A loutish and insipic presentation of scurrilous incoherent ramblings and other dull tedious shite arranged in a convenient and affable chronological format.
Last Sunday, at Auto Club Speedway in Fontana CA, the real 2010 NASCAR season began. The Daytona 500, after all, is a spectacle, an aberration, a crap-shoot, and where one finishes there is a no indication of future performance. ((Yes, I’m talking to YOU Derrike Cope)). The Auto Club 500 last Sunday was a more accurate race for soothsayers and pundits to begin with in the their various divinations of how the season will unfold.
Jamie McMary continued his Daytona momentum by grabbing the pole, but the air rushed out of that balloon as he finished a more expected 17th. Now don’t get me wrong, the move back to Gannasi is a good thing for McMary, and he will have some good finishes as the season rolls on. But now the real season will begin to sort itself out. LasVegas will be the next puzzle piece to be fit into place.
At Califormia, the Roushketeers, with the exception of Dave Ragan ((23rd)), did well. Matt, with new crew chief Todd Parrott, finished 7th. Biff was 10th. The Carl ((who just had his first kid this week, a little 8 lb 4 oz canned ham named Anne—congrats to Carl and his wife)) finished 13th. My new favourite lout Kevin Harvick is getting himself in stride and finished 2nd (more on that after the bump). And the Jeff Burton (3rd) bandwagon is starting to get fired up. Monsieur Bowyer finished 8th. Nice to see all the Childress boys in the top 10, at least for one descending series of moments. Kurt Bsch had a solid car….Tony Stewart finished strong, as did Joey Logano ((who rebounded nicely from Saturday’s little spin through the weed)), and Mark Martin, and all were top 10.
But as is well known, there are machinations, and the there are evil machinations. There is ability, and then there is damned ability. But none of those count for much more than what they would ordinarily count for when you also have luck.
Yes, I know it’s the Holidays. Christmas, New Years and all that and I hope it’s happy. Also, it’s not only the end of the year, but also the end of the Decade. But if you’re expecting anything Holiday or Fin de Year/Decade related, or a sad parade of Top 10 Lists, well, best prepare yourself to be disappointed. Or at least, dispense with those expectations entirely and then you won’t be disappointed at all, and might, when all is said and done be somewhat pleasently surprised, albeit vaguely.
While having a beer at the Grumpy Troll this afternoon, I got to wondering about when, exactly men’s basketball shorts stopped being short. There had to be a moment, or a descending series of moments when that occurred. What got me thinking about that was that I was watching the replay of last night’s Wisconsin vs. UW-Milwaukee basketball game, and UW-Milwaukee has this big galoot trudging around out there, 6’7″ 310 pound (yes, you read that right) James Eayrs, who looks more like one of those Eastern Europeans sumo-wrestlers. Anyway, those basketball shorts on him looked especially ridiculous….you could’ve used them to wrap up a Minneapolis-Moline Tractor as a Christmas present. If fact, he looked like a Minnneapolis-Moline tractor. So it made me wonder…when did this goofy trend start.
Doing a little digging, I re-discovered my memories of University of Michigan Fab 5 from the 1991-92 season. The Fab 5: Juwan Howard, Jalen Rose, Chris Webber, Jimmy King and Ray Jackson bagn the 1991-92 season as freshman finished the season by winning the NCAA Championship. They popularized and propelled the trend towards baggier and longer basketball shorts. When they first hit the courts in their long baggy shorts, and black shoes and socks…they were like nothing anyone had ever seen…and they played like nothing anyone had ever seen. Long and baggy became cool and pretty soon College and then NBA player began adopting the new look. BUT…
The look didn’t start with the Fab 5 however. While I haven’t pinned this down to the exact moment…the actual origin of the look began with the Arkansas Razorbacks basketball team during the 1990-91 season. Back then, the Razorbacks were not nationally televised and though a pretty good team that made it to the Elite 8 that season under head coach Nolan Richardson, they weren’t poised on the brink, so to speak. They didn’t have the flair and the style that Michigan had the following year.
Early in the 1991 season, Michigan assistant coach Brian Dutcher noticed his players pulling their shorts down to their hips and wearing their jerseys untucked. Remembering seeing the Arkansas team wearing longer shorts the previous season, he ordered shorts for the Fab 5 to wear that were about 2 to 4 inches longer than average. Juwan Howard liked them, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Well…it really IS the end of the Noughties…and as much as it galls me to spit those words off my tongue, I guess there is no avoiding the reality of it. And a dreadful decade it was from a cultural, political, economic, social, emotional, ethical standpoint. If not for sports, the Noughts would have been even more a total miserable hell than it already was.
Sports survived it all. Even the Milwaukee Brewers were able to rise above by the end of the decade.
Last Sunday at Homestead/Miami Speedway, history was made and despite all my season-long protestations to the contrary, I was on hand to watch it being made, albeit via television at my local brewpub, The Grumpy Troll. The fact that Denny Hamlin won the race in dominating fashion, leading 71 laps, including the one that counted…the fact that Denny Hamlin had a pretty darn good 2009 season winning 4 races and finishing 5th in the points…was overshadowed of course by the damned ability of the guy who finished 5th in the race, Jimmie Johnson.
What you saw Sunday night as Denny Hamlin took the checkered flag, was history being made. History that will most likely never repeat itself again. Jimmie Johnson joined a very special group of drivers by winning his 4th NASCAR championship, but what set it about from the championships of those who came before him (Richard Petty & Dale Earnhardt won 7 each; Jeff Gordon & Ron Hornaday Jr. have won 4 each). NONE of those drivers ever won 4 in a row. It’s remarkable accomplishment, and Jimmie Johnson is to be lauded and congratulated. But…
That’s just it. But… I have to put that in there. I can’t quite embrace the greatness of Jimmie Johnson the way I should. Since 2002 he’s been a dynasty unlike any other in motorsports. Or in just about any sports. Baseball hasn’t had a 4-peat since the 1953 New York Yankees did it (and the 1939 Yanks did a 5-peat before them). Hockey hasn’t seen one since the 1983 New York Islanders. In tennis, only Don Budge in 1938 and Rod Laver in 1962 & 1968 have done a Grand Slam is a single season. And in golf, not even Tiger Woods has done it in a single season (his slam of 4 in row was over two seasons). And just at the moment we should be applauding Jimmie Johnson and singing his praises to the heavens, the only thing I can honestly think of to say is ENOUGH ALREADY!! It’s a shame really that greatness can do this.
The main problem with greatness is that after awhile everyone, except the truly die-hard fan, tend to get sick of it. It’s fun for awhile, but then it gets tired and old. Unless you were a die-hard Patriots fan, you loved it when the New York Giants beat the undefeated New England Patriots in Super Bowl 42.
But don’t get me wrong, we love our dynasties. We prefer greatness over mediocrity. After all, I grew up during the glory years of the Green Bay Packers in the 60′s and was also a big fan of the Boston Celtics, who won 8 championships in a row from 1959 through 1966. But even during their glory years, the Packers could never muster more than 3 in a row. The next NFL dynasty, the great Steelers teams of the 70′s, while winning 4 Super Bowls, could never muster more than 2 in row.
So yes, Jimmie Johnson’s 4th NASCAR Championship in a row is all so pretty and beautiful, BUT….
Since a notorious NASCAR cheater is going to become a 4 time NASCAR Championship Crew Chief tomorrow, and since said crew chief and his evil mechanations have been punished in the past, it seems apropos to raise a few questions about cheating in the ultimate world of soccer, the World Cup.
Thursday’s match between Ireland and France ended with the French beating Ireland 2-1 on a goal by William Gallas at the 103 minute mark. This victory propelled France into the World Cup and eliminated Ireland from the competition. Ordinarily I would note this alacrity and a sigh and then move on to other things, such as the 4-0 ass-whipping my Chelsea Blues just put on the hapless Wolverhampton Wolves (or Wanderers, but I prefer to call them Wolves). Instead, I am more than dismayed as I write this that France gets to move on…in fact I am pig-biting mad. The game winning goal had an assist from France’s premier striker Thierry Henry—he had a hand in it, quite literally. He used his hand to deflect the ball to William Gallas. Against the rules, cheating, and he even admitted it after the game.
But unlike NASCAR, where he would no doubt be called to the hauler along with his coach for a few choice words with Mike Helton before the victory was disallowed and penalties and fines assessed for violation rule 12-4-A Actions Detrimental To Stock Car Auto Racing, in FIFA, there is no such recourse against cheating or a rules violation. The Swedish referee didn’t see the hands violation (allegedly). And unlike in the NFL, there is no instant replay in FIFA or any of the major soccer leagues. The Irish coach couldn’t throw out the challenge flag. There was no one in a replay booth, who could have called for a review….in the NFL, any scoring play can be challenged and reviewed.
And thus, the cheating French move on to South Africa in 2010. I hope we draw them in the first round so Landon Donovan can jam it up their ass.
No matter how great a player is, there is no excuse for cheating…in fact there is even LESS of an excuse. As much as Chad Knaus’s reputation as a cheater and rules-bender precedes him, he at least has paid severe penalties for his actions. Thierry Henry, on the other hand, will get off, as will his team-mates, pretty much scotfree.
Other than a little furious public relations hit, Thierry and his team-mates get to move on. And I’m sure they don’t give a rats ass about what the people or the government of Ireland or soccer fans worldwide might think or feel about this. And maybe the furor might have been less if Thierry had simply denied it. But he admitted to cheating on that play. After the game was over ofcourse. Even his former coach at Arsenal, Arsene Wegner (who is French, btw) thinks Thierry’s a pitiful loser for not admitting to the foul right away, in the game, when it happened, so something could have been done about it. But unfortunately, for the greater good, including his own reputation, nothing can and will be done about. It is already in the books. And I’m sure that even if the game was replayed, the French would have have won anyway. But it’s principle of the thing (or the lack thereof). And maybe the luck of the draw.
You know what they say about the luck of the Irish…
Jimmie Johnson’s wreck in the early laps of last Sunday’s Dickie’s 500 at the Texas Motorspeedway gave a few of the Chasers a bit of hope that this year’s Chase would become competitive once again. Johnson lost 111 of points, but he still holds a respectable 73 point lead on Mark Martin, and a healthy 112 lead on Jeff Gordon. Kurt Busch, Tony Stewart, Juan Pablo Montoya, and the rest, are for all intents and purposes are out of it and will spend the next two Sundays racing for Pride, Dignity, Style and Culture. Mostly for pride and style, I would imagine. Since style and culture and NASCAR are ofttimes incompatible concepts.
The numbers, of course, don’t lie. And as close as the leads seems, and as tenuous a grip on that lead Jimmie Johnson might have, the likelihood of him falling on his ass again like he did at Texas (through no fault of his own) is not very likely. Yes, Mark Martin and Jeff Gordon have a fighting chance, and they will fight like hell to take the lead and win it at Homestead. But the reality of it is that this sudden ray of hope is really just a false alarm.
Unfortunately for Mark Martin and Jeff Gordon, there is no magical ability that they can summon to defeat Jimmie Johnson. All things being equal, and they most likely are and will be, the Evil Mechanations of Chad Knaus and the Damned Ability of Jimmie Johnson will carry those two to Victory Lane at Homestead a week from tomorrow.
I don’t think they will wrap it up at Phoenix, but you never know. Stranger things have and still could happen. But not bloody likely. Does the Chase suddenly become more watchable now? Maybe. But…the racing is still a bit more boring than in years past. The thrill is diminished. We will all root for the underdog, they same way we’d root for Phil Mickelson and Steve Stricker on the last day of, say the Masters or the US Open with Tiger holding a 1 or 2 stroke lead. We root for Mickelson and Stricker, and yet every time they seem to cut the lead or tie, Tiger finds a away to pull away and the stroll up the 18th fairway is just a mere formality. This is how the Chase will end this year. Martin and Gordon will make it close, but from the first lap to the end, it will be Jimmie Johnson leading the parade, Jimmie Johnson who will be hoisting the Championship Trophy for the remarkable 4th year in a row.
“Hi, I’m Kyle Busch and you are cordially invited to my Pants Party…”
NASCAR’S other two touring series, the Camping World Truck Series, and the Nationwide (Busch) series are pretty much over and done (and one them WAS locked up after last night’s race…more on that in a minute). But nobody seems to mind. Not too much anyway. Most of the speculation and alacritous commentary was about celebrating early, before Ford Championship Weekend concludes a weekend from now in Miami. What would Ron Hornaday and his guys do, and what will Kyle Busch and his guys do when they seal the deal here at Phoenix? More to the point, what will Busch and Hornaday do NEXT Friday and Saturday at Homestead, drive around backwards sucking a beer and burning heaters for a lap or three and then park it and say Fock ALL!!? ((I DID mention that as I write this, one deal IS already sealed, ne?))
Kyle Busch has an insurmountable 247 point lead on Carl Edwards. He’s up 267 on Brad Kesolowski who’s moving to #12 Penske Dodge next season. In fourth place, Jason Leffler (yes, THAT Jason Leffler) is 1000 points off the pace. Yes, you read that right. In Nationwide, this season, Kyle Busch really was terrifying true vampire. He made everyone, even his fellow Buschwackers, look like stuffed animals.
As for Ron Hornady, well…. Ron Hornaday is THE toughest guy in all of NASCAR bar none. Tougher even than Mark Martin. Hornaday could kick any one’s ass.
And what he accomplished Friday night….well, we’ll get to that after the jump.
By the way, Ron Hornaday will come to your house and kick your ass like hell wont have it if you go to the jump before Joni Mitchell song is over. You have been warned!
Once again. The Amp Energy 500 tees off in a few minutes, but it just doesn’t seem the same as it did this spring, or in years past. The long shadow of Jimmie Johnson looms over the Talladega Superspeedway. It doesn’t feel right. The excitement has been whisked away like the autumn leaves. And the trees are like jilted brides stripped bare by their bachelors.
Let’s try this again.
It’s Talladega, Baby!!
Nope. It just doesn’t feel right. I feel a bit cheated by the whole of things this season. I feel especially cheated by the irrevocable fact of Nature that qualifying on Friday was rained out, and the field was set by owner points. Which means, you guessed it, Jimmie Johnson and his damned ability gets a head start that he doesn’t need on everybody else.
Now while Talladega is always a crap-shoot…and the Big One can happen at anytime and wipe out an entire season of effort. The chances, to be honest, are slim that Jimmie Johnson will be adversely affected by anything that happens today at Talladega.
So what else is there to look forward to, guys. Well, it’s Talladega, and that means TITS! Right?
Sorry guys. Not this time I’m afraid. The mood has been spoiled by the evil mechanations of Chad Knaus. Blame it all on him. Blame it all on Jimmie Johnson and his damned ability.
Sorry guys, no tits this time. I know it’s not Talladega without ‘em. But…aww fuck it….
That pretty much sums up the Chase after last Sunday’s Tum’s Fast Relief 500 at Martinsville. Sure, Denny Hamlin scored an impressive win. It’s a track, like Pocono, he’s supposed to win at. And he did. But…
The damned ability of Jimmie Johnson and the evil mechanations of Chad Knaus will simply not go away. Jimmie Johnson finished second increasing his lead on Mark Martin and the rest of Chasers. Short of some sort of miracle, like a Close Encounter of the 4th Kind, this Chase is over. Finito!
Hand him the damned trophy and start the Daytona 500 countdown clock.
Meanwhile, NASCAR has to come up with some solutions to make the Chase more competitive and interesting. For both the drivers and the fans. But…
One shudders to think what kind of nonsense Brian France and Mike Helton will/can/could cook up THIS time to save the Chase, the NASCAR, their legacies…. Brrrr!! The horror!!
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