Pothole-Gate

I've had to give myself a few days to allow the (asphalt) dust to settle from Sunday's epic Daytona 500. A race where I watched the first 15 laps, took my wife out for a Valentines Day meal, movie, a little shopping, wrote our memoirs, filed our taxes and came close to securing World Peace, ALL in enough time to catch the 25++ lap shootout to finish the race.

The Good: I don't mind the green-white-checkered multiple overtime conspira...uhhh...I mean finish. Especially on a restrictor-plate track, you have to allow for a race to the checkered flag. The competition put butts in the seat. Make the fans happy.

Now, on to the story that isn't the story. Four feet of dislodged asphalt has gotten covered up more than the Zapruder film, Area 51 and the S&M midget hiding in Tiger's closet combined. I kept waiting for the "Outside the Lines" episode on how a track could CEASE TO BE A TRACK in the middle of a race. Nothing. Instead of the lead story 'Jamie McMurray wins, but track fails,' we got 'Jamie McMurray wins (cricket, cricket).'

Look, I get it. The race finished, most drivers were spared and the fans in the stands were treated to an additional two hours of Budwesier, but where is the outcry?

In my lifetime, Sunday's pothole-gate ranks second in terms of track failure only to the Formula 1 tire debacle at Indy in 2005. That was inexcusable, and I still am waiting for a new set of Michelins to arrive. The pothole easily seems more egregious of an error than the 9-lap parade circuit NASCAR pulled at the 2008 Brickyard 400. And the cancellation of the 2001 CART Firehawk 600 at Texas Motor Speedway was nothing compared to this.

But, in all three of those other recent PR disasters, the end result was that: A Disaster. F1 hasn't been relevant in the US since then. CART circled the drain soon after. Granted, the vultures were already circling in these two particular instances, but how can the Super Bowl of stock car racing get a free pass? What would be similar on a comparison basis:

The 2010 Super Bowl is delayed 2 hours because Pete Townshend does so many windmills on his guitar at halftime that it blows down the goal posts, ripping a huge chunk of sod out of the back of the endzone. How do you cover that up? Just show the people two hours worth of commercials with half-naked men in them. Either that, or kick it down to Shannon Sharpe and have him read tongue-twisters while consuming an entire box of saltine crackers.

The World Series is delayed because of snow (oh wait)

The Masters gets a special visitor.

The NBA Finals endures a 30-minute delay because the officials and players have a high-stakes poker game taking place in the tunnel

Fantasy or not, it just boggles my mind that this seemingly innocent little pothole hasn't garnered the attention this week. It shouldn't take away from the results, because the finish was wonderful, complete with Dale (NASCAR is now desperate for me to win) Jr. finding 7th gear and a rocket engine on the last lap. Honestly, if you watched the race, you were wondering the same thing. Where was the nitrous canister hidden? Was David Hasslehoff driving KITT by that point?

Actually, think of how cool the conspiracy theories would have been if McMurray's car blew up like the red car. But seriously, Jr. had to finish 2nd, just so his car could conveniently avoid the post-race inspection.

Well, welcome to the world of winter, Daytona. put some thicker tires on and dodge like most of America.

Who needs CDs, iPods or even the FM band?

I'll get to NASCAR later (because, honestly, it is the story from the weekend), but first I must provide a little play-by-play from my weekend. The Horizon League Network GOTW was in Cleveland on Saturday, which meant a round-trip of roughly 10 hours driving between Friday and Saturday. I hopped in the car around 4:00 in Indy and made a pact with myself: I would only listen to sports-talk radio for the entire duration of my drive. The highlights:

4:30 Friday: News of the tragic death of the luger from Georgia (the country, not the state; sadly, you have to differentiate that more times to the average American) had begun to fill the airwaves. In Indy, the are-their-contracts-up-yet duo of Kravitz and Eddie discussed it for about 2 minutes, long enough for Eddie to claim that the Georgians were pulling out of the Olympics. Way to jump the gun on that one. Not only did they march in the opening ceremonies that night, but all but the other luger participated in their fallen countryman's honor. This just in: 1070, The Fan is now reporting that Lindsay Vonn has replaced the skin on her shin with an odorless piece of brie.

4:45 Friday: Quick switch from the fantasy reports on 1070 to Mark Patrick on 1260, who was interviewing Mike DeCourcy from the Sporting News. Texas to the Big Ten makes so much sense from a $$$ standpoint. It was an interesting conversation, until I kept thinking about it being TEXAS. Call it the mid-major homer in me, but do you see Penn State women's field hockey hopping a private charter out of Happy Valley in order to get to Austin. The geography of this hypothetical makes almost as much sense as Southern Utah and Oakland (MI) being in the same conference. Or San Diego and Dayton in a football conference. Wait a second...

Ladies and Gentlemen: Your 2011-2000-infinity Big Ten football champions: The Texas Longhorns

Can the Big Ten file suit for the Big 12 name if they technically get to 12 teams and the Big 12 falls to 11?

Will the Big Ten logo have to change so that the number 11 isn't prominent in the font? Could you imagine? You have 12 teams, your name is the number 10, and references the number 11. Thank God it's a conference based on strong academic institutions.

5:45 Friday: After a 10-mile dead zone at the Indiana-Ohio border, I pick up ESPN radio, where Freddie Coleman was hosting the Doug Gotleib show, because Doug was hosting the Colin Cowherd Show. Yep, I was confused too. When the show is the name of somebody else, do we have to still call it that when somebody else is hosting? I like Freddie. He's got good takes, and you have to admire a man in sports-talk radio who has a bit of speech problem (kind of a mumbler) because it takes stones to knock out a show.

6:45 - Called it a night in Columbus because, well, sports talk was taking a back seat for Blues hockey. Nope. That, and I had reached my stopping point.

8:30 a.m. Saturday - Up and on I-71 to Cleveland. Eric Kuselias has his own ESPN national show on Saturday mornings, which disappoints me. Not because I don't like him, but because I think his job is awesome without a scheduled slot. He is the Lenny Harris of sports broadcasting. No Mike or Mike. Boom, Kuselias. Colin Cowherd has an appearance: Wham, Kuselias.

He had a good show, but I can't remember anything of substance right now. I was tired.

9:15 a.m. Saturday - In range of Cleveland and picked up their ESPN affiliate, with their own local morning show. "Amare Stoudamire could be a Cleveland Cavalier according to new reports in the Cleveland Plain Dealer and ESPN. He is at the top of the Cavs discussions right now. Callers, we want to hear from you."

10:15 - Amare

10:45 - Amare

11:00 - New show. Guy with an opinion about Amare

11:05 - By the time I roll into the parking lot of the Wolstein Center, I have formed this opinion of Amare and a few players from the Cavs: Amare is an All-Star who plays above the rim who can shoot from 15-18 sometimes, but sometimes misses too much. He would be a good/bad fit with LeBron. He would or would not sign a long-term extension. He is the best/worst option on the trade market for him. If there was a drinking game for the mention of Amare's name, all of NE Ohio would be in rehab this morning. Oh, and JJ Hickson (the young piece likely in return) is either Jesus or the most overrated prospect since Nikoloz Tskitishvili.

After all of that, I was ready to talk

4:30 p.m. Saturday - Back in the car for the 5 hour marathon home to Indy. ESPN national feed on right now. Freddie Coleman again, this time with John Clayton. Breaking down needs of Saints and Colts (this surprisingly takes a lot less time than the Rams and Bucs). Tease: Going to talk college hoops at the top of the hour.

5:00 Saturday - Ready for my college hoops lecture, Cleveland ESPN radio goes local, leading up to minor-league hockey. What could these guys possibly discuss? Hey, did you know Amare Stoudamire might get traded to the Cavs. Fans, let's hear from you. By this point, I am hoping that the Cavs whiff on Amare and trade Hickson-Jesus and a Danny Ferry lifespan of #1 picks to the Pacers for Troy Murphy, TJ Ford and Jamaal Tinsley's Bentley.

6:15 Saturday - Hello Columbus. Thank you for dedicating yourself to ESPN national programming. NBA Draft Saturday Night coverage. Wait, you can cover that on radio? This I have to hear. To start, a gang-bang interview feature with every All-Star. Actually, it made for good radio.

7:00 Saturday - I got a 45-minute window in/around Dayton to pick up the Wright State-Green Bay game. Chris Collins has swallowed enough gravel to be the ultimate radio pbp voice. His partner, Raider legend Bob Grote. Let me preface this by saying that I love homers; the analyst of a teams radio broadcast needs to be nauseatingly in favor of that team. Grote fits that bill. Calls players by their first name. Uses the term "we." It was great. Combine that with a delivery that I can only describe as a morph between a beer-loving New Englander and everybody's favorite, Joe Kines:

Needless to say, I was thoroughly entertained until the Tom Raper Richmond Triangle left me scrambling for a sports station as I hit the Indiana border.

8:30 Saturday - Back close enough to home to get ESPN radio again, and Jim Durham calling pbp for the Skills challenges. It was artful. How can anybody professionally paint a picture of Pau Gasol and Brent Barry heaving half-court shots, or Steve Nash bounce passing a ball through a ring? JD knocked it out.

And that carried me home. Hey it was that or 100 repetitions of Tik Tok by Keisha. Given the choice, I choose Amare. I hear he might be on the Cavs radar.

Will

The Hangover

After months of speculating and posturing to create this blog, the law office of Timbo and Willdo need to get this sucker moving. And what better time to start writing a blog about the wonders of sports than in the haze and fog left behind by football exiting our lives. August 8th (Hall of Fame game) can't get here soon enough!

[Okay, who am I kidding? The next real football game that really matters is Sept. 2nd when college football kicks off in South Carolina, among others. So. Miss and the Gamecocks. DVR set? Check!]

But here we are in the midst of February, spiraling out of control without football, and still over a month away from the exodus of winter: The NCAA Tournament & Masters; aka: Jim Nantz's awakening. So, how do we cope with the changed sport landscape?

Remember those rough mornings in college, when you woke up not questioning your activity from the night before, but rather questioning if your body was indeed human? As if you'd done everything to give yourself over-the-counter, liquid chemotherapy and your body was rejecting yourself? Then, a strange morose fell over you and while you lay perfectly still to keep the Energizer Bunny from coming to life in your temples and you finally realized why alcohol was labelled as a depressant. That is life after the Super Bowl.

But, like in college, you got past noon, found a piece of pizza left unguarded from the night before, took a little nap (unless you live in New Orleans and you since have moved on to greenies to keep the party going) and when the night rolled around, conveniently developed enough amnesia to crush a cold one. And another.

That first beer, my friends, is this weekend in sports. And, as a greater metaphor, the sports world in general. So, come with us on this incredible journey. This weekend, we can choose from the Winter Olympics, the Daytona 500 or NBA All-Star festivities. The irony in those events is that Dallas has seen more snow in the last 48 hours than Vancouver (Al Gore is smiling somewhere).

Too many opinions, and not enough space. I can't wait to break down curling (no seriously, I LOVE that sport for two weeks more than anything), or why I love Allen Iverson getting voted as a starter (despite now not being able to play). And I feel a debate coming on Monday about the merits of NASCAR with another writer on here.

Viva la Sports!

Will