Leave it to a punk rock band fronted by a Irishmen to capture urban Midwestern decay so perfectly. Great track from Flogging Molly's latest release, Speed of Darkness.

Seriously, enough funny business.

I was waiting for the most opportune moment to come back on the BTeam, which is not dissimilar than Adam Dunn's waiting for the most opportune moment to start earning a paycheck. YAA! GOT HEEEEEMMMM! (ehem, Allow Brian Wilson to explain for me. ... It\'s gonna be a thing)

Never in all my absence from the blogosphere had I imagined having to so desperately contribute to the BTeam than when I saw Wild Bill's open letter to a Senator (Greg Ball, R - NY, for those of you keeping score at home) about inviting the GLBT community to the marriage party (Sidebar: Folks of all sexual preferences can now marry in the not-as-great-as-Illinois-state of New York. You're in for a rude awakening GLBT folks... I hear marriage isn't that rockin' of a party) followed by Hef's wildly passionate, insanely heartfelt, very public (kind of... a few randoms have to read this stuff, right?), and altogether sugary sweet ode to wifey a year to the day of the rockin'est version of marriage ever! ... EWWWW! COOTIES!

Way Gross. I feel like Bradley Cooper in Hangover 2. Next Stop: Bachelor Brunch at an IHOP! ... Oh, you're one of *those people* who didn't like Hangover 2 because "it was the exact same movie except it was in Bangkok instead of Vegas"? What could you possibly have been expecting?! Well since you're looking for the Coen brothers to also direct your brainless comedies, then I suggest you watch your The Royal Tennenbaums dvd on repeat until you blow your brains out. It's not funny. It's terrible. There. I said it.

More to the point, this is the best time to get back to business. Evidently, we need a reminder about what exactly our business is here at BTeamBombers: bullshitting about a topic, which holds no impact on our lives aside from pure immediate (dis)satisfaction, that piques our interest more than our self-selected career paths. Sports. With a Chicago Bias. I'm all for variety, but let's get back to the core for a bit here, gents. That's what we all signed up for, right?

That said, (I hate that kickstart phrase. "That said". It's so empty. Why did I use it? Because there was no better transition or segue. That's why.) there's not all that much good news out there on the sporting landscape these days. We're all over our euphoria that LeBron James will certainly never touch Michael Jordan. (Hey, did anybody let LBJ know how our real life problems are holding up? I've been meaning to get that letter out.) Being happy for Dallas ended as soon as we realized that Tyson Chandler is an integral energy piece to the Dallas Mavericks and is now fitted for an NBA Championship Ring. (Are You KIDDING ME!?!? He's an ENERGY Guy Now?! The most energy output in a Bulls uniform for Tyson was expended during nightly pouting sessions. GOD!) The NFL is in a lockout for another two weeks. (No good "Millionaires vs Billionaires" quips original enough for a parenthetical sentence. Meh.) Deadspin's most newsworthy pieces are various bartabs in the $200K neighborhood. (OH! Today's bartab was in English Pound currency. Intriguing!) Bill Simmons' Grantland.com project IS WHAT WE THOUGHT IT WAS. (I totally stole his stealing Dennis Green's 2005 press conference line about Da Bears. Tee Hee. He doesn't think too much of us little people writers, you know. Even though he himself is a former little people writer. It hasn't been since Randy Johnson rebuffed an entire clan of lepers for an autograph that one group felt so betrayed by its most successful peer.) Oh, and both Chicago baseball teams are complete and abject hot garbage. (True story. Be it side North or South, neither team is better than its Triple-A affiliate. Both teams are so bad that I'll even bet you watched The Voice on NBC last night. EWWW! CHRISTINA AGUILEIRA COOTIES!)

HOWEVAH! Not all is lost with Chicago's boys in Cubby Blue or Good Guy Black. We still have 3 should-be All-Stars! One of whom should be starting in the All Star Game in Phoenix come July 12. Who are they? Glad you asked. North Sider First!!

Starlin Castro

HO-LEE COW, can this kid play or what? (See what I did there? Big ups, Harry.) I watched every game of the Yankees-Cubs series over Father's Day Weekend and Castro is a fan's wet dream to watch. He's like Omar Vizquel in the field and Hanley Ramirez at the plate (minus the 20-25 HRs). And he's young enough to get in trouble for selling his game-used jersey were he in college. Lots and lots of upside up the middle for the Cubbies. It's just the rest of the infield, outfield, and pitching staff that blows. He could be like Kelly Leak in The Bad News Bears (the 1976 Walter Matthau, not that Two-Buck-Chuck Billy Bob Thornton garbage) just taking every ball hit in-play whether it be to his left, right, or right field. Then, at bat, he would lace pitches meant for ball three of an intentional walk to the opposite field wall for a triple. That'd be sweet. I'd watch that highlight.

The only thing this guy doesn't do is walk. If Moneyball is a worthy source, Billy Beane can't stand Latin players because they never, ever see a pitch bad enough to look at. In the book, Michael Lewis wrote, "They (Latin players) didn't walk their way off the island. They swung." Fair enough. For a frame of reference think Juan Uribe. ::All Fantasy Baseball Owners now say, "OOOOOHHHHHHH, Okay. Yup"::

I think Castro gets into the All-Star Game as a reserve infielder based on his performance in his last 30 days (.322 AVG / 38 hits / 6 steals) and his national exposure against the Yankees. No chance he starts over Jose Reyes, the leader in the clubhouse for NL MVP.

Honorable Mention for being fun to watch in 2011: Darwin Barney. Notice I did not exclude him in "Everybody on the Cubs Except Starlin Castro Seriously Sucks" bucket. That's because he's most certainly not the second coming of Ryno. He's not even the second coming of Eric Young. Fact of the matter is, he's got a long way to go and a lot to prove. But, knowing the franchise, Darwin Barney's just another fun rookie with a fun name passing through the roster (re: Julio Zuleta).

Now for the Good Guys! ::35% cheers, 45% boos, 20% empty, apathetic seats of silence::

Phil Humber

The man tips his cap to our allowing his pitching in his first All-Star Game

This prodigal son of promise and potential has emerged as the South Siders' staff ace, not to mention pitching coach Don Cooper's latest feather in his cap. Hard to believe that Humber "The Reclamation Project" started as Humber "The Mets #1 Pick in 2004".

Humber's made the most out of the least compared to any AL pitcher as he's taken multiple no-hit bids deep into games with 1 run or less of support from his should-be potent offense. One of those no-hit bids, by the by, was against the Yankees in The New Yankee Stadium. No small feat to keep a formidable lineup hitless in its own stadium until an A-Rod single up the middle in the 7th inning.

At 8-3, Humber's won-loss record puts him in the neighborhood of CC Sabathia's, another Yankee and the AL's second best pitcher this year, 10 wins.

He's certainly not starting the All-Star Game, but he should be in attendance to throw an inning. He's earned it.

Paul Konerko

YOU CAN PUT IT ON THE BOOOOAAAARRRRDDDDD!!!!! YYYEEESSSSSSS!!!

After a quick check on MLB.com for the All-Star Game voting, The Captain ranks fifth behind Adrian Gonzalez, Mark Teixeira, Miguel Cabrera, and Mitch Moreland. Wait... Mitch Freaking Moreland? Since when did the Texas Rangers have a surge in fans sufficient enough to keep Paulie in 5th place here? Konerko needs to start at first base for the American League.

You're about to call me a homer, aren't you? Well, yes. Yes, I am. Unabashedly so. But please refer to the numbers. As of 6/28, Konerko ranks in the top 5 in all three triple crown categories (HR / AVG / RBI). And he's done all this being the only hitter with a consistent bat all year on a team climbing the standings. He has absolutely no protection and he's still notched 21 bombs under his belt. If you're pitching against the White Sox, you're telling yourself, "No way am I pitching to Konerko. He's the only guy 1-9 with the stones to swing the bat right now."

The only first baseman I would have to think about taking over Konerko is Adrian Gonzalez, whose average is an awesome .357 with 70 RBI, but Gonzalez only has 16 HRs. I'm sorry, but when you're hitting clean-up in that BoSox lineup, there's no excuse to be trailing anybody except Jose Bautista in homers. There's just not.

I understand why Konerko doesn't have as many votes as a Teixeira or a Gonzalez. The fanbases for both teams are bigger by a large margin. And said fanbases will vote for all nine position players on their team as All-Stars. Remember when Jason Giambi in pinstripes or Mo Vaughn in red stockings would start the All-Star Game at 1B? Awful. I even saw flyers in the men's room the other day for Russel Martin's entry into the starting line-up for the All-Star Game. I don't think the Frenchman's so much as fouled off a pitch since May. How can he make the All-Star Game's starting line-up?

If forced to pick, very easily the AL MVP goes to Paul Konerko. Who else are you going to give it to? Curtis Granderson? Another south side kid and a UIC product, but no. Adrian Gonzalez? No. He hasn't had the pressure of carrying a team. He's only had the pressure of acclimating to a new team in a bigger market with higher expectations, although he's done it with slightly more grace than Adam Dunn. The only argument I can see is Justin Verlander. That man's good enough to throw a no-hitter every time out. He's successfully passed Roy Halladay as the best pitcher in the majors. Thank God for managers like Jim Leyland. He'll make a decision not by looking at a scorebook or a sabermetric trend sheet but rather by thinking for five minutes over a Marlboro Red and chocolate milk. It's not scientific, but I like it!

And there you have it. My "welcome back" entry. Not a single utterance of politics or lovelife milestones met. Maybe someday, but not today. For now, I'll just take my cuts, maybe hit a few on the screws, but mostly just keep it between the lines.

Blake

My bride and I giggling after I accidentally tried to marry the priest

One year ago to this day, I found myself kneeling before God praying that I wouldn’t pass out in front everyone I’ve ever known and the most beautiful girl in the world. I had made the unfortunate mistake of ordering a five-cheese omelette that morning at breakfast. The quintet of cheese was making monstrous noises in my stomach and the holy altar at St. Paul of the Cross was strangely hotter than hell...

So I looked up to the giant wooden Jesus on the cross above and prayed that I could stay conscious long enough to make it through the ceremony. Although a sweaty groom who foolishly ingested 100 times his daily dairy intake was likely not #1 on God’s to-do list, I hoped he’d spare my wife the embarrassment of watching her soon-to-be-husband take a swan dive on the same altar where she received her first communion.

The night before, friends and family had gathered at Carlucci in Rosemont for a rehearsal diner party hosted by my parents. The past four and half months had been a total whirlwind of photography appointments, list making sessions, DJ meetings, and in-depth wedding day discussions –most of which I was completely uninvolved in. Shannon had done it all. Making my way through all my Irish relatives and red-faced groomsmen and ushers, I was amazed that in only a few hours I would have my wife for keeps.

It was eighty miles north and four years prior that Shannon and I had our first real conversation in her brother Brendan’s dirty Marquette dining room. My first thought when she began talking to me and smiling that gorgeous smile at me was 'what is wrong with her.' Why on God’s green Earth would a girl this lovely give me the time of day? Nevertheless, we chatted the night away amongst a blur cheap beer and playing cards. She even let me share a part of seat with her at the crowded party. We talked about music, our families, people we knew, and I’m sure many more things, but all I could think about was how big and blue her eyes were up close. Sauntering back to my house on 19th street that night, I couldn’t help but feel that something monumental had begun in my life.

I still had my doubts about my chances with Ms. Sullivan. Although some may believe that one shouldn’t place romantic limitations on oneself, I strongly believed she was out of my league. Shannon was a daughter of a Chicago politician and carried herself with such elegance that I assumed she would only date the classiest of guys, not a guy whose wardrobe mainly consisted of cargo shorts and Bruce Springsteen t-shirts. I needed to find out if her flirtatious smiles and willingness to talk to me for more than hour was the real deal or just a momentary lapse in sanity on her part.

So I did what any hopeless romantic would do. I stalked her. OK, so I didn’t like stalk her in the creepy hiding behind the bushes sense. I would go eat lunch everyday in the cafeteria at Schroeder Hall in the hopes that we would run into each other by “accident.” I would look out across the cafeteria and scope the crowd for Shannon’s curly head of hair. I loved the fact that she had the kind of hair Irish dancers would have killed for. You could pick her out of crowd anywhere.

I eventually spotted her one day getting up to get another bowl of tomatoes and quickly set my bowl of jello aside and ran over to her. Acting like I just so happened to be finishing lunch at that moment, I gave her an awkward hug and said we should have lunch sometime. We began to talk more and had a few cafeteria lunch dates chaperoned by her brother Brendan.  At parties we would sneakily hold hands when no one was looking like a pair of toddlers who fell in love in the sandbox.

I had already told most of my friends about my ongoing courtship of Shannon and received tons of solicited and unsolicited advise from the gang on how to win her heart. My roommates suggested everything from asking her out while wearing a chicken costume to arranging a middle ages-styled meeting with Brendan to negotiate his sister’s hand. Instead, I just waited for Brendan to go out of town and invited Shannon over to a party at our house. We danced to eighties music (the only kind of music Shannon listens to) and finally I got up enough courage to kiss her. It was easily the best decision of my life. And although there’s much more to our journey to the altar, that magical night in Milwaukee felt like yesterday as I awoke on our wedding day.

Upon my waking at the Courtyard Marriott, I immediately realized I had failed to pack many of the basic essentials necessary to make myself appear to be a respectable groom. I had to rely on my best man, Bill, for: a razor, shaving cream, deodorant, socks, and tooth brush. I even needed to borrow a pair of his boxers. Apparently, not everyone wears their own underwear to their wedding.  I felt like I was in second grade again at St. Edith’s, fumbling through my desk for my homework. Nervous, excited, and overwrought with hope that my bride would get everything she ever wanted on her wedding day, we set out for the ceremony.

My brother Terry, his wife Jamie, and Bill made me calm my nerves by telling me jokes as we rolled through the familiar images of downtown Park Ridge. Over the past two years since I had graduated from Marquette, I had spent countless hours in Shannon’s suburban hometown. Working all day at the Park Ridge Library on various freelance writing gigs and besieging her parent’s refrigerator at night for make-shift dinners, Park Ridge had almost become a second home to me.

Seeing my brothers, soon-to-be-brother-in-laws, and friends dressed in tuxedos when we got out of the car settled down the butterflies moshing in my stomach. I had never seen Terry, Tim, Brendan, the Sullivan Brothers, Cradick, March, Kearney, Bill, and Big John more dressed up in my entire life. I was so accustomed to seeing my friends wearing ill-fitting jean shorts and hoodies that I couldn’t help but smile at the change in our attire. We took pictures outside the church cracking jokes until everyone was rushed off into their designated pre-wedding posts.

Inside the church, the sweat began forming on my forehead as the music played and each of my groomsmen walked out to greet a bridesmaid along aisle. Eventually. I was left at the altar to await my bride. Eternity seemed to pass while I waited for the big doors of the narthex to open. Shannon had absolutely forbid me to see her before our wedding. I smiled a big smile for everyone as the seconds passed as I awaited my first glimpse of white. Finally the music stopped and the pianist began playing “Canon in D.”

The doors of St. Paul opened and there, smiling like a saint, walked my bride.  Wearing a classically beautiful dress of white and her cheeks as rosy as the day I met her, Shannon glided toward me in arm with her tearful father, the most honorable Dave Sullivan. It felt like all the faces in the church washed away and I was left with this radiant beauty starring at me with her perfect smile. People later said I looked like someone had punched me straight in the stomach when Shannon walked down the aisle. She, literally, knocked the air right out of me and again I wondered how I had tricked this babe into a lifetime of love.

In the end, Jesus came through. I preserved through the hot lights of the almost sixty year old church to make it back down the aisle and into the forgiving June air. I had married my dream girl and my dream girl had married me. Despite my flirtations with blacking out, I will look back on that day as my best day. A man couldn’t have a more caring, more beautiful, more wonderful wife than my Shannon. She loves me and all her close ones with such a ferocity she can barely contain it.  This past year with Shannon has been the best year of my life. Thank you my love.

Happy Anniversary Shannon,

Sean

Senator Ball,

I think it is both commendable and forward-thinking of you to take your decision making process on the issue of gay marriage to the public. I hope you consider each and every response to your tweet but more importantly, I hope and pray that you do the right thing. In this case, despite the debate that has engulfed our nation for the past few years, the right thing is plainly obvious. The constitution guarantees equality to all Americans, not only those who live and think the same way as those in the majority. That single fact, more than anything else is what separates The United States of America from the rest of the world and makes us great. The great American tradition of treating all of our citizens equally is what makes the rest of the world look to us for guidance and it is the greatest principle upon which this country was founded. According to these simple, yet important American values, the only thing to do is vote in favor of gay marriage.

I recently moved back east from California, where I lived during the 2008 election when prop 8 was voted in and gay marriage was banned. As a straight male, gay marriage had never been something to which I had given much thought, but in the months leading up to the election, as the debate raged on, I couldn't help but think of my gay friends, neighbors and co-workers and what it meant to them. I started to put myself in their shoes and think about how I would feel if the government dictated to me who I was allowed to love or marry. It is not the place of this or any other government to strip its citizens of any rights because of who they are or how they were born. When the results of the prop 8 decision were announced, it made me ashamed to be a Californian. Nobody was effected positively by the decision. Those who supported the bill gained nothing. Their lives, families and marriages didn't change, but those who opposed it were devastated. Many had their lives disastrously altered because the state stepped in and told them they couldn't carry out their plans of starting a family in the legal and traditional sense. There is enough division in this country. We need to start taking steps toward unity. Allowing all Americans the right to marry is a positive step in that direction.

More importantly, by denying gay Americans this or any other right, it implies that being gay is a choice and this implication opens the door to many other forms of discrimination from housing to employment to education. You wouldn't deny an American such a fundamental right if he or she was born left handed or with blond hair or if he or she were black or Catholic. Homosexuality is no different than any of these distinguishing features. People don't choose who they are attracted to or who they love. Gay Americans have no more control or choice in the matter than straight Americans and treating them as if they do only encourages their marginalization in society.

As a representative of the GOP, you profess to believe in freedom, small government, the absence of the government meddling in or interfering with your personal affairs. Banning gay marriage flies in the face of these values. It flies in the face of everything not just the GOP but The United States of America stands for. Please don't listen to those who are naive enough to hide behind the veil of so called "family values" or defense of the "sanctity of marriage". This is bigotry dressed up to sound noble. The best way to promote family values in this country is to allow all Americans, gay or straight to have families and the best way to defend the honor and sanctity of marriage is to give everyone the chance to experience it. It seems the issue that's keeping you on the fence is that of religious protections. This would be well and good if it were the job of the state senate to govern from a religious standpoint which the Constitution makes clear it is not. This is not a religious issue, it's a legal one. If religious organizations choose not to recognize same sex marriage, the same way certain religions don't recognize interfaith marriages, that's for them to decide. But insisting upon language in the bill guaranteeing them this right is unrealistic and I think you know it. This comes across as a device by which you can vote down the bill without directly or publicly opposing gay marriage. Take a stand Senator. You either believe that all Americans are equal or you don't. If you believe they are, you should vote in favor of the bill. The simple fact is that religion shouldn't even play a roll in your decision making process. Religion and government are to remain separate in this country. This is for the good of both religion and government and going against this principle weakens both.

In closing Senator, let me appeal to you to think about your legacy as a lawmaker in this country. You have the opportunity to create sweeping change simply by allowing gay Americans to exercise a right already afforded to every other group in this nation. It is my firm belief that 50 years from now, this period in American history will be remembered in a similar light to the civil rights movement and it is up to you to decide which side of this great struggle you want to be associated with. I have no doubt that those who stand up and defend the rights of all Americans to marry and pursue happiness will be remembered like Dwight Eisenhower and Bobby Kennedy as leaders and agents of change while those who opposed it will forever be cast to the same category in history as George Wallace and Bull Connor as bigots, anti-progressives and hate-mongers. I believe you know in your heart that the best thing for your state, this nation and for your constituents, many of whom are gay, is to fight for the rights of all Americans and vote in favor of gay marriage. Throughout our nation's history New York has been a leader on a national scale. Your great state is once again presented with the opportunity to lead by example by passing groundbreaking legislation and upholding the fundamental American value of equality. Take the lead. Do what's right. Thank you again, Senator for encouraging public discussion on this issue and soliciting the opinions of the people. It is a great sign that you are carefully considering both sides of the issue and I will continue to pray that you vote on the side of equality and freedom.

Respectfully,

Bill Malinowski

-Wild

There are three guys that come to mind who deserve a break:  Obama, Michael Vick and LeBron James.  This isn't a political blog, those are for douchebags and (speaking of douchebags) Rick Reilly beat me to defending Vick.  I hate it when I find myself agreeing with Reilly.  But I digress, I'm here to defend LBJ.

First, I don't want to hear anymore shit about how Cleveland basketball fans are "long suffering".  Cleveland baseball fans and Cleveland football fans are long suffering.  But before LeBron came to town, you fuckers didn't even know you had a basketball team.  Just pretend it never happened.  Revert back to not giving a fuck.  Not caring suits you, just like the rest of the country doesn't give a shit about you.  Also, so what if you are long suffering?  Do you think you're somehow karmically entitled?  This is a Cubs fan talking.  Suffering defeat for extended periods of time doesn't entitle you to shit.  What fucking fantasy world are you living in?  This is the real world lady!  Life's not fair.  Deal with it.  You live in the middle of the Goddamn rust-belt.  You should be used to disappointment.

Next, the idea that James turned his back on his hometown is ridiculous.  He's not from Cleveland.  He's from Akron.  And even if he was from Cleveland, this isn't the movies, where the kid grows up to play for the team he grew up loving.  This is real life, where players play where they have the greatest chance of winning and will make the most money.  Grow up Peter Pan, Count Chocula.

Do you fucking people really think that LeBron or any athlete in any city owes anything to the fans?  I know you go to games and watch them on TV and sort of indirectly pay their salaries, but you pay Steve Jobs' salary too if you own an ipod.  Do you expect his loyalty?  His personal loyalty to you?  No, you expect him to sell you an awesome status symbol that will be obsolete in 18-36 months.  If Jobs moved to Japan to run Sony because they had better R&D and could pay him more (and the climate was better, the nightlife was hotter and the people were better looking)  would you be pissed?  "That bastard!  I pay his salary!  I supported him!  I love my ipod so he should love me dammit!"  Of course you wouldn't.  That would be crazy.  You'd be happy for him that he took a new and exciting opportunity and had the chance to make a little more coin than before.  Your addiction to Mochaccinos indirectly pays Howard Schultz's salary.  You support Starbucks, you go there every day.  But you don't expect anything from Schultz personally.  You expect a fucking latte.  It's the same with athletes.  They don't owe you shit.  You paid for a ticket, and one of the greatest players to ever strap on basketball shoes entertained the shit out of you.  That's it.  Obligation over.  The fact that you live in the city he reps, love his team or worship him is fucking meaningless, except in your head.  Get out of your damn head and get a clue.

When did it become OK to wish personal harm towards someone we disagree with?  Who signed off on all of this psychotic vitriol?  Listen up, Tea Partiers, PETA People and Jilted Clevelandites:  You disagree with these people's decisions.  They disappointed you.  You don't approve of their actions.  Voicing that disapproval is great, but there's no need to threaten people, wish they were dead or compare them to Hitler, Stalin or Charles Barkley.  Lighten up Cleveland.  He didn't go to Miami with the intent of slighting, insulting, or personally harming you.  He did it so he could play ball with his friends with whom he already won a gold medal.  Miami could offer him that.  Chicago couldn't, New York couldn't and you couldn't, but he waited until the very last minute to see if you maybe could, so he could stay and keep all you ungrateful sucktards happy.  He didn't wait until the last minute as part of some diabolical plan to sink your franchise.  He was holding out hope, just like you were that the organization would be able to move heaven and earth and bring Wade and Bosch up to the foul smelling shores of Lake Erie.  But it didn't work out.  Stop fucking crying about it.

I know what you're saying, "But 'The Decision' was such a classless move!"  Yeah.  He could have handled that better.  But he's 25 years old - and speaking as a 25 year old guy, let me tell you, sometimes 25 year old guys do stupid shit.  It's not that uncommon - or unfathomable - especially when you have Nike and ESPN in your ear, egging you on to turn this thing into the biggest media spectacle ever.  ESPN, once again is guilty of creating, and thus becoming the story.  Don't believe me?  Turn on ESPN today.  They haven't gone more than twelve and a half minutes since midnight last night without talking about LeBron's "homecoming".  They've been planning this for months.  Their level of sociopathic manipulation makes Alonzo Harris look like a fucking boy scout.  They played up the free-agent bonanza, reported stories based on twitter and hearsay and turned "The Decision" into the landmark event of controversy it's become.  Don't get so caught up in it.  He left.  He brought you closer to greatness than you've ever been and then he left.

This isn't the first time we've seen Cleveland sports fans bitch like a bunch of little girls.  You pulled the same shit when Modell moved the Browns.  Sports is a business.  The teams, the players, the coaches, the fucking waterboys are there to make money.  They appreciate their fans.  That doesn't make them forever indebted to their fans.  These things happen - and not just to you.  Want proof?  The Browns moved to Baltimore - a city that lost their football team over night a few decades earlier.  Part of being an adult is learning to deal with disappointment, accepting that not everything is going to go your way.  Congratulations Cleveland fans, for the second time in two decades you've proven yourselves to be children.  Does anything get done in that city? Or do you just sit around and bitch about how bad the Indians suck,  how hard the Browns blow (glad you got them back huh? Those two winning seasons in the last 12 years must make it all worth it) and how unfair it is that LeBron left?  What do you people do when you're passed over for promotions or cut off in traffic?  Go into a coma?  Spontaneously combust?  You want to know why LeBron left?  Because he's a winner and Cleveland is a city of losers.  Losing is a tradition in Cleveland.  Failure is a way of life - and constantly bitching about that isn't going to reverse this trend.  Incidentally, having the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame doesn't redeem you.  A lot of cities have museums.

And stop acting so giddy that the Heat are having trouble adjusting to three of the biggest stars in the league.  They're 11-8, not 8-11.  What did you think they were going to win all 82 games? 80? 73?  I've got news for you.  Some records never will be broken.  Kobe's never going to score 100 points, Ichiro will never have a 56 game hitting streak and no one will ever win 72 games again (What?  This website is Chicago biased.  We told you it would be).  I hope tonight is a turning point for the Heat.  I hope the big 3 play like the stars they are and just embarrass the shit out of all of you.  I hope the Cavs get absolutely dominated tonight and LeBron puts up a career high while he, Bosch and Wade all post tripple doubles.  Would that shut you up?  Probably not.  If you assholes had any balls or any class, you'd give your returning hero a standing ovation tonight.  But you don't, so you won't.  Fine.  Enjoy your miserable, never-winning-shit, "poor me I'm stuck in shitty Cleveland" existence.

Finally, in the immortal words of Jimmy Kimmel, "Cleveland doesn't rock.  Cleveland sucks.  Your football team is the color of shit."  That should just about sum it up.

-Wild

From the 2:04 mark in the first quarter on, the issue was never in doubt.  March scored us some excellent front row seats in the south end zone, so Robert Blanton's momentum shifting blocked punt/TD occurred right in front of us.  From that point on, it was all Irish, all the time.  Despite seemingly insurmountable injuries on both sides of the ball, the Irish played like the team Brian Kelly's been talking about all year. True  freshman QB Tommy Rees threw 13 of 20 with 3 TD's and no INT's.  The defense was equally as impressive as the offense and special teams with three HUGE 4th down stops, completely cutting off any momentum the Utes attempted to mount, two of which were goal line stands (one, like the punt return, occurred less than 50 feet from where we were sitting).  It was just an absolutely fantastic way to close the Stadium for the season.  Fans went from bemoaning the "losing-est senior class in ND history" to a true belief that we could "BEAT SC!"  (which we did!) as the boisterous chants suggested as we left the field.  Oh yeah - we GOT ON THE FIELD!!!!!!

A perfect ND day that included tailgating, a fly over during the Anthem and an exciting, Irish dominated game ended in splendid fashion as the ushers said "fuck it" and let anyone who wanted to go on the field and celebrate with the students, band, Irish Guard and players.  Jimmy touched the cross bar of the goal post, I almost had a stroke and we both checked something off our bucket lists.  I won't go into how awesome of an experience this was, because words won't do it justice, but leaving the stadium the same way Knute Rockne, Joe Montana and Derrick Mays did was an almost perfect experience.

Watching the Irish turn a corner as a team, even this late in the season, combined with all the pomp and circumstance surrounding Irish Football (The Band of The Fighting Irish, The Irish Guard, The acres upon acres of tailgaters, the fighter jets during the National Anthem) would have made for an incredible experience on their own, but getting to celebrate with the team on the hallowed ground of the football field and walking out through the tunnel that Rudy and so many other young Domer hopefuls have prayed they could one day sprint out of with their gold helmets shining in the sun was nothing short of miraculous.  I could feel the presence of Leyden and Crowley, the winning spirit of Holtz and Parseghian, the energy of the crowd chanting "We are ND! We are ND!"  As the band finished and fans started to make their way out of the stadium, we didn't want the moment to end, taking our time exiting through the players' tunnel and savoring our time on the field we had watched our heroes compete on since our youth.

Suffice to say, Saturday's game shot right up into my top 5 all time sports experiences and that's saying something.  To give you an idea of the company this game was in, here's the complete list:

Top 5 Sports Memories:

#5: December 10, 2005 - The Bradley Center 111-106 Bucks over Cavs, LeBron throws up 52 points like it ain't no thing

This was the single greatest individual performance by an athlete I've ever witnessed first hand.  I was interning on the sports desk at Milwaukee's ABC affiliate when my boss tossed me a media pass and asked "Wanna go see LeBron?"  Fuck and yes I did!  No camera crew, no report to file, just free media room grub and press row seats for absolute domination.  LeBron would put up 52 points in a losing effort, but the sheer dominance he showed and absolute manhandling of anyone who tried to guard him, take the lane away or contest him at the hole was unlike anything I'd ever seen on a basketball court.  I got to go to the press conference and everything after the game, but sitting there, watching LBJ score at will, it was clear that the NBA's next heir to greatness had arrived.

#4: January 20, 2006 - The Bradley Center 67-65 Marquette over ND, Steve Novak knocks down buzzer beating 3 FTW

A roommate's dad had sick seats for this sold out game (every year, Marquette breaks its own attendance record for Wisconsin basketball during either the Madison game or the ND game.  This was that game!) and I somehow finagled an invite.  We sat in the 5th row, pounding Guinness and cheering on the Golden Eagles in a real barn burner.  As the final seconds ticked off the clock, it looked like hope was lost until Steve Novak, MU's never-miss forward got the ball at the elbow.  3.  Swish.  Buzzer.  A capacity crowd at the Bradley Center absolutely lost their shit.  I've seen a lot of amazing games at the BC, but this one takes the cake.

#3: August 14, 1998 - Yankee Stadium 6-4 Yankees over Rangers, Bernie Williams hits a walk-off 2 run homer

This game was special for a few reasons.  One was the slam bang finish, courtesy of Bernie Williams, which we'll get to in a second.  Another is that I attended with my die-hard Yankees fan Uncle, my sister (who would call Williams' shot) and my dad.  The last is that I believe the summer of '98 was the greatest summer for baseball in my lifetime.

I'm sure this will draw a lot of ire from a lot of people, but you can't argue with the fact that the home run race  that summer was the most exciting thing we'd seen in decades from the sport (especially since at the time we didn't, or chose not to know what we know now) and that it single-handedly  saved baseball, which still hadn't recovered from the strike.  This piece of history, combined with the Yankees' record breaking 125 wins (regular season and post season combined) brought me back to baseball that summer.  I had never turned on it completely, but some of the passion definitely died in 1994 and the summer of '98 rekindled it.

Despite the home run race happening right in my backyard, as the two NL Central sluggers duked it out chasing Maris, this would be the only game I attended during that historic summer.  I may not have gotten to see Sosa or McGwire as they chased greatness, but I did get to see the winning-est team in the history of the game record a W.

With two out and one on in the bottom of the ninth, we were hopeful as the Yanks had just tied the game at 4.  As my dad and I rooted for Bernie Williams to keep the rally alive with a sensible base hit, my sister looked at us and said "Bernie's gonna hit a walk-off."  We laughed and explained to her that we just needed base runners and that predicting/wishing for a home run was bad baseball karma.  What the fuck did we know?  With a 3-2 count, Williams dinged one to right center ("It's a walk-off!"), The Stadium erupted, and we left the game chanting "Bernie! Bernie! Bernie!" with 50,000 of our best friends as Sinatra's "New York, New York" blared over the PA system and Bob Shepard implored us all to travel safe.

#2: November 13, 2010 - Notre Dame Stadium 28-3 Irish over Utah, WE GOT ON THE FIELD

See above.  Did I mention WE GOT ON THE FIELD?

#1: April 28, 1995 - Wrigley Field 4-3 Cubs over Expos, My dad is the man

Opening Day, 1995.  At least 2 out of every 3 Opening Days in Chicago are absolutely horrid.  We've had rain, snow, wind, sub-freezing temperatures and embarrassing defeats.  But every so often, the baseball gods smile on Chicago and give us an actual spring day to welcome back the boys of summer.  This was one of those Opening Days.  72 degrees, sunny, a light lake breeze, the perfect climate for North Side Baseball.  I knew my dad had tickets to the game but was told he was taking clients.  Undeterred, I continued to pester him throughout breakfast and the ride to school, making sure he didn't have an extra ticket he'd maybe forgotten about.  I was assured that every ticket in his possession was spoken for.

Dejected, I trudged toward the schoolhouse looking forward to wasting 8 hours of prime sunshine bored to tears by whatever the hell it is they teach you in the fourth grade.  I spent most of the morning staring out the window, wishing I could be out playing street hockey, riding bikes or sitting at Wrigley Field watching the Cubs.  Sometime around 10 AM, the class was suffering through one of the those God-awful film strips they used to show you.  It was the kind with taped narration but no moving pictures.  I sincerely hope they don't make students sit through that shit any more.  If my memory serves me right, it was the story of Caddie Woodlawn, some pioneer chick who was home schooled and spent her days doing bad ass things like splitting wood and boiling the laundry.  Anyway, just as I was seriously considering stabbing myself with one of those deadly geometry compasses, I saw my mom appear outside the classroom door.  Fuck.  Was it Market Day?  What the shit was Mom doing here? Did someone die?  Holy Christ someone died.

My baby sister had been born the previous fall and demanded around 99% of my mom's attention, so for her to make an appearance at school meant some serious shit must be up.  She usually didn't even pick me up from school at the end of the day.  My mind started spinning with horrible worst case scenarios as I wondered what couldn't wait until 3PM.  As the teacher slipped out and briefly talked with my mom in the hall, I took mental stock of my weekend activities and wondered what I could have done to be in enough trouble for my mom to show up at school.  As the embarrassment of having a parent show up at school mounted (for some reason, to a fourth grader, this is mortifying) and my teacher came back in and told me to go talk to my mom, I braced for the worst.

As soon as I hit the hallway, my mother's face lit up.  "Wanna go to the Cubs game?" she asked.

"Shut up!" I shot back in disbelief.

"I will not," she returned.  I was the hell out of that school faster than a roided out Marion Jones out of the blocks (too soon? too dated?).  I didn't even go back and get my books.  Didn't stop at my locker.  I just ran outside and jumped in the car.  CHECK OUT ALL THOSE POOR BASTARDS ROTTING AWAY IN STUPID SCHOOL!  I'M GOING TO WRIGLEY!!!!!!  Within a half hour, I was on the L and headed for Addison.  My dad picked me up at the L stop and brought me over to Sluggers (my first and to this day favorite bar) where we had pre-game burgers with some of his clients and buddies from work.  This was also the day I learned about Jell-O shots, (the combination of Jell-O and alcohol is just as fascinating to a 10 year old as it is to a college freshman, however being about 11 years short of legal drinking age, I was not allowed to partake) indoor batting cages and waitresses with tons of cleavage.

Right before game time, we made our way across the street and found our seats in the first few rows along the right field line.  I remember the sense of anticipation as we approached the gates and the butterflies I felt when the ancient usher who ripped my ticket looked at me and said "Welcome to Wrigley Field, son".  I had been to Wrigley Field before, but this was opening day!  And I was supposed to be in school!  I was king shit of turd mountain!

As we walked out of the tunnel into the bright sunlight, revealing the deep green of the grass, the rust brown of the dirt and the red brick peeking through the not-yet-flowering ivy, I got that feeling that "Field of Dreams" spends two hours trying to describe.  It's a feeling you can only get when you enter a major league park - and it's got to be the right major league park, like Wrigley, the Old Yankee Stadium, or Dodgers Stadium.  I still expect to feel the way I did that day every time I go to the ballpark, and when I do, it's great, when I don't, for the briefest of moments, it's absolutely soul crushing.  But that day, in that park, I felt it.

As the game got started, I realized our seats were prime right fielder shit talking territory, and I did not hold back.  Even at 10, I could hurl quite the string of insults at an opposing player.  Heckling the closest opposing fielder to my seats has always been one of my favorite ballpark pastimes and that day, I was called up from the minors and earned my big-leagues trash-talking stripes.  The poor guy never knew what hit him.  I think he even started tearing up in the bottom of the 7th.  It would stand as my proudest heckling moment for fifteen years until a myself and a group of intoxicated friends antagonized the green knight at Medieval Times so badly that he actually broke character to argue with us ("I just made fun of that kid so hard he puked!")

The Cubs won 4-3, I ate like 6 hot dogs, a sundae and two things of peanuts and I learned how to play pass the cup.  More importantly, I was one of the guys.  No moms, no sisters, just my dad and his buddies, drinking beer, gambling, telling off color jokes and enjoying Opening Day at the single greatest place on earth to enjoy a ballgame.  I had been to a few Cubs games at this point, but I'm pretty sure this was the first win I was present for.

This was before the days of W flags and "Go Cubs Go" but cruising home on Lake Shore Drive with the windows open and the music cranked up just a little too loud was all the victory celebration the Old Man and I needed.  I've seen some amazing shit in my life and been a part of some incredible sporting events, but Opening Day 1995 was the perfect day.  It was a day I'll never forget as long as I live.  The kind of day Wrigley Field was built for.  It's a day I'll tell my son about before his first Opening Day.  That day and days like it are the reason they should never tear Wrigley down and the reason I'll fucking cry if they ever do.  Thanks for that day, Dad.

-Wild

Resident College Football Expert Jimmy "The Greek" March Gives Us His Prediction For A Key Big 10 Matchup

The Michigan State Spartans are ranked 5th in the BCS poll yet they’re a touchdown underdog when they visit the #18 Iowa Hawkeyes this weekend.  This year’s cardiac kids don’t have a superstar on offense; they don’t always look flashy in getting the job done.  In fact, they’ve looked down right ugly at times (see most of the Illinois and Northwestern games).

However, at 8-0, the Spartans are decidedly in the driver’s seat in the Big Ten at this point in the season.  With Kirk Cousins at the helm, the Michigan State offense is averaging just under 450 yards and 34.5 points per game.  The Spartan defense, for its part, has only given up 17.9 points per game, good for 18th in the country.  With kicker Dan Conroy hitting 13 of 14 field goals on the season, Mark D’Antonio’s squad sure looks the part of a well-rounded, high-powered Big Ten Champion.

Why then, are the Spartans an underdog to a two-loss Iowa team?

State is on the road, sure, but home-field advantage typically gives three points.

That still leaves MSU a three-and-a-half point ‘dog.

With three potentially game-breaking running backs (Baker, Bell, Caper), four legitimate wideouts (Dell, Cunningham, Martin, Nichol), and two tight ends that are a mismatch waiting to happen (Gantt, Linthicum) all at the disposal of a quarterback completing two-thirds of his passes on the season, why are the Spartans the upset-special pick of the week for columnists and analysts all over the country?

First, the Michigan State Spartans have most definitely been this year’s version of the cardiac kids.  The headline-grabbing overtime fake field goal to beat the struggling Fighting Irish; the same one that sent Coach D’Antonio to the hospital with a heart attack was only the beginning.

While that win propelled the Spartans into the top-25, there have been a couple other close calls along the way that have allowed them to keep climbing.  The score in Michigan State’s 26-6 win against Illinois two weeks ago belies the fact that Sparty struggled, and for about three quarters, this looked like a Big Ten bottom feeder fight.

Last weekend in Evanston, Michigan State was trailing Northwestern 17-0 late in the second quarter.  Sparty clawed back again and put in the game winner on a 9-yard B.J. Cunningham touchdown catch with 2:00 remaining.

Second, despite the fact that the Iowa Hawkeyes have two-losses, Ricky Stanzi has seemingly put it together as a third year starter at quarterback.  With 16 touchdowns to only 2 interceptions on the season, Stanzi, who’s sometimes questionable decision-making was often Iowa’s Achilles’ heel in the ’08 and ’09 campaigns, has made the Iowa Hawkeyes multi-dimensional on offense.  With receivers Derrell Johnson-Koulianos and Marvin McNutt both averaging over 16 yards per catch, and running back Adam Robinson stacking up 737 yards and 9 touchdowns through seven games, this years Hawkeye offense is no joke.

On the other side of the ball, the Hawkeyes have put together another stout defensive unit, allowing only 15.7 points per game on the season.

Above all, the Hawkeyes have a bad taste leftover from last week’s last minute, 31-30 loss to Wisconsin.  Wanting to take it out on someone, anyone, Michigan State is definitely walking into a trap game.

Despite the oddsmakers, the experts, and Michigan State’s own inconsistent play, the Spartans have what it takes to run the table in the Big Ten this season.  With an impressive showing against Wisconsin, beating the Badgers by 10, and putting together the blueprint for shutting down Michigan’s Denard Robinson in a 34-17 beat down in Ann Arbor, this year’s Michigan State squad has shown that they know how to get the job done.

Prediction: Michigan State 31, Iowa 27

-Jim March

#11 Missouri knocks off #1 Oklahoma as missed red zone opportunities sink Sooners.

Early Momentum Swings

Fourteen seconds into the Saturday night showdown in Columbia, Missouri, Tiger fans had reason to believe the third number one team would fall in as many weeks.

Oklahoma sent the opening kickoff short; outside the numbers and just shy of the 20-yard-line.  Cue upback Gahn McGaffie.  The sophomore wide receiver exploded through a crease, high-stepped the kicker’s shoestring tackle attempt, and followed a two-man convoy into the end zone.  Missouri 7, Oklahoma 0.

The Mizzou defense was stout in their first series forcing Oklahoma into a three-and-out, with a 3rd down sack of Landry Jones an exclamation point to send the hometown crowd into a frenzy.

Then the punt.

The Tigers deep man, Carl Gettis, muffed the punt.  Oklahoma recovered and just that quick, the Sooners were in business.  Four plays and 44 yards later, the Sooners tied it on a 27-yard touchdown pass from Jones to freshman receiver Kenny Stills.

Timely Turnovers

Oklahoma looked primed to go up 14-7 late in the 1st quarter, driving downfield with tailback DeMarco Murray lined up at slot and true freshman RB Roy Finch carrying out of the backfield.  But, on 1st and 10 from the Missouri 12, DE Aldon Smith picked Landry Jones, returning the ball 58 yards to the Oklahoma 28.

Six plays later, running back De’Vion Moore scored from a yard out to give Mizzou the 14-7 lead early in the 2nd quarter.

The Sooners switched up the tempo on the next drive, operating in the no-huddle.  Sparked by Ryan Broyles’ 39 yard catch-and-run, Oklahoma drove into the red zone and proceeded to turn the ball over again on a Mossis Madu fumble.

With 4:08 in the first half, the third time proved to be the charm.  Oklahoma marched down the field efficiently yet again.  This time the Sooners punched it in.  Landry Jones hit DeMarco Murray on a four-yard swing pass to tie the score at 14.

Later in the game, after Blaine Gabbert hooked up with Jerrell Jackson on a 38 yard touchdown strike to give Missouri a 26-21 lead early in the 4th quarter, Zaviar Gooden intercepted Landry Jones on Oklahoma’s first play from scrimmage.  The Tigers converted the pick into a pivotal field goal, stretching their lead to eight.

Closing in the Clutch

After an Oklahoma three-and-out gave Missouri the ball at their own 24 with 8:57 left in regulation, Coach Gary Pinkel didn’t get conservative and play not to lose; Pinkel and Offensive Coordinator Dave Yost went for the throat.

Gabbert, Moore & co. were happy to oblige.  With a five play, 76 yard touchdown drive that included three consecutive plays of 15 or more yards, the Missouri Tigers locked up their first victory over the Sooners since 1998.

Odds and Ends

Quarterbacks Landry Jones and Blaine Gabbert both finished with over 300 yards passing.

Mizzou junior wideout Jerrell Jackson had a career night with nine catches for 139 yards and a touchdown.

The Tigers held the ball over 38 minutes, outrushing Oklahoma 178-99 in the process.

Missouri kicker Grant Ressel hit fields goals of 36, 30, and 23 yards in the game; embattled Oklahoma kicker Jimmy Stevens hooked his only attempt of the night, a 30 yard try early in the 3rd quarter.

Despite an ankle injury that kept him on the sidelines in the 1st quarter and limited his mobility throughout the game, Oklahoma’s Biletnikoff hopeful Ryan Broyles finished with 8 catches for 110 yards.

Apart from Missouri, Boise State, TCU, and Utah are likely Saturdays biggest winners.  But as the Broncos, Horned Frogs, and Utes move closer to slotting themselves into the National Championship game, the question remains: Would the computers actually give an undefeated non-BCS conference school the nod over a one-loss SEC, Pac-10, Big 12, or Big 10 school?  If recent history is any indication, there will be at least one undefeated school with a legitimate gripe come season’s end.

- Jim March