Quite some time ago I mentioned that I'd be handing out the First Annual Brainsplotch Big Ten Football Awards. Unfortunately, life kind of got in the way and I have both neglected this blog and NOT given out the awards. Knowing how much it means to the Big Ten, I am back to hand out these much coveted "virtual trophies."
Most valuable player--Shonn Greene, Iowa
Best Running Back--Shonn Greene, Iowa (Javon Ringer, Evan Royster, and Chris "Beanie" Wells close behind)
Best Quarterback--Daryll Clark, Penn State
Best Wide Receiver--Arrelious Benn, Illinois (not a real standout year for receivers)
Best Kicker--Brett Swenson, Michigan State
Best Defensive Player (sorry, I don't feel like breaking this down by position)--James Laurinaitis, Ohio State
Coach of the Year--Mark Dantonio, Michigan State (sure, call me a homer, but I give Dantonio the nod slightly over Pat Fitzgerald of Northwestern. Getting MSU to a 6-2, third place finish in the Big Ten in just his second year, and changing the culture and attitude of the program in the meantime, is enough for me to give this award to Dantonio).
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Lions make a date with immortality
I've resisted writing about the Detroit Lions for most of this year because there seemed to be very little point. With the success of Michigan State's football team this season, my sporting world this fall was occupied solely by the Spartans. Thankfully, the Lions' disastrous season has been, for me, merely a sideshow. However, now with the very real possibility of the NFL's first ever 0-16 season only one loss away, how could I possibly resist discussing this most pathetic of pro sports franchises.
What's particularly stupendous about the Detroit Lions' ineptitude is that the National Football League does everything in its power to make sure there is parity in the league. But even with profit-sharing, easy schedules for weak teams, and all the other various checks-and-balances put in in place by the NFL to guarantee competitiveness, the Lions have managed to set a new standard in awfulness.
This terrible season is simply the culmination of the disastrous Matt Millen era. The house of cards that Millen spent eight years constructing is finally completely collapsing in the worst way imaginable.
I was going to write about the Detroit News' Rob Parker making the comment about Rod Marinelli's daughter not marrying a smart defensive coordinator (if you're a football fan, you know what I'm referring to--if not, just google "Rob Parker Rod Marinelli"and you'll find out all you need to know), but now that sports talk radio and everyone else has beaten that story to death, there doesn't seem much point in my lame-o Brainsplotch blog beating that dead horse. All I really have to say regarding Rob Parker's comment is that seems to be his modus operandi: say or write something inappropriate or untrue about someone and then spend the next day trying to cover your butt. He did the same thing with the Kirk Cousins fiasco in October, and now with his out-of-line comment about Marinelli's daughter and son-in-law.
Look, I'm not trying to say that Rod Marinelli deserves a group hug or anything. The guy is coaching quite possibly the worst NFL team in history. He should get grilled and deserves to be asked tough questions since it's part of the job when one is a coach at the professional level. I just think that journalists should leave personal attacks out of the equation. Even if Rob Parker meant it as a "joke," it certainly didn't come across as one.
Okay, I have spent way too much time writing about something that, a week from now, nobody will even be talking about or even remember, for that matter.
Count me as one those Lions fans who hopes the Lions lose this Sunday and set the all-time NFL record for futility. The way I see it, the only way anything is likely to change for the better with the Lions is if the organization is humiliated at a national level. William Clay Ford needs to ask himself: Is this the legacy I want to leave behind? He needs to seek help from people who know how to win, people with a proven track record (i.e., front office personnel from the New England Patriots, New York Giants, Dallas Cowboys, and a few others). Unfortunately, based on Mr. Ford's own track record, it's hard to believe that this will ever happen.
What's particularly stupendous about the Detroit Lions' ineptitude is that the National Football League does everything in its power to make sure there is parity in the league. But even with profit-sharing, easy schedules for weak teams, and all the other various checks-and-balances put in in place by the NFL to guarantee competitiveness, the Lions have managed to set a new standard in awfulness.
This terrible season is simply the culmination of the disastrous Matt Millen era. The house of cards that Millen spent eight years constructing is finally completely collapsing in the worst way imaginable.
I was going to write about the Detroit News' Rob Parker making the comment about Rod Marinelli's daughter not marrying a smart defensive coordinator (if you're a football fan, you know what I'm referring to--if not, just google "Rob Parker Rod Marinelli"and you'll find out all you need to know), but now that sports talk radio and everyone else has beaten that story to death, there doesn't seem much point in my lame-o Brainsplotch blog beating that dead horse. All I really have to say regarding Rob Parker's comment is that seems to be his modus operandi: say or write something inappropriate or untrue about someone and then spend the next day trying to cover your butt. He did the same thing with the Kirk Cousins fiasco in October, and now with his out-of-line comment about Marinelli's daughter and son-in-law.
Look, I'm not trying to say that Rod Marinelli deserves a group hug or anything. The guy is coaching quite possibly the worst NFL team in history. He should get grilled and deserves to be asked tough questions since it's part of the job when one is a coach at the professional level. I just think that journalists should leave personal attacks out of the equation. Even if Rob Parker meant it as a "joke," it certainly didn't come across as one.
Okay, I have spent way too much time writing about something that, a week from now, nobody will even be talking about or even remember, for that matter.
Count me as one those Lions fans who hopes the Lions lose this Sunday and set the all-time NFL record for futility. The way I see it, the only way anything is likely to change for the better with the Lions is if the organization is humiliated at a national level. William Clay Ford needs to ask himself: Is this the legacy I want to leave behind? He needs to seek help from people who know how to win, people with a proven track record (i.e., front office personnel from the New England Patriots, New York Giants, Dallas Cowboys, and a few others). Unfortunately, based on Mr. Ford's own track record, it's hard to believe that this will ever happen.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
You're Gonna Miss Me--Roky Erickson
Friday night, when I woke up at about 1 AM and couldn't get back to sleep, I did what I usually do when I suffer from insomnia and turned on the tube. As fate would have it, the Sundance Channel was just about to air "You're Gonna Miss Me," a documentary on legendary '60s acid casualty Roky Erickson.
In case anyone out there doesn't know, Roky Erickson was singer for the '60s psychedelic rock band The 13th Floor Elevators and also did some great stuff in the seventies, despite being institutionalized for three years from about 1969 to 1972. (My chronology might be off, but I don't feel like checking my facts right now).
The only Roky Erickson I currently have in my music collection is the 13th Floor Elevators' first album, "Psychedelic Sounds of..." It's the CD issue released by Varese Sarabande and, not only is the title misspelled, but the sound quality is abysmal. From what I've read, the original master tapes have been lost or are simply unavailable, so we're stuck with crappy recordings like this.
I once had a great compilation on cassette of Roky Erickson's seventies output with his band, the Aliens (along with some solo stuff). It was called, appropriately, "You're Gonna Miss Me: The Best of Roky Erickson" and I picked it up as a cut-out in the bargain bin of Meijer. (For those readers unfamiliar with the Great Lakes area, Meijer is a large regional supermarket chain). I was extremely proud of that purchase, but unfortunately it was lost in what I now refer to as "The Great Cassette Purge of 2002."
The best way for me to describe Roky's seventies music is this: it sounds a bit like Creedence after a really, really, really bad acid trip. Picture John Fogerty singing about "two-headed dogs" and "creatures with atom brains" and you kind of get the general idea.
The best way for me to describe Roky's seventies music is this: it sounds a bit like Creedence after a really, really, really bad acid trip. Picture John Fogerty singing about "two-headed dogs" and "creatures with atom brains" and you kind of get the general idea.
I won't go into excessive detail about the documentary--just google the title and you'll find all you need to know. If anyone out there is a fan of Roky Erickson, psychedelic '60s music, or really enjoyed the documentary "Crumb," I'd highly recommend this documentary. At the crux of the film is the "custody battle" for Roky between his youngest brother, Sumner, and his mother Evelyn. But the film is so much more than that, it's a fascinating and at times disturbing view of the life of a mentally disturbed but gentle and still creative man.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
My Facebook obsession
I've got it bad for Facebook, and I don't know if there is a cure.
Around the same time I started this blog, I opened up a Facebook account. My rationale was innocent enough: I found an old college acquaintance of mine who was on Facebook and the only way for me to get back in touch with him was through Facebook.
After a few days, though, I saw all the little things you can do on Facebook--become a fan of so-and-so, upload pictures, continually revise and update your profile (as if anyone really reads that anyway) and, of course, search and search and search for people.
Now it seems I'm on Facebook first thing every morning, and first thing when I get home from work. I've become obsessed with checking my in-box, checking other peoples' updates, checking to see if anyone has commented on my status, etc. It is the worst time-suck ever invented--although, in its defense, I have re-connected with people I have not spoken to or seen in over 15 years.
So, tell me, is there a cure to Facebook obsession?
Around the same time I started this blog, I opened up a Facebook account. My rationale was innocent enough: I found an old college acquaintance of mine who was on Facebook and the only way for me to get back in touch with him was through Facebook.
After a few days, though, I saw all the little things you can do on Facebook--become a fan of so-and-so, upload pictures, continually revise and update your profile (as if anyone really reads that anyway) and, of course, search and search and search for people.
Now it seems I'm on Facebook first thing every morning, and first thing when I get home from work. I've become obsessed with checking my in-box, checking other peoples' updates, checking to see if anyone has commented on my status, etc. It is the worst time-suck ever invented--although, in its defense, I have re-connected with people I have not spoken to or seen in over 15 years.
So, tell me, is there a cure to Facebook obsession?
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