Big Action!

Rugrat Rumble!

25

I'm assuming that the children in question are in some kind of murderous rage and cannot be reasoned with, threatened, timed-out or halted in any way other than a good ass whooping. I mean, I like kids, but if they went all hyperactive psycho zombie flesh-eater on me, according to the poll I could take 25 of them down before they overwhelmed and devoured me. Should these circumstances come to pass, this knowledge will be quite useful.

Now, if it's more of a "how many could you take down just for fun" sort of thing, the answer is one. His name is Billy, and he really has it coming.

Obama's NCAA Picks

In what has to be some kind of singularity event for political nerds and sports nerds, CBS has a story on Barack Obama's picks for the NCAA championships.

You can view his entire bracket here. He didn't pick BSU, but hey, nobody else has, either.

Your March Madness viewing rules

Today marks the tipoff of the first round of the greatest three weeks in sports. As with any event of this scope, the millions of fans tuning in will have just about as many superstitions and rituals and quirks.

F'rinstance, I used to pick one snack food and eat only that one while I watched games, and I still won't put a team through to a later round on my brackets until I've filled in all games from the previous round. You probably have your own things, and that's cool: Let your basketball-jones flag fly.

All that said, I think we can all agree on a few basic rules for maximum tournament pleasure (because even in this crowd, I know at least a couple of you will be watching). Really, it's just one rule, with a bunch of exceptions.

That rule is:

Always root for the underdog. Upsets -- your Hampton-Iowa States, your Valpo-Ole Misses -- are what makes the tournament the greatest, and in many ways the most American, of all sporting events. We love to see the little guy stick it to the Man -- the little guy in this case being some school with a direction in its name and a home gym that seats 3,500 and the Man being all the big-money, big-conference Programs who dominate the season.

Go by that rule, and you're pretty much set. There are, however, a number of caveats.

A Tremendous Machine

I love horse racing.  Grew up in the shadow of the Del Mar Racetrack ("When the surf meets the turf down at old Del Marrrrrrr" - thanks, Bing), can read you a Racing Form backwards and forwards, know my Darley from my Byerly Turk from my Godolphin...thanks very much. 

I want to share with you the story of The Best Horse Race of All Time.  Boys and girls: pull up a chair and freakin indulge me.  It's a good one. 

The Triple Crown is an elusive creature (and the richest trophy in US sports).  The Derby is a demolition, the Preakness a brutal sprint and 1.5 mile Belmont - roughest of all - is the hardest/longest any three year old horse has ever run.  Some of the greatest names in racing - Man O War, Seabiscuit, John Henry - never had a shot at winning the Triple Crown.  Only 11 horses have done it in over a century.

In 1973 there hadn't been a winner for over 20 years.  The country was in a bad place, ripped apart by Watergate and recession.  Secretariat was an unlikely uniter: a rangy chestnut colt.  George Plimpton said "He was the only honest thing in this country at the time. This huge magnificent animal who wasn't tied up in scandal, wasn't tied up in money, he just ran because he loved running."  He handily defeated the always-too-crowded Derby field, trounced the Preakness speed racers, and held the whole country enraptured for the Belmont.

Secretariat won the Belmont.  By a ridiculous 31+ lengths.  In a world-record-holding - and I mean no horse has come close, not ever, and probably never will in our lifetime - 2 minutes and 24 seconds.  He did something race clockers never thought they'd see: he ran in "negative fractions," basically meaning every stride he took was faster than the one before.

The horse made famed Chic Anderson's "he is running like a tremendous machine" one of any sports' most famous calls.  Secretariat graced the covers of Time, Newsweek and Sports Illustrated.  He was dubbed The Super Horse.  The iconic photo of jockey Ron Turcotte, clinging to a force of nature and glancing over his shoulder in disbelief, is IMHO the best sports photo ever taken.  "You couldn't find the other horses with two pairs of binoculars," said columnist Charlie Hatton.

Secretariat died in '89.  We haven't had a Triple Crown winner since '78 - come close with a few, it's usually the Belmont that does them in...tho the Preakness ultimately killed gallant and able Barbaro in '06.  Every year I tune into the sport of kings and see some amazing athletes.  But, both sad and happy, there will never be another Big Red.

Do yourself a favor.  You've read this far...now watch the most famous horse race in history: Secretariat battles Sham for about half a mile, toying with him, before pulling away and letting history know you can kiss my ass.  Secretariat flies.  You'll be happy you saw this. 

He shoots, he ... uh ...

There's a right way to do a trampoline dunk, and then there's this way:

Cannot ... stop ... laughing at this.

Dance Dance Revolution

It's cardio.  It's karaoke.  It's...CARDIOKE. 

Master Debating

You want to talk geek cred? I was a debater. In high school and college. I learned to talk out of both sides of my mouth on any issue, argue specious facts like gospel, and dressed in suits and ties on weekends. I even went to debate camp. Twice. Yeah. I was in the shit.

Maybe that's why I found this LAT article on college debate interesting. It talks about the latest trend in forensics: "performance debating." Smaller schools, unable to put the sheer man-hours of research into gathering obscure quotes and facts like powerhouses such as Harvard, are resorting to rap, personal anecdotes, and even stripping.

Actually, this is not all that new. It goes back to the oldest... um, debate... in debate: style vs. substance. In my high school years, I knew debaters who would get behind the podium and unzip their flies to distract their opponents. One guy would bring a teddy bear to rounds, who would make his arguments for him in a cute little voice. ("Bradley Bear says 'vote no' on increased federal regulations.") Others would put their evidence quotes on index cards with pornographic pictures pasted to the other side -- then when the opposing team asked to see the evidence, they'd hand it over and watch the results.

Believe it or not, many of the people who did this now have responsible positions in government.

We have a different hero every day

If this story doesn't make you a baseball fan, you have a cold, cold heart. Former major league pitcher Don Carman (who was pretty hilarious, posting a list of stock answers to reporter's questions) finds a box of old fan mail he forgot to answer. So he buys some 4- and 10-cent stamps and writes the kids back, 15 years later. Dear Mr. Carman: You are now my favorite player.

Nine seconds of funny

This isn't quite Man Getting Hit by Football, but it's pretty good.

The The Angels Angels

Please accept my invitation to have heart problems for the rest of September -- watch the Anaheim Angels. After an exciting win last night (capped by a walkoff single in the 11th by he-does-everything-but-windows utility player Chone Figgins), the Angels closed the gap on first-place Oakland to 4 1/2 games. Considering how little is left to the baseball season, this is just close enough to make it tantalizing -- particularly because seven of the last 17 games are head-to-head with Oakland, including the last four at home (I'd buy tickets if I were you). Something tells me it'll go all the way to those final games, which is the perfect way to end the year. (It will also be my undoing -- most of these games finish up at about 1 a.m. my time). Here's some guys you'll need to know to join the bandwagon:
* Vladimir Guerrero -- The powerhitter. He will swing at any ball thrown at him. He hits home runs that look like golf swings, with the baseball six inches off the ground. However, Vlad is having trouble on the field and base running. Last night, he missed what should have been a routine catch in right field. Vlad giveth and he taketh away.
* K-Rod -- Francisco Rodriguez, the closer. Mayrav, if you've made it this far, a closer is someone who pitches in just the last inning of the game, and a "K" is a strikeout. He has this weird, jerky way of pitching, and gets really emotional about striking people out. He's also one of the best closers in baseball.
* Figgins -- For fans like me who really liked David Eckstein, the 5'6'' shortstop who my wife called "pumpkin," Figgins is the man. Like Eckstein, who went to the Cardinals, Figgins is short, scrappy, and seems to get everything done. Unlike him, Figgins plays everywhere -- third base, outfield, wherever they need him. When he gets on base, he will always, always steal.
There's also a fill-in player who is deaf, the most deadpan manager ever, and, of course, the Rally Monkey. Now would be a perfect time to get one out.
(The title of this post refers to the one thing I don't like about the team -- that ridiculous name change. Did they even bother to translate The Los Angeles Angels?)