What LeBron James and my college application process have in common

I applied early decision to Stanford my senior year in high school. No other school matched it's unique blend of academics, athletics, warm weather, and proximity to Hawaii. It was my holy grail of higher education.

I had initially dismissed applying because my GPA was solid, but not immaculate. I secured a recommendation from a trustee, scored well on the SAT and SAT 2s, and -- the trump card -- I had a positive meeting with the Cardinal Crew Coach, who was impressed with my US Junior National Team kayaking background, and agreed to talk to the Admissions department on my behalf. By the time the letter arrived from Stanford a month later, I was convinced it would announce my acceptance.

It did not.

I calmly expressed my frustrations by punching a hole in my bedroom wall and went into a two month depressive funk, convinced my life was officially ruined.

It was not.

I iced my knuckles, swallowed my pride, and put the stunning rebuke behind me. I sent out applications to a number of schools, got accepted to a few, and eventually selected Pomona College.

Pomona was the polar opposite of Stanford. Stanford had over 18,000 students. Pomona had 1,500. Stanford played in the Pac-10. Pomona played in the SCIAC (I still don't know what that stands for and, frankly, don't think anyone does). Stanford was located in the heart of Silicon Valley. Pomona was located in the heart of the Inland Empire. In fact, Pomona was completely different than the type of school I envisioned when I started the college search.

It was also the perfect school for me.

I needed a school where I could make mistakes and still wind up on my feet. A school that helped me figure out who I was and what I wanted to do. I would have been lost in the shuffle at Stanford. Drowning in the deep end of the pool. Pomona's small size and tight knit student body provided the ideal setting for me to develop emotionally and intellectually. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn't change a thing, rejection and all. Suck it, Stanford. (As you can see, I'm still very mature about the ordeal.)

Now, twelve years later, my favorite basketball team, the Chicago Bulls, is on the precipice of a similar life altering decision. They spent the last three years dismantling a failed playoff contender, cutting ties with productive players in preparation for the summer of 2010 and the unprecedented free agent class. Now, it's senior year. Time for the Bulls to submit their applications, and, much like me back in High School, the Bulls have a clear favorite.

The Bulls are applying early decision to LeBron James University, the Stanford of the NBA. No other player can match his unique blend of athleticism, size, speed, strength, scoring, shooting, passing, rebounding, and defense. He is the holy grail of professional basketball.

Two months ago, I never considered LeBron a possibility for Chicago. All sources confirmed that he wanted to stay in Cleveland, his hometown. But that was before the playoffs. Before his unceremonious second round exit, the meeting with the Stanford Crew Coach of LeBron's decision making process, if you will.

Then rumors started swirling. Sources close to LeBron said he would consider leaving. Now, it's a different story every day. On Monday, the New York Times quoted an Eastern Conference General Manager saying that LeBron James to the Bulls was a done deal. On Tuesday, Stephen A. Smith reported that LeBron would join Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh in Miami. Today, the Cleveland Plain Dealer announced that the Cavaliers still have the edge to sign LeBron. (Plain Dealer? Really? If your primary newspaper is the Plain Dealer I think it's safe to say you're not a major metropolitan area. Thanks for playing, Cleveland.)

The only thing anyone can confirm is that no one has any idea where LeBron is going, possibly including LeBron himself.

But here's what I do know: The Chicago Bulls offer LeBron the best chance to win, both now and in the future. They have the necessary cap space to sign him and another premiere free agent to maximum deals (NBA regulations set the maximum dollar amount and contract length to which a player can sign). They have a budding superstar in Derek Rose, a top-5 rebounder and defensive center in Joakim Noah, an underrated swingman in Luol Deng, and a great hustle player and rebounder in Taj Gibson. No other NBA franchise can offer LeBron James the same combination of cap space and talent. If LeBron wants to win, the choice is clear.

Unfortunately, that leaves me in the same unsettling position I found myself in twelve years ago: I have utterly unrealistic expectations about a complete uncertainty. In 1999, Stanford's admission rate was approximately 12%. I'm only kidding myself if I think LeBron's chances of signing in Chicago are any higher. Yet, I am both confident and excited that LeBron James will join the Chicago Bulls. Anything less will be a complete letdown.

Two months ago, I would have been ecstatic with Chris Bosh or Joe Johnson. Even Carlos Boozer in a Bulls uniform would have given me a momentary erection (look, it's been a long time since we had a low post scorer and, no, that is not a euphemism). Now, it's LeBron or bust.

But what does bust mean? And is it really the worse option in the long run?

Without question, LeBron James gives the Bulls the best chance to win a championship. But he's not really our basketball player. He belongs to Cleveland. He grew up in Cleveland. He was drafted by Cleveland. He's played his entire career in Cleveland. If he became a Bull, we'd be leasing him from the state of Ohio. It might be a lease with an eventual option to buy, but it's not a guarantee. He may never truly belong to Chicago.

Michael Jordan played his entire career for the Chicago Bulls. (The years with Wizards never happened. You got that? NEVER HAPPENED.) As Bulls fans, we watched him grow and develop into the greatest of all time. We watched him learn. We watched him work. We watched him struggle. We watched him lose to the Pistons in the playoffs again and again and again. Finally, we watched him dismantle the Pistons and the Lakers to assume what we always knew was his rightful place atop the NBA.

Would that first title and the subsequent decade long run of dominance mean as much to me if Michael Jordan was drafted by the Trail Blazers instead of Sam Bowie and spent the first six years of his career in Portland before signing a free agent contract to play with the Bulls in the summer of 1990?

I honestly don't know.

Put a different way, if LeBron decides to join the Bulls and leads the team to it's first post-Jordan Championship, will it be as satisfying as the first six?

Again, I honestly don't know.

Maybe, in the long run, it would be better, from a fan's perspective, to sign a lower tier free agent like David Lee and let Derrick Rose continue to develop into a superstar and team leader. They wouldn't win a championship right away, and they might never win one, but if they did, it'd be because Derrick Rose developed into a transcendent superstar and we'd get to experience the joy of watching that championship grow and develop. The destination made that much sweeter because of the journey.

Right now, I don't believe that. I want LeBron and I want him badly. I want the opportunity to watch the best player in the world, once again, play for the Chicago Bulls.

But twelve years ago, I thought I wanted to go to Stanford.

So, in one week, when LeBron announces he is staying in Cleveland, I'll think of twelve years ago and hope the Bulls find their Pomona. I'll also try not to punch a hole in my wall. Because that really hurts.

Everything you never wanted to know about the NBA

This week, I sat down with JBorhood regular, Matt Kolsky, the new PR Director and TV color commentator for the Bakersfield Jam, the NBA D-League team you've undoubtably read about on Deadspin.com(Read more here). We discussed the NBA Trade Deadline, the outlook for the 2010 free agent class, and whether anyone can derail the impending Lakers-Cavs NBA Finals.

So sit back, relax, and crack open a frosty horchata...

JBorhood Podcast - 2/26/2010

Simply Great

Greatness is not elusive. It requires no searching or work to find. When you discover greatness, you know it instantly. It may take time to comprehend the extent of the greatness, but you never doubt that it exists.

Like oral sex.

Oral sex is undoubtedly great.

Anyone lucky enough to find themselves on the receiving end of its glorious wonder does not need a moment to weigh its relative merits. They’re too busy moaning in pleasure, giving praises to their deity of choice, and thinking about how much they’d pay for a lightly toasted ham and turkey with swiss (Really? Only me?). From the moment it starts, to the moment it reaches its final, toe-curling crescendo, the experience is undeniably great.

And that’s the great thing about greatness. It’s simple. If you have to ask whether something is great, it’s not.

Yet, even in the face of this indisputable simplicity, people continue to hold out hope that non-great things will somehow magically improve, evolve, and become great. Like the woman who tells her friends that her ex-con boyfriend has a really great heart and once he gets a haircut, curbs his alcohol abuse, gets a job that doesn’t involve asking whether people want to super size their extra value meal, stops robbing armored cars to pay for his heroin addiction, and quits killing hobos and burying them in the backyard, he’ll make a really great daddy.

But I’m not one to point fingers. I’m the guy that talked himself into believing that Rex Grossman would eventually be a quality NFL starter. (In Grossman’s case, I believe “quality” could be defined as throwing the ball to his teammates more than the opposing defense. *sigh*)

Sadly, us sports fans do this all the time. We so desperately want our favorite players to be great that we ignore all signs to the contrary.

“If Tavaris Jackson would stop peeing his pants at the first hint of pressure, skipping the ball off the turf before it gets to the receiver, and completed more than one out of every ten passes, HE COULD BE GREAT!”

“If Mark Prior could only stay healthy long enough to pitch six innings before complaining of nagging pains in his vaginal wall, HE COULD BE GREAT!”

“If Corey Patterson would learn that no one’s going to take away his dinner if he doesn’t swing at the first pitch, struck out less than a fraternity guy at Lilith Fair, and laid off the neck high fastball, HE COULD BE GREAT!”

“If Tyler Graunke could only study as many lines in his playbook as he snorted off his coffee table, HE COULD BE GREAT!” (That’s right. I went there. Sorry, Tyler. If you “blow” your opportunity to capitalize on the media attention generated by Colt Brennan and make it to the NFL because you were too busy doing coke, you’re gonna get called out by the JBorhood. On that note, I have to pass along my favorite Tyler Graunke story. When Tyler was backing up Colt in 2007, he hit on my buddies girlfriend, M&M, at a bar one night.

Tyler: Hi, I’m Tyler Graunke.

M&M: Who?

Tyler: You know, the Quarterback for the University of Hawaii.

M&M: Isn’t that Colt Brennan?

Tyler: Well…uh…I play too.

M&M: How nice for you.

(M&M walks away)

Let’s just say, after I heard that story, I never expected much from the Graunke era.)

Sadly, this misplaced optimism almost never pays off. Fans keep waiting for their maddeningly gifted, yet tragically flawed idol to take the next step, but it rarely happens. Occasionally, a Brett Favre, a David Ortiz, or a Chauncey Billups will flip the switch and make the leap to greatness, but those players are few and far between. Generally, the great ones are great from day one.

Which is why I’m so excited about Derrick Rose: Because Derrick Rose is great.

From his unassuming 11 point, 9 assist debut to his 36 point, 11 assist, 4 rebound explosion in Game 1 of the Bulls/Celtics series, Derrick Rose has consistently exhibited greatness. That’s not to say he hasn’t struggled – because he has – simply, that in every game, good or bad, you know you’re watching something special. Whether it’s his lightning quick first step, uncanny court vision, or the way he drives the lane, absorbs a hard hit in mid air, and still finishes strong, his uncanny blend of hustle, basketball I.Q., and freakish athleticism are on display at all times.

As a Bulls fan, I haven’t been this excited about a player since, well, since you-know-who. And I’ve been excited about A LOT of players, because the Bulls have had A LOT of high draft picks.

I convinced myself that Elton Brand was the next great power forward (when really, he was like a vanilla ice cream cone: tasty and satisfying, yet wholly underwhelming.)

I convinced myself that Jamal Crawford would be a human highlight reel (when really, his defense made him a human lay-up drill.)

I convinced myself that Eddy Curry would score at will from the low post (when really, he couldn’t even score in the low post with his male chauffeur.)

I convinced myself that Jay Williams would make a historical impact on the NBA (when really, the only thing he made a historical impact on was a utility pole. Ooooohhh…Too soon?).

But, every time I convinced myself that the next player in the long line of disappointing draft picks would be great, I had a nagging sense of doubt. I talked myself into it, but I didn’t truly believe.

Until now.

Now, I’m all in. No doubt about it. 100%.

Derrick Rose is great. The only question left is how great.

I’d stop and think about it, but I’m too busy moaning in pleasure, praying to my deity of choice, and, of course, thinking about how much I’d pay for a lightly toasted ham and turkey with swiss.

[Author's Note: In a failing of epic proportions, I wrote a tribute article to my favorite basketball player (Derrick Rose) and misspelled his name (Derek Rose). Needless to say, I have since corrected the error (and reexamined my practice of publishing articles at 1 AM). Kudos to JBor Kolsky for setting me straight.

And here I thought losing to my wife in the JBorhood March Madness Extravaganza would be my most embarrassing April mishap.]

---

Playoff Preview

Sadly, I’ve been so busy with a number of outside projects that most of the opening round series will have played three games by the time I post my predictions. On the plus side, I might actually get a few predictions right this year.

First Round

Eastern Conference

Cleveland Lebrons over Detroit Pistons

Ever since MJ retired in 98 (That’s right. 98. I don’t want to hear any nonsense about Washington. That never happened. You hear me? NEVER. HAPPENED.), basketball pundits have been dying to anoint players “the-next-Michael-Jordan”. Thus far, Kobe Bryant has come the closest, but even he hasn’t had the ability to single-handedly strap a team on his back and win a championship like Jordan did in 98 when Pippen was hobbled by a sore back, Rodman was one line of coke away from stripping naked at halftime in the playoffs and pissing all over the court, Kukoc had gained approximately 75 pounds from gorging himself on Big Macs after leaving Croatia, and the Bulls starting Center was Luc “a poor man’s Bill Wennington” Longley. This year, LeBron has a chance to step out from under the shadow of MJ, strap a scrappy, but largely untalented Cleveland team to his freakishly large back and put his own stamp on the league. First stop, Detroit. Next, the world.

LeBrons in 4

Heat over Hawks

I have to be honest: I can only name four players in this entire series: Dwanye Wade, Michael Beasley, Josh Smith, and Al Horford. When in doubt, might as well hitch my wagon to the superstar.

Heat in 6

Magic over Sixers

The Magic's best player is Dwight Howard and the Sixers best player is Andre Igoudala. If your best player’s name is Igoudala, you have problems.

Magic in 7

Celtics over Bulls

Before this series started, I would have said Celtics in 4 or 5. Now, I’m not so sure. Without KG, the Celtics are vulnerable and the Bulls are young enough and dumb enough to think they have a chance. I think the Bulls put up a valiant effort and the series goes 7 games, but I just don’t see the Bulls winning Game 7 in the Boston Garden.

Celtics in 7

Western Conference

Lakers over Jazz

The most amazing development in Kobe’s game as he’s gotten older is deference. He’s finally learned to trust his teammates (frankly, I’m not sure I could blame him for not trusting his teammates before when the team’s Point Guard was named Smush, but I digress…), and the Lakers have taken their game to another level. Pau Gasol is a perfect big man for Phil Jackson’s triangle offense and when they stay focused the Lakers look unstoppable.

I’ll go out on a limb and say the Jazz win one, maybe Game 3, on a Deron Williams buzzer beater. (Before you get impressed, check the posting date of this article.)

Lakers in 5

Rockets over Trail Blazers

Remember how I said that you know greatness when you see it? Well… I hate to break this to Blazers fans, but Greg Oden isn’t great. He’s a decent rebounder and an average defender who moves awkwardly and can’t stay out of foul trouble. Meanwhile, Kevin Durant is on his way to becoming the league's most dominant scorer. Sorry Portland, but Oden is the second coming of Sam Bowie.

Maybe it’s because I’m still bitter that the Bulls drafted Tyrus Thomas over Brandon Roy, but the Trailblazers do not excite me.

Rockets in 6

Dallas over San Antonio

On the subject of bad news, I hate to break this to Spurs fans, but your run as an elite NBA franchise is over. After playing over 1000 games and solidifying himself as possibly the best power forward of all-time, wear and tear have finally caught up to Tim Duncan. If Manu and Parker were healthy, the Spurs might have battled their way to one last title this year, but after Manu went down, the Spurs decade long run atop the NBA finally came to an end.

At least Spurs fans have four championship blankets in which to cry themselves to sleep.

Dallas in 6

Denver over New Orleans

Chris Paul is incredible (dare I say, great), but he’s a one man show. Plus, the Hornets quit on coach Byron Scott about a year ago.

Denver in 5

I'll post my second round predictions next week, maybe, if we're lucky, before three games have passed in each series.

The Annual JBorhood Thankgiving Extravaganza! 2008

Some holiday festivities, like drinking hot buttered rum and watching A Christmas Story, deserve to become traditions. Others, like getting a sinus infection, taking NyQuil, passing out and locking your wife out of the apartment, not so much (see honey, isn't it a little funny when you read it in print?).

Last year, instead of joining the reactionary miasma of sports writers who pointed out the year's Turkeys -- the year's biggest jerks and ne'er-do-wells, the JBorhood set aside time to list the things for which it was thankful in the world of sports.

(For the record, yes, I did just say "reactionary miasma", "ne'er-do-wells" and refer to myself in the third person in the span of one sentence. Kids, don't let anyone tell you that your dreams are impossible.)

I believe society in general spends too much time discussing everything that's wrong with sports (the money, the egos, the unintentionally comedic and sexually suggestive 80's dance videos). On the contrary, I enjoy the opportunity to highlight and celebrate everything right about sports. With that in mind, I'd like to formally announce a new JBorhood Tradition: The Annual JBorhood Thanksgiving Extravaganza!

Because what's a holiday without an absurdly long name?

In 2009, I'm thankful for... Ping Pong Balls

The best thing about the NBA is that one player can completely turn around a franchise.

Similarly, the worst thing about the NBA is that getting one of these players is almost impossible.

Not only do you have to get the first pick in the draft, which is determined through a bingo-type weighted lottery system where the number of ping-pong balls for a given team is inversely related to their total wins, you have to hope that a franchise player is available and that your GM isn't too much of a f***tard to draft them. (Please excuse my French, but if you pass up Chris Paul for Andrew Bogut there's no other word for you. In fact, even that might be too kind.) Consequently, a large number of NBA teams toil in the hopelessness of NBA purgatory: too good to get a decent draft pick, not good enough to compete for a title.

Last season, my beloved Bulls found themselves in this hopeless quagmire and I had no hope that they would extricate themselves from this hopeless cycle any time soon. Two days after my daughter was born, that all changed.

I sat in the recovery room with my wife and two day old daughter watching ESPN when the draft lottery came on. (FYI - A newborn wants only to eat, sleep and be held. Coincidentally, all three of these things are easily accomplished while sitting on a couch watching sports. Babies: more useful then you'd think...) I rubbed my baby's head for good luck and whispered a prayer to God. "God, if you let the Bulls win the lottery, I'll consider letting her date before the age of 35. Your move."

The Bulls were slated to get the 9th pick in the draft and had only had a 1.7% chance of one of their ping pong balls emerging from the lottery, so I resigned myself to disappointment and tried to get excited about the Bulls inevitable pick of Brook Lopez. (In my opinion, it's never good when your NBA Power Forward's name sounds like it should belong to a female beach volleyball player.) But, when David Stern opened the envelope for the ninth pick in the draft, the envelope did not say Chicago Bulls; it said Charlotte Bobcats, meaning the Bulls were assured of a top 3 pick.
I started to get more nervous and excited than I'd been since the day my child was born. I rubbed my baby's head again and said another prayer to God. "God, if you give the Bulls the number one pick, I'll consider letting her date before the ago of 25. Your move."

Suffice to say, God is of the opinion that my daughter should date before graduating from college. (Though we never clarified whether the dates had to be unsupervised...)

Flash forward 6-months, Derrick Rose is setting the NBA on fire, looking like a can't-miss superstar and the Bulls -- and their fans -- have a renewed sense of hope.

And none of it would have been possible without a little help from ping-pong balls (and God's liberal dating policies).

In 2009, I'm thankful for... Bernard Pollard

Bernard Pollard is single-handedly responsible for the craziest, most competitive NFL season in recent memory. When he barreled though the Patriots line, five minutes into the season and exploded Tom Brady's ACL, MCL, PCL (and probably a couple really cool CLs that I don't even know about), he effectively eliminated the NFL's one dominant team and turned the rest of the season into a complete crap shoot. Last year, 13 weeks into the season it was the Patriots and everyone else. This year...

• A staggering 21 of 32 teams have a legitimate shot at the playoffs. (My condolences to the Browns, Bengals, Chargers, Texans, Jaguars, Raiders, Chiefs, Lions, Seahawks, 49ers, and Rams.)
• 9 of the 12 potential NFC playoff teams have a chance to represent their conference in the Super Bowl. (My condolences to the Eagles, Bears, and Falcons.)
• 7 of the 9 potential AFC playoff teams have a chance to represent their conference in the Super Bowl. (My condolences to the Dolphins and Bills)

Essentially, with only 4 weeks left in the season, anything is possible.

And none of it would have been possible without Bernard Pollard.

In 2009, I'm thankful for... The Perfect Excuse

Forget about the unconditional love, the excitement of new experiences, or the inexplicable wonder of each day. The best part about having a baby is that you can use them as the ultimate Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card.

Seriously, now that I have a kid, I have a built-in excuse to watch any sporting event at any time. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'd love to volunteer at the orphanage today, but I have to stay in and watch the Lakers...err, baby." The only difference between watching a game with a baby and watching a game without a baby is that you have to change diapers at half time. A small price to pay for unlimited sports watching privileges.

But using your baby as an excuse to watch sports is only the beginning. The only thing limiting the type of excuse for which you can use your baby is your imagination.

"Sorry, I'm late. You know. The baby."

"Did someone fart? Oh, baby, that's terrible!"

"Sorry for not shaving or showering in over two weeks and wearing a bathing suit and a T-shirt to work. I have a baby."

"Sorry for starting at your breasts. I have a baby."

"I'd like a rum and coke and a shot of Jaeger. Oh, don't worry. The Jaeger is for the baby."

If I end up having another kid, I think I'll just streamline the process and name him "His Fault." "Oh, I'm sorry I ran over your Grandmother. It was His Fault." Now if you excuse me, I need to talk my wife out of signing those divorce papers.

I'm sorry for making an inappropriate joke, honey. You know. The baby...

In 2009, I'm thankful for... Greg Alexander

After three years of Colt Brennan football, I began to take the quarterback position for granted. I grew fat off the lamb of 50 point outings and accustomed to jaw-dropping 30-yard strikes hitting the hands of wide receivers in stried. I had conversations about my disappointment after "sub-par" 300 yard, 3 touchdown performances. I figured that, even after Colt left, someone would come assume the throne as the rightful heir to the mantle of UH Quarterbacks. Hell, even I could throw for 250 and 2 TD's in that offense. Right?

WRONG.

In their first three games against Division I opponents, UH Quarterbacks threw one touchdown pass and 12 interceptions. Compare that to Colt Brennan, who in 2006 threw 13 interceptions THE ENTIRE SEASON. (It also bears mentioning that he accompanied those INTs with an NCAA record 58 touchdowns.)

After watching erstwhile starter Inoke Funaki attempt to set offense football back a century against Boise State, I inquired about the possibility of petitioning for lifetime NCAA eligibility for Colt Breannan. (Seriously, some guys are just born to play college sports and Colt is one of them. Why waste his talent on the bench in Washington when he can resume his rightful place behind center for the UH Warriors for the next 20 years. Similarly, the NCAA needs to grant lifetime eligibility to Tyler Hansborough. I refuse to sit idly by while he becomes our generations Christian Laettner.)

I told myself that the offense was simply undergoing growing pains following the departure of June Jones.

I discussed spicing up the game with my friends by creating a drinking game that involved drinking every time a UH quarterback missed a wide receiver by five feet, but we abandoned this plan after agreeing it would lead to almost certain death.

I did anything I could to make UH football watchable, but nothing worked.

Nothing, that is, until Greg "I-don't-care-that-you're-not-really-that-good-you-look-like-a-combination-of-Payton-Manning-and-Jesus-compared-to-the-other-quarterbacks" Alexander took over. After taking over the starting job in Game 8, Alexander did not throw an interception until the 4th quarter of Game 12. For the more mathematically inclined JBors, that is a 2000% decrease in the number of interceptions thrown in comparison to his predecessors. For those of you not so mathematically inclined, that's a good thing.

He may not be perfect. He may not have a laser rocket arm. He may not be Colt Brennan. Hell, he may not even be Timmy Chang. But Greg Alexander can throw a football down field and occasionally have it caught by other players, most of whom play for our team and for that, I am thankful.

Trust me. If you watched the first half of the University of Hawaii's season, you'd be thankful too.

In 2009, I'm thankful for... Iowa Football

Two years in a row, college football fans watched a Big Ten team embarrass themselves in the National Title Game, both times rendering the contest virtually unwatchable. This year, that scenario threatened to occur for a third straight year as Penn State marched toward an unbeaten season.

Even though Penn State often struggled against mediocre competition and did not have a single signature non-conference win on their schedule -- No, beating Oregon State does not qualify as a "signature win" no matter what USC fans tell you. You lose to Stanford, I stop taking you seriously. End of story. -- the feel-good story of iconic coach Joe Paterno's return to prominence made them a virtual lock for the title game if they finished the season undefeated. After they narrowly edge perennial Big Ten powerhouse Ohio State, only Iowa stood in between them and a date with destiny.

Truth be told, I already had a soft spot in my heart for the Hawkeyes because both my parents graduated from the University of Iowa. Even still, heading into the match-up with Penn State, I put the Hawkeyes chances of victory somewhere between the possibility of peace in the Middle East and the likelihood that Catherine Zeta-Jones will one day return my undying affection (I'll let you surmise which one of those is more likely). Iowa has a solid football team -- good defense, strong running game -- but the list of big Iowa football victories is about the same size as the list of Matt LeBlanc's hit movies. Their last marquee game involved a 38-17 drubbing at the hands of USC in the 2003 Orange Bowl. (Note: It should say something that their last marquee game occurred in 2003.)

Yet, there they were. Making an improbable drive, capped off by an unbelievable 3rd and 10 conversion by a Quarterback who didn't assume the starting role until the 6th game of the season. Now, rather than brace for another Big 10 drubbing in the national championship game, college football fans are getting excited for a Alabama/Florida vs. Texas/Oklahoma showdown of the Titans.

And none of it would have been possible without the Iowa Hawkeyes.

In 2009, I'm thankful for... A Beautiful, Happy, Healthy Baby Girl

Nothing that has occurred in my life up to this point could have prepared me for the joy of my little baby smiling at me whenever I walk into a room. I love her so much and wish I could spend every moment of every day with her. I'm thankful for a lot of things to do with sports this year, but none quite compare with how thankful I am for my baby girl.

Happy Holidays Everyone!

Solving the (Sports) Credit Crisis

There's no denying it. We're in the midst of a full blown credit crisis. No, not THAT credit crisis. I'm talking about the sports credit crisis. Millions of fans are crying out for the credit they feel their team so dearly deserves, but the credit market is all dried up. The sub-prime preseason prediction mess has removed any of the credibility from the blogosphere, and now, there's no one left to save the sports world from a brutal recession.

No one, except, of course, me.

I'm here with my own, personal, bailout package, designed to kick-start the sports economy. So look out, Henry Paulsen. Make way, Ben Bernake. The JBorhood is here to save the day.

(Before we get started, a brief aside... You know the best part about a recession? It's once again socially acceptable to drink cheap beer. Now that you can't afford a twelve pack of Anchor Steam, no one makes fun of you for knocking back a sixer of PBR. So, while you're busy watching your 401k spiral out of control and worrying about whether you're going to default on your mortgage, crack open an ice cold Natty Light, Schlitz, Old English, King Cobra, or Milwaukee's Best and reminisce about a simpler time.)

Credit Approved: Tennessee Titans

No, the Tennessee Titans are not a dominant team.

No, they are not in danger of matching the Patriots 16-0 regular season.

No, they have not played a difficult schedule. (Only one team, the Ravens, has a winning record.)

No, they are not a better team then any of the Super Bowl Champions from the past five years.

But, after Tom Brady went down, there are no dominant teams left in the NFL this season and the Titans do one thing -- play defense -- better then any other team does one thing, and this year, that's enough to win it all.

Credit Denied: Dallas Cowboys

I know, I know. Tell you something you don't know. But the fact is, the Cowboys probably have more talent then anyone else in the league and, when Tony Romo returns, people will resume mentioning them as one of the favorites in the NFC. Sadly, the Cowboys show all the signs of a team that looks good in the regular season, but makes too many stupid mistakes to win it all. (Hell, at this point, they make so many mistaked they don't even look good in the regular season.) They'll make the playoffs. They'll make their fans excited again. They might even win their first game. But they'll make a huge mistake (penalty, dropped pass, turnover) when it matters most and, once again, make an early exit from the playoffs.

Credit Approved: Quarterbacks who can throw the football

I'm so conditioned to Rex Grossman's fuck-it-i'm-throwing-deep style of football that the Kyle Orton experience hasn't quite sunk in. I keep waiting for him to throw a brutal, hide-the-women-and-children, seriously-even-I-could've-thrown-that-better interception to lose a game, but it hasn't happened. In fact, he's been so good, I've already started to take him for granted. After the Minnesota game, I talked about the special teams; I talked about good play calling; I talked about the emergence of Greg Olsen; But, I didn't talk about the fact that a Bears quarterback threw for 283 yards, 3 touchdowns (For the record, I'm counting Desmond Clark's fumble in the end zone a TD.) and directed an offense that scored 49-FUCKING-POINTS. (I apologize for swearing twice in such rapid succession, however, when the Bears score more then 30 points in a game, they're no longer just points, they're FUCKING POINTS. )

Credit Denied: Quarterbacks who can't throw the football

If I have to sit through another four quarters of Inoke Funaki and Tyler Graunke competing to see who can throw the more brutal interception, I might set myself on fire. In fact, the only thing worse then watching Funake play quarterback is listening to the local media defend his quarterback play. I get it. UH beat Fresno State. That was awesome. But if your best day throwing the football involved 224 yards and a 53% completion percentage, you might want to find a new position, ya dig?

Credit Approved: Derrick Rose

I'm probably guilty of being a Chicago homer on this one, however, Derrick Rose has instantly made the Bulls must-see-TV. He's freakishly quick, has an unbelieveable knack for finding a player streaking to the baset for an alley-oop, and is virtually unguardable on the fast break. Before the season started, I kept telling myself, "Remember, he's just a rookie. Remember, he's just a rookie." Now, I'm talking about having another kid so I can name it Derrick or Rose. (Excuse me, I need to stop my wife from signing divorce papers.)

Credit Denied: Greg Oden

Greg Oden is the Sam Bowie to Kevin Durant's Michael Jordan. (Settle down, Bulls fans. There's only one MJ, but saying that Oden is the Kwame Brown to Durant's Pau Gasol just doesn't have the same ring to it.)

Credit Approved: Los Angeles Lakers

They have the best player in basketball, the best coach in basketball, a healthy Andrew Bynum, a full year of Pau Gasol, they go two deep at every position, and every player looks like they spent the entire offseason worrying that Kobe would drive to their house and stab them if they didn't shoot 5,000 free throws every day. Plus, Vladamir Radmonavic finally realied that he'd look like a Russian mafia member rather then Mr. Bean if he shaved his head. That's gotta be worth at least five points a game.

Credit Denied: Boston Celtics

Take your shots now (while you still can), but the Celtics will NOT, under any circumstances, repeat as NBA champions. They might still be the best team in the East, though Cleveland is coming awfully close, they'll most likely be back in the Finals, however, due to one overlooked reason, they are no longer the best team in the NBA.

The reason?

No James Posey.

(If you stop laughing for a second, I'll explain.)

Last year, James Posey provided the extra oomph the Celtics needed to get over the hump. He was the best permitter defender for the best defensive team in the league. He prevented guys like LeBron and Kobe from getting into the lane and allowed Kevin Garnett to dominate the middle. Without him, the Celtics defense will be good, but not great. When you're watching them play and you notice something missing from their defensive intensity and it seems like they can't lock teams down like they could last year, just remember what the nice man from the JBorhood told you.

Credit Approved: New Orleans Hornets, Houston Rockets

Which is the perfect segue to my next point: Say hello to the two new elite teams in the NBA. The Hornets and Rockets took great teams and added elite permiter defenders (James Posey in New Orleans, Ron Artest in Houston) that can rebound, score when needed and, most importantly, guard three to four positions and lock down the opposing team's best player. When you're watching the Hornets and Rockets play and you notice something different about them and it seems like they have an amazing knack for locking down close games, just remember what the nice man from the JBorhood told you.

Credit Denied: Phoenix Suns, Dallas Mavericks, San Antonio Spurs

You can't have up, without down. Can't have black without white. Can't have Thursday without hard-core porn. (Oh, crap. How'd that slip through my internal monologue?) And you can't have new elite teams unless the old elite teams lose a step. So, even though the Suns, Mavs, and Spurs will all play quality basketball, none will seriously contend for an NBA title. They're all a year old and a step slow.

Credit Approved: Philadelphia Phillies

No, the Phillies do not need any credit. They've got so much credit they don't know what to do with it. Truth is, I included the Phillies because I have a bone to pick with them. Well, not them, but their media coverage. Specifically, the post World Series the headline: Worth the Wait.

Worth the Wait? The Phillies won a title 20 years ago. That's not a wait, it's a brief interlude. The Red Sox waited 85 years to win a title. The White Sox waited 87. Hell, the Cubs haven't won a title in over 100 years. There are 99 year old people who WEREN'T EVEN ALIVE when the Cubs last won a World Series. So, sorry, Philadelphia. I don't mean to rain on your parade, but let's tone down the poor me stuff, ok?

Credit Approved: Tampa Bay Rays

I know, I know. They lost.

But that doesn't change the fact that the doormat of Major League baseball won the toughest division in baseball, went toe-to-toe with the previous year's World Series champion Red Sox in the playoffs, and became the first team in Major League Baseball history to go from last place to the World Series in the span of one year. Even though they didn't win, they're still loaded with young talent and not scheduled to lose a key member of their team for the next few years. Whether Yankees or Red Sox fans like it or not, the Rays are here to stay.

Credit Denied: Chicago Cubs

Some things just speak for themselves...