Now That's An Entrance. And An Exit.

Let's assume for a second that last night, Friday, May 13th, you were actually watching the Mets-Astros game. No, I know, no sane, rational person would be doing that on a nice Friday night in the spring time, but that's not the point of the exercise. Let's assume that you saw fit to watch to baseball teams that are probably going nowhere duke it out for three hours.

Although, as I point that the Mets are going nowhere I should also note that aside from an interminable 2-12 stretch earlier this season the Amazins are actually 16-8. And their four-run eighth inning last night did show off some rather exciting moxie.

But I digress. These are not good baseball teams. And given that we know that already in May, it's pretty clear that this game is not worth watching when you could do more productive things with your Friday night like see friends or stare at a wall.

However, one of the great things about baseball is that every game gives you the opportunity to see something you've never seen before, and while a late comeback to win a baseball game, or even a Mets victory, are things I've seen before, I had never seen something like this.

Yeah, that's a crazy fan running onto the field, something that has happened numerous times before, and while this particular incident won't inspire a silly debate about the necessity of tasers, or point out just how dumb Philadephia sports fans are, it's easily the greatest attempt to evade the authorities that I've ever seen from a stands jumper. That's what the Astros get for having that stupid hill in center field. And the best thing about it, beyond the acrobatics shown by the fan in question, is that, seemingly, no one really got hurt. It was just a fun-loving fan livening up the crowd.



Steve McQueen would be proud.

Now that said I don't want to imply that I'm suddenly encouraging fans to jump the stands and run onto the field. Far from it. More often than not these events wind up being potentially or actually dangerous to at least one if not both people involved.

Obviously we don't want that.

But if you, as a fan, absolutely have to be a reckless ass and run out on the field, when you do it, at least do it in a way that is most importantly not dangerous and almost as importantly, awesome. And this was pretty damn awesome. Even some of the players enjoyed it.

Of course, the one big problem with this is that all 15 Major League games today might get stopped by some schmuck hoping to duplicate the impressive feat. I'm guessing that it'll happen at at least one game somewhere this week. While that will be infinitely irritating, I'm at least going to revel and cherish this moment, almost as much as the Mets actually playing sort of ok lately or Geelong winning its big showdown with Collingwood Friday.

After all, how could I not enjoy the second funniest news item to come out this week?

Get Your Overpriced Ephemeral Merchandise Here!

Some of you probably noticed that there was a huge television extravaganza on recently with some royalty involved. Yes, the first round of the NFL Draft was last night, and boy howdy was it a party. I know, I know, you probably thought I was talking about some other royal TV... thing, but come on, we fought pretty damn hard to free ourselves from the yoke of these imperial oppressors, no matter how fabulous their sense of humor might be.

The brilliant, and not at all crazy, Jack Edwards knows exactly what I'm talking about.

So no, the royal wedding in the wee hours of this morning was not the exciting TV event I was talking about, although I really did enjoy when NBC's camera lingered over Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard and Matt Lauer and Meredith Viera clearly had no idea who she was. Come on, people? Even Dust and Sand knows who she is. Frankly, I think it's awfully nice of her to even bother making the trip to the wedding considering all of Australia was probably emotionally spent from Geelong's stunning win over Hawthorn earlier this week. Of course, the Cats have done that before.

But I digress. The draft. The Giants had the 19th pick in the NFL's annual selection gala, and chose to use it on Prince Amukamara, so named because he was the first son of a Nigerian chief, and if you don't think this qualifies him as royalty, you should check out the names of his sisters. Interestingly, he's not the first Giant draftee to be a sort of African royalty, although he grew up in Arizona, but what struck me most about the evening, aside from the fact that many Giants fans weren't sure we needed another defensive back (Ed: You can never have enough defensive backs), was that within moments I got an e-mail from the Giants offering me the exclusive opportunity to purchase what might just be the most useless piece of merchandise I've ever seen from a sports team.

You see, at least draft hats and the like can still be worn easily. The Giants are probably never changing their logo. But this was advertised to me as a "Prince Amukamara draft jersey". I understand this is a business and that sports teams need to make money where they can, but this just seems over the top. To buy this jersey would be a painfully silly purchase. And there are more than a few reasons why.

For one, and perhaps most importantly, we know nothing about how Prince Amukamara will be as an NFL cornerback. He may be the next Champ Bailey, but he may also be the next Rashard Anderson. We don't know. Personally, I don't really understand shelling out $85 for a player who may wallow in obscurity.

For two, Prince Amukamara may not even make the team. Sure that's unlikely, but it's certainly possible, and if that's the case, well, personally, I don't really understand shelling out $85 for a player who may never actually be a Giant.

For three, the number on the jersey is "No. 1". If Amukamara makes the team he will almost certainly not wear No. 1. Some of you may thing this is a place holder and that those who purchase this jersey will get a jersey with his actual number, but no. The description actually says, "made to look like the exact jersey given to Amukamara on draft day", which means it will be No. 1. And, uh, personally I don't really understand shelling out $85 for a player who may not actually wear the number on the jersey I'm purchasing.

For four, it's a replica. It's not even nice! It's just a thin piece of mesh with the No. 1 and Amukamara silk-screened on it. Personally, I don't really understand shelling out $85 for a player whose jersey may have the numbers rubbed off after five times through the wash.

So yeah, basically what I'm telling you all is that the NFL is asking me to pay $85 for a piece of merchandise that has the shelf life of, oh, two weeks. Who, exactly, is buying this jersey? Well, not me, but as we know, in service to the almighty dollar, the NFL has had a tendency to do what it can to get as many premature dollars as possible.

Far be it from me to stand in the way.

Of course, once the Giants picked I mostly tuned out from the draft, which is fine since some Giants were preoccupied anyway, and for most of the first two hours I was flipping between it and the Mets, who, tragically, saw their Major League-high six-game winning streak come to an end in Washington. It is worth noting after that winning streak that the Mets are still under .500. Once I tuned out I moved on to the NHL playoffs, which, duh, you should all be watching. All sorts of fun stuff could happen, and many prognosticators are putting their opinion in.

As are the brilliant scribes reporting on it. And that doesn't even include the awards nominations which, surely, you've all paid attention to.

If you haven't, there's a chance for you to jump on the bandwagon tonight when the Capitals and Lightning open up a doubleheader that will later feature the Red Wings and Sharks. And if you don't tonight, I won't blame you.

You're probably too angry at yourself for spending $85 on that short-lived Amukamara draft jersey.

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.

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.

Apparently, I'm A Masochist. Who Knew?

If being a Mets fan has made anything clear it's that I, apparently, have an insatiable lust for pain. Yesterday I realized that hadn't changed when I got an e-mail from the team offering five-game flex ticket packs for the upcoming season. Typically, I ignore these e-mails because the tickets are too damn expensive, but I was blinded by a huge segment of block text said "NO ORDERING FEES".

You know those things: the transaction fees that enable teams to needlessly add five bucks onto every ticket, but in actuality are complete nonsense.

So I, foolishly assuming I was about to get a deal, promptly bought a Mets flex package for this season, a season that is sure to be disappointing just like they all are. For any evidence of that, look no further than yesterday's spring training opener against Atlanta that ended in a 5-5 tie.

Yes, a tie. In baseball.

Sister kissing is an unusual phenomenon in this sport, which, as we've seen, could theoretically go on forever in a regular season game, but in the spring training no one really has the patience, which means when a game is tied after nine innings, the managers debate whether or not they really care to bake out in the sun much longer. In this case, Terry Collins and Fredi Gonzalez decided that 10 innings would be enough, and it seemed like it would be for Atlanta after they took a 5-3 lead in the top of the inning. Of course, then former-Met killer Willie Harris, who was signed this offseason with the apparent idea of "even if he sucks he won't kill us anymore", smacked a two-run homer to tie the game in the bottom of the 10th, and that was how it would stand. Were it not for my discovery that my supermarket now sells Sunset Wheat, this would have been the highlight of my week.

Considering that this was the second rally by the Mets to tie the game I'm pretty sure Saturday's tie marks the high point of New York's 2011 season. It's all downhill from here.

And when it goes downhill, I'll be there to watch six times. I made a point to pick games in my plan, since it gives you the option of choosing, that were generally in the first half of the season so that my delusions of the Mets still having a chance wouldn't have been shattered yet. Highlights include the Subway Series opener the first weekend of July, a meeting with the defending-champion Giants and Ike Davis bobblehead day on July 19th against St. Louis.

Now comes the hard part. Finding six people dumb enough to go to each game with me.

In other news, some of you might have noticed that the Oscars are tonight and I, something of an Oscar junkie as you can see from some of my zanier columns in the past, am as excited as always even though I somehow managed not to see half the Best Picture nominees this year. I bring this up because I came across a rather startling discovery this afternoon involving one of my favorite films of all time, L.A. Confidential. For those of you who have seen L.A. Confidential you know that it is, well, incredible in every way. As such, it is a constant reminder to me that the Oscars are total bunk since L.A. Confidential lost Best Picture in 1997 to some boat movie.

Either way, what I did not realize is that one of the stars of the film, Guy Pearce, who so deftly pulled off a turn as the film's protagonist Lieutenant Edmund Exley, is also a tremendous sports fan. This I should have assumed because he's also Australian and Australians love their sports. And most importantly, they love their footy.

And Guy Pearce loves his footy.

But almost more important than the fact that Guy Pearce loves his footy is that he loves one footy team in particular. And it's the right one. I was entirely unaware that Pearce grew up on his mother's deer farm in Geelong, where he endured a rough 40 years of his life before he finally saw the Cats get their first championship since four years before he was born. As far as Geelong fans go, apparently Pearce is one of the more famous ones, something that the club has noted on its own website for no apparent reason other than to say "We have a celebrity that roots for us."

Pearce is apparently such a big fan of the club that he was the no-brainer choice to narrate a special video segment on the most crucial moment of Geelong's 2009 Grand Final victory over St. Kilda.



It makes one wonder if Pearce had a bet on the match with Eric Bana, a diehard St. Kilda fan who was shown on TV in the crowd of the Grand Final that day about every four seconds or so.

In any event, it's nice to know that the main man of one of my favorite films shares a bizarre team in kind with me. Unfortunately, Pearce isn't up for any Oscars tonight, nor did L.A. Confidential take home the big prize 14 years ago, but the 2007 and 2009 Grand Final victories are far more meaningful anyway.

Besides, it could be worse. He could have been duped into buying Mets tickets.

Oh, Hey. Pitchers and Catchers Reported This Week

I'm not sure if you noticed, but the earliest parts of baseball season are upon us, meaning pitchers and catchers reported this week. Now, in years past this news was unbelievably exciting, to the point that I would make sure the entire world knew all about it. Of course that remnant of my college years there came in 2007, four months after the Mets had been tantalizingly close to a World Series berth and seemed primed to challenge for another one. This season is another matter. Pitchers and catchers reported this week and I was, well, kind of ambivalent.

And how did that happen, you ask?

Well, despite all seeds of optimism -- such as the realization that the Mets actually have a pretty decent roster if they stay healthy -- most people agree this could be an awfully long season in New York, and that apparently extends to players who haven't even been on the roster for 20 years. Then again, unlike the players on the current team, Tim Teufel actually won a World Series. Regardless of the misfortune affecting Mr. Teufel, I am almost overwhelmed by how not overwhelmed I am by the Mets this season. This is the first time in at least a decade that pitchers and catchers have reported and I've been almost ambivalent about it in every sense.

Don't get me wrong. I will still be watching baseball enthusiastically all season long, and I am currently planning a trek to the southwest to see the Mets visit Arizona and San Diego in August -- remarkable considering they're likely to be well out of the race by then -- but something about this season just doesn't excite me like it has in seasons past. We'll see if a few spring training games actually get me back into the swing of baseball fandom.

In the meantime, at least there's one team that's giving me a reason to get excited about the next few months.

This one.



I'm not entirely sure how the Devils have suddenly turned on the switch, and as I said last week, the excitement cause by New Jersey's current run is likely too little too late, but that doesn't make it any less fun; particularly if they can knock off the currently eighth-seeded Hurricanes in Carolina tonight and trim that postseason deficit to 10 points with 23 games to go. As I've said before, if that happens, I'll actually throw my support behind this foolish run. A run that, if you hadn't paid close enough attention, has now given the Devils a 14-1-2 record in their last 17 games.

And if you are as excited about the Devils right now as I am, surely you just can't get enough hockey, and if that's the case you must be totally pumped up for the inaugural Hockey Day in America tomorrow -- a day to celebrate America's deep-running love of hockey.

Yes, that exists, oh naysayers. Just because you don't care doesn't mean millions don't. In any event, there is nine hours of hockey coverage on NBC and Versus tomorrow, including NBC's first ever NHL doubleheader, but you probably knew that since you read that totally great article about NBC's coverage on NHL.com earlier this week. You always keep up with your NHL news, just like how you were looking for hourly updates on Dustin Byfuglien's contract extension late Tuesday night or Steve Yzerman's thoughts on facing the Red Wings for the first time in a professional capacity.

Regardless of the fact that none of you reading this actually probably care about any of those topics, Hockey Day in America should be fun, if not busy for me at the office. All four games NBC is showing should be pretty decent matchups and the whole day is capped off with the Heritage Classic in Calgary, which, like all outdoor games, will be a lot of fun.

Lastly, if the Devils impending hot run that winds up just short isn't enough to excite me (WARNING: DAVE IS ABOUT TO TALK ABOUT AUSSIE RULES FOOTBALL) Geelong's 2011 campaign down under is about a month from getting underway, and its opening match in the preseason NAB Cup bounces tomorrow afternoon. Yes, I know what what you're thinking. "How are the Cats going to compete to their typical standards with Gary Ablett Jr., the best and fairest in the game, taking his talents to the brand new Gold Coast Suns?" Yes, those are valid concerns. But remember, this is still a rich, deep, and young roster, with strange talents like Corey Enright, Steve Johnson, Tom Hawkins and my personal favorite, Joel Selwood. Don't forget the experienced leadership of Cameron Ling, Brad Ottens, Cameron Mooney and Darren Milburn. Geelong, which was one win away from a fourth consecutive Grand Final appearance this past season, will still have the talent to be in the mix.

Heightening this excitement? AFANA just announced this season's impending schedule for broadcasted games on ESPN3.com, because unfortunately that's really the only way to see any footy these days. And the best part about this schedule is that of the 22 matches Geelong will play in the home and away season, 11 of them will be streamed live on ESPN3.com. Best of all? The one announced live match to be broadcast on ESPN2 this season is Geelong facing off with Port Adelaide on Sunday morning at 12 a.m. on April 10 in a rematch of the 2007 Grand Final, Geelong's first Premiership in 44 years.

Aren't you excited, too? No? Well, don't worry about footy then. Or hockey.

Did you hear pitchers and catchers reported this week?

Sometimes You Just Want To Hit Your Head

Friends, enemies, acquaintances, I am no stranger to heartbreak. Both in real life and as a sports fan I have taken my fair share of difficult metaphorical stomach punches -- though fortunately far more in the sports department. Over the years just about all of my teams have had at least one utterly frustrating, deflating brutal defeat that has thrown me into emotional disrepair. To wit:

The Mets -- This team is a special breed with numerous tough losses to swallow since I started paying diligent attention, but the Kenny Rogers Ball Four in Game 6 of the 1999 NLCS, Armando Benitez's inability to strike out Paul O'Neill in Game 1 of the 2000 World Series, the final games of the 2007 and 2008 regular seasons and Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS all bring a special kind of pain with them.

The Giants -- At long last in February 2008, I was rewarded with the greatest upset in football history, but prior to that, a tough beating in Super Bowl XXXV, an almost absurd Trey Junkin-capped collapse in the 2002 postseason against San Francisco, Jay Feely's three missed field goals in Seattle in 2005 and the blown 21-point lead in 10 minutes at Tennessee in 2006 had left me wondering if glory would ever come.

The Devils -- Even a team with 16 consecutive playoff appearances and three Stanley Cups has had its share of tough setbacks, with Game 7 of the 1994 Eastern Conference Finals and Game 7 of the 2001 Stanley Cup Final chief among them. Oh yeah, and this gut punch which I still wince while watching.

The Knicks -- The entire decade of the 2000s. Isiah Thomas.

Northwestern -- This season alone has been a bitter pill with a blown 21-point lead to Penn State just last week to go with collapses at home against No. 7 Michigan State and a broken, battered Purdue team. But just for good measure, let's throw Michigan State's 35-point comeback in 2006, last year's Outback Bowl and the 2008 Alamo Bowl in there for good measure. And don't forget that Northwestern is the only school in the BCS conferences to never make the NCAA Tournament.

Hell, even Southampton FC, with its Inigo Idiakez botched PK against Derby County in 2007's flirtation with Premier League Promotion, and Geelong FC, with this year's painful Qualifying Final loss to St. Kilda and the departing of Gary Ablett have gotten in on the act.

But given all of that pain, what happened to the New Jersey Devils and Ilya Kovalchuk last night was something else entirely.

No, I'm not going to be silly enough to suggest that a regular season shootout loss in November in a season quite possibly already down the tubes was enough to top this prodigious list. But it just may be the most embarrassing loss I've ever seen one of my teams suffer.



Yes, you watched that correctly. Ilya Kovalchuk, with the game on the line in the fourth round of a shootout against the equally disappointing Buffalo Sabres, simply had the puck hop over his stick and drift away, costing New Jersey another potential point in the standings. For a team that, with its new $102 million man in tow and several other major offseason additions to boot (Jason Arnott, Henrik Tallinder, Anton Volchenkov), was expected by many not just to be competitive, but to take aim at a Stanley Cup this moment has represented everything that has gone wrong in about three seconds of non-action.

This muffed shootout attempt has epitomized a tremendously disappointing year in downright comical fashion. Now, of course, the season is not over. In fact, it's not even a quarter of the way over. But the Devils, tied with Edmonton and the NY Islanders for the lowest mark in the League have quite a bit of work to do to make their way back in the playoff discussion. And they're doing so without their best all around player for three months.

Now, to say this is not what I had expected is a dramatic understatement, and as I watched last night in the office, I simply dropped my head into my hands in a way I hadn't done since Carlos Beltran let strike three for Adam Wainright go by without a swing in 2006, but there is plenty of time for New Jersey to make a move and salvage a playoff run. After all, in the NHL all you need to do is make the postseason. Once there all bets are off. But the disenchanting thing is not that the Devils are in this almost inexplicable funk, but that they show very few signs of actually breaking out of it.

I won't lose hope yet, but to put it mildly, reasons for excitement are starting to fade away as the season progresses. The only thing that truly reassures me is that with the Devils' 15 games behind them, they still have 66 left to play. And that looks like an awfully large number at first glance. For now, I'll cling to that.

Apparently, Donovan McNabb Grew Up In Australia

Some might consider it unfair that I spend so much time making fun of Donovan McNabb. Not because he's a bad quarterback. He's not. In fact, he might just be a great quarterback and I was overjoyed to see that the Eagles traded him this offseason until I realized he would still be in the NFC East with the Redskins. No, his on-field skills are not to be argued. My mockery has come from an amusing incident two years ago when, after the Eagles tied the Bengals, McNabb admitted in a postgame press conference that he had no idea there were ties in the NFL.

This is, of course, patently ridiculous, but what you might not have known, and that McNabb perhaps did, is that not only are there ties in Aussie Rules Football, but they are, apparently, pretty pervasive. As McNabb opined, "I'd hate to see what happens in a Super Bowl ... if they settle with a tie." This was met with quite a bit of criticism because a) you should know the rules in the NFL if you're a perennial Pro Bowl quarterback and b) it is ludicrous to end the Super Bowl in a tie.

But that's not the rule down under. As I've mentioned more than once, over the last few years I have developed a big fandom for Aussie Rules over the past two years, and Friday night was the sport's big day, as Collingwood and St. Kilda met for the 2010 Grand Final. Bizarrely, and to protect how "unique" the championship game is, AFL rules actually stipulate that should the Grand Final end in a tie after regulation is finished, it will be ruled a draw and an entirely second Grand Final will be replayed a week later.

Leading up to Saturday morning's title game, only two Grand Finals had ever ended in a draw -- once in 1948 and once in 1977.

Well Saturday morning, AFL fans were treated to a wild championship bout, as St. Kilda rallied from 24 points down at half time leading to a frantic final few minutes. And when the dust settled, a lot of Magpies and Saints were kissing their sisters.

I am a big proponent of not judging a sporting culture I didn't grow up in, which is is why, among other things, I thought it was ridiculous when soccer fans called for the banning of vuvuzelas at this year's World Cup. Still, I can't help but think that this is a wholly bizarre quirk of the Australian sporting culture. The idea of ramping up and playing an entirely second, unplanned championship game replete with pregame entertainment, broadcast rights issues and ticket distribution is just a crazy concept, particularly when the Grand Final, which is played annually at the legendary Melbourne Cricket Ground in front of roughly 100,000 fans, has taken on Super Bowl-esque proportions.



Perhaps the eeriest part of this entire affair is that Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard apparently saw it coming. Gillard, who has struggled in recent weeks to pull together a governing coalition after national elections turned in a hung Parliament, joked at the traditional Grand Final breakfast that the two teams could not return a draw because, "A week without a premiership football team - I'm not sure our nation's strong enough to take it."

After predicting something that unlikely, I'd like to take the Prime Minister with me to Vegas.

In any event, even if Australia isn't tough enough to take it -- because apparently they didn't spend this offseason in Arizona with the Collingwood footy club -- they're going to have to, and if the Grand Final ends in a draw 30 years from now they may have to again. For the time being, the head honchos of the AFL say the Grand Final replay is here to stay. And not everyone seems too happy about it. St. Kilda boss Ross Lyon, who I suppose can still claim a better result than a year ago when the Saints lost to (cough) the Geelong Cats in the Grand Final, said afterwards that he thinks there should simply be extra time tacked on to determine a winner. St. Kilda superstar Nick Riewoldt also thought the notion was peculiar while Collingwood captain Nick Maxwell went a step further, calling a replay an "absolute joke".

At least Geoff Ogilvy appreciated it.

One would think the outcry might prompt a comprehensive review of both the logic, the cost and the embarrassment of having a drawn Grand Final, but I imagine that issue will, for the time being, be tabled and discussed more thoroughly a few months down the line when heads have cooled. But in the interim this is just a strange, strange situation that millions of AFL fans in Australia and whichever ones persist elsewhere around the world will have to deal with. Let it not be forgotten, however, that for some of us there is a silver lining in all of this.

We get to watch more footy before the year is out. In the end, that ain't half bad.

NFL Picks Week Two: In Which I Atone For Week One

Yes, once again I've been neglecting to update but I actually have a really good reason this time. I swear.

For the past three days I've been up in Boston covering some rookie games between the Boston Bruins and New York Islanders, in addition to snooping around No. 2 2010 NHL Draft Pick Tyler Seguin and the No. 5 selection Nino Niederreiter. If you don't believe me, I have plenty of evidence.

Also, I have to admit I spent far longer than I should have leering at the brand new Bobby Orr "Superman" statue that's been erected outside Boston's TD Garden. Because, let's be honest -- it's fucking awesome. I took a few minutes to really take a good look at it because it wasn't up the last time I made my way to the Garden 19 months ago, and it just may be my favorite of all the numerous sports stadium statues I've seen. In fact, the brilliant statue of Willie Mays outside PacBell/SBC/AT&T Park is the only one that comes close.

I also received another distraction when the Mets released their 2011 schedule and I immediately began plotting ball park trips for next summer. Does a sweltering trip that includes Texas and Houston in late June or a scenic drive from Arizona to San Diego in mid-August sound exciting to anyone else?

Ugh. Didn't think so.

But don't worry, dear readers. Or possibly reader. Because I will not neglect you. In the midst of what is an absurdly busy week -- Boston from Tuesday to Friday, Yom Kippur Friday to Saturday, Indianapolis Sunday to Monday -- I'm still going to give you an insight into just how poorly I'm going to predict this week's NFL action.

And why?
Well, for one, I'm pretty sure I told all of you that I'd do it. That's almost certainly the biggest reason. But the other ones are valid, too. Those are that there are two things currently on my mind right now. The first is how I woke up early at my hotel this morning so I could watch the Preliminary Final between Geelong and Collingwood, which went, uh, not according to plan. The other thing on my mind is how the train I'm on right now is going through Rhode Island, and I'm seeing nothing but gorgeous ocean shore houses that I will never be wealthy enough to own.

I don't want to think about either of those things, so blogging it is.

Of course, I should note that this train ride is still better than the one I took to Boston on Tuesday. That one was delayed for an hour before our train finally left Penn Station, broke down in Queens and got hauled back to Penn Station so we could board another train three hours and 40 minutes after we were originally expected to leave. Amazingly, the best part of that ride was finding out that the girl I was sitting next to works with someone I used to date. At least that I could laugh about.

In any event, I'm getting stunningly off topic. Before I continue, I want to make mention of my next major excursion -- which I'm almost obscenely excited about -- and that is this Sunday in Indianapolis, where the indomitable Dov Turner will join me to possibly tour the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, scour the Circle City for cheap parking, and attend the main attraction: Manning Bowl II. Yes, Eli and Peyton Manning will be going mano a mano Sunday night on national TV, but instead of relying on my cable carrier to bring me the action, I've decided to pay way too much over face value to watch from the nosebleeds of Lucas Oil Stadium.

And more excited I could not be.

This will make the Indianapolis Colts team No. 35 in my quixotic quest to do nothing constructive with my life whatsoever. In addition to the attention that comes with Manning vs. Manning, this is also the Colts' 2010 home opener, which means during the pregame they'll be raising their 2009 AFC Champions banner, and while it isn't the banner they wanted in the rafters, the experience will still be one of the cooler visits I've made. Also, that stadium looks fucking awesome.

I can't get to Indianapolis soon enough -- which is as unusual a statement as I'll ever make -- but the wait, unfortunately, will seem longer than normal. Because Yom Kippur starts tonight at sundown, I'll be spending the 24 hours prior to my trip reflecting, counting down the minutes and, well, not eating.

Perhaps I can also spend the day pondering just which of my predictions is about to go wrong. And speaking of which, here are the picks:

Last week: 6-8-2
Season: 6-8-2

NY Giants (+4.5) over INDIANAPOLIS
ATLANTA (-6.5) over Arizona
Baltimore (-2.5) over CINCINNATI
Kansas City (+2) over CLEVELAND
DALLAS (-7) over Chicago
DETROIT (+6) over Philadelphia
GREEN BAY (-12.5) over Buffalo
TENNESSEE (-5) over Pittsburgh
MINNESOTA (-5.5) over Miami
CAROLINA (-3.5) over Tampa Bay
DENVER (-3.5) over Seattle
St. Louis (+3.5) over OAKLAND **
NY JETS (+3) over New England
SAN DIEGO (-7) over Jacksonville
Houston (-3) over WASHINGTON
New Orleans (-5.5) over SAN FRANCISCO

And there you have it. Which of these will I get wrong? Well that's all up for the fates to decide. That is why the play the games after all.

I'll check in again once I'm back from Indy on Monday. In the meantime have a good weekend, and for those of you observing, an easy fast.

**See last week's prediction for Cleveland against Tampa Bay.

NFL Picks Week 1: Justifying Ineptitude With An Elementary Gambling Lesson

Happy first day of football season everyone! Yes, tonight is the big night the Vikings and Saints kickoff the 2010 NFL campaign with a rematch of last year's NFC Championship and I, for one, could not be any more excited. For those of you who used to read my old, horrendous Xanga from about six years ago, you know that I have an awful tendency to show how inept I am at predicting football games by making NFL picks every week and then tabulating my record for the course of the season.

This is a terrible idea.

Vegas, you see, sets the lines. And Vegas is awfully good at splitting the action. People often misunderstand the concept behind a Vegas betting line and assume that when the Giants are favored over the Panthers by, say, seven points, which they are this week, that it is an assumption that the Giants are a touchdown better than Carolina and should win by that amount. But in actuality that's not the case. The purpose of a betting line isn't to provide a more-than-likely prediction for the end result of each of Sunday's games. The point is to split the action.

Vegas isn't trying to give you an indication of how much better one team is than the other with any certainty. They're trying to create a situation in which half of the population believes Team A will win by X or more points and the other half of the population believes it will win by X or fewer points. So, really, the Giants aren't likely to win by seven points or more on Sunday. Half of the population just thinks they will.

Of course, half of the population thinks they won't. So, really, it's a 50/50 shot either way, which means that picking any game, with any certainty, at least at the pro-level, is more or less a coin flip.

Now of course there are betting strategies that enable you a better than 50% chance at making money, and various parlays that can help you reap a profit on a more likely scenario than a standard betting line, but for those of us who can't be bothered to really investigate betting with any real intensity or who simply don't care enough to do so, like myself, it is really, really, really unlikely that you're going to do better than 50% over the course of 256 regular season games by any margin that is statistically significant.

And yet, I still make these picks every week, just to open myself to unnecessary criticism. With tendencies like that, it's a wonder I haven't decided to get into politics yet.

So, now that I've prepared you for the explanation of why I'm inevitably going to be wrong nearly half the time this season, I think it's time to talk about all the big games this week, particularly the biggest footy match of them all, the semifinal between Geelong and Fremantle that bounces tomorrow morning at 5:30 ET. After last week's gut-wrenching loss to St. Kilda, the Cats face a win-or-go-home matchup with the upstart Dockers that could send them home or send them one step from another Grand Final appearance.

After a shoddy performance last week, much of the hope lies with young Joel Selwood, who wears the best number in the world, coming back into form and hopefully putting the Cats back on track for a potential showdown with Collingwood next weekend. It hasn't helped that coach Mark Thompson has had to fend off speculation all week that he'll leave Geelong for his old stomping grounds of Essendon, but after an emphatic "No" this week, hopefully that has been put to rest ahead of the biggest match of the year.

Still with me? Probably not. If you are, however, tune into ESPN3.com tomorrow morning when you wake up to watch some breakneck footy.

And now time for my NFL picks -- that is to say, the football you actually care about. Lines are accurate according to ESPN.com as of Thursday morning.

Last Week: 0-0-0
Season: 0-0-0

NEW ORLEANS (-6) over Minnesota
NY GIANTS (-7) over Carolina
Miami (-3) over BUFFALO
Detroit (+3.5) over CHICAGO
TENNESSEE (-6.5) over Oakland
NEW ENGLAND (-4.5) over Cincinnati
Atlanta (+2.5) over PITTSBURGH
TAMPA BAY (-3) over Cleveland **
JACKSONVILLE (-3) over Denver
Indianapolis (-2.5) over HOUSTON
Arizona (-4) over ST. LOUIS
Green Bay (+3.5) over PHILADELPHIA
San Francisco (+3) over SEATTLE
Dallas (-3.5) over WASHINGTON
NY JETS (-2.5) over Baltimore
SAN DIEGO (-5) over Kansas City

**If it were possible for both teams to lose against the spread, that would be my pick.

And there you have it, kids. My almost certain to be completely right in every way predictions for Week 1 of the NFL season. Get ready for the excitement. Kickoff is just nine and a half hours away.

The Triumphant Return From the West

If any of you spoke to me in my zombie ramblings yesterday and thought I seemed a bit out of it, that probably has something to do with me having gotten very few hours of sleep thanks to two insufferable crying children on my redeye back from Los Angeles Wednesday night. The true shame of this comes from Virgin America's low mood music and deep, soft purple lighting, which should knock anyone on the plane out in fairly short order. But they simply didn't account for parents who are disinterested in calming down their children now did they?

Of course not.

Well, it's a day later, I'm refreshed, and there's much to discuss over here in Kalanville. Perhaps it would seem prescient to start with the obvious, which is that the1920s gold prospector from Chicago you see in the top right corner smoking a cigar with me got married this past weekend.

It really just looks like a standard tuxedo until you include the pocket watches. They take them to a whole new level.

So, I suppose my brother's wedding was probably the most important thing I did in my third trip to the west coast in the past five weeks, but don't worry, there's actually plenty that was relevant to this blog that happened, too. My sister and I decided that following this wedding would be a perfect time to make a drive down the coast from San Francisco to Los Angeles, which for her purposes meant beautiful scenery and the chance to see her friend Lily. For mine it meant the chance to visit one of my favorite Stadiums -- AT&T Park -- and the chance to see a new one -- Dodger Stadium.

Some of you may recall my brutal near-miss in my attempt to see Dodger Stadium in July following my weekend trip to the San Diego Comic-Con. This time no force on heaven or Earth was going to stop me, which I'm sure caused my sister more than a little anxiety as I sped wrecklessly on I-10 East in Los Angeles.

I would have been on time for the game, too, were it not for the obnoxiously long line to pay for parking.

No matter. We got the game in and despite the lack of excitement from the action on the field Wednesday as the Phillies knocked off the Dodgers, it was still a lot of fun to see a new building, which, while not my favorite, has a lot to like about it nonetheless, namely it's color scheme which looks just how you'd expect a building from 1962 to look, and the beautiful view in the outfield. When I give this jaunt the full written rundown I'll give much more insight into its delightful antiquated charm, and moreover, despite the claims of one Evan Hung, the Dodger dogs are actually pretty decent.

Don't worry, Evan. San Francisco still has its superior garlic fries.

In fact, the garlic fries are extremely necessary since San Francisco, for some reason I can't possibly explain, irrationally relishes the fact that it is always mid-fall and chilly in that city. Aside from being a kind of bizarre place, I'd actually rather like the City by the Bay were it not for every day feeling like October 24th there. Monday night when we attended a Giants-Rockies game that had me frustrated for not starting Jonathan Sanchez on my fantasy team the same night I saw him throw eight-plus shutout innings in person until the Giants lost in spectacular fashion in the ninth inning, it was somewhere between cool and freezing. My sister was prepared with a scarf and later bought a knit hat for the occasion, I came with a long-sleeved shirt and jacket, and all of my Bay Area cohorts came layered, including Stacy who had gloves with her just in case it was particularly nippy.

It was August. Late August is still August.

In any event, the trip was a good one had by all, and I now get to enjoy a whole 12 days in New York before I head to Boston on Sept. 14 and then go to my next new sporting venue, Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, for the Manning Bowl on Sept. 19.

Wahoo.

Speaking of the Giants, with the season getting underway for Big Blue on Sept. 12, I made sure to have my tickets earlier today for the first regular season game ever held at the Giants and Jets brand-spankin'-new and totally necessary Meadowlands Stadium. I won't know for sure until they arrive, but I'm hopeful the tickets will be the fancy shmancy laminated commemorative ones that most season ticket holders are getting.

Getting those tickets was a nice uplift after seeing (Warning: Dave is about to talk Aussie Rules Football) Geelong play well beneath its abilities for most of Friday's Qualifying Final with last year's Grand Final opponent St. Kilda. The loss was a particularly brutal one as a questionable foul with 61 seconds left nullified what would have been a game-winning goal by captain Cameron Ling, the huffing-puffing fire-headed chap you see to the left.

This doesn't end the Cats' hunt for a fourth Grand Final trip in as many seasons and a third premiership in that span, but it doesn't make it easier. With a win Geelong would have gotten two weeks off until a win-or-go home Preliminary Final with a berth in the big game at the end on the line. Instead the Cats will have to win a match this weekend against either Fremantle or Hawthorn (which famously upset Geelong in the 2008 Grand Final) to reach the semis.

Then again, as a fan of the Mets (who have to deal with being attached to Snooki), the Giants (who never make it easy), the Devils (who apparently need six weeks to sign a free agent), Northwestern (which wears purple), Southampton FC (relegated twice this decade) and the Knicks (Do I need to explain this one?), I'm used to taking the long road to victory. And with Northwestern opening its season tomorrow night against Vanderbilt, I'll get a quick reminder on how long a season can be if the Wildcats get upset by the 'Dores.

But since I don't cross the Mississippi again for two and a half months, at least I won't have to deal with jetlag by the time I experience that collapse.

Right?

Go West, Young Man. Again.

Some of you might have noticed that my updates have been somewhat sparse lately, and I will plead your forgiveness by offering a few reasons why. You see, the month of August 2010 has been particularly busy for me, with work, weddings and travel galore. Also, the downtrodden Mets have left me with little to be excited about in sports beyond the start of Southampton's League One season and the run up to the Aussie Rules Football Finals, which Geelong should figure to impact rather heavily.

But y'all cats aren't necessarily interested in all that, though perhaps the coming start of Northwestern's college football season might excite you. Or maybe not. I'm sure my four readers would feign interest while I rambled about the Cats' prospects at a surprise Big Ten title or my Geelong Cats' prospects of a third premiership in four years, but I wouldn't want to make hypocrites out of all of you.

In any event, I will come clean and tell you all why this month has been so busy, and essentially, I will revolve it around my zany trip to San Diego to see the annual Comic-Con, and a trip I made two weeks ago to see my friends Dave and Caitlin tie the knot in Portland, Oregon. This would be the same Dave with whom I saw that magic moment for Ken Griffey Jr. last June. In between all of those events I've been juggling a typical work schedule, the precipitous downfall of my Mets, the impending start of the season for my Giants, the fact that Ilya Kovalchuk somehow still isn't under a contract that passes muster and my brother's impending nuptials this Sunday.

See how I slipped that in there? Eh? Eh?

That, my friends, is what we call burying the lead. Burying it after the jump is equally as bad, but you've got to entice the reader to keep on reading no?

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Elliott, Emmy-winning comedy writer, terrible movie enthusiast and newly minted comic book author, is getting hitched to his fiancee Danielle this Sunday in Sonoma, California, which means, I have to book it to the airport tomorrow morning for a flight to San Francisco that will mark my third trip across the country in five weeks.

Yep. That's right. The third time in five weeks.

Fortunately, this is no longer the era of covered wagons like you see to the left here, so my accommodations -- the newfangled "airplane" -- will get me to San Francisco in at least half the time.

Now, surely none of you really care all that much about my travel plans to my brother's wedding, beyond offerings of congratulations and curiosity over just how big a disaster my best man speech is going to be, but here's why it matters for this space. There will be baseball. West Coast Baseball. The Mets would not exist were it not for the California-bound relocation of the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers half a century ago, and because the actual Mets are, well, terrible right now, I will instead scope out the forbears of my favorite team who are much better than terrible and actually even in contention for what they call "a playoff berth".

We Mets fans may be unfamiliar with that concept these days, but I assure all of you, it actually exists.

And so, because I will be on the left coast, my sister, I, and a few assorted others will be attending this Monday's Giants-Rockies game at AT&T Park, and while this will not be a new experience for me -- I've been there twice -- it just may be my favorite. Two days later, if we can wake ourselves early enough to make the drive from San Luis Obispo, we will be in Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles to, at long last, knock the second oldest park in the National League off of my list. I'm awfully excited about the prospect.

Oh yeah. And my brother's getting married. That's pretty exciting, too. One of my best friends in college, Luisa Badaracco of my venture to Fenway and TD Garden fame, was at her sister's wedding three years ago when Clay Buchholz threw a no-hitter in his second career start for her Boston Red Sox. Will history repeat itself for my brother Sunday as the historically pitching-rich Mets finally get their first no-no? Well, the odds are a little slim, though this isn't the most unlikely thing I've banked on -- in High School I once told a teacher I'd have to miss a club meeting because I had Mets tickets and I liked their chances for a Perfect Game against the hapless Orioles. The Mets probable starter is R.A. Dickey, who already has a one-hitter under his belt in a surprising knuckleballing season that has him stunningly in the top ten of the NL's ERA chase. His foe -- the equally as hapless Houston Astros in the pitcher's haven of Citi Field.

The stars are aligned. You can pretty much take it to the bank.

On one last note, it was revealed this week whom the Mets will be visiting in 2011 for interleague play, which is always of great interest to me as I look to strike down stadiums on my quest. Despite much hub-bub that the Amazins would be visiting Minnesota's new Target Field, they will in fact be visiting Rangers Ballpark at Arlington and Comerica Park in Detroit. While I have already been to Comerica Park, the Texas Rangers are new on the list. Who's up for a road trip?

And that's all the news that's fit to print and a whole lot more that isn't in these parts. California beckons tomorrow, again, and the Kalan family will be changed forever. If I can keep my eyes open after crisscrossing the U.S. one last time this month, I'll be sure to tell you all about it next week.

Some Birthday Irony

I, some of you may have noticed, rather like sports. Like a lot. You probably should notice that since that's more or less the entire point of this blog.

Regardless, one might imagine that there is little I would enjoy more on a day I can make entirely about me than watching sports. Makes sense, right? Well, today, as it is my 25th birthday, is that day. In past years I've spent my birthday watching the Home Run Derby, the All-Star Game or attending a Mets game if they happen to be home.

In the world of amateur and professional sports I follow, in no particular order, the following teams:
New York Mets
New York Giants
New Jersey Devils
Chicago Blackhawks
New York Knicks
Northwestern Wildcats
Florida State Seminoles
Southampton FC
Geelong FC

So knowing that I pay so much attention to so many organizations, it seems more than a wee bit odd that this year my birthday happens to fall on the one completely dark day of the North American sports calendar. That's right everyone, the day after the MLB All-Star Game, every year is the only day on the entire calendar in which no regular or postseason games are played in the MLB, NFL, NHL or NBA.

Not a one.

It seems bizarre to me that on my birthday I won't get to watch any sporting events -- though the picturesque vistas of this year's Tour de France will have to do for now, but perhaps that's a good thing. Now nothing will be able to distract me when I'm having my celebratory dinner here tonight.

That's right. The joke's on them.

18 Hours Until Geelong's First Bounce

I preface this entry with the warning that 99% will probably not care at all about most of what I write about. Don't worry, there's some basketball later. But sometimes you have to do some things for yourself. You know, artistically. So here we go.

Perhaps one of the biggest highlights of my recent jaunt to Israel was a chance encounter with a group of Australian teenagers at our hostel in Jerusalem. No, not that kind of chance encounter. This was a collection of 18-year-old men who hailed from Sydney, and what made the meeting so exciting for me is that it provided a rare opportunity to talk football.

Not this kind of football, or this kind of football. And, uh, certainly not this kind of football.

I'm talking about footy, AFL, Aussie Rules. This kind of football.

I've made mention before of my affection for the Geelong Cats, and I always enjoy the rare chances to talk shop with a native Aussie or any other AFL fan. I'm far from an expert on the game, but in a year or so I've picked up my fair amount of history, and in this case, given that I had just had one of my rare opportunities to use a computer 15 minutes earlier, I actually had the upperhand knowing Western Bulldogs had knocked off St. Kilda in the final of the NAB Cup, a preseason NIT of sorts for the AFL.

Happy to deliver the news we riffed about Gary Ablett and Leo Barry, names that you surely have never heard of before, and both of us compared our own joy over sportsfandom triumphs, in my case Super Bowl XLII, in his Sydney's nail-biting win over West Coast in the 2005 Grand Final, ending a 72-year title drought for the Swannies.


My favorite moment probably came when he asked me if Tom Brady was a huge celebrity in America. I suppose I would have sounded just as silly if I queried about the Australian popularity of Nick Riewoldt.

It wasn't all positive. Sydney has dealt Geelong a heartbreak or two, including one particularly brutal loss in the 2005 Qualifying Final, when the mercurial Nick Davis scored four unanswered goals in the final quarter. But I chose not to bring it up because a) I wasn't watching footy yet when that happened, and b) I was having too much fun just talking footy at all.

I mention this because, as I'm sure you all know, Geelong opens its 2010 campaign tomorrow at the bright and early hour of 4:40 a.m. ET against the Essendon Bombers. Now, surely I would be crazy to wake up early enough to watch this showdown at the Melbourne Cricket Ground, but I never claimed to be sane, and I will be in front of the computer with my navy and white hoops on. If anyone wants to come over to watch the excitement, let me know. There will be beer. And chips.

Surely you're all wondering how you can watch tomorrow. While AFL was dropped from its contract with the premium channel Setanta Sports a year ago, ESPN360.com, or as it will be known next month, ESPN3.com, is showing several live matches every weekend, while ESPN2 will have a few live matches throughout the summer, as well as a live broadcast of the 2010 Grand Final on September 25th.



My Cats are defending champions, as some of you may recall, after topping St. Kilda in a thrilling Grand Final last fall. They're coming off their second premiership in three years and third straight appearance in the AFL's championship match, but there are many issues the team is sorting through as the season begins. For starters, tomorrow's game will be the 200th in the Geelong career of Joel Corey, a man responsible for one of the biggest plays in Geelong history as you can see above. Other topics concern whether or not the young Tom Hawkins is due to break out and become a start, how the team will manage in its first year without captain Tom Harley, who retired this offseason and the always tense saga of whether or not Ablett, last year's Brownlow Medalist and considered by many to be the best in the game, will leave Geelong for a lucrative offer with upstart Gold Coast, which begins play as the AFL's 17th franchise next year. The potential distraction, as well as the aging roster even has some of the Cats players thinking this will be their last chance before the window of opportunity closes to take another title.

So basically, yeah, there's a lot to talk about. Get excited. If you can't be bothered to watch online, your first chance to see footy on ESPN2 comes in 15 weeks when Geelong faces Hawthorn, who no doubt will be looking for revenge after essentially getting knocked out of the playoff race by the Cats a season ago when Geelong overcame a 35-point deficit to knock off the Hawks.

Get excited.

Oh yeah, basketball. That NCAA Tournament thing starts again today, and while I will be watching, I'll mostly be rooting for Cornell to knock off Kentucky, thereby ensuring that none of my Final Four teams make it to the Elite Eight and clinching my worst bracket ever. To be honest, at this point I'm far more interested with seeing if the Nets can win one more game (they defeated the Kings last night) to stave off the sole position as the worst team in NBA history. I feel that if Kentucky does, in fact lose to Cornell today, John Calipari, who ironically never had a team this bad when he coached the Nets, will probably take it with more grace than Nets CEO Brett Yormark.

Say what you will about how mismanaged the Knicks were under Isiah Thomas, and don't get me wrong, they were about as mismanaged as a professional sports franchise can be, but at least Bert and I weren't given no guff when we donned our own paper bags a few years ago. With your team chasing the title of "Not the worst team of all time" perhaps it might be wise to avoid an acrimonious relationship with your fan base. After all, you never know when they'll start protesting that you have a job.

Stay Classy, New Jersey.