Innaugural Tri-Coast Sports Melee

After a few months of convincing my podcast partners in crime to go by the somewhat narcissistic moniker "The JBorhood Podcast", I can no longer control their burgeoning egos and have agreed to change the name of the show to one that suggests a slightly more equitable share of responsibility (regardless of whether or not it exists). Loyal readers will still know who does the heavy lifting (*ahem*), but the new name will satisfy the prima donnas. (In case you can't see it, my tongue is planted firmly in my cheek. Frankly, I can't believe I convinced the two more talented individuals to name the podcast after me for as long as I did.)

With that said, I am proud to present the first ever Tri-Coast Sports Melee. The only Chicago-centric, Bay Area-slanted amateur sports podcast recorded from the shores of Lake Michigan to the sands of Waikiki Beach, an esteemed distinction, to be sure.

On this week's episode, we touch on why the Lakers are still in control of the Suns, the glaring weakness of Dwight Howard (and maybe LeBron James), and, of course, the Great Dirk Nowitzki Debate of twenty-ten.

Sit back, relax, crack open a frosty tall can of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enjoy the show.

LET'S GET IT ON: Tri-Coast Sports Melee - 5/24/2010

Jew and a half talking sports

Occasionally, my "real" job interferes with my ability to record inane sports blather. Undeterred by my absence, podcast stalwarts Matt Kolsky and Mike Oppenheim put together a special segment they call "A Jew and a Half Talking Sports".

While it lacks the smooth baritone of your truly, it's chock full of the razzle-dazzle you've come to expect here in the JBorhood. The fellahs extol the virtues of Rajon Rondo, call-out Dwight Howard, give an insiders take on the NHL playoff, and contemplate the reasons Jennifer Aniston can't find a man.

Enjoy: A Jew and a Half Talking Sports

2010 NBA Playoffs Second Round Wrap-Up Podcast

It's been a busy week for the Almighty J. (For the record, yes, I did just refer to myself in the third person by a self given nickname. If I could shave three seconds off my 40 time, learn to catch, and not cry like a sissy girl when someone tackled me, I'd make one hell of an NFL wide receiver.)

But, because of fervent demand, errr.... some demand, errr... because one person asked, errr... because we felt like it, Matt Kolsky, Mike Oppenheim and I sat down to follow-up on our award winning (I believe it took home the coveted most-likely-to-put-you-to-sleep award) 2010 NBA Playoff Preview Podcast and break down what's happened in the first two rounds of the playoffs.

Why is the world finally catching on to the fact that Rajon Rondo is the best point guard in the known universe, just like I've said for the past year?

What do the Duke Blue Devils and the Orlando Magic have in common?

And did Mike really just say that LeBron James's idols are Matt Leinart and Paris Hilton? (Yes. Yes, he did.)

It's all right here. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

2010 NBA Second Round Wrap-Up Podcast

What the NFL can learn from my Mom

After the first round of the NFL draft, my Mom asked me a seemingly simple question: Why did so many teams pass on Tim Tebow?

I started to fire off a knee jerk response, listing the official Tim Tebow bullet points ESPN pummeled into my skull the past three months -- no experience in a pro style offense, not a polished passer, needs to overhaul his throwing motion -- when I realized the answer was far more complex and begged a far more interesting and fundamental question:

Should so many teams have passed on Tim Tebow?

Tim Tebow is arguably the greatest college football player of all-time. In his four years at the University of Florida, he won two National Championships; won the Heisman Trophy and finished second in the Heisman voting the following year; led the Gators to a 35-6 record as a starter; broke the SEC record for rushing touchdowns and total touchdowns in a season; completed over 67 percent of his passes, including a mind boggling 70.1 percent his senior year; and threw 88 touchdowns and only 15 interceptions. All this, while performing countless circumcisions as a missionary in the Phillipines during the off-season. By all accounts he's a gentleman, a scholar, and as hard a worker and as nice a guy as you'll ever meet. In short he's everything you'd want in your best friend, let alone your NFL Quarterback.

But, you already know that. And, even if you don't, you know the one stat about Tim Tebow that actually counts: He wins football games, lots and lots of football games.

So, what changed? What's so different about the NFL? Why do the supposed smartest minds in the game agree that Tim Tebow's overwhelming success playing football (in college) won't translate to playing football (in the NFL)?

In short, nothing, nothing, and because they're huffing glue.

(I have no evidence that NFL decision makers are actually huffing glue and their lack of confidence in Tim Tebow is more likely the result of a conservative NFL culture that stifles innovation than a consequence of prevalent inhalant abuse, but some decisions certainly make you wonder... (Tyson Alualu? Really, Jacksonville?))

In all fairness, their are a few significant differences between college and pro football. The NFL is a pass-first league, dominated by the Peyton Mannings and Tom Bradys of the world. In college, teams employ vastly different styles, ranging from the pass-wacky I'd-use-my-offensive-linemen-as-receivers-if-the-NCAA-allowed spread offense of June Jones to the run-focused every-time-I-call-a-pass-play-a-part-of-my-soul-dies triple option attack Paul Johnson employs at Georgia Tech. Also, the disparity in talent between teams is far greater in college football than in the NFL. When Tim Tebow took the field for Florida, he was protected by 6' 4", 300-pound monsters named Maurkice (no, really) who physically over-matched opponents in all but two or three games a year. In the NFL, every team team has a Maurkice, not to mention a D'Brickashaw and a Jahri.

But, those aren't reasons; Those are excuses.

Two years ago, people called the spread offense a "gimmick". Then the Patriots employed the "gimmick" to set the NFL record for points in a season and come within one act of God from winning the Super Bowl. Now all NFL teams employ a spread package (On a random note, that's probably the first time in the past three months a sports writer has used the term "employ a spread package" without referencing Tiger Woods). The same thing is happening with the Wildcat and there's no reason it (pick one) can't/won't/shouldn't happen with the Read Option offense Tebow deftly executed at Florida. With very few exceptions (and apologies to Steve Spurrier), if it works in college, it will work in the NFL.

And, yes, Tebow played with vastly superior talent in all except two or three games a year. But, you know what he did in those two or three games? He won them. In his four years at Flordia, Tebow went 14-5 against the Top 25, won two National Championships and three total BCS games. The bigger the stage, the bigger the performance.

But this happens all the time, and not just in football. Players dominate in college, create a legacy of virtuoso performances and, yet, some time between the end of the college season and the draft, general managers find obscure reasons to discount their success. They're too short (Ray Rice); They don't have a defined position (Percy Harvin); Their knees don't have any connective tissue (DeJuan Blair. Ok, at least I can understand why that might be a teeny smidge of an issue in a sport -- basketball -- that requires you to flex your knee tendons approximately 47,000 times a game, but the fact that the second most productive player in all of college basketball and someone who hucked the 7' 2" number two pick in the draft over his shoulder in a judo throw that would have made Bruce Lee weep with pride lasted until the 7th pick of the second round will forever boggle my mind. And no, I am not at all bitter that the Chicago Bulls refrained from using either of their two first round picks to select Blair. Not bitter at all. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go burn my James Johnson jersey.). These are all valid concerns, but, shouldn't we be more concerned with a player who failed to excel at the marginally important, vaguely relevant task of actually playing the game?

This mindset makes even less sense with Quarterbacks. If history has taught us anything about the NFL Draft, it's that drafting a Quarterback is a crap shoot. Despite continued advances in scouting and statistics, selecting an NFL Quarterback is a coin flip at best. Some first round picks fizzle (JaMarcus Russell, come on down!) and some late round picks turn into Hall of Famers (See Brady, Tom). So, if you're going to mortgage the future of your franchise on a single player,wouldn't you put your money on the hardest working, most accomplished player of the past decade?

If you don't know the answer at this point, you can always ask my Mom.