Wednesday Wishes

Enjoy Wednesday sports fans. It's national signing day and national pride day (via U.S. Soccer tackling Mexico in Houston.) After that it's a long hard road out of February and into March Madness.

As much as I'm looking forward to it, I do have a couple of ideas that could make a spectacular sports day even better:

1) National Signing Day participation - As fans of a college football program we have a lot invested in National Signing Day. Lot of dollars, lot of man hours, lot of needless fretting. At best, I know next to nothing about most of these kids. If I'm lucky I've seen a shoddy YouTube highlight tape set to an even worse hip-hop soundtrack. If I'm unlucky I've seen a 40 time and an arbitrary star ranking, neither of which are nearly as good an indication of future success as many would like to believe.

The point is, however, that when a player chooses Nebraska he chooses me. His talent is validated by wanting to play for my team and I am validated by him wanting to play for my team and, indirectly, me. I helped get that kid here by contributing to the greater whole of Nebraska football. That's honestly the only way I can rationalize all the interest in recruiting.

Operating under the assumption that I am at least partially responsible for any player who signs with Nebraska, I'm left a little dismayed with the set up for tomorrow. Letters of intent can start rolling in as early as 7am EDT which means I've got a full day of website checking on tap for tomorrow. But why does it have to be that way? Why can't I get the letters of intent sent directly to my inbox and enjoy the fruits of our labor along with the coaching staff?

I'd be more than happy to pay for this service, $10 or $20 seems fair, and I know there has to be an intern or some lackey in the athletic department who could quickly scan the LOIs and send out mass emails to the thousands of people who've paid for the service.

Imagine sitting at work Wednesday and getting instant alerts rather than constantly refreshing your website of choice. Look at that! Sam McGuffie decommitted from Michigan to attend Nebraska. Amazing. Wait, I just got another email, Terrelle Pryor wants to play for Bo too? I can't believe it. Oh, here's Baker's letter. Way to stay the course.

I'm telling you, it's a cash cow.

2. A True Border War

Despite their recent success, the US cannot beat Mexico on its own turf which might ground this idea before it even gets a test flight but I'll give it hell anyway.

The last friendly between the US and Mexico took place in Arizona. While technically a home game for the US it was hardly a home crowd and the match got pretty chippy towards the end. It's doubtful that Houston, with its proximity to Mexico and...well...Texas, will be much different. Expect a hostile crowd and a fair amount of cards. That's just the way things work when the neighbors get together on the pitch.

But if the US is going to play home games away from home why not take it the logical next step? I'm talking about the ultimate soccer facility in the western hemisphere. Maybe it's in Laredo/Nuevo Laredo or El Paso/Juarez, the location isn't really important, but what is important is that the field is exactly half US territory half Mexican territory. The Rio Grande marks the center line.

Think about it, we could stage (at least half of) the first ever self-contained, truly international soccer match. There would be American beer and food on one half of the stadium and Mexican food and beer on the other. Each side would be responsible for the upkeep and ultimate condition of only their half of the stadium. The fans would be separated by a simple chain link fence sort of like the jail scene in Colors.

Really, what could go wrong? I love American soccer because it's a rare chance to partake in world politics through sport with none of the repercussions but what's been missing thus far is some real No Country for Old Men level violence.

I think this idea solves that problem.

Morning Walk-thru - Celtics "Draft" Jesus Shuttlesworth

Celtics get better?...I was a bit concerned with what the Celtics were going to do with their 5th pick last night. The first three picks were pretty much set, Conley Jr. wasn't likely to be around, and a boy named Yi was probably the next best and he was neither exciting (what Boston really needs in my opinion) nor a proven commodity against top-flight competition.

So the Celtics selected Jeff Green from Georgetown and shipped him and some role players to Seattle for actor/shooting guard Ray Allen and some different role players. Honestly, it's about as good as they could've done in that position. They didn't get any younger--Ray Allen probably isn't going to be the face of the franchise for the next five years--but they did get better. I think.

Allen's a 10-year veteran, rock solid from the line (Career 88.8%), a proven scorer (26.4 in 06-07), and one of the best shooters in the game. Pair him with Paul Pierce and Al Jefferson and, in the pathetic Eastern Conference, your a playoff contender.

Still, as good as Allen is, he's not that exciting. I don't think Celtics fans are buying season tickets right now to see Allen and, more than anything, that's what Boston needs. A reason to be excited about the Celtics. A reason to watch. Something to get us from Patriots to Sox.

Maybe winning will bring that excitement and maybe the addition of Allen will bring those wins, but it's tough to feel like Boston is building towards anything. The only thing close to a building block is Big Al, but he's never been an All-Star to this point and by the time Pierce and Allen fade away Jefferson will be midway through his career. Then what?

And those are just the questions from the first round. Somebody will have to explain to me why the Celtics passed on Nick Fazekas when Kendrick Perkins--who sleepwalks through games to the tune of 4.5 ppg and approximately 40 bpm--is still your starting center.

Honestly, I'd have preferred that Celtics use one of their picks to give Perkins back. Let the guy have the college experience.

Don't Cry for Us Argentina...Not surprisingly, the US National team--also known as 11 guys who happened to be Americans and already had passports--got smoked by Argentina 4-1.

I guess it's worth it to get the young national team hopefuls some experience in enemy territory, but it would nice to be able to care about this competition.

Bid early, bid often...Considering the current state of Nebraska merchandising, eBay is consistently the best place to find wearable/collectible Cornhusker swag. Need proof? How about your own, handmade Bob Devaney doll?

Check out the old ball coach at right. Love the simplicity of his jacket and hat. Makes that adidas stuff look ridiculous in comparison. His whistle probably shouldn't be the same size as either his fist or his clipboard, and I wonder why he's so unhappy but that's just nitpicking.

And what's better, he's part of a set! Round out your collection with The Jet, Van Bronson, and--my favorite--Rich Glover.

Don't delay, the auction ends today at 18:30.

Lord Stanley's Cup is Gold with Envy

Hockey is dead. It's barely even arguable at this point. When I learned that the NHL was headed for Versus I was worried that it would tarnish any sort of sports credibility the PBR had built up on that network.

After the '06 World Cup was over my endangered species friend, a devoted hockey AND soccer fan, and I were discussing what would replace hockey as America's fourth sport. The only possible replacement we could come up with was soccer, even after considering the sad state of the MLS. (You can try this game at home, just don't give me MMA as an answer. I know it's huge, but it's a different animal entirely.)

Yesterday, that notion got a little bit of vindication with the report that Sunday's Gold Cup final between the US and Mexico drew a higher rating than the final game of the Stanley Cup. In a score befitting both sports, it was Soccer 2.5 Hockey 1.8.

Now that's not a huge margin--41% actually--but here's the kicker: that's only based on Univision's viewers. Forty-one percent more people watched a soccer game--a game that didn't mean a whole hell of a lot in the grand scheme of things--in Spanish than watched hockey's championship on broadcast television. So we're not even counting those people, like myself, who watched on Fox Soccer.

What does this mean for the MLS? Probably nothing. Watching the national team and watching Real Salt Lake are two completely different things. For your average American, I would guess that rooting for the US, in the only underdog role we likely have left, is a very patriotic thing to do. But talking at length about the Texas-dominated Western Conference standings? Well that still feels like communism.

This is why international soccer hooked me and it looks to be working on a lot of others as well.

The Gold Cup is Ours

USA! USA! USA!...You just can't lose the Gold Cup on your own soil in front of Miss USA. The US didn't, but it looked dire after the first half.

The US trailed for the first time in the entire tournament following a goal in the 44th minute from Mexico's Jose Andreas Guardado. It was Mexico's first goal on American turf in nearly 800 minutes of action, which is surprising when you consider the US can't play anywhere in the lower-48 with a homefield advantage.

Despite the fact that Soldier Field looked like Esatdio Azteca North, the US drew even with a PK by Donovan and then took the lead for good on a brilliant 20-yard volley by Benny Feilhaber.

Now the Gold Cup is sort of like the NL Central of the soccer world, but the win does cement the fact that the US has surpassed Mexico in the world pecking order. The US is 9-2-1 against El Tri since 2000 and 8-0-1 here in the land of the free.

If we can accept that as fact then we raise some larger questions: How big of a step is this in the maturation of US Soccer? Is it worth something to be the bully on the block, the best team in CONCACAF? Where does this win put the US in the bigger, Western Hemisphere picture? Could we be the third best team over here behind Brazil and Argentina?

Well get an answer to that final question soon enough. The US kicks off the Copa America against Argentina on June 28.

Photo: Nam Y. Huh/Getty Images

Morning Walk-thru - Faster than a cannonball

The wrecking ball that is...the Colorado Rockies just swept the Yankees. New York came to Coors as the supposed hottest team in baseball and the Rockies--winners of 7 of the last 8, 6 straight series, owners of the best record in June--laughed in their faces.

Here's a stat for you: the Rockies now have more wins against the AL East (9) than the Yankees (8) do.

Oh, and please go to MLB.com and vote for Matt Holliday. The guy needs to be an All-Star starter.

Goodnight Canada...The US slept through another Gold Cup win last night, beating Canada 2-1. They'll try to sweep North America against Mexico in the final on Sunday. (Although you could say Mexico has already won.)

I urge you to check out this wrap-up of the game by That's On Point. It's fantastic.

Hi Rob...Michael Barrett's replacement filled in admirably yesterday, going 1-3 with an RBI and two walks. Meanwhile, Barrett, batting fifth, went 0-4 with three strikeouts.

Cubs win!

Morning Walk-thru - Wynalda Scores!!!

Coach Taylor totally takes the heat off Altman (almost)...I wonder if former Arkansas head coach Dana Altman felt any kinship with Dillon High's Eric Taylor last night during Friday Night Lights.

For those that missed it, Taylor took the TMU job without consulting the family, a whole bunch of other stuff happened--divorce, infidelity, break-up, trip to police HQ, your typical week following a high school football team--and I was sure that, in the end, Dana would have some company as Coach Taylor reversed field and decided to stay at Dillon.

But, this being television, that will have to wait for next week. For now, Altman, you're on your own.

Hey! Hey!...The Cubs got the first win of 07 and they did it in an unusual fashion, making actual baseball plays. They got their sac bunts down (except for Lilly, that is, but that ended up working out), hit the ball with runners in scoring position and generally didn't blow it. Shocking really, especially when you consider that Bronson "Worst Hair in the Majors" Arroyo struck out nine in seven innings.

But Lilly was better. His line: 7 IP, 1 ER, 1 BB, 9 K. The Cubs took their lumps for overspending on Lilly, but I had a feeling early in February that he might exceed expectations.

Of course, I can't back that up with anything, but I firmly believe that Lilly won't be a disappointment when it's all said and done. There are plenty of players on this squad who can fill that role.

Soriano has certainly been aggressive early on, Lee looked awful on each of his three strikeouts, and Sweet Lou jumped all over Ryan Dempster after giving up a walk in the ninth and delivered the shortest mound meeting of the season but we'll save the sorrow for another day.

Cubs win!

Meet my hero, Eric Wynalda...One of the fastest ways to my heart is to hate Jim Rome, and, unless it was just the beer talking, that appears to be the case with US Soccer's Uncle Sam.

In an interview with Christian Franek of FulhamUSA.com, Wynalda had this to say about the king of the jungle:

You will never get a guy, in me, who is more of a believer in the American player. Jim Rome can suck my ****! And he should be very afraid, because I’m the kind of guy, if I get too many drinks in me, I will club his ass. I’ve been on with Jim Rome, and I said, “Let me get this straight, you’re more impressed with water polo???"

That's the money quote and odds are you've already seen it, but what's interesting is that the rest of the interview is pretty enthralling in it's own right. Wynalda shoots from the hip regarding everybody: Landon Donovan, Juergen Klinsmann, Sunil Gulati and, his old friend, Bruce Arena.

Could Wynalda "fix" American soccer like he claims in the interview? Who knows, but it feels like he's trying and that's good enough for me.

A lot of people can't stand to listen to Ron Santo call a Cubs game, but, and I'm probably the least impartial source on this, love it because his pain and frustration is so apparent over the air.

It's the same deal with Wynalda but on a different scale. Feeling dismayed by the Cubs is just about the most pedestrian feeling in all of sports, but that love and loathe relationship with U.S. Soccer is entirely novel for a national audience. Or at least it should be.

If loving America (and its soccer team), drinking a few too many on occasion, and cursing a little too often is wrong then you might as well be Jim Rome.

Rack it.

Disclaimer: If you only care about sports talk, you can stop reading now as this last bit is solely TV related.

The Office turns tonight?...Tonight's episode could be the turning point for The Office. As good as the show is, I've always felt like the dominant Jim-Pam dynamic might be the show's eventual undoing.

Quite simply, the tension between the two is the storyline. It's brilliantly funny and people turn in for a lot of different reasons, but Jim-Pam has become one of the great fictional relationships of our time. Eight-five percent of viewers care more about that fictional relationship than they do their own and how do you resolve that? This is what makes the show more than just a series of sketches.

I don't foresee a season where the two lethargic gazers are together, because, well, what then? Michael and Jan? Dwight and Angela? It doesn't matter how funny the show is, the Romeo and Juliet dynamic accounts for quite a bit and everything else will fail in comparison.

So that means it can't happen until the final episode ever, but how long are people willing to wait? Four years? Seven years? Ten years? Other sitcoms have stuck around for that long and none of them were as good as The Office so if anyone can pull it off, it might be this crew.

But honestly, I'm more interested to see how they play it rather than how it plays out, and that makes me a little uneasy...and probably a victim of overthnking.

(Aside: Thank you, NBC, for finally realizing that putting Scrubs between The Office and 30 Rock was like swapping crap for creme in an Oreo. Nine'o'clock no longer tastes like shit.)

Morning Walk-thru - There was a lot of mud, but it was THEIR mud

Another stellar episode...of Friday Night Lights last night. They played in a monsoon in a cow pasture and Dillon won to "go to state" and it was all intercut with an attempted rape sequence. Can't say I've ever seen that before, but it was surprisingly powerful in the face of being creepy and I think that pretty much sums up the first season of the show.

Let's face it, this is a soap opera with football. The melodrama is always on the brink of overwhelming you but it never quite does...because there's football. Bi-polar disorders, rampant infidelity, paraplegic self-pity, rape, algebra, it all sounds like a bit much...but there's football. Hell, the Killers were prominently featured last night...but there was football...and Texas.

I don't think you can underestimate the importance of the setting. Where else could this show take place? Greasy Whataburgers, Wranglers and oil derricks add a lot of flavor.

All in all, a great hour of my life and the good news is, according to the post-show promo for next week's episode, we've got an "exceptional" one on tap for next week.

Who says these games don't mean anything?...Ladies and gentlemen, your 2007 Mayor's Cup champions...the Boston Red Sox. By defeating the Twins last night 5-4 Boston won the preseasons series with Minnesota and the cup that comes with it.

How come nobody knows about this? Watching the game last night was the first I'd ever heard of it. Apparently because the Twins and Sawx both reside in Ft. Myers for the Spring and play each other twice a week, they created a traveling trophy and now it will reside in the Bean for all of 2007.

The Dice-K signing is already paying dividends.

Speaking of Spring Training games...I have no desire to go to one. Watching that game last night, the crowd kinda freaked me out.

First off, being Florida, the median age was about 57. Secondly, everyone just kind of sits there silently. Sure there are some snow birds who genuinely care about seeing a bunch of non-roster invitees get their ABs but it seems like most people were just there to watch and not cheer.

It looked like a video game baseball crowd, just a mash of beige colored flesh and blue and red t-shirts that occasionally created a dull roar, which I suppose is fitting; pretend baseball games get pretend crowds, just like on the PS2.

Spring isn't just for the players, it's for me too. I need it to get ready as a fan and sorting out who I actually have to follow and who I don't is the manager's job. I don't need to see the auditions.

An armistice for Uncle Sam's Army...In a painfully ugly game, the U.S. finished with a nil-nil draw in their friendly with Guatemala last night, putting an end to the three-game winning streak that had enraptured the nation during a lackluster N.C.A.A. Tournament. (Yeah, it's true. Where were you?)

The lone bright spot for the Yanquis that my untrained soccer eye could see was Eric Wynalda. The former national team player has continued to provide honest, sometimes scathing, analysis during the games, displaying his passion for U.S. Soccer while keep them in check with frequent critiques.

Even better, however, is his readily apparent disdain for every other team in CONCACAF. Seeing yet another Guatemalteco fall to the pitch like his Achilles had just been slashed by an American spike was entertaining for two reasons: 1) flopping is funny, and 2) waiting to hear what Wynalda would say. (And don't even get him started on Mexico).

In a somewhat related note, this football game in Texas was not played in a pasture. Ironically, it looked like it was played in a large high school football stadium.

The Morning Walk-thru - Hoya Saxa!

Ladies and Gentlemen, your Final Four...You can be forgiven if you're excitement isn't quite what it should be. With two 2-seeds and two 1-seeds surviving, it looks like the quiet dude who doesn't like sports and took the chalk out of ignorance is getting the last laugh.

I'm glad Georgetown won as they're the only rooting interest I have left. Don't like Florida, loathe Ohio State and UCLA...well...if Bill Walton wasn't like some crazed skeletal cheerleader I could probably stomach the Bruins. Alas, Bill is a crazed skeletal cheerleader so Go Hoyas!

Put the whistles away?...Speaking of the Hoyas, Tyler Hansbrough got absolutely mugged in overtime going up for a shot that was partially blocked while Tyler's arm was partially severed and, in an alarming trend, the refs did nothing. But that's just the latest example.

Georgetown was still playing and able to dismember Hansbrough because, apparently, traveling is not a rules violation in the last minute of close N.C.A.A. Tournament games. I believe both of the above examples fall under an old, little-known referee's code known as the "I Have no Balls Exception."

I understand the value of letting the boys play a bit, hell, we've come to expect it. It's masculine. It's American. It allows us to say "survive and advance" and mean it literally. But it seems to have gotten out of hand in this year's tournament.

The old adage is, if you don't notice the officials then they've done their job, but at this point they've become conspicuous in their absence. Somebody needs to step up and just make the call that they would've made in the first two minutes of the game, otherwise we might as well play basketball for 32 minutes and, say, jai alai for the last eight because that's almost what we're getting now.

I imagine Chris Webber must be torn up watching these games because, if it had been this way in 1993, his plea for a timeout wouldn't be a technical. The refs would all just look at each other, then at him, and let them play on.

See, a technical would influence the outcome of the game and that's not for them to decide, it's for the players.

Don't Tread on US...Landon Donovan scored a hat trick and the US MNT is 3-0 in international play. It's probably too early to get too excited but we do have snazzy new blue pinstriped jerseys that remind me of Ron Santo's Cubs.

Check out the goals below. Landon absolutely laces that last one...




Peyton exposes SNL...After two and a half seasons full of Manning commercials, we know that Peyton is a droll, if not convincing, actor. So seeing him on SNL this weekend was kind of like watching him play quarterback: not very flashy but deadly efficient.

What was surprising, however, is how Peyton's lack of range was totally overshadowed by the utter awfulness of the writing on the show. For some reason, I still watch SNL pretty regularly and I would say the vast majority of the skits fall totally flat. They're seven minute torture sessions that hammer one joke into oblivion. Peyton's chops looked pretty good by comparison. How did that happen?

Imagine if Tina Fey went on Pros vs. Joes and totally dominated Peyton Manning in a football challenge, reading his eyes, baiting him into poor throws and picking him off four times. That's what Saturday night was like. Peyton was funnier than 10 or 15 people who are paid to be funny.

This was good, though...

A Rattlesnake, Soccer and the American Way

When the Angel of Death comes down after me, I’ll smile and say, “I grew up without ever playing a minute of sanctioned youth soccer,” and this will make me a very unique individual indeed. Currently, as with every Saturday, there is a mass of little legs magnetically following a ball in the park below my window. For the eight- and nine-year-old mosh pit down there this is supposed to be a game, some character will hopefully be built and it will all be mostly forgotten by the time they are teenagers. This is the American way.

But as with other suburban touchstones like recreational drug use and limo rides to prom, soccer was not a part of the western Nebraska public schools curriculum. (Save that stuff for the big-city bedroom communities. The Ralstons, Millards and Bellevues of the east.) No one I knew played sanctioned soccer.

Our few recess experiments with the world’s most popular sport took place on a hilly dirt field that was 90 yards wide and 250 yards long. The entire back line was one giant goal and oftentimes four goalkeepers were employed to supply adequate coverage while entire classes teamed up, 20 or 30 to a side, to pepper the four poor souls with shots. Give up a goal and the offending keeper had to immediately punt, or “sky-bomb” in the parlance of the times, the ball back to the opposition as punishment for his or her futility. It wasn’t soccer, it was war, and that is something we understood. This is the American way.

***

In 1993, a foreign exchange student/invader arrived from Sweden and bunked up with a classmates’ family. His name was Peter Saal, and learning of his European proclivity to kicking things, he was quickly named the starting place-kicker for the high school football team and went on to routinely shank extra points. Frustrated by his failure with the oblong ball, he decided to try to spread the soccer gospel in our rural community. In a lot adjacent to the junkyard, four goals were erected and we were instructed to arrive each Saturday to learn the game.

I went and juggled and dribbled with every one else, but the game never really took. As one of the few mustachioed seventh graders, I was quite accustomed to exerting the puberty-power afforded me in the traditional American sports. A new game and level playing field didn’t interest me. Dominance did. I went on to set a junior high football world record for touchdowns scored on tight end reverses and Peter Saal went home, dejectedly dribbling a ball from the Stockholm airport to his Scandinavian home.

***

Twelve years, three World Cups and approximately 4000 shaves later, I’m ready for this year’s tournament. I’m excited. I’m a hypocrite. Somewhere Peter Saal is smiling. He has finally won the upper-hand and it is all because of a rattlesnake.

Living for three years with a roommate who exclusively watched the Fox Soccer Channel, I started to learn a bit about the game. I now know that standings are printed in “tables” and teams wear “kits” not uniforms and Palermo’s “kits” are pink and they don’t seem to care. (For me, the perfect example of the Euro-exoticism and élan that started to draw me to soccer.)

But even a newcomer’s fascination and desire to learn couldn’t help me make heads or tails of a mid-season Bundesliga table. I needed a rooting interest. I needed a war, and the marketing minds at Nike were there to pick me up.

Drawing on the surprising performance of the U.S. in 2002, our current top-five world ranking and a bit of historical moxie, the people at Nike launched their “Don’t Tread on Me” campaign for the World Cup 06. They crafted a brilliant logo with a rattlesnake coiled around a soccer ball, based on the Gadsden Flag, and I bought in, literally.

This is soccer as resistance, as politics, as national pride and when does a modern-day, free-thinking American get the chance to celebrate any of that? The World Cup represents the American West circa-1850 and the moon circa-1960 all wrapped up in one. The unconquered, final frontier. I was too young for the Miracle on Ice, but I’ll definitely be there for, what I can only hope will be called, the Phenomenon on der Pferderennsport.

Or will I? It is one thing to feel like a snake, hissing and rattling, poised to strike and quite another to be one and avoid being stomped by the boots of Italy and the Czech Republic. While the U.S. is currently ranked fourth in the FIFA World Soccer Ratings, nobody is really buying it. According to The Thinking Fan’s Guide to the World Cup the U.S. is 100-1 to win the Cup, which gives us as good a chance to win as Serbia and Montenegro and a worse chance than the Ivory Coast in their first ever appearance. (Whose median age according to the CIA World Fact Book is 19.1. They’re kids!)

But pay reality no mind, the World Cup is less than three weeks away and that is plenty of time to get lost in our founding fathers’ revolutionary spirit. I’ve already done my part to support the effort by purchasing the “DOTM” hoodie, hat and t-shirt and when they release the “super limited stash” of jerseys I’ll buy that too. This is the American way.

Come June 12 I’ll be decked head to toe in our nation’s colors and I will assuredly look like a buffoon. But for the first time I’m going to be part of world’s greatest sporting event.

***

It is believed that Benjamin Franklin wrote in 1775 of the rattlesnake, “she never wounds ‘til she has generously given notice, even to her enemy, and cautioned him against the danger of treading on her.”

It seems unlikely that the mighty Czech Republic will heed such warning, but right now there is hope that an America united will be able to rise up and sink its fangs into the ultra-developed calves of its oppressors.

Join, or Die.