Oh boy. This makes me sad.

Steve Francis, revered in China since his days in Houston with Yao Ming, arrived in Beijing early in the morning on December 14th to a hero’s welcome; a homecoming of sorts for one of China’s favorite players of all time.


13 days later, Fu Laoda’s happy homecoming has turned into a messy divorce.

According to Sina Sports, the Beijing Shougang Ducks have decided to cut Francis from their roster, just six games after the three-time NBA All-Star joined up with the franchise. Although the team has yet to formally announce the news, Francis’ agent has confirmed to the Chinese news outlet that the nine-year NBA veteran will be released by the organization shortly and will return to the United States within the next couple of days.

Since arriving with the team less than two weeks ago, Francis has played a total of 14 minutes over four games, averaging 0.5 points 0.7 rebounds.

Though Sina is reporting that the team is cutting Francis, a source speaking to NiuBBall.com indicated that the break-up was mutual and that both sides were equally ready to move on. Francis, who was brought in on a large contract after Beijing head coach, Min Lulei, flew out to the U.S. to watch him work out in November, became quickly frustrated with Min over his lack of minutes and felt as if the team was merely using him to sell tickets and merchandise. Francis had not played more than five minutes in a single game, and had received his second straight DNP-CD tonight against Jiangsu after not getting any action on Friday against Bayi.

“He didn’t fly all the way out to China to just sit on the bench,” the source said.

Since he’s been in uniform, attendance figures for both Beijing home and away games have risen dramatically, as fans have been eager to catch a glimpse of one of their all-time favorite NBA stars.

The Ducks, however, have also experienced their share of perceived frustrations over the last two weeks, most of which have revolved around Francis’ poor conditioning and behavior towards his coaches.

When Francis first arrived, Min indicated that the player would not be seeing major minutes during games before his conditioning improved to an acceptable level after almost three years away from the game. Though Min came away impressed enough to sign him to a contract after he flew out to the States to see Francis practice, team management had major concerns about his ability to handle a full season of games even after the workout and up until he came to China. After Francis joined with the team in Beijing and began practicing, it became apparent to team management that Francis’ body was too out of shape and his skills too eroded, and that it was unrealistic for them to heavily invest in a player that could not be counted on serious on-court contributions this season.

In addition to Francis’ unacceptable physical condition, Beijing also grew weary of his attitude towards practicing. The final straw appears to have been drawn yesterday on Christmas when Francis, against the wishes of coaches, skipped a morning practice to spend the holiday with his family. The vast majority of Chinese do not celebrate Christmas, and since the Chinese government does not legally recognize the day as a holiday, workers and students are not given a day off.

“Yesterday, the whole team practiced, but only [Francis] went to go spend Christmas with his family,” Coach Min said to reporters after tonight’s 104-89 win against Jiangsu, visibly angry. “This afternoon I was still speaking with him, I wanted to find him a conditioning coach to work him out for a bit. But he said to me that he needs to play in games, not practice…”

After not playing on Friday in Beijing’s win against Bayi, Francis received his second straight DNP-CD tonight. Apparently at his wits end over not playing, Francis left the bench and halftime and did not return for the second half.

“I don’t know if other coaches would give him the minutes he wants, but the whole team has been working hard in practice. Actually, I had planned to let him play today but the first quarter we got down by too much.”

When asked by a reporter if Francis and the team were close to going their separate ways, Min nodded his head sligthly and answered, “I waited another day or two to talk to you guys [the media] again. Right now I don’t know how Francis sees it all… Today we got a big win, but I’m in a very bad mood.”

No time was given by the Sina report as to when the team will officially break the news.

Francis’ short stay in the country’s capital can be best described as adventurous. His debut came unexpectedly when Min substituted a clearly unprepared Francis onto the court for the final 17 seconds of Beijing’s home victory against Qingdao on December 15th after the coach publicly stated on multiple occasions that he would wait to put Francis into the lineup until he had practiced a few times with the team and acclimated himself to the 13 hour New York-Beijing time difference. With his shoes unlaced and an ice-pack taped over his socks, Francis dribbled out the clock to deafening cheers by the supportive Beijing home crowd.

In the team’s next game against Shandong on the 17th, Francis played his first meaningful period of basketball, tallying a total of four minutes, all of which came during the second quarter. In a chaotic sequence of events, Francis lost his balance on several occasions, slipping and falling on the floor as he ran for loose balls on his way to one rebound, two turnovers and two fouls.

In his third game on the 19th against Guangdong, Francis scored his first and only basket of his China career in a little over five minutes, but his play on the court was overshadowed by a late game incident that happened off the court. Coming down to the wire in a close game away against three-time defending champs, Guangdong, Beijing’s star import, Randolph Morris, fouled out on a questionable loose ball foul battling for a rebound under the boards. Morris, displeased with the call, walked back to the bench incredulously as the game’s television camera focused in on him. Unknowingly on camera, Francis, in the background and on the bench, extended a middle finger over his head to the ref protesting the call. Though he went unpunished by in-game officials, he received a warning by the league for his “uncivilized behavior”, and the team was ordered to privately “criticize and educate” the player to prevent any similar acts from occurring in the future, which is a common and accepted form of punishment within the country.

Originally signed on for a one-year deal with an option for a second, Francis and Beijing have already negotiated a release sum, according to the source.

With the win over Jiangsu, Beijing has now won its last six games and stands in third place at 6-1. At present, it is unclear who the Ducks will target to replace Francis on their import roster.

Whitlock on LeBron: "I Give Up."

Jason Whitlock is my favorite sportswriter. Here's why:

I give up.

This column was going to be a plea for LeBron James to apologize to Cleveland fans for the classless way he exited the city.

An apology in the hours before Thursday’s Heat-Cavs tipoff would douse some of the animosity sure to fill Quicken Loans Arena.

An apology would relieve some of the stress on a Heat team totally uncomfortable with playing the role of villain, of being the team America loves to hate.

An apology would serve James’ image well, allowing his objective critics to move on.

But I give up. LeBron James looks, feels and sounds like a lost cause today, a millionaire celebrity incapable of reaching rock bottom, self-reflection or uttering an ounce of remorse.

Talent in the kind of abundance James is blessed with is a curse. It seduces the owner into believing his flaws are his strengths.

I once knew a Pro Bowl NFL receiver who believed being high on marijuana during practice and games was the key to his success. He said he’d been playing and practicing high since high school. He had no idea his reliance on marijuana was the main reason he’d never be a Hall of Fame receiver, and that’s not to suggest there are no recreational drug users in the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

Lawrence Taylor was so gifted it never mattered what he did before kickoff; putting on a uniform 16 Sundays a year was as responsible as LT needed to be.

LeBron James thinks he’s as dedicated to the game as Kobe Bryant, Tim Duncan, Steve Nash and Tyler Hansbrough.

Nope. He’s more talented, the game comes easier to LeBron. He can excel in the NBA without ever submitting to coaching. He can earn lifetime financial security without ever attending college or grinding at the bottom of the corporate ladder. He can win friends and be popular with women without ever demonstrating humility or showing respect.

You wonder why Big Ben Roethlisberger tried to have sex with a college student inside a nightclub closet/bathroom? Probably because he had before. People do what works. If bad habits get rewarded, people never interpret them as bad habits.

LeBron James bullies the coaches who dare to coach him, who dare to try to define for him the sacrifices necessary for true greatness.

According to an ESPN story, the Heat players, particularly LeBron, are bothered that Erik Spoelstra is demanding that LeBron conduct himself in a more professional demeanor. Spoelstra has committed the felonious crime of yelling at LeBron in front of his teammates. Spoelstra won’t let LeBron be LeBron the way a parent won’t let a child be an unbathed child day after day.

The story appears to be intentionally leaked by members of Team LeBron -- the clueless group that brought you The Decision — to undermine Spoelstra. In reality, it undermines James.

That’s why I give up.

The people surrounding and advising James are just as devoid of mature perspective as James. They’ve been blessed with a gift (James) so talented they can’t recognize their flaws, either. Their flaws, in their minds, have no real consequences, especially none that can’t be explained away by racism or “haterade.”

It’s the blind leading the blind. Unless one of them talks James into financing a dogfighting ring, it’s highly unlikely James will ever snap out of his cluelessness.

Seriously, that’s what it took for us to see the best of Michael Vick, another once-in-a-generation talent who never approached his potential until he sat behind bars for 19 months.

I have no interest in seeing LeBron James go to prison.

So I give up. I’m just going to accept his immaturity and stubbornness and bullying. He’s an immense talent I’ll never fully enjoy or appreciate. I’ll tune in Thursday night and root for the Cavaliers.

James is a lost cause. He’ll never man up and apologize. His bank account says he doesn’t have to. His friends say he shouldn’t. His coworkers and peers, besides Spoelstra, are too fearful to tell James what they really think. He’s a bully. Team LeBron’s next media leak could be about how Chris Bosh needs to be traded or Dwyane Wade must shoot less.

King Blames must be made happy in order for the Heat to reach their potential. The Little Diaper won Ohio state championships when everyone catered to his needs.

King Blames can’t hear us. Not any of us who ask him to rule the basketball world with grace, class, fairness and eye toward greatness. We don’t need him. And he doesn’t need us.

I give up.

E-mail Jason or follow him on Twitter. Media requests for Mr. Whitlock should be directed to Fox Sports PR.

Cowboys, Nancy Boys and Po' Boys: Random Musings for 11.18.10

Some random musings as I dream about the Oyster Po Boy I’m going to be devouring in a few days . . .

Have you noticed all the trick plays that have been popping up on YouTube and elsewhere? Hell, the other night Ohio State coach Jim Foster called a fake timeout, the LSU's girls started walking to their bench, and a Lady Buckeye made an uncontested layup. God knows I'm old school, but is that really how you want to win a game? By pulling a fast one on your opponent? Am I stupid to think a win has more meaning if you actually outplay somebody head-to-head on the court? Has the world gone crazy? Am I asking too many questions? Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food?

Why is LeBron so pissed? Why can’t he understand the reaction of fans who now view him as an egotistical, immature, spoiled, self-centered multi-millionaire? How can he not see this? Why does he feel so put-upon? I’ll tell you. Because he’s surrounded by back-patting, glad-handing, blood-sucking leeches who hang on his every word and crack up at every joke he tells. Bron-Bron can do no wrong, kids. Ever see that Elvis documentary where they film everything, including a bunch of behind the scenes stuff? You know, where Elvis mumbles some lame joke and everyone in the room acts like he’s fucking brilliantly hilarious? That’s LeBron’s life.

And I know the Heat will end up winning 55 games but it sure is fun watching them struggle early, ain’t it? People are finally figuring out that it takes a TEAM to win basketball games. Remember the Lakers of a few years ago with Kobe, Shaq, Karl Malone and Gary Peyton? How soon we forget.

Finally, when I got over my disappointment and anger it wasn’t surprising that LeBron “took his talents to South Beach.” In the culture of AAU isn’t that what you do? Just go to the team with the best players? Sure, Michael, Magic and Larry would have never made “The Decision,” but that’s why they’re in the rare air that LeBron will never, ever, breathe.

On a related note, I recently read that within 15-20 years high school athletics will cease to exist as we know it, that everything will be club sports similar to AAU. Sadly, this makes perfect sense to me. School administrators will love it because they’ll have no equipments costs, no transportation costs, no liability, and best of all no bitching parents. Parents will love it because every kid will have a team and, best of all, nobody will get cut. Billy’s not good enough to make the AAU All-Ohio Red Squad? No sweat. Billy’s dad just starts his own team! Hell, he played on his intramural team, he knows basketball! And just think, none of those annoying High School Athletic Association’s “Rules & Regulations” to worry about. Everybody will be better off without having to get worked up about, you know, getting passing grades or behaving on the court, silly stuff like that. After all, it’s all about “having fun out there,” right?

Good Lord.

Oh, I know Mike Vick is playing great, everybody deserves a second chance, blah-blah-blah. Bottom line, I love watching great athletes but I also hate people who kill and torture dogs. Sorry, but throwing dogs in water, electrocuting them and watching them die is not my idea of a bitchin’ time. You gotta remember, I’m a guy who still can’t think of his little Scottish Terrier without tearing up, and she passed over 2-years ago. Guess I’m a softie. Screw you Vick.

And how ‘bout them Cowboys? They absolutely blow their first seven games and suddenly remember how to play a few days after getting a new coach? Them Cowboys must be a fragile bunch. I’ve never liked Wade Phillips, but his team quit on him, simple as that. Or are we supposed to believe that Jason Garrett’s game-plan and new “disciplined” approach made the difference? Don’t think so. They simply decided to play.

You know who makes me sicker? The Bengals. Marvin’s laid-back approach is killing me, and Carson Palmer is acting just like his head coach. What I’d give to see him grab Ocho Stinko by the facemask and tell him to get the hell off the field. This “professional” and “business-like” approach has got to go. Get pissed for once, dammit.

Don’t even get me started on Brett Favre, Randy Moss or Albert Haynesworth. Jesus.

I have no idea what to think of the football Buckeyes. I don’t know if they’re any good or not. None.

Most of you know I coached a team from Montserrat that visited the USA last month. It was a hell of a week, lemme tell ya. I’m in debt forever to Coach Tressel and all he did for the team. The tour of the Woody Hayes Center, Ohio Stadium, weight facility, meeting Terrelle Pryor, private 30-minute talk to the team from Coach, it was just an unbelievable, once-in-a-lifetime experience for the guys. Add the visit to OSU hoops practice, West Virginia practice, and all the games played and the dinners attended and it was unforgettable for all involved.

Speaking of hoops, I’ve watched both OSU and WV practice and I’ll say this – WV is underrated (look out for Kevin Jones!) and, although they’re ranked #5, so may be the Buckeyes. They’re deep and very talented.

How sad am I for Greg Oden? Very. I hated to hear the news of his latest injury. Still, you can call me a fool but I still think he’s going to be an impact player in the league someday. Then again, I also was convinced LeFraud was going to stay in Cleveland.

That’s it, I’m out. As of next week I’m taking my talents to the Outer Banks. That Po Boy awaits.

Diva wide receivers. Who needs 'em?

From Doc down in Cincy. By the way, I've been saying this exact same thing for years.

Now that the Randy Moss, how-boorish-can-I-be tour has settled in Nashville like a yard full of moles, it's time to shatter a few NFL myths, starting with Moss and the position he plays.

It's amazing the time, money and babysitting some clubs will spend on their wide receivers, given that wide receiver is the easiest position to fill in the NFL, and the least important to winning. You'd think Moss and his diva receiva brethren were left tackles or edge rushers, given the attention they're afforded.

Because the NFL is about conventional wisdom, and because its coaches generally see creativity as a threat to life as we know it, myths live on: The wisdom of punting, for example. That establishing the run is vital to winning. That great wideouts are important.

Mostly, punting is a white-flag waste of time and an expression of coachly timidity. If your team is behind in a game and outside its 30-yard line, it should never punt. Especially if your team is playing the way the local team is playing now. When you are 2-5 and all but statistically out of the playoff picture, what do you have to lose by using all four downs? Another game?

Think of how an offensive coordinator's playbook would expand if 3rd-and-6 were the new 2nd-and-6. Imagine the massive migraines that would provide a defensive coordinator, whose calls are heavily influenced by what plays the other guys tend to run in certain situations.

Imagine giving Peyton Manning 25 percent more snaps, every game.

But we digress.

Establishing The Run has little to do with winning games, and never has. Winning NFL teams win by throwing, not running. Don't believe me. Believe a guy who crunches stats for fun and profit. My pal Kerry Byrne runs the website coldhardfootballfacts.com. He says teams owning the highest average yards per pass attempt win big. Always have.

Otto Graham has the highest yards-per-throw average ever, 8.62. He also has the highest winning percentage among quarterbacks, ever, .810. Graham's career record was 57-13-1. The modern parallel is Ben Roethlisberger, who will be here Monday night. Big Ben, says Byrne, has the highest YPA in the NFL in the last 50 years.

“If you have a high average per attempt, you're going to win. Period,'' says Byrne.

That wouldn't seem to square with the argument that high-price, high-maintenance wide receivers - Byrne calls them “hood ornaments'' -- aren't vital. But it does. It only requires deeper crunching of the numbers. Football coaches aren't big on that. Unlike their baseball brethren - who use stats as a crutch - football coaches rely on conventional wisdom. They look back.

“Football is dominated by conventional wisdom,'' Byrne says, “and a lot of conventional wisdom is flat-out wrong.''

A deeper look at the numbers reveals that teams with great quarterbacks win big. Receivers are incidental. Name Tom Brady's wideouts when New England was winning three Super Bowls, win fabulous prizes chosen just for you.

While you're at it, name two wide receivers from last year's Super Saints team. Name one.

Byrne mines deeper history. The notion that the Bill Walsh 49ers could not have dominated without Jerry Rice is false. The Niners' greatest year - 15-1 in 1984, a Super title - came when Rice was at Mississippi Valley State. Joe Montana's favorite target was Roger Craig. He was a halfback.

As Byrne writes, “Rice didn't make the 49ers winners. The 49ers made Rice a winner.''

The assumption that Pittsburgh achieved greatness in the 70s on the talents of Lynn Swann and John Stallworth? Sorry. The Stillers dominated the decade with exactly one 1,000-yard season from a wideout, Stallworth in '79. In his nine NFL seasons, Swann averaged just 607 yards a year.

Even now, Roethlisberger's impressive YPA is not because he has had Pro Bowl wide receivers. Hines Ward is a very good player. He's not Randy Moss.

Michael Irvin? The “playmaker''? He caught 10 TD passes in a season just once.

And so on. Randy Moss' presence did not equal a Super Bowl title for New England in 2007, when the Pats went 16-0 in the regular season. In the Tom Brady Era, the Patriots are 12- 2 in the postseason without Moss, and 2-2 with him. Receivers might be the drama kings of the NFL. They might own the highlights portion of the program. Like Moss, they might get more chances to preen their feathers than their worth.

When it comes to winning, wide receivers are way down the list of must-haves. Something to ponder on Monday night, in case a couple of the local wideouts get a little, you know, carried away.

10 Most Disappointing Teams of 2010. We're #3! We're #3!

From The Shutdown Corner:

The 10 most disappointing NFL teams of 2010

By Shane Bacon

1.) Dallas Cowboys (1-6): A playoff team a year ago, the Cowboys have had nearly the perfect storm in terms of falls from grace. The most popular sports team with no real answer to the problem, star quarterback and heartthrob hurt during the season, entire fan base up in arms about the struggles, and to boot, the Super Bowl being played at their stadium this season, when everyone was penciling them in to be a part of the festivities. Also, when a team has my dad mumbling on the phone to me, "I just have never seen anything like it," you know it's bad. The Cowboys could end the season with two wins, and at this point, that might be a stretch.

2.) Minnesota Vikings (2-5): At least the Cowboys have the Brad Childress/Brett Favre(notes)/Randy Moss Show to thank for not making Dallas look like the only lost souls in the NFL in 2010. The Vikings have also had a list of things go bad, including a continued quarterback situation (because it isn't really a controversy) that is only made better because it includes one of the wishy-washiest players in the history of sports, who, to boot, is involved in a sex scandal with a girl that was made famous because she was caught on the sidelines of a Florida State game with, umm, a well-fitted shirt. Minnesota was 12-4 last season, making it all the way to the NFC Championship game, but continues to fire bullets into their own shoes whenever possible.

3.) Cincinnati Bengals (2-5): Have you ever gone to a high school reunion, and ran into that "it girl" from your younger years that just doesn't look as good as she used to look, but you still hold her extremely high in your mind because she was the "one you could never touch"? I feel like that's the Cincinnati Bengals, a team we keep thinking is supposed to be good even though none of their pieces really work anymore. Carson Palmer(notes) isn't even a top-15 quarterback anymore. Both "star" receivers can't do much to change the momentum of a game. The defense is giving up over 23 points per game. We've just got to the point with Cincinnati where we need to realize who they are (not very good) and stop expecting them to be who they aren't (2005 Bengals).

4.) San Francisco 49ers (2-6): Everyone's favorite sleeper this season, the 49ers define one of the easiest, but most forgotten, trends going on in the NFL; if you have no quarterback, you can't be consistent. It's OK, though. They're 1-0 in games played outside the United States, and everyone in San Fran will be so loopy from the Giants winning the World Series that they will hardly remember a football team even plays on Sundays for the next four months.

5.) Denver Broncos (2-6): A little high here for some because nobody thought the Broncos would be that good this season, but they did start the season 2-2 before dropping four straight, with the last two coming at the hands of the Raiders and 49ers. One of my favorite sneaky stats of this season? Brady Quinn(notes) makes more per salary year than Kyle Orton(notes).

6.) Carolina Panthers (1-6): In their six losses this season, the Panthers have failed to score more than 10 points in four of them, which makes people like myself who own DeAngelo Williams(notes) in a fantasy league jump for joy. Here is their current depth chart at quarterback: Matt Moore(notes), Jimmy Clausen(notes) and Tony Pike(notes). If at any time, one of those guys came trotting out to play for your football team, you'd immediately turn off the TV and go back to Sunday chores.

7.) Arizona Cardinals (3-4): Remember when I said that thing about the three quarterbacks on the Panthers depth chart? Larry Fitzgerald(notes) was reading that, salivating on his computer.

(Also, a mini-tangent. I live in the greater Phoenix area, and have for the last two seasons. When the Cardinals were thinking of building a new stadium, they had two options; one in the middle of the city, where parts like Mesa/Tempe/Scottsdale collide, and one in a place called Glendale, where only scorpions and Joe Arpaio have ever ventured. What did they pick? Glendale. Now, to "enjoy" a Cardinals game with friends, you either get someone to DD or spend $200 on a cab. Thanks for looking out for your true fans, Arizona!)

8.) San Diego Chargers (3-5): Moved quickly down the list with a big win last week against the Titans, but you still have to look at the whole of the Chargers season as a disappointment. They've lost to the Chiefs, Seahawks, Raiders and Rams, not exactly a list of teams that makes you run for the hills. While that win jumped them to 3-5, it still has San Diego looking up in its division at the Raiders and Chiefs, with two of its next three at Houston and Indianapolis.

9.) Washington Redskins (4-4): I'll just say this about the Redskins: If Mike Shanahan wasn't Mike Shanahan, and just some regular coach like Josh McDaniels, he would be getting the most flak of anyone in the league. There really isn't anything like pissing off two of your highest profile players to prove to people "you're boss." It just seems like when you're 58 years old, maybe taking the high road on a few of these spats with players could end up being beneficial to your team in the long run, but who am I to talk, I haven't won two Super Bowl rings 12 years ago!

10.) Buffalo Bills (0-7): Hey, if you haven't won a game this season, you're going to be on this list, even if nobody thought you'd be any good. I was really hoping for a tie in that Kansas City game last week in case the Bills went winless, they could forever be known as the 0-15-1 team.

Urban Meyer, Insufferable Prick and Hypocrite

From our friends over at The Big Lead:

The Florida Gators lost their second consecutive SEC game to LSU last weekend. Not coincidentally, head coach Urban Meyer decided Chris “Time to Die Bitch” Rainey had done his penance for texting his girlfriend a death threat. He has been reinstated. I could shake my head and attribute this to Meyer being just another ball coach, if he wasn’t such an insufferable hypocrite.


Meyer has perpetuated an ethos since he became Gators coach. Florida is the school of Tebow. They don’t just recruit talent. They recruit for character. This is Meyer from a profile by Stewart Mandel in 2006.

“I always like to ask a female at the school — a secretary, or someone coming down the hall,” said Meyer. “It’s important a kid has respect for women. And they [the women] will tell you the truth.”

“We won’t offer a kid unless we’re sure he’s a good kid,” said Meyer.

Meyer has had 30 of his Florida players arrested since those statements. That number is only the players who were caught. Either these comments were complete bullshit or Urban Meyer is sanctioning such an outlandish den of iniquity it is corrupting every fresh-faced innocent who arrives there. Either way, Meyer comes off poorly.

There are youthful indiscretions and there are malicious acts. You don’t learn from the latter. They are obviously wrong to anyone with a moral barometer. Urban Meyer isn’t teaching Rainey a lesson. He’s keeping him out long enough to satisfy the media. With their second SEC loss, the cost of keeping Chris Rainey off the field outweighed the PR benefit.

The sad thing is Meyer’s cynicism is the appropriate attitude in college football. No one besides Gregg Doyel cares how Florida wins as long as they win. Cam Newton stole a laptop. His punishment was sitting out from D-I for a year and becoming a Heisman candidate at another school.

Football players aren’t necessarily bad guys, but bad guys who play college football get away with it. Urban Meyer will be ripped for playing Rainey, but far less than if he lost to Mississippi State. His crime is pretending to have values.

Point the Finger at Yourself, LeBron

This is by Jason Whitlock. I love Jason Whitlock:

Send this column to LeBron James’ black enablers and sycophants, the men and women circling the racial wagons around King James in hopes of being invited to his South Beach parties, the men and women determined to cripple LeBron the way they once crippled Michael Vick.

LeBron James is not an innovator.

He is not the first athlete to create a business and give jobs to his unqualified friends.

Deion Sanders jumped from Super Bowl contender to Super Bowl contender.

Magic Johnson fired Paul Westhead.

Curt Flood and Oscar Robertson are the fathers of free agency.

Please, let’s stop with all the nonsense that white folks are uncomfortable with LeBron because he’s “taken control of his career.”

Give me a &*%$ing break. The rationalization is as tired and lame as listening to Limbaugh defenders claim his black call screener is proof Rush is free of bias.

With his self-aggrandizing, narcissistic one-hour TV exit – The Decision – LeBron James ruined his public image, not racism. LeBron inflicted more damage to his image Wednesday night when he told CNN’s Soledad O’Brien that race is a factor in the public backlash against him since The Decision.

In an attempt to justify his asinine statement and gain favor with The King, LeBron’s enablers launched a counter offensive. Rather than deal with the real catalyst for the LeBron backlash – The Decision – we heard talk about how troubled some white folks were by LeBron deciding on his own to take his talents to South Beach.

Are you kidding me? Shaquille O’Neal has played for damn near half the NBA. Shaq bolted Orlando and took his talents to Hollywood without turning off most of America.

Quiet down.

LeBron James can't talk his way into popularity again. Mark Kriegel's advice is just shut up.

LeBron’s exit was disgraceful. It pissed people off. It painted LeBron as an uncaring boob. I’m sure that some bigots used The Decision as an excuse to air racist comments toward LeBron on Twitter or through e-mail.

No doubt, bigots – of any color – don’t need much of an excuse to flash their stupidity. But that doesn’t mean the backlash against LeBron is racist.

The truth is, LeBron James and his kiddie corps of handlers are no threat to the power structure. None.

They’re not Muhammad Ali and Elijah Muhammad telling the government the Viet Cong never called me nigger. They’re not John Carlos and Tommie Smith raising black fists on the medal stand. Hell, they’re not Barry Bonds chasing down Babe Ruth’s greatest-slugger-of-all-time legacy.

LeBron James and his business partner/friend Maverick Carter are two spoiled kids, drunk on fame and privilege and clueless about how to maximize and utilize the power they have.

I’m speculating, but my hunch is many white folks feel sorry for James. They wish he’d open his mind to mature advice. They hope The Decision isn’t an indication James is going to have a Kobe Bryant-, Lindsay Lohan-, Tiger Woods-child-celebrity fall from grace.

LeBron’s enablers are providing him the racial cocoon of denial. They’re giving LeBron an excuse to avoid dealing with his own bad (The) Decision.

Racism exists. It touches the lives of millionaire black athletes, too. I was at ground zero when it was fashionable for the national white media (and the public) to pretend that Barry Bonds invented steroids. I was one of the first journalists to call out the Duke lacrosse prosecutor for succumbing to the black racism that tried to lynch white college kids on the word of a black hooker.

I don’t leave home without my race card. I hate it when people throw it around to cover their shortcomings.

On Thursday, LeBron told ESPN’s Rachel Nichols that people were looking too deep into his CNN comments, but he stands by what he (and Maverick Carter) said. He’s playing the race-is-a-factor-in-everything card, which is true. But that’s not what he and Carter implied on CNN. They implied that people have a problem with James and his handling of his free-agency situation because his skin is black.

Outside of Cleveland, no one cares or cared that LeBron left. No one could understand why he left in such a classless manner. It’s not like he claimed that Cavs owner Dan Gilbert did him dirty behind the scenes or Cleveland fans mistreated his family the entire time he represented the city.

LeBron pissed on Cleveland because he could and because he apparently doesn’t know any better. Well, people don’t like self-absorbed bullies. So America is taking a dump on LeBron.

Claiming racism might win LeBron the respect of Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton and the folks at ESPN who concocted and participated in The Decision, but all it does in the rest of America is once again illustrate that Team James is in over its head.

LeBron blew a perfect opportunity to say, “Man, I screwed up the way I left Cleveland, and I regret the animosity it created. It’s a mistake I’ve learned from.”

Maverick Carter half-heartedly acknowledged this when he said “the execution could’ve been better.”

Just admit you were dead wrong and apologize. The people unwilling to accept your apology and move on are the people who have a problem with your skin color.

The rest of us are just tired of seeing athletes do dumb (stuff).

Montserrat's Ohio Tour Schedule

Here's the schedule for the Montserrat National Team while they're in Ohio. Hope everone gets a chance to meet these guys. Everyone who donated in any way is invited to the Hog Roast at my house on the 24th. Oh, and you can click on the photos for a better look.

Wednesday, 10/20
Arrival in Columbus

Thursday, 10/21

8:00 AM: Breakfast @ Hotel

10:00 AM: Practice @ Triple Crown Sports

1:00 PM: Cookout @ Ralph & Kathryn Shoemaker's

6:00 PM: Piketon Open Gym/Workout

8:30 PM: Piketon Dinner

Friday, 10/22

7:30 AM: Breakfast @ Hotel

9:30 AM: Exhibition/Presentation/Q & A Assembly @ Paint Valley MS

1:00 PM: Practice @ Triple Crown Sports

4:00 PM: Tour of Ohio Christian University, Pre-Game Meal

7:00 PM: Montserrat vs. Ohio Christian University

Saturday, 10/23

8:00 AM: Breakfast @ Hotel

1:00 PM: Lunch @ Karen & Army Armstrong's

6:00 PM: Montserrat vs. University of Rio Grande

8:30 PM: Dinner @ Coach Anderson & Kristy’s

Sunday, 10/24

8:00 AM: Breakfast @ Hotel

2:00 PM: Montserrat vs. Ohio University-Chillicothe

6:00 PM: Hog Roast @ Marianne & Coach Shoe’s House

Monday, 10/25

8:00 AM: Breakfast @ Hotel

10:00 AM: Depart for Columbus

11:15 AM: Lunch in Columbus

1:30 PM: Meet Coach Jim Tressel and the Ohio State Buckeyes

3:00 PM: Ohio State Basketball Practice

8:00 PM: Dinner @ Lori & Canon Anderson's

Tuesday, 10/26

8:00 AM: Breakfast @ Hotel

10:00 AM: Depart for Morgantown, WV

1:00 PM: Lunch in Morgantown

3:00 PM: West Virginia Basketball Practice

10:00 PM: Dinner @ Hotel

Wednesday, 10/27

Departure

Everybody Hates LeBron

From Deadspin. com:

LeBron James's latest Q Score is out, and to no one's surprise, the country sees him as a huge bastard. That's a lot more names for his enemies list.

A little perspective: the average sports star has a 15 percent positive Q score and a 24 percent negative score. That makes sense. His team's fans like him, his team's rivals' fans hate him, and most everyone else is indifferent.

Way back during the season, LeBron was viewed positively by 24 percent of respondents, and negatively by 22. Polarizing to be sure, but generally more liked than most athletes. Well, they polled people again. And it's clear he didn't make many fans outside of Miami by going to the Heat.

Just 14 percent of the general population has a favorable impression of LeBron James, compared with 39 percent who think he's a big selfish jerk who drove a stake through the heart of Cleveland. (My words, not the poll's.)

That's bad. He's the sixth most hated athlete in the country, behind Michael Vick, Tiger Woods, Terrell Owens, Chad Ochocinco and Kobe Bryant. Most impressively, James didn't earn his infamy by committing some horrible transgression, like killing dogs, breaking up a marriage, or starring on a VH1 show.

This won't be a wakeup call. We already know LeBron has reached a level of fame and fortune to be able to dismiss any criticism as haters hating. And you know someone from his circle is going to show him these stats, and tell him that seven percent more Americans have an opinion about him since The Decision. And in the world of marketing, that's probably the most important number.

Random Notes: Pennant Race vs. Kickoff 2010?

Ahhh...the dog days of summer are upon us. The kids are back in school. The pool out back looks like shit. Pennant races are shaping up. Marching bands are cranking it up on Friday nights again. Tiger Woods shot a round under 70. The U.S. Open allegedly will be played next week in Flushing. Brett Favre has blessed us with his presence once again....

* Usually, for Reds fans, this means shutting down your veterans & calling up AAA wanna-bees, starting the debate on who'll be in the rotation next year, and starting the anointment process for the next "savior." But wait, Reds fans - the Messiah is here, and his name is Joey Votto, and he's Canadian. That's right - not only are the Reds poised to make the playoffs (4 up on STL), but Votto is also in a battle for a Triple Crown with STL's Albert Pujols. Votto-matic leads The Machine in BA, but trails slightly in HR & RBI. Should be a lot of fun to watch, and a reason for us die-hard Red's fans to give a shit in September.

* While I'm on the Reds, I just want to give a big "F-U" to ESPN's Colin Cowherd. In case you haven't heard, Cowherd has been on a month-long mission to prove why the Reds are "a fraud." Sure, they have a losing record against other division leaders. OK, fine. It's not their fault Mr. Baseball, Tony LaRussa & his Cards can't beat a AAA team like Pittsburgh or Washington. He calls out Votto as a fraud, claiming he's not in Pujol's league and benefits from the bandbox that is GABP. had Cowherd done his research he would have known that Joey hits for a better average & has a better slugging % on the road. He calls out the Reds staff, claiming the Yankees would own them in a 7-game series. OK, I'll concede a loss to C.C. Sabbathia, but Cincy stacks up everywhere else except payroll. (Don't forget, the Cuban Missile countdown to launch is on...). After all the hate mail started to pour in, Cowherd then took a shot at the whole state of OH-IO!! Not only did this douchebag call out the Reds & Votto, but he declares the Bengals, Bearcats, Musketeers, & Buckeyes also to be frauds. Cowherd also picked a fight with Paul Daugherty of The Cincinnati Enquirer, whom he called "a local hack." This one he won't win, no matter how much P90X he does...and oh, by the way there's some USC on your chin, Cowherd.

* Let's not forget the Bengals, Brown-eyes & Buckeyes are set to kick-off too. The Bengals D has looked suspect this camp, but should come around. Carson now has a bevy of receivers to pick from with T.O., Gresham, & Shipley now adorning stripes. I like this team, I really do. Same goes for my Buckeyes - anything less than a National Title will be a disappointment for me.

* The Big 10 is prepared to throw the greatest rivalry in college sports out the window. yes, Jim Delaney in all his wisdom wants to put OSU & UM in separate divisions, hoping they'll showdown in the newly-formed conference title game & make him look like a genius. Tress'll do his part, but Dick-Rod can't get out of his own way up in Ann Arbor (insert whore joke here). Listen here, Mr. Delaney...I'm going to teach you some MAC-learned geography & mathematics: you now have 12 teams. 12/2=6. 6 teams per division. Go east to west and stop at 6. Penn St, Ohio St., Michigan, Michigan St., Indiana & Purdue = Big 10 East. Northwestern, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Iowa & Nebraska = Big 10 West. he claims splitting the conference up like this would lead to competitive imbalance - I don't see it. I see right through you, man....all you see is $$$$. Given the proposed realignment, since Penn St. joined the Big 10, OSU & Michigan would only have matched up 4 times in a hypothetical championship game. If you worried about competitive imbalance, maybe your other teams should get better? Just sayin'....

* Great take by ESPN.com columnist Jeff MacGregor on the difference between Albert Haynesworth & Brett Favre right here.

* OK, speed round time....biggest sign of the Apocalypse: Pete Rose canceled a casino appearance to show up at GABP to be honored by the Reds on the anniversary of 4192, 9/11....it has been researched & reported that a guy named Tommy John was the first pitcher to undergo Stephen Strasburg surgery....an observation for Roger Clemens: you fucked up, cowboy...Randy Couture beat boxer James Toney in the first round in an MMA fight. Duhhhhhh....boxers can't punch from their backsides....Brett Favre is responsible for Percy Harvin's migraines....NASCAR drivers are pussies - yeah, I'm talking to you Kurt Bush. I'll beat you down just for looking at me, punk....Tiger Woods plays like he has carpal tunnel syndrome. Put the Jergens down & go get laid, already....what's the over/under JaMarcus Russell is wearing black & orange by season's end....I wish Joe Nuxhall were still alive.

Pryor Still Not the Prettiest Passer, but Ohio State QB Is Having a Sturdy Preseason

From www.fanhouse.com:

COLUMBUS, Ohio -- Terrelle Pryor looked bored, and because of it yours truly wasn't feeling so froggy himself on Saturday in muggy Flyover Land.

I felt like I was watching Michael Jordan try to play golf, or seeing Usain Bolt on a treadmill.

At Ohio State's final football scrimmage of the preseason, Pryor was the only starter wearing a black jersey. Which meant that if any Buckeye defender slammed into the star quarterback, he'd be thrown into the nearby Olentangy River and possibly off the team. To balance the equation, Pryor was confined to either throwing the ball or handing it off. The junior was permitted to run with the cargo, but only to avert a touch "sack."

No wonder Pryor looked like he might fall asleep between series at Ohio Stadium. Depriving him of expanded riffs with his feet is like taking a saxaphone from a jazz artist.

The success of Ohio State's offense begins with Pryor's feet, even when they don't set course for downfield. The threat they pose opens the chessboard. Ohio State's receivers, running backs and blockers are pretty good but not great. Pryor's passing, while improved, is nothing special. Nor is offensive design typically a strength at Ohio State.

What induced University of Texas coach Mack Brown to declare two years ago that a national title was a virtual certainty for Ohio State in the Pryor Era to come? Pryor's fast feet. As with the Longhorns quarterback Vince Young in the mid-2000s, it would take time, Brown said. But the feet would scare the bejeebers out of defensive coordinators.

Pryor wasn't made available for comment Saturday, which allowed Buckeyes coach Jim Tressel to convey, or perhaps invent, the quarterback's thoughts regarding the afternoon game of touch football he had just played. "I wouldn't say he loves it," Tressel said. "It's a nuisance, but he knows when the day comes and he gets to wear the normal jersey, it might be like freedom."

Mike Zimmer finds solace in coaching.

From espn.com:

CINCINNATI -- Their condo on the Ohio River is the way she left it. There's a beige couch with matching throw pillows and blanket, a style-conscious collection that strongly suggests that there's no way this place was decorated by a football coach. There's a flowery wreath on the table and a sign on the wall. It says, "There is always something to be thankful for."

Mike Zimmer clutches the remote of his large flat-screen TV, watching sports, counting the hours until training camp starts and the world rights itself. Silence is the enemy. It seeps in everywhere -- the car, the grocery store, at breakfast -- giving him too much time to think.

A few days ago, Zimmer was eating at a coffee shop down the street from his condo. He glanced at the couples, the friends sitting together, the people laughing and chitchatting. He turned to his left and spotted an old man eating breakfast alone. And then Mike Zimmer, the ultra-intense, highly sought-after defensive coordinator for the Cincinnati Bengals, thought something to himself: That's me in 30 years.

"The hardest part," Zimmer says, "is probably the loneliness, I guess."

It is Tuesday, hours before another training camp starts in Georgetown, Ky., 10 months removed from the day Zimmer left work to check on his wife, Vikki, and found her dead. And nothing is really the same. He subsists mainly on microwaved frozen meals, still refers to just about everything with a "we" and constantly texts, dotes on and worries about his daughters.

He knows it doesn't make sense that a man surrounded by 81 football players could feel alone. That he can drop F-bombs over the span of a two-hour practice but still cry over a random memory. That he can be so jangled up inside that he'll go to church, three times a week sometimes, and light candles and ask existential questions. But that's what the quiet does to you.

A buzzer goes off in the laundry room. It's time to pack, and for Zimmer to get back to his hard-charging, testosterone-oozing, 16-hour-a-day life, the life he knows, the one that gives him a semblance of peace.

They met under the backdrop of the Wasatch Mountains, two kids, seemingly opposite, converging on a jogging track at Weber State University in the early 1980s. She was a pretty, petite dancer who had the distinction of being named Miss Weber State; he was a rugged football coach from Peoria, Ill., whose toughness was forged at birth. Football was everything in the Zimmer family. His dad, Bill, played in the NFL, coached him in high school and taught him how to methodically outwork his opponents.

Football was nowhere on Vikki's list of interests. She didn't know what a draw play was, and didn't exactly care. But it was clear, early on, that Zimmer was smitten. The couple was at a party once with Mike Price, who was then the head coach at Weber State, and Price's son turned to his dad and told him, in a conversation later relayed to Zimmer: "This is the one. You can tell how he's acting. That's the one he's going to marry."

Within a year, they were married, thrusting the young ballerina who once played the lead role in "The Nutcracker" into the world of a coach's wife. To this day, Zimmer jokes, he doesn't know what Vikki saw in him. But to everyone else around them, it was clear they were the perfect match. Vikki smoothed out Zim's rough edges. She kept him balanced.

Jack Tatum's Last Interview. A must-read for any Buckeye fan.

BY ADRIAN WOJNAROWSKI (2003)

SAN DIEGO — Some day, Jack Tatum had to tell his son the story of the most infamous hit in National Football League history. “I knew it was coming,” he said. Three years ago, it did. Lewis Tatum walked into the house. The kids at school had been talking about Darryl Stingley. Now, he wanted to hear for himself: Why had his father paralyzed a man?

They used to call him Assassin, but now they call him Dad. Tatum hadn’t met his wife, Denise, until his professional football career was over in 1980. She and the children — Jestyn, 15, and Lewis, 13 — had never watched Tatum play a down of football. Especially the kids, they just knew him as the man who was there every day in retirement, packing lunches, driving to swimming and soccer practices, and reading bedtime stories.

Yet, if Tatum wasn’t obsessed with the rest of the world understanding his truth, he was with his own son. “I told him that you never intentionally try to hurt someone,” Tatum said. “That what happened was an accident. What matters is what kind of father I am, what kind of husband I am to my wife. If someone can tell you that your dad was a dirty player, you can go back and watch some of the films and see what kind of football player he was.”

Jack Tatum stopped trying to tell the rest of the world a long time ago. It’s no use. Almost 25 years ago, with a preseason hit on the New England Patriots star, Stingley, with four words on a book jacket — “They Call Me Assassin” — most of America had its case to consider an All-American out of Passaic as a cold, unfeeling monster.

“I’m not going to beg forgiveness,” Tatum said. “That’s what people say: You never apologized. I didn’t apologize for the play. That was football. I was sorry that he got hurt. But to go out and apologize for the way I played football? That is never going to happen.

“I never did anything wrong. I apologized for the result. It was portrayed that I did something wrong — by the NFL, by papers - because that’s what they were fed. Even today, people still think I’m a bad guy.

“My only question is this: What did I do wrong?”

Tatum, 53, let his question hang in the air Friday night. He was sitting in the lobby of the Barona Casino and Resort on Friday night, about 40 minutes beyond a wild night in downtown San Diego for Super Bowl XXXVII. He had come for a golf tournament with a couple of old teammates, but couldn’t be found on an end-to-end walk of the casino floor. Grab a house phone, connect to his room, and Tatum could be found talking to his family on the phone. It was 9:30 p.m., and he had called it a night.

“I’m not a gambling man,” Tatum said downstairs, settling into a chair for something he so reluctantly and rarely does: Tell his story. The white streaks peel back through his long parted hair, tumbling down into his bushy Fu Manchu. He is still lean and taut. He still has presence. His Super Bowl XI ring glistens on his hand, the Raiders’ 32-14 victory over Minnesota punctuated with Tatum hitting Sammy White so hard, White’s helmet popped off.

Nobody remembers it. Nobody remembers his three All-AFC selections between 1971 and 1979 as a Raiders’ safety. They remember Aug. 12, 1978, a preseason game when Stingley turned toward Tatum on a slant pattern. The pass was incomplete, but Tatum stayed on course and jarred Stingley in the spine.

Tatum still sees Stingley laying on the Oakland Coliseum grass, still expects to see him stand up. Only, it will never happen. Stingley is a paraplegic, confined to a wheelchair and a life believing that Tatum isn’t just remorseless over the hit, but coldly profited with his best-selling book, “They Call Me Assassin.” This will be the 25th anniversary of the hit in 2003, inspiring people to bring the story back to life and try to make sense of this unresolved element of the story:

Jack Tatum still has never spoken to Darryl Stingley.

Tatum insists he tried years ago.

Stingley says Tatum never did.

“I made some attempts but it seems people around Darryl thwarted that,” Tatum said. “It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen. You can’t keep banging your head against the wall.”

If it never does, Tatum has learned to live with it. So has Stingley, who no longer does interviews on the issue.

Tatum wasn’t just the NFL’s most feared hitter, but an exacting student of his craft. He was a great cover man, voted one of the 25 best college football players in history for his time at Ohio State, where he moved between safety, linebacker, and corner. Tatum isn’t sure anyone remembers it. Or even cares anymore. All they ever heard was this: He paralyzed a man and sold 1.2 million books bragging about it.

“They thought that I was crowing about hurting Stingley,” Tatum said. “I had to go back after the book was finished and add that chapter, because it happened after the book was finished. He was barely in that book.”

Tatum has never confessed to this, but the hit on Stingley changed him on the football field. He stopped hitting in 1978. Naturally, he was scared of hurting someone else. He never told people, because this could’ve cost him his edge on the field. Yet eventually, Wendell Tyler of the Rams ran him over late in the season. He was a small back, but “I stopped short and didn’t make the big hit,” Tatum said. His older brother, Manuel, had watched it on television. He called Jack and told him, “If you’re not going to play, get your ass off the field.”

He started hitting again, because nobody in football hit like Jack Tatum. Even now, he confessed: “If you were a little afraid, I wanted you to be a lot afraid. If you weren’t afraid at all, I wanted to try to make you afraid.”

He talked this way years ago, and talks this way now. People hate to hear it, but it was the truth. Jack Tatum was a Raider. He was the hardest-hitting safety in the NFL. That’s who he was, that’s who he’ll always be. What it’s cost him, it’s cost him. After his retirement, Tatum wanted to be a football coach, just like his beloved second father at Ohio State, Woody Hayes. He didn’t want to work in the NFL, but college. How about that: Jack Tatum wanted to be Woody Hayes.

“You could teach there,” Tatum said. “You could have a bigger role in the lives of kids. Guys who go to the pros are million-dollar ballplayers. A lot of them don’t have fundamentals, but how are you going to tell a million-dollar guy that he can’t tackle? Or that he’s got to do it this way? I wouldn’t be a good NFL coach.”

So, Tatum started to touch base with old friends in college coaching, checking on even the lowest level of assistant jobs. All of them told him that he would make a good coach, “but told me that they couldn’t afford me in the program,” Tatum said.

“I was blackballed. It’s nothing that I did, but what I was perceived to have done. But then, I started to think that maybe I didn’t want to coach. If I was coaching and a kid got hurt, it would be because I was coaching him. That’s all people would say: I taught someone to do that.”

Nobody can believe his job now: He’s a paid employee of the National Football League’s so-called “Fashion Police.” On appointment by Al Davis, Tatum works the Raiders’ sidelines on Sunday, instructing shirts to be tucked and sneaker logos covered. “I don’t know if the NFL was too happy about it,” he said, “but Al Davis wanted a guy the players would respect.

“I don’t agree with all the rules, but I enforce them.”

It isn’t just the fashion that bothers him, but rules on contact. “They’re trying to make it safer, but this is a violent game. They’re teaching tackling wrong now.”

His son isn’t a football player, which is fine with the father, who understands football is a dangerous game and people get hurt. Denise Tatum was on the telephone Saturday night, a wife who met her husband weeks after his football career ended in 1980 and said: “I never fell in love with a football player. I fell in love with Jack.” She was telling the story of him “changing far more diapers than I ever did,” staying home with the kids, of him spending five years of mornings and afternoons feeding and caring for her father afflicted with Alzheimer’s.

“He’s the most kindhearted man I’ve ever known, the absolute best dad on the planet,” Denise said. “It’s hurtful to hear what people say about [Jack] and [Stingley]. He did hurt over it. He did. He tried to reach out and do the right thing, but he was turned away. It was an accident, what happened. But he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Apologize?” She stopped for a second and took a deep breath. The 25th anniversary is on the way, the story of Jack Tatum and Darryl Stingley starting all over again.

Finally, she said, “My husband is never going to apologize.”

Hope Springs Eternal in "Brownstown"

Anyone who honestly thought one year ago that in July of 2010, the Cleveland Browns would be the best professional sports team in Cleveland, please stand. (Come on don’t be shy…just jump right up. Go ahead and brag about how right you were. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?...)

With rookie training camp underway, the veterans due in later this week, and the first preseason game less than three weeks away, this seems like the right time to start thinking about football and stop thinking about that number 23 basketball player guy.

Looking back, 2009 was a tale of two seasons for the Browns. The first twelve games of the season brought talk of how historically bad this team might be. Save for a 6-3 win in Buffalo in one of the ugliest games in the history of organized football, the Brownies didn’t win a single game. Granted, it took an overtime field goal by the Bengals and a last play fluke penalty in Detroit to get there, but the Browns limped into week 13 with a 1-11 record. There was serious talk of 1-15 and the number one pick in the draft (again). Beleaguered first year head coach Eric Mangini was on the hot seat. The only thing to be truly excited about in Cleveland was across town at Quicken Loans Arena.

Then, against the most unlikely of foes, everything changed.

I was fortunate (some said unfortunate at the time) enough to have tickets to the Browns/Steelers game on Thursday December 10^th, 2009. I bought these tickets in August in the foolish hope that the Browns would be fighting for their playoff lives and control of the AFC North against their hated rivals. I am a life long Browns fan who had been to many games to that point, but had never been to a Pittsburgh game.

An injury riddled Pittsburgh team was still in the playoff hunt, and a win against the hapless Browns would obviously improve their chances of defending their Super Bowl title. The Browns were decimated by injuries as well, and most people were expecting them to simply be playing out the string to bring another hugely disappointing season to a merciful end. Eric Mangini’s job was in peril, there was no general manager, and Mike Holmgren had not yet been hired, and everything was seemingly headed in exactly the wrong direction. On top of all of that, the Browns had lost to the Steelers 12 consecutive times, the Browns were near the bottom of nearly every statistical category in the league, and Brady Quinn was the starting quarterback. There was absolutely no rational reason to believe that the Browns were going to win this game.

But as I stood in “the pit”, a parking lot adjacent to Cleveland Browns Stadium, drinking a slushy beer and half frozen bratwurst, none of that mattered. The Steelers were in town, and maybe this team could summon up the intestinal fortitude to do the unthinkable. The game time wind chill was -12. The foam in our beer was freezing in the neck of the bottle. We were building fires in the parking lot to try to stay warm. It was beautiful. It was fun. It was everything that a Browns home game in December was supposed to be.

Behind 8 sacks of Ben Roethlisberger, and 200 all purpose yards from Josh Cribbs, the Browns exorcised their demons and beat their hated rivals. The team with nothing to play for except pride defeated the team with everything to play for. Walking out of that stadium and hearing the chants of “Pittsburgh Sucks” and “Here we go Brownies” was a memory I will never forget. Records didn’t matter. For a brief shining moment, all was right in Cleveland. The Steelers had been vanquished, and no amount of cold, wind, or snow could take that away. I saw the soul of Cleveland sports that night, and it had nothing to do with any narcissistic, egocentric basketball player. That number 23 basketball player guy was never the face of this city, no matter how big the banner hanging across from Quicken Loans Arena was.

Oh, yeah. And the Browns haven’t lost since. Behind a renewed sense of purpose, a suddenly competent defense, and (gasp!) a running game, the Browns closed the season with three more wins and a lot of momentum heading into 2010.

I always had a good laugh whenever I heard people contend that with the success of the Cavs over the past few years, Cleveland was in danger of becoming a “Cavs town”, and that the Browns were soon to be an afterthought in Cleveland sports. I read several blog articles to this effect. I remember laughing whenever I would read these articles, because whoever thought that any team could displace the Browns in the hearts of Clevelanders doesn’t know Cleveland, and doesn’t know Browns fans. The Cavs and the Indians will always play second fiddle to the Browns in Cleveland, and if the Browns somehow find themselves in the playoff hunt come December, “LeBron who?” will be a common refrain across the city.

It is with this backdrop that the eternal optimist in me looks forward to another season of Cleveland Browns football. In the coming weeks I am hoping to write a series of articles dealing with the offense, defense, special teams, coaching, and schedule for your 2010 Cleveland Browns.

Cleveland is a football town. Cleveland was, is and always will be “Brownstown”. Anyone who believes otherwise is kidding themselves.

Oh, and one final note: The Browns close the season at home on January 3^rd…against none other than the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Cleveland in January? There’s no place I’d rather be.

7 Types of People You See on the Jumbotron

More from the cats over at Guyism. Good stuff:

If you’ve ever been to a sporting event of any kind you’ve probably noticed a oversized TV hanging from the rafters or placed dead center of a scoreboard. What you’re looking at is the JumboTron. It’s great for watching replays so you can justify your hatred for the ref that just blew an obvious call. But more than that, the screen is a great place to catch all sorts of people.

7 The Attention Whore

This person will begin flailing their arms to get the attention of the camera, and then continue making a fool of his or her self once on screen. When they see someone near them on the JumboTron they make a convincing effort to steal the focus of the camera. If they know the person near them, they’ll do the “bunny ears” technique, which somehow has not died off, nor has escaped this person’s imagination despite probably being thirty.

6 The Dancer

Have you ever been to a sporting event and, during a timeout, witnessed an event commonly known as “Dance Cam?” You know, where the people make fools out of themselves by shaking whatever it may be that their respective mothers gave them. Generally this is not a pretty sight, but it can really go either way when the camera captures a member of this group. Regardless if it is time for some dance related event, this type of person is constantly strutting, shimmying, twisting, bopping, or in some cases even boogying down.

5 The Sideline Celebrity

Having a big name in the building at a major sporting event is bound to garner attention. One should expect to see the celebrity on the big screen at least once during the course of the game. But this can become a little tricky. For instance, what do you do when the biggest “celebrity” at the game is some local politician? Sure, he proposed Ordinance 943.2 to eliminate unfair taxes on imported strawberries from a bordering county, but that’s the short term. With celebrities you need to think staying power.

4 The Awkward Waver

This person didn’t want to be on the JumboTron, but now they are and they’re just going to wave until they aren’t any longer. This is also the person that if they are in the shot of the JumboTron when it is focused on someone else, they act as if they are having a conversation or doing something on their phone even if they know they’re on camera.

3 The Duck-and-Hider

A shyer version of the “Awkward Waver.” The duck-and-hider will do anything to avoid being on the JumboTron. As it turns out, this is usually a great way to draw more attention to you. If the cameraman has a sense of humor they follow this person and show them multiple times over the course of the game.

2 The Proposal Maker

There is a lot of fun to be had with this guy (or very, very brave girl. You’ve got to have confidence to be in this category. Not only do you need the balls to speak in front of a huge audience, you better be confident you’re going to get the answer you want. There are few things worse than the image of you failing at one of the most important moments of your life on a fifty-foot screen built specifically to replay memorable events over and over.

1. The Couple

Are couples at games ever not awkward? Especially with Kiss Cam. When it comes on here’s a breakdown of what happens: the guy draws attention to the two of them so he can slip her the tongue on the JumboTron. She hides her face in her hands as if it was some sort of mask that made her boyfriend not act like a tool (Side note: Kiss Cam is the reason you should not go to a game of any sort with a relative of the opposite gender. Prepare for awkwardness). There’s nothing is better than a guy going in for a kiss on the JumboTron and his partner denying him completely. You know they fight about it the rest of the night too. You may say that I’m just bitter and to that I say, “You’re right.”

West Virginia Top Academic Team

MORGANTOWN, W.VA. – Not only was West Virginia the top dog in the Big East Conference, but the Mountaineers were also the top academic team as well.

Today, the Big East announced the 25 teams that have been recognized with the 2009-10 Team Academic Excellence Awards, recognizing the highest collective grade-point averages in each conference sport and Coach Bob Huggins’ Mountaineers finished the highest among all men’s basketball schools.

The winners were chosen based on the 2009-10 grade-point average of each student-athlete who appears on an institution’s squad list as the last contest of the championship segment in each conference-sponsored sport.

WVU seniors Da’Sean Butler, Wellington Smith and Jonnie West recently earned their degrees, while Joe Mazzulla and Cam Thoroughman are currently enrolled in graduate school.

West Virginia won a school record 31 games on the way to making its first Final Four appearance in 51 years in 2010. The Mountaineers also captured their first-ever Big East tournament championship with their 60-58 victory over Georgetown.

Eleven Big East schools had at least one team recognized by the conference, with Providence finishing with a conference-best five teams recognized. DePaul and Syracuse had four teams recognized, while Cincinnati, Louisville, Notre Dame and St. John’s had two each. Georgetown, Rutgers, USF and West Virginia all had single teams represented.

ESPN Green-Lights "The Decision" for 22 More Episodes.

The folks over at Onion Sports are at it again:

BRISTOL, CT—ESPN President George Bodenheimer announced Wednesday that the hour-long program The Decision, a melodrama about NBA superstar LeBron James declaring his intention to join the Miami Heat, has been green-lighted for an additional 22 episodes. "The pilot episode was obviously very gripping, as nearly 10 million people tuned in, but the series is going to have an expanded cast of characters and mostly take place on South Beach," Bodenheimer said. "Viewers will be captivated by how the decision affects LeBron as well as by a number of new decisions he'll have to make every week, like whether or not to save a drowning fan, apply suntan lotion to David Stern's back, or let one of his teammates chase down a loose ball. And don't worry, just like in the original, each episode will feature an hour of LeBron sitting on his stool and answering questions posed by a different guest star." Bodenheimer, who called The Decision daring and innovative, confirmed that either Chris Bosh or Dwyane Wade will likely be killed off in the season finale.

7 types of guys that ruin pick-up sports.

More from http://guyism.com/:

A lot of men like to exercise and take care of themselves as they get older but we sometimes don’t have the time to join rec leagues and YMCA tournaments. So we usually just grab some buddies and head down to the local gym or field to get some much needed exercise. This can usually be a lot of fun depending on how serious the people you play with take their pick-up games. Usually everyone is there to have some fun and maybe burn a little testosterone, but there are always those folks that take these games far too seriously. These are a few of the guys that ruin pick-up games.

7 The guy that always calls a foul in basketball.

There is always one guy (usually the most unathletic) that will call fouls like Tim Donaghy during a play-off game he had money on. Every ticky-tack slap on the wrist and body foul get called as if his life depended on it. When he does actually get fouled he awkwardly falls to the ground and flails like Paul Pierce engulfed in flames. He ruins the flow of the game and usually ends up getting one really hard foul that is meant to remind him that he is ruining the fun for everyone else.

6 The guy that always talks shit.

Yeah, he has got something to say; so much so that the muscle he’s most likely to pull out on the field/court is in his jaw. He’s got game and he is going to tell you all about it. Gives the play-by-play like Marv Albert without (hopefully) all the biting. If he and Terrell Owens got into a shouting match, the only winners would be the deaf. He and Ron Artest would only be able to play “H.O.A.R.S.E.” together. He just never stops telling you everything that’s about to happen and it just gets annoying. Even if you’re winning, he’s usually complaining about something. If you win you can talk, but until then just shut your mouth and play ball.

5 The guy that brushes people back from the plate.

Really? I’d expect Roger Clemens to brush back his kid at a father/daughter game, but during a church picnic or pick-up game? Seriously? Sure, it’s funny if it’s one of your buddies and it’s meant jokingly, aside from that, it is simply uncalled for. This is supposed to be fun, people. Unless he hit a home run off of you last at-bat and stared majestically into the stands as it sailed over the fence, while pumping his fist and pointing. Because if that’s the case, then fire away Nolan. Otherwise, it’s best to keep the bean balls and ensuing fistfights for the parking lot after the game.

4 The sweaty guy.

That scene from Along Came Polly with Ben Stiller pretty much says it all.

3 The guy that wears his shorts too low.

I understand wanting to get your money’s worth when it comes to the elastic band on your Nike shorts, but when you have to play defense with one hand holding up your shorts, you are doing it wrong. Happens more than you think too. The worst is when a someone gets by the guy like this and his shorts fall down and he trips on them in the ensuing chase. Hey, maybe if you used that drawstring we’d be winning this game, droopy drawers. This is a man’s game, so save your peep show for the girlfriend later on and buy some longer shorts if this is going to continue to be a problem.

2 The guy that turns flag/touch football into tackle football.

I can’t really complain about this because touch football usually always ends up deteriorating into tackle football. Somebody gets a little too rough, emotions run hot and somebody ends going all Ray Lewis by taking another player down hard. It just sort of naturally happens when male testosterone and pride levels peak while playing football. It’s why we play in the first place. So just be cool and don’t let it escalate into some huge issue that ruins the game.

1 The guy that takes it all too seriously.

Who will protect this house? This dude will. He will lace up the sneakers that he claims takes half a second off his 40 time. Has the entire Nike breakaway suit that he‘ll dramatically tear-off dramatically before the first game. He has the arm band, headband, Horace Grant goggles–the whole nine yards. Hell, he may even wear one of those watches that doubles as a heart monitor (which he’ll check every 30 seconds). This guy will bark plays like he’s Mike Ditka and scold his teammates like Kobe during a TV timeout. This is life for this guy. He has all the issues stated above, except it’s magnified by his unrelenting douchiness. I think the great Jack Byrnes said it best in Meet the Parents when he said, “Jesus, Focker. It’s just a game!”

Miami Thrice? Who's The Pivot Man?

Yeah, I watched the ESPN special, and I do feel violated. I'd already had a growing hatred for Chris Broussard & Tim Legler in the weeks leading up to this fiasco - I feel so sorry for Jon Barry. Now, I turn the channel whenever they come on my TV. Thank God for NBA TV and its access to "real" talent like Charles Barkley, Reggie Miller, & Eric Snow - I'll even forgive the unintelligible C-Webb. The Bachelor-esque vibe, where LeBron figuratively gives Riles his rose (and the finger to the whole state of Ohio) was at best, cheesy. Why the need to validate at the end by bringing in the Boys & Girls Club charity thing? Instead of teaching values like loyalty & family, you teach these kids that succumbing to peer pressure & going with the crowd is the cool thing? Anyway, fuck you LeBron, fuck you Miami, fuck you Wade & Bosh, fuck you Pat Riley, & fuck you ESPN. You're free to go suck-off Brett Favre now. But I digress, on to basketball-related observations....

1. So who takes the last shot in Miami? You're damn right....D-Wade. It's his team, Bosh & James are guests & always will be. Plus, LeBron's always passed on that shot anyway.
2. Who are the role players? The Heat only have 4 players under contract I think since they had to trade former #1 pick Michael Beasley for a #2 pick, just to clear cap room for The Thrice. There's a SG spot open for ya, Tim Legler...
3. The Cavs are calling James a "quitter" now that he's gone, much as I'm sure everyone in Cleveland was muttering under their breath during the playoff beat down by the Celtics. You wanna talk about a scorned lover: try Cavs owner Dan Gilbert.
4. The Legacy? The Brand? See ya. James would have been immortal in Cleveland. Now he's every bit as infamous as Art Modell. No statues outside The Q. No more "Witness" billboards. BTW...Jim Brown is looking for your ass.
5. This move instantly validates Kobe Bryant in the history books as "The Man," post-Jordan. Kobe has won 2 straight NBA titles without Shaq, just less than a month removed from hoisting the trophy for a 5th time. You know Kobe was sitting at home watching all this free-agent bullshit going down, just seething. God have mercy on the Heat should they be fortunate enough to meet L.A. in the finals next year.
6. Are the Heat even the best in the East? All these jack-offs on TV & on the radio are anointing this crew as the best in the Conference already...even though as previously mentioned they don't even have enough players to field a team yet. Please. Boston, Orlando, Chicago, Atlanta. Miami ain't getting through that.
7. The Cavs can still be a good team. Mo, Jamison, Varejao...this core can play a little, especially now that they don't have to defer to King James. It's crucial that the Cavs bring in a gritty, "glue" guy to replace #23, and if they do I like Byron Scott getting the most out of this team. Keep an eye on J.J. Hickson....I'm just sayin'.

Neers Sign Minnesota's 2010 Mr. Basketball

MORGANTOWN, W.Va. – Kevin Noreen, who was named Minnesota’s Mr. Basketball for 2010, has signed a grant-in-aid to attend West Virginia University in 2010-11 and play basketball for the Mountaineers, coach Bob Huggins announced today.


“We are really excited about getting a player of Kevin’s caliber this late in the process,” says Huggins. “Kevin is a multi-skilled player who will fit in our system extremely well. With our abundance of physical low post players, Kevin’s skill set should prove very valuable for our team’s future.”

Noreen is a 6-foot-10, 220-pound forward from Minneapolis, where he attended Minnesota Transitions Charter School. As a senior, he averaged 38.6 points, 16.5 rebounds, 5.9 assists, 3.9 steals and 3.2 blocks per game for coach John Sherman.

Noreen guided his team to the 2010 Class A state championship, scoring 24 points with 15 rebounds and nine blocks against Sebeka in the state title contest. For his efforts, he was named to the all-state tournament team. He also had games of 22 points, 22 rebounds against Cass Lake-Bena and 17 points and 11 rebounds against Rushford-Peterson during the state playoffs.

He is the all-time scoring leader in Minnesota high school history, scoring 4,086 career points. As a senior, Noreen had 14 games of more than 40 points, including seven when he scored 50 or more points. He had 1,205 points last year, his third straight 1,000-point season.

Noreen earned first team all-state honors as a senior and second-team honors as a junior. As a senior, he was named the Minneapolis Star-Tribune Player of the Year.

As a junior, Noreen averaged 32.8 points, 12.4 rebounds, 5.5 steals and 4.8 assists while shooting 66 percent from the field. He played AAU basketball for the Minnesota Pump N Run.

Noreen joins Noah Cottrill (Logan High, Logan, W.Va.), David Nyarsuk (Mountain State Academy, Beckley, W.Va., native of Juba, Sudan) and Darrious Curry (Stratford High, Houston, Texas) as signees for the 2010-11 season