....

1994-95: 29.3 points per game
854 FTA, 455 FTM
854 X .75 = 640
640 – 455 = 185.5
2315 ('95 total points) + 185.5 = 2500.5
2500.5 / 79 (games) = 31.7 PPG if he shot 75 percent

2000-01: 28.7 points points per game
972 FTA, 499 FTM
972 X .75 = 729
729 – 499 = 230
2125 (points) + 230 = 2355
2355 / 74 = 31.824 PPG if he shot 75 percent

The reason those numbers surprised me is that I thought the difference between his actual points and coulda-been points would be greater. It's not like the difference between his 75 percent total of 26.9 points and his real total of 24.8 is negligible; over the course of a career that started in 1993, that's huge. But I (foolishly) thought it'd be like six points. It's not that big of a difference on paper.

That doesn't make his shooting any less an abomination, not to me. Indeed, part of the effect of Shaq's ineptitude from the line is impossible to quantify: his inability to shoot free throws has cost his teams in ways that transcend simply adding up his career misses and subtracting that from his teams' point totals.

Part of why Shaq’s free throws are such an atrocity is the way it forces his coaches to pull him from games. Even if he is your best rebounder and best inside presence on defense, there are times when he is still a liability to have on the court. I can’t imagine, outside of maybe Wilt Chamberlin, that there has ever been a player who is so good but better served on the bench of a close game.

How many times has Shaq’s team missed a rebound late in a game where his free throws put him on the bench? How many layups have teams gotten against Shaq’s teams when he wasn’t manning the paint? How many times have teammates had to help – when maybe with Shaq in there they wouldn’t have – and left guys wide open? Stuff like that doesn’t show up in the stat sheet, so there is something inherently unquantifiable about Shaq’s grotesque free throw shooting. It's worse than just those one, two and three point differences in points per game.

It's also impossible to say how many points were squandered when an opposing coach, say, Greg Popovich, decided to foul Shaq, like in last year's Playoffs, even with a bunch of time on the shot clock. A team like the Suns that shot 50 percent would have been better off getting up a field goal attempt, or letting someone like Amare or Nash earn a trip to the line, than letting Popovich hack-a-Shaq. Yeah, the Suns will turn it over sometimes, but sometimes they'll can a three-pointer.

What I am saying is this: The Suns probably average more points per possession than Shaq averages per trip to the foul line, especially if it's a one-and-one. So Shaq will leave more points at the line if he gets fouled than the Suns will leave on the court if they get up a field goal attempt. Thus, while I cringe and shake my head and whine and moan when Popovich plays that way, he's playing the numbers.

Before I get too many cans of worms open, I'm going to stop. There are a million variables to consider, like if Shaq would have maybe been fouled less if teams were scared to put him on the line. Or maybe he would have been fouled more because he would have been in the game during cruch time. I acknowledge that this is an inherently incomplete, somewhat dissatisfactory analysis.

But if you ever wondered about how good Shaq's numbers would have been, all things equal, if he could shoot like you or me or your 12-year-old cousin, not you know.

Stuff Watch, VIII

2009-04-08T13:00:00.006-05:00

Strange use of the word stuff today, kind of in a what-could-have been context. Joe Posnanski of The Kansas City Star wrote a column about manager Trey Hillman's decision-making -- or lack thereof -- in yesterday's season-opening loss to the White Sox, a 4-2 defeat that wasted a seven-inning, six-strike out, one-run gem from Gil Meche.

If you don't know exactly what happened, I'll briefly explain.*

* If you want more on what happened, check out Poz's column -- which is good -- or Rany's column -- which is probably even better -- from Rany On The Royals, a site that so brilliantly discusses the Royals I am somewhat fearful linking to it. Thank God Rany doesn't have a Stuff Watch, or that would be the place to get all Royals news.

Basically everything about Hillman's eighth inning decision to sit Meche in favor of Kyle Fanrsworth was iffy:

- Meche was absolutely rolling and had only pitched 91 pitches; he could have (should have) stayed out there.

- Fanrsworth, who gave up the fateful three-run jack in the eighth inning, with the Royals leading 2-1, is right-handed.

- Jim Thome, who hit that jack, kills righties.

- Reliever Ron Mahay is left-handed and was warmed up.

- Closer ace Joakim Soria should be able to pitch more than one inning in the first game of the season, especially not having pitched since Saturday.

It was a baffling managerial decision, and again, if you want more elegant waxing on the topic, check out those other guys' columns.

Anyway, back to the Stuff Watch. From Posnanski,

There were other reasons to make the move to Mahay. Farnsworth is a power pitcher, precisely the kind of pitcher Thome loves facing. Farnsworth gives up a lot of home runs (he gave up 15 homers in 60 1/3 innings in 2008). Farnsworth has great stuff, but he has struggled enough in the tight situations in late innings that last year in New York, there were people at Yankee Stadium wearing “Anyone But Farnsworth” T-shirts.

Hopefully stuff isn't used with that big of a BUT after it too much this season. If it is, it could be a long year.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse, and thanks to America's strong history of protecting innovative ideas, this is the venue for this type Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley uses the word "culture," go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Royals lose to Chicago in first game, but not to worry. It's a marathon.

2009-04-07T20:59:00.008-05:00

Barack Obama had a good one-liner the other day in his primetime press conference regarding the economy (Digression: That press conference took a markedly optimistic tone compared to the duck-and-cover type of rhetoric the Prez was spouting earlier this year. Interesting how things change, even when things haven't really change.)

Someone asked Obama why it took him two full days to comment on AIG’s bonus fiasco. Obama thought about it for a sec, and then said, “Because I like to know what I'm talking about before I speak.” He was apparently conceding that he does not understand the nitty-gritty of the economic crisis, that some of this stuff is over his head, and that he needed a few hours – 48, actually – to figure things out. He needed to meet with his economic advisors, chat, study, analyze, get enlightened. Then, and only then, did he feel comfortable bemoaning a system that he didn’t understand much earlier.

Well, Barack Obama’s naivety on the economy is a lot like my naivety on baseball. But instead of a team of Ivy-educated geniuses, I have my friend Paul, who is to me what economic advisors are to a president. He is a voice of reason, wisdom and experience – a voice that simply knows more about the subject. While Barack Obama knows a lot about the United States, he admits that he doesn’t necessarily know about the US economy. Similarly, while I know quite a bit about sports, I admit that I don’t necessarily know all that much about baseball, at least not in proportion to the dorky vault of information that I have accrued on other sports. (LSU beat Florida 21-14 in 1997 in Baton Rouge, Florida had beaten SEC teams by an average of 25 points over the past two seasons, Ron Franklin called that game, I didn’t look up any of that.)

My lack of information about baseball was born out of my aversion to playing the sport. I didn’t have the patience for it as a youngster, and once sixth grade rolled around and kids started pitching with velocity – but not control – I officially retired from the sport, far too freaked out to stand in the batter’s box again when there was a ball FLYING AT MY HEAD.

Thus, I often turn to Paul when it comes time to talk baseball. He wasn’t all that hot at baseball himself, but he does understand the sport better than me because, quite simply, he has always liked it more. He knows more stats, has watched more games, has seen more things happen, can dissect why those things happen. And he has enlightened me to another reason I haven’t always been hot on baseball, something that I am going to try to do better with this season.

I have therefore adopted the mantra, “It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

This is of course a no-brainer, but it is so, so important – more important than tattoos to an NBA player. My favorite sports growing up were always college football (12 games per season), college basketball (about 30 games per season), and pro football (16 games). I have always liked the NBA, but even its 82-game season tested my videogame-ruined attention span. And besides, the NBA is nothing compared to the outlandish 162-game behemoth slate of the MLB.*

* I only recently appreciated how cool this is for the die-hards. I mean, how indulgent is it to have your favorite team play 162 times in the span of six months? 162 games out of like 186 days? That’s gratuitous, absolutely gratuitous. That’s like a guitar dork going to a Phish concert, where a three-hour-and-15-minute concert will feature three hours of guitar noodling.

Thus, with the marathon theme in mind – which is also why to took me 600 words to get to the point here – we are going to disregard the Royals’ rather horrid 4-2 loss today to the Chicago White Sox. We’ll ignore that the Boys in Blue botched seven incredible innings from Gil Meche, that Billy Butler was 0-for-4, that the Royals stranded 11 runners and were 1-for-10 with RISP. (Look at that savvy use of lingo! I bet before long I won't even point out when I use baseball lingo correctly). We'll also ignore Trey Hillman's decision to pull an on-fire Meche in favor or Kyle Farnsworth, who tossed that fateful three-run homer to Jim Thome in the eighth; either Meche should have still been out there or Joakim Soria should have already been in there. We can ignore all that because, in essence, that game was like a 400-meter dash at the outset of a marathon. And instead of worrying about all that bad stuff, let’s look at all the stuff that was good.

Meche – I touched on it a moment ago, but it’s worth gushing about. Meche was incredible. He always is in season openers. As Bob Dutton wrote in today’s KC Star, Meche went 13.1 innings and gave up just four runs in his first two Opening Day starts with KC, going 1-0. Meche outdid himself today with seven innings, six strikeouts and just one earned run. Oh, and 61 of his 91 pitches were strikes, and right now his ERA sits at 1.29. Good stuff, Gil.

Mark Teahen – The Royals’ experimental second baseman was 1-for-3 with a double and a walk, and that walk was a huge duel that showed some serious patience at the plate. I don’t think Teahen had many chances to make errors, and his glove at second base – where he hasn’t played since high school – is the big concern. But even if a few Es rack up, the Royals will suffer with a weak glove now-and-then if Teahen has a .500 OBP.

David DeJesus – DeJesus left a pair of men on base with two outs, he got one hit and no walks in five plate appearances. Nothing special. But he did something that no Royal has ever done: record two assists in a season-opener. Not bad. And one of them, fittingly, was on Jermaine Dye, who was part of the Damon-Beltran-Dye outfield that got away from KC. Dye had a Howitzer for an arm, so the irony of Dye getting gunned out (easily) was nice. Of course DeJesus is not going to get (2 X 162) 324 assists this season; I know that. But what this tells us is that DeJesus will provide a viable arm in left field.

Now, just as we can’t get too down about losing the first 100 yards of a marathon – or dropping the first game of a 162-game season – we also can’t get too excited about a few good showings from these guys. Meche always rolls on Opening Day, who know if Teahen’s glove will bite the Royals, and DeJesus, even if he is gunning guys from the outfield, will need to get some hits at some point.

But in honor of my buddy Paul, I wanted to avoid getting down on this season. Because in baseball, one game is nothing.

Roy Williams’ second title has a different feel

2009-04-07T11:05:00.001-05:00

(Column also available here.)

It’s not like Roy Williams’ first national title didn’t count. The nets came down, the team got rings, North Carolina’s trophy collection got yet more cluttered.

But there was something, oh, I don’t know, awry about that 2005 title. Tainted is too strong a word, undeserved is way too strong. Because baseball season just started, let’s just say there was an asterisk.

Yeah, Williams won that 2005 Final Four. The record books can vouch for that. But the title he won last night, in an 89-72 beat-down of Michigan State, is different. It’s his, truly his. Again, he didn’t steal the other one. It’s just that the one last night, against the Spartans, leaves the doubters and detractors totally mum. It belongs to him in a way that the other one doesn’t, a way that the other one can’t. Make not mistake – Roy is now a two-time champ. But the way the Williams’ Heels dismantled Michigan State earned him his first unequivocal, case-closed, no-way-to-discredit title.

You probably know the story of Williams’ first championship. He had left Kansas two seasons prior, in 2003, leaving behind a heartbroken fan base in Lawrence and inheriting a legion of studs in Chapel Hill. Williams took over a team that already had sophomores Sean May, Rashad McCants and Raymond Felton, all of whom were big-time recruits the previous season. Those were the days before Rivals.com and Scout.com and the ESPN Top 100 became omniscient, so it’s hard to quantify exactly how blue those chips were. But Bob Gibbons – a recruiting guru before recruiting gurus were dime-a-dozen – had May, Felton and McCants all in the top 10 in the nation.

Now, that group was far from polished when Roy arrived; after all, there was a reason UNC had a coaching vacancy. The Heels went to the NIT in 2003, and North Carolina going to the NIT is like The Beatles playing at your local hole-in-the-wall for a dozen people. There was definitely work to be done, even if the pieces were in place. After an underwhelming first year in Chapel Hill, when the Heels went 19-11, Williams entered year two with an experienced roster that boasted three starters who would be Lottery picks. And he didn’t recruit any of them. Oh, and those three guys were the only Tar Heels who scored in double figures in the 2005 championship game.

Save Marvin Williams, none of the big contributors on that 2005 title team were Roy’s. And Marvin, by the way, didn’t even start. Roy won that 2005 championship with all five starters coming by way of his predecessor, Matt Doherty. Again, the Heels never did anything under Doherty besides underachieve, so Roy didn’t just roll a ball out there and take a nap until the Final Four. But the cupboard was oh-so full when Roy got to UNC. People knew that, and they talked about it.

The championship against Michigan State could hardly be more different. There were no holdovers from a previous coach – it was pure Roy. And it’s not just the accumulation of talent that is so impressive. It’s the pieces, the way Roy compiled gold-plated stars and fit them together masterfully. There was a pair of big, athletic sharp-shooters – Wayne Ellington and Danny Green. There was a trio of stalwarts in the paint – Tyler Hansbrough, Deon Thompson and Al Davis. And there was of course the point guard, the conductor, in Ty Lawson. There were three juniors and two seniors in the starting lineup, and the first man off the bench was a freshman.

I once heard play-by-play man Kevin Harlan, who is hands-down one of the best out there, say that there is more coaching in one quarter of an NBA game than there is in an entire season of a college basketball. Maybe there’s some truth to that. But what college coaches have to do to succeed is piece together rosters, thinking about how things will look a year or two or three down the road. That’s not easy, and Carolina’s 2009 roster is proof that Roy has it down to a science.

What makes this team that much more Roy’s is the way it played all season: graceful, exciting and exhausting. The Heels operated at a breakneck pace from Day One, and there was nary a moment when they weren’t redlining it. UNC averaged a hair under 90 points on the season, they scored 100 points nine times (including at Duke), they were second in the nation in scoring, second in assists, 10th in field goal percentage, all five starters averaged double figures. Basically, UNC was devastating all year long, and to erase any doubt, it went out and beat all of its tournament opponents by at least a dozen. The Spartans bullied and bulldozed their way to the title game playing with a football-without-pads mentality. UNC ran to the title game by daring its opponents to try to keep up; none of them could.

The Spartans proved just another hapless victim in Monday night’s title game, which, like everything else about this team, was vintage Roy. The Heels set a first half championship record with 55 points, which was good for a 21-point lead at the break – also a championship game record. There were three-pointers and dunks and five guys with at least nine points. From the players to the style of play to the “I’m the luckiest coach in the country” post-game remarks, this Heels team was 100 percent Roy, no filler added.

I don’t know if this title means anything more to Williams than the other one. But even if it doesn’t feel any different, it’s not quite the same. It’s just not. These were Roy’s players, playing textbook Roy basketball.

And this, a little more than the other one, was Roy’s title.

Looking (back) at KU's Final Four match-ups, Part IV of IV

2009-04-06T11:17:00.003-05:00

You know in the movie Stand By Me, as the four kids are on their way to find the body, and they have a little run-in with the owner of that junkyard? And then that old man’s dog, Chopper, comes within a hair of chomping down on Gordy? Great scene, right? Well, in the aftermath of that traumatic experience, the guys are talking and walking, and one of them stops and apologizes for “ruining everyone’s fun.”

Gordy, who has a certain sage-like quality for someone who is 12, replies, “Maybe it’s not supposed to be fun. I mean, we’re going to see a dead body…”

That’s how this Kansas-Memphis ended for me. I was holding out hope that KU’s five-point lead at half would grow, turn into a 10-point lead, Memphis would get antsy, and KU could take the title without too much trouble. I was hoping, like the four boys in Stand By Me, that the journey would be fun, that I could kick back and savor it. It didn’t quite turn out that way.

Kansas vs Memphis, Second Half and Overtime

Robert Dozier gets a big dunk in a matter of seconds, KU throws the ball out of bounds on the ensuing possession (before they even get to half-court), and Memphis cans a three. The 33-28 halftime score is now 33-33, and there is no way I am not going to sweat out the second half: it’s going to either be really tight or Memphis is going to play with the lead or both. But hey, maybe it’s not supposed to be fun and easy watching KU compete for a title. Maybe I needed to earn it.

The teams trade buckets for a while -- 35-33 KU, 35-36 Memphis, 37-36 KU, 37-38 Memphis, 41-38 KU, 41-40 and so on. It’s a bunch of NBA players answering the bell; it's pretty incredible. Darnell Jackson gets four straight, then Derrick Rose scores, then Mario Chalmers, then Brandon Rush. It looks like this is how it’ll be right down to the wire.

But then Rose catches fire with about 10 minutes left, and things get increasingly bleak. He hits an and-one lay-up, then a pull-up jumper in the lane, then another and-one lay-up. It’s 47-54 Memphis with 5:10 to play, and KU hasn’t scored in more than three minutes.

Then the Jayhawks haven’t scored in more than four minutes. And then there is the Rose three-pointer.

With about four minutes left, trailing by five, KU plays stellar defense for 32 seconds, eventually knocking the ball out of bounds. Memphis has three seconds to get up a shot, and the best they can do is a horribly off-balance fadeaway three-pointer by Rose. So check that – 35 second of stellar defense. Down by five with its offense grinding to a halt, KU forces Rose into a impossible shot. Vintage Bill Self: even when you’re offense betrays you, you can always count on your D. The problem is that somehow Rose hits the shot. Off the glass.

Jim Nance declares, “There is the shot of the tournament.”

“Absolutely brilliant,” he adds.

Memphis is up 49-57 with less than three minutes to play, and the rationalization process begins.

Well, at least Bill Self got to the Final Four. That’s step one.

Well, there’s nothing you can do when a player like Rose gets going like that. Bad luck.

Well, Roy Williams had trouble winning titles, too, so this is nothing new.

The under-four minute TV timeout rolls around, and coming back from commercial CBS is showing the Rose shot. Nance explains that during the timeout, the officials changed it to a two-pointer. For some reason, Nance and Billy Packer are equivocal about whether or not it’s a three, even though Rose’s left foot is clearly inside the line; it’s not even touching the line, it’s so far in. I’m sure I yelled at them a bit for their apparent blindness, because I wanted to yell at them when I rewatched it the yesterday. Anyway, it’s now 49-56.

Another quote that is interesting in hindsight, along with the “New Kansas heroes aim to make history” line, and the “There is the shot of the tournament” line, is Packer – regarding Memphis’ accumulating foul trouble – “Unless this game goes into overtime, that shouldn’t be a factor.” Little did he know…

51-56, 3:35: Darrell Arthur hits a pair of free throws. Hope.

51-58, 2:35: Rose misses a three (barely), but Memphis grabs the board, kills 25 second, and Shawn Taggart hits some junk hook shot.

After Sherron Collins gets stuffed on the other end, Packer says, “Now you gotta start thinking about fouling some. See if this Memphis team that had trouble all year long can make em in the clutch….They have not had to make free throws in tough situations in this great run they’ve had shooting more than 70 percent [in the tournament].” That’s with 2:25 left.

51-60, 2:12: Dozier hits two free throws, and this is the famous nine-point margin with two minutes to play. Memphis, by the way, is on a 16-4 run.

53-60, 1:54: Arthur hits the longest possible two-pointer he could have taken. Packer calls it the worst shot in basketball because it is such a long two-pointer – a philosophy that I don’t agree with – and Self calls a timeout. There is an interesting shot of Arthur kind of tapping Collins up-side the head in the huddle. Not in a mean or upset way, just like, “Let’s go.” It works.

56-60, 1:48: It’s incredible how quickly KU fans go from woe-is-me – nine-point hole with two to play – to, “Oh my God, we have a chance.” Collins steals the inbounds pass, somehow avoids going out of bounds, gets it to Chalmers, who gets it to Russell Robinson, who gets it back to Collins. Sherron cans KU’s second three of the night, and all of a sudden there is a huge psychological shift. Nine points with two minutes: Impossible. Four points with 1:48: Very doable.

“That was the play they needed,” says Packer.

56-62, 1:39: KU fouls – on purpose? – and Chris Douglas-Roberts coolly hits a pair. A reminder that Memphis is totally in the driver’s seat.

58-62, 1:23: I get my Joey Dorsey retribution. The guy who is stunningly arrogant for a 38 percent free throw shooter, the guy who was trash-talking Cole Aldrich in the first half, the guy who literally grabbed the ball after a Memphis basket and took a few strides up the court with it, the guy who is basically a punk, fouls out of the game on a horrific play. He hip-checks Chalmers like 24 feet from the basket. Good move, dippy. Dorsey fouls out, and Chalmers takes his ice-water veins and 75 percent free throw percentage to the line. He hits both.

58-62, 1:15: Douglas-Roberts makes a point to not give up the ball as KU frantically tries to foul.

“Douglas-Roberts, he wants to go to the free throw line,” says Nance.

“Memphis has hit its last five at the line,” says Nance

“(CDR is) 83 percent from the line in the tournament, and he’s shot 60 free throws,” says Nance.

He misses the front-end. It begins….

60-62, 1:00: Arthur puts in a bucket with 60 seconds to play. Memphis is still the mathematical favorite, but this is now essentially a crap shoot.

On the ensuing possession, KU plays 35 second of solid defense, and this time Memphis doesn’t hit a miracle shot. CDR’s heave is off the mark, Collins grabs the board and races to the other end. Collins’ head is down; there is no doubt he’s thinking bucket.

You could probably hear me yell “FOUL” within a five-block radius when Collins gets swatted on his wild lay-up attempt. I can’t fault Collins; KU has a three-on-two, he’s a good finisher, he went for it. KU had numbers and very little time, so his heavily contested lay-up really isn’t a bad play. Memphis’ guy just makes a better play, and Collins gets blocked. (It wasn’t a foul, by the way.)

60-62, 16.8: I don’t know if CDR wants to be at the line this time. After that Collins lay-up attempt, CDR gets it on the ensuing break and tries to lay it in. The smart play would have been to pull it out and kill clock, but CDR tries to score a field goal. I think if he wants the free throws this time, he dribbles around, kills a few more seconds, and saunters to the line. Instead, he tries to shoot before he could get fouled.

He misses his first – “woefully short,” says Packer – and the free throw thing is on everyone’s mind: KU fans, Memphis fans, and most obviously, Memphis players. CDR missed the second one, too, and KU has just been handed three straight misses by Memphis’ best shooter. Maybe the Jayhawks are supposed to win this one.

But then the worst moment of the entire game happens. Worse than that heartbreaking Rose shot with 0 on the shot clock. Worse that the previous possession when Collins was stuffed going in for the tie. Worse than listening to four-plus hours of Billy Packer over three day. No exaggeration: this may be the worst moment in my sports-viewing life.

After both free throws clank, Dozier swoops in and grabs the offensive rebound. Incredible. I was just beside myself. KU blows the gift of missed free throws because Darrell Arthur falls asleep on a box out. How, dear readers, do you fall asleep on a box out in the national championship game, down by two points, with 16 seconds left, against one of the worst free throw shooting teams in the world? I was inconsolable. That was the ball game.

Memphis kills six seconds, and Rose gets fouled.*

* Then there was a glimmer of something incredible happening. CDR grabs the ball after the whistle and slams it 30 feet into the air. In a regular-season game, I bet it’s a technical foul. The camera cuts to Robinson on the KU bench, making the T sign, his eyes bigger than silver dollars. I mean, a technical could have been called. If a technical was called, and KU had won from it, then that would have seemed a tainted title to some. So in hindsight, of course I’m glad there was no T. But if KU had lost, I would have taken a tainted title over no title.

60-63, 10.8: Rose toes the stripe, and Nance says, “What will Rose do at the line?...He’s made his last 13 going back to Saturday.”

He misses the first, steps back, and there is this look on his face of absolute terror. To Rose’s credit, he cans the second.

I have a little anecdote about the final Chalmers shot. It may get kind of gushy if I allowed myself to really wax on about the shot itself, the play, how Chalmers alluded the block, the way that Collins alluded the foul and, while falling down, somehow managed to…whoops. My bad. Carried away.

The anecdote is this: So I was at my friend Danny’s house, and he and his roomies have two huge TVs. One of them is upstairs, the other downstairs, which is where we were. We didn’t know it until the Chalmers shot, but there is actually a slight delay, probably one full second, between the upstairs and downstairs sets; the one upstairs is a hair ahead of the other one. So at about the moment Chalmers takes his one pre-shot dribble, we hear a scream upstairs. It was one of those stand-still moments, where everything seems longer, where a second feels like a minute. I remember having time to think: Why are they screaming? What happened? Were those good screams or bad screams? Did their set go out? What’s going on!!!!?????

And then downstairs, the shot goes in. All of a sudden, there were screams everywhere.

There are two things about the overtime that are noteworthy. One, Memphis shot a ton of threes, even before they had to. They shot three straight triples down by just four with more than two-and-a-half minutes left. They panicked. Counting Rose’s desperation three with :16 left, they shot six threes in the OT. The Tigers shot 22 on the night, and six of them – more than 25 percent – came in the five-minute overtime, which accounted for 11 percent of the game time.

The other thing was the Chalmers-to-Arthur alley-oop with 3:41 to go that made it 67-63. Joe Posnanski had written that morning in The KC Star that this would be the “Alley-Oop Final,” and really, it hadn’t been. Even though KU and Memphis were deft at the alley-oop, a fact that Posnanski predicted would play a not insignificant role in the game, there weren’t many alley-oops. But the one that Chalmers laid up there for Arthur in OT, which Arthur sent home with fury, that one made me relax a bit. It was a big-time play, a crushing play, and in the end Posnanski was right: there was a game-changing – or at least game-altering – alley-oop.

Well, I hope this has been fun for you guys too. I definitely had a good time at the Final Four this weekend, even if KU wasn’t there.

Looking (back) at KU's Final Four match-ups, Part III of IV

2009-04-06T00:14:00.004-05:00

April 7, 2008, the day of the Kansas-Memphis national title game, was a crazy day for me. After fretting my way through the morning, I delivered a 45-minute-long defense of my thesis*, which to this point is the climax of my academic career; it will likely remain the climax of my academic career. That was over at about 4 p.m., and then it was off to jazz band, which was my only “class” on Monday during my final semester of college.

* For those of you aching to know, my thesis was a 52-page rager titled, “The Relationship Between Theories in Physics and the West’s Philosophy of God.” I looked at how Aristotelian physics shaped Medieval theology; then I looked at how Enlightenment physics shaped Enlightenment theology; then I looked at how modern physics – Einstein and Co. – have complicated the ways that people talked about God a few centuries ago. Enthralling stuff. Copies are available through Vrani Fieldhouse for only $19.99.

After my jazz band rehearsal, which was little more than two hours of thinking about the KU-Memphis game, I raced over to my friend Danny’s house to watch the game. Danny went to a different college in Denver, and I was worried about the traffic getting over there. Whether it was imagined or real, there was seemingly no one else driving. I may have been in a title game-induced haze. I may have skirted rush hour. I may have run over a handful of people on the way there and simply not noticed. But for whatever reason, it was pretty painless sailing. Once I arrived, I parked myself on the couch in front on his 60-inch hi-def screen and proceeded to take it...

Kansas vs Memphis, First Half

The first thing I notice about this broadcast when rewatching it is the starting lineups, and how there are seven 2008 NBA Draft picks who start this game: Derrick Rose, Chris Douglas-Roberts, Joey Dorsey, Mario Chalmers, Brandon Rush, Darnell Jackson and Darrell Arthur. That’s pretty remarkable. This was definitely a primetime match-up.

During a cheesy compilation of Kansas tournament highlights that rolls just prior to the introduction of the starters, the voiceover says something hokey yet ironic: “New Kansas heroes aim to make hoops history.” (Who might those heroes be?)

CBS then puts up KU’s list of tournament opponents to that point, a list that could not have been much easier. Yeah, North Carolina was damn good, but KU’s other tourney opponents were Portland State, UNLV, No. 12 Villanova and No. 10 Davidson. The Hawks had a remarkably cushy path to the title. Anyone that says otherwise is lying to themselves, and anyone who claims that the virtual police escort to the Final Four diminishes KU’s title is jealous.

CBS then flashes Memphis’ road to the Final Four, which is much more difficult (they had to play Texas in Texas in the Elite 8, for example). What’ striking, too, is that Memphis’ previous three games were decided by 18, 19 and 15 points. They have been slaughtering teams, good teams.

Jim Nance and Billy Packer make a big to-do about how evenly match KU and Memphis are, and they're right. Both teams average between 80 and 81 points, and both teams give up between 61 and 62 points. Statistically, it’s a dead heat. One other noteworthy tidbit that comes up early on is this: Rose is averaging 21 points, 6.6 rebounds and 5.6 assists during the Big Dance. Wow.

Nothing much sticks out about how the first half transpires. KU gets down 9-3, but they come back to tie it at nine. A Chalmers three makes it 18-13 KU, and an Arthur dunk makes it 22-15, Memphis’ biggest deficit of the tourney.

But Memphis doesn’t fade. It’s 24-23 Kansas before long, and it becomes obvious that this is going to be a bloodbath.

It’s a pretty unremarkable first half. Not bad or sloppy, just unremarkable. Back and forth, both teams playing really well, no one pulling away. Nance calls it “a thrilling first half,” and it is. It’s high-quality basketball. Not necessarily pretty, but when you put this many future NBA players on the court together, there’s bound to be some stellar play.

The only thing that raises eyebrows in the first half is Roy Williams, sitting up there in the stands with that Jayhawks sticker plastered on his chest. I don’t have any groundbreaking insights about that move. I know that Roy took some heat for it back in North Carolina, and I know that many Kansas fans saw it as an incredible act of hatchet-burying. I thought, at the very least, that it was pretty brazen on Roy’s part. He didn’t have to attend that game, let alone cheer for KU. I wonder if he wore that Jayhawks on his heart for the explicit purpose of saying, “Look, I like you guys. Can you like me again?” I don’t know. But whatever his motive or reason or thinking, I appreciated the move. Again, it was unnecessary, and he took heat for it. He knew that some people, North Carolina folk, would furrow their brows at that. But he still did it, knowing that he would be on TV. (If he didn’t know the cameras would catch him in the stands, he certainly knew the cameras would catch him when he gave an interview to CBS at halftime. And yeah, the Jayhawk was still there.)

The other thing that I took away from rewatching the first half was my detest for Dorsey. I don’t know what it is. The guy just bugs me. Maybe it’s the air of arrogance, coupled with the fact that he was a 38 percent free throw shooter. Or maybe it’s that after a dunk of his in the first half, he seems to goes out of his way to bump into/talk smack to Cole Aldrich as he makes his way up the court. And then in the second half he pulls this move where, after a Memphis bucket, he takes the ball out of the net and makes a few strides up court, ball-in-hand, stifling any would-be KU break. Nance and Packer point out the shady move, and Nance notes that Dorsey had “a very mischievous grin on his face” afterward. (Dorsey will get his, so I’m not too worried about it.)

That’s about it from the first half. There are five ties and three lead changes, a few runs, and KU leads 33-28 at the break. We’ll be back to wrap up this look back in time at KU’s 2008 Final Four. I have a feeling there is some drama on the way...

Michigan State the class of the glass

2009-04-05T14:10:00.004-05:00

(Column also available here.)

A favorite question of mine in grade school, whenever recess would end and math lessons would begin, was, “What am I ever going to do with this?” I always felt clever asking that because the teachers usually didn’t have a good response. And really, it’s kind of a tough one to answer. When the chalkboard reads: 2(X) – 7 = 3(Y), it’s got to be tricky to quickly think of a relevant real-life use for that.

If only my grade-school teachers knew that I would grow up to be a basketball dork. Then they could have told me that this stuff was invaluable – absolute gold – when it comes to understanding why Michigan State is good. I mean, this is a team that ranks 177th in the nation in turnover margin, 259th in three-pointers, 143rd in free throw percentage and 214th in blocks. Yet MSU just knocked off the two best teams in the Big East in back-to-back games and is playing Monday night for the national title.

This. This is what all that math was for.

Look at the numbers, and there are only two significant statistical categories in which Michigan State ranks in the top 10 in the country. Sparty is No. 1 in rebounding margin, and No. 7 in winning percentage. That’s all this team does: rebound and win. And the winning is a direct result of the rebounding.

Well, not just rebounding. Defensive rebounding really isn’t hard to come by. The tenets of defensive position are among the first things a basketball player learns, the little-league hoops equivalent to the Golden Rule. And of course, Michigan State cleans the defensive glass.

But what makes the Spartans so tough is the work they do one the offensive glass. That is why MSU is such a headache to play, and that is why MSU is flirting with a national title.

It didn’t take long in last night’s Final Four match-up against favored Connecticut to get a glimpse of MSU’s prowess on the O boards. The Spartans came out and hit their first shot, but they missed their second. Not to worry, though, because they got the offensive rebound and then proceeded to score. Same thing happened a moment later. They missed their fifth shot, went and got the board, and hit their sixth. At that point, MSU had missed a pair of field goals but had still scored on every possession; they were essentially shooting 100 percent. The Spartans had three offensive rebounds in the first three minutes.

The half ended the same way it started – MSU shooting until it went in. With 22 seconds left and the game tied, the Spartans’ Korie Lucious missed a three-pointer, but teammate Delvon Roe snared the board. After a display of pivoting that would have made even a politician proud, Roe scored the final bucket of the first half, giving Sparty a 38-36 lead at the break. On the evening, MSU rebounded 18 of their 41 misses.

Sure, a lot of MSU’s offensive boards don’t lead to anything but another missed shot. But the point is that the shots are piling up. And unless there is a hex, unless the cosmos is distributing karmic retribution through missed field goals, then the law of averages mandates that an increased amount of shots will eventually lead to makes.

It’s important to remember that the Spartans don’t shoot it that well. On the season they shot a rather meh 45.3 percent, which is 89th in Division I. That’s a worse clip than all of the other Final Four teams. Heck, that’s worse than all of the Elite 8 teams, too – and significantly worse than title-game opponent North Carolina’s 48.3 percent.

But MSU’s relative ineptitude from the floor doesn’t matter because, thanks to all those O-boards, they shoot it a ton. And the edicts of math, the law of averages, will eventually come into play. Of Michigan State’s 1140 missed field goals through Saturday, 520 of them resulted in offensive rebounds. That’s 45.6 percent; the Spartans rebound nearly half their misses. Incredible, and is makes their field goal percentage a lot less important.

In honor of the grade school teachers who I harassed so diligently, I’m going to invoke some math here. If you happen to be a teacher, and some punk who plays basketball every day at recess asks why in God’s name they have to learn math, use this.

OK, a team that shoots an outlandish percentage – like 50 percent, which would be better than any team in Div. I this season – should have 36 field goals on 72 shots. Michigan State, on the other hand, would theoretically need 80 shots to get those 36 field goals. This hypothetical 50-percent team obviously has an advantage because MSU needs 10 percent more attempts to get the same numbers of makes.

But with how the Spartans rebound, they render irrelevant their somewhat pedestrian shooting. It doesn’t matter that their leading scorer – Kalin Lucas, who’s taken about 150 more shots than any of his teammates – shoots a rather woeful 39.7 percent. Because of its offensive rebounding, Michigan State gets more second chances than Britney Spears. Then it becomes a numbers game, a numbers game that MSU will almost always win.

It’s something like: (FG Attempts) X (FG%) = Scoring Output. The Spartans’ FG% variable isn’t too hot, but the FG Attempts variable balances things out. (By the way, it’s not as though Michigan State compensates for a low overall field goal percentage with stellar shooting from downtown, like Duke always does. The Spartans shoot just 35.8 percent from beyond the arc, which ranks 98th in the nation, and like I said earlier, they rank 259th in threes per game.)

There are of course other variables that come into play, like whether or not you get to the free throw line, how often you turn your opponents over, how much time you take off the shot clock each possession, and so on. A lot of other things matter besides field goal percentage, and being stellar in those other categories can – like offensive rebounding – make up for so-so shooting. But Michigan State kind of stinks at some of those things. I mean, 2-27 Sacramento State hits more threes than Michigan State. And 3-25 Fordham blocks more shots. And 7-25 UNC Wilmington has a better turnover margin.

Doesn’t matter though. Getting offensive rebounds is maybe the best way in all of basketball to mask deficiencies, and despite MSU’s many deficiencies, they own the glass. Don’t shoot well? Simple, go get it back and try it again. Don’t create a lot of turnovers? Well, just keep grabbing boards until you score; why steal it on defense when you can rebound it on offense?

Now, it’s not like all of the Spartans’ O boards led to baskets. But even if a rebound doesn’t result in a bucket, it will result in something good, like, say a foul. During a two-and-a-half minute span of the second half against UConn, with MSU clinging to a narrow lead, an offensive rebound led to a foul on Hasheem Thabeet. A moment later, an O-board led to a foul on Jeff Adrien. Minute after that, A.J. price picked up a foul after an MSU offensive rebound. So even if the Spartans aren’t getting points off of their gratuitous offensive rebounding, they’re changing the game in their favor. UConn – or whoever Sparty is playing – will pick up fouls or wear out or become frustrated. At the very least, you can’t score when you don’t have the ball. So an O-board that doesn’t result in a bucket will still prevent the other team from scoring.

That’s not to say North Carolina is going to be some cakewalk. The Spartans don’t average nearly as many points as UNC. They shoot considerably worse from the floor, make fewer three-pointers, have less overall talent, have committed more turnovers and generated fewer. Oh, and UNC beat MSU by 35 earlier this season. Not exactly a formula for success.

But thanks to my old teachers’ persistence in teaching math, even to begrudging students like me, it’s not hard to see how the Spartans have been able to rebound from their shortcomings all season. Who’s to say they can’t do it once more?

Looking (back) at KU's Final Four match-ups, Part II of IV

2009-04-04T13:59:00.003-05:00

The premise for Part II is to test something that The Kansas City Star’s Joe Posnanski wrote the day after the KU-UNC game.* In an article that hardly hid Posnanski’s aversion Roy Williams’ post-game comments, he wrote, “It might be right to say North Carolina threw a scare into the Jayhawks. It would not be right to say the game was close.”

* I am a huge Posnanski dork, so this is not some critique of his writing. For me to critique him -- hell, for like 99 percent of sports writers to critique him -- would be like a JV back-up critiquing Michael Jordan. The guy is big time, and it's a boon that he writes for The Star.

Well, the first half sure wasn’t close. Let’s see about the second....

Kansas vs North Carolina, Second Half

(At halftime, CBS talking head Seth Davis says, prophetically, “Now Kansas has to play with a big lead. Not always so easy.”)

The halftime lead of 44-27 dwindles and dwindles. But not right away. KU scores on four of its first six possessions – a Mario Chalmers lay-up, a Darnell Jackson lay-up, a Brandon Rush lay-up, another Chalmers lay-up. The teams trade baskets, and after a few minutes, KU has actually increased its lead to 52-33.

But just as that 40-12 mark in the first half is burned into KU fans’ heads, so, too, is 54-50, which is what UNC cut it to. So when KU pushed it to 52-33*, I was watching intently for the shift.

* Rush scored KU’s 51st and 52nd points on a dunk, and at that point he was seven of eight with 16 points. I forgot what it was like watching Rush, who was and still is such a baffling player. He was scoring on three-pointers, on drives, on dunks – he was just so good, so versatile. He was lean but not at all scrawny. He was unselfish but not timid. Watching him put up 16 points through 23 minutes, you wonder how the guy never averaged more than 13 or 14 points for a season. Maybe it’s because he was better than that. Maybe he was too good of a basketball player to be that good on offense. Maybe he knew that it’d be stupid for him – on a team with seven NBA players – to bother scoring a bunch of points. It really was nice, rewatching these games, to rewatch Rush, who will go down as one of the truly great Jayhawks to never average 15 points. Chalmers will go down much the same way.

Trying to pinpoint the turning point, when things start to roll toward 54-50, and it takes longer than I thought. Chalmers lays it up to make it 54-36, and it just feels so much like KU was in complete control. They were. But after that lay-in, things change. Rush misses his first three, and Danny Greeen cans one on the other end. Tyler Hansbrough draws an offensive foul on Sasha Kaun – the fourth offensive foul Psycho T has drawn – and Green hits another bucket, a two-pointer. Self calls a timeout with the score 54-42, a timeout that seems to validate the fact that a run has started.

UNC is shooting 60 percent through the first five-and-a-half minutes of the half, and Billy Packer says, “Kansas nowhere near the defensive intensity we saw in the first half.”

After a Wayne Ellington bucket makes it a 10-point game, Packer says, “You can see that this Kansas team right now is starting to worry”

Things really start to change. Collins commits a charge – his sixth turnover – and Ellington gets a bucket to make it 54-46. KU has stopped scoring.

“Self’s team,” Packer says, “is as out of synch as North Carolina was in the first half.”

KU hasn’t scored any baskets in four-and-a-half minutes, and Nance says, “It looks like panic is setting in.”

“We’ve seen some comebacks, Jim,” Packer says, “but I have never seen anything like this.”

“This would be the mother of all comebacks,” Nance says, dramatically.

Still up by eight, I wonder if KU was thinking the same thing. Were the players really getting that tense, or was this just Packer and Nance assuming that they were tight? Obviously the Hawks were playing like junk, but were they fretting? Were they nervous? Their play would indicate they were, but watching it, I am not so sure. I wonder if the players really were feeling the heat. Maybe. Probably. But I honestly don’t know.

While I am pondering this, Hansbrough gets a bucket and is fouled. He pumps his fist in vintage Hansbrough fashion, pushing the Heels’ run to 12-0 and pushing the score to 54-48.

Darrell Arthur commits a travel, and Packer says, “The Kansas players are starting to look really concerned. There’s not that smile on their faces.”

Things momentarily calm down for Kansas. Rush hits a lay-up, and Jackson follows suit. With 10:10 to go, it’s 58-50. That sort of response is why I question whether or not Kansas was that concerned. They were a pretty old group of players. Maybe this is a self-fulfilling prophecy: I don't think they were that nervous because I know that they respond to UNC so coolly. If they flub the game away, my opinion is likely different.

After a Kansas shot clock violation at the 8:41 mark, the Jayhawks have committed nine turnovers in the second half.

Ellington, who had just hit a three to make it 58-53, then has a three rim out. Like, a horrible rim-out. It swirled, hit every part of the rim, and then slips out. Pretty frustrating, especially when you’re frantically trying to erase a lead. And then there is this great shot of Roy Williams on the sideline, smiling after that miss, kind of a ah-shucks smile, like, “Boy, good shot Wayne. You got unlucky as the dickens.” Then he realigns his tie – which already looked fine – and shakes his head just so. It is such an endearing moment. It is so human, so…charming. Unless you are blinded by a grudge, totally unable to forgive the guy, that is the type of Roy moment that helped make him so iconic at KU, the kind of snapshot you can’t help but like. It had nothing to do with basketball, just like so much of why some people liked George W. Bush had nothing to do with his presidential and mental capacity; he was just seen by many as a good, real guy. Well, that little head-shake and smile was vintage Roy. Endearing to the nth degree.

Aldrich hits a pair of free throws and is then subbed out en lieu of Arthur. That was the ridiculousness of KU’s 2008 team – one first-rounder goes out for another. Kaun then hits back-to-back shots – an alley-oop and a tough bank-shot – pounding home just how nice it is to have an NBA roster in the Final Four. His second shot makes it 64-57.

After a Hansbrough make puts it at 64-59, the game was over. It didn’t seem like it live, back in April of 2008. But with the benefit of hindsight, that was that. Collins comes down and hits a three, which makes it 67-59 with 5:22 left. Kansas had withstood the Carolina charge, and responded with nine points off its bench: two from Aldrich, four from Kaun, and a what was ultimately the dagger from Collins. Carolina would only score seven more points; Kansas would score 17.

Rush has a beautiful lay-in. Jackson has back-to-back buckets. It’s 74-61 with less than three to play, and the only interesting thing from there on out is Larry Brown in the stands. After a KU bucket, they show Brown doing the patented “Hurry up and score” Roy Williams arm wave. Nance and Packer point out that Brown seems to be cheering for UNC, Brown realizes he’s on TV and sits down.

A minute later, the Rock Chalk chant kicks up, and the Roy Williams and Kansas Saga is, well, kind of over.

So, was Posnanski right? It might be right to say North Carolina threw a scare into the Jayhawks. It would not be right to say the game was close. I still don't know. It was just such a weird game. KU blows out UNC for a while, UNC blows out KU for a while, KU returns the favor. It's a bit too easy to say that the game was as lopsided as the 18-point final margin. But maybe it’s too easy to say, “It was closer than the final score would indicate.”

The bottom line is that Kanas was simply a horrible match-up for the Heels. The Heels were a high-scoring outfit, but so was Kansas. The Heels had NBA talent, but so did Kanas. The big difference was that one of these teams had the capacity to lock down on defense. When UNC went on its run, it was because of a gimmicky half-court trap that forced a couple turnovers. It was because Rush finally cooled off; he was missing open shots, not contested shots.

So yeah, I guess Poz is right. In the end, KU got a good scare. But in the end, UNC wasn't close.

UConn in 2006: NBA guys not so impressive now

2009-04-04T01:45:00.006-05:00

I was thinking about George Mason's run to the Final Four today, pondering how incredible it was that the Patriots made it all the way to the national semis.

While studying their march through March -- and study, unfortunately, isn't too strong a word -- two things really struck me from that magical 2006 run. First, GMU played Michigan State, North Carolina and Connecticut on their way to the Final Four. For those of you who just woke up or have been drinking (or both), those three teams comprise three of this season's four Final Four participants. Pretty ironic.

Second is this: That Connecticut team, the one that George Mason beat in the Elite 8 in what was roundly considered one of the biggest upsets in NCAA Tourney history, well, they weren't that good.

Now, I don't want to sound like a drama king or something, claiming that the Huskies were a bunch of hacks and that GMU has every reason to win that game. The Huskies had won a title two years prior, and as is usually the case with UConn teams, they were legit. There aren't any good arguments against their No. 1 seed that season. They were 30-3 entering that GMU game, and had an outrageous four players drafted in the first round of that summer's NBA Draft, five in the top 40.

But that last part, about the NBA talent, that's what, in hindsight, is so deceiving. And that was why, at the time, everyone thought that the Patriots-over-Huskies win was a bigger upset than Truman-over-Dewey. Bigger than Hickory-over-South Bend Central. Bigger than Little Engine That Could-over-hill.

In an online poll about the tourney's all-time biggest upsets, taken shortly after Mason won that game, GMU's win over UConn easily ranked No. 1, receiving 44 percent of vote, well ahead of No. 2, Nova over Georgetown, which got 29 percent. The AP recap of the game was headlined, "George Mason stuns UConn." It was a feel-good story even before the UConn game. But after it, after the Patriots had just beaten the team most people thought would/should win it all, it was all of a sudden a fairy-tale.

Look, this rant isn't about how GMU's run wasn't all that impressive. It's about how the Huskies, despite the 30-3 record, were horribly overrated that year. And the part that is so interesting about UConn and its oodles of NBA talent in 2006 is this: those five top-40 picks, save Rudy Gay, have tanked in the league.

Of course, that's a big asterisk. Gay has turned into a budding star in the NBA, averaging 18.7 points and 5.6 boards per game this season. Not bad. Not bad at all. Way better than any current Jayhawks or MU Tigers besides Paul Pierce. So not all of those Huskies were busts. But the other four that were drafted, who were thought to make UConn a team for the ages -- Marcus Williams, Josh Boone, Hilton Armstrong and Denham Brown -- well, they kind of suck. At least suck for top-40 picks, which they all were; Armstrong was No. 12, Williams No. 22, Boone No. 23, and Brown No. 40.

And it was all those NBA guys that made the UConn upset to spectacular. It wasn't just that it was UConn, and it wasn't just that UConn was from the Big East. After all, this was prior to the Big East's expansion, and if I remember correctly, prior to the nauseating infatuation that the media have with the Big East.

The real story about the GMU-UConn game was the NBA guys versus the Colonial Athletic Assocation guys.

Wrote Dan Wetzel, from Yahoo.com, "(UConn) had, by NBA scout estimates, at least six players (Marcus Williams, Rudy Gay, Denham Brown, Rashad Anderson, Hilton Armstrong and Josh Boone) who will play in the league – maybe more."

The Hartford Courant read, "Despite a roster full of future NBA players, including Rudy Gay, Marcus Williams, Hilton Armstrong and Josh Boone, the Huskies could not advance to the national semifinal."

Sportswriter Joseph White wrote, "(The Huskies) have a bevy of players who will be NBA-bound, while Mason's best hope for a player turning pro is probably Jai Lewis, whose deft footwork and 6-foot-7, 275-pound frame has caught the attention of NFL scouts."

That was the story. People just couldn't get over the NBA-factor. But look at what those five guys have done in the NBA, and that UConn team, in hindsight, is suddenly a lot less incredible.

Boone is averaging 4.2 and 2.4 this year. Williams, despite have a $1.2 million salary, was cut from Golden State after averaging one point and one assist through nine games. Armstrong is averaging five points and 1.8 boards for New Orleans, and has started a total of 33 games in his career despite his Lottery status. Brown played one season with Seattle, averaged four points, and hasn't played in the NBA in two seasons.

Look, I remember being captivated by the Patriots' myself, and I am not trying to diminish what they did that year. They beat UNC and UConn, which had won the previous two NCAA titles. Plus, according to ESPN, only 1,853 people had George Mason in the Final Four out of ESPN.com's 1.5 million entrants in its bracket challenge; only 31 percent of the brackets filled out that year didn't have UConn in the Final Four. That's incredible. And it's not like the Patriots were replete with NBA talent themselves, boasting the same number of future NBAers as my little league team. The Patriots were a true Cinderella, a fun one, and their tournament run through a handful of college basketball's true institutions was remarkable. I don't wish to debunk the significance of what they did. Having four tradition-rich team in this year's Final Four simpy highlights how unusual GMU's Final Four appearance was.

I just want to rewrite people's perception of that UConn team. Sure, it's impressive to have NBA players, even if they don't go on to be stars. And it's even more impressive if one of them, like Gay, does go on to be a stud. (For the record, Mario Chalmers is averaging the same number of points as a rookie this season that Gay averaged as a rookie back in 2007.) I'm just saying that people shouldn't remember that UConn team as some invincible juggernaut with all of these NBA stars. In reality, the UConn was a vincible, flawed team with a bunch of NBA role players. And calling them role players may be overstating things.

GMU over UConn is still one of the NCAA Tournament's great upsets. But only because of the names on the front of the jersey. Not because the NBA-factor.

Looking (back) at KU's Final Four match-ups, Part I of IV

2009-04-02T18:16:00.009-05:00

It's Final Four time, Kansas fans -- time to look at KU's Final Four match-up(s). So forget about whether or not Sherron Collins will go pro. Don't worry about Xavier Henry coming or not coming to Lawrence. And definitely don't worry about how Kansas would slip Henry onto a team that has already used up its scholarships. (I'm sure they would find a way, and I'm sure it would somehow comply with NCAA guidelines. See: Mario Chalmers' dad being on the coaching staff.)

All of that stuff is in the future, and right now, it's time to look to the past. Since KU fans can't watch their Jayhawks in this year's Final Four, I'm going to watch the Jayhawks in last year's Final Four. So if you're feeling nostalgic about how this season is over, remember that last season will live forever. And the first incarnation is right here at Vrani Fieldhouse.

Without further ado...

Kansas vs North Carolina, First Half

As the teams are in their respective huddles before tipoff, Billy Packer prophetically* says: "The real key statistic is that Kansas holds opponents to 37 percent. That is something to look at early on."

* I do not like Packer. I am as happy that he is done calling NCAA Tourney games as I am that Herm Edwards is done coaching the Chiefs. But I will say, he had a pretty good KU-UNC game. This surely has something to do with the game that KU played. But nonetheless, I think he had some astute comments in this one. I will point them out, and you can lambaste me for being a homer. I admit, I might decry Packer's performance as blasphemous if I were a UNC fan, but probably not. Honestly.

After KU claims a quick 4-2 leads, and after Packer says, “I’d be surprised if this game is played under 80,” Russell Robinson gets the ball, wide open on the right wing. He cans a three-pointer, and KU is up 7-2 at 18:35. Incredibly, as Nance is quick to point out, this five-point hole is Carolina’s biggest of the entire Tournament.

Wayne Ellington hits a jumper at about the 18:00 mark to make it 7-4 KU. At this point, there have been 11 points in about two minutes. At that rate, there would have been a total of roughly 220 points. While rewatching the game – and I remember thinking it at the time, too – I really loved that nerves weren’t an issue for either team. That is such a luxury in a Final Four game. Sometimes things get kind of nasty in big college games just because the kids are so geeked, or because teams are afraid to let fly with shots, opting instead for a grind-it-out snoozer.

Don’t believe me? LSU and UCLA played to a 59-45 score in 2006, and Georgetown-Ohio State in 2007 was 67-60. Sure, KU and UNC eventually fell off that torrid pace, but nonetheless, KU’s 84 points were the most in a Final Four game since 2005, when UNC put up 87. In this one, both teams hit their first shots, and from the outset there was a certain looseness to it.

Arthur responds to that Ellington J with a bucket, and Hansbrough responds to that Arthur bucket with his own deuce. All of this offense – it was 9-6 with well over 17:00 to play – inspired Packer to interject, “Did I say the game was going to be in the 80s, Jim? I may change that to the 90s.”

Nance: “We might be there by halftime the way they’re going.”

Jinx! The teams exchange misses; Arthur misfires, Ty Lawson airballs, Mario Chalmers can't hit, Sasha Kaun doesn't come close on a lay-up.

Still, Kansas is the team that passes the early-game eye test. As the na-na-na-na-na-NAAAAA-na-na-na CBS music kicks in heading to the first TV timeout, and KU leads 13-6, Nance opines, “The full fury of Kansas unleashed here at the start.”

Things stagnate for a bit after that first TV timeout. Hansbrough gets mugged in the lane with 14:34 to go in the half, sinks two free throws, and makes it 13-8.

And that’s when things turn. It didn’t feel like it at the moment, when I was watching live last April. But watching it and knowing the outcome, as I did recently, I had an eye trained on when KU’s run really started. I remember – all KU fans remember – that the Jayhawks were up 40-12 at one point. But it’s not like the score was 25-5 out of the gate. It was 13-8. Do the math, and you realize that 40-12 isn’t the most unbelievable part. What’s crazier is 27-4.

Sure, there was a sense that KU was a little hotter from the start. UNC looked kind of shaky with the ball, Robinson came within a whisker of a few steals, Arthur was obviously springier and more fluid than Hansbrough. The score, though, was still really close, 13-8. That’s nothing, not for a UNC team that scored like 250 points a game.

But when it was 13-8, that’s when it changes. Collins takes the ball, does his whirling-dervish act into the lane, and squirts in a lay-up.* Now, it’s 15-8. And unbeknownst to everyone, the rout is on.

* And "squirt," I think, it the operative word for the way Collins finishes around the basket. He is always about a foot shorter than the defenders who join him in the lane, yet he always gets his shots off. For a 5-foot-“11” point guard who is unabashed about getting to the rack, Collins gets blocked remarkably little. And it’s because the ball just squirts out of his hand. He can’t take a proper shot. It’s looks like he’s gearing up for a shot, but before he has gone through the requisite shooting/lay-up mechanics, the ball has already squirted goal-ward.

After Collins’ lay-up, five of Kansas’ six baskets have been in the paint. UNC comes down and turns it over – an awkward-looking play when Gerald Green jumps to shoot it, is smothered, and tries to dribble before he came back down. In all honesty, he may have gotten his dribble down – Roy Williams sure thought so – but it was a very telling play. UNC tries to do something routine, something they have done unabated all season, like take a three, but simply can’t.

Collins responds with a turnover of his own – a first half theme for Collins – and UNC’s Deon Thompson hits a shot.*

* Imagine a TV anchorman in Chapel Hill glumly glancing at a clock on the wall in the studio, a la Walter Cronkite when JFK was assassinated. He peels off his glasses, looks square into the camera and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, with 13:55 left in the first half in San Antonio, the Tar Heels hit the last field goal they will hit for more than nine minutes. Again, the Tar Heels aren't going to get a bucket for a long, long time.”

Robinson races down the court, gets fouled on a wild shot that he was never going to make, and sinks both free throws. The ensuing possession is as instructive as that failed three-point attempt-turned-travel by Green: Marcus Ginyard has the ball on the left wing, falls down, maintains his dribble, sloppily gets rid of it, UNC works it around, and Cole Aldrich ends the possession with a block. Even though Ginyard wasn’t forced into a turnover himself, it was just such a pain for the Heels to do anything on offense.

After that Aldrich block, Collins misses a wild reverse lay-up, and Aldrich comes from off-screen to tip it in. It's 19-10, 12:50 to go.

Packer: “Right now, North Carolina, compared to what we’ve seen in the NCAA Tournament, (is) really out of synch…”

Arthur gets a block on the other end, KU gets to the loose ball first (of course).

Packer: “Jim, I talked about the quick legs. It seems like Kansas is getting every single loose ball.”

Funny you say that, Billy, because on the next possession Robinson gets a steal. Collins ends up with it, lays it in, 21-10 with 12:08 left.

Packer: “Isn’t it amazing, Jim, what quick legs will do. Kansas getting all the loose balls…”

Literally as he finishes saying that, as though it were timed, Chalmers comes in and picks Thompson’s pocket. That makes it two straight blocks followed by two straight steals. Chalmers rushes downcourt, banks in a little fadeaway lay-up, and it’s 23-10.

And then Packer says something that so concisely summed up why KU got their huge lead. OK, so after every time Kansas scored, you could see Roy Williams at the top of the screen frantically waving his hand in the direction of KU’s basket. Like, “Hurry up and get down there! Go score!” Roy just kept waving at his team. That’s all it usually takes for Roy's high-octane units. Packer, though, put it thus:

“Roy Williams doesn’t want to call a timeout, he wants his team to push it up the floor. But they’re pushing it up the floor against somebody that’s quicker.”

And if UNC can't fast break, they can't much score. Thus, the blitzkrieg continues. It was just getting started, really. UNC misses a shot, and Brandon Rush – remarkably quiet so far – lays it in on the other end, making it a 10-0 run.

“They’re just flying up and down the court,” Nance says.

Another UNC miss, another quick KU dash down the court, resulting in a Rush three from the deep right corner. With the score at 28-10, Nance exclaims, “Can you believe it?! What a performance!”

What a performance, indeed. Now, it’s not a story for UNC to give up points; they always give up points. But when Rush canned that triple to make it 28-10, UNC had four field goal and seven turnovers. Nuts.

After another UNC miss, Chalmers comes off a screen at the top of the key and drains a three-pointer. And just as when Packer was talking about KU getting all the loose balls and the Jayhawks proceeded to get a steal that precise moment, this play-by-play was once again a virtual script of what was happening.

“Self worked so hard to get to a Final Four, and it was a trouble” -- Chalmers three goes in the same breath as "trouble" -- “But this has been no trouble. This is one of the most devastating performances I’ve seen by two teams that were evenly match-up.”

Now it’s 31-10, and you gotta wonder what Roy was thinking. I mean, seriously, what is there to think? And forget that it’s KU. Yeah, that adds drama, everyone knows Roy used to be a Jayhawk, everyone knows that this was the first game between the two teams since the divorce. But right then, in the midst of a 16-0 run, it doesn’t really matter that it’s KU. It matters that UNC is flirting with the biggest deficit in Final Four history. It matters that this defensive stalwart you’re playing – a team that held its opponents to 37 percent from the floor on the season – also happens to be shooting unconsciously. At that point, KU was three-for-three from distance, and UNC couldn’t even get off a shot.

It looked a lot like the games that my middle school team used to play against Brandon Rush’s middle school team in KC-area tourneys and leagues. We were the Hoosiers, and they were the Bullets. If you have any initial thoughts about those names, any instinctive impressions, like maybe that the Hoosiers were a scraggly team of short white dudes, and the Bullets were a hulking troop of future college players, then yeah, go with your gut. For example, in an eighth-grade game, Rush once goaltended a shot of mine. A lay-up. (Embarrassing as that may have been, I did score on Rush. Take that. )

The onslaught continues. Ellington comes down an misses a three. KU comes down and misses a shot, but Aldrich wrestles ball from Hansbrough. Aldrich out-toughs the toughest player in the country, inspiring Packer to say, "Jim, is there any phase of this game where Kansas – forget being better – hasn’t been dominant?"

Aldrich makes a free throw. Then he misses a free throw. But Green commits a lane violation on the second free throw – “This is a nightmare for Roy Williams” – and Aldrich sinks the do-over. It is now an 18-0 run. It is now eight consecutive empty trips for UNC.

On the other end, Hansbrough sinks two free throws, making it 33-12 with 8:42 to go. Hansbrough has eight of their 12 points. What’s more incredible: That Hansbrough is scoring 67 percent of the team’s points, or that UNC has 12 points more than halfway through the half?

Collins commits a charge, but UNC can’t cash in. Rush snares an offensive rebound and lays it in with 7:51 to go, giving KU a 35-12 leads. Roy, at this point, simply wants to get to the under 8:00 timeout, opting for the old arm-wave instead of calling a TO.

After yet another empty UNC possession, Rush starts a fast-break with an outlet pass. KU flies up the court, and Rush, trailing, catches the ball deep on the left wing, and right in front of Roy and the Heels’ bench…I’ll let Nance tell you.

“Rush, way-outside three…Of course! Of course!”

38-12. Cold-blooded. Roy finally calls that TO, Rush has a rare display of emotion* and Packer asserts, “This game, is ov-ah.”

* This moment provided an epic image, which was on the front of The KC Star sports page the next day. Rich Sugg, who is proof that not all sports photographers are created equal, snapped a shot of Rush yelling and flexing, with Roy standing limply, arms crossed, in the background.

After it got to 38-12, the half ended on a 15-6 UNC run. UNC was in the process of making KU sweat this one out, but there will be more about that tomorrow, in Part II.

Other noteworthy tidbits this first half:

- When it was all said and done, UNC went more than nine minutes -- and about 1,500 words -- without a field goal.

- Rush had 12 points at the same time UNC had 12 points.

- Collins had an incredible five first-half turnovers.

- Hansbrough drew three charges in the first half.

- KU shot 55 percent

- Aldrich had six points, six rebounds and three blocks

- UNC had 10 turnovers and 2 assists

- KU had seven steals

So that's the first half of the first game KU played in the Final Four. Remember, this is the place for Kansas Jayhawk Final Four analysis. So if you're craving anything having to do with KU's Final Four run, don't forget where to come.

Adendum to Collins-should-leave post

2009-04-02T14:00:00.003-05:00

Of course, the bottom line on Sherron Collins going pro is what he wants to do. I didn't explicitly say that when I suggested he'd be better off entering the NBA Draft this year.

When I asserted that he should go, I was looking at it purely in terms of what will be best for him monetarily and in terms of where he'd get drafted. Heck, maybe he just loves college. And maybe traveling around the country for a marathon 82-game NBA season doesn't sound like a ton of fun. If that's true, then he of course should come back. However, if his sole considerations are: What's best for me, my draft stock, and my pocketbook? then now is the time to enter the Draft.

I would hope that was all implied in my column, but it certainly wasn't clearly enunciated. So.

It pains me to say, but Collins shouldn’t stay

2009-04-01T20:52:00.003-05:00

(This column is also available here.)

In the name of full disclosure, I am a lifelong Kansas Jayhawks fan. Having grown up 30 minutes from Lawrence, I shot about 10,000 shots in my driveway as a starting point guard for Kansas, doing the play-by-play all the while. Tears used to streak my face as a youngster whenever the Jayhawks were ousted from the NCAA Tournament, and the emotions were similarly strong last season when, finally, the Jayhawks didn’t get ousted. (They had won the tourney in my lifetime once before, back in 1988, but I was watching Sesame Street reruns when they snipped the nets.)

Indeed, my childhood was largely defined by Kansas sports. And Kansas sports being largely defined by what happens on the hardwood, I have a longstanding relationship with Kansas basketball. Logic was often drowned out by love – there was nary a game I thought the Jayhawks shouldn’t win, a player I didn’t think was the best. And of course, there was never, ever a reason for a Kansas Jayhawk to leave college early for the pros.

Well, right now a pair of Jayhawks, Cole Aldrich and Sherron Collins, have an NBA decision to make. And my 12-year-old self would beat the crap out of my current self for honestly holding this conviction: I think that one of them, Collins, should go ahead and go.

First, I think that Aldrich should stay, and probably will. He’d be a first-rounder this year, but he could be a really high draft pick – like, Phish-fan high – if he hung around another season and polished up his game a little bit. And with former NBA All-Star and Kansas legend Danny Manning coaching KU’s big men, Aldrich is sure to get better. He’s already a first round lock, so he could go. But he wouldn’t slip past No. 5 if he waited until 2010.

Having said that, though, Collins should probably get out of town. And don’t think for a second that it doesn’t pain me to say that.

Really, Collins’ stock isn’t going to get any higher. What could Collins, a junior, do next year that he didn’t do this year? Sure, he could win a national title. But if winning a title is really worth that much, why did former Jayhawk guard and title-game hero Mario Chalmers fall to the second round last season? Courtney Lee and George Hill and Jerryd Bayless were all guards drafted ahead of Chalmers, and none of them won championships.

Collins doesn’t need another year. His draft stock got all the yeast it needed this season. Dude averaged 18.9 points per game, third best in the Big 12 behind Iowa State’s Craig Brackens and some guy from Oklahoma. Plus, with more talent and experience crowding KU’s roster next year, Collins would likely score less if he comes back.

And in the ever important what have you done for me lately category, Collins had an incredible NCAA Tournament. As KU’s main source of offense, Collins was called upon to create shots all by his lonesome, and to chuck them up even if they weren’t there. Yet he still hit 55 percent from the floor. Six-foot-10 centers would be stoked to shoot 55 percent, let alone a 5-11 point guard. On the season, he ranked ninth in the Big 12 in field goal percentage among players who averaged at least five makes per game, so efficiency wasn’t a problem.

Fresh in NBA scouts’ minds will be KU’s three tourney games, in which Collins averaged 25.7 points, had 13 assists to eight turnovers, and led his squad to the brink of the Elite 8. And I’m not sure that a Sweet 16 run with this team isn’t just as impressive as a Final Four run would be with next year’s squad, which is sure to be much better.

Another consideration – injuries. Myriad injuries have hampered the sometimes-porky Collins during his tenure at KU. A fractured foot, a bruised up knee, patellar tendonitis. This was the first season that Collins wasn’t hobbled, and if he spends next year on the trainer’s table instead of on the court, that’s going to make him something of a toxic asset.

One more reason Collins should declare for the draft– uggh, I can’t believe I keep writing that! – is that this is a weak draft class, or at least relatively weak. It’s hard to tell what to make of the mock drafts that litter the Internet, especially right now when we don’t know exactly who is coming out. It’s sort of like trying to tell who’s going to be the Republican presidential nominee in 2024. But look at some of the point guards who are candidates. Eric Maynor, Jrue Holiday, Ty Lawson. Those just don’t seem like big-time NBA players.

Now, there are some point guards coming out that will deservedly get drafted ahead of Collins – Jonny Flynn and Jeff Teague come to mind. Those are a pair of bona-fide freaks who can fill up the stat sheet and hop through the roof.

But I’m not convinced that Maynor and Holiday and Lawson are better prospects than Collins, and they are the only guys this year who could keep Collins out of the first round and prevent him from inking that guaranteed contract. Maynor played in the Colonial Athletic Association; Holiday averaged eight points. And playing point guard for Roy Williams, like Lawson did, is like playing quarterback at Texas Tech: yeah, the numbers are gaudy, but it’s a run-and-gun system that pumps helium into statistics. So while Lawson is a primetime college point guard for Roy, I’m not sure that he is going to be a big-time pro.

One more thing about the draft: the best players in the 2010 draft may still be playing high school ball. Think about it. The top point guard taken in the 2007 draft was Mike Conley, Jr., and the top point guard in 2008 was Derrick Rose, both of whom had just finished up their freshmen seasons in college. So it may be even more of a gamble to wait another year when today’s prep stars are prepping for the NBA.

Look, I don’t want Collins to leave. If he and Aldrich come back, KU will probably be No. 1 in the country to start next season, and for good reason. But my allegiances aside, Collins should leave. There are too many factors that could diminish his draft stock if he hangs around Lawrence for another season – injuries, less dazzling numbers, better guards in the draft.

Collins would be hard to replace. But for his own good he should break the hearts of grade-school-aged Kansas fans across the state and bid farewell to the Jayhawks. Those kids will when understand when they’re older.

MU avoids another round of tough luck

2009-04-01T11:35:00.002-05:00

(Column also available here.)

Look in the annals of any college’s sports program, and there will be bad luck hidden somewhere.

Kentucky has that Christian Leitner fadeaway. Stanford has The Play. Auburn has that undefeated 2004 football season that somehow didn’t earn them a national title. No single college can claim a monopoly on bad luck. Bad luck is pervasive in sports, and if you’re around long enough, bad things are going to happen.

But while no one is immune to bad luck, the Missouri Tigers have been particularly susceptible. And that’s why when basketball coach Mike Anderson’s name was getting kicked around the last few days as a coaching candidate at Memphis and Georgia and probably a few other locales, Missouri fans had to be preparing for whatever grieving ritual they have devised over the years. They were heading to church, filling up the whiskey glass, making an appointment with the psychologist. However it is that Tiger fans have learned to cope, losing Anderson was going to set off another round of bad-luck wallowing.

But in a divorce from Missouri’s longstanding marriage to misfortune, disaster was averted. Missouri hung on to Anderson, bumping his salary from $850,000 to $1.55 million with the possibility for bonuses that could earn him more than $2.2 mill. They also extended his deal from 2011 to 2016.

This is good news for Missouri, and a welcome change from the past. With how charmed this season was, it seemed that there had to be an asterisk coming. Anderson led the Tigers to a school-record 31 wins and their first-ever Big 12 Tournament title, had them within a breath of the Final Four and oversaw an epic win over Kansas. There was renewed optimism throughout the Show-Me State because – finally – Missouri fans had been shown reason to hope.

But Missouri coasting along to so peacefully is like the coyote getting ready to snare the road-runner: something always screws it up. It simply couldn’t last. Something had to go wrong. Because like I said, even though the bad luck bug doesn’t spare anyone, it seems especially fond of Missouri.

This is the school that, in a 1990 football game, stopped Colorado on four straight plays inside the five-yard line, only to have the officials give the Buffaloes a fifth crack at it. Literally, a fifth down. CU of course scored the game-winning TD on the infamous fifth play, and of course by that time the clock read 0:00.

The list goes on; how about Tyus Edny. With Missouri beating UCLA by one in the 1995 NCAA Tournament – a tournament that the Bruins ultimately won – Edny drove the length of the court in a matter of seconds and put up one of the most famous shots in college basketball history, ending Missouri’s season and adding to the calamity.

There’s “The Flea Kicker,” when Missouri had all but beaten the mighty Nebraska Cornhuskers. But – and there’s always a but – on the last play of regulation and Nebraska needing a touchdown, this ludicrous sequence ensued: Pass. Drop. Kick. Ball suspended in midair. Still suspended. Still. Diving catch. Touchdown. The play, which makes Franco Harris “Immaculate Reception” look routine, sent the game into an overtime. I don’t need to tell you who won.

What else…oh, Missouri ascended to No. 1 in the nation on the last week of the 2007 football season, locking up a spot in the national title game against Ohio State. But it’s not that simple. It never is with Missouri. Despite claiming a spot in the title game with a one-loss season, Missouri had to play in the Big 12 championship against Oklahoma, which they had already played. Ohio State did not have a conference title game, and Mizzou lost to the Sooners, blowing their chance at a national title. (Salt in the wound: Kansas, which Missouri beat that season, went to the Orange Bowl; Missouri went to the Cotton Bowl.)

That’s a lot of crummy luck. And all of that is why Missouri seemed destined to lose Mike Anderson when Memphis and Georgia and whoever else became interested in Anderson. How could they not lost him? If there is a way for something sinister, twisted, unfair and soul-crushing to happen to MU, it happens. Fifth down? A game-tying touchdown pass/kick? Losing your ticket to the BCS title game on the way to the airport?

But maybe Missouri’s bad luck is coming to an end, or at least a taking an intermission. Maybe they have exhausted all the misfortune or bad karma or whatever it was that lured bad luck its way for so long. Because Mike Anderson isn’t going anywhere. At least not anytime soon. Nope, he’s staying put, and there is reason to believe that Missouri will stay put in the upper-echelon of the Big 12.

Missouri avoided adding another chapter to its bad luck saga. And maybe, just maybe, there is about to be a plot twist that calls for some long-awaited good luck

Stuff Watch, VII

2009-04-01T11:12:00.007-05:00

Really, some good stuff in today's KC Star from manager Trey Hillman. Even if the pitchers aren't ready come opening day, Hillman is throwing heat. He's ready to PLAY BALL.

In Bob Dutton's article, which discusses Sidney Ponson's chances to be the fourth starter when the season kicks off next week, Hillman again shows that he is in mid-season form.

From Hillman:

“(Ponson)'s a guy who really feeds on tempo and rhythm. For whatever reason, he slowed down in-between pitches. I think that adversely affected what he was doing with his location.

"We made that point after the inning, and he went back out and finished up strong. I still see stuff. I still see pitchability. We’ll get him lined up for his next one and see what it looks like....

“He’s pitched very well (overall), but we still think there are some things that need to be finished off. The biggest thing that I need to see more consistently is, with the stuff and ability that he has, is to utilize both sides of the plate with more consistency.

“Let his stuff play out. With the action on his secondary pitches, and the difference between his two-seamer and his four-seamer, when he utilizes the inside part of the plate, it opens the plate up for a higher rate of success.”

(I think "Let his stuff play out" will go down as the No. 1 preseason quote from Hillman.)

With the college hoops season still in full swing, I'm having trouble getting that into baseball just yet. Hopefully this stuff will satiate my wonderful readers until I really step into the batter's box.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse, and thanks to America's strong history of protecting innovative ideas, this is the venue for this type Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley uses the word "culture," go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

White knuckle time for MU

2009-03-31T11:16:00.003-05:00

(Column also available here.)

Welcome, Missouri, to college basketball purgatory, a place rife with wins, optimism and other teams trying to pluck up your coach.

As the rumor mill continues to churn at full speed about Memphis’ John Calipari going next door to Kentucky – where Billy Gillespie was recently fired – there is an abundance of speculation about who Memphis would try to get to replace Calipari. And Missouri’s Mike Anderson heads up the list of candidates.

Makes sense. Anderson just set the single-season win record at Missouri, acing a quasi-job interview in the process when his Tigers beat Calipari and Memphis into submission in the Sweet 16 with a 102-91 exhibition in The Fastest 40 Minutes philosophy. Anderson is a commodity right now, a hot one. Just look at the headlines.

“Rumors swirl, but MU still working on contract for Anderson,” reports The Kansas City Star.

“Mizzou Coach Mike Anderson to Replace John Calipari at Memphis?” asks The Riverfront Times.

“Riding the Carousel: Missouri’s Anderson Is a Coach in Demand,” says The New York Times.

Before I go on, I want to clarify that nothing has been finalized yet in this Calipari to Kentucky deal, at least not publicly. This is an important acknowledgement, because listening to the talking heads wax on about Calipari leaving yesterday afternoon, it’d be easy to think that JC-to-UK was set in stone.

Now, Cal may be setting up shot in Lexington quicker than GM’s CEO can clear out his desk. But right now, on Tuesday morning, it’s not a done deal, so I don’t know how it could have been a done deal 16 hours ago. Yet yesterday folks were using past tense verbs to describe Cal’s tenure at Memphis, and talking in definitive terms about how this affects Memphis’ recruiting class. You could easily be fooled into thinking that the ink it dry. It’s not.

OK, back to Missouri. With the Tigers’ stunning rise from preseason No. 7 in the Big 12 to an Elite 8 team that gave UConn a legit scare, Anderson made himself more valuable than a healthy 401(k). He turned downtrodden Missouri into a top-10 team in three years, and he plays a fun, roller-coaster brand of basketball to boot. This is a guy who took UAB to the Sweet 16, so he’s already shown that he can succeed in Conference USA. That he went to the Big 12 and turned a mess of a program into a Final Four contender is all the proof that ADs around the country need that he’s a big-time coach.

One problem for Missouri is that they aren’t really a big-time school. Sure, Tiger fans could argue that there’s tradition, but not that much; the Tigers have zero Final Fours and one 30-win season – this season. And Tiger fans could say that their facilities are top-notch, but I doubt Memphis’ weight room is a pile of stones with a cold-only spigot tucked away in a storage closet.

When Oklahoma State courted Bill Self last season, there was a presumption that KU’s tradition – coupled with a little bit of cash – would be enough to keep Self around. After all, Allen Fieldhouse is as enticing to recruits as the Duff Brewery is to Homer Simpson. Even if Self did graduate from OSU, and even if T. Boone Pickens was willing to throw the (wind) farm at Self. Well, Self stayed, and with another Sweet 16 this year and some blue chips on their way next year – not to mention a healthy raise and renovations to basketball facilities – it looks like the power of tradition won out in the end, helping to make Self’s decision an afterthought.

Missouri doesn’t have that tradition. And it will be interesting to see what happens if Calipari heads to Lexington. In Missouri’s favor, athletic director Mike Alden stared down a similar situation recently and didn’t blink. Football coach Gary Pinkel was rumored to head up the short-list at Washington when Tyron Willingham was forced to resign last fall. Pinkel started his coaching career at Washington, and people in Columbia were getting a little antsy at the prospect of losing the man who orchestrated back-to-back Big 12 North titles. How’d Alden react? He locked up Pinkel with an eight-year extension that bumped his base salary from $1.85 million annually to $2.3 million.

Again, the coaching carousel has yet to start moving. But it looks like Calipari already has one foot in Kentucky. And if that the case, common sense says that there is nary a coach around who would be more attractive than Mike Anderson.

It’s fun winning games and going to Elite 8s. But there is a price: either Missouri antes up some cash to keep Anderson around, or they might see him coaching a different set of Tigers next year.

Defense the difference for UNC

2009-03-30T11:36:00.002-05:00

(Column also available here.)

There are all sorts of reasons why North Carolina lost yesterday to Oklahoma. The Tar Heels were held 18 points below their season average. Their leading scorer on the season only had eight points. They were sleepwalking through the first half and scored just 32. Their top marksman, Wayne Ellington, was one of five from three-point range. They only got eight points from their bench.

It’s hard to pinpoint any one reason why the Tar Heels, despite their oodles of talent, again fell short of a title.

Oh, wait. North Carolina won. My bad.

UNC’s 72-60 win over the Oklahoma Griffins was a blueprint for a Roy Williams-coached team tournament loss. The Heels didn’t score as much as they usually do. They didn’t hit as many threes as they usually do. They had a 1-to-1 assist to turnover ratio, when on the season it’s been 1.4-to-1. Those are all the ingredients for a run-and-gun Williams squad to fall in the tourney. But nonetheless, UNC is marching on to their second straight Final Four, their third in six years under Coach Roy.

Carolina’s 72 points against OU was their second lowest total of the season. Only in its 70-point outing in the ACC tournament against Florida State – a loss – did UNC have fewer points. For a team that averages 90 per game, tallying just 72 could have spelled doom. That Carolina still won – and won handily – is an ominous sign to the other three Final Four squads. The way to beat the Tar Heels is to prevent them from scoring a ton of points. Well, in theory that’s how to beat the Tar Heels. But Oklahoma did that, and it still wasn’t nearly enough.

At times this season, defense for North Carolina was simply a way to kill time while waiting to get the ball back. On the year, the Heels ranked 276th in the nation in scoring defense, giving up 72.3 points per game. They were 227th in three-point percentage defense at 35 percent. They gave up 80 points on eight different occasions.

Now, you can live with numbers like that if you’re North Carolina. With Ty Lawson leading the lay-up line up and down the court, there is generally no way for the opposition to keep up. Carolina’s offensive numbers were stellar as always – second in points, second in assists, 15th in field goal percentage.

But the death knell for Carolina is usually not scoring a bunch of points. And against OU, they didn’t score a bunch of points. Consider this: in Roy’s 13 tournament wins at North Carolina since 2004, the Heels have averaged 84.5 points. In his four losses, they have averaged 71.3.

And sometimes scoring isn’t even enough. In the Heel’s three regular season losses this year, they averaged 84 points. There were only three teams in the nation this season that averaged 84 points, so that’s not some measly total. Yet UNC lost on three different occasions in the ACC, and they scored 78, 89 and 85 points in those three defeats. That Roy’s Boys scored so many points and still lost is evidence that this is a team that wins with offense.

UNC’s offense wasn’t quite so lethal against OU, but it didn’t matter. Yeah, Blake Griffin got his 23 points, and it only took 12 shots to get those points. No one else did anything though. The box score will tell you that Willie Warren had 18 points, but what it won’t tell you is that Warren scored 14 of those in the final six minutes. That’s when he got his first second half field goal, and at the time, the Sooners were getting blasted by 21. No other Sooner was in double figures.

Plus, OU has been a respectable three-point shooting team on the year. Just ask Syracuse, which saw OU stroke nine threes against them. But despite the Sooners’ 35 percent mark on the year, they made a measly two of 19 against UNC – barely 10 percent. Oh, and the Sooners were good for more than 79 points per game this season, 11th in the country.

Now, you can debate merits of Oklahoma as a legit title contender. This is, after all, a team that lost four of its last six games entering the tournament, a team that is utterly reliant on one player. But still, UNC handled them, and in a way that UNC teams don’t generally handle their opposition. The finesse team that burnt out scoreboard light bulbs all season only netted 72 points. And they still won easily.

All of the offensive numbers from yesterday’s game would suggest that UNC once again got bogged down in the tournament, unable to impose their style on a team bent on stopping the fast break. But UNC showed us something against OU. They showed that even if they don’t get their 90 points, they can still control the game.

This year, it might not be enough to simply slow down UNC. And if that’s the case, the Heels will be cutting down the nets, even if they aren’t scorching them

Stuff Watch, VI

2009-03-29T11:17:00.004-05:00

Man, I miss one day on the Stuff Watch, and I get behind.

In Saturday's Kansas City Star, Royals manager Trey Hillman said, of reliever Robinson Tejeda, "He's still going to miss bats. He's got velocity and stuff. He got a strikeout on a slider, a secondary pitch. It's just a matter of how often he can do that."

And then today, Hillman was quoted saying, about Ramon Colon's rough outing, “His stuff was still there. He just didn’t locate it as well. We still saw good stuff. For the most part, he threw strikes. They were just more-hittable strikes.”

OK, the bad news: Colon gave up three runs in one inning against the Rangers on Saturday, and on Friday Tejeda walked two and gave up an RBI single in one inning, bringing his walk total to 16 in just 14.2 innings.

The good news: Hillman is already in mid-season form when it comes to talking about his pitchers.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse, and thanks to America's strong history of protecting innovative ideas, this is the venue for this type Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley uses the word "culture," go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

This one sure to be ugly...and pretty

2009-03-26T11:02:00.001-05:00

(This article also available here.)

If things go as expected, it’s not hard to predict the adjectives that will be used to describe Thursday’s game between Memphis and Missouri.

Fast, athletic, entertaining, frenetic.

On the flip side, there are some other words that likely won’t get uttered.

Pretty, graceful, aesthetic, traditional.

Actually, strike that first one, pretty. After all, pretty is a pretty subjective term, isn’t it? And some basketball fans may think that the ragged, herky-jerky game sure to transpire Thursday night between the (Memphis) Tigers and (Missouri) Tigers will be the epitome of pretty. With each squad’s best offensive weapon being in-your-shorts defense, this game will at times look like 10 guys running wind-sprints. But some people like that sort of thing.

As Missouri coach Mike Anderson said last week, “People think we’re just hully-gully, but I think it's a thing of beauty.”

The purists may want to turn away. Fans who savor milking the shot clock until a wide-open shot appears, fans who believe the hallmark of quality basketball is freshly-starched offensive execution – those fans will be calling their local cable operators to complain about this nationally televised basketball debauchery. My kids saw that! How am I supposed to explain what that was?! I was waiting until they were older!

This Memphis-Missouri Sweet 16 game/track meet is one of the most intriguing matchups of the third round, if not the entire tournament. These are two deep, athletic teams that seem content winning ugly (or is it pretty?). And when they square off against each other, it may well turn into a case study in how things that some basketball teams avoid like the plague are the exact things that some teams thrive on. You know, like gambling on steals 80 feet from the basket, giving up an uncontested lay-up after selling out on a halfcourt trap.

The Tigers – both of the them – play too good on defense for this game to be pretty. Well, pretty in the conventional sense. Some people will indeed find this game pretty, but then again, you could probably find a farmer who sees beauty in a pile of manure, or a surgeon who would see skill and precision where someone else just sees a bunch of blood pouring out of an incision.

Memphis, with its troop of long-limbed athletes – Gumby has started the last 20 games – is No. 1 in the nation in field goal percentage defense, holding opponents under 37 percent from the floor. The Tigers were also in the top 10 in three-point percentage defense, not allowing teams to shoot even 30 percent from downtown. They are No. 7 in blocks with six per outing, No. 14 in steals with just under nine.

All of that contributed to Memphis allowing a measly 57.6 points per game this season. And with a serviceable offense, that translates to the second best average scoring margin in the nation, plus-17.1.

The Missouri Tigers like to muddy up games, too – get after you with suffocating, boom-or-bust pressure. Missouri ranks No. 2 in steals per game with 10.3 and forces 18.4 turnovers, or on roughly 25 percent of its opponents’ possessions. Mizzou turns those giveaways into an average of 21 points, which helps fuel their 81.1 point-per-game offense, often a direct result of its defense. Missouri is fifth in the nation with an average scoring margin of 14.5, and ranks 10th in adjusted defensive efficiency with an 80; Memphis is No.1 at 81.1.

Who knows how this one will play out. This is Missouri’s first foray into a Sweet 16 in years. They have certainly never been asked to handle a setting with this much at stake, nor a team that applies this much pressure. But speaking of pressure, Memphis will be throwing a freshman point guard out there against a merciless pack of ball-hawking Energizer bunnies. Yes, youngster Tyreke Evans has been sensational this season, but there will be no possessions off as he tries to navigate MU’s press.

Whatever happens, this game will be all sorts of ugly. And pretty. It’ll be ugly to those who like their basketball measured and patient and orderly. And it’ll pretty to those who think that getting the ball past halfcourt should be a laborious process, and scoring in the halfcourt even harder.

If you’re in the first group, be sure to have a blindfold ready. And if you’re in the second group, be sure you’ve hit record.

Will Griffin Melo out?

2009-03-25T15:56:00.002-05:00

Sometimes the NCAA Tournament is more than just basketball games. Sometimes the drama transcends the scoreboard.

It could be social significance, history. That happened when Adolph Rupp’s Kentucky team took on Texas Western in the 1966 national title game. Rupp, of course, didn’t recruit black players, and Texas Western, of course, started five black players. And Texas Western, of course, won it all.

It could be a great back-story, some past relationships. That happened last season when Kansas coach Bill Self went to his first Final Four. There, he squared off against Roy Williams, who spurned Kansas for North Carolina in a move that inspired t-shirts with slogans like “Benedict Williams.” (And when Williams went to his first Final Four, back in 1991, he had to play his mentor, friend and former employer in Dean Smith and North Carolina.)

Well, yet another subplot is about to unfold this weekend. The stars have aligned in more ways than one:

Syracuse, which rode college basketball’s best player in 2003, Carmelo Anthony, all the way to a national title, is gearing up to play Oklahoma, which is riding college basketball’s best player in 2009, Blake Griffin, all the way to – well, we don’t know yet.

What we do know is that not since Melo in 2003 has a team looked more likely to hop on a guy’s back all the way to the Final Four. Sure, Stephen Curry played out of his mind last season in the tourney. And Davidson’s run was fun, maybe the best story of the entire 2008 Tournament. But really, they were not going to win it all. Never. Curry didn’t quite have the requisite supporting cast, and he used up his considerable magic simply getting to the Elite 8.

Anthony was different. He averaged 20 and 10 over the course of the Tournament, and was truly brilliant – Einstein brilliant – in the Final Four. He pumped in 33 points and snared 14 rebounds while shooting 12-of-19 against Texas in the semifinal. And against Kansas in the title game, Melo had 20 points, 10 boards and seven assists. In one of the millennium’s true no-brainers, he was named the Final Four MOP.

Do you remember how transcendent Anthony was in 2003? How big of a sensation he was? How he had become a first-name commodity before he was legal to drink? If not, let’s peek at what people were saying back in March, 2003.

Sports Illustrated columnist Stewart Mendel, after the Texas game: “You'd seen the highlights; you'd heard all the hype. And still you could hardly believe your eyes.”

From the AP recap of the title game: “A ball fake here, a dribble between the legs there, a spin or a pull-up 3-pointer – nothing was out of the question with this guy, and very little of it was stoppable.”

Texas coach Rick Barnes: “Every point they (Syracuse) score, you can almost attribute to Carmelo when he's in the game…We tried to run different guys at Carmelo.”

Syracuse coach Jim Boeheim: “He's a man, man. He knows what to do.”

Now, to be fair, it’s not as though Syracuse’s roster was comprised of guys like that pipsqueak Ollie from the movie “Hoosiers.” Gerry McNamara could stroke it, scoring 19 against Texas and 18 in the first half against Kansas. And Hakim Warrick, while just a sophomore in 2003, could play some ball, too. But make no mistake – that was Anthony’s team. And without him, the Orangemen – they were still the Orangemen back then – would never have won it all that season.

But guess what. Despite the TV-commercial-inspiring, superlative-orgy-inducing escapades of Anthony in 2003, Blake Griffin has been even better in 2009. Way, way better.

In his first tournament game, Griffin went for 28 points and 13 rebounds, and in round two he somehow outdid himself – 33 points and 17 rebounds. Griffin has made 25-of-32 shots, good for a ludicrous 78 percent. Of his team’s 155 points through two rounds, Griffin has 61 of them, just under 40 percent. Consider this: Griffin had 33 and 17 in the second round, and Anthony had 30 and 17 in the first two rounds. And not to be outdone, Griffin has averaged the same number of assists per game – 2.5 – that Anthony did in 2003.

Griffin has been unreal. But don’t take my word for it. There are plenty of other people to make my case for me.

Coach Todd Bozeman of Morgan State, Griffin’s round one victim: “Even before the game, like I said, I mean who stopped him? Who stopped him yet this year? Why would we be any different?...He's off the charts. Nothing you can do other than I tried to find some kryptonite, but they didn't have it.”

OU football coach Bob Stoops: “He'd be an All-American tight end if he wanted.”

Tony Kornheiser, co-host of “Pardon the Interruption”: “Blake Griffin has been frighteningly good so far in the tournament….Griffin has been decidedly beastly.”

Kornheiser’s dueling parting, Michael Wilbon: “Blake Griffin is now starting to separate himself in a way you look to in March. Sometimes you look back on a situation like Carmelo Anthony like, ‘OK, yeah, I got it.’”

Griffin is that make-plans-to-watch-this-guy type of player. And Griffin, like Anthony and unlike Curry, has the supporting cast for OU to make a serious stab at a title. Willie Warren, who has scored at least 20 points seven times this season, is one of the elite freshmen in the nation. And Blake’s brother, Taylor, averages 10 points and six rebounds – and would maybe get more of both if not for the stat-vacuum he has as a brother.

One thing Anthony did that remains to be seen about Griffin is this: he got better as the tournament wore on. Starting in the Sweet 16, Anthony’s point totals went 18, 20, 33 and 20; his rebounds went eight, 10, 14 and 10. And in that lackluster championship game performance when Melo only got 20 and 10, don’t forget he dished out a game-high seven assists.

Who knows. Maybe Griffin can’t keep up this level of play, let alone keep playing better. Maybe the Orange shut him down in the Sweet 16, smother him with that 2-3 zone and trove of big, wide bodies. But maybe not. Maybe Griffin continues to be the most transcendent tournament talent – that plays for legitimate national title contender – since Anthony back in 2003.

Syracuse fans already know all about Anthony. Now they’re about to get an up-close look at the player who looks most capable of duplicating Melo’s magic.

Deja vu for Jayhawks?

2009-03-24T21:55:00.004-05:00

Article also available here.

In March, college basketball fans have two primary uses for history. First, history can salve pain. Inject some history into your thoughts and it can be an anesthetic, deadening the aches of the present by conjuring memories of the past.

Like when UCLA lost to Princeton the year after winning it all, or when Florida suffered back-to-back NCAA snubs following back-to-back NCAA titles, or when Syracuse spent a few years in the NIT while its championship trophy still glowed anew. Reliving past glory can make current trials a bit easier.

History serves one other major role this time of year: confidence booster. History can make obstacles appear smaller, success appear likelier, optimism appear justified. Heck, even Barack Obama has been using history to muster up some confidence this March.

“We've experienced great trials before,” Obama said recently. “And with every test, each generation has found the capacity to not only endure, but to prosper — to discover great opportunity in the midst of great crisis.”

Sure, the “great trials” for Obama are things like 10 percent unemployment, not being a 10-point underdog. To amend that Obama quote for the NCAA Tournament, you would have to change “discover great opportunity” to “knock down some threes,” and switch “in the midst of great crisis” to “when the other team had the momentum.”

But the point is the same: Sometimes, when the future looks bleak, the past can give people confidence that things will turn out alright. Because, after all, it’s happened before.

Well, Kansas Jayhawk fans would do well to remember a little history right about now. They don’t need it to wash away pain – in fact, that their team is back in the Sweet 16 after losing five NBA players last season is in itself an achievement. But they could invoke history to inspire confidence in a team that, as it currently stands, looks like it has little chance of getting back to the Final Four.

So, Jayhawks, if you’re a little worried, remember 2003. Because where KU sits right now looks a lot like 2003, when KU did indeed win their region and made it to the Final Four for the second straight season.

Unlike last year, when the Hawks coasted to a Final Four – facing a No. 12 seed in the Sweet 16 and a No. 10 in the Elite 8 – Kansas enters the second weekend of the tourney in a region still replete with big-time teams. The Jayhawks will first play No. 2 Michigan State – which already walloped Kansas this season – and then, if they beat MSU, take on Louisville or Arizona. Probably Louisville, seeing as the Cardinals haven’t lost since mid-February and are the No. 1 overall seed in the Tournament. Even if No. 12 ‘Zona somehow takes out Louisville – unlikely but not out of the questions – then the Jayhawks get to play a Wildcats team with a trio of future NBA players, and a team that, like Michigan State, already laid the wood to Kansas once this season, by 17 points back in December.

Not a lot to be happy about there. The Nos. 1 and 2 seeds are still alive, and both have legendary coaches and NBA talent. And the only outlier – if you can call it that – is Arizona, which doesn’t seem too ashamed of its inclusion in the tournament despite their underwhelming record. With Chase Budinger, Nic Wise and Jordan Hill, they could officially muzzle the nay-sayers with a how-ya-like-us-now? run to the Final Four. So there is no easy route for Kansas to get out of this region. The three teams that KU must outlast are stacked, and two of them have already dismembered the Jayhawks this season.

But KU has been here before. Back in 2003, in what turned out to be Roy Williams’ last season at Kansas, the Jayhawks waltzed through the first two round of the tourney and found themselves stuck in a absolutely loaded regional final. Joining them in Anaheim were No. 1 Arizona, No. 3 Duke and No. 5 Notre Dame.

OK, where to start with the similarities? How about the rosters. Back then it was Kirk Hinrich and Nick Collison. While neither of them ultimately warranted their NBA Draft Lottery status in the pros, they were studs in college. (Proof: Both of their jerseys are already retired, and that’s not something they do haphazardly at Kansas.) Well, like in 2003, KU has another gold-plated guard-big man duo in Sherron Collins and Cole Aldrich. And they are playing just as well as Collison and Hinrich were back then.

The stats don’t lie. During that 2003 season, Collison averaged 18.5 points, 10 rebounds, 1.9 blocks and shot 55.4 percent from the floor. Aldrich’s numbers this season: 14.8 points, 11 rebounds, 2.5 blocks and 60 percent form the floor. Sure, Aldrich isn’t quite as prolific a scorer, but he’s a better shot blocker and rebounder. Even with the 3.7 point-per-game difference, those numbers are eerily similar. Ditto for Collins and Hinrich. Kirk averaged 17.3 points, three rebounds and 3.5 assists. Sherron averages 18.9 points, three rebounds and five assists. Hinrich shot 40.6 percent form distance, Collins shoots 37.5. Hinrich was a third-team All-American, Collins a second-team All-American. Just one more – Hinrich and Collison combined for 35.8 points per game, which was 43 percent of KU’s 82.7 point average. Aldrich and Collins average of 33.7 of KU’s 76.8 points, good for 43 percent of the team’s scoring.

The similarities between 2003 and 2009 continue when you look at the opponents. Kansas’ Sweet 16 matchup was against Duke, which boasted the exact same 26-6 record entering that game that Michigan State will entering Friday’s game. Duke scored 153 points in their first two tournament games of 2003, MSU has scored 151. Duke shot 45.4 percent on the 2002-03 season, precisely the percentage that MSU has shot this season. Duke had nine guys who averaged at least 10 minutes per game, and so does Michigan State. Duke had a Hall of Fame coach, Michigan State yada-yada-yada.

And then there’s KU’s record. The Jayhawks carry the same 27-7 mark into the Sweet 16 that they did in 2003. Oh, and that 2003 Sweet 16 game was on March 27. The 2008 Sweet 16 game is on…March 27. (Cue eerie music.)

If things play out for Kansas like they did in 2003 – and so far, they have – then Kansas will play the top seed in the regional final. Then it was Arizona, now it’s Louisville. The commonalities? Let’s see, both teams have championship-winning coaches, they both had inexplicable early-season losses – Arizona to unranked LSU, Louisville to unranked Minnesota – and both were the overall No. 1 seed in the tourney. There is definitely some overlap.

History, of course, may not repeat itself. Maybe Michigan State punks Kansas just like they did in East Lansing earlier this season. Maybe Aldrich and Collins don’t actually have that Collison-Hinrich magic from yesteryear. Maybe Louisville further validates the Big East’s endless publicity and emphatically storms through the Midwest Region with no resistance.

But none of that has happened yet. And until it does, Kansas fans can take solace in history, in the prospect that the Jayhawks could repeat the past and make it to their first back-to-back Final Fours since, of course, 2003.

That’s not to say that the Jayhawks are some sure thing to reach the Final Four. It’s just to say that it’s happened before. History is on their side.

Maybe I was wrong?

2009-03-23T21:06:00.005-05:00

Now that this article has been published, I have had to rethink its premise. In it, I talk about how UCLA just completed the best four-year stretch of any team in college basketball history that didn't win a national title. But now, with the benefit (or curse) of hindsight, I am not so sure.

The criteria for that claim about UCLA are obvious enough: Three straight Final Fours from 2006-08. A whopping 123 wins since 2005-06, which is more Ws -- as of Saturday night -- than Kansas, UNC and Florida, the three most recent champs. There have also been a lot of UCLA first-round draft picks since 2006, like Jordan Farmar and Aaron Afflalo, as well as 2008 Lottery picks Kevin Love and Russell Westbrook. People say that Darren Collison, whose career just finished, is a first-rounde too. The Bruins won more than 82 percent of their games during this stretch, three Pac-10 titles, and 14 Tournament games in four year -- they were just 2 tournament wins shy of averaging a Final Four appearance.

At the very least, it would be hard to really prove that I'm wrong with the premise that UCLA, from 2006-09, had the best stretch of any team to not win the title. But after I filed that story, I got to thinking about Kansas. And while you can't prove me wrong about UCLA, a late-Roy KU run comes close. Still, I think UCLA wins. But let's see...

OK, we're looking at 2001 to 2004. This is the era that really made me rethink the UCLA assertion.

In 2001, sophomores Kirk Hinrich, Nick Collison and Drew Gooden went to the Sweet 16, where they were utterly and totally out-toughed by Illinois. I remember that game really well, actually. Kansas could hardly get the ball across half-court. They had 10 assists and 19 turnovers. It was horrible. But they finished the season 26-7, pretty good. You could tell that those three sophomores, plus Jeff Boschee, who was a year their elder, would be back to do more damage.

And they did. In 2002 they went to the Final Four playing vintage Roy basketball -- every game was a track meet. But as so often happens to Roy's teams in the Tournament -- and, by the way, what I think is going to happen when his current team plays Gonzaga this weekend -- they ran into a really tough team, Maryland, and were bounced. But KU finished 31-4, won the conference tournament championship, and sent Drew Gooden into the Draft Lottery. A hell of a team. And for two straight seasons.

Nay! Three straight! KU went back to the Final Four in 2003. This team was all about Hinrich, Collison and Keith Langford. The Jayhawks beat Duke and No. 1 Arizona on the way to the Final Four, blew out Dwayne Wade's Marquette team -- on the heels of Wade's triple-double -- yet were ultimately downed by Carmelo and Co. in the title game. By the time they got to the Final Four they really should have won the title, but didn't, which keeps this team in contention for the dubious "Best Team to Not Win a Title" tag.

The 2004 Tournament was a weird one for KU, and although they made it to the Elite 8 in Self's first year in Lawrence, asterisks abound on this team. Their first three Tournament opponents were Illinois-Chicago, Pacific and UAB (Mike Anderson's UAB). Plus, the Hawks were the only team that didn't have to get on a plane to get to the first or second weekend of the Big Dance, with the first two rounds in Kansas City and the Regional Finals in St. Louis. But for the record, this team made it to the Elite 8, where it lost to Georgia Tech in OT. Regardless of their breaks -- and there were some -- this team still had a good season.

That four-year stretch meets a lot of the criteria that UCLA met. NBA players? You got em -- Gooden, Collison, Hinrich, Simien. Final Fours? You got em -- only two, not three like UCLA, but the Hawks did reach the Elite 8 in 2004, and the pocketed just as many Tournament wins -- 14 -- as UCLA did. Win? Oh, there were wins -- 111 of them.*

* Along with the Final Four count is probably the best argument against KU. UCLA, again, had 123. But the big similarity: no titles.

You of course are more than welcome to chime in if you have any thoughts on whether the 2006-09 UCLA Bruins are better than the 2001-04 Kansas Jayhawks. Both teams had a ton of talent and won a ton of games, and neither won a title. And naturally, you can introduce different teams and different four-year stretches if you would like.

Stuff Watch, V

2009-03-21T10:46:00.005-05:00

A small respite from March Madness...

The Kansas City Star's Bob Dutton wrote an article about the Royals' pitching staff sans Jimmy Gobble, who was recently let go from the team after an underwhelming stint in KC. In a quote this long, there was no way manager Trey Hillman could avoid using the word stuff.

If it’s late, I’m pretty comfortable with Ron Mahay, Juan Cruz and Kyle Farnsworth because of stuff.

Cruz is not just hard all of the time. He can throw that nasty change-up in there against left-handers. He’ll spin that slider on the back foot. Farnsworth throws a slider so hard, most times it doesn’t seem there’s recognition of the dot — that slider dot that a hitter sees.

As long as they’re performing with the ability level that we think they have, with their stuff, it doesn’t concern me a whole lot. I hope it plays out that way for us.

The article went on...

Gobble’s .257 opponents’ OBP for left-handed hitters led all Royals’ relievers last year — Joakim Soria was second at .261 — and easily topped the numbers posted by newcomers Cruz (.310), Doug Waechter (.358) and Farnsworth (.375).

The major-league average last season, for comparison purposes, was .341. The 10-year average is .345.

Mahay and John Bale, the two other primary left-handed candidates, also failed to duplicate Gobble’s left-on-left success. Mahay was equally effective against both sides with identical .327 marks; Bale was actually better against righties at .306 compared with his .356 against lefties.

The Stuff Watch is property of Vrani Fieldhouse. The meticulous tabulation of how many times the word "stuff" gets thrown around regarding the Royals' pitching staff -- especially by manager Trey Hillman -- was started here at Vrani Fieldhouse, and thanks to America's strong history of protecting innovative ideas, this is the venue for this type Stuff tracker. Vrani Fieldhouse also reserves the right to expand the Stuff Watch to other similarly vague and funny pitching-related words, such as "junk." Wanna keep track of how often Chiefs coach Todd Haley uses the word "culture," go ahead. Curious how often Missouri coach Mike Anderson gets caught on camera saying the word "bulls**t," be my guest. But any unauthorized use of the Stuff Watch, Stuff Watch software, or other calculations of Stuff-related Royals banter is prohibited without the express written consent of Vrani. Needless to say, I take this stuff seriously.

Will road blocks be removed again?

2009-03-20T19:43:00.009-05:00

We'll see what happens the rest of the way. But I thought it was interesting, and reminiscent of last year, that West Virginia lost to Dayton today.

Kansas, of course, was slated to play the Mountaineers in the second round, one of those rugged Big East teams that no one wants to play in the Tournament because, you know, like, every Big East team is a national powerhouse nowadays.*

* Kansas State coach Frank Martin may have said it best: "The Big East, when the Georgetowns and whoever else loses games, they say it's because their league is so good. When teams in our league lose games, it's because our league is not good enough. If you look at the numbers in the non-league schedule, that does not make any sense to me."

(More good Martin here, or just scroll down a bit.)

Anyway, what's interesting about West Virginia's loss is that last season, all the teams in the Jayhawks' bracket that were supposed to give KU trouble -- like West Virgina was this season -- tumbled before KU had to play them. No. 4 Vanderbilt lost in the first round, and No. 5 Clemson lost in the second round. So instead of playing either of those teams in the Sweet 16, KU was left with No. 12 Villanova. Sure, Nova was a good team, not to mention from the Big East (...ooooo, scary), but in the Tournament I think you always want to play the odds -- or, you'd always rather play the upstart than the big-time team. I would have rather squared off with Davidson in the Elite 8 last season -- despite Steph Curry's nutty March -- than square off against Georgetown, the No. 2 seed in KU's bracket, who, like No. 3 seed Wisconsin, also bowed out early.

True, Davidson downed both of those teams, so you could argue that Davidson is the team you want to avoid. But I just don't buy that. I will always take the team that had the worse regular season and less overall talent.

I understand that that stance is debateable. It reminds me of a high school buddy who not only would never, ever wear a seat belt, but would talk about how seat belts were dangerous and indeed counterproductive. "My dad was in a wreck," the friend's story went, "and if he were wearing his seat belt, he would have died."

Well, that may be true. But in car accidents -- just as in the NCAA Tournament -- I think you have to play the odds. Sure, there are your occassional Cinderellas who never run out of magic, like Kansas in 1988 or Arizona in 1997, who defied the "They'll eventually cool off" theory. But those teams, like the rare accident victim who benefits from not wearing a seat belt, are the exception to the rule.

It is going to be really interesting now to see if the high seeds continue to tumble, just like they did last season when No. 2 Georgetown, No. 3 Wisconsin, No. 4 Vanderbilt, No. 5 Clemson, No. 6 USC and No. 7 Gonzaga all lost before KU had to play them, leaving Kansas with -- mathematically -- pretty much the easiest route possible, facing off against a 10 seed in the Elite 8.* Again, KU ended up playing the darling of the tourney, Davidson, but again, I'd rather play Davidson, regardless of how hot they are, than a team with a sterling record and/or loads of athleticism, like those 2-7 seeds.

* The truly easiest route would have been if KU played Maryland-Baltimore County, the No. 15 seed, but that wasn't in the cards.

Things got started this afternoon when Dayton beat WV. Now, if USC/BC beats No. 2 seed Michigan State on Sunday, deja vu may set in. Really, you can have the talent. But if you don't catch some breaks along the way, things don't always work out. And in March, no one should be too proud to embrace some lucky brakes.

This year, a loss won't kill

2009-03-18T10:56:00.006-05:00

Every now and then, I get to talking like quite a homer here on the blog. I think I do a decent job of staying non-partisan, having dumped heaps of praise on Missouri football and basketball, lauding Frank Martin, writing an entire post about how cool Lincoln is on gameday when the Huskers are in town.

Cull the different topics over there on the right side of the screen, and you will find posts with words of praise -- praise for sworn enemies -- that more than a few Jayhawk fans would gag trying to say.

Sometimes, though, my true colors -- crimson and blue -- shine through pretty brightly. And with the start of the NCAA Tournament imminent, Vrani Fieldhouse may temporarily be to Kansas basketball what Fox News is to conservatives -- an outlet that operates under the guise of impartiality, all the while cheerleading for the cause and making excuses should things not go to plan.

Before I go on, let me quickly say:

- I truly hope Missouri makes it to the Sweet 16, and also that they beat Memphis -- even if that means the Tigers get further than Kansas. MU makes me nervous, what with their utter lack of tournament experience. But hey, Coach Anderson took UAB to the Sweet 16, so I think he's got some tricks up his sleeve. M - I - Z...(Z - O - U coming if the MU Tigers beat the UM Tigers. Stay tuned.)

- I said it yesterday, but Frank Martin and K-State had a good year. More on that and Martin's future in politics if you scroll down.

- Doc Sadler did a good job with a roster totally depleted of big-time players. Now he needs to recruit someone because, alas, the coach is at least partially responsible for having the smallest roster in Div. I. But nonetheless, good work, Doc.

- I still think Colorado is heading in the right direction.

- Blake Griffin is the best player in the country. (Although I do have OU bowing out to Clemson in Round 2 because their guards aren't that good and Clemson plays in-your-face D.)

OK, is that enough praise? Have I sufficiently covered myself to morph into KU basketball mode? Yes? Good. Here goes.

The overriding feeling for me this year is: I don't care if KU wins the national title.* And I think this is the first time in my basketball-watching life that I have ever held that sentiment -- and really, really meant it.

* I would of course being running up the walls if KU did win the title, or even if they made it to the Final Four. Heck, I'd be running up the walls if KU makes it to the Sweet 16. I'm not trying to pass myself off as someone who's going to be nonchalantly reading the Mario's Miracle Sports Illustrated from last April, peaking at what's happening in the tourney every now and then and disinterestedly sipping tea on the patio. I am not feigning indifference. There is no such thing as indifference in the NCAA Tournament for any basketball fan, let alone when your team is in the Big Dance. So when I say I don't care if KU wins the national title, that's true. But I am not -- could not -- trying to pass myself off as a casual basketball observer, interested but not invested in KU's success. I am definitely invested, just not as much as I was in each and every preceding March.

My current state of mind is not apathy. It's relaxation -- relaxation regarding the Hawks' Tournament success, a state of mind of course born last April, when KU won it all. Along with last season's title, I am relaxed regarding this upcoming tournament because Kansas has very little chance of winning it all.

But there have been vincible KU teams before, and never have I been so relaxed regarding their NCAA fate. Think about 1999, when Jeff Boschee was KU's go-to guy and players like Ryan Robertson and T.J. Pugh weren't role players, but actually counted upon to thrive. I was still absolutely emotionally invested in KU's tournament success. There was no logical reason to think that the Jayhawks would get out of the second round, yet I cared oh so much how they did. When they lost to Kentucky it killed me, even though the very fact that Kansas forced overtime against a team as good as that Kentucky team was in itself a victory.*

* Ryan Robertson had one of the all-time stat lines in that Kentucky game. He was seven of 10 from the floor for 31 points. 31 points, 10 shots. He was averaging more than three points per shot. Incredible. He was four of six from downtown, 13 of 14 from the line, five boards, three dimes, incredible. That performance was a total aberration, but it was incredible nonetheless.

I was again pretty bummed the next season, in 2000, when Kansas, an eight seed, lost to a loaded No. 1 Duke team. Kansas was a 10-point underdog against the Devils, had lost nine games on the season, was breaking in freshmen Hinrich, Collison and Gooden -- prime-time players, but still freshmen -- and Duke had Jay Williams, Carlos Boozer, Shane Battier. Kansas basically had no business winning that game, yet when they lost by five to an obviously-superior Duke squad, it was still tough stomach.

1999 and 2000 are instructive years for my Tournament-loss blues because KU wasn't that good either season. It goes without saying that the No. 1 seed Vaughn-LaFrentz-Pierce-Pollard-Thomas team in 1997 absolutely broke my heart with their Sweet 16 loss to Arizona. So did another No. 1 Kansas team, the very next season with Pierce and LaFrentz still around. That was the season they lost to Rhode Island. I remember watching that game so clearly -- that lackluster first half, the early-second half run that made it seem like everything was fine, Mobley and Wheeler storming back and hitting three after three. Yeah, that was bad.

Every year has been bad though. Every year I entertain grandiose dreams, far-fetched rationalizations...

Well, I know Jeff Boschee is our best player, but what if he's really, really hot, and really, really hot for six straight games? Sure, he's averaging 11 points, but if he can just get, oh, 25 or 30 per game, then everyone else is definitely good enough to put together a run.

No matter how good or how bad -- relatively bad; KU hasn't been bad bad in decades -- Kansas has been in years past, I would always hold out hope for a title. Whether I wanted to or not, I would invest myself in Kansas' post-season fate. Last season was no different, and I had already begun the grieving process by the time Sherron Collins got that late-game steal-and-three combo.

In hindsight, last season's Memphis game was like rehab. That game cleansed me of the need, the dependence, the clinginess to KU's post-season success. Like anyone who has struggled with with March Madness madness, it's not that I am over Kansas basketball. If another 10 or 20 years pass and KU is still showing replays of that Chalmers shot because that was the last team to cut down the nets, well, then I may again revert to my habit of being hung up -- too hung up -- on what KU does in the Tournament.

But not this year. I'll be watching, I'll be cheering, I'll probably even be yelling at balls that don't go in. But I won't be distraught if KU loses. No -- let me rephrase that. I won't be distraught when KU loses.

I can admit it this season, and admitting it is the first step toward recovery, toward not living and dying with the NCAA Tournament. That and winning a title.