The Man With the Golden Arm

After three years away from the team that drafted him, Kerry Wood is making a return to the Chicago Cubs. In many ways, Wood is the symbol of everything that encompasses Cubs baseball. He represents the promise of what might be, what could be, what should be, but ultimately never is. He was drafted by the loveable losers out of high school in 1995 and made his major league debut just a few years later. As a 20 year old flame throwing right hander out of Texas, Wood featured a fastball in the upper 90’s and a breaking ball that defied the laws of physics. Invariably, he was already getting compared to Lonestar legends like Nolan Ryan and Roger Clemens.

In a performance that became the gift and curse of his career, Wood struck out 20 Houston Astros during his rookie year. Kid K was a man amongst boys on that dreary April afternoon despite the fact that he couldn’t grow anything more than peach fuzz. The scary thing was just how easy he made it look, seemingly never breaking a sweat. The batters simply stood no chance against a breaking ball that seemed to dance in mid air. From that point on, every Kerry Wood start became an event onto itself. There was an electricity that permeated the Friendly Confines when he took the mound. Fans didn’t want to miss their opportunity to see greatness, wearing their uniform. He went on to win the Rookie of the Year while tallying 13 wins along the way. Despite his unlimited potential, that would be his second highest win total of his career.

Following that magical 1998 season, which saw the Cubs winning the Wild Card, Kerry Wood needed Tommy John surgery and two missed seasons of rehab. The career of Kerry Wood ultimately became a cautionary tale about the dangers of overusing a young pitching phenom. He has made 14 trips to the Disable List in his 13 year career. His golden arm just couldn’t withstand the violent nature of pitching 200 innings a year.

Despite all of the heartache over his unfulfilled potential, Wood gave Cubs fans plenty of thrilling memories; That aforementioned 20 strikeout game, the series clinching performance against the Atlanta Braves in 2003, the home run that rocked the grandstand at Wrigley in the NLCS versus the Florida Marlins. In the end, like most Chicago Cubs stories, the saga of Kerry Wood was more about tragedy than triumph. More about injuries than induction ceremonies.

It’s sad, to see him in Cubs uniform, knowing what might have been. Yet, Wood desperately wanted to come back to Chicago. He took less money to do so. He returns to the city to that embraced him as a 20 year old folk hero while living and dying with every walk, strikeout and injury along the way. One can only hope that a happy ending exists to this story. Maybe, and almost certainly, it won’t be a fairy tale finish with a Word Series title. But I’d settle for a slow walk from the mound, a tip of the hat and a standing ovation from the fans that always believed in him, even when there was no rational reason to do so.

Opportunity Knocks

At the age of 23, Jon Scheyer has already accomplished more than most aspiring athletes could ever hope for; A state championship while starring for Glenbrook North, a legendary performance of scoring 21 points in 75 seconds and being awarded Mr. Basketball in the state of Illinois. Scheyer parlayed his prolific high school career into a full ride at Duke University, where he continued to play out every kid’s dreams. Playing in front the most frenzied fans in college basketball, he excelled for one the elite programs in the country. Before finishing his college career, Scheyer led Duke to a national championship while also being selected as a Second Team All American. While he had a highly decorated college career, questions remained about whether his success at Duke would translate to the pros. As is often the case, NBA scouts salivate over potential rather than production. The whispers began to circulate. Was he athletic enough to play at the next level? Did he have the quickness to defend point guards? Was he strong enough to withstand the pounding of an 82 game season?

When the last name was called on draft night, Scheyer remained undrafted. We’ve all probably had that feeling of waiting patiently and anxiously as we hope to get selected. For most of us though, it happens on a middle school playground. For Scheyer, it played out on national television with friends, family and fans watching. One can only imagine the empty feeling of going to bed that night, knowing that all he accomplished in college wasn’t enough to convince teams around the NBA. He became just another prospect, battling for a training camp invitation and the last spot on an NBA roster. While playing in Las Vegas with the Heat Summer League team, Scheyer took a hellacious elbow to the eye. He suffered nerve damage to his retina which required surgery and his summer league audition had ended. Perhaps the only worse than not being drafted, is never having a chance to prove you belong. Once he recovered from the surgery, Scheyer signed with LA Clippers and appeared in a few preseason games before being cut.

One week ago, Scheyer signed with the D-League affiliate of the Houston Rockets. So, the next stage in his NBA journey begins. The NBA Developmental league is all about hope. Young players hoping to prove themselves to the doubters that left them on the draft boards, former NBA players hoping to get back to the league they once experienced firsthand, and older guys just hanging onto lifelong aspirations while hoping their aging bodies have a little more left to give.

D Leaguers aren’t in it for the paycheck. If they cared about cash, they would sign lucrative deals to play internationally which would pay them more in one month than a full year in the D league. They aren’t in it for the glamour either. They play in cities like Fort Wayne, Baskersfield and Reno. They travel on busses rather instead of private jets.

Yet, for Scheyer, it has to feel pretty damn good just to be back. A gym can get awfully lonely when it’s just you and the buzzing sound of the lights. It can get pretty monotonous doing the same drill without the adrenaline and pressure of having the game on line. When he takes the floor for the Rio Grande Valley Vipers, there won’t be any Cameron Crazies bouncing up and down or national broadcasters convulsing with every made basket. But there will be an opportunity. And sometimes, an opportunity is all you can really hope for.

Kobe's Beef

Last night in Los Angeles, the best basketball players in the world took the floor for a meaningless annual exhibition known as the NBA All Star game. Per usual, most players looked disinterested from the outset, probably still recovering from a night out on the town the previous evening. Little defense was played, sloppy turnovers ensued and players showboated by attempting shots they would never dare to take in an actual game.(See Dwight Howard 20 foot jumper) One man, though, looked like he was on a mission from the jump. Playing in his home arena, Kobe Bean Bryant clearly wanted to give the fans a show while also reminding his fellow ballers that he’s not ready to ride off into the sunset just yet. Kobe flashed some reminders of his athletic explosiveness that won him a dunk contest in 1997. He demonstrated his vast offensive repertoire when he banked in a fade away jumper off the glass. He exhibited his Jordanesque competitive nature by outworking every player on the floor as evidenced by collecting 10 offensive rebounds. Simply put, Kobe Bryant cared about that game more than anyone else on the planet.

From the beginning of his career, Kobe seemingly wrestled with gaining acceptance from his peers and the public as a whole. Kobe just always seemed different. He grew up the son of an NBA player. He spent his formative years in Italy rather than an impoverished inner city like so many of his peers. He skipped the college experience for the bright lights of the NBA right out of high school. He never sported cornrows and didn’t get a single tattoo until the later part of his career. More than anything, he just never seemed like one of the guys. He tried to joke around with his teammates, but it just never seemed genuine and his personality as a whole just always felt contrived. When being interviewed it always seemed like he was trying to impersonate Michael Jordan rather than revealing his own personality.

While it’s a shame we may never get to know the real Kobe, that shouldn’t prevent us from appreciating the artistry of his game. He clearly studied the on court moves of Michael Jordan and has mastered many of those skills. It’s nearly impossible to watch Kobe without thinking of MJ-The follow through on the jump shot, the post up game, the fade away jumper and the desire to take the last second shot with the game hanging in the balance. He’s still playing at high level while many of his contemporaries have fallen off the map. Allen Iverson is playing in Turkey. Tracy McGrady is getting limited minutes in Detroit. Vince Carter is simply an afterthought. And there was Kobe, after 14 years in the league and countless minutes under his belt, he’s still one of the premier players in the game. Still trying to fight off the next generation of young guns looking to steal his crown.
Kobe may never get the acceptance that he’s been looking for. His peers may never embrace him as one of their own and the public may never view him in the same light as other beloved athletes. You don’t have to like him, but at least respect him. I sure do.

Longevity loses

Sporting heroes rarely make perfect exits. They may walk away too soon, leaving the fans wanting more and wishing for one last special performance. When Lions Running Back Barry Sanders retired, many questioned why he left so early and pondered whether he ever truly loved the game of football. Other legends, don’t know when to call it quits and our last memories of them are those we’d prefer to forget. It’s Michael Jordan missing a wide open dunk in a Washington Wizards uniform, Willie Mays stumbling around the outfield for the New York Mets and Brett Farve enduring a career ending sack. We wish Jordan could have walked away following his game winning shot that buried the Utah Jazz. While we admire the tenacity of these stars, we also would prefer that they leave on our terms. College coaching legends often deal with the same issues. There are annual calls for Joe Paterno to finally retire and constant speculation about when he’ll pass along the program to a successor.

Coaches in professional sports rarely have to worry about overstaying their welcome. Teams change coaches so frequently, it’s often hard to keep track of who’s coaching which franchise. Maybe it’s the negativity that festers on blogs and sports radio. Maybe it’s the unfair expectations of fans thinking that teams can turn things around overnight. Maybe it’s athletes that want to flex their muscles by having more input in who coaches their team. When turmoil hits, firing the coach is the easy way out. With star athletes making humongous salaries, owners can changes coaches far more cheaply than finding new players.

For the last 23 years, Jerry Sloan was the exception to the rule. He didn’t wear flashy Armani suits like Pat Riley and he never utilized meditation like Phil Jackson. The hardnosed Sloan brought the same intensity and ferocity to the bench that carried him during his playing career. He stayed true to his offensive principles of ball movement and defensive philosophy of tough man to man defense. He coached hall of famers like Stockton and Malone while overseeing the development of Deron Williams in recent years. Speculation has already begun that Williams and Sloan clashed this season which may be the cause of the divorce. In the end, there was no farewell tour for Sloan. There was no final speech to the Utah fans at center court in Salt Lake City. Sloan held a short, emotional press conference announcing his resignation. Sloan never was a quitter and to walk away in mid season had to be a bitter pill to swallow. This couldn’t be the exit that fans, media or Sloan had envisioned. But, for sports legends, perfect exits seemingly don’t exist.

Dirty Laundry

Comedian Jerry Seinfeld, a long suffering New York Mets fan, once famously proclaimed that modern sports fans really are just rooting for laundry. In his mind, due to the proliferation of free agency and the resulting player movement, fans could no longer get a sense of comfort with players. The moment you get a handle on the roster of your favorite team, the offseason hits and countless new players are added. Consequently, when fans are conjuring up images of their favorite teams, it’s often not about the current players. It’s the historic stadiums, the classic looking jerseys and announcers who’ve spent decades broadcasting games. While Seinfeld had free agency in mind when he made this statement, rooting for laundry also helps sports fans reconcile their difficulty in supporting players with checkered pasts and lingering legal issues. The Super Bowl featuring the Pittsburgh Steelers is a perfect example of this trend.

In case you haven’t heard, Steelers QB Ben Roethlisberger is no stranger to accusations of sexual assault. Big Ben was not charged in either case, but the details were enough to make anyone cringe. While some Pittsburgh fans were outraged for the shame that Roethlisberger brought upon their beloved franchise, the indignation has seemingly subsided. A few playoff wins and a Super Bowl trip your favorite team tend to do that. For those fans that haven’t resolved their hostility towards Roethlisberger, the rooting for laundry theory probably holds true. While they may not forgive him for his alleged indiscretions, they can hold their nose and still support their team they’ve spent decades cheering for. After all, fandom is generational and the people of Pittsburgh were fans of the franchise before Roethlisberger arrived and they’ll still be there after he’s long retired.

Throughout Super Bowl week, many members of the pen and mic club have been proclaiming that Roethlisberger is a changed man and this game is his shot at redemption. As is often the case, redemption is defined by wins and losses rather than behavior. Will sponsors be as quick to forgive Big Ben? If the Steelers win, will Disney use the star QB in their annual Disneyland Super Bowl commercials? I think it’s fair to say that the sponsors, will be more careful about hitching their wagons to the beleaguered QB than fans and media have been. The endorsement deals probably won’t be coming in for Roesthisberger until the American public, rather than just Steeler nation, buys into the entire redemption angle and I believe we’re still a long way away from that.

The Birth of Cool

Reflecting on our high school experiences conjures up all sorts of images and feelings. The nervousness we felt deciding where to sit in the cafeteria, the anxiety of trying out for the team and the butterflies in our stomachs before asking a girl to the dance. So much of the high school experience is trying to figure out what’s cool and doing whatever possible to attain that elusive label. Often times, it’s as arbitrary as the brand of jeans you wear or the haircut you sport. Shop at the wrong store and that girl from your biology class is now out of reach. When the previous fad dissipates and the new trend surfaces, it’s time to go shopping.(Hopefully alone because nothing screams cool like trying on clothes under the watchful eye of your mom, right?) While the focus on outside appearances is concerning, it’s certainly not as troubling as the current trend percolating in some high schools around the country.

As you may have heard, 90 students at Frayser High School in Memphis are either currently or recently pregnant. It’s unclear, at least to this point, whether there was some sort of pregnancy pact among students. The Frayser High School story is certainly not the first of its kind. In 2009, 115 students at Robeson High School in Chicago were either expecting or already had children.

So how did we arrive at a place where teen pregnancy became as trendy as Abercrombie jeans and North Face jackets? I’ll do my best to refrain from sounding like an old fogy that longs for the days of sock hops and drive in movies(Although, admittedly those do sound fun). That being said, I do think shows like Teen Mom on MTV are, at least, part of the problem. Can a teenager really comprehend the drastic effect that a pregnancy has on a family after watching a one hour show? Clearly, not everything can be blamed on pop culture. Are these girls at Frayser getting pregnant as a means of rebellion? Are their own fathers absent and are they desperate for some sort of attention from any male figure? There are no easy answers, but here’s to hoping that, in the future, the biggest casualty of being cool is being seen at the mall with our moms rather than crib shopping for adolescent parents.

The Battle of Brands

Last month in Glendale, Arizona, the two best college football teams (as determined by computers) met in the BCS National Championship game. The contest featured a fake punt, a fake extra point, a safety, a premature touchdown call by Brent Musberger(we weren’t looking live at a touchdown) and a last second field goal with time expiring which gave the Auburn Tigers their first national title in 53 years. With the confetti falling on Auburn players and coaches, you may have noticed a logo on their jerseys that didn’t immediately register in your mind. It wasn’t the ubiquitous Nike Swoosh adorned by the Oregon Ducks or the three stripes of Adidas.

For the first time in the history of the BCS championship game, one of the participants was sponsored by Under Armour. The company, founded in 1996 by a former Maryland football player, has had an increasing presence among weekend warriors and gym rats in recent years due to the form fitting, moisture resistant nature of the gear.
Nike chairman and Oregon grad Phil Knight was surely disappointed with the outcome of the game, but it’s safe to say he’s not shaking in his Nikes just yet. Under Armour doesn’t have sponsorship deals with athletes recognized only by one name(Kobe, Lebron, Tiger) or controversial commercials that generate talk around water coolers and dinner tables.

That being said, the company is certainly on the move. Earlier this year, they inked a multi-year deal with Tom Brady and their shoes are being worn by NBA player Brandon Jennings. Can they capitalize on the momentum that’s being built by these recent successes and what’s the best path for doing so? While Nike still reigns supreme over all other brands in sports, Under Armour, on a national stage, won the battle of brands on the scoreboard. The battle for supremacy in the marketplace, however, is a story that is still being written.