Thursday, May 1:
BALTIMORE -- They're gonna throw us outta town -- doesn't matter what town. So far, we've seen three ballgames and the visitors have won all three. Maybe the Washington Nationals can break that trend this evening when we check out their new ballpark. Here, Camden Yards is about the same, except for new scoreboards in centre field and in the right field wall. A very slim crowd for a matinee on an admittedly dull day marked by some light rain. But crowds have been down in Baltimore for a few years now and I'm sure it doesn't help having a new ballpark available to check out, about 45 minutes away.
The clouds went away when the game ended, leaving us with a rare treat. A late afternoon/early evening in the Inner Harbor of Baltimore, with clear skies and low humidity. Crabcakes for dinner, too, before the short drive to Washington this evening!
Friday, May 2:
WASHINGTON -- It's a lovely new ballpark they have here in Washington on the shores of the Potomac. Reminds me a little of Cincinnati's new park, except the seats are blue, not red. That is, except for one area in left-centre called the "red porch". But the field faces away from the river, not toward it as in Cincy. What you do see in all its glory beyond the left field line is the Capitol building. Pretty impressive. Slim crowd though, despite the new park and a nice evening for baseball. Too bad -- people missed a good game last night. The home team prevailed 3-2 in a dandy pitchers' duel. The game was in the books in just over two hours.
On the road back to Gotham now for a last visit to Yankee Stadium.
Saturday, May 3:
NEW YORK -- I will miss Yankee Stadium, but perhaps not as much as I think I will. After all, Yankee fans aren't going anywhere and I love them! Peppered throughout last night's frigid Yankee win over Seattle were comments like, "throw da damn ball," and "what the $@&# was that?!" Even the vendors have this "seen-it-all-before-and-ain't it-hell" attitude: "So-dah!! Ovahpriced ballpahk drinks! Cahbonated calories! Liquid Sugaaaah!" The people put me away.
With five games in five different ballparks in about 57 hours, there's been no time to post pictures. Sunday, at the latest. Back home today, courtesy of jetBlue, and back to work this evening, just in time to watch the Kentucky Derby on TV. I'm picking Colonel John. You heard it here first.
Sunday, May 4:
Thoroughbred racing at its best is a wonderful sport. And in Big Brown, winning so impressively from the outside post yesterday at Churchill Downs, the whispers will start: "Is HE the one?" There hasn't been a Triple Crown winner in 30 years -- since Affirmed in 1978. Thoroughbred racing at its worst is a terrible sport. And in Eight Belles, we (again) saw the tragic side to the sport of kings. The filly ran the race of her life, fooling the experts and finishing second, only to break down on the track with two broken ankles. She was euthanized on the spot. It was just two years ago that Barbaro, a runaway winner of the Derby, broke down at the start of the Preakness and was euthanized months later. These beautiful creatures are just babies, three-year-olds. And these breakdowns are happening with far too much frequency. Oh, and Colonel John? Sixth. Shows what I know.
Don Cherry was right. And so was Al Strachan. Grapes pointed out repeatedly that, in comparison to the Philadelphia Flyers, the Montreal Canadiens were soft. And Strachan made the most telling comment of all -- that the Habs were soft mentally in this series. But few expected Montreal to overachieve, which is exactly what they did in the regular season. The playoffs? A different game altogether and the Canadiens were thoroughly unprepared for the sacrifice it takes.
Manchester United did its part yesterday with a 4-1 win over West Ham. Chelsea must now answer Monday at Newcastle to pull even. Under Kevin Keegan, Newcastle has shown great signs of life, and they've done well at home against the Blues over the last half-decade. A Newcastle win, and the title is United's. And how great is it that the Champions League final is an all-England affair? United and Chelsea again. Just like Ali and Frazier, Nicklaus and Palmer and Affirmed and Alydar.
Monday, May 5:
And once again a team's season ends on a questionable call in overtime. First it was Washington, and now San Jose. Yes, it was 2:30 in the morning, and yes, I was keen on some sleep, but the four-overtime ending this morning left a bitter taste in my mouth. There's no question that the two penalties called in the overtime were legitimate fouls and I have no problem with the theory that "a penalty in the first period shouldn't be any different than one in overtime." But in both the Sharks-Stars game last night/today and the decisive Flyers-Capitals game, the officials had set their precedence by putting the whistles away in the late going and extra periods. By doing that, nothing short of aggravated assault should have been called. The refs should be invisible. In both games, they were front and centre.
I know, it's Monday now and no pics from the road trip yet. Tonight. I promise.
Tuesday, May 6:
Pictures from the road trip are all up. Click on the "what's new?" button from the home page and browse away!
The Detroit Tigers, after sweeping the Yanks in New York for the first time since 1966, have now lost four in a row, including a 7-6 stinker Sunday in Minnesota when they led 6-0 midway through the first inning. Many picked the Tigers to win the World Series, but here's a sobering thought: Since the all-star break last season, they're 50-and-58. Not exactly championship material.
Chelsea kept pace yesterday with a 2-0 win at Newcastle. So it all comes down to Sunday for the Premier League championship.
Friday, May 9:
There is no way on God's green earth the Detroit Red Wings will have a gift like that again. The Dallas Stars ran on nothing but fumes for all 60 minutes last night, gassed out from their four-overtime series-clinching win over San Jose Sunday night/Monday morning. Yes, the Stars had a few days to recover, but the Red Wings were very well rested after sweeping Colorado in round two. I would expect a far different Dallas team to show up for game two. If not, then this could be a quick series.
At least the Wings are giving Motown sports fans something to cheer about. The Pistons remain an enigma, talented but puzzling -- great one night, dreadful the next. The much-hyped Tigers are a fraud, now 51-and-60 since last summer's all-star break. And the Lions are no more than a lame punch line to a terrible half-century joke, now and forevermore.
Saturday, May 10:
I pride myself for having at least a passing grade when it comes to North American geography. It drives me nuts when American TV commentators say things like Toronto being located on the shores of Lake Erie. So, shame on me for suggesting the new Washington Nationals ballpark is placed along the shores of the Potomac. Wrong river. Despite the fact you can walk along Potomac Avenue directly south of the stadium, the river in question is the Anacostia. My bad.
Not long ago, I bemoaned the loss of my favourite cereals. Here's another breakfast treat I miss dearly -- cinnamon toast. Having cinnamon toast requires cinnamon bread. Every grocery store in the land carries cinnamon and raisin bread, but not cinnamon bread on its own. Yes, I could sprinkle some cinnamon on regular toast but it's not the same.
Sunday, May 11:
OK, here's the deal: If your mom is still with us and if she's close enough to visit, take the time to do so today. And make sure it's a lengthy heart-felt phone call or video conference, if she's not. There will come a time when Mother's Day comes along and all you have left are memories. Mine passed away more than a dozen years ago and of all the numerous time I miss her each and every year, I miss her most on this day and wish I had done more on past Mother's Days to spend time with her. And typical of most moms I've ever met, she would insist that I did more than enough. In my case, I could never have done enough. The debts to her I owe can never be repaid.
Maybe they turn into Jello at Joe Louis Arena, but the Dallas Stars are still mere shadows of themselves in the Stanley Cup West final. Last night's 2-1 loss in Detroit was far closer than it should have been. They had better turn it around, and quickly, in Texas.
If last night's game was an indication of how the Toronto Blue Jays will fare without Vernon Wells for the next couple of months, then it's going to be a long summer. His broken wrist puts the pressure on the rest of the team to perform and there wasn't much performing in their 12-0 loss at Cleveland.
Monday, May 12:
I was wrong -- and delightfully so -- in my assessment of the final two weeks of the English Premier League soccer season. Manchester United didn't blink after all, winning at home to West Ham and prevailing yesterday at Wigan to take their 10th league crown in 16 years. (!) Chelsea surrendered a late goal in a 1-1 home draw with Bolton to make it official, but had the two teams finished tied, United still would have finished first with a large goal differential. And the two rivals meet again in just nine days -- not, as you might expect, at Wembley for the FA Cup -- but for the European Champions League final. Seeing as the game is in Moscow, there's no way the Reds could lose to the Blues, could they?
Thursday, May 15:
Nope, the Detroit Red Wings weren't going to win them all, and on balance, Dallas deserved game four last night in Texas. But I would have loved to have seen how things unfolded if referee Kelly Sutherland hadn't incorrectly waved off the game's first goal, which would have given Detroit another lead. Yes, it's a judgment call, but Sutherland's judgment was pretty poor on that one. Gary Bettman was in the crowd. I guess the tiny, imperfect commissioner wanted to ensure at least one weekend matinee for his American television audience.
At least the play of the Red Wings (and Pistons, although I'm a Boston fan in basketball) is keeping Michiganders from suffering major heartburn over sport's biggest frauds, the Detroit Tigers, now 16-and-24 (.400, or 65-and-97 over a full season). Watching them try and hit in the ninth inning of their latest lost (2-0, last night in Kansas City) was sidesplittingly funny -- better than the best of Bugs Bunny. Or, at least would have been if it wasn't so pathetic. Since the quarter-pole isn't really a fair barometer of a season, lets go back to last year's all-star break. Since then, the Tigers are 52-and-63, a .452 clip. That's a trend folks, not a slump -- and over a full season, it works out to a 73-and-89 record. World Series contenders, my asterisk.
Now, how did we miss that? March 25th came and went and we failed to wish our musical favourite Aretha Franklin a happy 66th birthday. And we also let April 28th slip by without doing the same for another fave, Beverly Bivens, four years Aretha's junior. Stick me on a desert island with their singing voices and I'll be just fine. Well, maybe with a little water.
Friday, May 16:
Wow -- NBA fans are sure going home happy in round two. Home teams are 19-and-1 in the conference semifinals with only the Detroit Pistons bucking the trend -- and their road win was by the far-from-blowout score of 90-89 in Orlando. If the trend holds, then Cleveland and Utah will force game sevens with wins tonight.
Monday, May 19:
HAPPY VICTORIA DAY, CANADA! Please handle those fireworks with care!
You just knew, didn't you? As soon as the puck left Rick Nash's stick and headed up over the glass, you knew. The automatic delay of game penalty was like handing lighter fluid to an arsonist. Sure enough, Russia scored on the ensuing power-play, completing the comeback and winning the world hockey championship, 5-4 over Canada. And the power-play is what sunk Canada yesterday. They could have and should have buried Russia much earlier but failed when they had the best chances.
This might be the closest Memorial Cup tournament in years. Three one-goal games so far, two of them in overtime. If the rest of the week plays out the same way, it'll be one for the ages.
Thank heavens -- a safe Preakness for the horses involved. And now the whispers start about Big Brown. Is he "the one?" We haven't had a U.S. Triple Crown winner in 30 years. Something tells me we will this year.
I was moaning about the chilly Victoria Day weekend weather, until I realized that it's pretty much par for the course. The last two years were also on the frigid side. But it seems off that Toronto's getting "Vancouver weather" this weekend while B.C.'s lower mainland is basking in summer-like sunshine. That ain't fair! They already get flowers in February!
Wednesday, May 21:
So you're that rare breed -- a Detroit sports fan with some money to burn this Saturday night. What do you do? Buy a ticket for game one of the Stanley Cup final between the Red Wings and Pittsburgh at the Joe? Stay downtown but take in the Tigers game against Minnesota at the Copa? Cheaper but with far less return. Or the mid-priced option -- drive out to the 'burbs for game three of the Pistons' playoff against Boston at the Palace? I suspect many in Motown will just head to the nearest sports bar to watch all three.
Today's the day -- Manchester United vs. Chelsea in the European Champions League final at Moscow. Almost all of the omens point to United -- all except for the fact a Russian billionaire owns the Blues. But last week, a Russian team won the UEFA Cup final in Manchester. What's more, a team wearing red couldn't possibly lose in Russia, could it? And no, I didn't skip an entry yesterday just to have today's blog appear in red!
Thursday, May 22:
Yes, the Manchester United logo appears today on the home page and I'm thrilled at their third European championship. But while my emotion in 1999 at their stunning comeback victory over Bayern Munich in Barcelona was one of unbridled joy, my reaction yesterday was more in line with pure relief. Because luck was a huge part of their 6-5-on-penalty-kicks win over Chelsea, following 120 minutes of 1-1 football. United could have, should have been up 3-0 in the first half, but it ended 1-1. And the second half belonged entirely to Chelsea, who were denied by the woodwork as much as anything. Then, with penalty kicks even at four and holding the decisive last kick, came Chelsea's terrible luck in the driving rain. Blues captain John Terry had his name on the trophy along with his teammates when the worst thing possible befell him. Just as he was striking what would have been the game-winning kick, he slipped on the slick turf and the ball bounced off the far post, giving United new life. If his foot stays planted, Chelsea wins -- simple as that -- as goalie Edwin van der Sar had guessed wrong and was diving in the opposite direction. Don't get me wrong -- I'm delighted for United and for Calgary-born Owen Hargreaves, who scored a crucial goal in the penalty competition. I'm thrilled for veteran Ryan Giggs, who made his historic and record 758th appearance for United a memorable one by scoring what would turn out to be the winning penalty kick. Who did Giggs pass in appearances? None other than Sir Bobby Charlton, member of the 1966 England World Cup champions, captain of the 1968 Manchester United European champs and survivor of the Busby Babes, the memorable United side that was severely wiped out by a plane crash 50 years ago in Munich. Were there ghosts from that team showing up last night in Moscow to deny Chelsea? It's as good a theory as any. So, yes, I'm happy with United's win but I do feel sorry for Chelsea. They were just as deserving of glory and maybe more so.
Friday, May 23:
Won't I be bummed if the Pistons are the only Detroit team to win a championship this year?! It's the only Motor City team that I'm not really a fan of. I don't mind them -- I'm glad they won a couple of titles years ago. But my heart's NBA team is Boston, always has been. And now it's the Celtics who have to do some soul-searching, now that they've finally lost a home game in these playoffs. They're winless away from Beantown in the post-season but now they have to prevail in one of the three games at The Palace. Tomorrow night would be a fine time to start.
And does San Antonio recover from blowing a big lead the other night in Los Angeles? My guess is yes -- these guys are the defending champions and the closest thing the league has had to a dynasty for awhile. I still think the Spurs win in six.
Sunday, May 25:
I sure wish I was about 30 years younger so I could try my hand at playing goal in hockey again. Looks like a pretty cushy job these days. The current goaltender equipment makes the Michelin Man look like Ichabod Crane. And if anyone so much as waves a stick or a posterior in your direction, they get whistled for goaltender interference. At the risk of sounding like a bitter old man, "goaltender interference" was never called in my day and the only way to keep the wolves at bay was to use your stick when they entered your crease. The current equipment has made goaltending less of a reflex position and more of a positioning job. The stuff we used to cover our arms and chest was lighter than a horse blanket. And the early face masks of the day gave you two choices: Either use it and "save face" but be virtually blind, or ditch it, see the puck and gamble that you won't get hit. I finally packed it in after a hairline jaw fracture from a rising backhand was quickly followed a few games later by a high stick that opened up some skin about a quarter-inch from my right eye. I flinched at the first high shot in the next practice and skated off the ice, never to return. But goalies today get every break possible, especially from referee Dan O'Halloran, who must have been a member of the goaltenders' union when he was a kid.
There were times (especially on the power-play) in the first period last night that I thought the Pittsburgh Penguins might score at will but Chris Osgood kept shutting the door. And once Detroit jumped out to the lead in the second period, they shut the Pens down completely, limiting them to just seven shots over the last two periods. If Pittsburgh is going to win the Stanley Cup, they're going to have to score first.
Here it is, the biggest day of the year in auto racing. Here's who I like: Felipe Massa won the pole for the famed Monaco Grand Prix and all he has to do is outrace everyone to the first corner and hope his equipment holds out. Monaco, while visually stunning and the crown jewel of Formula One, is also the more boring spectacle of the year. Passing is virtually impossible, so I'll take Massa for the checkered flag. As for the Indianapolis 500, Helio Castroneves is nicely tucked in behind row one, starting fourth. He's raced seven times at the Brickyard, with six top-10 finishes. He's won it twice, finished second once and third once. I like Spiderman to join the ranks of three-time Indy winners. Danica Patrick? I've always thought she's a tremendous talent on the track and I believe she'll win the 500 in time. Just not this year. And finally, the Coca-Cola 600 at Charlotte closes out the day. Gotta go with my man, Jimmie Johnson, a three-time winner of this race. He starts 10th on the grid and this is one of his favourite tracks, so I like his chances.
Monday, May 26:
Happy Memorial Day to our U.S. friends!
I should have checked the weather forecast before I made my race predictions. The rain at Monaco turned the usual snoozefest into something with a measure of drama and wipeouts. Not many drivers crash in Formula One and recover to take the checkered flag but on this wet day at Monte Carlo, Lewis Hamilton did just that. It's not that I necessarily would have picked Hamilton to win in the rain, but I wouldn't have automatically chosen the pole-sitter, either. It was the pole-sitter who prevailed at Indianapolis, as Scott Dixon stayed out of trouble to win his first 500. It was a race with a lot of dumb driving -- Marco Andretti, Sarah Fisher and Ryan Briscoe were all guilty, among others. Three of the incidents came during yellow caution periods, for crying out loud. And it was one of those years where the high line meant nothing but trouble. Some years you can pass up there and some years -- due to track conditions, wind, tires, what-have-you -- you can't. Not that it didn't stop people from trying. And Vitor Meira, who finished second, pulled off one of the most eye-popping -- and scary -- passes I've ever seen at the Brickyard. As for Jimmie Johnson, he was in front with about 60 laps left at the Coca-Cola 600 but lost a cylinder and dropped out -- one of many who ended up unlucky. The race was Tony Stewart's until his tire went flat with three laps left, allowing Kasay Kahne to celebrate in Victory Lane.
Defence wins championships, they say. And the Spokane Chiefs simply smothered all comers in going undefeated at the Memorial Cup, capping it with a 4-1 win over Kitchener, right in the Rangers' home building. The only mistake was having the trophy (a replica) come apart in the post-game ceremony.
Tuesday, May 27:
All anyone wanted to talk about yesterday around the water cooler was Danica Patrick's so-called "hissy fit" after she was knocked out of the Indianapolis 500. She stormed down the track, tossing her gloves aside like a hockey enforcer and started looking for Ryan Briscoe before she was steered away by Speedway personnel. Here's why she had every right to do so: 1) Briscoe had no reason to be in her lane. It was, at best, lazy driving and he was 100% in the wrong (despite his inane comments to the contrary after the race). 2) Ever heard of a fella named A.J. Foyt? A Speedway legend, he was a raging beast if something went wrong, throwing such memorable fits that they talk about it to this day. But here's why it was wrong for Patrick to lose her cool: 1) She's not just a star race car driver, she's Danica Patrick, glamour girl -- and that's entirely of her choosing. The smothering media coverage goes with the territory. And showing a live, livid, cuss-word Danica into living rooms around the world likely isn't the image she wants to project. 2) In the time-honoured tradition of auto racing, when on-track incidents couldn't be resolved with words, they were settled "out back," like the time Parnelli Jones starched the late Eddie Sachs at the victory awards dinner the night after the 1963 race. Much as she may have loved to have punched out Briscoe, that was never going to happen, and (thank God) vice versa. Far better to keep your temper until the flash passes. At any rate, ripping Patrick for being emotional is entirely unfair, unless your willing to tear into some of the sport's very best. After all, the great Mario Andretti was one of the best at never pointing the finger at himself and always blaming others for any on-track accidents.
Of course, no discussion about "dumb" driving is complete without a peek into my own mirror. There I was, zipping along yesterday, entering the eastbound 407 on-ramp from the northbound 404 -- a nice, sweeping curve that I was taking "at speed." I was complete oblivious to my surroundings as I drifted into the far left lane, forcing a passing car almost into the guard rail. He beeped me back to reality, where I quickly discovered the emergency handling of my new Acura -- almost too nimble as I very nearly overcorrected and went out of control. If the other driver hadn't been quick and alert, it might have been a nightmare scenario. Bottom line -- senseless and stupid driving on my part.
I'm astonished that two games into the Stanley Cup final, the Pittsburgh Penguins are still looking for their first goal. If Detroit scores early and takes the crowd out of game three tomorrow night at the Igloo, then this could be over in a hurry.
Thursday, May 29:
Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a series. Nothing like a little home cookin' for the Pittsburgh Penguins. They scored first, outplayed Detroit (well, for two periods) and came away with a deserved win. Saturday night should be fun to watch.
That is, if I'm alive. Steve, The World's Greatest Next-Door Neighbour and Ron, the fella who lives two doors down, share a front lawn and yesterday decided to tear it up. (The topsoil arrives today and the new sod on Friday). So, like a schmuck, I offered to pitch in, forgetting that I'm in the approximate shape of a blob of mercury. As I write this, my hair hurts -- or would if I had any. But every neglected muscle is screaming at me today.
Friday, May 30:
Yes, I am still alive, but my calves and hamstrings were swearing at me all day long. They delivered the topsoil yesterday and when I got home from work, there were still two twin peaks of Mt. Everest and Mt. McKinley waiting to be shoveled down and spread out. Mind you, Steve, The World's Greatest Next-Door Neighbour and Ron had been at this all day. So, when I painfully struggled out of my car, they looked at me longingly, waiting for me to offer my services. That's when the calves and hamstrings started swearing again. So, I begged off, telling them I had to do my hair (if you navigate to the "host" page, you'll see why they didn't believe me). In reality, I had some work to do online and had just started when %@#& Microsoft Vista decided to crash. Upon re-boot, all I got was a black screen and white pointer. So, I had to re-install it and will now spend the next couple of days re-installing all of my programs. Glad I have a back-up computer, so I can rant away!
Saturday, May 31:
It is impossible for a human to hate a city more than I hate Toronto. It is run by blithering idiots who are elected by more blithering idiots. The latest grand scheme is to tear down part of the Gardiner from Jarvis to the DVP, forcing drivers from an expressway setting to a road with stoplights and back to an expressway. They say it will only add two minutes to the commute. In the immortal words of the fictional Sherman T. Potter: "Horse-hockey!" It will add a lot more than two minutes -- and during the all-day rush-hour, it will mean cars moving even slower, create gridlock and put more pollutants into the air. The city already loses billions of dollars each year because goods, business and people can't move in and out fast enough. All for what? The beautification of the waterfront? Please! All that has ever meant is more waterfront condos, blocking the city from the lake. There's no reason to believe this will be any different. Yes, Toronto in my rear-view mirror is a welcome sight, each and every day I leave work.
