Live From Detroit: Teams No. 40 and No. 41

It's that time of year, people. The time I start to forsake my friends, loved ones and job for the ultimately foolish experience of carefully timed trips to see sports venues.

Yes, I know that I did already make trips to see the Philadelphia 76ers and Washington Capitals earlier this year, but this right here is my first two-fer and the first time I've actually needed to board a plane to get anywhere. Of course that plane ride started off somewhat bumpy when I found out that Spirit Airlines is actually not the deal they claim to be because they actually charge you $30 to bring a carry-on bag onto the plane. Isn't avoiding bag fees the whole reason we pack light and make carry-ons to begin with?

In any event, the trip since then has been entirely smooth as my good ol' buddy Lindsay was at DTW in no time to pick me up AND THEN WE HAD CULVERS.

So yeah. So far it's been good. The reason for all this commotion of course is that over the next three days I will be knocking two vaunted names off the list of 122 that I have not yet seen before in the Detroit Pistons and the Detroit Red Wings. I actually did see the Detroit Tigers four years ago when I was a senior in college, but even including that day trip from Chicago, I've spent almost no time in Michigan in my life so this will be something of a new experience, and considering that I had completely forgotten about Culver's being in Michigan, this is already worth the trip.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was particularly excited for Friday night's game for multiple reasons, namely a) Joe Louis Arena, the Joe, looks to be something like the Fenway Park of hockey, b) my seats are going to be awesome, c) they're playing the Blackhawks, who I always enjoy seeing, d) the Blackhawks may well be playing for their playoff lives that night.

It should be fun all around.

Of course, the basketball game comes before that, which should also be fun because the Pistons, in terms of historical significance, I find to be one of the more underrated franchises in North American sports. Their history includes names like Joe Dumars, Isiah "I'm an awful GM, but really a pretty good basketball player" Thomas, Dick Vitale and the recently Hall of Fame-inducted Dennis Rodman. You know, back before the transformation.

Of course, as the 11th-ranked team in the East that history isn't having much of an effect on the Pistons right now, nor is it on the 12th-ranked Nets whom they'll be playing tonight. But if anything, it'll probably be better basketball than we saw Monday night when the Butler Bulldogs went colder than Michigan in January in the second half of the NCAA National Championship Game. During one stretch, Butler went a stunning 1 for 22 from the field in the second half.

So yeah. That may have been the worst National Championship Game I've ever seen. Hell the women's game the next night was better. Really.

And those teams had something to play for, unlike the squads I'm seeing tonight, who will mostly be jockeying for possible Draft lottery positioning. Then again, that's something the Nets are probably used to at this point, unlike their Prudential Center co-tenants, my New Jersey Devils. The Devils played Pittsburgh last night to an eventual 4-2 loss in an utterly meaningless game as far as New Jersey was concerned. This is tough to see as a Devils fan, but considering the last time the Devils played a regular season game with nothing on the line and no playoffs to look forward to was on April 2, 1989, I suppose I can live with it. Bizarrely, those Devils were disappointed to miss the playoffs after getting one win away from the Stanley Cup Final the season before. Also, hey, the Mets are somehow in first place, so how bad could life really be?

Of course, those teams would have plenty to play for in the coming seasons. Who's to say what will happen for the Pistons and Nets after tonight? As for what happens tonight itself, well, probably some mediocre basketball.

But I will be there to find out. And that's the important thing.

Just The Start We Were Looking For

Now, I don't want to go out on a limb and say that after the offseason of no impressive player acquisitions and billion-dollar lawsuits against the ownership the Mets suffered through, that after six innings it looked like the Amazins were about to suffer through the worst possible start to their season.

But, uh, it looked pretty bad.

Not only did Mike Pelfrey's Opening Day start fall apart on an unexpected grand slam by that immortal slugger John Buck in the fourth inning, but the Mets were actually on the short end of a no-hitter by Florida ace Josh Johnson through six innings before finally breaking the spell and ultimately succumbing in a 6-2 loss in at Sun Life Stadium. Seriously, the best part about the whole night for a Mets fan was that Clarence Clemons of the E Street Band played the National Anthem on his sax.

So that happened.

I know getting my knickers in a twist over this is, of course, a fairly foolish thing to do. After all, there are 161 games left to go this season, so getting antsy when there is plenty of time to change is irrational at best. But should I even bother to believe that there's a chance things will get better than they were Friday night? I mean, they ought to. I have a hard time believing they'd get much worse.

But that's why they play the other 161 games, so here we go in about seven and a half hours for Jon Niese and Ricky Nolasco, which should be a ripper, or something. If the Mets can pull off a win that'll be exciting even though an awful team does that 60 times a year or so, but if they CAN do that maybe we'll forget the mediocre that lies ahead over the next six months. Or at the very least, perhaps fans can make more hilarious ticket sales pitches like this one.



But even if the Mets are awful, life isn't all bad in the sports realm today.

For one, while all of us were sleeping Geelong kicked some ass in a closer-than-it-needed-to-be affair in Perth in an eventual 89-78 win over Fremantle, which puts the Cats at 2-0 before their big NATIONALLY TELEVISED GAME AGAINST PORT ADELAIDE NEXT WEEK. And by "nationally televised" I mean "in the United States on ESPN2". See? I didn't make up that this sport existed. It may be at midnight on a Saturday night, but since I have to be up early for work the next day anyway, I'll be in front of the TV. Also, I might be tired from my impending trip to Detroit, but more on that later.

In other news, the New Jersey Devils' season is probably over, but there is a minor lift coming tonight when after missing nearly all the season with a torn meniscus, Zach Parise will be back on the ice when the Devils host the Canadiens. The actual impact of his return on this season is probably close to nil, but it'll at least make the Devils fans among us a little happier for the night.

Truth be told though, I probably won't be watching much of either the Devils or the Mets tonight, because rumor has it there are some "basketball games" of minor import. So yeah, most of my attention will be focused solely on the Final Four, which, while I stand nothing to gain as far as brackets or survival pools are concerned at this point, is still, you know, interesting. Or at least fun.

Besides, if by some chance Butler wins the National Championship or even, heaven's to betsy, Virginia Commonwealth, we'll all have a fun little story to tell our kids about, right? Right?

The answer is yes. We will. More fun than I'll have talking about the 2011 Mets anyway.

When Winning Is Losing. And Vice Versa.

I do not like Duke. I believe that's what makes me most like the rest of America. In fact, I'm fairly certain the only non-Duke graduate who actively roots for the school is my cousin Geoff, who told me this morning, "Never bet against the Blue Devils." Of course, that seems particularly odd to say today considering Duke was rather surprisingly bounced from the NCAA Tournament last night by Arizona in the Sweet Sixteen. I won't get into the peculiarities like how it could be fair for a No. 1 seed to host a school from Tuscon in Anaheim, or how Duke could have seemingly forgotten to play basketball in the second half when the Wildcats went on a very impressive run.

But I will say this. I was not betting against the Blue Devils. In fact, I was betting on them. And after letting me down the one time I was actually rooting for Duke, it could be a while before I do it again.

As I alluded to in my last entry, I was in a survival pool for this year's Dance in which I fared far better than my actual bracket -- which I haven't even looked at in days -- did. In fact, after a wild Sunday night, I was one of just five people remaining, and I had assumed that of the games Thursday night, Duke was the one sure bet to win. And so, with the chance of winning a $700 prize on the line, I put my hopes with the Blue Devils and watched.

And then that happened.

So yeah, I was out of the running for $700, and even the considerable silver lining of "But Duke lost, which makes everyone happy" wasn't going to comfort me.

Then, there was a window opened about 15 minutes later in New Orleans. I have a soft spot in my heart for the Wisconsin Badgers since several of my friends, my sister and my grandmother are all alums, and if Northwestern is out of the running, which, uh, they were, I'll usually throw my lot with Bucky. But when I noticed that all the remaining participants in the pool had Wisconsin advancing, and that a win by Butler would knock everyone out, I changed my tune.

See, if anyone advanced to Friday I was done completely, but if the five remaining participants all lost in one night, we would have a five-way tie and a split pot. I wouldn't quite be getting $700, but a take of $148 wasn't too shabby, and my decision was made despite the overwhelming temptation to cheer for a team that would offer a basketball scholarship to Christopher "Kid" Reid of the early 90's hip-hop duo Kid N' Play.

What moxie.

Fortunately for me, Butler answered the call in a win that really was never in doubt until Wisconsin made a late rally, which led me to two conclusions, a) While it wouldn't be quite as satisfying as a $700 take from this year's pool, I still managed to win an extremely satisfying $148 -- my best take from a March Madness pool ever, and b) Butler probably shouldn't really be an eight seed.

Granted, the Bulldogs did go a relatively paltry 23-9 this regular season with five losses in the Horizon League, but their comfort and determination on the big stage has become clearly evident in big tournament wins over No. 1 Pittsburgh and now No. 4 Wisconsin. On almost gets the sense that even without Gordon Hayward, Brad Stevens and his boys were simply biding their time until it was March.

At this point, seedings aside, I can't see how one wouldn't give them a fighting chance at knocking off Florida Saturday and landing in their second consecutive Final Four. And once they're there, playing like they are, all things are certain. All I know is that from now on, when I watch, I won't be doing so with so much anxiety.

After all, despite losing, I made my money. It's almost like playing for the Mets.

Ok, So I've Had Better First Weekends Than That

I'm guessing when I said last week that this was by far the least research I had ever done before filling out my NCAA bracket that I must not have been lying. The first four days of the Tournament this year were outlandishly exciting, but also, uh, not what I predicted. On the first day alone I lost three teams from my sweet sixteen, one from my Elite Eight and wound up a mediocre 9-7. While that didn't inspire much confidence, at least my Final Four was still intact.

You know, until the second round, when my National Champion spit the bit against Butler on an utterly bizarre series of fouls in the games final seconds. But that's cool -- it's only the second year in a row that my eventual champion was sent packing in the round of 32.

Now don't get me wrong. Butler, obviously, has some experience, so I suppose in general, it's not really that crazy for them to be making another deep run in the NCAAs, but I have to be honest. I thought I'd do a wee bit better than this At this point my bracket is so shot that I have nothing to watch for except pure love of the game, which, really, is utterly silly.

Then again I'm still alive in my survivor pool, so at least there's that.

Of course, that I'm watching basketball at all after Northwestern's utterly bizarre loss in the NIT quarterfinals last night/this morning at Washington State, might just be a testament to my own intestinal fortitude. This was a game that featured a shockingly intense student crowd for an NIT game, the Wildcats doing something they've done maybe once in my life ever by rallying from a double-digit deficit to take a lead in the second half on the road, a potential walk-off foul after a game-tying goal tend in the final ten seconds and then someone missing both of those potential walk-off free throws which prompted this statement from me.

I then realized that if God was a Wildcat, Northwestern would have been to the NCAA Tournament once in the past seven and a half decades, making my statement patently ridiculous.

The Cats would go on to lose in an equally as bizarre overtime that nearly saw them get the ball back down 1 with 20 seconds left simply because the Washington State player lost his handle on the ball, before Alex Marcotullio missed not one but two three-pointers to tie the game at the final buzzer to end what is -- I'm not making this up -- the deepest postseason run Northwestern has ever had.

Seriously, why do I watch college basketball anymore? Or at least why Northwestern?

Oh, and the winning team had a player who had been suspended and had his suspension lifted within 12 hours.

Fun times.

So that's how college basketball has treated me in the past week, but fortunately I get the distraction of Aussie Rules Football finally being back this season after Carlton topped Richmond by 20 points this morning. Of course the season doesn't really start until Geelong has its first bounce tomorrow morning against St. Kilda, which I'm sure you're all waking up at 4:30 a.m. for.

Ok, I can sense that I'm losing all of you at this point. Perhaps it's time to go. Hopefully this weekend's basketball goes better than last.

That Did Not Go As Planned

Well, after a long, hellish day at Laguardia airport yesterday, I was treated to an even longer, hellish football game if you're a fan of the New York Giants. I had grown dizzy from watching numbers on the scoreboard go up faster than that sign on Sixth Avenue that announces our national debt watching the Giants lose to the Colts, 38-14 in Indianapolis last night. In fact, I have to imagine my buddy Dov is impressed that nothing in Lucas Oil Stadium was broken by me. Then again, after missing my morning flight to Indianapolis yesterday -- my ticket only said that the gate closed 10 minutes before take off and checked bags had to be in 45 minutes -- because I was three minutes late for the 30 minute check-in cutoff, being in a football stadium rather than an airport was a joy.

My big plans for yesterday after arriving around noon involved a number of possibilities, like touring the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, visiting the NCAA Hall of Champions or having dinner with the king of Indiana High School Football reporting, Pat Dorsey.

Instead, I missed my flight because of any number of minor items that would have saved me a few minutes. The seven took five minutes to arrive. The Q33 Bus just sat for 10 minutes before leaving 74th St and Broadway. I took an unnecessary shower. I made a sandwich from leftover roast beef from my grandmother's Yom Kippur breakfast spread.

Why did I feel the need to make a damn sandwich?

Clearly, any momentary issue or item from yesterday morning could have been skipped or altered to the point that I would have made my flight, arrived for a full day or touristy travel around Indianapolis, and not made Dov wait around downtown Indy by himself for six hours.

Alas, sometimes those best laid plans falter.

Indianapolis has never been very high on my list of vacation hot spots. I'm told the downtown area is actually a bit of fun, but considering my flight issues, I didn't really get to see it. Regardless, it'd be worth a trip back to the Circle City to see the Colts -- though preferably not with this outcome.

And why?

Well, I'll give it a full run down at some later point, but the atmosphere at Lucas Oil Stadium comes close to rivaling what I experienced at Lambeau Field, which I consider perhaps the best sporting experience in America. The crowd was almost obsessively enthusiastic and the building was as loud as any I've ever been to -- deafeningly so. When I received a text from one friend asking me if it was as loud as it was on TV, my only thought was that it had to be even louder. The building was absolutely deafening whenever the Giants had the ball, making it not hard to see why they might have been confused once or twice.

Also, and perhaps more pertinently, the building is beautiful. Football stadiums, because of the uniformity of field, are very difficult to make interesting as architectural artistry is concerned. Until recent years, this wasn't even a concern in most brand new stadiums. Lucas Oil Stadium is one of a handful of stadiums that changes that notion, using a brickface exterior similar to retro baseball stadiums like Camden Yards to give a significantly more palatable visual, which, in the case of Lucas Oil is reminiscent of an old warehouse. In many ways, the building reminded me of one of my favorite venues in any sports, Williams Arena (a.k.a. The Barn) at the University of Minnesota.

The inside has great sightlines, and there is an intimate feel that almost blinds you to the other impressive architectural choices, namely the retractable roof, and the gigantic glass windows on the north side of the stadium that allow natural light to shine in even when the roof is closed. Also, kudos to the blue seats that reinforce the color scheme of the Colts' classic unis. It helps to retain the dignity of the franchise that is lost by the, uh, suggestive antics of its mascots.

Also, I only sampled one food item -- the pulled pork sandwich -- and while the visual consistency of the pulled pork was a little disconcerting, it was both delicious and extremely filling, which is hard to find at a stadium for $8.

Other stadium curios I dug: the fact that they actually played scenes from Hoosiers on the jumbotron, the Colts logo in the seats of the upper deck, the giant Colts helmet with TV screens in the face mask, Northwestern alum Chris Hinton in the ring of fame and the halftime visit by last year's Butler Men's Basketball team, which nearly won a cinderella National Championship.

All in all, it was a great night at the stadium -- you know, if you ignore the game. Fortunately, I wasn't the only person frustrated, though I probably picked better means by which to express them. In any event, my time in Indianapolis was productive, even if the Giants lost, and even if I remained in the city for a grand total of 13 hours.

Only 87 teams left. You're next, Minnesota Twins.

What If Verbal Kint And Dave Kujan Just Died Of Brain Aneurysms?

Well if that happened we'd probably all be a bit frustrated because it would be just about the least satisfying ending to a great movie we could possibly imagine -- short of the two of them just hugging for a few minutes. No Keyser Soze, no Kobayashi, no Dean Keaton. The Usual Suspects is just a big fat dud at the end.

That would totally suck.

I bring this up because that's pretty much what we got last night with Duke's victory in the NCAA National Championship Game. Don't get me wrong. The game was phenomenal the whole way through, and Butler proved they belonged on the national stage, but after one of the greatest tournaments in recent memory, the team that wound up cutting down the nets was the one team that absolutely no one wanted to see win. And that leaves a profoundly unsatisfying taste in the mouths of just about everyone who doesn't live in Durham, North Carolina.

And it's quite a shame that we lost what could have been the most appropriate ending to such a wild month of basketball when Gordon Hayward heaved up a potential game-winner three-pointer from half court and it clanged off the rim at the buzzer. We were this close to getting what we wanted -- a moment in college basketball that would have been talked about and replayed for decades -- a small school in its home town knocking off mighty Duke University for the National Championship with a buzzer-beater.

Alas, it was not meant to be, and all we have to remember it by is an incredibly lame game story by whomever was writing it for the AP. He actually writes "What a game!" in the story. Good lord.

It is difficult to know that Butler had not one but two chances to take the lead in the final 30 seconds, but in the end, a great game at the end of a phenomenal tournament isn't all that bad. And with the impending expansion of the tournament to 96 teams next year, this isn't the only shining moment college basketball has had, but it may be the last.



In other news, some of you might have noticed that the Mets opened the season yesterday with a solid 7-1 victory over Florida. The game was actually quite taut most of the way until three errors by the defensively inept Marlins opened the floodgates in a four-run sixth inning for New York. Prior to that, Johan Santana and Josh Johnson had been locked up in a tight pitchers duel, with David Wright's first-inning home run providing the only difference.  Eventually the Mets would pull away for the comfortable win, continuing their remarkable record of winning on Opening Day.

Now comes the hard part. Playing the other 161 games. With that pitching staff it won't be easy.

As one of my favorite teams begins its season another's regular season is ending. New Jersey is hardly done. Even if they get eliminated in the first round of the playoffs they'll still be playing until late April. Hopefully they'll be around until June. Either way, the next step in the Devils' close race for the Atlantic Division title with Pittsburgh comes tonight in Atlanta, where Ilya Kovalchuk will make his first appearance since the Thrashers dealt him to New Jersey in February.

While that is the big story, however, what may eventually be the biggest is that a win for Martin Brodeur will make him the first ever member of the 600 win club.

A few years ago, when Brodeur had won his 400th game, I did a brief extrapolation to examine how many wins he would wind up with at his current pace. I assumed some things would slow him down, age and perhaps his triceps injury last year among them. But I had found Brodeur could wind up with as many as 700 wins. I never expected that to happen, but with 600 on the horizon, and Brodeur still winning 40 games a year, with perhaps three seasons left in him, well, it doesn't seem quite so far-fetched.

And given that the most anyone else has ever won is 551 games, well, it's mighty impressive. Here's hoping he crosses that next milestone tonight.