It's Not Called the Stanley Bidet

The Stanley Cup is the greatest trophy in sports. Even my father, who wasn't a hockey fan, was awed by this glorious chalice when he glimpsed it with his own eyes at the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto. So it's not really something you let your kid take a $#!+ in, Kris Draper. Yet that's exactly what happened last month while the Cup was in his possession.

Red Wings forward Kris Draper revealed during the weekend that his diaperless baby, Kamryn, did a number on the Cup last month. A number two, to be exact.

"A week after we won it, I had my newborn daughter in there, and she pooped in the Cup," Draper said. "That was something. We had a pretty good laugh.

"I still drank out of it that night, so no worries."

C'mon! No! No, no, no! He let his baby take a dump in the Stanley Cup? Where's your respect, Kris Draper? Hopefully, he took some rubbing alcohol, bleach, or Purell (or maybe just soap and water) to it afterwards.

I have a picture somewhere of my dad kissing the Cup. What's funny is that he thought he was getting away with it, behind the security guard's back. I was later told that you could kiss it, but couldn't hug it or try to pick it up. I'm just glad he planted his lips on the Cup before Draper's kid sat in it without a diaper. What do you think about this, Hayden Panettiere?

Bruce Pearl: A Leader of Men

University of Tennessee men's basketball head coach Bruce Pearl was already The Official Favorite Coach of Casselbloggy, Inc. for showing you can have a lot of fun while being also being successful. And you can't blame the man for being excited at halftime of last night's college basketball Thunderdome vs. Memphis, as his team was only down by one point despite his best player having a terrible shooting night. Fueled by adrenaline, Pearl did what just about every man in America would like to do: Hug Erin Andrews.



Well played, Coach. You continue to be a heroic figure in my world. Oh, by the way, the Volunteers went on to win the game, beating the #1 Tigers, 66-62.

(via The Big Lead)

Why Tom Izzo is Cooler Than John Beilein

Nothing against John Beilein (nice win over Ohio State yesterday, Coach), but here's an example of why Michigan State will dominate the state's hoops scene as long as Tom Izzo is their head coach:



I'm glad a journalist finally asked Coach Izzo what he thought of Jay-Z's "H to the Izzo." I've been wondering about that for years. How come Jay Bilas never tackled that subject?

Can you see Beilein being that kind of a sport? (No way Tommy Amaker would've been.)

Rich Rodriguez, on the other hand, would probably be game for a sit-down with Ron Burgundy (though an interview with Lloyd Carr would've been a hell of a lot funnier).

(via Awful Announcing)

A Glimpse Into Michigan's Football Future

The NFL playoffs should provide some good football this weekend, but if you're going through a bit of withdrawal now that the college football season is over, maybe a brief coaching tutorial can give you a fix.  And if you're a Michigan football fan, some Rich Rodriguez coach-em-up should get you excited about the future.

(If you're a West Virginia football fan, like Wabi-Sabi, this might make you want to smash something.  Sorry, Jim - I had to post something this week.)



Here's another one if you like enjoy some dry-erase board football.

Oh, Saturdays are going to be interesting in Ann Arbor this fall.

(via MGoBlog)

Enjoy That Ride Into the Sunset, Coach

I'm hoping to write more about Lloyd Carr and his retirement later this week.  But for now, that was one hell of an effort his Michigan Wolverines displayed earlier today in Orlando, winning a game that looked like an inevitable beating.

Michigan 41, Florida 35.  I've never been more happy to be wrong about football.  The offense was creative and the defense was aggressive, both of which Michigan football fans have been yearning for.  It was obvious how much the team wanted to win for Coach Carr today.  And I'm happy that a good man was able to go out on a high note.



If you watched that video, ask yourself how many successful big-time college football coaches are asking their players to "vow right now" that they'll finish their degrees.  Perhaps I'm being unfair to most coaches, but that seems like the end of an era to me.  And maybe that's all that needs to be said about Lloyd Carr's tenure at Michigan.


Congratulations, Coach.  I wish my father had been sitting next to me when your players carried you off the field.  What a touching moment.  Thanks for giving us one last memory to relish before Michigan football heads into the future.

Fear and Loathing in Detroit: Sports Reporters vs. Sports Bloggers

And here I thought I was having plenty of fun yesterday, watching college football while zonked out on muscle relaxers for my frighteningly aching back.  While spending the day away from the computer, lying flat in the blissful state of a relatively flexible and painless lower back, it appears that a column written by the Detroit News' Chris McCosky had much the same effect on the Detroit sports blogosphere as tossing a molotov cocktail through the window of an unsuspecting home during family dinnertime.

This was brought to my attention by The Detroit Tigers Weblog's Billfer, so I'll begin by linking to his retort to McCosky's column.  I don't know if I'm quite as outraged as Bill, but it's definitely amusing that a prominent member of the local sports media apparently feels so threatened by bloggers that he deems it necessary to explain why his work should be considered more credible, going so far as to remind his readers that he actually went to school to learn his trade.

Journalism employs trained professionals.  We actually have to go to school for this stuff.  We take our jobs seriously.  There are rules and standards that we are beholden to.  There are ethics involved.  We actually talk to, in person, the people we write about.  If we rip somebody in an article, you best be sure most of us will confront that person the next day and take whatever medicine we need to take.

Just so you know where I'm coming from on this, I went to school to study journalism too, and have some experience working as a credentialed member of the media.  Some of that work included exchanging e-mails with Mr. McCosky for a Detroit Pistons season preview that I wrote for a magazine last year.  (And even back then, he railed against the sports talk radio/message board culture that was apparently making him chase stories he felt he shouldn't have to.)

Maybe that's made me more reverential toward the media than I should be.  I know beat writers, especially, put in long hours at the arena or ballpark pursuing the latest newsworthy information.  They also have to cull that material - most of which isn't usually very revelatory or compelling - into something readable while working on a tight deadline, which can be pretty stressful work.

However, a lot of "reporting" is also watching a game and recounting what happened for the next morning's paper.  They saw it, you saw it, and I saw it.  Would our accounts of the same event that we all just witness really differ that greatly?  Of course not.  The only difference is that the media can go down to the locker room directly after the game and ask Jim Leyland why he didn't take Jason Grilli out after he loaded the bases or ask Grilli why he threw four straight balls when there wasn't an open base.

But really, how often is the answer to that question really informative?  And how often is the person asking that question really going to challenge his or her subject when he knows he's getting a flat, meaningless response?  If Leyland dismisses a question with "It was the right call, and I'd make it every time," how often is a simple "Why?" the follow-up query?  How often does the mainstream media really take advantage of the access and opportunity that McCosky touts as the shiniest badge of honor for his profession?

I'm not saying it's easy.  To ask a sharp, probing question face to face, and risk an angry response that could affect everyone else trying to do his or her job in that clubhouse, can be a difficult situation to deal with.  I've had Dmitri Young, post-rehab, tell me to my face that he wasn't talking.  And I didn't push the issue because it wouldn't have mattered.  He didn't play in that particular game, and I was just looking for an easy interview to post on my magazine's website.  Maybe I should've pushed it, but I didn't want the fledgling magazine I was working for to lose its credential because of my grandstanding.

I don't think a beat writer for one of the city's two major metropolitan newspapers is going to have the same problem.  Would the Pistons really ban the Detroit News from the locker room or press row because one of the players got angry at its reporter?  I seriously doubt it.  Yet many writers act as if such a penalty could be incurred.

Go ahead and boast that you have to face a player or coach the day after bashing him in print.  But that same boast is also frequently used as a shield to justify not asking tougher questions in the first place.  ("Hey, I have to work with these people every day.  I'm not pissing them off to make my job miserable.")

I've probably spent far too long on that particular point, so let's move on.

With blogging and Web sites, it seems the hard work, standards, accountability, courage all of that is bypassed.  Who needs to study this stuff, or attend games, or conduct interviews when you can just sit in your basement and clack out whatever comes through your head, right?  If I rip somebody, or if I get something wrong, who cares?  Nobody will see me.

This is ridiculously reductive.  To McCosky, it "seems" the hard work is bypassed because he apparently didn't look at much to back up his unsubstantiated assertion.  Study what "stuff" exactly?  If Billfer devotes a post to hitters' spray charts or Lee Panas writes about runs created by position, did no amount of work go into that?  Did they just conjure that information out of thin air?  No, they looked far deeper into the game than any member of the mainstream baseball media.  And they did so because the information provided by those who are ostensibly the be-all, end-all authority on sports reporting doesn't tell enough of the story.

That brings up the ugly truth about the sports blogosphere that the mainstream media doesn't want to acknowledge.  They created us.

Fans are increasingly not getting what they want and need from the conventional outlets of newspaper, TV, or radio.  So we, as readers and fans, are either going to seek out the kind of information that's more in line with our thinking, that gives us another way of looking at the game, or just create that material ourselves.  Along the way, we might even find something that we hadn't previously considered, and that feeling of discovery is a refreshing bit of flavor among all the gruel we're consistently served these days.  And if many other fans weren't beginning to feel that way, McCosky wouldn't have felt it necessary to explain that his job is more important than our hobby.

Furthermore, if we "get something wrong," we're most certainly held accountable.  Not only by our readers, but by other bloggers.  It's why there's a comment section at the end of every post, so that readers can offer up an immediate response to something they agree or disagree with, a luxury conventional media hasn't offered them until relatively recently - likely in an attempt to keep pace with new media.  Maybe that's another reason McCosky's so miffed at bloggers.  Maybe his editors are suddenly asking him to keep up with an outlet that's providing a much quicker fix than the next morning's newspaper.

I want my writing to be taken seriously, so if I write that I believe Brad Wilkerson should be the Detroit Tigers' left fielder next season, I'm going to do everything I can to support that belief.  Otherwise, why should anyone bother to read any of my material?  Nothing's more humbling (and embarrassing) than being called out by a reader who can collapse your argument with a simple breath.  No one understands how precious one's time is than those who invested their own into something almost purely out of love and interest.  Those who don't take their work that seriously won't be getting much more of anyone's time.  We don't receive the benefit of the doubt that many attribute to anything that's in print.

But while we're talking about what's in print, let's address another McCosky assertion:

Bloggers are having a field day speculating on how Joel Zumaya really injured his shoulder.  Nobody believes a heavy box fell on him.  So the Internet is rife with stories about how he fell off his dirt bike.

There is not a single Detroit Tigers blog that posted this rumor about Joel Zumaya injuring his shoulder while dirt-biking.  And if I'm wrong about that, McCosky didn't bother to point me to where I'd find this theory.  As far as I can tell, the closest anyone came to that was me addressing that conspiracy theories were being floated out there and linking to a couple of places where such rumors could be found.  I also said that such conjecture was irrelevant.  And do you know what opened the door to such a subject being approached in the first place?  An article by McCosky's colleague at the Detroit News, Lynn Henning:

The details of Zumaya's mishap, and the long lapse between the incident and Thursday's disclosure, raised at least as many questions as were answered.

That was in print.  In a newspaper.  Speculation.  By a professional journalist.  And message boards and commenters ran off from there.  No blogger created that.  Yet apparently, we're all swimming in the same cesspool that McCosky used to soak the brush he's painting the Detroit sports blogosphere with.  This is exactly the type of irresponsible conduct he's charging sports bloggers with carrying out.  And it didn't even happen.  How's that for accountability?

Finally, McCosky proves just how original his thinking really is with the same old, tired shot that all those who find themselves threatened by new media love to take:

But you do have to know most reporters at legitimate news sources work hard to deliver fair, accurate and pertinent information.

And what they do is vastly different than what the clever dude in his pajamas is doing on his computer, down in his basement.

This is right up there with saying that Detroit sports fans still light cars on fire when they're celebrating a championship, the old stand-by writers from other cities pull out whenever their teams are playing one of ours.  It's a throwaway comment that's actually easy, thoughtless hackery.  Should I now make a crack about freeloading sportswriters gorging on complimentary food in the media lounge?  (And the food provided on McCosky's beat at the Palace of Auburn Hills is pretty good.)

I'm also offended because I'm typing this in my home office (which happens to be on an upper level of my house) while wearing a sweatshirt and jeans.  That's pretty much the same thing your sportswriting colleagues wear, based on my personal experience.  The pajamas went in the hamper before I took a shower this morning.  Get your facts straight like they taught you in school, McCosky.  Well... at least he called us "clever."  Maybe that's what McCosky was trying to be here, and this was just some poorly executed attempt at satire.

It's baffling to me how writers like Chris McCosky get so defensive about this stuff.  Ask most sports fans where they get their news, or how they caught up on last night's game.  A majority of them will still probably say the newspaper.  And if they do read sports blogs, they still know who was on the scene to report on events as they occurred.  They hear who's called an "insider" on the radio each week.  They see who ESPN puts on the air as "experts."

So why feel so threatened?  Why act like old man Tom Smykowski in Office Space, having to explain his job to that consultant, Bob Slydell, so he doesn't get laid off?  ("Can't you understand that?  What the hell is wrong with you people?")  Is it because he sees his job changing, and doesn't like it?  Is he having to chase rumors or write website material that you previously didn't have to?  Are bloggers suddenly getting more credit than he thinks they should?  (And if that's the case, let me know where that credit's being handed out, because I think a lot of us would love some of that.)

Maybe that's something he can address in print, after talking to some of the bloggers he criticized.  You know, in person.  Or even via e-mail.  As an accountable professional journalist is supposed to, upholding the standards and ethics he or she was taught in school.  Or is it just easier to attack and move on?

If This is the New World Order, I Want the Old World Back

Is there any chance the entire Michigan football season can be moved over to Big Ten Network? Because I'm not sure I want to watch this anymore.


With Comcast not carrying BTN (Dear Comcast, I no longer want it), I tuned in and out of the game on the radio. Why wasn't I planted in a chair, as I would've been had the game been on TV? Well, I don't think my brain would've been able to handle the lack of visual stimulation. Why didn't I try to watch at a local sports bar? 1) I thought I'd have to shoehorn myself in, and 2) Um... I really didn't think it'd be a big deal if I missed this game. (I don't think I was the only one.)

Anyway, when I got back in the car after lunch and drove to my next stop on the errand run, I thought I heard Frank Beckmann say the score was "Appalachian State 28, Michigan 14." And if you were behind a green Honda Civic going north on Carpenter Rd. around 1:30 p.m., I apologize if I nearly caused you to get into an accident.

I stuck pretty close to the radio after that. And Michigan began chipping away at that lead, apparently remembering that football also requires you to play defense, while asserting some authority with the running game. Eventually, this rift in the space-time continuum would correct itself and order would be restored. Right?

When Mike Hart ran down, then across the field for a 54-yard touchdown (reminiscent of his famous high school run), I - and I'm sure most other Michigan football fans - figured the nightmare was over, and the Wolverines would pull out the win we all expected. Sure, we'd vent our outrage on sports talk radio, the blogosphere, and anyone within the sound of our voices for the next couple of days, while catching $#!+ from fans around the country, but we'd take it like men and shake it off. But then Michigan failed to convert a two-point conversion, which was a reminder that nothing was going right today. (Penalties, fumbles, interceptions, not enough men on the field, etc. And can we now agree that you should never go for two until you absolutely have to?)

Still, Michigan had the lead - albeit one as thin as rice paper - and I stretched out on the sofa, intending to take a nap. I had to save my strength for all the post-game agonizing on WTKA later on. Just as I began to fall into that sweet slumber, my cell phone jolted me awake. It was my buddy, Eric.

"Your dad is turning over in his grave right now, wouldn't he?"

Say what? I actually slept through the Mountaineers regaining the lead at 34-32 with a field goal. Just as I shook the cobwebs out and began to think clearly again, I heard Beckmann's call of Jason Gingell's field goal attempt being blocked, followed by his declaration that ArmageddonAppalachian State had just pulled off the biggest upset in the history of Michigan football.


I have to be honest. I really wasn't sure if I was awake or not when I heard that final score. I've had these sorts of nightmares while falling asleep during an early season snoozer against a non-conference opponent. I can only imagine what a slurring mess I sounded like on the phone.

(And while I'm being honest, I had to look up the name of Michigan's place-kicker before typing it out in the previous paragraph, because I had no idea who their kicker was until his field goal was blocked. Sorry - Being nose-deep in baseball blogging for the past five months has me behind on my football stuff.)

Right now, I'm kind of wishing I'd stayed asleep. Because every highlight and mention of this humiliation feels like a body blow. Of course, it should be mentioned over and over, because this sort of thing isn't supposed to happen. And if it happened to any other college football program in this country, I'd be delighting in the fall of a titan and figuratively hoisting Appalachian State on my shoulders. And I wasn't even pronouncing "Appalachian" correctly until my sister - who will soon move to nearby Asheville, NC - straightened me out this morning.

Obviously, applause is due to the Mountaineers. Throughout the winter, spring, and summer, this game was derisively mocked by Michigan fans as an embarrassment of scheduling. And a Big Ten team really shouldn't be playing a Division I-AA school. But as the defending two-time I-AA national champions, Appalachian St. shouldn't have been considered a pushover. Before the game was even played, they were probably a better opponent than, say, Eastern Michigan.

But this is what it is. For years, even when Michigan posted 8-4 seasons, there was consolation in the Wolverines never suffering a humbling fall from grace that other acclaimed programs such as Oklahoma, Notre Dame, USC, Penn State, and Miami (FL) had. But that vicious cycle appears to have finally turned on Michigan.


It's easy to say now, in lieu of a mortifying upset loss, and after I hadn't posted anything on this 2007 team leading up to this season opener, but I felt like Michigan was being overrated in pre-season polls. When talking college football with my sister's future father-in-law - a Tennessee Volunteers fan - a couple of weeks ago, I told him that I couldn't believe the Wolverines were being ranked #5. What were they seeing that I wasn't? Granted, I hadn't been paying close attention, but didn't this team lose a bunch of defense to graduation? And that was woefully apparent today.

This is the kind of loss that has to make Michigan re-evaluate the way its football program is run. I've always been a defender of Lloyd Carr, but the Rose Bowl debacle against USC planted a seed of doubt for the first time. That, of course, followed a hugely disappointing loss to Ohio State. And now this. Three straight losses isn't just a slump. There's no such thing in college football. Not for an elite program. This is a trend, a pattern of being horribly unprepared for games, with an increasingly obvious refusal to adjust offensive and defensive philosophies toward what the opponent requires.

Something has to change. And not just for this season. Just one game in, there's plenty of time to straighten things out for this particular team. But the long-term interests of the Michigan football program might require a fundamental overhaul.

Who is the Face of the Detroit Tigers?

A little while ago, the folks at ESPN.com SportsNation asked me if I would be interested in participating in a series called "Face of the Franchise," in which four panelists selected their choice for the best current representative of a Major League Baseball team. The panel would consist of a writer from ESPN.com, a beat writer or columnist from that team's city, an analyst from "Baseball Tonight," and a team-specific blogger.

After briefly wondering if someone was pulling a joke on me (and doing the requisite Google search), I said "Hell yeah, I'd be interested" and started thinking hard about my choice. And when I say "thinking hard," I mean agonizing over it, like Rob in High Fidelity when the reporter asked him what his top five favorite songs were. This was going down for posterity. My name would be on this. My Tigers fan (and blogger) credibility would be at stake.

The only rule I had to follow was that my choice had to be currently associated with the team. I couldn't pick an old-timer like Ty Cobb or Al Kaline, or any of the players I grew up watching, like Alan Trammell or Kirk Gibson. A few choices came to mind right away, and I began to consider whether or not I could write an interesting paragraph on this person, and the likelihood that he could be chosen by the other panelists.

I also asked a handful of friends who they would pick as the face of the Detroit Tigers, but no clear choice stood out. Actually, that was kind of reassuring. I wasn't just being anal-retentive or indecisive.

Then I imposed a couple of my own rules. 1) My pick had to be a player. An manager, owner, or broadcaster could certainly be the face of a team. But in my mind, fans don't go to the ballpark or switch the game on because of a manager or owner. Players get us excited; they're the ones we watch. 2) Casual fans, or even people who don't follow sports had to be aware of who the player is. I probably didn't follow this rule very closely because it somewhat conflicted with the first rule. For instance, if I ask my mother about the Tigers, she'd probably mention their manager, Jim Leyland. And if I consulted a non-fan like Mis Hooz, she likely wouldn't name anyone. But if I talked to baseball fans in other cities, who might they name?

After considering all these factors, I'm not sure that my choice ended up being any different from who I was leaning toward in the first place. If you've been reading BYB regularly, you can probably guess who I picked as the face of the Tigers. But you can read the official pick here, along with those of Rob Neyer, Jon Paul Morosi, and Eric Young (whose pick will go up tomorrow).

So who would you guys vote for? Who do you think is the current face of the Detroit Tigers? It'll be much more fun to see who the fans choose, and if we'd reach any kind of consensus.

Do Not Push Scott Olsen's Buttons

Whenever I see that a player was suspended for "insubordination," I'm intrigued. Usually, we find out the "insubordination" was something like arriving to the ballpark late or cutting in line for the post-game food spread. But once in a while, something good pops up.

It seems the Marlins' Scott Olsen isn't the easiest gent to get along with. During his three-year major league career, Olsen has gotten punched in the face by one teammate, poked in the head by another, and been grabbed by the front of his jersey by his manager.

So what was the latest incident that forced the Marlins to suspend Olsen for two games? Well, he got into a spat with Sergio Mitre in the dugout. But hey, that happens. Boys will be boys. Sometimes, guys are so competitive that they can't keep that energy restricted to the field. That's probably what this was all about, right?

Eyewitnesses, who asked not to be identified, said Mitre was trying to calm Olsen, who was upset over a broken button on his uniform top.

Um... wow. Was his belly button showing or something like that?

I guess if you're Olsen's dry cleaner, you should watch out.

You're Still the Man, Rickey!

Just when I thought I'd be starved of non-Tigers material to post here until football season began, Rickey Henderson comes to the rescue. With the news that Rickey has been hired as the new hitting coach for the New York Mets, I thought I'd blow the dust off something I wrote more than two years ago after Rickey signed with the San Diego Surf Dawgs.

Most of this post will be relatively common knowledge to baseball fans, but this was for my personal blog, and people didn't seem too interested when I wrote about sports over there. Look where that got me.

But I love hearing Rickey Henderson stories, even if they're not true, and wanted to post something about them. One story that wasn't included is something I heard from Harold Reynolds about a month ago on MLB.com's Fantasy 411 show. A lot of you have probably heard this one, but it was new to me.

For a 12-year span through the 1980's and into the early 90's, Rickey owned the American League stolen base crown. The one year he didn't get it was 1987, when he played in only 95 games because of a hamstring injury. So Harold Reynolds was the final season leader with 60 steals. And after the season, he got a phone call from someone:

"Hello?"
"Reynolds! This is Rickey."
"Oh, hey Rick."
"60 steals, huh?"
"Yeah, I can't believe it. It was amazing."
"60?! Rickey had 60 at the All-Star Break!"
**CLICK**

Awesome. Okay, let's take the Wayback Machine to 2005 for more of Rickey being Rickey.

# # # # #
Yesterday, 46-year-old Rickey Henderson signed with a minor-league baseball team, the San Diego Surf Dawgs, in yet another attempt to prolong his athletic career. And what a career it's been. I'd argue Henderson is one of the best baseball players I've ever seen. He could seemingly do everything on the field. He's Major League Baseball's all-time leader in career stolen bases and runs scored, holds the record for most stolen bases in a season, and had the most career walks until Barry Bonds passed him in 2001.

He's the greatest. Just ask him.
But Henderson is probably best known for his eccentric personality and an ego that a ballpark could barely contain. There have been some great stories attached to Henderson over the years, many of which were retold in response to yesterday's news.

Immediately after breaking Lou Brock's stolen base record, the Oakland Athletics held an on-field ceremony commemorating the occasion. Rickey ended a relatively gracious speech by saying, "Lou Brock was the symbol of great base stealing. But today, I'm the greatest of all time. Thank you."

Henderson often referred to himself in the third person. He once called the general manager of a baseball team, looking for a job, and said, "Rickey wants to play another year and he thinks he wants to play for you."

While playing for the San Diego Padres late in his career, Henderson got onto the team bus and was looking for a seat. A teammate, Steve Finley, said, "Sit anywhere you want, you got tenure."

Rickey's response? "Ten years? What are you talking about? Rickey got 16, 17 years."

This one apparently isn't true, but it's so funny that it should be: While playing for the Seattle Mariners, Rickey approached John Olerud, who wears a batting helmet on the field because of a brain aneurysm he suffered, and said "I used to play with a dude in New York who did the same thing."

Olerud's response? "That was me." Olerud and Rickey had previously played together with the New York Mets and Toronto Blue Jays.