Bleacher Report - Articles by Justin Swiderski

Franck Ribery Is Ugly (And Other Qualms with Selling Cristiano Ronaldo)

Justin Swiderski — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 11:18:36 -0400

Last summer, I didn't know what to think about Cristiano Ronaldo's possible departure. Now, the reigning player of the year is all but gone, and not much has changed. I still don't know what to make of losing one of the best players in the world.

On the one hand, I believe Ronaldo will be impossible to replace. He scored 42 goals two years ago while alternating between wing and forward. Despite injury and poor early form, he nearly led the Premier League in scoring again this season. Regardless of numbers, he's a scoring threat other teams are constantly aware of.

That's not something you can replace with a couple of Antonio Valencias or Franck Riberys.

Ah, Ribery. The French winger has been linked to Old Trafford for a few months now. He's fantastic, and I love his style, but I just can't find myself eager to look at the ugliest footballer in the world on a regular basis.

Seriously, he's hideous. Look at him. LOOK AT HIM!

Not that I was particularly interested in Ronaldo's looks, though his new buddy, Florentino, did describe him yesterday as "an officially good looking guy." It's just never good for your team to get that much uglier. Especially when the original winger was officially good looking. It was official!

So, the team is (potentially) uglier and definitely lacking a dominant wing option. Yes, I know Ryan Giggs had a nice year (if you're the sentimental type), but are his 36-year-old legs the ones you want featuring frequently?

And behind the old master...Nani? Ji-Sung Park? Paul Scholes? They're all nice role players, but that's the point. They were nice role players who complemented or substituted for Ronaldo.

None will replace him, and United's squad as a whole is probably much weaker.

There is, however, one United player whom everyone assumes will benefit from Ronaldo's departure.

Wayne Rooney has been spectacular for England in a central striker role. Without Ronaldo (and his ego) around, Rooney will have to be Manchester's main goal scorer. His recent form for the national side suggests he's up to it.

I am thrilled at the prospect of watching him flourish without having to submit to Ronaldo—or worry about who's submitting to whom.

Sorry, I had to include that one. It actually brings up another positive of Ronaldo leaving: My friends can no longer make fun of me for rooting for such an unlikable person.

Seriously, if he weren't so fantastic on the pitch, is there a person on earth who wouldn't want to punch Cristiano Ronaldo in the face? The preening, the diving, the pleas to be sold, the unusual hair, and the everything else that just makes him seem like a...um...well, everything that makes this picture.

Yeah, the guy's a weird dude, and that I will not miss.

One way or another, he's finally gone. Whether that's good or bad doesn't need to be decided on the day of his transfer.

While I look forward to a whole summer of rumored arrivals instead of the daily Ronaldo departure story, I can't help but think that no matter who puts on the famed No. 7 shirt next, no one will be better.

At least Ribery doesn't wear short shorts.

Juvenile Joy: How Ken Griffey Jr. Brings Back the Kid in Me

Justin Swiderski — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 11:26:08 -0500

I'm a childish sports fan. I know I'm not alone when I admit that, because it's inherent to being a good fan. Performing the odd rituals that are expected of us requires a fairly low level of maturity, and I don't even think I'm as childish as they come.

There's nothing wrong with any of this—it's what makes watching sports fun.

But today, I'm feeling more like a kid than usual, thanks to another Kid. Ken Griffey Jr. is heading back to the Seattle Mariners, and I'm happy as a 10-year-old on his birthday.

As an immature sports fan (perhaps that's even redundant), I quickly tire of hearing about all that's wrong with sports every day—the steroids, the off-field incidents, the giant egos. The disappointment never ends.

Griffey going back to Seattle is the antithesis of all that.

Obviously, it's great because he's completing the circle of his career. He can become the first Mariner to hit 400 home runs with the club. He can give Seattle fans something to finally be happy about (have they been happy at all since he left in 2000?). He can retire in the city where he started his career and become the first to wear a Mariners hat into the Hall of Fame.

That's all wonderful. The child in me, however, is excited for far more personal reasons.

When I was a kid (and I'm not that far removed from that title), I was the biggest Griffey fan there was. I wore through Seattle hats and Griffey jerseys, wore Nikes with my hat backward, just like the Kid.

I collected an entire binder of Griffey baseball cards, 90-something in all (I might regret putting that in print...). I stayed up late to watch Mariners games, even as the West Coast start times clearly violated my bedtime.

Sometimes I would refuse to put my head on the pillow until the Kid unleashed that beautifully smooth swing and sent another home run over the Kingdome's turquoise wall. And he usually did.

I could go on for pages, but the point is that I was a Griffey fan of the highest order.

Though the fervor faded as I got older and Junior left Seattle, you never let go of your first sports hero. Every time I watched him hobble off with another injury, I grimaced. Every milestone home run he hit, I celebrated.

As he aged, Griffey seemed to vindicate my adoration at every turn, a devoted family man who kept his hands clean of the steroid era.

He's aged the right way, developing a potbelly and watching his statistics slow the way a beat-up middle-aged outfielder's numbers should. And he still gives photographers that classic photo op, giggling in the dugout with his hat turned backward.

It's a great (and rare) feeling to have a sports hero you can be so proud of. Imagine my tortured adolescence if I'd have rooted for Barry Bonds (virtually an identical player in the '90s, save for the surliness) instead. I feel like a parent who raised the nicest boy in the neighborhood.

So that's why the kid in me is so happy about the Kid. Ending his career in the place it began is the perfect thing to do, but what's even cooler will be remembering Griffey the way he was when I was 10 years old.

I can't wait to see him put on No. 24 again (could you even look at that No. 17 White Sox jersey?), glide out to the outfield (even if it's left field now), and flash that big smile in the city where he's always belonged.

I may just have to stay up past my bedtime to watch.

Joey Gathright Signing Best Move of Chicago Cubs' Offseason

Justin Swiderski — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 01:57:50 -0500

It's been difficult for me to watch the Cubbies this offseason. Not that I thought the 2007 and '08 N.L. Central champs needed much re-tooling, but the moves they have (and haven't) made just don't feel like good ones to me.

Letting Kerry Wood go even though he wanted to stay, just because we didn't want to offer him more than a year? Wood just had a very good year in his first as a closer, and the Cubbies couldn't tack on an extra year for him.

Trading some young talent for the immortal Kevin Gregg to replace one of the most beloved and skilled Cubbies in recent memory? Hey, anytime you can send away an All-Star closer and trade a young guy with a mid-90s fastball and good breaking stuff for a 30-year-old reliever with a career era of 4.00, you have to make that deal.

Failing to trade for Jake Peavy, a Cy Young-winner in his prime, who wanted to come to Chicago, after getting the fanbase all riled up? Yes, the price for Peavy was high, but was it too high to have the best rotation in recent baseball history? Peavy should've been in Cubbie blue.

Heading toward Christmas without that left-handed, power-hitting outfielder Jim Hendry insists is the team's No. 1 priority (and possibly what kept them from getting Peavy)? Although those Mark Teahen rumors (career .268, 47 Hrs...Career!) were certainly thrilling...

None of this impresses me. Which is why I'm way more excited than I ought to be that Hendry signed Joey Gathright to a one-year, $800,000 deal. This is the best news of the offseason! And I'm no longer being sarcastic or facetious!

Joey Gathright brings things to the table that I believe the Cubs can use.

First, he's fast as a gazelle being chased by a cheetah in a fighter jet. That's a fact—it's science. Speed is the sort of thing that can be the difference in the postseason. In fact, it's played a part in beating the Cubs in each of their past three ugly postseason defeats (Juan Pierre and Luis Castillo in '03, Eric Byrnes, Chris Young, and Justin Upton in '07, Pierre again with Rafael Furcal and Matt Kemp this past October).

Gathright's speed off the bench could end up being big should the Cubbies make the playoffs again. Isn't it easy to imagine him and his career 75 percent success rate swiping a bag in a big moment, a la Dave Roberts for Boston in 2004? It's not good for my mental health as a Cubs fan that I'm already excited for this.

Gathright also brings great versatility as an outfielder who can play all three positions, something that's proved useful for the Cubs as Alfonso Soriano has a definite penchant for injuries, Kosuke Fukudome is a question mark, who's probably being pencilled in as a centerfielder, and Lou Piniella seems to have a strange aversion to playing Reed Johnson, despite his sturdy production.

If nothing else, Gathright will at least give Piniella a reason not to play the eternally disappointing Felix Pie. If nothing else, he will provide some speed and versatility, the sort of thing that gets a team through a long season and can spark something in the playoffs.

If nothing else, we can at least be treated to seeing clips of Gathright jumping over cars, over and over again.

The 2009 Chicago Cubs...I'm pumped.

Hubris and Humiliation: Chicago Cubs Fans Help Make It 100 Years

Justin Swiderski — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 03:03:05 -0400

Are you happy Cubs fans? Are you proud of yourselves? Because this one's on you.

With a team that hadn't won a World Series in a century, Cubs fans and the media have been acting as if there were no doubt that this was the year the North siders would finally break through. The attitude had become less of a hope than an apparent certainty, best summed up by the fans' adopted slogan: It's Gonna Happen.

Not, "Believe," or "Maybe This Year?" It's Gonna Happen. What an arrogant theme to adopt. Did we feel as though we were owed something, as if there were no possible way the Baseball Gods would let this thing stretch to triple digits?

The superciliousness continued to mount in the weeks before the playoffs. Sports Illustrated decided it would be a fantastic idea to put the Cubs on their jinxed cover and write an eight page (eight page!) article all about why the Cubs could not lose this year.

I wanted to tear the magazine up. And it wasn't just Gary Smith's writing: the article quoted numerous Cubs fans who just couldn't contain themselves, talking about how there was no way this team could be beaten.

ESPN.com followed suit with a long feature by Jason Stark detailing all the reasons the Cubs had it locked up. Bleacher Report itself was a perfect example, as the Cubs community was littered with "Top 10 Reasons This is the Cubs' Year" articles.

Have we not been humbled by the past 100 years? After declaring that our team had been done away by a billy goat, a black cat, and a Bartman, we didn't give any consideration to the idea that maybe we, too, could have an effect?

There was nothing wrong with believing the Cubs could win this year. Without hope like that, there's no point in even being a fan. But we took it to the next level. We got arrogant. We decided that not only would this have to be the year, but we had to crow about it before it even happened.

Did anyone else catch the guy sitting behind home plate at Wrigley, wearing a customized Cubs jersey with "History 08" as the name and number? He summed up the fans' attitude perfectly: Not only were we going to win this year, we were going to call our shot. The team that was oh-for-100 was pointing to center field, the irony of Babe Ruth's called shot at Wrigley lost on us all.

That's hubris, my friends. That's arrogance. Pride comes before the fall, and as Cubs fans, we had no reason to be anything but humble this year. You don't taunt the Baseball Gods when they've already shown their wrath before. No, you walk softly with your head down, you don't guarantee anything, and you celebrate when it's over.

We've had good teams before, and we've seen them get closer than a divisional series before being humiliated.

And humiliated is exactly what I was again last night, as the mighty Cubs, the team that had to win it all, were swept out in the first round once more.

It's easy to say that the players were the culprits again this year, choking away the games with stranded baserunners and untimely errors. Heck, Alfonso Soriano is now batting about .012 as a Cub in the playoffs. But just because there was no Bartman this year, no literal fan interference, don't believe for a second that we didn't blow this thing. The Baseball Gods aren't always so blunt.

That "History 08" jersey now feels more like a personal slap in the face from the hardball deities, doesn't it?

So let's not tempt them again, fellow Cubs fans. Let's wait 'til next year, and let's keep filling the bleachers and cheering. Let's knock off the booing of our own guys (when did that start?), the ugliest sign of our championship greed. The Cubs are going to be good again next year, so it'll be easy to slip back into this arrogant state of mind. But let's not forget who they are, and who we are, along the way.

Maybe Next Year?

Cristiano Ronaldo: What's a Manchester United Fan To Do?

Justin Swiderski — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 08:59:48 -0400

It was all going so well. Manchester United were the best team in the world, Cristiano Ronaldo the best player. They'd won a terrific double; he'd scored 42 goals along the way. They'd held off Chelsea, he'd scored the only Reds' goal in regulation.

And then the headlines started coming. "Ronnie to Barca," "Ronaldo Leaving Manchester," "Cristiano's Mom Wants Him in White". Day-after-day, it became more and more evident that my favorite Red would be leaving Old Trafford.

It was difficult to grasp at first. How do you deal with the best player in the world wanting to leave the best squad? How can you justify it for them, no matter where they're from or what their mother wants? I was worried what this meant for United, and what it would mean to me as a fan.

I became so upset about it that I even started counting ways I could re-arrange my Ronaldo, 7 Manchester jersey into a new player's name. My sister has an old Wayne Rooney jersey with an eight on it, so I figured I was an "S" away from being able to make a brand new Anderson kit. Seriously. Losing a star will do these things to you.

Lately though, it's become quite easy. Reading various Ronaldo articles, quotes, and interviews, it's become obvious that he seems, in fact, "arrogant and spiteful," as Roma midfielder David Pizarro put it.

My friend Paul likes to mention that quote anytime Ronaldo comes up, and I have no comeback now.

Viewing No. 7 as the selfish and arrogant footballer made losing his greatness more bearable. I've lately been reading all the transfer rumors (rumours, as the English authors write) and wondering which would come true for Manchester.

Would United end up with Robinho, as so many papers have said? So many forwards were thrown out, like Luis Fabiano, Klass-Jan Huntelaar, or Karim Benzema. How about a talented mid, like Wesley Sneijder?

I myself have begun to pull for an outside shot at Ronaldinho, if for no other reason than to keep a talented player with Ronald in his name at Old Trafford. We could give him the old No. 7 kit and just add the suffix. That'd be fun, right? It wasn't so long ago the other Ronny wanted to join the Red Devils.

The whole process changed today though, as Manchester United's official site is reporting that Ronaldo called the team and said he'll be staying.

What am I to do with this? I've just gotten comfortable with hating my ex-favorite player, and now he's coming back to the team? Do I cheer for him or just keep dreaming up transfer scenarios until he leaves? Can I make myself like Ronaldo again, just because he's still scoring goals for my favorite team?

Ronaldo has been quoted elsewhere as saying that a few pretty goals will make everyone forget the whole thing. At the time, it seemed like he was talking about scoring for Real Madrid, but now that quote would seem (in an even more arrogant fashion) to apply to Manchester fans.

Will I forget, though? I can't see it happening at this point. I can't see myself just pretending that because Ronaldo is still wearing the red uniform that everything's fine and he never wanted out. I can't glue the letters back on my United kit (seriously, they won't stick). And I'll never get over that one day he will still be leaving.

But another 42 goals might ease the pain a little.

Relationship Counseling: Is Allen Iverson's Heart in Philadelphia?

Justin Swiderski — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 06:58:57 -0400

It felt good watching Allen Iverson get cheers upon cheers of a standing ovation heaped upon him last night in his return to Philadelphia, the type of "welcome home" that enough athletes don't receive in our booing obsessed fan culture.

As I watched A.I. soak everything in, pounding on his heart, holding his hand to his ear to absorb every last voice, I really appreciated that sports fans can be good people, and that our heroes can need us and love us as much as we do them. It was as warm and mushy as it gets.

As the spectacle went on, though, I started thinking what a Denver fan must feel like watching their superstar's lovefest in another city.

Iverson's trade to the Nuggets was a big deal. He was a superstar getting a new start in an attractive situation, alongside Carmelo Anthony and with a fan base excited to get him. Pundits debated the availability of shots in Denver's now star-laden lineup, but no one really predicted the trade would fail. Things looked good.

Over a year later, the trade still isn't a failure, but the Nuggets haven't had the type of success it seems they would've expected from Iverson either. They made the playoffs last year and bowed out in the first round, and they're currently the odd team out in the West playoff picture. Iverson and Anthony haven't exactly been Bryant and Gasol.

So that's why I think last night must have been quite awkward for a Nuggets fan. It seems like it would've felt a lot like being in a so-so relationship with a beautiful girl, and then having her see her ex for the first time in a while.

Your relationship isn't exactly on the rocks, because things aren't going poorly, per se, but you two aren't exactly drawing up marriage plans either. You know she had a long, passionate, intimate relationship with this ex, even making it to the altar one time, before breaking it off in an ugly fashion a few years later.

That's when she found you.

You were kind of a rebound for her at the time, but both of you were excited, because rebounds are fun and she was hot. A year later, though, and the physical stuff is getting monotonous, arguments are more frequent, and it's pretty clear that while it can be fun, neither of you thinks the other is the one.

And that's when the ex came back.

That's where we found Iverson last night, re-uniting with an old flame. They hadn't seen each other in a long time, and it was clear the passion was still there from both ends. The 76ers fans cheered Iverson without hesitation, and he did everything but run into the stands to give them all hugs. It was nice, but...isn't he seeing someone right now?

If I were a Denver fan, watching the ovation would've made me feel good. It would've been good to see that our guy has such qualities that make him so endaring to fans, and I'd hope we got to that point some day. I'd have felt okay with all of that.

Nerves would've set in, though, when I saw "ThxPhila" written on A.I.'s shoes. That would've sent up a red flag, the girlfriend equivalent of her wearing an old locket or ring when she knew she would be seeing her ex.

She knew she'd be seeing him, and she knew wearing that would go over well. Iverson had no doubt about the way he'd be received.

As the game went on and Iverson seemed incredibly energized, scoring 32, albeit missing the game winner, I'd have been sweating a little bit more. Is he going to feel this way about us, or is this something he only brings out for the old love?

But the real trouble would've started at the postgame press conference, when Iverson admitted he still had feelings for his old city, coming as close to saying, "I want you back" as you can without actually uttering the words.

"Maybe I won't be selling that house," Iverson said.

His return to Philadelphia was, almost definitely, a good thing by sporting standards. We saw love from the fans, but more importantly, love from Iverson, when athletes today seem repulsed by the idea that they should foster a connection with their team's city, when they could be leaving any day.

At the same time, I hope Iverson enjoyed his brief fling with his ex, because if I were a Nuggets fan, I'd have him sleeping on the couch when he came home.

Blasphemy: I'm Glad Brett Favre Is Done

Justin Swiderski — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 08:05:47 -0500

I know I'll never make it as a sportswriter, for one reason:

I've never liked Brett Favre.

It seems to be an unwritten prerequisite for being a sports journalist that you have to like Favre. For as long as I can remember, every ESPN analyst and every columnist I've read have consistently gushed about Favre.

I've never understood it.

For the Thanksgiving game in Detroit this year, Fox played an embarassing five-minute tribute to Favre, for no other apparent reason than he was Brett Favre. On a holiday game that is really about a Detroit tradition, Favre had the Fox studio crew talking as if Jesus were about to go under center against the Lions.

I switched channels to the Macy's parade.

Now that Favre finally has announced his retirement, ESPN seems to be running a day-long Favre-fest, with all of its analysts raving about his career, his last season, and his choice to hang them up. It's a disgusting 24-hour Brett Party, and it's sure to continue at least all week.

I'm watching Arsenal and AC Milan on ESPN 2, although the ESPN ticker at the bottom of the screen is reminding me twice per minute that Favre has retired.

I can't argue that Favre wasn't a good quarterback, because he was. You don't argue against records set and a Super Bowl won. But I can say that I just never understood what all the fuss was about.

Everyone says, "Well he's such a gunslinger, he has so much fun out there!" I always felt like he just couldn't make decisions fast enough, and he let his legs and arm make up for his slow choices. The gunslinger image completely is constructed by a media that is in love with him.

If anyone else tried the things he did and threw the interceptions he threw, they'd be ripped apart immediately.

Much is also made of how Favre is just a "Good-old boy who never grew up," and that his addiciton to (and subsequent recovery from) painkillers and alcohol just served to make him more human. Really?

Have we ever given this kind of free pass to a drug addict and alcoholic before? I'm certainly glad no negative consequences ever really came of Favre's vices, but I can't ever recall such habits being passed off as "endearing" with any other athlete before. Once again, Favre's image is a media construction.

The only negative that occurs to me from Favre's retirement is that there will be one fewer quality quarterback in the NFL. Aside from that, I'll be glad to see the No. 4 become a punter's number again. I'll be glad to see Green Bay develop a running game, which makes much more sense for their location. And I'll be overjoyed when I can watch a Sunday of NFL games without every analyst drooling on themselves over Favre.

He was a good quarterback, and I'm happy he played. But I'm happier that he's gone.

Lou Piniella Killing the Cubs with Lineup

Justin Swiderski — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 09:20:44 -0500

It's the best of times and the worst of times if you're a Cubs fan.

Baseball is back, and the Cubs are at HoHoKam Park preparing to break a million hearts for the 100th straight year. Literally, 100.

Optimism is required to root for the Cubbies, but this year, I'm not getting sucked in. I don't think the starting rotation is good enough, and the bullpen is nowhere near champion-quality either.

The lineup, however, does seem to pack enough punch to make the Cubs competitive, except for one small hiccup: Lou Piniella is screwing it up.

The Cubs were 18th in runs scored last season. That's not a horrifying statistic, and they could've been worse. However, for a lineup with Derrek Lee, Aramis Ramirez, and Alfonso Soriano, that seems like underachieving. In fact, it is underachieving.

How could a lineup with so much potential firepower end up scoring fewer runs than the Toronto Blue Jays, Baltimore Orioles, Tampa Bay Devil Rays, and Florida Marlins?

A lot of people, probably including Sweet Lou, would point to the Cubs’ slow start in April and May, and note the onslaught of runs at the end of the season as evidence. I disagree. The Cubs underachieved because of one thing: Alfonso Soriano was leading off.

Let me pose a situation to you. Let's say you're a major league manager. Your team acquires a right-handed outfielder who hit 46 home runs last year, and has regularly come near 40 dongs every year, but has batted .300 only once, with a career batting average in the .270s, and career OBP in the .320s. Where do you bat him?

If you said "leadoff," pat yourself on the back, because you're ready to match wits with a veteran major league manager with 22 years of experience.

Now, I'm sure Lou's argument for Soriano in the leadoff spot would have been his penchant for stealing bases (46 with Washington in 2006), but if I'm not mistaken, they still allow hitters batting second or third to steal bases, even if the situation might call for it a little bit less.

Anyway, Alfonso only got the green light 25 times last year, stealing 19 bases. It's hard for a guy to repeat a 40-40 season when he isn't even sent 30 times, although that's apparently the reason he's hitting leadoff. It certainly wasn't for his striking on-base percentage of .337.

Soriano did manage 33 home runs, which is a good total for playing 135 games and an outstanding total from the leadoff spot. But this is an even bigger reason he shouldn't have been there. Soriano was the Cubs leader in homers for 2007, but the 33 he knocked out added up to only 70 RBIs.

Know who else had 70 RBI last year? Marlon Byrd. And it only took him 109 games. Derrek Lee had 82 RBI with 11 fewer home runs than Soriano did. 70 RBI is a pretty good total for a leadoff guy, but not for your leading home run hitter.

So who should hit leadoff this year? Well, anyone but Soriano, first of all. Lee's OBP and batting average were much higher than Soriano's. Batting your first baseman leadoff would be unconventional, but so is hitting your best power hitter there. Lee moves okay for a big man, too.

Mark DeRosa is an even more logical choice, as he had a similar batting average to Soriano's, but his OBP was 40 points higher.

However, as a smart manager would have seen, the Cubs acquired a magnificent leadoff option in the off-season: Kosuke Fukudome. The man is known already as a line drive machine, and sometimes those line drives go out of the park, which means if Piniella secretly just loves having power at the top of his lineup, it's still there.

Fukudome consistently hit in the mid- to upper-.300s in Japan, and has shown good speed so far this spring, as the Cubs note on their website.

Let's re-cap: .300 hitter, line-drive machine, good speed, and potential to hit home runs. Does that sound like a better leadoff option than Soriano to anyone but Sweet Lou?