Saturday, December 2:
PASADENA, CA -- That's why they play the game. For a whole week, since USC hammered Notre Dame, people in Los Angeles have been mulling over how the Trojans would approach the national championship game January 8th against Ohio State. Except USC won't be there. They overlooked UCLA and were stunned 13-9 today at the Rose Bowl. Don't think the Bruins didn't notice. The USC game is their Super Bowl, the battle for L.A. bragging rights, and for the ongoing recruitment battle in southern California. So now, it's Ohio State against Florida or Michigan. Glad I don't have to determine which team gets in against the Buckeyes.
Another example of the youth of America and how wonderful it is: After the game, I spent 90 frustrating minutes trying to locate the rental car that I parked on a golf course north of the Rose Bowl. Like an old fool, I failed to take into account that all of the landmarks I promised to remember on the long walk to the game were invisible in the dark. Making matters worse, the temperature in the valley of the San Gabriel mountains had plummeted and I was wearing a light short-sleeve shirt. Did I mention that I'm an old fool? Well, in my travels, I had at least half-a-dozen invitations from post-game tailgate partyers, offering free food, beer and a place to sit and cool my heels. One group even dispatched two USC co-ed's to help me find my car and they helped me search for 20 fruitless minutes. But they knew the golf course better than I did and after listening to my landmark descriptions, they pointed me in the right direction. I can't thank them -- one and all -- enough. And half of the people who offered to help were Trojan fans, who were crushed by their team's stunning loss. An astonishing display of kindness.
Tuesday, December 5:
The plunging temperature Saturday in Pasadena took its toll. By the time I got back to my hotel I was shaking like a leaf, down with a fever that's had me sidelined ever since. So, that's why the USC-UCLA update, the picture of the week and the blog updates are late.
So Florida gets the national championship bid against Ohio State and Michigan gets shut out. I'm a Wolverines fan but I think both teams had legitimate claims to the title game against Ohio State. What I don't like is the shameless whining and bleating that came out of Gainesville. Gators coach Urban Meyer was, in the words of the immortal Chuck Berry, "campaign' shoutin' like a southern diplomat." Even the university president got into the act. Kudos to Michigan coach Lloyd Carr who took the high road and refrained from taking part in the political poop. Ohio State is the big winner. There's no question in my mind that Michigan is superior to Florida. The Buckeyes should roll past the Gators with ease.
So the system is broken -- again. The BCS has caused more problems than it has fixed in its nine years. U.S. college football either needs to go to a playoff system or go back to the old days with two major polls and traditional bowl match-ups. Maybe that didn't work in 1997. But it sure doesn't work now.
Thursday, December 7:
Finally back on my feet again. Wow. That was some nasty bug I brought home with me. A bit of food poisoning, according to Ol' Doc Sawbones, who gave me a powerful sleeping pill to swallow Tuesday night. Was it ever! I slept for 16 hours and yesterday (after I woke up) I started feeling like myself again.
A couple of lingering memories from San Diego. They've strung holiday lights like bunting along the railings of the downtown I-5 overpasses. Very cool and festive. And there's one shopping mall I visited that takes advantage of the region's incredible weather -- the walkways are all open to the elements.
I hate seeing beautiful homes neglected. Walking around the Berkeley neighbourhood that my motel was located in, I discovered what was surely once a beautiful, white Victorian-age home on 5th Street. And it was a complete wreck. It looked as if it would collapse like a house of cards at the first stiff breeze.
Saturday, December 9:
My friend Don always insists that it "ain't Christmas 'til der Bingle sings." Well, I heard Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" on a California radio station last month, so no worries there. In fact I've heard most of the oldies radio holiday standards already. The only ones I haven't caught yet are "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree," "Snoopy's Christmas," and "Little Saint Nick." I'm sure it's just a matter of time.
It was fun to pass a slimmed-down Kezar Stadium on my way to Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco last month. Just for fun, I snapped a few pics of what is now a community park, featuring soccer and high school football. The page on the old home of the 49ers now features "before-and-after" shots. Check it out in the "what's new" section!
Also new are photos of a now-completed Stanford Stadium. But just like in June, there was no way to sneak a peek in to take interior pics. So sadly, the updated page looks a lot like the previous one -- without the construction cranes.
Sunday, December 10:
This is to young William in New Jersey, who is celebrating his first birthday today (William is one day old!): Remember to thank your lucky stars every day William, because you have two of the coolest people in the world as parents. Congrats, J-and-J!
Wednesday, December 13:
Sounds simple enough. Someone goes overboard and you "circle the wagons," toss a lifeline and haul 'em in. Except a tall ship isn't a motorboat, the Atlantic Ocean isn't a small lake and a "rogue wave" isn't a two-foot swell that you ride like a theme park water slide. Hope has all but faded for Bob Gainey's daughter, lost at sea. No family should have to suffer in this way. The fact that it's Gainey's, a guy who always gave well thought-out answers to every question, no matter how inane, makes it even harder to accept for anyone on the asking end over the years.
If I hear this radio spot again, I might just lose it: Seems that James Brown, the Godfather of Soul and one of my all-time favourite musical artists, is returning to a local casino near here next month. But the radio commercials are trumpeting Brown, bringing the "Motown Sound" to Casino Rama. No, no, no, a million times no. Brown is not from Detroit, he's from either Georgia or South Carolina (depending on who's telling the story). He did not record for Motown, he recorded for the King label. And if he really is doing Motown music, I don't want to see it. I want to see the hardest working man in show business do what he does best -- "doin' the James Brown!"
Caught Brenda Lee's "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" whilst shopping at a Canadian Tire yesterday. That pretty well wraps up hearing all of oldies radio's "Christmas Classics" for this season. Of course my own personal collection has music that I can't do without this time of year: the late "Tennessee" Ernie Ford's "The Star Carol." I received that album as a child and could never face a Christmas season without it.
Friday, December 15:
!!! HAPPY HANUKKAH !!!
In all my years of watching football, I've never seen a pro defence up and die like the Seattle Seahawks did in the final minutes of last night's 24-14 loss at home to San Francisco. Pathetic doesn't begin to cover it. Once they fell behind, they had no stomach for trying for force the issue. Glad I only saw it on TV. The stench of it inside the stadium must have rolled a few stomachs (particularly the one belonging to Mike Holmgren).
Monday, December 18:
The absolute funniest thing on the internet for a football fanatic is the Lions' fan forum on the Detroit News web site -- especially in the hours following a game. The Detroit Lions are arguably (although there's no argument in my mind) the worst franchise in North American professional sports. And fans have been watching terrible football from the silver and blue for 50 seasons. So when yet another game is lost, the fans unload -- and much of the vitriol is side-splitting.
You'd think I'd want to open my eyes and take in the surroundings from time to time. Driving around town the other day, I pointed out to The Bride that they'd taken out the gas pumps at the corner convenience store. "Yeah, they did that a few months ago," she replied. A few months ago?! Man, I gotta start smelling the roses one of these days.
Speaking of which, I wouldn't be surprised if roses started blooming any day now. Our front lawn is greening up as if it was late April and I was wearing a light spring jacket yesterday. We'll no doubt pay for it in January and February, but a white Christmas is very much a long shot 'round these parts.
Wednesday, December 20:
It's become clear as day that the NHL will never, ever add a seventh Canadian franchise in any way, shape or form under the stewardship of commissioner Gary Bettman. That became obvious last week when Canadian Jim Balsillie withdrew his offer to buy the Pittsburgh Penguins for $175 million U.S. There's little doubt that Balsillie was -- at the very least -- mulling over the possibility of a move to Canada for the Pens as a back-up plan, should the Isle of Capri casino fail in its bid to obtain a slot-machine license today from the state of Pennsylvania. The casino has said it will build a $290 million arena for the Penguins to replace 45-year-old Mellon Arena if its bid is successful. If it's not, then all bets are off, pardon the pun. But it seems obvious that Bettman told Balsillie not to waste any time thinking about moving the franchise north of the border should the Isle of Capri bid get rejected by the state. So Balsillie balked, and the NHL lost out on a franchise owner worth billions of dollars. Makes you wonder how low this league can fall. The U.S. television deal is virtually nonexistent. Empty seats are the order of the day in U.S. arenas. The Blackhawks are getting 11-thousand a game. The Blues are drawing nine-thousand. Red Wings' tickets are just an internet click away. Even the Anaheim Ducks, the league's best team, are marketed in a Ronco, "But wait, there's more!" kind of way. The application form for next year's John Wooden Classic, a one-day, U.S. college basketball doubleheader in Anaheim, offers free Ducks tickets for folks buying early. The NHL was once thought of as one of the four major sports in the U.S. It's now barely cult status. Kind of makes one yearn for the John Ziegler era.
Sunday, December 24:
So that's three mild earthquakes in Berkeley, California in the last four days, and folks are getting a mite nervous. Hopefully that once-glorious, now-a-wreck Victorian-age house I spotted on 5th St. south of Camelia last month is still standing. When I walked past, it looked as if a magnitude 0.1 quake would bring it down. Mind you, rubble might be easier on the eyes. And maybe they'll think twice about pouring major money into refurbishing old Memorial Stadium at the University of California. The grand old building sits right on top of the Hayward fault line.
I think Jimmy Ralph and other analysts are right about the Toronto Maple Leafs' goaltending: not bad, but not good enough. Andrew Raycroft and Jean-Sébastien Aubin have to start stealing games. Not every night out, but once in awhile. Save for last season when Ed Belfour slumped, the Leafs have had goalies pull off miracle games for more than a decade -- from Belfour, back through Curtis Joseph to Felix Potvin. Without such thievery and especially with the latest rash of injuries, Toronto is likely to miss the playoffs again.
Monday, December 25:
!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS !!!
Tuesday, December 26:
I'm getting to be an age (and in a profession) where I'm seldom shocked by someone's passing, but when I heard yesterday that James Brown had died, it was like receiving the business end of a baseball bat 'twixt the teeth. Growing up in southwestern Ontario in the shadow of Detroit, '60's soul music was standard fare, and thank God it was. It was fantastic stuff, and Brown was the best of the best. No, he wasn't from the Motor City. No, he didn't record for Motown (despite those gawd-awful Casino Rama radio ads suggesting otherwise). But he was truly the Godfather of Soul. No one came close to his moves, his style, his music. Of my personal Elite Eight favourite artists in music (James Armstrong, Brook Benton, Chuck Berry, Beverly Bivens, James Brown, Aretha Franklin, Jackie Wilson and Patsy Cline), four are now gone.
Dave Sims does a pretty nice radio play-by-play on both basketball and football and Bob Trumpy, for my money, is the best football analyst alive -- period -- but I was screaming at them both from behind the wheel of my vehicle last night, whilst driving home. After a third down play for Philadelphia deep inside Dallas territory, a Cowboys player went down and "was not moving." "Oh, this is bad," opined Sims. They went to a commercial break and when they finally came back, they said nothing about the injured player, and simply described the Eagles' successful field goal attempt. We can only assume (and hope) the player in question staged a miraculous recovery, worthy of WWE notoriety.
Thursday, December 28:
Two games, two wins for Canada's national junior hockey team at the world championship in Sweden, including a hard-fought but nail-biting 6-3 victory against the United States yesterday. Canada let a safe 3-0 lead all but evaporate as the Americans battled back to make it 3-2 and then 4-3. Tough to make a judgement from that game, as there was no flow to it. Every possible infraction was whistled down, except on the third U.S. goal when goaltender interference was somehow ignored. A year ago, Canada won with a very young team, so the experience seems to be paying off. They'll need it, playing overseas where the pressure is greater.
So who melts down first? Canada's Steve Downie or Jack Johnson of the U.S.? Both are superb players, and both are linked, thanks to Johnson's cheap-shot elbow to Downie's head in last year's tournament in Vancouver. Both showed their talent yesterday, but Downie lost his cool and took a misconduct while Johnson pinched in and was caught on a 2-on-1 that ended up in a Canadian goal and also gave up a breakaway that untimately led to another.
Friday, December 29:
Voices, part III: I know that every time I start making lists of my favourite voices (as I did a few months ago) or favourite musical artists (as I did Tuesday) I will leave someone out. As I did again. As a fan of early folk-rock, I've always thought the lead singer of The Seekers had a voice to die for. Richard Crosby wrote about her: "Her voice contains the warmth of liquid gold, the coolness of silver and the clarity of crystal." I couldn't agree more. Judith Durham's singing voice is pretty much pure perfection. Aretha Franklin, my favourite female artist, has the soul edge I love and there are some Beverly Bivens tracks that haunt me with the raw emotion she displays, but Durham's excellence shines on every songs she sings. I can't believe I forget to include her on my lists. And so the "Elite Eight" becomes the "Nifty Nine."
Sunday, December 31:
Please stay safe this New Year's Eve. And please remember that taxis, buses and friends can safely get you home if you've had a few too many sody-pops.
There have been some pretty solid college football bowl games in the past week or so. The one I'll have a keen eye on is tomorrow's Rose Bowl between USC and Michigan. Both teams are coming off bitter defeats that cost them a spot in the national championship game -- the Trojans to UCLA right in the same Rose Bowl and the Wolverines to Ohio State in Columbus. If Michigan can put the same pressure on USC quarterback John David Booty that the Bruins did four weeks ago, then I like their chances.
Manchester United has opened up a six-point lead on Chelsea in soccer's English Premiership. What's wrong with the Blues these days? They've been held to draws their last two times out and barely avoided a third saw-off the game before that. Is Stamford Bridge falling down all of a sudden?
