fore...

somewhere between untimely deaths, some cat dad duties (the cat mom is off in PA for the weekend) and some pseudo-domestical-like refrigerator window shopping, my golf clubs showed up in Tucson courtesy of ma dukes...

fortunately, my mom didn't pack the slice...

detroit is still standing, gil, however, has fallen...

what do you do when your idols start disappearing two at a time?..

last week it was Randy "Macho Man" Savage. i didn't idolize Macho Man because of the eccentric style or the big elbow from the top rope nor the double axe-handle. Macho Man came with a style all of his own. he never asked you to be his fan, not once. you just were. i saw his first match in the WWE (then WWF) and was duly impressed, by his bravado and presence. in his second match he summoned all of the mangers from the time (Bobby Henin, Slick, Mr. Fuji et al) came down to watch Savage bombard Jose Luis Rivera over and over. i remember Gorilla Monsoon and Jesse "the Body" Ventura commenting that Savage was plying his wares to be picked up by one of the managers, but he chose none of them. He brought Elizabeth out his next time out. Sure, Elizabeth was attractive but that wasn't his point. his point is that he didn't need any help getting big, Savage was just going to get big...

tonight i find out that Gil-Scott Heron has died. for all of his faults and personal problems, Gil-Scott never stopped telling you like it was. he probably schooled somebody with his last breath. he was a unique talent that was marred by drug and alcohol dependency problems but he also gave us "Winter in America" an album that should be standard listening in any history class. a poet above poets and a man among musicians. i was introduced to Heron the way most are with "Whitey on the Moon" and "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" but it was a stroll into a lower east side record shop, when the lower east side still had record shops worth going to, and being introduced to a 11+ minute live jam of "The Bottle". i know that Gil-Scott has seen his share and then some, but when great spirits leave, its a little less full in this world. there is no replacing Gil-Scott or Randy they were originals and only a few of us truly understand the true beauty of the flawed, and tortured, because we are flawed and tortured ourselves...

i'm sorry, Gil. i'm sorry you never got the chance to see the revolution. but rest easy, your work is done, we'll take it from here...

Go to the Mirror, Boy!

the following is the unabridged version of a post I wrote on Flushing University concerning the New Yorker article on Fred Wilpon as well as a state of the franchise essay on the New york Mets...

Fred Wilpon is just like the rest of us.

Before anyone decides to go off half-cocked, read the story. Jose Reyes will not get Carl Crawford money, David Wright is not a superstar,Carlos Beltran is a lemon and And Ike Davis is a good hitter on a shitty team. Well, maybe we're not shitty. At 22-23 you can call the Mets a lot of things, but certainly not shitty.

There has been a lot of "the sky is falling" kind of talk around the New York Mets for most of the last bunch of years. but it seems to me the sky fell in October of 2006. The franchise hasn't yet recovered from the Adam Wainwright curve ball that shook Carlos Beltran's confidence and our confidence in him. I've said this before, as have thousands of other interested (and uninterested) observers.Like a drowning man grasping for the light above the water, subsequent signing haves deepened the wounds of that cold October night. Oliver Perez and Luis Castillo are the most notable of these errors. And the spectre of the Bernie Madoff Trustee civil suit lingers like the tell-tale heart in the foundation of Citi Field.

But this is not about the Madoff case, the lost money and the potential losses that would eventually remove the Wilpon family from their throne as owners of the New york Mets. This is not even about Irving Picard and Baker Hostetler, who stand to reap the benefits of a prolonged civil case due to the almost $1 billion in legal fees the firm has collected settling complaint after complaint. They will fight as long as the Wilpon's do because not to reap justice but to serve their own interests. Every billable hour is another hand in the Madoff Trust.

I digress.

This is about the reaction. The idea that Fred Wilpon is a terrible owner not because of his supposed mis-management, although he did principally hire Frank Cashen who oversaw the greatest era in Mets history and Steve Phillips who did a decent job himself building an era before he started to believe that he was smarter than Bobby Valentine. He also hired Omar Minaya who was a golden boy before Wainwright snapped his curve. So what's the beef? That he won't put money into this team? That he seems blase about the way the team has been managed and put together?

The man's company lost $500 million plus the day Madoff was arrested. It disappeared. That's roughly 230 % of what he is paying the 25 men and coaching staff on his major league roster this year. According to the sources in Jeffery Toobin's article, Sterling Enterprises is on the hook for close to a Billion in damages on top of that. I'm not defending the man, this is just how it is.

I'm sure opinions are across the board about the comments he made in one paragraph of a 10,000 word piece. Here's mine. He's right.

The sky has fallen and it couldn't get up, but if you are not encouraged by the what Wilpon's newest hire Sandy Alderson and his band of merry men JP Riccardi and Paul DePodesta have started here than you are already a lost cost. Perez an Castillo gone, there contracts will be gone too in four months. Contributors at Flushing University are all up in arms about the use of players like Willie Harris and Scott Hairston, but with Beltran and Jason Bay out to start the season and Angel Pagan, Davis and Wright all currently spending time on the disable list, just what is it that you expected. Johan Santana has been out since last year and bargain signing Chris Young has succumbed to injury as well, but this team has pitched fairly well, especially the bullpen since the reintroduction of Jason Isringhausen. There are no world beaters on that staff and to expect anything less is foolish. This is a .500 team and will be =/- 2 wins or losses in July when the real measure of this new management regime will come.

I trust that Alderson and his troops will draft well, there is just too much talent in that office not too. But the draft will be over and done by the middle of June and we'll wax poetic about the next guy who will make the jump to the majors as fast as Davis did. I'm referring to the July 31st trading deadline. While this team will finish better than the Washington Nationals, it simply can't compete with a Philadelphia Phillies who have a monster rotation and an offense about to get a whole lot better or the Atlanta Braves a team that is also better—good old Ted Turner knows how to own or even the Florida Marlins have enough starting pitching along with offense to keep hold of third place, so any talk of the Mets competing for a playoff spot is just that. It was back in March and it is now. Since the hiring of Alderson and the subsequent hiring of his staff, this has all been about July 31st.

The Mets will have approximately $35 million coming off their payroll with the expiration of the Perez, Castillo and Beltran contracts. Reyes' modest contract will also expire and the Mets are currently paying him $11 million. That's $46 million. There is the matter of Francisco Rodriguez and his 2012 option which I will elude to in a moment, but let's take him off the books as well at $11.5 million that's a grand total of $57.5 million that Alderson and his boys will have to spend more wisely.

The Wilpon's will finish a deal to sell off 20-25% of the franchise by Summer's end, and as the club is estimated to be worth over $1 billion let's call a potential sale of 20% $200 million. The sky fell, time to build a new sky.

Where to begin? Let's start with Mike Pelfrey, who has shown if nothing else, that he can throw innings. He may not be an ace or even a #3 starter but I think I can find a team a subway ride away that would take him off our hands for a couple of prospects, or maybe a guy like Austin Romine, who has shown great skills as a catcher. I'm sure Pelfrey could bring in two decent prospect from any contender and losing him doesn't hurt, we have Matt Harvey and Jeurys Familia mowing down hitters in the minors as I write this. Either one of them could take Pelfrey's place in the rotation.

Next there is Beltran, really he is the no brainer of the group, send him to the American League and get what you can. Why not pay the remaining salary and upgrade the prospect in return. I can think of three destinations where Beltran services of part-time outfielder and DH could come in handy. Namely, Boston, Tampa and Texas and why not throw Cleveland into the mix. Beltran has been maligned since the fall of 2006. Injuries have cut him in half, but he is clearly the best centerfielder this team has ever had, and when he has been healthy he has been our best player. His time is done, and while most Met fans will slam the door behind his departure, they will be sure to miss him.

Rodriguez is a tricky matter. He will be shopped and a bargained for. Most teams will hold the 2012 performance option over how heads to entice us to pay most of the contract or take lesser prospects. Take a bucket of balls just don't pay the $17.5. That will be a killer of an albatross going into the next off season.

I have written here and in other forums that Reyes should be traded. That his attitude and baseball acumen is overrated, but truth be told, I've seen the error of my ways. Citi Field is ideal for him. Reyes plays inside the walls, the bigger the walls the better. Whatever I wrote here is poppycock. Well, not entirely, but...

The tack to re-sign Reyes will be akin to a game of chicken. Its true, he is going to want Crawford money (7 years $142 million), and he is not worth Crawford money. Crawford is not worth Crawford money. So how do you talk a guy off a ledge? You let him experience what jumping is all about. There are four conceivable places for Reyes to go via free agency and get the kind of money he is looking to receive. The Yankees, which have their own problems finding a place for their aging Hall of Famers, adding Reyes doesn't seem like a particularly smart investment when they need pitching more than anything. the Red Sox already made their play with Crawford. Texas has Elvis Andrus which leaves the Los Angeles Angels of Anahiem. They have the means and the spot for Reyes. Alderson's job will be simple. Don't just make an offer to Reyes, let the market make the offer. Be up front with Jose and tell him we want you here, but we know that the idea of being a free agent is appealing and you should go out and see what's there, come back with what you find and we'll see where we are. Following that strategy the Mets will sign him for $15-16 million per season average over six or seven years.

As for Wright, we keep him because there is no alternative. There is no better player available at third base in the majors and there is no one in the minors to replace him. Bring the fence in left in and allow him and Bay to benefit. Second base is set with Justin Turner and Daniel Murphy and both give you options at the corner positions. Davis is fashioning himself for a spot alongside Casey Stengel, Gil Hodges, Tom Seaver and (most likely) Mike Piazza along with Jackie Robinson. He is the best parts of John Olerud and Keith Hernandez and he should be here for a long time.

The outfield, especially without Beltran is a question, which is why deadline trades should be made with it in mind. This team should be built on pitching and speed. We have tons of waiting arms in the minors, but no speed. Find me a 22-year-old centerfielder who can steal 30 bases and cover two-thirds of an outfield like Tori hunter or Beltran could in their youth and the job is done.

Met fans have been through a lot in the past 10 years. False starts and titanic disappointments have led to an ire against the Wilpon family that might be justified in particular instances. However, this behavior and sentiment is not just over comments that anyone of us have made since Game 7, 2006.

Wilpon's comments didn't shock me and they sure didn't anger me. They made me realize that for all of the missteps and calamities this franchise has faced that he has a clue. That he understands the reality of this team and that is an important point to digest. Wail all that you will. We are the cursed and left for dead Met fans, it is what we know, but I can't help but look at a team at 22-23 in May, the management team is in place to be successful from here on in, with the draft and the the trade deadline fast approaching and not believe something good will come out of this.

Its all a matter of patience now.

birth of the cool...

it was written that jesus turned water in wine...

well in that tradition i give you cucumbers in the desert...
that's right bitches, cucumbers in the desert...

the witch is dead...

there he is in all of his glory. in the only uniform that ever mattered...

i think a lot of Knick fans forget this man's history. that he was a bruiser, rebounder/defender a la Xavier McDaniel, Charles Oakley and Anthony Mason. that years later he would call those guys brutes and dirty players, the same player he was. he would say the same about Dennis Rodman and then welcome him with open arms...

Phil Jackson is a charmed citizen of the game of basketball. never more than a 7th man off the bench, he won a ring with the Knicks in 1970, via recovery from spinal fusion surgery and '73, as defender and enforcer. he inherited a ready made team in Chicago with the best player on the planet and won three straight titles riding that man's back to Atlantic City, before a year of retirement that left Jackson with the also rans...

every coach in the NBA manipulates referees some better than others, i always thought Knick coaches Pat Riley (also with the Heat and the Lakers) and Jeff Van Gundy (with the Rockets as well) did a nice job of showing the proper sort of indignation towards a particular game's officiating while others like Jerry Sloan (late of the Utah Jazz) and Greg Popovich (of the suddenly done like disco San Antonio Spurs) often sounded like someone kicked their dog. Jackson was elite in this regard, making it sound as if the NBA Commissioner, David Stern, had walked up to the microphone and said the words himself...

once Jordan came back from his 'retirement', he would coach three more title winning teams until the Air would once again take his ball and go home. Jackson followed in short order until he was hired to charge another super-talent in Shaquille ONeal along with a young superstar in the making in Kobe Bryant. Winning three more title with that crew, then, this time, taking a step away from the game only to return with Kobe and additions Pau Gasol, Lamar Odom and Andrew Bynum to win two more...

11 titles, its impressive, no doubt...

he didn't create the triangle offense, that was Tex Winter, and his defensive schemes are more Red Holzman than anyone else. he has had more talent and grit given to him then any coach since Red Auerbach, but Auerbach drafted his players...

what makes Jackson what he is—his gift; is that he could make folks believe the earth was flat...

this is why, on this day, rather than applaud a man for his achievements of an unparalleled coaching career of over 20 years, we should show him for what he is...

a silver tongued thug...

i've watched the Dallas Mavericks/Lakers series as intently as i would if the Knicks we're playing it. i thought the talent, size and drive of Dirk Nowitzki, the size of Tyson Chandler and Brenden Haywood and the frenetic style of the Mavericks guards could match-up well versus the Lakers. And they did, game 1 and 2 in Los Angeles went to the conquering Mavs. Game 2 was the dagger and when the game was out of reach, Laker forward Ron Artest took a cheap-shot at fireplug point guard JJ Barrera. Classless to be sure but i thought nothing of it, i mean; its Ron-Ron, ever since Fran Frischilla pulled his pants down that kid hasn't been right. it was game 4, the penultimate ass-whooping by a team driven to destroy of a team certain of its demise...

with the game locked up late in the fourth Odom decided to shoulder block Nowitzki and was called for an illegal pick, a double technical and removed from the game. certainly another classless move and not the way Odom should be representing the thorough borough. Within the next minute, Bynum assaulted poor Barrera with a forearm shiver to the ribs, that sent the already in-flight Barrera to the floor, hard. Bynum should be suspended for the action going into next season. the action was not only classless, but it put another human being in danger of a serious injury...

all the years of promoting the idea that Jackson was the Zen master, making water in to wine, we saw his true face. when his stars faltered, the billy club came out. if he was such a good coach, a man of reason and wisdom, he would have told his charges after game 2 that Artest's behavior in was unacceptable. after the Odom incident, he should have repeated the mantra, but he kept his mouth shut and Bynum was let loose. regardless of how you perceive the incident, the onus was on Jackson to keep the peace, he did not. thug to the end...

they all fade away like wounded soldiers, Jordan came back once too many times. Oneal is languishing as a sound byte in Boston and Kobe, well, he has never looked so good. for a man who was booed in his home town all-star game, caught cheating on his wife, and had the most ridiculous scowl in playoff history, he comes off looking good. even to a hater like me. my advice is to pack them up Kobe, 5 rings in pocket are more valuable than the pain and suffering you will go through only to never see the finals again. walk now and enjoy, you've made your mark...

the next 24 hours will be a non-stop love fest for Jackson i will not participate. ESPN will get the final gurgle from the nipple of the man who was given the keys to the city throughout his whole career, but went out like a punk...

in watching this series, a lot has been made about Nowitzki, himself, 13 years in the league, and how he is determined to get another chance at a title. he has been a victim of the Jackson lore. Jason Kidd and Jason Terry have spent years in the league, foiled as well, but the player who struck me, and caught a lump in my throat was Peja Stoyakovic. Victim of Jackson's Laker's time and time again while in Sacramento, Stoyakovic went 6-6 from the three-point line yesterday, shooting the lights out. shooting every one in Jackson's eye. good for Peja, even if he doesn't win his ring, he can sleep knowing he sent Jackson out on a rail, for Chris Webber, and Vlade Divac and the rest of his former teammates...

but for a hardened Knick fan this was the sweetest day. the witch is dead. if i click my heels i can imagine a world without Jackson and maybe another title for my boys at 33rd and 7th in the neat future, the first one i will ever see...

misplaced aggression...

yay!...

yay for US! USA! USA! USA! when i turned on the Met game last night after returning home from potential employer #4, i first heard the chants of USA. i logged into my fantasy baseball team to check what had become a close week in a head to head, match-up with an old TORCHIE, when the news of the evening revealed itself...

so yay! we're so great, we got Osama Bin Laden!...

i'm not trying to downplay the significance of this event, i know the grass is greener for 3,497 families and the countless others who lost their lives in the aftermath of the attack on the World Trade Center. but it was viewing some facebook posts and hearing the chants of USA over and over from Philadelphia fans, that caught me sour. it reminded me of a day in 1995 when the OJ Simpson verdict was announced, not just for the cheers of elation that came from African-Americans in this country but the disdain it caused amongst most white folk. i remember sitting in my History of Sports class, with the entire range of emotion exploding around me and thinking 'how is my life any different?'...

it wasn't. in fact i was still enraged from the fact that OJ and his cohort in arms Al interrupted the Knicks/Rockets game 3 the summer before. misplaced aggression i guess...

i awoke today of varying thoughts on facebook regarding the the death of Bin Laden, some are measured, some are sublime, but some are downright ridiculous. as if this will help us remember the fateful events of September 11, 2001. like we need help. i remember the sinking feeling when the second plane hit standing atop Arthur Ashe Stadium in Flushing Meadows, the eerie drive to Whitestone, onto Bayside and the days after. the smell of death in the south plaza of the National Tennis Center that had wafted from lower Manhattan, the vigils, the rage, the fear—all of it. i remember that night the next January walking to a bar to meet up for judge roughneck's birthday, taking the wrong turn and approaching the site with a growing anxiety in me, only to turn around and find my way to the pub. or the day, years later when i would first step in the footprints of the towers. a bone-chilling late winter day with a mix of freezing rain and snowflakes, traversing the scaffold stairs lower and lower into what was a mass grave site turned into a 16-acre puddle of mud. later, i stared at the dried mud remnants on my shoes going home on the E-Train, leaving a trail from Church St. to 94th avenue. no, i don't need last night to remember September 11th...

today OJ is in jail for some foolishness, and Bin Laden gets his date with oblivion, but he doesn't mean shit to me. my life hasn't changed, neither has yours. we're just as vulnerable to a terrorist threat as we were yesterday and will be again tomorrow. our biggest threat still isn't the terrorists, its ourselves and our inability to identify the real problem, our misplaced aggression. the world isn't different today, its exactly the same and going according to plan, its just not our plan, and no, its not god's either...

there is a seen in the film 'Miracle', where Kurt Russell portraying US Hockey Coach Herb Brooks walks into the corridor of what is now named the Herb Brooks Arena in Lake Placid, takes a moment and exults to himself about coaching the team that beat the vaunted Russian squad in the 1980 Olympic Hockey Semi-Finals. for those who know the scene, it was measured and it was right. even if Brooks' actual reaction was nothing like that which was portrayed it felt right, and it is one of the best snippets from a film i've ever seen, (for sports films it rivals Gene Hackman's face-wash/nod after Ollie hits the second foul shot in 'Hoosiers')...

and that's how it would be. you should emote, in solace. elate, weep in joy, sadness and relief. repose. give a shout-out to the boys who are the best trained fighting force next to the Mossad and tip your hat to the man who had the wherewithal to pull the trigger without prejudice. something his two previous predecessors could not accomplish and move on because today is another day...

and ain't a damn thing changed...