I like the way you freckle
I like the way you peel
I love to see your hair in a mess
It's been a long September
It's gonna be a long winter
Let me help you out of that dress
Before you catch a cold
Chuck Prophet - "Freckle Song"
I got up this morning at 4:30 am to drive my girlfriend to work and I found the car was covered in a slowly thickening film of ice. Twelve hours ago, we were enjoying a 60 degree day in New England and now we're plunged back into the Ice Age. Oh, I had innocently thought the snow had melted and we were moving in the right direction on the global thermostat, but when I was driving back from Boston on 93N I knew that we had not seen the last traces of snow. The snow was so close to melting, and now we've received another diabolical inch or two of the white stuff to crush the soul. (Historically, Massachusetts enjoys two 60 degree days in the month of March. After this weekend, we're done.)
You might ask, what is the big deal? Let me give you some perspective on the matter; one drip of water on your forehead doesn't hurt, but if you're a victim of the dreaded Chinese Water Torture one drop leads to another, which leads to another and then another. Capice?
The snow won't go away. It was sixty degrees over the weekend - college kids were wearing flip flops. And now we're back to scraping the car, shoveling the snow, taking off your boots, wearing wool socks, watching out for black ice, don't step in that six inch puddle of glacial ice, beware the Yeti and here comes the Iditarod dog sled race.
I'm done. Snow is pretty until it turns dingy and gray from automobile exhaust. Snow is magical, but not after cabin fever has been vanquished and you're thinking about reading a book and enjoying a beer on the deck. I've already started intensive abdomenal work for the beach season, with my Ab Roller, and this is the crap I have to deal with. I am ready to put away the snow shovel and pick up my baseball glove, but the cruel New England winter just won't allow that to happen.
Weekend Warrior Musings
I look forward to few things in life because a snowstorm is always there to burst my hopes, but even a crappy winter's day in New England can't ruin my enjoyment of Sunday afternoon's college basketball matchup between Duke and North Carolina. The two regular season games, between these bitter rivals, make the college basketball season for me. I used to love Duke - now, I just like Duke. I used to hate North Carolina - I still hate Carolina.
I can't stand the gentile Carolina blue worn by UNC's entitled fans. I can't stand that Dean Smith is applauded for the invention of the Four Corners, which was a basketball abomination. I can't stand that Michael Jordan was in attendance at the Dean Dome cheering on his beloved Tar Heels, when he should be showing the same zeal as general manager for his slowly improving Charlotte Bobcats. (It doesn't appear that Michael Jordan will ever win Executive of the Year in the NBA or that hockey legend Wayne Gretzky will ever win Coach of the Year in the NHL.)
North Carolina's 79-71 triumph over Duke makes me think Coach K should get his suitcase out of storage and start racking up Frequent Flyer mileage to get some kids who can beat the Tar Heels. Duke's collection of suburban three-point shooters are not going to cut it versus the Tar Heels. Coach K needs to find a few more athletes, like his own Gerald Henderson, to win at the Dean Dome. Of course, the fraternity of Caucasian college basketball broadcasters love Dukies like Greg Paulus, Jon Scheyer, Kyle Singler and Brian Zoubek. But in recent years, Duke has struggled to attract players such as Gerald Henderson to its program. Greg Paulus started for three years at point guard and now he's on the junk heap at Duke - that's a tough way to treat a senior.
Bobby Hurley wannabe?
Duke alum, Jeff Capel, has done an outstanding job at Oklahoma. Unlike Duke assistant coaches Chris Collins and Steve "Wojo" Wojciechowksi, he cut the Coach K apron strings. Coach K's son-in-law, Chris Spatola, is the director of basketball operations. As we all know, nepotism always guarantees continued success.
(Editor's Note: Wojo is my all-time favorite Dukie.)
Stephen Curry's Davidson squad does not deserve an at-large bid from the NCAA Politburo Men's Basketball Selection Committee.
Wake Forest is a team to watch. They are loaded, and with the right bracket, could easily make the Final Four.
If you want to impress friends and co-workers, St. Mary's is this year's Davidson. With the return of the Down Under sophomore sensation, Patty Mills, from a broken right hand, look for tonight's West Coast Conference championship game versus Gonzaga to be a donnybrook. When healthy, Mills is the best point guard in the nation.
Don't believe the hype about the Zags.
World Baseball Classic
As much as I think the World Baseball Classic is a joke, I love the hardball. I'm a baseball junky and the WBC (not the crooked South American Boxing commission) nourishes my hunger. The WBC has a host of problems; from pitch counts, lack of player participation, teams flying all over the world to play each other, a single elimination format for the semi-finals and championship game, and ugly-ass uniforms, but I can't get enough it.
After driving my girlfriend to work this morning, I came home and hunkered down in front of the television to watch South Korea take on Japan at the Tokyo Dome. South Korea defeated defending champion Japan, 1-0, and finished first in Pool A. If you're a devotee of the infield fly rule, who has braved a long New England winter, this game was Nirvana.
Observation: There are a lot of players named Kim and Lee on the Korean and Chinese teams, but I find the Caucasian players on Team Canada are hard to recognize because they all look alike.
Watching the USA beat Canada and Venezuela, the USA's starting pitching is suspect. Jake Peavy versus Canada, and Roy Oswalt facing Venezuela, were less than world beaters in their respective starts.
It's tough watching The Captain, Derek Jeter, and Jimmy Rollins split time at shortstop. You want both of these guys in the lineup. ESPN's announcer, Rick Sutcliffe, thought Jeter would start the second game of the tournament for Team USA versus Venezuela, because he was locked in during his start against Canada in Game 1. Team USA's manager, Davey Johnson, gave the start to J Roll in Game 2 versus Venezuela. Rollins was on fire at the plate Sunday night, which prompted Sutcliffe to criticize Johnson's decision to remove Rollins after his third at-bat, and replace him with Jeter. (Rick, you can't have it both ways.)
It's apparent Sutcliffe has done a ton of research to prepare for the WBC. He watched Cuba crush South Africa and made this comment. (I am paraphrasing.) : Cuba is the real deal. I don't know their names, but they're good.
Designated Dictator Fidel Castro
Tim Lincecum's commercial for MLB 2K reminds me of how he's not pitching for the USA. Before anyone thinks I'm unfairly picking on Lincecum, where is Josh Beckett, Jon Lester and Jonathan Papelbon?
Kevin Youkilis demonstrated his discipline at the plate against Venezuela, with an 11-pitch at-bat, which culminated in a HR.
USA outfielder Adam Dunn is Bo Diaz slow. With Ryan Braun and Adam Dunn manning the corner outfield positions, Team USA resembles a beer league softball team in the outfield.
Ivy League-educated, Mark DeRosa, is lighting a fire under Team USA. You have to love the way this guy plays and this clearly is a nice pick up for the Tribe.
Quote of the Weekend
During Friday night's Celtics victory over the Cleveland Cavaliers, Celtics announcer Tommy Heinsohn made this unbiased comment after watching Boston's Glen "Big Baby" Davis nearly decapitate Cleveland's Anderson Varejao with a Flagrant 2 foul.
"He got ball!"
Big Baby was ejected from the game.
Chuck Prophet with "Freckle Song"
