March can be a grind. It’s a month that does what it wants, when it wants, and leaves the rest of us to pick up the pieces. Like Tom and Daisy Buchanan in The Great Gatsby, March recklessly disregards anyone else as it whirls and swirls its way toward selfish ends. One day, it’s 70 degrees. The next, it’s snowing.
Spring begins, and we lift our hopes at the sight of crocuses blooming. But then March startles the crowds by announcing that nothing’s changing yet, and a deep chill returns. Eventually, of course, March and Old Man Winter will step aside and allow the more temperate April to take center stage. We’ll sigh with relief, only to groan a few days later when the temperature soars to 85 degrees.
You don’t feel much like spring when there’s snow on the ground. They tell you that the baseball season begins next week, but that seems like a farce. March leaves us in this netherworld, unable to plant our feet squarely on any settled ground. So, as a means toward survival and pleasure, we stay inside and turn on our televisions. We break out our brackets and watch young men glide across hardwood courts, in a dance they like to call March Madness.
The NCAA men’s basketball tournament offers a surfeit of athletic drama, equaled only by a few other sporting events – the Olympics, Wimbledon, the Kentucky Derby, and the World Series. To turn on your television and know for a fact that somewhere over the course of a few hours you will see a season hanging on 1.7 seconds – that’s just a sports fan’s dream. So please, let the baseball players shag some more flies and get in their morning workouts down in Florida and Arizona. No rush – we don’t need them yet.
I’ve got my eyes set on Harrison Barnes right now. I’ve been following North Carolina basketball closely since I stepped foot on the Chapel Hill campus some (gulp) 22 years ago. I’ve seen a lot of players in Carolina blue touted as the “best since Michael Jordan.” It’s become a cliché of sorts. But this time, it may be for real. UNC has won three national titles since Jordan left for the NBA Draft 27 years ago, but I’m not sure the school has produced as skilled a player as Harrison Barnes in that quarter-century. At 6-foot-8, Barnes is long, lean and lithe. He does not run; he glides. The freshman can shoot a 3-pointer as easily as he can dunk, and he can steal a ball as easily as he can pop a jumper. He will be playing basketball for a long, long time. For now, though, the Tar Heel faithful are the ones lucky enough to have him on their side.
Soon enough, Barnes’ season will be over – either with a tough tournament loss, or with a terrific title run. And then baseball will drag spring back to us, and we’ll have reason to stand outside again and think about doing some lawn work. I’ll plant some grass seed while daydreaming about the Yankees’ chances this season.
Tonight, though, the snow continues to fall. And March exudes its ever-present madness. It’s not a day to dream of pinstriped sluggers; it’s a day for freshman forwards in high tops. I’m ready for tip-off.
Showing posts with label North Carolina Tar Heels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label North Carolina Tar Heels. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Sunday, August 15, 2010
What to Pack (One Sixty-Two: Day 114)
Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.
Day One Hundred Fourteen: Pat Burrell, San Francisco Giants
My mother-in-law has taken some flack throughout the years for her packing habits. Her vacation prep consists of folding up half of her wardrobe and stashing it in her minivan. She’s been known to pack her car full of plastic storage bins – the kind normally used for holiday ornaments – with loads of shirts, pants and enough shoes for a small village inside those bins. This year, her daughters counted 21 pairs of Capris packed for a 14-day vacation.
My wife and I joke with her mom about this, but a closer look at our own suitcases shows that we’ve got our own issues with overpacking. We typically stash twice as many clothes as we need in our duffel bags, and we never seem to change our ways, even as we find ourselves lifting piles of untouched clothing from our bags back into the dresser.
It’s human nature to want to make sure you’ve got enough for a trip, even if that means overpreparing. Of course, it’s also human nature to forget things. We may pack six more sweaters than we need, yet forget to bring along our toothbrush in the process. Even with long checklists, we still find it hard to pack perfectly.
There can be packing problems in sports, too. A team bent on winning at all costs can stock up so much talent that the club loses the critical element of team chemistry along the way. The 1994 North Carolina men’s basketball team was one of the most talented college basketball teams in recent memory, but the club had so many go-to guys on the court that players struggled to figure out their roles; in turn, the team was upset early in that year’s NCAA Tournament. The 2005 New York Yankees had more home-run hitters than most championship teams, but the Bronx Bombers didn’t have enough table-setters to get on base for the power hitters and do the little things that every strong offense needs. As a result, the Yankees lost in the first round of that year’s playoffs.
This year’s San Francisco Giants have been trying to add some offense in recent weeks to supplement their excellent pitching and remain in the National League West divisional race. But in trying to do this, the Giants have placed right-handed sluggers Pat Burrell and Jose Guillen in the corner outfield spots. While these guys might help the Giants score some runs, they could actually cost more runs than they produce because of their defensive deficiencies. ESPN.com’s Rob Neyer pointed out that Burrell and Guillen are two of the worst defensive outfielders in the game. In a closely-matched division, run-prevention becomes at least as important as run-scoring.
In trying to bolster their hitting, the Giants may have overpacked, and forgotten something essential along the way. If so, they’ll find their season ending by late September. By that time, the San Francisco players will have a lot of time available for vacations. I would just suggest that if they do go away, they avoid those plastic storage bins. You’ve got to pack light eventually.
Day One Hundred Fourteen: Pat Burrell, San Francisco Giants
My mother-in-law has taken some flack throughout the years for her packing habits. Her vacation prep consists of folding up half of her wardrobe and stashing it in her minivan. She’s been known to pack her car full of plastic storage bins – the kind normally used for holiday ornaments – with loads of shirts, pants and enough shoes for a small village inside those bins. This year, her daughters counted 21 pairs of Capris packed for a 14-day vacation.
My wife and I joke with her mom about this, but a closer look at our own suitcases shows that we’ve got our own issues with overpacking. We typically stash twice as many clothes as we need in our duffel bags, and we never seem to change our ways, even as we find ourselves lifting piles of untouched clothing from our bags back into the dresser.
It’s human nature to want to make sure you’ve got enough for a trip, even if that means overpreparing. Of course, it’s also human nature to forget things. We may pack six more sweaters than we need, yet forget to bring along our toothbrush in the process. Even with long checklists, we still find it hard to pack perfectly.
There can be packing problems in sports, too. A team bent on winning at all costs can stock up so much talent that the club loses the critical element of team chemistry along the way. The 1994 North Carolina men’s basketball team was one of the most talented college basketball teams in recent memory, but the club had so many go-to guys on the court that players struggled to figure out their roles; in turn, the team was upset early in that year’s NCAA Tournament. The 2005 New York Yankees had more home-run hitters than most championship teams, but the Bronx Bombers didn’t have enough table-setters to get on base for the power hitters and do the little things that every strong offense needs. As a result, the Yankees lost in the first round of that year’s playoffs.
This year’s San Francisco Giants have been trying to add some offense in recent weeks to supplement their excellent pitching and remain in the National League West divisional race. But in trying to do this, the Giants have placed right-handed sluggers Pat Burrell and Jose Guillen in the corner outfield spots. While these guys might help the Giants score some runs, they could actually cost more runs than they produce because of their defensive deficiencies. ESPN.com’s Rob Neyer pointed out that Burrell and Guillen are two of the worst defensive outfielders in the game. In a closely-matched division, run-prevention becomes at least as important as run-scoring.
In trying to bolster their hitting, the Giants may have overpacked, and forgotten something essential along the way. If so, they’ll find their season ending by late September. By that time, the San Francisco players will have a lot of time available for vacations. I would just suggest that if they do go away, they avoid those plastic storage bins. You’ve got to pack light eventually.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Old-Timers as Teachers (One Sixty-Two: Day 86)
Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.
Day Eighty-Six: Chase Headley, San Diego Padres (via Jerry Coleman)
I read with deep sorrow the news today that former North Carolina basketball coach Dean Smith is suffering from memory loss. Smith, 79, is one of the giants in college basketball history, and he did it the right way, winning nearly 900 games while also graduating more than 96 percent of his players. While Smith has always been a very private man, those who’ve met him have had the chance to learn so much about life and about basketball.
It seemed somewhat fitting that this news was released today as the New York Yankees held their 64th annual Old-Timers Day at Yankee Stadium. In the same way that countless young basketball players have had the chance to learn from conversations with Dean Smith, the Yankees and Rays players had an opportunity today to learn from nearly 50 retired Yankees players who were honored during a ceremony before the game between New York and Tampa Bay. As the ceremony took place, the cameras showed current Yankees players chatting it up with men much older – and, in many cases, much wiser – than they.
It makes no sense to me that the Yankees stand alone in holding a baseball ceremony of this sort. We read so often of young ballplayers who lack perspective, maturity, and a true appreciation for the game and its history. What better opportunity than to walk into your clubhouse and find 50 former players right there, ready and willing to talk baseball and life with you?
In addition to honoring retired players from the ‘60s, ‘70s, ‘80s, ‘90s and ‘00s, the Yankees also celebrated the 60th anniversary of their 1950 championship team today with a handful of surviving members from that great team. Among those present today was Jerry Coleman, a former infielder for New York who had his best season in 1950. Coleman is now 85, but he’s still announcing San Diego Padres games on the radio. Coleman began working as an announcer in 1960, and he only stopped for the one year in which the Padres hired him to manage the team.
Those Yankees who chatted with Coleman today could have asked him about a lot of things. They could have asked how it felt to win five straight championships, and what it was like to turn a double play with Phil Rizzuto. They could have asked about his transition from the playing field to broadcasting booth, and how he handled that. They also could have asked Coleman about his service in the United States Marine Corps during both World War II and the Korean War. They could have asked him which of his accomplishments he’s most proud of, and what it all means as he looks back on nearly 86 years of living, playing, serving and talking.
Out in San Diego, the Padres players are incredibly lucky to have a guy like Coleman around them. A young infielder like Chase Headley can learn from his team’s announcer – learn a bit about the game of baseball, or learn even more about the game of life. This past week, with the deaths of Bob Sheppard and George Steinbrenner, Yankees players were reminded that no one stays around forever. And the North Carolina Tar Heel family has been reminded that as we age, our minds don’t always stay as sharp.
The seniors among us have so much to share. All we have to do is ask. Schools across the nation are constantly bringing youngsters together with older folks to learn from one another. Baseball can surely do more of the same. Old-Timers games are more than a chance for the old gang to get together again while they’re well enough to do so. These ceremonies allow generations to connect. You can’t go wrong with that.
Day Eighty-Six: Chase Headley, San Diego Padres (via Jerry Coleman)
I read with deep sorrow the news today that former North Carolina basketball coach Dean Smith is suffering from memory loss. Smith, 79, is one of the giants in college basketball history, and he did it the right way, winning nearly 900 games while also graduating more than 96 percent of his players. While Smith has always been a very private man, those who’ve met him have had the chance to learn so much about life and about basketball.
It seemed somewhat fitting that this news was released today as the New York Yankees held their 64th annual Old-Timers Day at Yankee Stadium. In the same way that countless young basketball players have had the chance to learn from conversations with Dean Smith, the Yankees and Rays players had an opportunity today to learn from nearly 50 retired Yankees players who were honored during a ceremony before the game between New York and Tampa Bay. As the ceremony took place, the cameras showed current Yankees players chatting it up with men much older – and, in many cases, much wiser – than they.
It makes no sense to me that the Yankees stand alone in holding a baseball ceremony of this sort. We read so often of young ballplayers who lack perspective, maturity, and a true appreciation for the game and its history. What better opportunity than to walk into your clubhouse and find 50 former players right there, ready and willing to talk baseball and life with you?
In addition to honoring retired players from the ‘60s, ‘70s, ‘80s, ‘90s and ‘00s, the Yankees also celebrated the 60th anniversary of their 1950 championship team today with a handful of surviving members from that great team. Among those present today was Jerry Coleman, a former infielder for New York who had his best season in 1950. Coleman is now 85, but he’s still announcing San Diego Padres games on the radio. Coleman began working as an announcer in 1960, and he only stopped for the one year in which the Padres hired him to manage the team.
Those Yankees who chatted with Coleman today could have asked him about a lot of things. They could have asked how it felt to win five straight championships, and what it was like to turn a double play with Phil Rizzuto. They could have asked about his transition from the playing field to broadcasting booth, and how he handled that. They also could have asked Coleman about his service in the United States Marine Corps during both World War II and the Korean War. They could have asked him which of his accomplishments he’s most proud of, and what it all means as he looks back on nearly 86 years of living, playing, serving and talking.
Out in San Diego, the Padres players are incredibly lucky to have a guy like Coleman around them. A young infielder like Chase Headley can learn from his team’s announcer – learn a bit about the game of baseball, or learn even more about the game of life. This past week, with the deaths of Bob Sheppard and George Steinbrenner, Yankees players were reminded that no one stays around forever. And the North Carolina Tar Heel family has been reminded that as we age, our minds don’t always stay as sharp.
The seniors among us have so much to share. All we have to do is ask. Schools across the nation are constantly bringing youngsters together with older folks to learn from one another. Baseball can surely do more of the same. Old-Timers games are more than a chance for the old gang to get together again while they’re well enough to do so. These ceremonies allow generations to connect. You can’t go wrong with that.
Friday, March 12, 2010
When the Mighty Fall
There are times when you just have to suck it up.
My sister-in-law writes on my Facebook wall: “Hey Warren, what do the NCAA Tournament and flip-flops have in common?”
I know, Lynn – they have no heels. No Heels. Ha. Ha. Ha.
When you root for a team that wins a lot, and then that team has a surprisingly terrible year, you’re going to hear about it, and you’re going to have to take some punches. Last year, North Carolina held aloft the Division I men’s basketball championship trophy. This year, the Tar Heels are 16-16, and will play no part in the NCAA Tournament.
Nobody’s cryin’ for you, buddy, so don’t even start complaining.
The barbs are even coming from your own students, who rely on your judgment for their grade-point averages. You know it’s a bad year when even they are taking swipes at you, reminding you of just how badly UNC lost to Duke last week.
I get it, kid. Take out your Hamlet book. You can play Polonius today.
Last year, the two sports teams for which I root passionately – the Chapel Hill men’s hoops team and the South Bronx pro baseball team – both won championships. Even for two of the most successful teams in American sports history, titles in the same year had never happened before last year. And it may never happen again. So for a fan like me, it was definitely a cool year in that way.
But in 2010, the mighty fell on that hardwood – or at least the mighty became reliant on freshmen who are still learning the college game. The Tar Heels will be back, but this year’s tournament will belong to other teams, with other fan bases. It’s still fun to watch, just without the personal connection.
To an extent, this year’s Flip-Flop Tournament has me turning my attention to Spring Training, to how the Yankees are shaping up. No need to worry about people telling me that New York is out of it this year. These defending champs are still wearing their navy-blue Grapefruit League uniforms, with the starters playing a couple of innings before the rookies get a look.
Baseball is waking up from its winter nap, and the excitement of a new season approaches. But it’s still kind of distant right now. Let’s be honest – college basketball is where it’s at in mid-March, and if I avoid the games it’s only out of spite.
My sister-in-law went to Siena, which has a far better men’s basketball team than North Carolina has this year. Now that is something truly rare. So enjoy, Lynn, and root for those Saints every step of the way. You never know.
Just remember this one, though, when you’re passing along the social-networking jokes. It’s an oldy, but I’ll take it any day.
Q: How do you know God loves the Tar Heels? A: He made the sky Carolina blue.
Redemption awaits. Even for the mighty.
My sister-in-law writes on my Facebook wall: “Hey Warren, what do the NCAA Tournament and flip-flops have in common?”
I know, Lynn – they have no heels. No Heels. Ha. Ha. Ha.
When you root for a team that wins a lot, and then that team has a surprisingly terrible year, you’re going to hear about it, and you’re going to have to take some punches. Last year, North Carolina held aloft the Division I men’s basketball championship trophy. This year, the Tar Heels are 16-16, and will play no part in the NCAA Tournament.
Nobody’s cryin’ for you, buddy, so don’t even start complaining.
The barbs are even coming from your own students, who rely on your judgment for their grade-point averages. You know it’s a bad year when even they are taking swipes at you, reminding you of just how badly UNC lost to Duke last week.
I get it, kid. Take out your Hamlet book. You can play Polonius today.
Last year, the two sports teams for which I root passionately – the Chapel Hill men’s hoops team and the South Bronx pro baseball team – both won championships. Even for two of the most successful teams in American sports history, titles in the same year had never happened before last year. And it may never happen again. So for a fan like me, it was definitely a cool year in that way.
But in 2010, the mighty fell on that hardwood – or at least the mighty became reliant on freshmen who are still learning the college game. The Tar Heels will be back, but this year’s tournament will belong to other teams, with other fan bases. It’s still fun to watch, just without the personal connection.
To an extent, this year’s Flip-Flop Tournament has me turning my attention to Spring Training, to how the Yankees are shaping up. No need to worry about people telling me that New York is out of it this year. These defending champs are still wearing their navy-blue Grapefruit League uniforms, with the starters playing a couple of innings before the rookies get a look.
Baseball is waking up from its winter nap, and the excitement of a new season approaches. But it’s still kind of distant right now. Let’s be honest – college basketball is where it’s at in mid-March, and if I avoid the games it’s only out of spite.
My sister-in-law went to Siena, which has a far better men’s basketball team than North Carolina has this year. Now that is something truly rare. So enjoy, Lynn, and root for those Saints every step of the way. You never know.
Just remember this one, though, when you’re passing along the social-networking jokes. It’s an oldy, but I’ll take it any day.
Q: How do you know God loves the Tar Heels? A: He made the sky Carolina blue.
Redemption awaits. Even for the mighty.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Rivalry Royalty
Watching the North Carolina-Duke men’s basketball game last night was a little like watching Yankees-Red Sox, circa 1992. The rivalry was there, sure. The fans were intense, as always. But the talent was not the same.
Eighteen years ago, the Yankees and Red Sox both finished at least 20 games out of first place, both with losing records. That was the last time that neither New York nor Boston finished in the top two in the American League East standings; most years since then, they have both finished in the top two. The last dozen years, in particular, have seen the Yankees and Red Sox bring their storied baseball rivalry to an unprecedented level of excellence. Since 1998, in fact, Boston has won at least 92 games nine times, while New York has done it 10 times.
In the same way, it’s typical this time of year to see both North Carolina and Duke ranked in the top 10, both battling furiously for the Atlantic Coast Conference title and a top seed in the NCAA Tournament. Since 1975, only two seasons have ended without UNC or Duke having won either the ACC’s regular season or tournament titles. The two schools have a combined 32 Final Fours and eight national championships between them.
I’ve been fortunate enough to see the UNC-Duke rivalry up close – first as a student, then as a sportswriter. And I’ve been lucky enough to see the Yankees-Red Sox duel many times from the seats of Yankee Stadium and Fenway Park. They are, without question, the two most impressive rivalries I’ve ever witnessed in sports. The histories of the teams, the settings for their games, and the intensities of their fan bases all play a role in this. But the most important piece to these great rivalries is simple: It’s the quality that the teams produce, year after year.
You can say you’re a Red Sox fan and you hate the Yankees. But the reality is, a Boston championship is indescribably sweeter if it involves a hard-fought win over New York (see 2004). You can say that God loves the Tar Heels so much He made the sky Carolina blue, and that the Blue Devils truly belong in hell. But you know, deep down, that no UNC title is worth winning without some dramatic wins against Duke (see 2009).
These two rivalries are as revered as they are because of the high standards that all four clubs aspire to year after year, and the astounding levels of success that all four have achieved. You don’t need to be the champion every year to still be the team to beat. The Tar Heels, Blue Devils, Yankees and Red Sox have achieved so much success over the years that the best measuring stick for their progress has been the games they play against their heated rivals. It’s not just bragging rights they want in Chapel Hill, Durham, the Bronx and Kenmore Square; it’s an idea of just how good they are.
That’s why last night’s UNC-Duke game was such a letdown. Sure, this year’s Duke Blue Devils are a top-10 team, and they can hit three-pointers from anywhere on the court. But they’re not a complete team, and they don’t look like a real contender for an NCAA title. Duke may hold on and claim the ACC title, but that has more to do with a weak ACC conference this year than with the Blue Devils’ prowess. North Carolina, just 10 months removed from its fifth national title, lost four starters to the NBA and doesn’t have enough experience to compete at its usual level this year. This year’s Tar Heels are scrambling just to keep their record above .500.
And so, as the veteran Blue Devils fended off the young Tar Heels last night in Chapel Hill, I was reminded of how dreary those early-90s matchups were between the Yanks and the Sox. Sure, Boston still had Roger Clemens and Wade Boggs, while New York had a veteran Don Mattingly and a young Bernie Williams. But the teams didn’t have much sizzle to them, and therefore the head-to-heads didn’t carry the weight that they so often had and would in the years to come. (Even the one game with sizzle – Clemens pitching on a Saturday afternoon in the Bronx – lost its luster when I got my friend lost on the way there, and we ended up in Bogota, N.J. Bogota, by the way, just happens to be the hometown of former UNC sixth-man Pat Sullivan.)
North Carolina, at 2-7 in the ACC this year, is truly down on the canvas for once. While the rest of the conference gloats at the fall of the mighty, America’s best college rivalry suffers. The standards have been lowered, and who really likes it when your top rival is a punching bag?
Before we get too worried, though, let’s take a look forward. This year’s number-one high school recruit, 6-foot-8 forward Harrison Barnes from Iowa, recently chose UNC over Duke, joining two other nationally-touted recruits already on their way to Chapel Hill. And so the rivalry breathes on, and the balance of power shifts again.
As for baseball, the Yankees and Red Sox have carefully improved their teams again this off-season, spending their money on pitching and defense to add to their already-impressive batting lineups. There will be no letdown in that rivalry in 2010, and both teams will be favorites to make the playoffs once more.
I will root for the Yankees whenever they play the Red Sox. And while I won’t actually root for the Red Sox in their games against other teams, I won’t be too upset if August rolls around and the standings show New York and Boston tied for first place. It may cause some butterflies in the stomach, but you know the saying: Nothing that’s worth having comes easy.
Eighteen years ago, the Yankees and Red Sox both finished at least 20 games out of first place, both with losing records. That was the last time that neither New York nor Boston finished in the top two in the American League East standings; most years since then, they have both finished in the top two. The last dozen years, in particular, have seen the Yankees and Red Sox bring their storied baseball rivalry to an unprecedented level of excellence. Since 1998, in fact, Boston has won at least 92 games nine times, while New York has done it 10 times.
In the same way, it’s typical this time of year to see both North Carolina and Duke ranked in the top 10, both battling furiously for the Atlantic Coast Conference title and a top seed in the NCAA Tournament. Since 1975, only two seasons have ended without UNC or Duke having won either the ACC’s regular season or tournament titles. The two schools have a combined 32 Final Fours and eight national championships between them.
I’ve been fortunate enough to see the UNC-Duke rivalry up close – first as a student, then as a sportswriter. And I’ve been lucky enough to see the Yankees-Red Sox duel many times from the seats of Yankee Stadium and Fenway Park. They are, without question, the two most impressive rivalries I’ve ever witnessed in sports. The histories of the teams, the settings for their games, and the intensities of their fan bases all play a role in this. But the most important piece to these great rivalries is simple: It’s the quality that the teams produce, year after year.
You can say you’re a Red Sox fan and you hate the Yankees. But the reality is, a Boston championship is indescribably sweeter if it involves a hard-fought win over New York (see 2004). You can say that God loves the Tar Heels so much He made the sky Carolina blue, and that the Blue Devils truly belong in hell. But you know, deep down, that no UNC title is worth winning without some dramatic wins against Duke (see 2009).
These two rivalries are as revered as they are because of the high standards that all four clubs aspire to year after year, and the astounding levels of success that all four have achieved. You don’t need to be the champion every year to still be the team to beat. The Tar Heels, Blue Devils, Yankees and Red Sox have achieved so much success over the years that the best measuring stick for their progress has been the games they play against their heated rivals. It’s not just bragging rights they want in Chapel Hill, Durham, the Bronx and Kenmore Square; it’s an idea of just how good they are.
That’s why last night’s UNC-Duke game was such a letdown. Sure, this year’s Duke Blue Devils are a top-10 team, and they can hit three-pointers from anywhere on the court. But they’re not a complete team, and they don’t look like a real contender for an NCAA title. Duke may hold on and claim the ACC title, but that has more to do with a weak ACC conference this year than with the Blue Devils’ prowess. North Carolina, just 10 months removed from its fifth national title, lost four starters to the NBA and doesn’t have enough experience to compete at its usual level this year. This year’s Tar Heels are scrambling just to keep their record above .500.
And so, as the veteran Blue Devils fended off the young Tar Heels last night in Chapel Hill, I was reminded of how dreary those early-90s matchups were between the Yanks and the Sox. Sure, Boston still had Roger Clemens and Wade Boggs, while New York had a veteran Don Mattingly and a young Bernie Williams. But the teams didn’t have much sizzle to them, and therefore the head-to-heads didn’t carry the weight that they so often had and would in the years to come. (Even the one game with sizzle – Clemens pitching on a Saturday afternoon in the Bronx – lost its luster when I got my friend lost on the way there, and we ended up in Bogota, N.J. Bogota, by the way, just happens to be the hometown of former UNC sixth-man Pat Sullivan.)
North Carolina, at 2-7 in the ACC this year, is truly down on the canvas for once. While the rest of the conference gloats at the fall of the mighty, America’s best college rivalry suffers. The standards have been lowered, and who really likes it when your top rival is a punching bag?
Before we get too worried, though, let’s take a look forward. This year’s number-one high school recruit, 6-foot-8 forward Harrison Barnes from Iowa, recently chose UNC over Duke, joining two other nationally-touted recruits already on their way to Chapel Hill. And so the rivalry breathes on, and the balance of power shifts again.
As for baseball, the Yankees and Red Sox have carefully improved their teams again this off-season, spending their money on pitching and defense to add to their already-impressive batting lineups. There will be no letdown in that rivalry in 2010, and both teams will be favorites to make the playoffs once more.
I will root for the Yankees whenever they play the Red Sox. And while I won’t actually root for the Red Sox in their games against other teams, I won’t be too upset if August rolls around and the standings show New York and Boston tied for first place. It may cause some butterflies in the stomach, but you know the saying: Nothing that’s worth having comes easy.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Bunk Bed Nation
So now they have a bunk bed. Which raises the question: Will they – and we – survive?
Katie is on the top bunk, and Chelsea’s on the bottom. There are about a million stuffed animals on both levels, reading lights attached to the sides, and a mailbox fastened out of a Kleenex box attached to Katie’s upper bunk. (We have yet to notify the mailman that he needs to make deliveries inside the house now.) There are more pillows than either needs on each bunk, and water bottles perched on each girl’s rail.
It’s only been two nights … but so far, so good. There have been no fears of heights so far, no fallen ladders, and – especially – no middle-of-the-night fights.
When you’re growing up and sharing the same house and same bedroom, you’re bound to have more than a few skirmishes. Sometimes, it’s one smacking the other over who gets a toy. At other times, it’s a battle over the remote control. Still other times, it’s one not letting the other use her art supplies. Yesterday, the two were smearing mud on each other to show their disagreement over the mud pie-making process. Today, they were fighting over who got to point out the hidden pictures in the book we were reading.
They occupy the same living space for 17 out of every 24 hours during the weekdays, then for nearly every hour of their weekends. They don’t always share the same agenda, the same mood, or the same tastes in music. They get stir crazy sometimes during these winter days, and we watch them run around the house like untrained puppies. And yet, somehow, most of the time, they find a way to get along.
I was thinking about the girls’ relationship after reading several stories this weekend about the trials within America’s political process. There is a complete breakdown in cooperation between Democrats and Republicans, and there are citizens throughout this country who could not disagree more on so many critical issues facing the nation. Be it the economy, health care, the environment, immigration, gun control, abortion or national security, the lines seem to be drawn in permanent marker these days. While the president searches for ways to erase these lines, he finds obstructions everywhere he looks.
It used to be that the biggest rivalries in America were North Carolina-Duke and Yankees-Red Sox. Politics was always a fierce game, but inevitably there was a backroom compromise being made to bring folks together in Washington. The sharpest divisions were found within sports, and they faded from view once the games were over.
But in January of 2010, political compromise seems as distant as a world without the Internet. Today’s constant news updates, political blogs and tweets allow the rivalries to rage all day long, and while that may be more democratic in a way, it also leads to a lot more shouting.
I don’t know when it will calm down, but I’m certainly hoping it does. I’d love to see some civility, hear some dialogue, and feel some hope again. I’d like to know that people are listening, and not just hollering. I’d like to know that our media outlets are encouraging discussion, not division.
This all may seem as unlikely as a Yankees fan going out to dinner with a Red Sox fan. But actually, I’ve gone out to dinner with dozens of Boston fans. And I’ve had a great time, every time. We’ve even talked baseball, and by listening to their stories I’ve developed a deep appreciation for Boston’s history. I can even say I’ve come to admire a few Red Sox players. That actually feels good, and not at all traitorous.
It really is a nice bunk bed. The girls both look so comfortable in their little spaces. At night, the only sound we hear is the hiss of their humidifier. In the morning, they usually wake up together, pound down the stairs with their elephant feet, and – first test of the day – compromise on what kids’ show they’ll watch together.
I bring them some juice or a smoothie, and they sit together on the couch. They look up, say hi, then get back to their show. It seems that yesterday’s arguments are all forgotten. It’s a new day, and a time to work together.
Katie is on the top bunk, and Chelsea’s on the bottom. There are about a million stuffed animals on both levels, reading lights attached to the sides, and a mailbox fastened out of a Kleenex box attached to Katie’s upper bunk. (We have yet to notify the mailman that he needs to make deliveries inside the house now.) There are more pillows than either needs on each bunk, and water bottles perched on each girl’s rail.
It’s only been two nights … but so far, so good. There have been no fears of heights so far, no fallen ladders, and – especially – no middle-of-the-night fights.
When you’re growing up and sharing the same house and same bedroom, you’re bound to have more than a few skirmishes. Sometimes, it’s one smacking the other over who gets a toy. At other times, it’s a battle over the remote control. Still other times, it’s one not letting the other use her art supplies. Yesterday, the two were smearing mud on each other to show their disagreement over the mud pie-making process. Today, they were fighting over who got to point out the hidden pictures in the book we were reading.
They occupy the same living space for 17 out of every 24 hours during the weekdays, then for nearly every hour of their weekends. They don’t always share the same agenda, the same mood, or the same tastes in music. They get stir crazy sometimes during these winter days, and we watch them run around the house like untrained puppies. And yet, somehow, most of the time, they find a way to get along.
I was thinking about the girls’ relationship after reading several stories this weekend about the trials within America’s political process. There is a complete breakdown in cooperation between Democrats and Republicans, and there are citizens throughout this country who could not disagree more on so many critical issues facing the nation. Be it the economy, health care, the environment, immigration, gun control, abortion or national security, the lines seem to be drawn in permanent marker these days. While the president searches for ways to erase these lines, he finds obstructions everywhere he looks.
It used to be that the biggest rivalries in America were North Carolina-Duke and Yankees-Red Sox. Politics was always a fierce game, but inevitably there was a backroom compromise being made to bring folks together in Washington. The sharpest divisions were found within sports, and they faded from view once the games were over.
But in January of 2010, political compromise seems as distant as a world without the Internet. Today’s constant news updates, political blogs and tweets allow the rivalries to rage all day long, and while that may be more democratic in a way, it also leads to a lot more shouting.
I don’t know when it will calm down, but I’m certainly hoping it does. I’d love to see some civility, hear some dialogue, and feel some hope again. I’d like to know that people are listening, and not just hollering. I’d like to know that our media outlets are encouraging discussion, not division.
This all may seem as unlikely as a Yankees fan going out to dinner with a Red Sox fan. But actually, I’ve gone out to dinner with dozens of Boston fans. And I’ve had a great time, every time. We’ve even talked baseball, and by listening to their stories I’ve developed a deep appreciation for Boston’s history. I can even say I’ve come to admire a few Red Sox players. That actually feels good, and not at all traitorous.
It really is a nice bunk bed. The girls both look so comfortable in their little spaces. At night, the only sound we hear is the hiss of their humidifier. In the morning, they usually wake up together, pound down the stairs with their elephant feet, and – first test of the day – compromise on what kids’ show they’ll watch together.
I bring them some juice or a smoothie, and they sit together on the couch. They look up, say hi, then get back to their show. It seems that yesterday’s arguments are all forgotten. It’s a new day, and a time to work together.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Rooting for the Wrong Ending
It’s OK to root for my school, I’m telling myself. It’s not un-American.
Seven and a half years ago, I was rooting passionately for the Yankees to defeat the Arizona Diamondbacks in the World Series. I’d have done that anyway, but the events of September 11th placed the World Series storyline in a whole different light. The Bombers weren’t just playing for themselves, it seemed – they were playing for an entire city, one in need of all the inspiration it could get.
When Luis Gonzalez’ bloop single won the Series for Arizona in the last inning of the deciding game, it seemed as though someone had sabotaged the script and ended everything all wrong. Who really needed to see people hootin’ and hollerin’ in Phoenix at that time? Why was New York facing a sports-related heartbreak after all it had endured that fall? It was like leaving Dorothy in Oz with no good witch to save her, just Toto and a bunch of Munchkins.
Of course, the beauty of sports is that there is no set script (1919 World Series notwithstanding) and the thrill of the unexpected brings its share of joys and sorrows to the die-hard fan. We can write all we want about what a certain victory would mean to a town, a city, or a region, yet the facts remain that there’s a game to be played and symbolism doesn’t suit up to play; he just watches in press row.
So that takes us to tonight, in Detroit, when the North Carolina Tar Heels take on the Michigan State Spartans for the NCAA Division I men’s basketball championship. It is true, there has been incredible suffering among auto workers in Michigan and among those residents of Detroit itself. Only the heartless would lack sympathy for the thousands of unemployed in this area, or for the auto workers who are about to sacrifice portions of their precious pensions just to keep their jobs, or for the residents of Detroit who walk past empty storefronts and long for a new day. No matter how we feel toward the auto companies themselves, it has been a long, hard road for the people of Detroit, and they could use a pick-me-up as much as anyone this side of New Orleans.
It is most serendipitous that Detroit was able to host the Final Four this year, at a time when its economy could use a real jolt. Even more exciting for Michigan, though, is the fact that the Spartans are playing in the title game. As they suit up tonight, Tom Izzo’s players will try to win for themselves, for their school and for their region.
It sounds like a great, great story. The only problem here is that I went to the other school, the one that Michigan State is playing. I’d really like to see North Carolina win. And I have nothing against Detroit, auto workers or anyone in the Midwest. I just really like Carolina basketball. I feel somehow ashamed of that today, as I know the preferred plot favors the local guys winning one for Motown.
So if indeed the championship trophy is bathed in Carolina Blue tonight, I might just do one thing: I might forgive Luis Gonzalez. He didn’t mean to bruise my heart when he touched up Mariano Rivera with that well-placed single in November of ‘01. Neither did the Arizona fans. It’s just a game, and you don’t get to pick the ending. You just root for your guys, then get back to the literary devices of your own life.
Seven and a half years ago, I was rooting passionately for the Yankees to defeat the Arizona Diamondbacks in the World Series. I’d have done that anyway, but the events of September 11th placed the World Series storyline in a whole different light. The Bombers weren’t just playing for themselves, it seemed – they were playing for an entire city, one in need of all the inspiration it could get.
When Luis Gonzalez’ bloop single won the Series for Arizona in the last inning of the deciding game, it seemed as though someone had sabotaged the script and ended everything all wrong. Who really needed to see people hootin’ and hollerin’ in Phoenix at that time? Why was New York facing a sports-related heartbreak after all it had endured that fall? It was like leaving Dorothy in Oz with no good witch to save her, just Toto and a bunch of Munchkins.
Of course, the beauty of sports is that there is no set script (1919 World Series notwithstanding) and the thrill of the unexpected brings its share of joys and sorrows to the die-hard fan. We can write all we want about what a certain victory would mean to a town, a city, or a region, yet the facts remain that there’s a game to be played and symbolism doesn’t suit up to play; he just watches in press row.
So that takes us to tonight, in Detroit, when the North Carolina Tar Heels take on the Michigan State Spartans for the NCAA Division I men’s basketball championship. It is true, there has been incredible suffering among auto workers in Michigan and among those residents of Detroit itself. Only the heartless would lack sympathy for the thousands of unemployed in this area, or for the auto workers who are about to sacrifice portions of their precious pensions just to keep their jobs, or for the residents of Detroit who walk past empty storefronts and long for a new day. No matter how we feel toward the auto companies themselves, it has been a long, hard road for the people of Detroit, and they could use a pick-me-up as much as anyone this side of New Orleans.
It is most serendipitous that Detroit was able to host the Final Four this year, at a time when its economy could use a real jolt. Even more exciting for Michigan, though, is the fact that the Spartans are playing in the title game. As they suit up tonight, Tom Izzo’s players will try to win for themselves, for their school and for their region.
It sounds like a great, great story. The only problem here is that I went to the other school, the one that Michigan State is playing. I’d really like to see North Carolina win. And I have nothing against Detroit, auto workers or anyone in the Midwest. I just really like Carolina basketball. I feel somehow ashamed of that today, as I know the preferred plot favors the local guys winning one for Motown.
So if indeed the championship trophy is bathed in Carolina Blue tonight, I might just do one thing: I might forgive Luis Gonzalez. He didn’t mean to bruise my heart when he touched up Mariano Rivera with that well-placed single in November of ‘01. Neither did the Arizona fans. It’s just a game, and you don’t get to pick the ending. You just root for your guys, then get back to the literary devices of your own life.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
'The Price and Promise of Citizenship'
His name was Joe. He was livid because he had been replaced as the starting third baseman on our high school baseball team. A fellow senior had taken Joe’s spot thanks to some strong defensive glovework. As one of our home games was being played, Joe sat on the sidelines and pouted about the unfairness of it all.
As one of the team’s captains, I felt the need to speak out. “Either be a part of this team or get off the field,” I told him. Joe looked at me, picked up his equipment, and quietly walked away. He never did return to the team.
Four years later, as a senior in college, I found myself covering the University of North Carolina men’s basketball team as part of my work with the school newspaper. I spent many days watching Coach Dean Smith preach the value of teamwork and sacrifice, and I saw his student-athletes listen intently. They listened all the way to a national championship by drawing fouls, grabbing offensive rebounds and playing tight team defense. They also had a senior leader, George Lynch, who sacrificed overall statistics for the good of the larger group.
Yesterday, I was reminded of my encounter with Joe and of my time watching George and Dean in Chapel Hill. As I listened to the words of our new president, I heard him speak of sacrifice, of unselfishness, and of humility – the kinds of qualities that don’t lead to splashy headlines, yet have long been at the core of our national identity.
“What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility,” President Obama said to the millions watching around the world. He called for “a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character than giving our all to a difficult task. This is the price and the promise of citizenship.”
How do we heed these words in an American society that has let competition and a “me-first” approach to life run rampant in recent years? Are these core values still present within us? Can we play Dean Smith’s game in life itself? Can I do it?
I looked up Joe, my old baseball teammate, on one of those high school classmate web sites. Apparently, he’s been in the U.S. Coast Guard for some time now. So if I’m looking for advice on how to make sacrifices and fulfill those greater duties, it appears that Joe might just have a lot to teach me these days.
A new era of responsibility. Count me in.
As one of the team’s captains, I felt the need to speak out. “Either be a part of this team or get off the field,” I told him. Joe looked at me, picked up his equipment, and quietly walked away. He never did return to the team.
Four years later, as a senior in college, I found myself covering the University of North Carolina men’s basketball team as part of my work with the school newspaper. I spent many days watching Coach Dean Smith preach the value of teamwork and sacrifice, and I saw his student-athletes listen intently. They listened all the way to a national championship by drawing fouls, grabbing offensive rebounds and playing tight team defense. They also had a senior leader, George Lynch, who sacrificed overall statistics for the good of the larger group.
Yesterday, I was reminded of my encounter with Joe and of my time watching George and Dean in Chapel Hill. As I listened to the words of our new president, I heard him speak of sacrifice, of unselfishness, and of humility – the kinds of qualities that don’t lead to splashy headlines, yet have long been at the core of our national identity.
“What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility,” President Obama said to the millions watching around the world. He called for “a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character than giving our all to a difficult task. This is the price and the promise of citizenship.”
How do we heed these words in an American society that has let competition and a “me-first” approach to life run rampant in recent years? Are these core values still present within us? Can we play Dean Smith’s game in life itself? Can I do it?
I looked up Joe, my old baseball teammate, on one of those high school classmate web sites. Apparently, he’s been in the U.S. Coast Guard for some time now. So if I’m looking for advice on how to make sacrifices and fulfill those greater duties, it appears that Joe might just have a lot to teach me these days.
A new era of responsibility. Count me in.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
