Bleacher Report - Articles by Matt Chaprales

With Manny, Nothing's Cut and Dry

Matt Chaprales — Fri, 08 May 2009 17:51:30 -0400

I know, it doesn’t look good.

Manny tested positive for a banned substance and is not appealing the automatic 50-game suspension he received as a result.

The statement he issued was opaque and dodgy, which is not a surprise considering it was likely penned by Scott Boras.

The media response has been ferocious, with everyone from hot air extraordinaire Bill Plaschke to revered baseball scribe Jayson Stark sticking their fangs into Manny.

The rest of us, meanwhile, are left to mull over everything that has happened in the last 24 hours and decide if Manny’s a steroid user. I’ve been asked point blank the question a few times in the last day, and my response in each circumstance has been, “I’m not ready to believe that.”

I’m still not, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Despite the suspect “personal health issue," the peculiarity of the doctor’s Florida location, and the fact that the drug in question is frequently used by steroid users coming off a cycle.

I’m not ready to believe that we can lump Manny in with Steroid Abuser A through Z, because since when was Manny ever lumpable (not sure if that’s a word) with anyone?

The man is a different breed, one of a kind. While that doesn’t exonerate him from present accusations, his situation can’t be sweepingly tied to Palmeiro’s wagging finger or Sosa’s linguistic amnesia.

Could Manny’s statement be a bold face lie? Yes, yes it could.

But be careful not to underestimate Manny’s overly dependent nature. We’re talking about a guy who nearly backed out of a $160 million contract with the Red Sox upon learning that his favorite clubhouse attendant in Cleveland wasn’t ready to uproot himself in order to accompany the slugger to Boston. A guy who on occasion needs to be told how many balls and strikes there are when he’s in the batter’s box.

So is it that far-fetched to think that maybe Manny did actually have a medical problem he wasn’t very proud of and sought treatment outside of the MLB web? That he blindly entrusted a doctor to prescribe him something he assumed would have no ulterior consequences?

The sentiment among baseball people is that’s hogwash. That players have had far too long to adapt to MLB’s drug testing policy and parameters.

They are right, but they’ve also been right about many things in the past that have been applicable to everyone but Manny (like for instance, showing up at Spring Training on time, not faking injuries to get a day off, not holding teams hostage over contract negotiations etc.).

They never got through to Manny then, so why suddenly is the SOP (standard operating procedure) for ballplayers relevant to Manny now?

Like it or not, the murky and mercurial Ramirez has always had a double standard applied to him, and that shouldn’t change just because his latest shady act has gotten him bounced for two months.

As I said, I still don’t know what to think. Manny may or may not be guilty of the crime he’s now paying 50 games and over $7 million for.

But if he wants to begin the arduous task of clearing his name and proving his innocence, it’s going to have to begin with a marked deviation from the Manny SOP. Which is to say murkiness is going to have to give way to transparency.

He says he saw a physician for a personal health issue. Who’s the doc? What was the issue?

He claims to have passed "about 15 drug tests over the past five seasons." Let’s hear more about those.

He issued a written apology to the Dodgers organization and fan base, but has yet to be seen or heard from in the flesh.

Bottom line is Manny must come out of his shell like never before if he’s to stand a chance against an enraged baseball populace.

Until then, I know…it doesn’t look good.

Celtics-Bulls VI: Battle of the Century

Matt Chaprales — Fri, 01 May 2009 18:02:08 -0400

I left my friend’s place after Celtics-Bulls Game Six last night, exhausted and in a malaise. My memory of what had just transpired—usually crystal clear—was so clouded and fragmented, my thoughts so blurred, that I had trouble finding a subway station I’ve used countless times.

After making the 30 minute journey back home—during which I must have looked like a zombie to strangers around me—I watched highlights of the game. Actually strike that, the battle. Because let’s face it, this war of attrition was the closest mind-body struggle between two adversaries one will ever see outside of the ring.

There was Rondo and Hinrich’s undercard. The blood gushing from Pierce’s nose. Ray’s 51 points on the scorecard. Miller’s revenge. Salmons’ onslaught. Baby’s fadeaway. The ice in Ray’s veins. Pierce’s almost-steal and knockout of the challenger. Noah’s indescribable flurry to stagger the champs. Rose’s KOS (knock-out swat).

I watched all this for a second and third time, and tried to gather my thoughts. Wasn’t happening. Tried to sleep. Nope.

I turned on the TV, and what happened to be on HBO? A documentary of the "Thrilla in Manila" between Ali and Frazier. It was an intense and jarring recount of possibly the greatest fight ever. It was also the only suitable way to give some perspective to a mind-blowing basketball game.

It’s often too easy to get swept up in the moment, and everyone—from players to media to fans—is predisposed to this phenomenon from time to time. It’s human nature: when we witness something extraordinary, precedents and past-happenings become puny in comparison.

Typically though, upon reflection, the grandeur of an amazing occurrence in sports gets reduced once "the moment" has passed, nerves have settled, and rational thought has reentered the equation.

Let’s not mince words: Ali-Frazier III has stood the test of time as a seminal moment in sports that will never be matched. Just seeing Frazier, Frazier’s son, Ali’s team, writers and historians chronicling this epic fight, you can sense that wherever they were on that day in 1975, they have remained since in spirit.

For 14 rounds in sweltering heat, two of the world’s finest fighters waged a war that nearly killed them both. There is no more telling quote than from Frazier, who when asked if he would have risked his life to go out for the 15th and final round said, “Yeah.”

When the documentary ended, it was just after two in the morning, and I was finally lucid. I realized that Ali-Frazier comparisons get thrown around FAR too generously, and that there will never be a sporting event—in boxing or otherwise—than could garner such a comparison.

But as a metaphorical script? That’s a different story. That’s where Celtics-Bulls VI steps in.

Early in the fourth quarter Chicago went on a run, unleashing a series of blows that had the champs staggering (similar to Frazier’s middle-round assault on Ali). The Celtics took the Bulls’ punches, and returned in kind, with a crowd-silencing 18-0 run that turned a 10-point deficit into an 8-point lead (akin to Ali’s blistering sustained attack in rounds 12 to 14).

Naturally there are inconsistencies, no more significant than the fact that the champs lost the game whereas the champ won/survived the fight.

But a series of plays in the final minute of the third overtime truly gave this basketball game the feel of a heavyweight bout—epitomizing the desperate chaos that ensues in the waning seconds of the last round.

With the game tied, Pierce jumped a pass and knocked the ball into the backcourt, seemingly destined for some series-clinching thunder. But he stumbled at midcourt and the ball careened out of bounds, giving it back to the Bulls.

Then, after a defensive stand, Pierce had the ball back in his hands at the top of the key. He went to drive left, and feeling the double team coming, tried to whip a pass to Brian Scalabrine in the corner.

It was then that Joakim Noah let loose the proverbial final combination. First, he intercepted the ball and tapped it towards center court. Next, he picked it up and dribbled the rest of the floor—trailed by an exhausted Pierce the entire way. By the time Pierce caught up to the rumbling seven-footer, he had thrown down a tremendous flush and drawn the sixth and final foul on the C’s captain. He nailed the free throw to boot, putting the finishing touches on the finishing barrage.

So here we are, six games, seven overtimes, and one epic script into a bona fide first-round heavyweight basketball bout.

Game Seven is Saturday in Boston, a game that will double as the most significant affair ever contested at such an early juncture of the never-ending tournament that is the NBA playoffs.

Everyone who’s anyone will be there for the epic finale. Maybe even Kevin Garnett.

And I’m thinking he won't be in a suit.

Celtics Ticket-Less for Playoffs

Matt Chaprales — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 18:01:10 -0400

Tom Brady might be sitting courtside at TD Banknorth Garden on Saturday—when the Celtics officially begin their title defense—but unlike last postseason, he will not be the most important guy in street clothes next to the Celtics bench.

Unfortunately, that honor will go to the Big Ticket.

What many feared last month after Kevin Garnett’s brief and unsuccessful return from a knee strain is now a bitter reality: The MVP of the Celtics, Mr. Anything’s Possible himself, is out indefinitely.

We have all witnessed how the fire burns inside this unparalleled athlete. We saw him spill his guts every night for 12 years in Minnesota. We were awed when he brought his act to Boston and did the same over a surreal 97-game stretch last season; a series of extended encores punctuated by a world championship. And we were grateful when a long-suffering basketball town was returned to its rightful perch atop the hoops world.

Now, with 14 years and well over 1,000 games under his belt, it appears his heart and passion for the game have proven to be more enduring than the knees entrusted with carrying all that extra weight, literal and otherwise.

There are still no reports of structural damage in his injured right knee, just a career’s worth of wear and tear of the highest degree. (Seems like the term “wear and tear” grossly understates the matter, no?) He hasn’t been officially ruled out of the entire Playoffs, but it’s probably wise to keep expectations at a minimum going forward.

It’s tough not to be down at this point. When KG was healthy, the defending champs—spurred by an historic 27-2 start—were the story of the league.

Yet not long after that run, the main plot of 2008-2009 season shifted away from the Celtics and towards Lebron and Kobe, Cleveland and LA. Garnett went down, the Cavs were unbeatable at home (falling only to LA), and the Lakers had wrapped up the West before MLK Day.

While Cavs-Lakers was accordingly billed as the surest Finals since, well, Lakers-Celtics, and would’ve had a good chance of happening even if KG was healthy, it’s a damned shame the Green won’t get a real shot at defending their crown. Anyone who tells you Cavs-Celtics would've been a foregone conclusion with Garnett back is full of it.

Garnett’s loss is a striking blow to a team that wore the championship belt and bullseye all year, battled multiple injuries throughout, integrated new players, and still emerged with 62 victories. It was an admirable first chapter to the team’s first title defense since 1987. Now, with the end game pretty much determined, all that’s left to see is how it concludes.

I don’t think it’s optimistic to believe the Celtics will fulfill their end of the bargain and give Lebron the rematch he’s wanted—albeit under different circumstances.

This team has dealt with a ton of adversity. In addition to Garnett being sidelined for 25 games, key reserves Leon Powe (12 games), Tony Allen (36 games), and Brian Scalabrine (43 games) all missed significant time. That enabled Glen Davis to grow into his skin and helped accelerate the transition for newcomers Mikki Moore and Stephon Marbury.

Add to that Rajon Rondo’s emergence as an elite point guard and Kendrick Perkins’ continued development (both enter the playoffs as unquestionably better players than last year), and there is a solid and experienced supporting cast around the now Big Two, who are not to be forgotten.

Paul Pierce and Ray Allen are among the proudest players in the game and will make it their personal mission to carry this team as far as they can. Even with rings—and Pierce with a Finals MVP—both can vividly recall the days when they were some combination of underestimated and underappreciated.

Allen has been channeling Jesus Shuttlesworth since last year’s Eastern Conference Finals. He will take it up a notch.

As for Pierce, let’s just say a lot of people didn’t take him seriously last year when he proclaimed he was the best player in the world. He may have overstepped a bit, but after manning up and dismissing Lebron and Kobe on the biggest stage, his point held water.

For the two most important months of the 2007-2008 season, Paul Pierce was the best player in the world. He’s always relished having something to prove; the greats always do. Now he does (again).

The Celtics likely won’t make it back to the promised land without their leader, but that doesn’t change the fact that the belt is theirs until somebody rips it off them.

Knowing this team and its coach, knowing Allen and the reigning Finals MVP, I wouldn’t bank on anyone not named Lebron or Kobe taking the honors.

Defining "Dynasty": Who Makes The Cut?

Matt Chaprales — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 17:01:05 -0500

With the Pittsburgh Steelers having just recently captured their second Super Bowl in four years and sixth overall, it seems like a good time to tackle one of the most subjective and contested concepts in sport, “the dynasty.”

How does one define a sports dynasty? Who has rightly deserved the title of dynasty throughout sports history? What does “dynasty” actually mean?

The last question is the easiest to answer. The origin of the word is from the Greek dunasteia, meaning “lordship.” According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, a dynasty is defined as:

1) a succession of rulers of the same line of descent.

2) a powerful group or family that maintains its position for a considerable time.

Not too much help there, although it’s evident why the notion of a sports dynasty is so debated. There just isn’t a tangible or relevant definition of the term. It has been up to the professional leagues, teams, writers and fans to determine what has constituted a dynasty over the years.

When exactly the term entered the vernacular is difficult to pinpoint, but two of the original teams to garner the designation—the Boston Celtics of the late '50s and 60s and the UCLA Bruins of the 60s and early '70s—still come the closest to fulfilling the second definition of the word, “a powerful group or family that maintains its position for a considerable time.”

Red Auerbach’s Celtics won 11 of 13 NBA titles from 1957 to 1969, including eight straight. John Wooden’s Bruins took down 10 of 12 NCAA championships from 1964 to 1975, highlighted by a run of seven in a row. Those teams—particularly the Celtics—were dynastic in the truest sense of the word, in that they were sports families headed by powerful patriarchs that held their standing over an extended period of time.

Mergers, expansion and free agency have drastically altered the landscape of professional sports since the old school UCLA and Celtics dynasties. Understanding that, let’s dissect the dynasties of the (semi) modern era. We’ll use the mid-1970s as a jumping off point, considering the ABA-NBA merger took place in 1976, MLB introduced mainstay franchises such as the Mariners and Blue Jays in 1977, and the Super Bowl era was well under way.

In my opinion, there are two parameters that must be met if a team wants to enter the dynasty debate.

1) The team must win back-to-back to titles.

2) The team must win or have won another title within a few years of the successive championships.

In the three major sports there are a handful of squads that have gone back-to-back over the last 40 years, but that was it. They didn’t win another one before or after the consecutive titles within a reasonable amount of time. Among these teams are the New York Yankees (’77 and ‘78), Detroit Pistons (’89 and ‘90), Toronto Blue Jays (’92 and ‘93), Houston Rockets (’94 and ‘95), and Denver Broncos (’98 and ‘99).

It’s an admirable accomplishment to go back-to-back, but there’s an aspect of sustained excellence inherent to the idea of a sports dynasty that those teams didn’t have. Two in a row without another can still fall in “flash in the pan” territory. At least in the context of this argument.

As for the teams that are in the running, let’s um, run through them…

The Pittsburgh Steelers of the '70s—the original “Steel Curtain”—set the the standard for Super Bowl dominance. Led by Terry Bradshaw, Lynn Swann and “Mean Joe” Greene, Pittsburgh won four out of six titles between 1975 and 1980, a mark that is still yet to be met. Dynasty.

In the '80s, the San Francisco 49ers gave a solid encore performance to the Steel Curtain. Behind the innovative and groundbreaking West coast offense instituted by Bill Walsh, Joe Montana and Jerry Rice’s 49ers snagged four Super Bowls in a nine-year span (1982-1990). Included in that run was a back-to-back in ‘89 and '90, which solidified the Niner dynasty.

No other NFL franchise has won four titles in one era, but the Dallas Cowboys (’92, '93 and '95) and New England Patriots (’01, '03 and '04) have each gone three out of four. Given the parity that started to take shape in the mid-90s and the establishment of a salary cap in 1994, it could be argued that the Cowboys and Patriots were actually the two most dominant teams in league history. We’ll keep that on the back burner for now.

Jumping to MLB—which saw 14 different champions between 1975 and 1995—the only dynasty of the last 35 years is undisputed: the New York Yankees of the late 90s. With great pitching and a young superstar named Derek Jeter, the Yankees won four out of five World Series between 1996 and 2000. That seven different teams have won titles in the eight years since New York’s run only underscores how remarkable it was.

Finally to the NBA, which has been the most conducive to dynasties throughout the time period in question. Let’s begin with the present, and a peculiar team that has heard the term thrown around in reference to it on more than one occasion. That would be the San Antonio Spurs.

Since Tim Duncan’s sophomore campaign in 1998, the Spurs have won four of the 10 NBA titles to be contested. They’ve won three of the last six, but all in odd years ('03, '05 and '07).

Duncan will probably go down as the greatest power forward of all time, but his lumbering style and passive attitude are generally cited as the chief reasons why the Spurs have yet to repeat as champs. The guy has simply never exhibited the fire and drive needed to go after it, year after year. It takes a cold-blooded leader to repeat, and Duncan—while many things—is not that. Spurs proponents would argue that a miracle three by Derek Fisher in 2004 and Dirk Nowitzki’s historic three-point play in 2006 are the only things standing between San Antonio and five straight titles. And they would have a point, except there’s no room for “coulda, woulda, shoulda” when talking dynasty.

I’ll argue that San Antonio’s three titles combined with those plays merit them the moniker of “team of the decade,” but a dynasty? No.

This is where it gets interesting, because at the beginning of the decade we saw a bona fide dynasty in the Shaq/Kobe Lakers. Three straight crowns starting with the 1999-00 season. A loss in the 2004 Finals to the chippy Detroit Pistons—with the additions of Gary Payton and Karl Malone no less—cost the Lakers their shot at being the team of the decade. That is unless they grab another one in '09…

Now let’s trek back to the 80s, a magnificent era that featured what I must deem a “co-dynasty.” Magic’s Lakers and Bird’s Celtics won eight of nine NBA titles beginning with the 1979-80 season. While LA had the upper hand (winning five rings to Boston’s three and two of the three head-to-head showdowns), there’s no doubt that Magic isn’t Magic without Bird and vice-versa. Same goes for their teams. The iconic franchises fed off one another, spawned a fervent bicoastal fan base and permanently embedded the sport in American culture. For that reason the 80s Celtics are the only team to warrant the dynasty tag despite a failure to repeat (they won three of six from ‘81 to ‘86 and appeared in five Finals during that span).

If we’re talking dynasties and iconic players, the argument begins and ends with one man. Michael Jordan. The greatest, most prolific champion of the modern era. His Bulls three-peated from ‘91 to ‘93, and again from ‘96 to ‘98.

He took a break (for reasons still not completely determined) and played baseball for a year and half in between, and his team became mortal without him. After a truncated return in ‘95 and a second straight loss in the Eastern Conference playoffs for the Bulls, MJ made it clear that the glory days were again on the horizon, and he lived up to his word. When it was over Jordan had essentially gone six-for-six in his prime, a surreal stretch of individual dominance in what was historically believed to be a team game.

The dynasty debate is one of the great ongoing discussions in sport. While it will continue to live on—in locker rooms, through the media, around the dinner table—the '90s Bulls are the greatest dynasty in recent American sports history.

Any beef?

2009 NBA Title Contenders

Matt Chaprales — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 20:12:00 -0400

What do we know after two days of the 2008-09 NBA season? We know the Celtics are going to defend the EFFING hell out of their crown as the LeBron's plot their coup. We know the Lakers are the biggest and deepest team in the league. And we know the Suns and Spurs are old. Really old. Like almost as old as Greg Oden. (Was that too soon?)

Oh yeah, and we know that the day David Stern doesn’t get universally booed on site is the day he’s perfected that nifty mind control device he’s been working on. Something tells me it’ll be ready to go by draft night in New York next summer. Stay tuned.

Alas, aside from those truths, much is yet to be decided, and with reason. That’s why they play the games, duh.

Since my team is the defending champs after years of being the defending lottery losers, this preview will concentrate strictly on actual title contenders.

(Bear in mind, I called the Celtics to win 58 games and make the Finals last year when most “prominent writers" with “readerships” had them as a four or five seed in the East. I guess while you’re at it, strike from the record my pick of the Knicks as a playoff team…)

Here we go.

Eastern Conference

The Favorite: Boston Celtics

They were thrown together last year as part of Danny Ainge’s personal science experiment. The basketball world waited for Paul Pierce to demand more shots, for Kevin Garnett to shrink on the biggest stage of his life, and for Ray Allen’s ankles to detach from his calves. It anticipated their demise after they dropped three games a piece to Zaza Pachulia’s Hawks and Bron’s Cavs, except that fourth loss never came.

Now, for the 17th time in franchise history, the Celts are the returning champs. If you watched Pierce during the banner raising ceremony or have watched Garnett at all throughout his career, do you honestly believe this team is satiated? Their original goal was to restore the pride, which they did. Their new goal is to stamp a collective legacy and do something that not even the original Big Three was able to accomplish: capture back-to-back titles. Go on and tell them it’s not possible. Last I checked, anything’s possible.

Lurking: Cleveland Cavaliers

If I’m the rest of the league, I genuinely fear this team. LeBron is at the point in his career where only he can hinder himself (see: free throw shooting and unnecessary treys). The Cavs are tough, defensive-minded, strong on the glass, and now armed with a legitimate threat at point guard (Mo Williams). The only thing Cavs fans should be worried about is whether or not the gold medal King James earned in Beijing sufficiently validated his status as a “global icon.” For the sake of a fan base holding on by a thread in the City that Rocks, let’s hope not.

Time’s Slippin Away: Detroit Pistons

Joe Dumars is like the schoolyard bully. He’ll push you around and talk a big game, but won’t ever make a serious move. Following each of the last three underwhelming exits by his team a step short of the Finals, the Pistons GM threatened to implode the NBA’s steadiest nucleus.

Yet for the fifth consecutive season, the Fab Four of Rip Hamilton, Chauncey Billups, Rasheed Wallace, and Tayshaun Prince will be running Motown. Year after year they play hard and dole out respect—on their own terms. That holier-than-thou mentality has consistently irked Dumars, but not enough to actually blow the team up. You can’t have it both ways.

To Be Determined: Orlando Magic

Dwight Howard was positively dominant in the first round against Toronto last year, before slipping markedly against the Pistons and ultimately ceding the role of primary big man to Chris Bosh in the Olympics. Look, that’s not to say his inevitable 25-17-7 season won’t be this year. The auxiliary guys are in place on the Magic. Jameer Nelson is a plus point guard. Rashard Lewis is a rainmaker from beyond the arc and Hedo Turkoglu has developed into a primetime performer. When Superman decides to take that next step, this is a team that will be immediately elevated to contender.

Western Conference

The Favorite: Los Angeles Lakers

Anyone who was wondering if Kobe Bryant’s reign as best player in the world had ended saw their concerns squelched in, oh about eight minutes. Those would be the last eight minutes of the gold medal game against Spain.

Now Kobe has his gold along with a new front line that will feature Pau Gasol and Andrew Bynum together for the first time. The West will again be stacked and nasty, but let’s not kid ourselves. Nobody will win more games than the Lakers. That, however, has nothing to do with any possible lingering effects LA may feel from the physical and psychological pounding they took from Boston in the Finals last year. Kobe can get over it, but can the same be said of Lamar Odom and Gasol? Bynum or not, these Lakers aren’t avenging last year without those two.

Lurking: New Orleans Hornets

I love this team. Love them as much as the LJ Knicks and the old Blazers. True, that’s neither here nor there, but I just had to establish how much love I have for this squad. And that was before Mr. Manlove himself (aka Mr. Clutch, aka the Mercenary, aka I’ll-be-ten-times-more-valuable-in-the-playoffs-than-I-was-in-the-regular-season) James Posey signed with them.

I believe Chris Paul has an excellent chance of going down as the greatest point guard to ever play the game. I believe after disposing of the team formerly known as the Mavs and tussling seven grueling games with the team of the decade (San Antonio), the Hornets will enter the ‘09 postseason hardened and determined. And I believe with Posey, you can now add two wins to whatever total N’Awlins was expected to tally in the playoffs. Those are my beliefs.

Time’s Slippin Away: Phoenix Suns, San Antonio Spurs

It’s fairly simple for each of these franchises, which we’ll group together as co-founders of the new NBA Senior Circuit. The Suns have a chance if they can complete a philosophical 180 and become a half court, defensive team with Amare Stoudemire manning the middle. Steve Nash is still the grittiest player in the league. Shaq is still, um, kinda scary, and Grant Hill is still…alive? Wait, am I supposed to be making a case for the Suns? Hmm. Let’s talk about the Spurs.

Manu Ginobili’s injury gives them a shot. Why? Because regardless, he’s not playing 100 games this year, not the way he throws his body around. Better to miss the first 20 than the last 15. And don’t forget, it’s an odd year! That’s right, 1999, 2003, 2005, and 2007 all concluded with Spurs championships. That means something. Just ask the skeletons of Bruce Bowen and Michael Finley.

To Be Determined: Houston Rockets

Oh the possibilities. Here we have a team whose exceptionally talented starting five consists of a legendary street-baller, a renowned throw-teammates-under-the-busser, a genetically engineered super-hooper, a fabled fan-brawler, and an instigator Argentine.

For the uninitiated, that would be Rafer Alston (who’s tempered the Skip 2 My Lou persona), Tracy McGrady (who finally knows how to lose a playoff series and not blame everyone else), Yao Ming (who’s now permitted to write a check), Ron Artest (who hasn’t punched anyone in the face…recently), and Luis Scola (who should never guard Artest in practice). Yep, suffice to say, the 2009 Rockets are “to be determined” until further notice.

See Ya Manny, So Long Red Sox Dynasty

Matt Chaprales — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 11:18:45 -0400

I received a text from a friend the night before the trade deadline when it looked like Manny Ramirez was headed to South Florida to join the Marlins. The text read: “Worried yet?”

My response: “They won’t do it. Not with a dynasty on the line.”

(One of the great sports debates is what constitutes a dynasty. It’s clearly a subjective interpretation of greatness. In this scribe’s opinion a team must win back-to-back titles plus another one within a few years. This is to say that any franchise that wins three out of five championships is worthy of some manifestation of the term “dynasty.” A banner in 2008 would mean three out of five for the Sox.)

So my rationale was that Red Sox brass would not threaten what is at least arguably a potential dynasty in the making, particularly given that David Ortiz spent a significant period of time on the shelf and the team didn’t fade.

Given that Josh Beckett is fixing to turn it up, that Dice-K has been far from the liability most believed he would be this year and that Jon Lester is the second-best lefty in the American League.

Given that Jonathan Papelbon is still the surest thing this side of Mariano Rivera when it comes to closing games in October.

Given that the most prolific offensive tandem since Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig was intact again for the first time since it co-slugged its way to a second World Series in four years.

And finally, that cumulatively this team was unequivocally gearing up for another title run.

I didn’t think it would happen because I’ve come to understand the whims of this ownership. John Henry, Tom Werner, and Larry Lucchino have personalized the experience of being a Red Sox fan because they themselves are Red Sox fans—ones who happen to be ridiculously wealthy businessmen who assumed control of the enterprise.

Too often in sports, business and figures detract from what is ultimately best for a team. With Manny’s eight-year, $160 million deal, it was at times a wise business move for the ownership to remove all those dollars from its weighty payroll. Hence irrevocable waivers in 2003, a busted trade for Alex Rodriguez in 2004, and annual deadline talks with the Mets’ Omar Minaya about a Manny move to Flushing.

In all instances, getting rid of Manny was the smart business move, the best for the bottom line. But Theo Epstein—acting on behalf of the trio—abstained from ever pulling the string because of one prevailing reason: the guy was too damn good and too vital to the most important end of winning.

Winning superseded personal relationships. Winning supplanted smart business.

To this ownership, winning mattered most. And in pennant races and pursuits of October glory, Ramirez behind Ortiz gave the Red Sox a decisive inside track to victory.

I’ll be frank: Manny has always been a pain in the rear (to put it gently) through the eyes of ownership and his colleagues. It was just always kept more or less under wraps. Manny, for the most part, squawked privately and off the record, which meant only bits and pieces were divulged.

I’m sorry, but it’s no coincidence that the historically publicly soft-spoken Manny signed with Scott Boras before (essentially) a contract year—the Red Sox held two $20 million club options for 2009 and 2010 on Ramirez—then proceeded to start voicing all the displeasures he’s traditionally voiced behind the scenes directly to the media.

Boras, who’s likely still peeved at the Red Sox for holding him hostage two summers ago over the Dice-K contract, saw the perfect opportunity to turn the tables on the only contingent to have gotten the better of him at the negotiating table.

He knew that unleashing the Manny circus on the public would force the hand of the club. Force them to 1) pay monetarily to get rid of Manny (which they have, $7 million), 2) dispose of him for seventy cents on the dollar (which they did, for Jason Bay), and 3) line Manny up to get shown the money come this offseason (which if I were a betting man…).

Done and done. And just like that the Manny Ramirez era came to a prompt conclusion in Boston.

What truly perplexes me is the fact that lots of fans and writers are on board with the move. Proponents of the trade would point to the fact that Manny’s bullheadedness was tearing the team apart from the inside, that his antics have been far worse this year than in the past.

Not true.

Manny has always been Manny. To the fans and outside world he was frequently endearing, quirky, and warm. While behind closed doors he was consistently self-centered, obstinate, and vexing. Bottom line is he has forever lived in Manny World, in spite of everyone around him—be it media, teammates or bosses.

(If you’re not convinced, pick up Seth Mnookin’s Feeding the Monster. It is the single most illuminating piece of writing about Manny and the organization.)

Due to that longstanding discord it was obvious that Manny and Boston would part ways after this season. After finishing what unofficially kicked off in 2003, the most prosperous era in Red Sox history.

Like it or not, like him or not, the Red Sox with Manny Ramirez were most sufficiently primed to defend a World Series crown for the first time in nearly a century.

Debating team chemistry, managing motives and money is moot. Through everything that has gone down in the last week, only two facts have emerged: 1) The Red Sox are a decidedly worse team today than they were on the morning of July 31, 2008, and 2) If they should get there, the Red Sox will be a far less intimidating force in October than they were in ‘04 or ‘07.

Don’t believe me?

Just ask any Angels or Yankees fan.

The Boston Garden Lives

Matt Chaprales — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 19:49:06 -0400

Just when it seemed like Lakers-Celtics would be the revival act for David Stern’s league, old friend (as in: seedy scumbag) Tim Donaghy had to resurface and cast a dark shadow over the whole shebang.

Donaghy—from whatever hole he’s in awaiting sentencing for fixing NBA games— issued a statement before Game 3 of the Finals, alleging that Game 6 of the 2002 Western Conference finals between LA and Sacramento was handed to the Lakers by corrupt officials via an inordinate free throw discrepancy at the end of the game. L.A. shot 27 free throws in an unequivocally fishy fourth quarter.

This came, of course, after the Celtics took Game 2 from L.A. at least partly because of a 38-10 advantage in free throw attempts, and before the tables were turned in Game 3, when the Lakers prevailed after being awarded 12 more freebies than Boston.

The ensuing tempest had the talking heads crying foul and the conspiracy theorists filling up their think tank with pointed skepticism. I’m not about to dispute them; some shady stuff has gone down in the NBA playoffs over the last five-plus years and there’s at least one guy who has tainted the entire game. The problem may or may not be systemic.

But let’s be realistic. Donaghy is a weak and desperate man. And while at this point it’s nearly impossible to determine the validity of his claims, they are irrelevant to the matter at hand. The Celtics and Lakers were the two best teams in the NBA this year and are playing for the title. There is no fix.

Although I must say I’ve never seen anything like Game 2. It’s really quite simple: The Lakers got no calls; the Celtics got them all. From afar, the disparity could be construed as illegitimate, when in fact it was merely a product of contrasting styles of play, and more significantly, the environment.

Lots has been written over the years (particularly by ESPN’s Sportsguy) about how crowds can adversely affect the outcomes of NBA playoff games.

When 18,000 people are united in cause and armed with mighty vocal cords, they can succeed in fueling the home team, fazing the opponent, and at times, freezing the refs. As an under-25 Celtics fan, this was one of the many truths I held to be self-evident, but never experienced.

Well, after an almost unfathomable act of generosity by my friend’s parents —yes, a ticket to Game 2 of Lakers-Celtics—I was given the opportunity to taste it for myself (and from row 12 no less).

Now I may still be a relative newbie in the grand scheme of the sports spectrum, but over the years I’ve found ways to attend sporting events of great magnitude: Yanks-Sox in the 1999 and 2003 ALCS, LSU-Auburn with BCS title implications in 2007, and Game 6 of the 2002 Eastern Conference finals, to name a few.

None of them matched the vibe inside the Garden on Sunday night. From the second the lights went down and the lineups were introduced, the place became a force unto itself. With 18,000-plus unified, the building felt like it was taking on a life of its own. There was always a sustained level of clamor. It would subside slightly when the Celtics had the ball and rise to spine-tingling crescendos when the Lakers did.

Moreover, watching the wide-eyed Los Angeles subs get eaten alive by the fierce, ball-hawking Celtics bench was like an intravenous shot of adrenaline into a mass of fans whose blood was already boiling.

Leon Powe (21 points off the bench) had a lot to do with it as he emerged from the Celtics bench-by-committee and immediately started taking passes in the post and making strong, often bullish yet agile moves into the heart of the soft interior defense of the Lakers. Led by Powe, the Celtics dared L.A. to match them physically, and L.A. succumbed.

Everyone in the stands, in turn, time and again rose up with such wild fervor that nothing could be done to curb what was taking place on the parquet below. That a single man with a whistle could foil the unrelenting will of the faithful and tame the swarming Celtics was pure malarkey.

The way the Celtics played in the second and third quarter, and the way the crowd rabidly pulsated throughout it all, made it next to impossible for the refs to impact the game. They could’ve swapped their whistles for paintball guns and still wouldn’t have had a chance of halting play when the Celtics were being perhaps a tad overly aggressive. The arena simply wouldn’t allow it.

A series of Powe throw-downs at the end of the third quarter had me believing that if the old Garden was still sitting next door it would’ve crumbled after being rocked by the tremors emanating from the new house. So you’re telling me that in this environment, a wrist-slap on an ensuing Lakers possession was going to be identified and whistled by a referee? I think not.

Now is that the way it’s supposed to be? Probably not. Crowds—while an integral aspect of the game—should not be able to sway the outcome and render the officials mere bystanders.

But time was, that’s how it went down; that’s one of the reasons why the Boston Garden and LA Forum produced nearly half of all NBA titles. That sense of intimacy, of a stake in the action, that’s what has made basketball the most unique professional sport from a fan perspective.

Unfortunately that which has given basketball its identity—the ability of a crowd to rise up and become a greater force than the men policing the game—is now threatening the game itself. And it’s all because of (hopefully) a single “rogue” (Stern’s word) official.

Let’s get something straight: Calling fouls in basketball is, and has always been, purely subjective. Bodies clash and hands check on every possession of every game. It is the job of the referees to control the chaos.

There’s a monumental difference between refs getting swept up in the moment and attempting to dictate it for personal gain. During the heyday of the league, the former used to happen with great frequency. At this juncture we can only hope that Donaghy’s claims are those of a soulless and desperate man, that some semblance of the game’s integrity can ultimately be preserved.

What we can’t allow to happen is for the abhorrent transgressions of one to sully what remains a riveting throwback series between the two franchises that made the game what it is today. I finally experienced what I’d only previously known through lore, and nothing about what I watched was dirty.

Instead, it was a singular and momentous two and a half hours when fans and team together waged battle against an old adversary. That was always basketball at its finest. To hell with one man destroying what many far greater men worked so hard to build.

The Time Has Come For Celtic Pride

Matt Chaprales — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 18:17:48 -0400

I don’t remember Magic’s sky hook. I was probably watching Sesame Street when Bird stole the ball. And, I definitely would’ve rather been fed than seen McHale clothesline Rambis.

I’m a 25-year-old Celtics fan. There are many others like me. You'll have to forgive us, but this is quite a new experience.

For us, Celtic Pride is mythic although we do feel it—strongly in fact. It’s odd, really. We’ve heard the stories; the gripping first person narratives of triumph and glory, of heart and soul. We’ve seen the legends in the flesh, maybe even had the chance to pick their brains in a restaurant, or listen to them give a speech at the conclusion of basketball camp.

We’ve watched the games—on ESPN Classic, on YouTube, on box set—and seen ourselves how it all went down way back when.

We know who won, who scored, who coached, who called it, what the untold side stories were, what the stakes were, where the celebrations took place, when the foundation was laid, how the legacy was built, how it was sustained and why everyone who’s not us will forever be green—with envy, that is.

Because of the tradition, the pride, we have three dimensions and 360 degrees of Celtics history.

But it’s not real. It’s the greatest house of cards ever conceived. The most thoroughly and flawlessly constructed fairy tale.

Might as well call it the basketball Matrix because we’ve been plugged into it our entire lives: An alternate hoops universe strictly for our minds. It’s there to keep us proud, to prevent us from associating the Celtics during our youth with the Celtics.

And through the passion and dedication of those around us, we have been made to believe that it is reality.

But it is not.

Reality for us is Reggie Lewis breaking our heart after discovering too late that his own was too weak. Reality for us is Dino Radja and Eric Montross as “the future.” Reality for us is M.L. Carr and 15 wins. Reality for us is Rick Pitino, the Kentucky Wildcats and a certain “door.” Reality for us is not-Tim Duncan.

Reality for us is 11 stab wounds.

So here we stand today, in the midst of a new reality. One that needs not be defined and substantiated by the past, only enhanced by it.

Today, that horrible September night seven and half years ago—when we almost lost Paul Pierce—seems long ago. And while it was so nearly the end, only in hindsight can we now see that it was in fact just the beginning.

We went from wondering if the first superstar to don the green since Reggie would ever play ball again to watching him become the only Celtic to start all 82 games in the 2001-02 season. We were awestruck when he rained 46 points on Allen Iverson and the 76ers in the first deciding playoff game of his career.

And we became believers when he single-handedly led the greatest fourth-quarter comeback in NBA playoff history against the Nets in Game Three of the 2002 Eastern Conference finals.

The Celtics bowed out at home in Game Six that year, the deepest they had advanced in the playoffs since 1988. I was tucked away in the upper deck of the Fleet Center (”The Jungle”) that day, but I remember seeing perfectly the smile that beamed on Paul’s face when we stood as one for him after the final buzzer. I recall how the past year flashed before my eyes.

All of it had come so close to never happening.

We could all feel how he was thinking the same thing. I’m pretty sure it was that moment when 1) Paul Pierce realized he’d never wear another uniform again, and 2) we all realized that one day his number would be hoisted up into those rafters—the Celtic pantheon—rightfully alongside all the great ones.

That was the day the journey really began. We just didn’t know at the time.

I did know it was the proudest moment I’d ever had as a Celtics fan because the pride I felt was 100 per cent genuine and solely my own. It was also the most unique moment I’d ever had as a sports fan because it had nothing to do with winning or losing.

Seven-plus years later, it finally does. It would have never been possible without Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen, but their addition and the subsequent return of the Celtics has at last given three dimensions and 360 degrees to what we now know officially began in 2002: the Paul Pierce-era of the Boston Celtics.

Now, together, they are four wins from putting the finishing touch on that era and giving a new generation of fans their own stories to pass on.

Four wins from sealing two legacies that needed the Celtics as desperately as the Celtics needed them. Four wins against the only team with which we have unsettled business.

Four wins from a restoration. The time has come for pride.

BEAT L.A.!

Boston Red Sox: Manny's Still Manny

Matt Chaprales — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 09:58:19 -0400

Someone needs to pass Manny the memo.

You know, the one that tells him that not every long fly ball he hits is going out of the park, ending a game, and moving the Red Sox one step closer to a World Series.

Ever since his walk-off home run in game two of the ALDS, Manny has found it necessary to watch the ball travel—even if it’s not traveling into four-bagger territory.

Since that bomb off Francisco Rodriguez, Manny has become Narcissus reincarnated. Instead of falling in love with his own reflection, he falls in love with each deep drive he strikes.

Crack! goes the bat on the ball. Only then does he spring to life. His body language is as clear as the sky is blue. Oh the beauty! The power! The elegance! Oh, Manny!

Manny’s eyes—with a little help from the arms usually raised over his head—says it all. He is in awe of, enamored by, and totally smitten with his God-given and rediscovered stroke.

He simply can’t get enough of it.

The opposition kind of already has, though.

Just four games have elapsed this season, and Manny has twice stood in the batter's box to gaze at and admire not-home runs.

The trend began in Japan when Manny launched a go-ahead, two-run double in the top of the 10th inning against Oakland. He thought it was destined to be a three-run homer and stood in the batter's box, watching, as it failed to clear the fence.

But the hit still proved to be the game winner.

When he replicated the act in the final game of the same series back in Oakland, it wasn’t as well received because the ball was caught.

That’s right. Manny—standing proud and erect at home plate—watched as the ball was caught.

Of course, that finality only further fueled the ensuing comedy. Manny trekked back to the dugout and, through giggles, tried to explain to David Ortiz how he really thought that one was gone.

He gestured and illustrated and justified, while his teammates poked fun. Anyone watching had a good laugh.

You know who didn’t? The Yankees. Be assured that new Yanks skipper, Joe Girardi, is both aware of and not amused by Manuel’s antics.

The whole Red Sox-Yankees rivalry has become watered down in the last few years. This is mainly because the intensity and hatred that festered between the teams during the 2003-04 heyday no longer exists.

The relocations of Pedro Martinez and Gary Sheffield have had a lot do with that.

Remember the so-called "market correction" a few years back? Well I have a feeling that this year, we may be in store for a "rivalry correction."

Girardi has brought a new mentality to the Bronx—or brought back an old mentality, perhaps. Whichever way you look at it, the Bombers are the one team that will not sit back and watch the Red Sox show them up.

Joba Chamberlain proved as much last September when he nearly shaved the beard off Kevin Youkilis’ chin with some high and inside heat.

This spring, Girardi showed he was prepared to get down and dirty when he likely ordered Shelley Duncan to slide cleat-first into the nether-region of Rays second basemen Akinori Iwamura.

The result was a classy Grapefruit League dustup.

Taking that into consideration, along with Boston beginning defense of its second title in four years, we may be looking at a Sox-Yanks redux in 2008.

Plus, there’s Manny. The guy’s loving life and swinging a sweet tune at the plate once again.

As for that memo? It could say a million different things, but all that really matters is Manny’s still Manny.

2008 MLB Preview: Part Two

Matt Chaprales — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 09:06:26 -0400

So the Angels and Yankees will fall in the ALDS while the Dodgers and Braves won't advance out of the NLDS. Here's how the rest of the 2008 MLB playoffs will shake out...

Playing for a Pennant

Chicago Cubs (89-73/NL Central Champions) The Cubs dealt with their fair share of turmoil to begin the Lou Piniella era. Alfonso Soriano started the year in a prolonged slump and Carlos Zambrano was awful until he punched out his catcher. Once they got rid of Michael Barrett, Chicago started playing like most had expected going into the season.

Still, they never seemed to click on all cylinders, and were blitzed by Arizona in the NLDS. This year, there will be stability in the clubhouse–or at least as much as there can plausibly be with Sweet Lou and Zambrano still prone to the occasional outburst.

No matter what, the Cubs won’t have to expend nearly as much energy and emotion in order to win a very bad division. If Kerry Wood can succeed as the closer, this team is built to make some noise in October. They have three horses at the top of their rotation (Zambrano, Rich Hill, Ted Lilly) and a lights-out setup man in Carlos Marmol.

If they weren’t inevitably running into a team on a blood mission, I’d say the Cubbies were about to be closing in on their first pennant since 1945. Instead, 2008 will go down as another tantalizing, but ultimately unfulfilling campaign in Wrigleyville.

Detroit Tigers (101-61/AL Central Champions) Admit it. If you’re a fan of any team in the American League, you are dreading the first time your team and this team meet. The 2007 Tigers won 88 games and scored 887 runs.

Then they went and added Miguel Cabrera and Edgar Renteria–who scored a combined 178 runs last year.

So how many times will Tigers cross the plate in ‘08? 950? 1000? More? Apologies in advance to pitching staffs in the AL Central, which will have no choice but to get abused by this sure-to-be historic offense up to 19 times a piece over the next six months. Detroit will be raking from April through September, and into October.

Why then are they not going to be representing the AL in the Fall Classic? Pitching. Specifically, their bullpen. It’s looking like Joel Zumaya will never be the pitcher he was, at least not this year. Fernando Rodney is mediocre, and he too is battling shoulder issues.

That leaves the man who will be entrusted to get the final three outs, Todd Jones. His best days are far behind him. His recent past has been spotty at best (average of six blown saves and 4.10 ERA the last two seasons), and he hasn’t been able to get anybody out this spring (seven appearances, 15 hits, 11 earned runs, 14.84 ERA).

Even backed by a legendary offense, that’s simply not going to cut it in a seven-game series against a team with a lockdown bullpen.

The Runner-Up

Boston Red Sox (96-66/AL East Champions) The Red Sox are in Tokyo as this column goes to publication. The trip, which will span 18 days and three countries, is great for the Red Sox brand and even better for the game itself.

Theo Epstein and the Sox brass lured Dice-K and Hideki Okajima from Japan last year. They transformed the Boston Red Sox into a global enterprise. Then they won a second title for the first time in a century. As much as Hank Steinbrenner would like to deny it, Red Sox Nation is now multinational, multilingual, and carrying the torch into the next era of the sport of baseball.

Assuming an ambassadorial role for MLB won’t come without consequences, however.

By the time the Red Sox finally return to Fenway–via the west coast and Toronto–on April 8, the entire organization is going to be gassed. Players have been forced to alter their diets (”lots of sushi” says a reinvigorated Manny Ramirez), sleep habits, and general routines.

Terry Francona and his staff have basically assumed responsibilities of foreign dignitaries in addition to their daily duties as managers and coaches. And then there’s the simple fact of being on the road for an extended period of time to kick off the season. It’s not easy.

The defending champs will be buoyed by the sustained reception they receive upon their return home, but it’s just not reasonable to expect them to come flying out of the gates in April like their calling card would indicate.

They will win the AL East, because they are better than the Yankees, but if anyone thinks they’re going wire to wire, think again. It will take time to shake off the Tokyo-jet lag, and come October, after the Sox have played the most grueling 162 games imaginable, in addition to another run through the American League playoffs, it will all catch up.

The Sox won’t repeat as champions, but they will come damn close.

The Pick

New York Mets (98-64/NL East Champions) I thought that with a healthy Pedro Martinez in 2008, the Mets would be good enough to get back to where they were last year: on the brink of the NL East title and home-field throughout the playoffs.

Frankly, though, I wasn’t convinced that even Pedro’s elephant-sized ego would be sufficient enough to pull the team out of the total malaise it was stuck in since early September.

Then Omar Minaya saved the day, the season, and quite possibly the franchise, by working a deal for Johan Santana. So in comes the best pitcher of today, joining the best hurler of yesterday.

For those who have little faith in Pedro, chew on this: when the walls were crashing down around the Mets last September, Pedro, with all 88 miles per hour of his fastball, started five games, went 3-1 with a 2.57 ERA, and struck out 32 in 28 innings.

After the collapse was complete, with the Mets dreadfully looking ahead to 2008, Pedro was the beacon of light at the end of a long and otherwise pitch black tunnel. Trust me, the guy was prepared to lift that big blue toilet bowl also known as Shea Stadium–along with his team and what was left of its fan base–onto his modest shoulders, and start chugging.

Petey was ready to assume the entire burden of (another) hopeless franchise. And you know something? I would have bought in.

I believe he could have done it — until his right arm detached itself from the rest of his body, that is. Well now he won’t have to take that risk. The Mets, and their fans, have been reborn.

Johan has, in a word, simplified things. Willie Randolph’s boys will be the undisputed best in the league, Johan will win the NL Cy Young, Pedro will prove all the haters wrong, and the New York Mets will become your 2008 world champions.

MLB Preview 2008: Part One

Matt Chaprales — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 08:12:15 -0400

The defending champs in Tokyo. Miguel Cabrera in Detroit. Johan in New York. Joe Torre in LA. Just a minor shakeup from a year ago, no? So how’s it all going down in 2008? Here are the thoughts of one scribe…

On the Outside Looking In

Arizona Diamondbacks (87-75) It’s tough to make the playoffs two years in a row, particularly when you can’t score runs. Last year the Diamondbacks scored 712 runs, fifth-fewest in MLB. They also surrendered 20 more than they scored, making them (by far) the only playoff team with a negative run differential. Good pitching and a pesky lineup one through eight got Arizona to the NLCS in ‘07.

Adding a second ace in Dan Haren to complement Brandon Webb would indicate the D-Backs are set to be even better in 2008, except there’s one major caveat. Jose Valverde and his 47 saves are now in Houston. The Diamondbacks won 90 games last year, but many of them were thanks to Valverde protecting one-run leads. Webb was a stud from mid-summer on last season, but Valverde was the MVP of the team. Without him, Arizona has uncertainty at the back end of their bullpen.

No team wants to adopt a closer by committee. Especially one that needs to constantly protect tenuous leads late in ballgames.

Cleveland Indians (91-71) The following statement is going to make the city of Cleveland cringe (again): The Indians had their shot last year, and blew it. The optimistic outlook is the Indians have a solid and young core and will be competing for the foreseeable future.

The pessimistic forecast has reigning-Cy Young winner C.C. Sabathia bolting town for a mega-deal after 2008 (he rejected a four-year, $68 million contract extension and unilaterally suspended talks until after this season). Fans of the Tribe know it was there for the taking last October. Those feelings of regret have been compounded by concern about the future.

Which leaves the present. More bad news: The 2008 Detroit Tigers might boast the greatest offense of all-time. Cleveland will be good, just not good enough to return to October.

Into October…But Out

Los Angeles Dodgers (90-72/NL West Champions) The NL West will be the deepest division in the league. In the age of the unbalanced schedule, a stacked division means upwards of sixty games against quality opponents–not including interleague and interdivision play. That puts a premium on overall team balance.

When good teams play one another over and over again, the team with the best balance will prevail. The Dodgers have consistent starting pitching (Brad Penny and Derek Lowe), good middle relief (Scott Proctor and Jonathan Broxton), and the best closer in the National League (Takashi Saito). With speed at the top of their lineup (Juan Pierre and Rafael Furcal) and power in the middle (an emerging-James Loney and Russell Martin), LA will avoid the scoring droughts that plagued them last year.

Joe Torre’s cool and calm demeanor is also ideally suited for Southern California. The new skipper will lead the Dodgers back to the postseason, but not through it.

Atlanta Braves (91-71/NL Wild Card) Two consecutive seasons without playoff baseball at Turner Field? Are the Braves really still the third-best team in the NL East? On paper they are. But luckily they are looking up at a city and team that deal with high expectations about as well as Isiah Thomas deals with basketball contracts.

The Phillies staged an impressive run last year to steal the division from the Mets, but let’s get something straight: the Mets CUH-LAPSED. The city of Philadelphia was still rubbing its eyes while the Rockies were in the process of sweeping away the Phillies in the NLDS.

This is the pick I’m most ambivalent about. Both teams have good pitching, powerful lineups and closers who are suspect. I guess I’m going with the Braves because they’re still the Braves (and the Phillies are still the Phillies…)

New York Yankees (93-69/AL Wild Card) I hate sounding like a broken record but I simply refuse to pick against the Yankees in the regular season so long as Derek Jeter is taking the field everyday.

Keeping an already established Joba Chamberlain in the bullpen is a wise move, because the Yankees biggest weakness will be their starting pitching. One man who hasn’t started at the big league level isn’t going to change a whole rotation. However, the one-two punch of Joba and Mariano Rivera will protect late inning leads for the Yanks when they have them. More importantly, they will help account for the inconsistencies of the New York starters.

This team could find itself down big early in ballgames, but with its loaded and unrelenting offense and a couple stoppers at the end of the game, no deficit will be insurmountable for the Bombers (except the 0-2 one they’ll face against Detroit in the playoffs).

Los Angeles Angels (94-68/AL West Champions) An interesting pattern has developed the last six years. The Angels, Yankees and Red Sox have been the three most consistent franchises in the American League. Since 2002, all three have made at least four postseason appearances and averaged better than 91 wins per year

The Angels have had continued success by playing aggressive baseball; they steal bases, hit and run, squeeze. John Lackey and Kelvim Escobar are rocks at the top of their rotation; Scot Shields and Francisco Rodriguez have been as good as they come at the end of games. In October, however, that all changes. The Angels pitching staff cannot deal with the Red Sox offense, particularly David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez.

The Yankees, meanwhile, can barely touch the Angels hurlers. Twice the Yankees have lost to Los Angeles in the playoffs (2002 and 2005), and twice the Angels have been defeated by Boston (2004 and 2007). What am I getting at? The Angels have established themselves as the class of the American League, right there with the Red Sox and Yankees. Seattle will push them hard, but LA will be back in October, albeit briefly.

Tommorow, find out who will be playing for a pennant, and who will be participating in (and winning) the 2008 World Series...

March Madness Preview

Matt Chaprales — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 16:01:25 -0400

The NCAA tournament field begins with 65 teams, and in the span of four days, is whittled down to 16. Transpiring more like a continuous strike of lightning than 48 separate basketball games, the first two rounds of the Big Dance make it impossible to do anything else for the better part of 80 hours.

Once the first ball goes up on Thursday at noon, you won’t see a blink throughout college basketball until Sunday evening.

By then, the real picture will have started to come into focus.

A few teams whose lower seeds indicate they should have fallen but remain standing will be given the Cinderella treatment, but chances are they won’t fit into the slipper.

In reality, only a handful of schools each year have a viable shot at the whole shebang, and no champion has ever been called Cinderella. To win six consecutive elimination games requires lots of talent, a considerable amount of depth, and outstanding coaching.

Plus, of course, more than a little luck.

Following is a region by region breakdown of key games, possible sleepers, and the schools that will find their way to San Antonio.

East Region

Game to watch (5) Notre Dame vs. (12) George Mason

It was two years ago that George Mason turned the college hoops universe inside out, winning a regional final against a UConn team stacked with future NBA players. The Patriots instantly became the most improbable Final Four team (an 11th seed) in tournament history.

After missing the Dance last year, Mason is back, and so is the mystique associated with the name. Notre Dame, on the other hand, is looking to settle some unfinished business after getting upset by Winthrop in last year’s tournament. The Irish have the inside/outside combo with Luke Harangody and Kyle McAlarney, but the Patriots won’t back down.

Possible sleeper (7) Butler

The Bulldogs have the resume of a top-five seed: 28 wins–Texas Tech, Virginia Tech, Ohio State and Florida State among them—and only three losses (by an average of four points). They are led by a great point guard (Mike Green) and a cold-blooded shooter (A.J. Graves). Graves was the catalyst of their run to the Sweet 16 last year. And like it did against Florida last March, Butler has the ability to slow down a high-flying offense like Tennessee, the team it will be facing in the second round.

Advances to San Antonio (1) North Carolina

The Tobacco Road to the Alamo is paved for the Tar Heels. The number one overall seed in the tournament is always rewarded with the most favorable travel schedule. Two games in Raleigh followed by a regional in Charlotte (where the Heels just won the ACC tournament championship) should make up for what could be a few roadblocks (Notre Dame/Louisville/Tennessee). Tar Heel faithful are about as faithful as they come, and with UNC primed to make another run at the title, it’s just not possible to envision them getting bumped in their home state. And don’t forget about that Tyler Hansbrough character…

Midwest Region

Game to watch (6) USC vs. (11) Kansas State

Is there really any debate? Is it really a coincidence that the two most iconic freshmen in the country (O.J. Mayo and Michael Beasley) find themselves matched up against one another on college basketball’s grandest stage? I think not.

While Beasley is pretty much the consensus number one pick in next years draft, as Kevin Durant was at this time last season, can Beasley pen a different conclusion to his brief collegiate career? Many thought Durant was going to replicate Carmelo Anthony’s performance of a few years before but that journey never even began as Texas was manhandled in the first round by…you guessed it, USC! Once again, in this matchup I don’t see a coincidence. I do see a heck of a basketball game though.

Possible sleeper (6) USC

The Trojans are toeing that line between sleeper and under-the-radar favorite. Most teams would prefer the former. Let’s put it this way: if USC can get past Kansas State, with Mayo and Taj Gibson representing a formidable and confident inside/outside presence, I see them running through Wisconsin and Georgetown en route to the Midwest Regional Final. They’re that scary.

Advances to San Antonio (1) Kansas

I won’t mince words. The Jayhawks, while maintaining a consistently elite recruiting class since the departure of Roy Williams, have drastically underperformed in March since Bill Self took over. That said, this is undoubtedly the most versatile Kansas team since the likes of Kirk Hinrich and Drew Gooden had them in three out of four regional finals. Brandon Rush, Mario Chalmers and Sherron Collins are probably the best guard-trio in the country, and as anyone who follows the madness knows, guard play wins in March. This is the year Kansas gets back to the Final Four.

South Region

Game to watch (6) Marquette vs. (11) Kentucky

Big programs with experienced leaders traditionally make for entertaining tournament games. You’ll be hard-pressed to find an opening round matchup boasting two bigger powerhouses. As for tenured-leaders, look no further than Dominic James of Marquette and Kentucky’s Joe Crawford. With a combined seven years between them, both have played in a lot of important games. Add to that the rivalry that began when the Golden Eagles, carried by a phenom (one Dwyane Wade), stunned the top-seeded Wildcats in a 2003 regional final, and you have a recipe for a first round heart-pounder.

Possible sleeper (12) Temple

Under legendary coach Jon Chaney, no one really took note of how Temple got into the tournament when it did. All that mattered to opposing coaches and teams was the fact that the Owls were always a dark horse to make a deep run. Since Chaney’s departure, Temple has taken a few steps back, but the parallels between the 2008 Owls and past Temple teams are quickly becoming apparent: slow start, strong finish, unlikely Atlantic 10 tournament champion. The blueprint is there.

Advances to San Antonio (2) Texas

I think Memphis is the meanest, toughest and best overall team in the country. The problem is, they can’t shoot free throws! It doesn’t matter how good you are, because any team that has plans of winning it all will have to finish multiple games at the free throw line. The Tigers barely shoot 60 percent as a team, and their best free throw shooter, Derrick Rose, is a shade under 70 percent. That’s not going to cut it against a team like Texas. D.J. Augustin and A.J. Abrams are arguably the top guard-tandem in the country, and both are better than 79 percent shooters at the charity stripe. The Longhorns will advance because their guards can close out games.

West Region

Game to watch (7) West Virginia vs. (10) Arizona

There is always one team that has something to prove after gaining what many believe to be a bogus tourney bid. Last year it was Stanford. This year it’s Arizona. The Wildcats lost twice to Arizona State and finished with a worse conference record than their in-state rival, which had much of the college basketball world up in arms about ASU’s snub. The only way to justify its 24th straight tournament berth (the nation’s longest active streak) would be for the Wildcats to beat a traditionally solid tournament team in the Mountaineers.

Possible sleeper (5) Drake

It’s tough to deem a fifth seed a “sleeper” but Drake is certainly not a household name. They just finished annihilating the Missouri Valley Conference—which has shed the “mid-major” label with its quality and depth the last few years—and sport a 28-4 record overall. It looks like they’ll be meeting a suddenly-stumbling Connecticut team in the second round. A Sweet 16 appearance looks increasingly likely for the Bulldogs.

Advances to San Antonio (1) UCLA

Of all the top seeds, the Bruins have the fewest obstacles standing between them and another Final Four, as the West is the only region without multiple title contenders. The nucleus of this team—Darren Collison, Josh Shipp, Alfred Aboya, Lorenzo Mata–has been sniffing a national title the last two years, only to be thwarted by Florida both times (first in the National Championship, and last year in a National Semifinal).

The Gator dynasty has been dismantled and Kevin Love is on the scene, which bode well for UCLA. This should be their easiest passage to the Final Four. The real question is will they be able to finish the job they began in 2006?

Celtics' Have Eyes on the Prize

Matt Chaprales — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 10:19:09 -0400

When you think about it, the Celtics have been engaged in an interminable period of adjustment since Danny Ainge began wheeling and dealing, the day after the draft last summer.

Once Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett were introduced in green, the Celtics had to adjust from life as a bottom feeder to an existence as a veritable contender. Then, after starting 29-3, they had to make the delicate transition from contender to early front-runner.

Most recently, when KG had to sit out nine games prior to the All-Star break with an abdominal strain, they were forced to preserve an identity without their centerpiece.

Now, with Sam Cassell and P.J. Brown are on board, fortifying one of the deepest and most talented rosters in the league, the Celtics have one last phase of adjustment to tackle: bringing it all together for a run at title number 17.

With 21 regular season games remaining, Doc Rivers has about six weeks to integrate Cassell and Brown (and consequently reduce the roles of other players). If their current track record of adjustment holds up, odds are the Celtics will keep moving forward.

That seems to have become the M.O. of this team.

As obstacles—some real, others media contrived—have presented themselves, Danny and Doc’s boys have continued to work and continued to evolve. They haven’t allowed the many highs to be too high or the few lows to be too low. They have kept things on an even keel, which is what championship teams do.

The general manager and the coach deserve their fair share of the credit.

That Ainge and Rivers showed no haste in getting Garnett back on the court was both a reflection of the faith they had in the chemistry of the team as well as a recognition of the bigger picture. Ainge has made it no secret that there will be no talk of a possible restoration of the league’s most storied franchise or even of “The Big Three” until that 17th banner hangs over the parquet.

He said as much when he stood between Ray and KG at their unveiling and has reiterated it over the course of the season.

The players wholeheartedly endorse the words of the man who assembled them, particularly the title-starved trio of stars who have led the team. Take, for instance, Allen’s comments prior to unquestionably the biggest game of the season against Detroit on March 5. “What is this game 59 for us? It’s business as usual.”

The comment may be a bit trite, but given that he said it before a game in which the Celtics locked down the Pistons in the fourth quarter with a decisive 21-9 run and reaffirmed their place at the top of the East, at the very least he was being candid. Allen only shot 1-for-9 that night, but he put in a blue-collar days work in defense of Richard Hamilton, which only served to validate his pregame assertion.

It’s business.

These days, skeptics argue that the Celtics won’t have the necessary gears to win a championship. That they won’t be able to turn it up, when hardware is on the line against teams that have already been to the promised land. Time was, skeptics contended the Celtics couldn’t improve on their amazing start, couldn’t deal with the ramifications of tumbling back to the stark reality of a loaded-NBA.

21-9 since 29-3 has silenced that line of thinking. So too has the Green’s ability to stay tops in the league in opponents field goal percentage (42 percent) and opponents points per game (90.3). No passing lane is safe against this team either, as the Celtics continue to rank among the best at creating steals (8.7 per game, fourth overall).

It’s due to a cumulative commitment and relentless effort on the defensive end that have Boston positioned where not a whole lot thought it would be: locked and loaded for the stretch run having not yet peaked.

And here comes Cassell.

It’s hard to fathom a 38-year old point guard making or breaking a championship team, but this one will. He won rings his first two years in the NBA, which furnished him with a set of stones that have been the topic of many a water cooler. His ego is accordingly robust.

He could conceivably be a problem for the incumbent and up-and-comer at his position, Rajon Rondo. Just don’t count on it.

Cassell spent considerable time with Allen in Milwaukee and Garnett in Minnesota. He knows he’s coming onto this team to take a backseat to Rondo, mentor the young man, and when called upon, assume control of the rock in crunch time. Just as KG, Ray and Paul assured everyone they would spread the wealth for the good of the team, so too has Cassell expressed his readiness to do what’s necessary to win.

“I don’t have to take 15-20 shots to make the Boston Celtics a championship team,” he said. As for Rondo? “I don’t want his job. I’m just here to make the team better.”

Cassell has talked the talk throughout his entire career. He’s done the walking too. Now he becomes the final piece on a team that has been under reconstruction for the last nine months. One last adjustment before the real games begin.

“From what I’ve heard, there’s nothing like getting a championship in Boston,” said Cassell.

You heard right, Sam.

Mets Analysis: Third Time's the Charm for the Amazins

Matt Chaprales — Sat, 01 Mar 2008 07:12:29 -0500

To say the Mets fan base has been struggling the last two seasons is like saying it hurts to break your collar bone. Both are ridiculous understatements.

If Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS forced Mets faithful into a transitory comatose state, the last three weeks of the 2007 season turned them permanently despondent.

In the weeks and months following The Collapse, I had one friend who may or may not have burned all of his Mets attire (I was too scared to inquire whether or not he had followed through on his pledge).

I had another buddy who quit on sports all together, assuming a “f— baseball, f— sports, f— it all” state of mind for longer than I care to remember.

And one more still who would literally lose the color in his face when any Mets-related topic was raised.

It was that bad.

It was as if in October of ‘06, Metropolitan nation had collectively proposed to the woman they loved, only to be rejected in the most heart wrenching of fashions.

Then, the next April she changed her mind, said yes, spent five and a half months making wedding preparations only to bail from the altar on the big day.

That’s despondent.

That was the state of the Mets.

That was all before Johan.

Before Johan, Mets fans were dreading the 2008 season more than a root canal. There’s the difference between 2007 and pre-Johan 2008.

In ‘07 the Mets—while still wounded from Game 7—began spring training with a cold sense of determination; a purpose of finishing what they had started the October before.

After establishing themselves as the team to beat in the National League, that silent confidence slowly started to turn into a careless swagger. The Mets were seven games up with 17 to play, yadda yadda yadda, and they ended up missing the playoffs.

Just like that 2007, the year of Mets redemption, was bygones.

It was the proverbial knockout blow, and no one—not even Pedro—could pull the Mets off the mat. For once, the offseason couldn’t be long enough.

To add insult to injury, when the Twins made it known they were trying to trade Johan Santana, the Yankees-Red Sox arms race reconstituted itself, which to the rest of baseball, meant either the Yankees or Red Sox would land the best pitcher on the planet, if they so chose.

Then came a play even more implausible than Yadier Molina’s mind-boggling home run in Game 7: both superpowers abstained from pulling the trigger on Johan.

That opened the door for the Mets to enter stage left and steal Santana from a Twins organization beginning to fear that in a year they would lose Johan and have nothing to show for him except an empty locker.

And poof! For the world according to Flushing, tempestuous night had at last given way to sunny day.

Suddenly Mets gear was popping up around New York again. Many shirts read “Santana” on the backs, which was as much a slap in the face to hated Yankees fans as it was a revival of Mets fandom.

The real indicator of the awakening was in each “Reyes," “Wright,” and “Beltran” jersey that started to reappear. They had all been on long hiatus in the back of the closet.

Now the jerseys are back in rotation, and the players whose names grace the fabric have been given new life as well.

Wright is ready to assume more of a vocal leadership role. Reyes has vowed to be more disciplined and mature on the base paths. Pedro says he feels better than he has in years. And that guy named Johan should be able to pitch in his two cents.

Needless to say, apprehension remains a product of Mets syndrome, newfound confidence or not.

Santana started his first game as a Met on February 29, and promptly gave up a first inning, three-run blast to Juan Gonzalez (yes, the same former MVP, “Juan Gone”, who has been long gone from baseball the last half decade).

Simultaneously, Metsblog.com, the haven for Met-chatter, started filling up with ominous postings:

“Ah Spring!! Where the dreams of all Mets fans go to die!” (Sheahey81)

“Some start…did the Wilpons ask for their money back yet?” (jtcuse44)

“We can trade him to the Yankees with the contract for Hughes and Kennedy.” (FBones24)

“The sky is clearly falling.” (ginsengbomb)

Humor can be a remedy for pain. It can also serve as a mechanism to prevent serious attachment to something. Mets fans are dealing with elements of both.

However, there’s a reason they’re even able to joke about their team again without wincing.

It’s because they know in the back of their heads that they already had a good team before it self-destructed last year. Now they have the best pitcher of the generation paired with one of the greatest of all-time.

Whether Pedro starts 18 games or 30, he will bring out the best in Johan, and he will bring out the best in the Mets. The guy does know a thing or two about saving lost franchises in the last year of his contract.

Pedro could be back next year, but Shea Stadium will not.

The final bell will toll on the hideous hunk of steel at the end of this season, and the Mets will move to newly-constructed Citi Field in 2009.

With Johan now aboard, the team and its fans can finally stop looking at the move as an escape from misery, and instead concentrate on making Shea’s swan song a tune to remember.

Red Sox Spring Training: Five Topics to Discuss

Matt Chaprales — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 06:09:39 -0500

Spring Training has barely gotten under way for the world champs in Fort Myers and there are already many questions coming to the forefront. Among them…

Coco vs. Ellsbury?

Jacoby Ellsbury will be patrolling the Fenway triangle for the next ten years. You can take that to the bank.

If the Sox brass ultimately wouldn’t package him for Johan Santana, he’s not going anywhere for a long time. The question now becomes what to do with Coco Crisp. For a guy who inspired very little confidence at the plate last year, Crisp was nothing short of mesmerizing as the Red Sox center fielder in 2007. The catch he made to formally clinch the pennant and ease an otherwise rough ALCS was a fitting summation of his ‘07 season: almost nothing offensively but a savior in center.

Ideally for Coco and the Red Sox, both he and Ellsbury start hot this spring. That will enable Ellsbury to ensure Terry Francona and Theo Epstein that he is ready to be the man at the top of the order (as if hitting .353 down the stretch and .438 in the World Series without even qualifying as a rookie wasn’t enough). Coco will be able to earn the starting job he wants (and deserves). And Theo will be in the best possible selling position.

Dealing Coco and a mid-level prospect would probably be enough to get another arm in return. The club's concern with its lack of depth in the starting rotation has already been evidenced by the recent signing of ex-Angel Bartolo Colon to a minor league deal.

Francona's extension?

Who could possibly argue against Tito's 3-year, $12 million contract extension?

He took over for a guy who had made the most egregious managerial blunder in Red Sox history. He arrived in a historically-wounded baseball city that was at the time stuck in a collective coma. He entered a baseball atmosphere where he wasn’t being counted on to win, he wasn’t expected to win—he absolutely, positively had to win. The livelihood of a Nation was at stake. And he did it. He managed the first team to ever climb out of an 0-3 hole. He led the first group of world champion Red Sox in 86 years.

Then he did it all over again two seasons later.

Theo and the Trio know that $4 million a year is a small price to pay to the man who has struck the right notes with his players and delivered the goods.

Manny being Manny?

Manny was the first to admit that he wasn’t Manny all last season. However, he figured things out in the playoffs.

He hasn’t forgotten about his very ordinary ‘07 regular season though, which broke a streak of nine-consecutive 30+ home run/100+ RBI campaigns. In response to the first average season of his career, he changed his offseason workout regimen, opting to train at the Athletes Performance Institute in Arizona. He reported for spring training on time (no sideshows or car shows). And when he volunteered his time to reporters in Fort Myers, he professed his love for Boston and desire to end his career as a Red Sox.

Is it a coincidence that Manny’s eight-year, $160 million contract expires after this season? Or that he has two exercisable option years at $20 million a pop? Is anything a coincidence with Manny?

He said he would gladly trade his stats from last year for the ring he won, but don’t interpret that as his being content with a sub par output in 2007. As for 2008?

“I’m just gonna go play the game, man,” he said. “Whatever happens, happens.” That’s probably as close to a verbal forewarning as we’ll ever receive from Manuel.

Will Dice-K turn it up?

This time last year was Dice-mania.

All of the focus was on catering to Dice-K and trying to do everything possible to make a monumental transition manageable. All and all the cultural adjustment was ameliorated by the dogged efforts of the Red Sox front office. They brought in specialized trainers, translators and chefs for Dice-K. They expanded the clubhouse to accommodate the Japanese beat writer contingent. John Farrell, the Red Sox pitching coach, studied Japanese. Jason Varitek put in countless hours getting to know the tendencies and intricacies of his new battery mate.

And that’s only scratching the surface.

Dice-K’s first season in America ended up reflecting that period of adjustment. He showed an ability to overwhelm MLB hitters with his array of stuff and biting fastball. But his control was a major issue and prevented him from consistently going deep into ballgames. Too often his inability to find the strike zone forced him to go away from his fastball.

This year he will have the chance to concentrate more on working with Varitek and less on assimilating to daily life half a world away from his home.

Drew year two?

Two things are certain. 1) J.D. Drew grossly underachieved in his first year as a Red Sox; he was a $14 million mess for five months, and 2) He made up for it all with a single swing of the bat.

There is no player in my lifetime who endured more scrutiny only to end up being heralded as a hero than J.D. Drew. So what should we expect in his second season?

More of the Drew we saw last September and October.

It’s apparent he had difficulty making the transition to the most critical sports town in the country. He also dealt with an illness to his son throughout the ‘07 season. But he came through when it mattered and he has that, in addition to the worst possible first year in a Sox uniform, under his belt.

If he can avoid significant injury, expect a nice bounce-back year in 2008 for the guy who struck the $14 million grand slam.

NBA Midseason Report

Matt Chaprales — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 07:15:20 -0500

The NBA needed this.

If the league was ever going to recover from the crippling blow it took as a result of the Tim Donaghy betting scandal last summer, it needed nothing short of an intriguing, unpredictable, and continually entertaining regular season in 2008.

It has gotten that, and more.

Right now its only nagging problem is the lack of depth in the East. Only five teams are over .500 (although the two best teams in the East are also the top two teams in the NBA). The West, by comparison, has ten teams over .500, with a staggering nine of those squads currently on pace to win 50 games.

That means it’s entirely possible that a 50-win team could be left out of the playoffs in the West while a few 38 and 40-win teams could be playing postseason ball in the East.

Yikes.

But don’t think about tuning out the playoffs just yet. The seemingly polarized NBA is in reality completely the opposite. There is parity among title-contenders, which is to say not only are there more than a few teams that could win it all (nine, by my count), but for once there is no clear cut favorite.

The combination of the Spurs again snoozing through a title-defense and a fistful of really good teams around them is the explanation. Overall, four things have stuck out to me that have contributed to the resuscitation of a league that was teetering on the edge of implosion a few months ago. Let’s examine them.

1) A Cinderella Story: the New Orleans Hornets

What more can be said of the city of New Orleans and its sports teams? The Saints, historically a perennial football joke throughout the state of Louisiana, reentered the Superdome two years ago and rattled off the best season in franchise history, finishing a few plays short of the Super Bowl.

And now the Hornets, after two years spent shuttling between Oklahoma City and venues in Louisiana, have returned home exclusively in 2008. They too are in the process of rewriting N’Awlins sports history. In addition to hosting All-Star festivities this weekend, the Hornets have the best mark in the West (36-15), are on pace to break the franchise record of 54 wins, and have a legitimate MVP candidate running the show.

Just how good is Chris Paul? He has dished out 15+ assists in a game eight times this year. He has also dropped 40+ points on three occasions. He’s already the best point guard of the next generation. And though it may be too much to expect the Hornets to maintain the top spot in the West, this is a team that has shown it can win on the road (a conference-best 19-7). Plus, if the fans of New Orleans have anything to say about it, their Hornets will be hard to knock off at home come playoff time (if the fans decide to show up, that is). Cinderella is usually reserved for the college ranks, but the story of this team fits the script.

2) A Resurgence: the Boston Celtics

The biggest knock on the Celtics going into this season had nothing to do with Paul Pierce, Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett. It was all about the guys around them. Where were those necessary 35-40 nightly points going to come from in order for the Celtics to win ballgames? How would the team respond when Ray inevitably went down for a period of time? Could the young guys handle the requisite mystique that went hand in hand with a basketball resurgence in Boston?

All of those questions were slowly being answered all year through consistent play and gritty defense from role players like Rajon Rondo, Leon Powe, James Posey, Tony Allen and Eddie House. Then the imminent injury happened, except it wasn’t Ray that went down. It was KG.

The cynics eagerly awaited the impending swoon, but it never came. The team only got stronger. First they beat Dallas on national television. Then on a Sunday afternoon game against the defending champion-Spurs, it all came together. They played with swagger, with purpose. Against a team full of bling, a team that Paul had never beaten in his own house, the Celtics played like they were the champs.

They did it on Red Auerbach’s court without their best player. It took a guy like Glen Davis ferociously manning up Tim Duncan on a national stage to finally open some eyes. Suffice to say they’re opened now. The Celtics went 7-2 without the league’s MVP and proved to everyone who was skeptical that they are more than the “Boston Three Party”. A good deal more.

3) Big Trades: The Lakers and Suns

Shaq is back in the West and Kobe has a front court. Enough said.

Okay, I’ll say more. Shaq is a man who likes to undertake missions. He handled business in Miami, and his presence brought the city sustained joy and a ring. Now he’s in Phoenix, trying to be the final piece on a team that has already been on the brink of a championship the last three years.

As a keen auxiliary to Steve Nash and Amare Stoudemire, Shaq should be able to provide the Suns with what they need: a big man with championship experience who can guard the paint on defense, haul in rebounds and outlet the ball to Nash and the runnin’ Suns. In his ripening age Shaq has recognized he’s best suited as a facilitator for the stars around him, but that doesn’t mean he’s lost an ounce of his incomparable competitive edge.

As for Kobe, well he should at last be sufficiently sold on the intent of the Lakers to win now. By adding Pau Gasol to a front court that already featured an established veteran in Lamar Odom and a rising big man in Andrew Bynum (who has been under the tutelage of one Kareem Abdul Jabbar for some time), Kobe has what he’s wanted since he ran Shaq out of town four years ago.

That’s three guys at or around seven feet, each possessing distinct low post capabilities. However, the Lakers have serious health issues to cope with. Kobe has torn ligaments in his pinkie finger, which mean either surgery (and 6-8 weeks on the sideline) or playing through pain. If Kobe can fight through it and Bynum comes back healthy, the Lakers will be a bona fide contender. I still see them a year removed that status. Regardless, Suns-Lakers in round two this year would definitely be must-see television.

4) Contenders!

As I wrote above, there are nine legitimate contenders this year, or about seven and half more than usual.

In the East, the Celtics have the pieces and chemistry to win it all. The Pistons have a nucleus that has done it before.

In the West, the Spurs remain the team to beat. The Lakers have been a thorn in the side of San Antonio, preventing them from reaching true-dynasty status. The Suns are the hungriest team in the West, and with a little diesel power they could be motoring towards a championship. The cohabitation (which is an understatement) of Allen Iverson and Carmelo Anthony has the Nuggets straight chillin’ and waiting for their shot. The Mavericks might have wasted their opportunity two years ago, but after last year’s debacle, I wouldn’t count Dirk out just yet. The Hornets are onto something down in the Big Easy. And the Jazz, led by Deron Williams and Carlos Boozer, showed they were on their way to the next level by making a run to the Western Finals last year.

So there it is. The NBA is back. The NBA is fun again. The NBA cares.

(And David Stern didn’t even have to break out the mind control device.)

18-1: The 2007 New England Patriots

Matt Chaprales — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 07:13:04 -0500

Football has a knack for defining its most indefinable in the simplest of fashions.

The Catch. The Drive. The Fumble. The Tackle.

Minus the article, each exists merely as a single inherent, fundamental aspect of the game. Add the article and you get four of the of the most miraculous happenings in NFL history.

The Catch propelled the 49ers to the first of their four Super Bowls led by Joe Montana. The Drive and The Fumble, endured by the Browns at the hands of the Broncos in successive AFC Championships, still haunt the city of Cleveland. And The Tackle of Tennessee’s Kevin Dyson at the 1-yard line by Rams linebacker Mike Jones, solidified “The Greatest Show on Turf”. Other than The Immaculate Reception, I can’t think of one history-changing play that stands out both in significance and formal historic title.

I guess what I’m trying to say is before this week I’d never really understood why football always seemed to qualify its most cherished and improbable moments in such a nuts and bolts kind of way. Then, in the five days following Super Bowl XLII, I found myself waking up everyday thinking about one thing—That Play.

I would see Jarvis Green and Richard Seymour with Eli Manning in their mitts, see Eli yank himself away, cock back and throw—knowing that with all that time the Giants receivers must have gotten behind the Patriots secondary—then see Rodney Harrison actually there. There to make a play that he makes, almost snapping the back bone of David Tyree as he wrestles him to the ground.

Yet somehow the ball rests between Tyree’s hand and his helmet; the only part of his person not in violent contortion as a result of Harrison’s hit. Everything hits the ground. Except the ball. The catch has been made. That Play has happened. Except it doesn’t strike me. It doesn’t compute. Everything we’ve been through. Everything they’ve been through. It all vanishes with one epic play.

Only when I was able to comprehend That Play itself did I finally realize why football needs no poetry to capture its greatest happenings. They capture themselves. That’s the beauty of the NFL Playoffs, of the game of football: It’s simplicity. One chunk of sixty minutes will determine a winner and a loser. There is no championship series; no losing home field but still having a shot on the road; no regrouping after a total brain fart.

In football, tomorrow exists not as another opportunity but as a finality. It’s hard to believe that on the first “tomorrow” after the 2007 NFL season, the perfect-Patriots were suddenly the defeated-Patriots. It took them 18 games and five months to gain monolithic status, something that could only be substantiated by their unprecedented 18-0 record. And it took sixty minutes to wipe it all away.

The writing was on the wall. Books by the Boston Herald and Boston Globe chronicling the historic 19-0 Patriots. A victory parade in the works for Super Tuesday (Boston.com story). A celebrity girlfriend in attendance. An ankle injury dismissed as another insignificant speed bump in the slow but sure trek to immortality. By the time the confetti was falling in Glendale, all had become terrible omens.

When the confetti arrived, the book disappeared.

So too did the map of the parade route. And while we won’t ever know for sure just how ominous Gisele’s presence was, or more importantly, how severe Brady’s ankle injury was, we fell into the trap. Might as well call it the perfect trap.

I remember hearing about the book and the parade sometime during Super Bowl week, and how briefly, a chill ran down the back of my spine. I recalled how during the Patriots first Super Bowl run, the Steelers were handing out Super Bowl tickets before the AFC Championship and St. Louis was planning championship festivities before they had even lined up against New England.

I remember how I scoffed at the time. The parallels between the 2001 Patriots and 2007 Giants (not to mention the teams they were facing as well as the grandeur of their fan bases) had already been well established. You know where the parallels ended? At Brady and Belichick’s perfect 3-0 record in Super Bowls as the platform on which 18-0 stood. Thus the trap had been set.

There was to be no wavering. The outcome, although most critical, seemed most obvious. It was obvious because of 3-0 and 18-0, because of the swagger that went along with those unblemished marks, because of the bitter feelings of resentment that had stemmed from CameraGate, because of the fact that anyone tied to the Patriots was up against everyone else.

In Week 2 a line was drawn in the sand. On one side were the Patriots, led by Bill Belichick and Tom Brady, followed by their supporters. On the other side was everyone else, led by Eric Mangini, Mercury Morris and (evidently) Arlen Specter. As time passed and wins mounted, the divide only grew wider; the respective feelings only became harsher.

Like it often does in football, it all became personal. It still is. Will always be. However, That Play happened. That Play threw history off its axis. At this moment past and future mean nothing. Right now, the Giants are champions and the ‘72 Dolphins are the only perfect team in football history.

As for everyone on the “enemy side” of that line in the sand–coaches, players, fans, writers alike–it is now bitingly clear that for all of us, pride came before the fall. The 2007 Patriots finished 18-1 and will be remembered as the greatest failure in football history.