What Jersey Shore taught me about UH Hoops

I watched my first episode of MTV's Jersey Shore on Monday.

Oh. My. Lord.

I'd often heard the show discussed. I had a vague familiarity with the various characters. I thought I knew what to expect.

I did not.

I was under the mistaken impression that Jersey Shore was a TV show when, in actuality, it is a human science experiment, like Bio Sphere sans the Sphere. It answers the question, "What happens when you take eight self-absorbed, image obsessed, testosterone fueled (that includes the women) alcoholics with liberal attitudes towards performance enhancing drugs, drop them in a house together in the epicenter of misogynist hedonism and provide them unlimited access to alcohol?"

The significance of the results is lost in translation. You have to actually sit down and experience Jersey Shore to understand the unbelievable amount of bizarre humanity packed into one sixty minute dumpster fire of hyper-reality.

Every episode delivers a staggering number of cultural insights that have to be seen to be believed.

...like the importance of the fist pump and how, when properly executed, it can take a party to new heights.

...or that you can buy hair gel by the pallet.

...that with a hot tub, charisma, nice abs and enough alcohol, you can achieve anything.

...that sausage and peppers is correctly pronounced "sah-sedge and peh-pas".

...that performance enhancing drugs aren't exclusively for men anymore.

...what a Snooki is and its incredible ability to create chaos in the midst of calm.

...that my clothes need approximately 247 percent more glitter

...and that the eventual downfall of civilization is less eventual than I thought.

If your level of pop culture naivety has sufficiently shielded you from this reality television show / cultural phenomenon, I cannot adequately describe the magnitude of exaggerated humanity on display in Jersey Shore. You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you and you certainly wouldn't understand the subtle beauty of it. Which is the exact same thought I had at last Saturday's University of Hawaii men's basketball game.

The current collection of UH men's basketball player's aren't just a team, they're a phenomenon. You have to see them in person to understand how good they are and, more importantly, how good they will be. UH has had many better teams, but they haven't had a collection of young exciting talent like this since Bruce O'Neil and Rick Patino were paying players in the 70's.

They're still raw, figuring out how to play together. But in the harmonious moments - which are becoming more and more frequent - when everything clicks...

Oh. My. Lord.

They're not just good, they're scary. Despite their solid, if unspectacular 18-10 record, and current fourth place standing in the Western Athletic Conference, the Rainbows are the team no one wants a piece of in the WAC Tournament time. They have more upside than anyone outside of the 24-3 marvelous Mormons from Utah State whom, might I add, want nothing to do with a UH team that had them on the ropes in a double overtime thriller.

The UH team is more than the sum of their parts but, because of the youth of both players and coaching staff, much like Jersey Shore, the significance of the results is lost in translation. You have to actually sit down and experience this UH Hoops team to understand the unbelievable amount of talent packed into two twenty minute halves of salivating potential.

Every game delivers a staggering number of magnificent moments that have to be seen to be believed.

... Miah's blazing speed and his uncanny ability to walk the line between high intensity and out of control.

... Bill Amis's truly sneaky athleticism. He is the quickest, slow guy ever.

... Zane's ability to rain points from the sky (and his startling resemblance to the love child of my little brother and Gumby).

... the silky smoothness of Bo Barnes stroke. It's the Jiffy Peanut Butter of three point shots.

... Jostin Thomas's incredible ability to create chaos in the midst of calm. (He is, without a doubt, Snooki in this extended Jersey Shore metaphor.)

... that the eventual first NCAA tournament victory is closer than I thought.

Sadly, unless UH can secure another home game in one of the random post-season tournaments (The CBI? The CIT? Really? Are these real tournaments or is everyone just messing with me?) UH fans won't have another opportunity to watch the team in person until next season. And that's a shame. This team is a few pieces and a couple years away from making the leap from sports team to local cultural phenomenon. Colt Brennan in high tops.

Many have started to catch on. The Saturday Stan Sherrif crowd was rocking more than they have since Carl English laced up his shoes. When Zane Johnson hit a no-he-didn't NBA three from the top of the key in the second half, the decibal level in the gym was about as loud as the sum total of the noise from the Bob Nash era. The line for Dippin' Dots was over 50 people deep at half time. (Normally, I'm not a big Dippin' Dots guy. If Dippin' Dots really is the ice cream of the future I shudder to think about the dystopian hell hole we've let the world become. That said, when your two year-old daughter likes Dippin' Dots, you like Dippin' Dots. Luckily, I used my highly tuned Daddy-jedi skills to convince her Dora the Explorer prefers Hagen-Daaz to the Dots. If the line for ice cream bars is long at the next game I might be screwed.)

But it's not enough. It's not the 10,000+ sell out crowds that packed the Stan for AC and Alika. It's not the level of excitement deserved by the most exciting UH team in recent history, and maybe ever.

Make no mistake, much like MTV did with Jersey Shore, Gib Arnold is creating a phenomenon. So this Tuesday, when the Rainbows take the floor for what could be the last time this season, cancel all your plans and get down to the Stan Sheriff Center to watch, nay, experience Gib Arnold and the new UH hoops phenomenon. Because, unlike Jersey Shore, you can't watch old episodes on Hulu.

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.

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

The Definitive 2010 NBA Playoff Preview

Want to know who's going to win the 2010 NBA Championship? Go turn on Sportscenter.

Want to know what the 2010 playoffs mean for LeBron's legacy, debate Kobe's place in history, learn why the Boston Celtics are like Happy Gilmore's Mom, and find out what to do if you find yourself looking for a beer at 3 am in Oklahoma City?

Then sit back, relax, kick up your heels, and enjoy the JBorhood NBA Playoff Preview Podcast.

JBorhood Podcast - NBA Playoff Preview - 04/15/2010

JBorhood Podcast (3/31/2010): NCAA Revisited

Matt Kolsky, Mike Oppenheim and I sat down to recap our NCAA Tournament picks, figure out what Mike was too drunk or not nearly drunk enough when he picked Georgetown to win it all, debate whether a Butler National Championship would be the greatest mid-major sporting accomplishment in the last 25 years, and break down why people hate Duke.

JBorhood Podcast - NCAA Revisited - 03/31/2010

JBorhood Podcast (3/17/2010): NCAA Tournament Preview

Resident JBorhood basketball guru Matt Kolsky, sports intellectual and podcast virgin Mike Oppenheim and myself preview the NCAA Tournament and break down our picks for the Jimmy.

JBorhood Podcast - NCAA Tournament Preview - 03/17/2010

The Jimmy First Half Recap - 2010

For 28 years, I followed the same, simple, successful formula for filling out my NCAA tournament bracket.

• Pick the two best teams on either side of the bracket to meet in the National Title Game
• Pick one or two underrated #2-#4 seeds to upset the favorite in their bracket and make it to the Final Four
• Pick a couple mid-majors with the right combination of talent, heart, coaching, and senior leadership to make it to the Sweet 16
• When in doubt, pick the teams with the best pro prospects
• Most importantly: Follow your heart, not your head

This formula helped me and my Dad win his company NCAA Pool in 1992 when the Fab Five lead Michigan on an improbable run to the Championship Game. It helped me finish fourth in The Jimmy in 2007 and third, with the most overall correct picks, in 2008.

But, then 2009 happened.

Scottie Reynolds's full court layup with one second remaining to upset Pitt -- my national championship pick -- happened.

North Carolina -- everyone else's National Championship pick -- happened.

A 16th place finish out of 20 -- which includes a bracket that picked Morehead State to make it to the Final Four and one that selected the Akron Zips to win the National Title -- happened.

Broken, lost, and confused, I decided it was time for a change. Twenty eight years of informal, observational, accumulated knowledge had taken me as far as it could. I needed a secret weapon.

So, I turned to the one source I swore I'd never use. The antithesis of the serendipitous unpredictability of March Madness: Computer Rankings.

I found brackets based on the statistical probabilities of the NCAA Tournament outcomes as predicted by the two most respected public NCAA basketball metrics, the Saragrin Ratings (http://www.wagesofwins.com/Sagarin10.htm) and Ken Pomeroy's Pythagorean Ratings (http://www.wagesofwins.com/Pomeroy10.htm), and used those as a guide to fill out my own bracket. It pained me to knock out Ohio State, my sentimental favorite; It killed me to pencil Duke into the Championship game; It felt silly to knock out Kentucky before the Final Four because of their plethora of NBA ready bodies; But, I put my own misgivings on hold. I figured the computers knew best.

Newsflash: They don't.

Georgetown? Gone.

Pittsburgh? Gone.

Villanova? Gone.

Kansas? Gone.

My bracket? On life support.

Meanwhile, my two sentimental favorites (Remember Rule #5?), Ohio State and Kentucky, are the prohibitive favorites to meet in the National Title Game. The one year I decide to mix it up and play it safe instead of following my gut instinct, Madness ensues. How fitting.

To be fair, I should have known better. I just watched my favorite baseball team, the Chicago Cubs, obliterate three years of positive momentum and throw a hand grenade on a team that won 97 games by signing notorious sociopath Milton Bradley to a longterm deal in an attempt to "shake things up". At least now, I have a better sense of what led the Cubs to make their fatal mistake; I know how the desperation of continual loss can impede your judgement and am all too familiar with the consequences.

Lesson learned. From now on, I stick with what works. I'll dance with the one that brought me. Even if it means the occasional brush with disaster, I'm going to keep following my hear over my head, rooting for the little guy, and trusting my gut.

Which, of course, means that next year someone will use the Saragrin or Pythagorean Ratings next year and win the Jimmy.

---

Without further ado, let's hand out the Jimmy First Half Awards!

DVD Rewinder Award for most spectacular failure: pitt pitt pitt (pitt) pitt (Mike)

A mere 12 hours after the tip-off of the NCAA Tournament, Mike's championship pick, the Georgetown Hoyas, was eliminated from the tournament. This set a record for the fastest a title game pick has ever been eliminated from the tournament, which is incredible, considering we've had participants (well, participant, ahem, Jenn) pick the Akron Zips and the Sienna Saints to cut down the nets.

Hey, if you're going to go out, might as well go out big.

[Author's Note: Yes, the DVD Rewinder is real. http://www.dvdrewinder.com/]

Keyser Soze Award for Most Swift and Bitter Revenge: pitt pitt pitt (pitt) pitt (Mike)

Less than 48 hours after his title hopes were dashed by Georgetown's early exit, I imagine Mike got no small amount of satisfaction from watching 13 of the 24 brackets lose their title game pick when Northern Iowa defeated Kansas.

Hey, misery loves company.

Dare to be different Award: The Jimmy (Trenton), Hayes (Hayes), your po po poker face (Eric), finehungcanibals (Uri)

Trenton, Hayes, Eric, and Uri all had a little gumption, a little courage, a little chutzpah, when they filled out their brackets and they were thusly rewarded. When Northern Iowa shocked the world (well, my world, at least) and knocked out Kansas they also knocked out the championship matchup for over half the participants in The Jimmy.

But, while everyone else blithely put Kansas in the title game, these brave souls dared to fill-in teams like Syracuse, West Virginia, Baylor, and Ohio State and are the only four remaining players with their title game still intact after the Sweet 16.

Fortune, indeed, favors the bold.

[Author's Note: After the initial round of Sweet 16 games, it appears that only Uri with his (seemingly) bizarre pick of Kansas St. vs. Baylor in the Finals still has both his title game participants still alive. Bravo, Uri. Bravo.]


Lloyd Christmas "So you're saying there's a chance" Award: Almighty J (Justin)

I can still win. (Barely)

If Ohio State beats Syracuse, after Syracuse beats Xavier -- who themselves defeated Kansas State -- and then wins the National Title Game over Duke, who beat West Virginia following West Virginia's victory over Kentucky after they after beat St. Mary's, following St. Mary's rousing upset of Baylor…

… then I win. I'm not saying it's likely, but I'm saying there's a chance!



[Author's Note: In fitting fashion, this opportunity never got off the ground with Syracuse losing the first game of the day on Thursday. Stupid computer rankings...]


Biggest semi-related, seemingly innocuous annoyance: My phone's predictive text function auto-completing Duke to "Duke's"

Every time I tried to send a text message about the Duke Blue Devils, my phone started referring to them as the Blue Devils who belonged to Duke. This happened 15 times before I got gave up and started calling them by their official name: The Entitled-Pansy-Choke-Artists.

[Author's Note: Yes, that was a clever slight of hand to distract you from the fact that I picked Duke to make it to the title game.]

Trend that needs to end now: Picking all #1 seeds in the Final Four

Following the relatively upset free past two tournaments, highlighted by all number one seeds making it to the Final Four in 2008, a quarter of the entrants (Dad, Mom, Deanna, Nick, Pete, and Aaron) picked every number one seed to make it to the Final Four this year. Luckily, the Basketball Gods smote on their brackets by eliminating Kansas [Author's Note: and later Syracuse in the Sweet 16], but this brazen conformity and lack of imagination or insight, flies in the face of NCAA Tournament.

It's March Madness, not March Lack-of-any-dicernible-melodrama.

I will similarly mock any future participants who show such limited courage and imagination into their Final Four. Consider yourself warned.

(Of course, now that I say that, I'm sure we'll have more Four #1 seed Final Four's than ever next year. Long live the JBorhood.)

Best off-the-wall pick that had a bizarro chance to succeed: Forgive me I'm a Brit (Neal) picking Murray State to go to the Final Four

If you took a quick glance at Neal's bracket, you probably wouldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Kansas over Kentucky in the Finals. Baylor upsetting Duke to make it to the Final Four. And then there was the West Region.

Neal had the Murray State Racers (seriously? The Racers? I had them losing in the first round just on principal.) knocking off #4 Vanderbilt, #5 Butler, #1 Syracuse, and #10 BYU in succession to represent the West in the Final Four against Kansas. Wow.

Because of Neal's gonzo pick, I paid special attention to the Murray State, Vanderbilt game. Murray State didn't stand a chance, right? But then they got a lead. Then they took the lead into half time. Then they extended the lead in the second half, leading 44-36. As Vanderbilt battled back, I started rooting for Murray State, if only to keep Neal's ballsy upset pick alive.

Unfortunately, Vanderbilt took control down the stretch and hit a pair of free throws to take a 65-64 lead with only 4.5 seconds left. But, Murray State refused to lose. Coach Billy Kennedy asked point guard Issac Miles to make a play and Miles found forward Danero Thomas open at the top of the key, who fakes his man, drove into the key and calmly knocked down a 15-footer at the buzzer to send the Racers into the second round.

Sadly, Neal's (and the Racers') dream died there as Murray State lost a two point heartbreaker to fifth-seeded Butler.

Regardless, Neal earned a hearty JBorhood salute for having the foresight (and the balls) to bet it all on Murray State.

The Mitch D'Olier memorial Award for contestant that enters the tournament, but forgets to fill out their entire bracket: MEGALODON! (Jordan D'Olier)

Taking a page from my Dad, who forgot to fill out his Final Four and Championship picks in 2008, my brother Jordan forgot to complete his bracket. And by complete, I mean fill out any picks whatsoever. His bracket lives on in name only, which is fitting, because much like Megalodon, Jordan's picks don't exist.

As a result of winning, Jordan becomes the Award's new namesake, absolving my Dad of further embarrassment. Until someone relieves him of the title, the award for "contestant who enter the tournament, but forgets to fill out their entire bracket" will be called the Jordan D'Olier Memorial Award.

Congratulations, Jordan.
Shocking fact of the 2010 NCAA Tournament: The mid-majors are every bit as good as big guys

We've had our fair share of mid-major teams make waves in the NCAA Tournament. From Gonzaga to George Mason, numerous mid-major schools proved they could hang with the big boys on the big stage. But, most of those squads relied on some combination of luck, guile, and chemistry to overcome a deficit of talent. Not anymore.

I don't know if it's a down year for Big Conferences or whether there's simply a glut of talent in Mid-Major schools right now, but there were a large number of "Cinderellas" who were every bit as athletic and talented as their favored counterpart. Robert Morris wasn't overwhelmed by Villanova's speed; Murray State was arguably better than Vanderbilt; Old Dominion was flat out better than Notre Dame. These schools weren't lucky to advance. They simply outplayed their more celebrated rival.

I sincerely hope this is a sign of things to come.

Most aptly named bracket Award - no upsets ever (Aaron)

I wanted to give the award to Dawn, whose bracket name, The Madness, accurately describes her pick of #16 seed Lehigh over Kansas, but when the Jayhawks fell to Northern Iowa in Round 2, it became impossible to ignore the fact that there might be a method behind The Madness. Furthermore, it is literally impossible to have a name that more accurately describes one's picks then Aaron's choice of no upsets ever, considering he picked no upsets.

Unfortunately for Aaron, the basketball Gods frowned upon his strategy and gave us the most unpredictable, upset-filled tournament in recent memory. (On a related note, this also qualified Aaron for the "You Get What You Deserve You Non-Upset Picking S.O.B." Award.)


The Shaun Holaday Memorial Award for bracket with the best chance to win that has no business winning: Hezballers (Shaun Holaday)

In 2008, Shaun won the tournament despite picking the least number of games correctly (excluding participants who did not realize the number next to teams indicated their rankings or picked Sienna to win it all because "Sienna is the greatest city in Tuscany"), because he was the only contestant who correctly picked Kansas to win it all and the weighted scoring system gives an overwhelmingly unfair number of points for picking the National Champion. (On a related note, no, I'm not still bitter that I finished third despite picking the most number of correct games. Moving on...)

Once again, Shaun found himself at the bottom of the pool after the Sweet 16 (leading only MEGALADON!, if only slightly), yet still in position to take home a second Jimmy Title because of his unconventional pick of West Virginia to win it all. If UWV wins, Shaun wins. Again.

(On a related note, I lied about not still being bitter.)

Team I really wish that I watched before rushing to judgement about: Kentucky

Both computer rankings picked Kentucky to lose to Wisconsin in the Sweet 16. All the talking heads said they were too young to go all the way. So, I ignored my better judgement and picked them to bow out to West Virginia in the Elite Eight.

Then I actually watched them play.

Wow.

What an unfathomably talented team. They have two of the top three NBA Draft picks, both of whom have NBA ready bodies. They have two to three other players who'll get significant NBA minutes. They go about 12 deep. They have more front court depth than the Chicago Bulls.

At this point, I don't wonder if they'll win it all. I wonder whether anyone will lose by less than ten.

Stupid computer rankings.


Easiest path to victory Award: Gremlins (Brit)

Brit is currently in first place and one of only two people who picked Duke to win it all. Simply put, if Duke wins three more games, Brit wins the Jimmy.

Fortunately for the rest of us, we don't have to deal with the taste of vomit in our mouths from selecting Duke to win a National Championship.

Easiest path to victory that won't make the winner vomit in their mouth Award: your po po ker face (Eric)

If Kentucky wins, Eric wins. Simple. Easy. Non-vomit inducing.


Remaining Game(s) that everyone is watching: Kentucky/WVU vs Duke/Baylor

Everyone -- well, everyone besides Uri (finehungcannibals) and Eric (your po po ker face) -- had either Kansas or Ohio State in the Championship Game. Now that both bowed out early, the only drama left to unfold is whether Kentucky, West Virginia, Duke or Baylor will come out of the right side of the bracket.

As luck would have it, different participants picked each school to win meaning the winner of the Jimmy hangs in the balance.

Will West Virginia, Bob Huggins, and Bob Huggins's track suit lead West Virginia and Shaun to his second improbable Jimmy Title?

Will Baylor shock the world and guide Uri to a victory in his inaugural Jimmy campagin?

Will Kentucky continue their murderous rampage, vaulting Eric from the depths of the standings to a comeback victory?

Or will Duke piss off everyone except for Charles and cut down the nets?

We'll have to wait and see.

Good luck in the second half, everyone!

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.

Return of the Jimmy - 2009

Aloha Friends and JBors,

The JBorhood March Madness Extravaganza (aka the J.M.M.E or "The Jimmy", as we few, we happy few, like to call it) is back! It's your chance to prove, once and for all (for the third year in a row), that pluck, verve, and luck, will triumph over knowledge, experience, an understanding of the basic rules of basketball, extrodinary good looks, and an amazing set of dimples every time.

As always, the winner wins the right to select the topic for a JBorhood article.

So stop sitting back, stop relaxing, and get off your lazy behind and fill out your bracket.

You can access the madness here: http://tournament.fantasysports.yahoo.com/t1/register/joinprivategroup_assign_team?GID=147075&P=jborhood

The password is: jborhood

FYI: After signing up, YOU HAVE TO FILL OUT YOUR BRACKET. Yes, Dad, your ENTIRE bracket. Yahoo does a lot of things, but it's still lagging behind on the technological adoption of telepathic computer systems.

If you have any questions, email me at jborhood@gmail.com. Otherwise, LET THE MADNESS BEGIN!!!

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!

A 5-Step Program for UH Basketball

What I want to do on Monday night at 11 pm generally starts and ends with my couch, polishing off a second bottle of Tempranillo – almost as fun to say as it is to drink – and discussing the glorious, unintentional comedy of the latest episode of Scream Queens on VH1 with the Editor-in-Chief. (That’s right. I watch Scream Queens. Religiously. In fact, I also watch Rock of Love Charm School and, most shamefully, Paris Hilton’s My New BFF on a weekly basis. What can I say? I’m a sucker for bikini clad bombshells in contrived melodramatic situations. Moving on…). What this list does not include is attending a UH Basketball game.

Yet, there I was, walking into the Stan Sheriff Center on Monday night along with a motley crew of college students, drunks, stoners, and the unemployed to support a 0-2 Rainbow basketball team in a game scheduled to end sometime after last call at Femme Nu. Call me crazy, but I’m of the opinion that after attending a basketball game I should be able to get to bed before my buddies who went to a strip club. But I digress…

Upon entering the Arena, I met up with a few friends and headed for the concession stands to partake in one of the finer aspects of UH Basketball games: $7.50, 32 ounce beers and Gordon Biersch garlic fries. As we circled the Arena, we noticed a troubling development:

No beer. No garlic fries.

I understand that late night driving and 32 ounce beers probably don’t mesh well, however, college basketball without an embarrassingly large malt beverage is positively un-American. I started to go through the five stages of grief.

Denial – This can’t be happening. There must be beer here somewhere.

Anger – Why didn’t they announce they weren’t serving beer? This is ridiculous!

Bargaining – I wonder if I could pay someone to open up the beer garden…

Depression – This game is going to suck, maybe we should just go home.

Acceptance - … (Let’s just say that some things are beyond acceptance.)

As I struggled to figure out a way to distill Coca-Cola into a liquor, I heard the words every sports fan dreams about…

Anna Kournikova is in your hot-tub?

Even better. Well, not better, but slightly more realistic.

The Cubs won the World Series?

I said realistic.

[Your Name], please come to the front of the Arena to claim your prize?

Bingo.

When I finally arrived, out of breath, at the front of the Arena, an usher informed me that I had won four courtside seats to the game. That’s right, four courtside seats to the nationally televised game. Not only did my buddies and I have front row seats to an amazing basketball game – UH won in an overtime thriller – we showed up on ESPN. As I attempted to call everyone I thought wouldn’t terminate our friendship for waking them up, I received the coolest text message ever from my wife midway through the first quarter:

Did you just catch a ball? I think I saw you!

I always dreamed about appearing on ESPN. I never thought it would happen quite like that.

(The best place to see me is at the :20 mark. I’m the devastatingly handsome guy sitting behind the Bank of Hawaii sign wearing a green and white striped shirt. Make sure to watch the video in High Quality, otherwise you can’t tell if it’s me or a splotch of vomit on the camera lens. God bless You Tube.)



It’s one thing to watch a basketball game on TV.

It’s another thing to watch a basketball game live.

It’s a completely different experience altogether to watch a basketball game courtside. On TV, the players look big. In person, they look huge. Courtside? Downright terrifying.

Nothing makes you feel quite as small as a 6’ 7”, 235 pound man diving out of bounds and crashing into a table right in front of you. I’m 90% sure that I could wear Brandon Adams’s shoe as a hat.

It was truly an amazing experience and it reminded me about all the reasons why I love college basketball. It also reminded me that UH has a long way to go before it can join the ranks of the elite college basketball programs in the country. But there is hope. Not long ago crowds routinely filled the Stan Sheriff Center and you got a sense of that passion on Monday night.

After attending the game, I have a renewed faith that we can rekindle the magic of UH Basketball and get the crowds to return. We just need to make a few adjustments.

Remember That We Wear Green and White

Forget “White Out” night.

I don’t want to hear about “Green Out” night.

Don’t even get me started about “Black Out” night. (It’s a basketball game, not a wake.)

Without being prompted, UH fans should attend games wearing some combination of green and white. Not black, not blue, not their favorite Tommy Bahama Aloha shirt. Green and white.

If you watch any of the approximately 9,632 basketball games on ESPN every Saturday, you’ll notice that the fans all wear the same color or colors. You’ll also notice, not coincidentally, that the team wears the same color.

It’s not complicated.

The UH Basketball team wears green and white. You wear green and white. Ok? Do you really need a marketing department to help you pick out a matching color scheme?

Once we get everyone wearing green and white, we can work on getting them to keep standing after tip-off until the team scores. Baby steps.

Increase Student Attendance

Even though only 2000 people showed up for the game, the crowd was loud, cheered constantly, and maintained a great energy from tip-off to the end of overtime. A typical UH game is about as lively as a Kenny G concert and Monday’s game was more like a Miley Cyrus show. Not quite the AC/DC atmosphere we need, but a step in the right direction.

The improved atmosphere was largely due to the increased number of students that attended the game. Usually, the student section consists of about 30 kids sequestered under the visitor’s basket. On Monday, there were well over 200 students at the game and, due to the open seating format, they were spread out all over the arena. They were loud, they were rowdy, and they gave the Rainbows a noticeable boost.

In order to truly grow the program and foster the high energy college atmosphere that makes college basketball so special, UH needs to do everything in its power to make games more accessible to students. I understand this is a complex issue that includes a the construction of new dorms, vast improvements of on-campus life, and the transition from a commuter school to one with a full fledged dorm life, however, if we ever want UH games to be more than a glorified tea party, the students need to lead the way.

Get Students Closer to the Floor

I know that season ticket holders already occupy the seats.

I know that it means less money for the University up front. (I’d argue that making games more exciting and accessible for students builds a more loyal fan base, more likely to donate to the program in the future, but that’s an argument for another day.)

But there’s no substitute for loud, crazy students, sitting courtside at a college basketball game. Every large college basketball program in the country includes a large student section next to the court. Not sequestered under a basket somewhere, or hidden in the bleachers. Front and center.

UH needs to move all the current season ticket holders from the section directly across from the visitor’s bench, block out the entire section for students, and give the prior season ticket holders first priority for new season tickets. They might complain about being moved at first, but they’ll come around the first time they watch an opposing player break down in tears after the students ride them for an entire game.

Which leads me to my next point…

Improve Heckling

For the last time, yelling “You F***ing Suck!” does not constitute heckling.

It’s not witty, it’s not funny and, most importantly, it doesn’t psyche out the other team. The whole point of heckling is to get into the other team’s head and swearing at them like every other drunk loser they hear night in, night out isn’t going to get it done.

You have to remember, they’ve been playing 40 games a year since they were in high school. They’ve heard almost every conceivable heckle in the book. Many of them far more witty and original then anything you’re going to say. The only way to get under their skin is to catch them off guard. Hit them with something humorous and original.

Heckling is a lot like Marketing. Anyone can do it, and a little creativity goes a long way, but true success requires extensive research. Each week the Manoa Maniacs need to create a heckler cheat sheet and pass them out at the games. These should include each opposing players name, basic facts about them, as well as any embarrassing facts they dug up on the internet. Player A danced ballet in high school. Player B was arrested for marijuana possession. Player C was caught with his pants down in the company of a sheep. You get the picture.

UH fans need to embrace heckling as a true art form. They’re college students. It’s not like they have better things to do then sit up late at night, drink 40s and research the best way to make opposing players cry.

Someone make this happen.

Always Server Beer

I’ll give you a free pass for Monday. Just don’t ever let that happen again, ok?

I’m confident that if UH makes the aforementioned changes, UH Basketball can once again sell out the Stan Sheriff Center and take their program to the next level. But, if all else fails, never underestimate the power of bikini clad bombshells in contrived melodramatic situations.

I’m just saying…

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...

NBA Playoff Prognostication 2008

Before I begin expounding on the minutia of the upcoming NBA playoffs, I need to let you in on my dirty little secret:

I was the shooter on the grassy knoll.

(No, wait. Wrong secret. Let's try that again.)

I don't know anything about the NBA.

That's right. I'm embarrassed to say it, but it's true. Over the years, due to factors I'm still unclear about, my time spent at the office has greatly increased, while my time spent sitting on the couch, drinking beer and watching the NBA has precipitously dropped off. If the battle for my free time was a presidential election, the super delegates would have shifted their allegiance to the candidate endorsing hard work and a strong economy because the pro-couch/beer/basketball candidate no longer had sufficient funds to bribe them. I still have time to catch the occasional game, watch SportsCenter every once in a while and read enough online articles to make a convincing argument for who should win the MVP award -- Chris Paul narrowly edges out KG and Kobe for making Tyson Chandler an offensive force. Seriously, how do you turn a player with teeny woman hands and zero offensive moves into a 12 point per game scorer? This fact alone should guarantee him the award. -- but I simply don't have time to watch enough basketball games to make enlightened observations about the current state of the NBA.

A large part of this has to do with Fantasy Sports. I'm a big proponent of Fantasy Baseball and enjoy the bourgeois appeal of Fantasy Football, but no matter how hard I try, I can't get in to Fantasy Basketball. It just doesn't work for me. In baseball, statistics tell me that Barry Bonds gets on base every other time he steps up to the plate, hits home runs like Ike Turner hit wives and that his defensive range and base stealing abilities have developed inversely proportional to the growth of his cranium. In basketball, statistics tell me that Jason Kidd has a superb assist to turnover ratio, but they can't explain that he gets used more then a beer bong at a frat house when he tries to guard anyone with two functional legs. You can make the same argument about football statistics, but Fantasy Football isn't about statistics; Fantasy Football is what we use to explain to our girlfriends why we have to watch the Seahawks play the Ravens on Thursday Night Football instead of attending her cousins third birthday party ("I really WANT to go, honey, but it's the second week of the season and that's, like, the most important week.").

Since I don't play Fantasy Basketball, I don't spend hours and hours pouring over basketball statistics the way I do football and baseball stats. I can easily rattle off who has the lowest batting average in major league baseball right now -- David Ortiz at a stunning .121 -- who's leading the majors in home runs -- Carlos Pena, Derek Lee and Mike Jacobs are all tied with 6 -- or even who led the NFL in rushing last year, -- Ladanian Tomlinson with 1474 yards -- but I can't, for the life of me, tell you anything about basketball other then LeBron James led the league in scoring with 30 points a game, and only because I heard that on ESPN radio on the drive home.

So take what I say with a grain of salt. In fact take it with a lot of salt. Get out a Margarita glass, line the rim with salt and let me pour my delicious, refreshing and hilariously uninformed thoughts, musings and predictions into it for your enjoyment. Because, let's face it, my predictions can't get any worse.

---

2008 NBA Playoff Prognostication

First Round

Eastern Conference

Celtics over Hawks

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
(My response to: "Will the Hawks win a game in this series?")

Pistons over Sixers

I had to look on Yahoo sports to see who the Pistons were playing in the second round. That's embarrassing. Not for me, for the Sixers. Is there anyone who takes this team seriously? (Ok, anyone who doesn't live in Philadelphia?) Is there anyone who can name a player on the Sixers other then the Andres (Igoudala and Miller)? I'd rather watch the WNBA then watch the Pistons dismantle the Sixers. Check please.

Magic over Raptors

Ummm...really? I'm not sure I could know less about either of these teams. I'll summarize my collective knowledge:

1. The Magic have Dwight Howard
2. The Magic also have JBorhood favorite Hedu Turkoglu, or as my brother likes to call him, "Glu" or "Elmer" (In reference to Elmer's glue and, more importantly, the fact that he just looks like an Elmer.)
3. The Raptors have two players with cool foreign names: Andrea Bargnani and Jose Calderon

That's it. I'm out. In lieu of any insight, I'll go with the superstar. I say Dwight Howard dominates down low and Elmer knocks down some big shots.

GO ELMER!

LeBrons over Wizards

New year, same crappy supporting cast for LeBron James, same end result: LeBron straps the chumps on his back and single handedly wills them to victory. The Wizards are the popular pick this year, since Cleveland struggled down the stretch and the Wizards are finally at full strength, but I don't see what's different about this Washington team then the team that has lost to the LeBrons the past two years in the first round. Sorry Wizards, better luck next year.

Western Conference

Lakers over Nuggets

Whenever I think of Kobe, I'm reminded of the Eminem song, "Kill You".

You don't, want to f*ck with Kobe
(Cause why?)
Cause Kobe, will f*cking kill you

Seriously, Kobe scares me. Nobody does the Michael Jordan I'm-going-to-win-this-game-by-the-sheer-force-of-my-facial-expression better then Kobe. He looks like a man on a mission this year and there's no way he loses to Enver in first round. (By the way, that was not a typo. There's no "D" in Denver.)

Mavericks over Hornets

Speaking of crazy facial expressions, have you seen Dirk Nowitzki play lately? He's reclaimed the sneer he used to propel the Mavericks to the NBA Finals in 2006. Why is the sneer so important? Well, without the sneer, Dirk Nowitzki he looks like David Hasselhoff's sissy oafish brother. With the sneer, he looks like like Karl from Die Hard. If you're a Mavericks fan, which one of those guys would you rather have leading your team?

Now, I fully expect Chris Paul to make a mockery of the defender formerly known as Jason Kidd, but I think that in the end, the sneer will win out.

Suns over Spurs

Has their even been a more exciting first round match-up on paper then Spurs/Suns? Duncan, Ginobli, and Parker vs. Shaq, Amare, and Nash. I am more excited about this series than about any series in the remainder of the playoffs (with the possible exceptions of the Kobe vs. Shaq or Chris Paul vs. Deron Williams potential match-ups in the Western Conference finals). There have been NBA Finals match ups where both teams are worse then either of these two teams, AND THIS IS THE FIRST ROUND!

I have no idea what to make of this series. San Antonio plays the best team basketball in the league, but the new-look-Suns with a revitalized Shaquille O'neal, are a destructive force on offense and on defense. My gut tells me that the Spurs will win like they always do, but my heart desperate wants the Suns to win and vindicate Steve Kerr and his huge balls. Kerr was torn to shreds in the media for months for having the giant swinging cojones to pull of the Shaq trade and nothing short of an NBA title will get people off his back.

Here's to Steve.

Here's to the Shaq.

Here's to the Suns.

And, of course, here's to huge swinging balls.

Jazz over Rockets

Kudos to the Rockets for their 22 game win streak and kudos to Tracy McGrady for his (soon to be) 7 series long playoff losing streak.

Conference Semi-Finals

Eastern Conference

Celtics over LeBrons

As LeBron proved last year, he's good enough to beat most teams all by himself, just not the great teams. I've got bad news for LeBron and Cleveland fans: The Celtics are a great team.

Pistons over Magic

I want to believe that Dwight Howard has the ability to put the Magic on his (admittedly large) back and carry them past the Pistons, ala LeBron James last year. Unfortunately, at this stage in his career, Dwight looks like a great ball player who lacks the killer instinct, more Kevin Garnett than Kobe Bryant. But he's young and maybe he just hasn't had the opportunity to prove me wrong. Here's hoping, because, as a Bulls fan, nothing makes me happier then watching someone wipe the smug, stupid, cocky grins off the faces of Chauncey, Rip and Rasheed.

I hate the Pistons.

Western Conference

Lakers over Jazz

I'm going to conveniently sidestep the fact that I know so little about the Utah Jazz but bring up my biggest grievance with their team: Their name makes no sense! There's no Jazz in Utah. The team just kept the name when they moved from New Oreleans, the birthplace of jazz! If they wanted a Utah appropriate name they should have gone with the Utah Caucasions, the Utah Polygamists or the Utah Salt Lake Aquatic Mammals (look, I understand that no animals except an extreme saliophile, and ceratinly not a mammal, could survive in the harsh climate of the Great Salt Lake, but go with me for comedy's sake).

Until the Jazz relinquish the rightful name of the New Orleans franchise, the JBorhood hereby decrees that they shall never win an NBA title. Say hello to the Curse of the Jazz!

Suns over Mavericks

The Suns are to the Mavs what John McClain is to Karl. Sorry big fellah, but sneer or no sneer, your playoffs end here.

Conference Finals

Celtics over Pistons

Did I mention that I hate the Pistons?

Well, with that in mind, nothing short of a Chicago Bulls run to the Finals could get me this excited about watching an Eastern Conference Finals. Not because I think the games will be exciting, but because I'm excited to watch Kevin Garnett rip Rasheed Wallace's heart out of his chest and eat it at center court. Nothing would please me more then watching the Piston's starters sulk on the bench with towels on their head as they watch the Celtics close out a four game sweep and effectively end the Pistons stranglehold on the Eastern Conference.

Lakers over Suns

Shaq vs. Kobe with a trip to the Finals on the line. Good lord.

I would love for the Suns to win and validate Steve Kerr's moxy, but that would violate my Kobe Rule: When in doubt, pick Kobe. It's that simple. He has the abilty to take over a fourth quarter to such a degree that even my wife, who loves watching basketball with me, but doesn't know Manu Ginobli from Boris Diaw (wait, what am I saying, neither do I), when asked what the Lakers should do on any given possession, will say "Give the ball to Kobe" (In case you doubt this, I just asked her the question and the exact words out of her mouth were "Give the ball to Kobe". Ahhh, I've trained her so well.)

So, sentimentally, I love the Suns, but I can't shake the feeling that 2008 is the year of the favorite. First all #1 seeds make it to the Final Four and now the two best teams in the NBA will go at it in an NBA Finals for the ages.

Get ready for...

NBA Finals

Celtics over Lakers

Yeah, we're gonna party like it's 1989! (Ok, ok, I realize that the Lakers met the Pistons in the '89 Finals, but if I say party like it's 1987 -- the last time the Lakers met the Celtics in the Finals -- then I completely lose the veiled reference to the Prince song. Jeez, you're a tough crowd...)

Anyway, after I spent three paragraphs explaining why it's sheer lunacy to bet against Kobe, I'm going to violate my own rule (meanwhile, my wife is shaking her head at me, saying I should "give the ball to Kobe"). The Lakers are great. Kobe is otherworldly. But the Celtics are the best team to grace the floor of the NBA in 10 years. They won their games by an average of 10.3 points per game, an average that includes the last month of the season when KG, Pierce and Allen all played vastly reduced minutes. That 10.3 points per game differential is higher then all but three teams in the moder era (and all those teams had a little someone named Michael Jordan).

Now, Kobe may go all Michael on us and take over the Finals, but short of a truly Jordanesque performance, the Celtics are too deep, too talented and too driven to be denied. It should be a Finals match up for the ages, but I see future NBA Finals MVP Kevin Garnett finally hoisting the trophy that has eluded him all these years.

(Of course, now that I've written that, it'll probably be a Utah Jazz, Detroit Pistons Finals. But, then again, what do I know?)

A Farewell to Jimmy

As Kenny Rogers said, you gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away and know when to run. I took this information to heart the past weekend and rode my recent string of good luck into Sin City with my brother Jordan and my buddy Shithouse. (Don't look at me. He chose the nickname himself, but that's a story for another day. Let's just say that Kelly Slater had something to do with it.) None of us are big gamblers (read: none of us gamble at all), but because I had done so well in the first half of the Jimmy, I managed to talk them into putting down some money on the NCAA tournament. The way I saw it, whether we won or lost, it would be worth the money to watch the Sweet 16 in Vegas on huge monitors, sitting in comfy leather chairs with hundreds of other fans. So, I flew out to visit my brother in LA and we hopped in his truck, slipped on our sunglasses and headed east on Route 66.

Next stop, Caesars Palace.

On the way to Vegas we discussed the first games of the day: Texas vs. Stanford and Davidson vs. Wisconsin. I had a good feeling about Texas since they were playing in Houston, but I didn't know what to make of the other game. I picked Wisconsin to make it to the Elite Eight in the Jimmy, so my initial inclination was to go with the Badgers, but Jordan, who isn't the world's biggest sports fan, surprised me with his strong opinion. He said, "we HAVE to bet on Davidson." Apparently, on his way out the door, he randomly bumped into his buddy Harris. When Harris heard where we were going he gave Jordan three words of advice: "Bet. On. Davidson." No matter what I said, I couldn't convince Jordan that Davidson would lose. It wasn't happening. So, I decided to let it ride and go with the underdog. Viva Las Vegas.

Since we got a little bit of a late start (I assure you, our hangovers had NOTHING to do with it...) and were arriving after the start of the first games, I phoned Shithouse (it never gets old, does it?), who had arrived in Vegas a day earlier and had him put money on Texas and Davidson to win outright for us. He told us he'd try to get to Caesars early and grab some seats. With nothing left to do, Jordan and I turned on the radio, popped open the bag of beef jerky -- because really, what's a road trip without beef jerky? -- and began the home stretch. Vegas was so close we could taste it (and I must say, Vegas tastes suspiciously like beef jerky...)

As I mentioned earlier, I'm not a big gambler. It's never been my thing. I somewhat enjoy winning money, but I absolutely can't stand losing money. I could win $100 playing blackjack and kick myself the rest of the night for playing one last hand and losing $5. It's not rational. It's just my thing. I hate losing. Needless to say, listening to the first half of the two games on the radio as we sat in traffic heading to Caesars was one of the most agonizing experiences in my life. Texas clung to a thin lead, while Davidson was doing the impossible and keeping up with the heavily favored Badgers. Jordan and I were literally jumping up and down inside the truck, screaming at the top of our lungs, willing our teams to victory and scaring the people who, through their own misfortune, were stopped next to us in traffic. Mercifully, the traffic abated as we neared the casino and flew down the streets of Las Vegas Boulevard. Leaving tire tracks in my wake, I flew into the Caesars Palace parking garage. Jordan and I hit the ground at a full sprint and entered the casino floor.

There's nothing quite like entering a Vegas casino. The combination of the flashing lights, artificial oxygen, profuse amounts of alcohol and extraordinary mix of seedy locals, gawky tourists and impeccably styled high rollers makes it feel more like walking into the set of a bizarre seventies movie then a hotel lobby. The rhythmic clang of the slot machines and twisting maze of video poker machines lull you into a hypnotic trance. The only thing missing is David Bowie walking on the walls singing a creepy love ballad.

Today, however, the casino had a slightly different feel. There was distinct audible hum that hung in the air above the usual swirl of casino noise. The volume rose and fell in a seemingly random, almost organic pattern. As we slipped through the throngs of gamblers towards the sports book, the noise steadily increase in volume until we identified the cause of the commotion: hundreds of cheering people, crowded shoulder to shoulder with all eyes on two huge monitors playing both NCAA tournament games simultaneously while droves of cocktail waitresses mingled among the crowd dispersing alcoholic concoctions of all shapes and sizes (if you ever wanted to watch an NCAA tournament game, sipping on a 48 ounce margarita, you know where to go.). After a ten minute search, we managed to track down Shithouse and his girlfriend, who thrust Bud Lights into our open hands and proudly displayed the tickets for Texas and Davidson, both of which were leading. After exchanging the requisite chest bumps and awkward man-hugs, we searched for a place to sit but the only one open was behind a roped off section and marked VIP. Bolstered by a false sense of confidence from the current Texas and Davidson leads, two Bud Lights, aviator sunglasses and the post-chest-bump-adrenaline, I held open the velour rope for Jordan, Shithouse and his girlfriend and we grabbed a seat in the leather bound luxury of the VIP section. I'm of the school of thought that if you act like you own the place, people tend to assume that you do, so we kicked back in the high rollers lounge and enjoyed the action from the lap of luxury.

I know what you're thinking. Wow, Justin. What a string of luck. You're winning the Jimmy, you win the first two bets you ever placed and you stroll into VIP seating at the world's most famous sports book. What a day. And you'd be right. Only we weren't done yet.

After the first games wrapped up, we decided to place two more bets on Kansas and Memphis to cover the spread. Over the next three hours, we watched Kansas and Memphis roll to 20 and 30 point half time leads respectively and never looked back. Vegas didn't know what hit 'em.

I strode to the sports book counter, winning tickets in hand, with the swagger of Michael Jordan after he nailed the jumper over Byron Russell to win the NBA title. When I got to the front of the line, I slammed the tickets on the counter like Muhammad Ali towering over Sonny Liston. Then, my face took on the cool, collected sneer of Scarface as I gazed upon the grand total of my gambling opus:

$43.75

That's right. I placed four $10 bets. Technically, I placed the bets together with Jordan, so in truth, I placed four $5 bets. Real Bill Gates action. It may not have been a large chunk of change, but we strolled out of Caesars like millionaires. The best part, is that from then on, anytime we bought a drink, ordered food, or tipped our strippers (just kidding, mom), we said "that was the money from the games!" At the end of the night, we must have turned that forty three dollars into three hundred, but it never felt like we paid a dime.

Vivaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Las Vegas!

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. My string of good fortune ran out when North Carolina knocked off Louisville two nights later and I ended up settling for third in the Jimmy, my title dreams deferred. But don't you worry, JBors, I'll be back next year and I'll ride my wave of good luck all the way to the title.

You see, I may have fallen short in the Jimmy, but I made it out of Vegas right when my luck ran dry. Who's lucky now?

See you next year, everyone!

---

2008 Jimmy Final Awards

The Jesus Award: Shaun (WWTCD)

The Jesus award is presented to the participant who saved the Jimmy

I would like to extend a heartfelt debt of gratitude to Shaun Holaday for singlehandedly rescuing the Jimmy from the disastrous prospects of a victory by "autopick". Without Shaun's gutsy selection of Kansas as the eventual champions, the Jimmy would have likely been won by Juan, who selected two upsets (that's right, two) in his entire bracket. Hopefully, future participants will learn a valuable lesson from Shaun's bracket: It's better to be unfathomably lucky, then any good at picking basketball games.

Way to go, Shaun!

The Four Leaf Clover Award: Shaun (WWTCD)

The Four Leaf Clover award is presented to the participant who had a significant tournament run, despite picking the least amount of games right.

When I said "unfathomably lucky", I meant unfathomably lucky. Aside from the two participants who didn't fill out their brackets and the two participants who did not realize that the number next to the teams indicated their relative strength, Shaun picked less correct games then anyone else in the Jimmy. Yes, you heard that correctly. The eventual champion picked less correct games then every other competitive participant. This certainly brings up the question of whether we need to amend the scoring system to give more weight to picking many games correctly versus just picking the champion, however, that does nothing to take away Shaun's victory (tarnish? sure. take away, sorry guys.)

(For the record this has nothing to do with bitterness over finishing third after picking the most games correctly. Noooooooooooooooooooooooo, nothing at all...)

The Bridesmaid Award: Deanna (DZaster)

The Bridesmaid award is presented to the tournament's runner-up.

I suppose I should call this "The Disciple Award", since Deanna would have ended up winning and saving the tournament if Shaun did not complete his miraculous comeback, but either way, I would like to give a far overdue congratulations to Deanna for her impressive tournament finish. In fact, this is the second year in a row that she submitted a nearly identical bracket to my own and ended up beating me because of one game. Next year I'm going to have to randomly change a few games just to throw Deanna off my tracks.

(Deanna, in case you're wondering, I'm picking all the #1 seeds to lose in the first round next year. Trust me...)

The No-Seriously-I'm-not-Bitter Award: Justin (The Almighty J)

The No-Seriously-I'm-not-Bitter-Award is presented to the person who picked the most games correctly, but ultimately lost the pool.

Stupid weighted scoring system...

The Whatever Helps you Sleep at Night Award: Eric (winterFrostGum)

The Whatever Helps you Sleep at Night Award is presented to the participant who avoided finishing in last place due to two people not filling out their brackets, one person not realizing the numbers by teams names indicated their rankings and one person picking Sienna to win the tournament because "Sienna is the greatest city in Tuscany!".

Due in large part to Georgetown's early exit and Clemson's inability to make it out of their first game, Eric wound up selecting only five of the fifteen games in the Midwest region correctly. For the record, this is only one game more then the two participants who did not understand the correlation between a teams seeding and their ability to play basketball. Similarly, this is only five games more then the participants who did not fill out a bracket. However, before I single Eric out, it is important to note that he had serious competition for the award. He managed to narrowly hold off Mike (pitt is it.) and Trenton (UCLA! Fight! Fight! Fight!) by 1 and 2 points respectively to secure the award.

The best part is that I tried to find one game that could have gone a different way and changed the outcome, but I couldn't. They all missed so many games (Clemson over Kansas, Stanford over Texas, Tenn over Louis, GTown in Final Four, Georgia over Xavier) that it was impossible to narrow it down to just one. A truly admirable effort by all parties.

The End Justifies the Means Award: Dad (Big3JDaddy)

The End Justifies the Means Award is presented to the participant who's early mistakes didn't end up costing him.

At the beginning of the tournament, Dad inadvertently did not enter his picks for the championship games. Heading in to the Final Four, this looked like a serious dilemma because both of his participants were playing in semi-final games. In a funny twist of fate (well, funny at least to the half of the league that didn't pick a UNC/UCLA final game), both UCLA and North Carolina lost their Final Four match ups and their omission ended up not affecting Dad's bracket at all.

But, I'm sure if you ask Dad now, he'll say he had Kansas over Memphis the whole time.

The Think Outside the Box Award: Anyone without a UNC/UCLA Championship pick

The Think Outside the Box Award is presented to all participants who did not select a championship game of UCLA vs. North Carolina.

Speaking of UNC/UCLA, I would like to issue kudos to all the participants who did NOT pick a final match up of UCLA versus North Carolina, because exactly half of the league participants submitted this championship game that was not to be. Further kudos to Jenn (WINNAH!!!!!) for being the only person to put neither UNC or UCLA in the final game, though I'm not sure Sienna vs. Texas turned out much better.

The At Least I Didn't Pick a UCLA / North Carolina Championship Award: Chris (BOOTLEG)

The A.L.I.D.P.A.UCLA.UNC.C.A Award is presented to the participant who finished in the top half of the bracket without picking UCLA or North Carolina to win the championship.

Congratulations to Chris for managing to finish in the top half of the final standings without picking a UNC/UCLA Championship game or Kansas. A lesser man would have rolled over when their championship pick lost in the second round (may I suggest that no one mention Stephen Curry while Chris is in earshot...), but Chris battled back and can proudly claim a spot at the big kids table. He may not have won, but he certainly lost with pride.

The Get What You Deserve Award: Juan (Juan's Bracket), Sandy (ArtStar) tie

The Get What You Deserve Award is awarded to the participant(s) who picked primarily favorites, yet did not win the tournament

I suppose one could (or in Juan's case, did) make the case that picking all number one seeds to make it to the Final Four took guts, since it had never happened before, so I won't open that Pandora's box. Furthermore, it's tough to mock anyone for picking that way since it...well...turned out to be the correct pick. So, before I get to the real issue at hand, I want to congratulate Juan and Sandy for picking all four teams in the Final Four.

The real issue, is that Sandy and Juan's lack of creativity clearly angered the basketball gods. They may have been able to appease the basketball God's with an all favorites Final Four since it had never happened, however, they

The Don't Even Have Bragging Rights Award: Jason (JD Fly)

The Don't Even Have Bragging Rights Award goes to the participant who did not win the tournament and, to further the sting, lost to his brother.

I'll try to be the bigger man here but… HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

The Division II Award: Tori (TrickyPix)

The Division II Award is awarded to the participant who won the battle of the people who didn't know what the numbers next to the teams meant.

In a race that turned out to be surprisingly close, Tori narrowly edged Jenn for the DII title when Memphis knocked off Texas in the Elite Eight.

You want to know what's really scary? If UCLA had won the championship, Tori would have actually tied someone else. I'm not sure if you can recover from that one. That might be a career ender.

(For the sake of the participant in question, I have left their name out. I will only say that it rhymes with Beric.)

The What-If Award: Ryan (RDUB)

The What-If Award is awarded to the participant who could have won the entire tournament their Final Four pick hadn't been eliminated on the first day of the tournament.

There's nothing quite like watching your championship dreams end on the first day of the tournament. You spend three days pouring over stats, listening to pundits debate about this year's Cinderellas, and figuring out which 12 seed will knock off the 5 seed only to watch your bracket go up in flames two hours after tip-off of the first games. Worse yet, to watch the team you picked to get the championship game, not just lose, but get eviscerated by a lower seed.

But, fear not Ryan. The tournament may have been tough, but I'm sure you would have traded a potential title for the coveted What-If Award, anyway.

The AYSO Trophy Award: Kolsky (thatiswhytheysendmeiamexpert), Hayes (Bruin Blue)

The AYSO Trophy Award goes to the participants who failed to distinguish themselves in any notable way, but still receive an award (along with orange slices, a mini bag of Doritos and a Capri-Sun).

Because, here in the JBorhood, we're all winners.

Aloha everyone and see you next year. Thanks for making this the best Jimmy, yet!