Good-bye 2008, and good riddance

In ten hours from now, here in Arizona, we'll be ringing in the new year. I can hardly wait. Rarely has a year been so overwhelmingly brutal as this past year has been. I can think of one good thing that happened in the past year, and if you read my blog on a regular basis, you know I am referring to the election of Barack Obama. Everything else has sucked.

I turned 50 this year, a life event that should be joyous and rewarding. I should be basking in my career accomplishments, and saving for a greatly earned retirement. Instead, I am starting over, as financially strapped as I have ever been, a victim of my own arrogance, a putrid economy, and a despicable person who did much harm to me and my family.

Our nation is struggling through what can only be described as a depression, maybe not as enormous as the Great Depression of the '30's, but pretty devestating nevertheless. Thousands of people are losing their jobs every day, homes are being foreclosed at an alarming rate, businesses are failing, banks are closing. It's beyond frightening.

Then there's the ecological crisis our planet is experiencing, whether it's called global warming or not. The ice shelf is melting, the summers are hotter, the oceans are slowly evaporating, the storms/hurricanes/tornadoes/tsunamis are grandiose and murderous. Whether you believe Al Gore or not, it's hard to ignore the hard evidence.

I couldn't even get any enjoyment from sports this year, my favorite diversion. The Mets were in first place late in the season, yet collapsed for the second year in a row, and then watched in horror as the rival Phillies won the World Series. The Jets did a collapse even worse than the Mets, and I won't even waste any more words on that. The Arizona Wildcats basketball team was a soap opera, and the Diamondbacks were pathetic. No, sports provided no refuge from the misery.

There's just no getting around it, 2008 was a crappy year all around.

So here's to the New Year, 2009. May it bring joy and prosperity, may our new President begin the difficult climb out of the financial mess the out-going administration left him. May our economy begin to recover, and our nation get back on its feet. May Obama find a way to honorably bring our boys back home from Iraq, and may we, as a planet, find ways to halt the devestation we have wrought. And may my sports teams find a way to win, and not choke.

Happy New Year, everyone.

Just another collapse by a New York sports team

By now, I'm sure that all you sports fans out there know that the Jets blew their chance at a playoff spot. After 11 games, at 8-3 they had a two game lead in their division. But they went
1-4 down the stretch (and were extremely lucky to even win that one game!), Brett Favre turned into "Bad Brett", Eric Mangini forgot how to coach, the defense forgot how to stop anyone, and the Jets lost to bad teams like the 49'ers and the Seahawks. The front office brass quickly responded by firing Mangini yesterday. They still professed to support Favre as quarterback, but there is strong indication that Favre's shoulder is injured and he may be done for good. I can only hope so.

The foundation is there for a quality football team. And the team did go from four wins last year to nine this year. But nothing can excuse the pitiful and devestating collapse. Wait, didn't I write something to that effect a few months ago when it was the Mets turn to collapse? What is it with New York teams? Are the expectations too high? Is the media too tough? Or do these teams just suck, and if they were in Kansas City, no one would notice or care?

At least the Jets had plenty of company. The Tampa Bay Bucs owned a 9-3 record, and needed only to win one more game to secure their division. They lost their last four in a row. The Denver Broncos seemingly had their division sewn up (after they beat the Jets in the Meadowlands), but they lost their last three in a row and allowed the 8-8 Chargers, who won their last four in a row to go from 4-8 to 8-8, to win their division with a .500 record. And then there's America's Team, the Dallas Cowboys, who many pundits picked for the Super Bowl. They lost their last two games, getting blown out by the Eagles in the season finale, to finish out of the playoffs. And, oh yes, everybody's pick for the team of the decade, the Patriots, somehow managed to win 11 games and still not make the playoffs. Seems like chokers were all over the NFL this season.

But, for me, none stings more than the Jets. It's been 40 long years since Broadway Joe Namath launched himself into immortality and stirred the likes of fans like me. When will it ever end? And did we really have to see Chad Pennington win the division for Miami in the Jets' home stadium? When do pitchers and catchers report for spring training?

Why am I not surprised?

Disgusted? Absolutely. Pissed off? You betcha. But surprised? Not in the slightest. Of course, I'm talking about football, my two favorite teams in particular. The Jets and the Cardinals. My own personal house of horrors, my very own torture chamber.

Let's review. Only one month ago, the Jets, led by future Hall of Famer Brett Favre, had beaten the Patriots and then-unbeaten Tennessee in back-to-back games on the road. At 8-3, the Jets looked like the team to beat in the AFC and a possible Super Bowl contender. They led their division by a game over Miami and two games over New England.

The Cardinals stood at 7-4, needing one more win to clinch their hapless division. Kurt Warner was the "comeback kid" of the league, and the front-runner for the MVP. It was a time of giddiness and excitement.

The next weekend, the Jets lost a surprise game at home to Denver, a team that was struggling. No one took it to mean very much, even Favre was entitled to an off game. With Miami also losing, and New England winning, the Jets still owned an 8-4 record and a one game lead on both teams. The Cardinals played host to the Giants that weekend, and gave the best team in the league everything they had, and came oh so close to knocking them off. Instead, they lost, and clinching would have to wait another weekend.

The next weekend saw the Jets fly out to San Francisco to play the woeful 49'ers, one of the stinko teams in the Cards' division. If the Jets could win out, the division was theirs. Ah, but this is the Jets we're talking about, the team that has made its fans suffer for 40 years waiting for another Super Bowl. Sure enough, San Francisco inexplicably knocked them off, and the Jets found themselves now tied with both Miami and New England. Still, at 8-5, they owned the tie-breakers over both teams. All they had to do was win out over their last three games.

And the Cardinals? They played host to the pathetic St. Louis Rams, the team that quarterback Kurt Warner had taken to the Super Bowl, who had won only four games all season. The Cardinals continued to defend their home field, as they had done in every previous game, except the Giants' game. When the smoke cleared, they had beaten the Rams, and clinched their first division crown in decades. The city of Phoenix went nuts. Next up, the goal was strengthening their seed and gearing up for the playoffs.

Last Sunday was just plain ugly. The Jets hosted the Buffalo Bills, and did a great job of playing down to their opponent and making stupid mistakes and keeping the Bills in the game. Buffalo controlled the line of scrimmage, and spent the afternoon running the ball right through the Jets. With a little more than two minutes left, the Bills had the ball and the lead. All they had to do was keep pounding the run, gain a first down, and the Jets were toast. Inexplicably, Bills coach Dick Jauron called a pass play, the quarterback was sacked, fumbled the ball, and the Jets defender ran the fumble in for a game-winning touchdown. The fans went wild, and the Jets, now at 9-5, once more had their destiny in their own hands. Win the last two games, against pathetic Seattle, and then Miami, and the Jets win the AFC east.

The Cardinals played host to Minnesota, which was still fighting for a playoff spot. The game was in Phoenix, where the Cardinals were 5-1. A chance to improve their seed, and show the rest of the league that they were for real, and a force to be reckoned with in the playoffs. So, what happened? Adrian Peterson of the Vikings ran at will against the beleaguered Cardinal defense, and the Vikings led 28-0 before halftime. The stunned fans, who had celebrated a division championship only the weekend before, booed the team off the field at the half. It was beyond ugly.

And then came today. The Cardinals started the day playing at New England. The Cardinals had gotten their butts kicked every time they had come east this season (against the Jets, Eagles, and Redskins) and the other time they played in the eastern time zone, they blew a big halftime lead at Carolina, and ended up losing to the Panthers. Now was the time for some redemption, and not only that, by beating New England, they could help out the Jets. Yeah, right. Just to make things more ridiculous for the Cardinals, it was snowing like hell for the entire first half of the game today. It was, without doubt, one of the most embarrassing performances I've ever seen by an NFL team. The Patriots moved the ball at will, while the Cards couldn't even make a first down. It was 31-0 at halftime. To quote Brando in "Apocalypse Now," the horror, the horror.

But if that was bad, what came next was even worse. With the Patriots winning easily over the playoff joke from Phoenix, and Miami pulling out a tough one against Kansas City, the Jets had to win to stay even with them in the AFC east. It was snowing heavily in Seattle, where the Jets were playing the pathetic Seahawks, almost as heavily as it was coming down in New England. Rest easy, the Jets are now led by the great Brett Favre, the legend of all those blizzard-condition games all those years in Green Bay. The Jets moved the ball down the field on their first possession. They were about 18 inches shy of a first down at the Seattle 2, and opted for a field goal. They took the three points, and never got anywhere near the goal line again. To put it bluntly, Favre sucked. He threw interceptions, uncatchable balls, and got sacked. The running game was stymied. And the defense allowed Seattle to run the ball, and put up thirteen points. Not a whole helluva lot, but on this day, it was more than enough. Pathetic Seattle knocked off the Jets 13-3, won for only the third time all season, made Brett Favre look bad in the process, and just about knocked the Jets out of the playoffs. Oh, there's still a mathematical chance for the Jets. If they beat Miami next weekend (fat freaking chance, I predict Chad Pennington will destroy his old team and lay to rest many personal ghosts) and New England loses to Buffalo (sure, like that's going to happen!), the Jets can still win the division. Right, and if you believe all that will occur, there's some beachfront property here in Arizona I'd like to sell you.

No, it looks like the Jets are done. Just another spectacular collapse/choke on their resume. Welcome to the New York Jets, Mr. Favre, looks like you fit in perfectly. The Cardinals? They still get to play a home playoff game. They might even win next weekend against the pathetic Seahawks, it's hard to imagine that Seattle would actually win two in a row. It will be nice to see the Cards charge into the playoffs with an intimidating 9-7 record (he says, sarcastically). Despite being at home in the first round of the playoffs, they will probably be one and done.

In reality, both teams came a long way from last year, especially the Jets. The Jets will win no less than 9 games this year, and maybe 10. They only won four all last year, so it's quite an improvement. But there was so much more that they could have accomplished and had right in their sights. The division was theirs for the taking, and they blew it big time. The improvement over last season will be forgotten, the collapse will not.

The playoffs are a whole new season, and the Cardinals will definitely be there. If they get their act together, and win a game or two, the late-season fade will be forgotten. Realistically, it's hard to imagine that happening. They haven't just lost the last two games, they have thoroughly gotten their asses kicked. They were down 28-0 in the second quarter of BOTH games!! They have looked absolutely hopeless and pathetic.

How many days until pitchers and catchers report to spring training?

It's a Wonderful Life

I don't remember the first time I watched "It's a Wonderful Life". I remember my long-ago bachelor days, watching the film on TV by myself in my apartment on Christmas Eve. Back then, the film was shown on different channels, maybe five or six times on Christmas Eve. You could watch it back-to-back. I remember being entranced by the story, and overwhelmed by James Stewart's superlative performance. I didn't really relate to the character of George Bailey at that time, I was too young, carefree, and lacking in responsibility. I just liked the movie, a lot.

Twenty-five years later, "It's a Wonderful Life" has become an undisputed holiday classic. The tradition began in our house about six years ago of watching it on Christmas Eve. The kids fell in love with the movie, and we now watch it every year. Think of that, a black and white movie, made in 1946 by Frank Capra, without any special effects, CGI, violence or sex, has become a tradition in our household and is beloved by a 17 year-old, a 16 year-old, and a 13 year-old. How in the world did that happen?

Not to mention that now, at the ripe old age of 50, I identify whole-heartedly with George Bailey. Like George, I had dreams of travel and success, of making tons of money, and not being tied down. Like George, I find myself in a dreary job doing something I don't particularly care for, responsible for supporting a wife and family. And like George, I sometimes question my worth and value to the world.

I think what truly entrances me about the film is the sequence where George is taken by Clarence back to his home town of Bedford Falls and shown what life would have been like if he had never existed. Until that point, the film is a charming, often amusing, somewhat poignant look at life in a small town and the sacrifices made by a good man. Once Clarence and George go back to the alternate version of Bedford Falls, however, the film turns frightening and almost nightmarish.

George gets to interact with his mother, wife, and numerous friends. None of them know who he is and are fearful of this stranger who insists that he knows them. He gets to see a cemetery on land that should be the housing development he helped create. He is shown the grave of his brother, who died as a child, instead of being saved by twelve year-old George, as shown in an early scene in the film. The town itself is a low-class, run-down place, dominated by sleazy bars and liquor stores, where no regular person can own a home, since there never was a George Bailey to help them out with his "nickel and dime Building and Loan." The Bailey Building and Loan went out of business years before and Uncle Billy went to prison, because there was no George to bail both of them out. George and Mary's home is nothing but an empty, abandoned shell, and Mary is the spinster librarian of the town, who doesn't recognize George and is fearful that he will attack her. By the end of the sequence, George can't help but realize that he really has had a "wonderful life" and has made a difference. By the way, if you really want to study great acting, just watch Jimmy Stewart in this sequence, as well as all the supporting actors playing polar opposites of the characters they have played throughout the rest of the film. In my opinion, it's one of the most superb ten minute sequences of any film, and it is what elevates the movie to its position of greatness.

And yes, I can't get away from this fact, it is the sequence that brings me to tears every time I watch it. I see a lot of myself in George Bailey and I have the same self-doubts and feelings of disappointment he displays in the film. And, like George, ultimately I would like to think that I've made a difference in the lives of some people, not just my family, but the clients I have served over the years, and the people I have helped. I would like to think that in my own way, I have made my little corner of the world a better place, and that I have mattered.

The last few years have been very tough for me. I have lost dear relatives and friends, I have been forced to re-locate and start over. My financial troubles have been devestating, and I have often thought of myself as a failure. In the back of my mind, however, is the nagging belief that despite all that, I have made a difference, I have mattered to a lot of people, and that I have had "a wonderful life." Maybe somewhere, there's an angel who has gotten their wings because of me. Maybe, just maybe, I really am like George Bailey.

Relief is on the Way

In what is undoubtedly the biggest news to come out of the major league baseball winter meetings so far, the New York Mets have signed free agent relief pitcher Francisco Rodriguez to a three year contract. Rodriguez, or K-Rod, as he is known to the baseball world, set a new major league record for saves this past year, with 62 for the Angels.

While there are certainly other holes to fill on the Mets, Omar Minaya in one fell swoop has solved one of the biggest problems facing the Mets this past year. The team was humming along in first place, chugging their way to a division title, when closer Billy Wagner went down with a season-ending injury. The Mets were never the same again, and of course, collapsed down the stretch for the second year in a row. Who knows what would have happened if K-Rod had joined the Mets last August?

Nevertheless, he will be with the team in April when they christen their new stadium, Citi Field, and try one more time to win their division with their talented nucleus of David Wright, Jose Reyes, Carlos Beltran, Carlos Delgado, and Johann Santana. Adding K-Rod doesn't automatically make them better than their biggest division rivals, the World Champion Phillies, but it certainly gets them closer. And for every Met fan dreaming of another championship (and anxious to permanently erase the image of Carlos Beltran striking out looking without the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth of game seven of the '06 NLCS), that's a good thing.

Football, Football

It was quite the weekend for football, especially if you are a fan of my teams. First, I have to give props to the Arizona Cardinals for clinching their first division championship since 1975, when I was a freshman in college. It's the first division championship in their entire stay in Arizona, only the second time they've made the playoffs while calling Phoenix home, and the first time they will host a playoff game since 1947. That's no typo, 1947, sixty-one years ago. Unbelieveable. The defense looked awesome today against the Rams, the offense was good enough (except for one bone-headed Kurt Warner interception), and as a whole, the team looked like a legit playoff team. It's a big day for Phoenix sports fans.

Yesterday was a big day for Tucson sports fans. The University of Arizona football team had gone ten years without a winning season, ten years without a bowl game, and this year's senior class had never beaten arch-rival Arizona State. That all came to a screaching halt last night at Arizona Stadium in Tucson. Mike Stoops' team came into the game with a 6-5 record, already qualified to go to a bowl game. Dennis Erickson's ASU team had been ranked #15 in the nation pre-season, after last year's ten win team. After winning the first two games this season, the Sun Devils reeled off six losses in a row. They managed to beat the dregs of the Pac-10 conference (Washington, Washington State and UCLA) to come into last night's game with a 5-6 record, a win away from being bowl-eligible. At stake last night was the Las Vegas Bowl to the winner.

The U of A kept shooting itself in the foot in the first half last night. Penalties, dropped passes, missed opportunities, and then one of the biggest bonehead plays I've ever seen led to an ASU 10-7 halftime lead. The bonehead play? The U of A punter dropped down to one knee to catch a low snap from the center, obviously forgetting that by putting a knee on the turf, he was then automatically down, the play was over, and ASU got the ball right there on the UA 19 yard line. Talk about stupid, it looked like once again the U of A would under-achieve and lose to ASU.

The second half, however, was completely different. Arizona dominated the line of scrimmage and scored two touchdowns on long drives in the third quarter. ASU was stopped on a three-and-out on their next possession, punted to wide receiver/kick returner Mike Thomas, who proceeded to run the punt back 60 yards or so for the third Wildcat touchdown of the third quarter. Ballgame over, the first winning season in Mike Stoops' Arizona head coaching career, and a berth in the Las Vegas bowl on Dec. 20th. And, oh yeah, a losing season and no bowl game for the hated Sun Devils. All in all, a very sweet night for the UA football team and their long-suffering fans.

However, it's never totally good news for my football teams. Two weeks ago, the New York Jets had won their fifth in a row, and had beaten the Patriots and Titans in consecutive weekends on the road. For all intents and purposes, they looked like the team to beat in the AFC. Then, they got dominated last Sunday by the Broncos at home, and inexplicably lost to the 4-8 San Francisco 49'ers today. I don't know the details of that game (it was mercifully not broadcast here in Arizona), and I don't want to know, all I know is that the Jets are now tied with both the Patriots and Dolphins (although they do hold the tiebreaker against both teams) and have looked very bad in the last two games. The Jets better put it together real quick if they expect to be successful in the postseason. I want to cash in that bet I made in Vegas, and if that's going to happen, they will probably need to win at least two out of the next three games, and that won't be easy. Seems to me that the Jets have become a victim of their own success. After beating New England and Tennessee and hearing all about how they would meet up with the Giants in the Super Bowl, apparently the Jets felt that all they had to do was show up, and the other team would keel over in deference to their superiority. They obviously forgot all the hard work it took to beat those two elite teams on the road. They need to get back to the work ethic that got them to the top of the division if they still want to be there at the end of the season. If they win out, they win the division. Simple enough. But if they don't, either New England or Miami can take the division (wouldn't it be ironic if Miami, with Chad Pennington at quarterback, beat out the Jets for the division?). The way it looks now, there won't be a wild card from the East, so it's either win the division or stay home. Why do I smell a Jets collapse coming?

And, finally, a few words about the Giants. Before today, the reigning World Champs were the consensus pick as the best team in football, by far. So, what happens? They lose to the Eagles at home, and are thoroughly dominated. If not for a fluke blocked field goal, run back the other way for a touchdown, the Giants would have been shut out until the last minute of the game. Regardless, they looked decidedly mortal and beatable today, and you can't help but wonder if the off-field turmoil created by Plaxico Burress hadn't snakebit the team. The Giants will still win their division, and are still the favorites to reach the Super Bowl from the NFC, but for the first time in a long time, they look beatable. That has to be the biggest surprise of all the games today.

All in all, another fun week in football, both pro and college. I look forward to next Sunday.

The Cabinet Ladies

Much has been written lately about President-elect Obama's choices for his Cabinet. I'll leave it to the pundits to talk about the Cabinet in general, but I do have some thoughts about the ladies he has chosen.

I am extremely torn about his choice of Janet Napolitano for Director of Homeland Security. While I have no doubt that she will do a fine job in that position, her vacating the Governor's seat here in Arizona is a serious loss for us. Needless to say, Arizona is about as red as a state can be, and it was quite a coup for us to elect (and re-elect) a Democratic governor. She has been superb at dealing with the legislature, which is solidly Republican, and the electorate. While we are experiencing budget problems (who isn't?) and racial strife, Napolitano has managed to steady what has often been a very rocky ship. She has advocated for children (one of her pet projects from her days as Attorney General) and our state is no longer last in education and children's programs. The State has undergone tremendous growth during her period as governor, and Phoenix has become the fifth-largest city in the nation. The infrastructure is improving, and the city has just finished the very first light rail transportation system in the state. Phoenix remains a destination center for conventions, sports events, and tourism. The economy had enjoyed unprecedented growth until just this last year, and Napolitano especially has made sure to make things palatable for corporate relocation to Arizona. Our state has thrived under this Democratic governor, and she has been the one successful beacon of power the Democratic party has had.

Napolitano will be succeeded by Lieutenant Governor Jan Brewer, a conservative Republican. Brewer does not have anywhere near the influence and popularity that Napolitano enjoys, and the Democrats fear that she will be overwhelmed by the Republican legislature and be merely a rubber stamp. Racial strife will likely increase as the War on Illegal Aliens will result in more abuses against Mexican-American citizens, as they get swept up by the likes of Joe Arpaio. Napolitano had been a voice of reason in this political minefield, while Brewer will certainly not be. And the Democratic Party in Arizona? It will probably be a long time before the party becomes anything more than an afterthought. There is no doubt that the country's gain will be Arizona's loss. I think Obama could have picked someone else for Homeland Security, someone equally competent as Napolitano. We need her here more than in Washington, and her loss will be devestating to our state.

I still haven't decided how I feel about Condoleeza Rice as United Nations Ambassador. While I applaud Obama for being inclusive, I have to wonder about Rice's loyalty to the President-elect. Abraham Lincoln tried to be inclusive with his cabinet choices, and he suffered for it with a cabinet he could not trust and which often vehemently undermined and opposed him. I like Rice and I always felt she was one of the jewels of the W presidency, but I just don't know about her as part of Obama's cabinet. Time will tell.

And that brings me to Hillary Clinton. I can't believe I just typed that name. I don't know, maybe I'm totally off-base here, but if I were Barack Obama, I would want to put as much distance between myself and the Clintons as possible. Whatever political gain is made by putting Hillary in the cabinet is more than off-set by the baggage that Hillary brings with her, the biggest baggage being, of course, Bubba. Hillary Clinton as Secretary of State; is that really reflective of the Obama vision that so captivated this nation? I think Obama blew it big time with that choice.

Oh, I'm not naive, I can understand why Obama would want Hillary right where he could keep an eye on her. And if she implodes, she will no longer pose a threat to an Obama re-election bid. I get all that. But really, doesn't the overwhelming potential for harm greatly outweigh any possible advantages? Does anyone really believe that Hillary can broker anything significant as Secretary of State? And what sort of horror will Bill bring forth, now that he will be (sort of) back in the spotlight? I just think this will be a choice that will backfire on Obama. We shall see.

NOTE TO BLOG: After posting this entry, my good friend, B After the Fact, has pointed out to me that President-elect Obama has nominated Susan Rice, not Condoleezza Rice, as Ambassador to the UN. I don't know if I made the mistake, or the news channel I was watching made the error, but I could have sworn I saw Condoleezza Rice's name listed with other Cabinet nominees. Anyway, sorry about that error. You can ignore everything I wrote in the fourth paragraph of this post. Hey, it could have been worse, I could have said Anne Rice, or Simeon Rice.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Football, food, no work, what could be bad? When I was a kid, Thanksgiving Day meant the annual football team between the two local high schools. I never missed it, and when I was in high school myself, I participated in it by being in the marching band. That night, we would always have Thanksgiving dinner at our house. My father would drive into Brooklyn to pick up the grandparents, while my mother would cook the turkey and stuffing and all the extras. She did it all, with only a little bit of help from her mother and her aunt. Pretty amazing, considering we would have anywhere from twenty to thirty people over for dinner.

Times have changed. Thanksgiving now is at my house here in Phoenix. My family will drive up from Tucson to celebrate with us. Too many people are missing from years past: my father, my sister's husband, my grandparents, the great aunts. My aunt and uncle and cousins from New York are too far away to join us. They will all be missed. Even my kids won't be here this year, my stepkids are with their Dad in San Francisco and my daughter will remain in Tucson with her mother. It'll be different.

It seems like there's not a whole lot for me to be thankful for this year, but that would not be the truth. I'm thankful for my wife, the best person I have ever known and the greatest gift that God has ever given me. I'm thankful for my kids, who can drive me crazy at times, but of whom I am so proud. I'm thankful that my mother and siblings live close enough that we can be together for this holiday. I'm thankful for my job, which allows me to live in a nice house in a nice place and allows me to put food on the table for my family. I'm thankful for this great country we live in, and that after eight long years of darkness, we have a new President-elect who has given so much hope to so many. I'm thankful for my health, I know of too many people who haven't lived as long as I.

In reality, there's a whole lot for me to be thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Statement Games, Part II

So here we were today, Sunday, November 23, 2008. The New York Jets led the AFC East division of the National Football League by one game, and were in Tennessee, facing the undefeated Titans, the best team in the AFC. The Arizona Cardinals led the NFC West by four games, and played host to the reigning NFL champions and the consensus pick for the best team in the entire league thus far, the New York Giants. Did I hear someone say statement game?

The Jets/Titans game came first. The first half was a defensive struggle, but the Jets had dominated time of possession, as their offensive line was controlling the game. They pulled away in the second half, holding onto the ball for 40-plus minutes, and handing the mighty Titans their first loss of the season. Brett Favre played a great, if not exactly flawless, game. However, it was the domination by the Jets' offensive line, and the subsequent effective running game which were the keys to the Jets' victory. To the rest of the league, the Jets boldly made a statement and placed themselves squarely into the Super Bowl conversation.

The Cardinals/Giants game came next. The Giants are undoubtedly the best team in football, excelling in all three phases of the game: offense, defense and special teams. The Cardinals were able to play with them for the most part on offense and defense, but it was special teams which clearly showed the difference. The Giants continually ran back kicks to put them in excellent field position, giving them short fields and leading to touchdowns. The Cardinals' special teams were not bad, but were definitely outclassed. Two mistakes by Kurt Warner, a fumble and an interception, both in Cardinal territory, were huge, and led to Giants scores. An onsides kick with about four minutes left should have been recovered by the Cardinals, but was not. The final score was Giants 37, Cardinals 29. The Cardinals probably played good enough to beat any other team in the league today, but not the Giants. The Giants are playing at a different level than any other team. No one else is even close. The statement made by the Cardinals today is that they are a good team, able to hang tough with the best team in the league, but not quite good enough yet to beat them. Clinching the division will have to wait at least one more week.

Am I concerned? Not at all, the Cardinals will definitely be a factor in the playoffs. Maybe today's loss will be the springboard to their reaching another level, just like the Giants' last game of the regular season loss to the Patriots last year clearly pushed them to a higher level, good enough to win three playoff games on the road, and then beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl. We'll see if today's loss has the same type of effect on the Cardinals.

And the Jets? They look like the real deal, baby. They just might be the best team in the AFC. How in the world did they ever lose to Oakland?

Detroit Bail-out

So, the CEO's of the Big Three American car manufactures used their own private planes to fly to Washington to request billions of dollars from the government? That's so sick on so many different levels that I don't know where to begin.

I learned early on in my adulthood that American-made cars were genuinely inferior to foreign-made. My parents owned a ten year-old Mercedes when I got my driver's license, and it drove light years better than any American-made piece of crap. Over the next few years, I owned a hand-me-down Chevy station wagon, a Plymouth Duster, an Oldsmobile Delta 88, and a Ford Pinto. In one way or another, they were all pieces of unadulterated garbage. I'll never forget one time driving home from law school for the weekend in my "blow-up-in-the-back" Pinto, and the damn thing was unable to get up a hill on the Taconic Parkway. I couldn't believe it, we're not exactly talking about a highway in the Rocky Mountains here. What a hunk of junk.

The first new car I bought was a Toyota Corolla in 1988. I turned over the odometer on that car twice, and was working on the third time when I got into an accident and totaled the car through no fault of the vehicle in 2001. That car was built like a tank, and I'm thoroughly convinced that, but for that accident, I would still be driving it.

My next car was a two year-old Dodge Durango. It got a whopping fourteen miles to the gallon, and over the next few years, I probably put between eight and ten thousand dollars worth of work into it. Yes sir, another wonderful piece of Detroit technology. I now drive a Toyota Highlander, one of those mini-SUV things that actually gets almost thirty miles to the gallon, and should still be good twenty years from now. As far as I'm concerned, I will never buy another American vehicle again. That is, unless there are major changes in the American auto industry.

I'm not talking about minor changes, I'm talking about major, industry-revitalizing changes. I'm talking about quality product, a productive work force, competitive pricing, and a total re-structuring of the company compensation system. I guess I'm talking about the auto industry as it exists in Japan. Right, like that will ever happen here. Not when you have the sort of mentality where CEO's fly in private jets to beg for government charity. Disgusting.

So remind me again why in the world my tax dollars should go to bail out this failed industry, which has ripped off the American consumer for the last four decades? Tell me why, if these CEO's are rich enough to own their own jets, they can't improve their businesses without a hand-out from us? Tell me why I should care.

Statement Games

I lived the first half of my life in the Long Island suburbs of New York City, the second half in Arizona. When I was ten years old, Broadway Joe Namath (who just might have been the coolest guy on the planet back then) led the New York Jets to a legendary, almost-mythic upset win over the heavily-favored Baltimore Colts in Super Bowl III. From that point on, I have been a Jets fan for life. In 1982, I graduated from Law School in Albany, NY, on a Saturday, and moved out to Tucson, Arizona the next day. Arizona had no pro football team then, but the St. Louis Cardinals moved out to the desert a few years later. They landed in Phoenix (Tempe, actually) and called themselves the Phoenix Cardinals back then, but they became Arizona's team. And, although they pretty much sucked and had a total putz for an owner, they became my second team. In retrospect, I don't know what I ever did to deserve such abject misery.

Since the legendary Super Bowl victory in January of 1969, the Jets have not once returned to the Big Game. They've made it to the Conference Finals only twice since then. In 1982, Richard Todd (remember him?) led the team to the Conference Finals, where they played division rival Miami in the Orange Bowl. It rained for about a week before the game, and the field was a muddy mess. The Jets gained about 15 yards in total offense that day, A.J. Duhe of Miami deflected a Todd pass into the air, waited for about three minutes for the ball to fall into his arms, and then slogged through the mud into the end zone. The Jets were shut out in that game, 14-0. It was painful to watch.

In 1999, Vinny Testaverde, who I don't think has ever won a championship game at any level, led the Jets to the Conference Finals again. That year, the game was played in Denver in frigid conditions. Somehow, the Jets kept John Elway in check for the first half, and actually led at halftime 6-0. But the real Elway showed up in the second half, and the Broncos romped to a relatively easy win.

And that's been it. There have been a couple of other playoff appearances, maybe three or four, but they have all been early exits. For the most part, the Jets have been pathetic for the last forty years. They have been soft and inconsistent, and have usually let good players slip away. Cheering for them has been a chore.

But if the Jets have been bad, the Cardinals have been absolutely horrific. In the twenty years since they landed in the desert, the Cardinals have had only one, yes one, winning season. In 1999, the Cardinals somehow managed to go 9-7. The last game of that season was a last-second victory over San Diego, which secured the Cards only playoff berth during their entire tenure in Arizona. The quarterback was Jake Plummer, local college star from Arizona State. The Cards faced the dreaded Cowboys in their playoff game. Now, the Dallas Cowboys, for reasons that make me sick, were at that time Arizona's team. In the many years that Arizona was without a pro football team, Cowboys games were featured on TV, gear was sold in stores, and this state became a Dallas Cowboys stronghold. Indeed, if you go see a Cowboys/Cardinals game here (at least until this year), you would find more Cowboys fans than Cardinals fans. It's sickening, especially to someone like me who has always hated the Cowboys.

Anyway, I digress. Somehow, the Cardinals beat the Cowboys in that playoff game. The next week, they faced a much stronger opponent (it was either Green Bay or the Rams, I can't remember) and they were done. But the future looked bright. That is, until the putz of an owner broke up the team. And so, that one glorious moment remains the only playoff game won by the Cardinals in the twenty years they have been in Arizona. One game. Unbelieveable. Even the Jets have been better than that.

Which brings us to this year. The Jets were coming off a four win season last year and not much was expected for this season. I was in Las Vegas in either May or June, and just for laughs, I put down a five dollar bet for the Jets to win the Super Bowl. The odds were 65-1, and I figured what the heck, it's only five bucks. What did I know? And then, all of a sudden, none other than Brett Favre ends up being the Jets quarterback. Tom Brady of the Patriots is lost for the year due to injury, and Peyton Manning has been decidedly mortal. The Jets were 6-3 going into last night's game against the Pats and were tied for the division lead. Holy crap, you mean to tell me there's a chance I might actually get to cash in that 65-1 five dollar bet?

The Jets went out to a big first half lead in the game last night. The Patriots fought back. After all, they're still the Patriots, with or without Tom Brady, and they were playing at home. The score was tied at the end of the third quarter. The Jets came back with a long drive to go up by a touchdown with three minutes left. The Patriots tied the score with a miracle touchdown pass with one second left. Uh-oh. Here it comes, reality time for the Jets.

And then a funny thing happened in overtime. Favre led the Jets on another long drive; and the Jets kicked the game-winning field goal midway through overtime. Against the Patriots. On their field. The national pundits are saying that the Jets, by barely beating the Patriots in overtime on a game that they led handily in the first half, missed an opportunity to make a "statement", whatever the hell that is supposed to mean. Well, I've got news for you clowns. The Jets made a major statement last night. Any other Jets team would have easily lost that game. That's the statement, and for long-suffering Jets fans like me, that is enough. At least for today.

And the Cardinals? The Cardinals have quietly put together a solid team the last few years. The receiving tandem of Anquan Boldin and Larry Fitzgerald are the best in the league. The defense is loaded with studs. And Kurt Warner, former two-time league MVP, won the starting quarterback position from Matt Leinart, and has played this season as good, if not better, than he ever did for the Rams back in his glory days. When all that is added to the fact that the other teams in the division, the 49'ers, Rams, and Seahawks, are all having major down years, the Cardinals find themselves leading the division. Pivotal home wins against then-undefeated Buffalo and Dallas (yes, the dreaded Cowboys) on consecutive Sundays back in October vaulted the Cardinals to first place in the division. Before last Monday night's game against San Francisco, the Cardinals were 5-3 and led the division by three games. The Monday night match-up, nationally televised, against an inferior opponent on the Cardinals' home field in brand- new University of Phoenix Stadium in Glendale (a West Valley suburb of Phoenix) was supposed to be a "statement" game.

Well, the 49'ers made a statement on the first play of the game, as the kickoff was run back for a 104 -yard touchdown. The Cardinals were forced to play catch-up the rest of the way, as that first play seemed to suck the life out of the home crowd and home team. The Cards made mistakes, committed stupid penalties, had horrible tackling at times, and allowed the 49'ers to almost beat them. Any other Cardinal team from any other year would clearly have lost, and blown this opportunity at a "statement" game. Yet, somehow, unbelievably, the Cards denied their legacy, and came out with an ugly win, thanks to a last-second, improbable goal-line stand. Still, ugly as it was, a win is a win, and the Cardinals, at 6-3, now find themselves four games ahead in their division.

Again, the national pundits have been merciless, castigating the Cardinals for failing to make a "statement." And to that, I say, you morons are clueless!! The Cardinals made a statement, they won the damn game!! That's the statement, don't you idiots get that??!! These are the Cardinals you're talking about!

As I sit here today, the Jets are 7-3 and lead their division. The Cardinals are 6-3 and, incredibly with seven games still to go, have almost clinched their division. My mind wanders with fantasies of the Jets barely edging out the Cardinals in the Super Bowl this coming February and me going up to Vegas to cash in that ticket. I can almost taste the sweetness of that fantasy, and I long for it to happen. I have hope, I have faith, and I'm loving this football season.

And that, all you ridiculous so-called national experts, is the statement these two teams have made. They have ceased to be themselves, and they have actually learned how to win. They have given their fans hope, and joy, and excitement. They're not the best teams in the league, they probably won't reach the Super Bowl. But they have clearly made statements to their fans. And we're lovin' it!!

OK, so I was wrong....

....And I've never been so happy to be wrong in my life. It truly feels like a new day has dawned today. I'll bet it was like this in 1960, when Kennedy was elected.

Like many Americans, I never thought I would live to see the day that a black man would be elected President. I remember the race riots of the mid-60's, the Black Panthers, Malcolm X, and of course, Martin Luther King and his horrifying murder. Racism is still alive and kicking in my state of Arizona, and I had no reason to believe it's not still alive all across the country. But maybe, just maybe, that's changing.

McCain's concession speech last night was very gracious, and it seemed to underscore the fact that that particular McCain had been absent for much of the campaign. Perhaps the pressure of the campaign was too much for him and so he hid the true McCain behind the McCain that came forth and was rejected by the nation. And to my friend, A Red Mind in a Blue State, I will never underestimate Sarah Palin. To do that would be stupid, and I firmly believe she will be President someday, and I fear that day. As someone who does not fit her definition of a "real American", she scares the crap out of me. But that is something to worry about some other day.

Obama's speech, as always, was brilliant and powerfully given. The man is clearly a class act and I look forward optomistically to his presidency. But the thing I will always remember most from last night was the reaction from African-Americans, from the faculty members at Howard University who were so overwhelmed with emotion that they couldn't speak, to Jesse Jackson, who stood in the crowd in Grant Park in Chicago, with tears running down his face. No one can deny that last night was one of this nation's most historic moments.

Congratulations to President-elect Obama, I certainly don't envy you, the job you face is enormous and daunting. And congratulations to our great nation, for electing the best candidate, despite his race.

Lute

I want so much for this post to be a tribute to Lute Olson, to talk about his legacy, his career as head coach of the University of Arizona basketball team, and just what he has meant to the city of Tucson, Arizona for the last 25 years. That, however, would be a fraud and a cheat. I've already talked about all that in a previous post, about how Lute came to town in 1983 to take over the reigns of the Pac 10 basketball cellar dweller, and built a national powerhouse. Lute's legacy will be the national championship of '97, the other three Final Four teams, the eleven Pac 10 conference championships, the Sweet Sixteen teams, the All-Americans who played for him, the future NBA stars, the 24 consecutive appearances in the NCAA tournament, the induction into the Hall of Fame. Lute will always be revered for putting Tucson and the U of A on the national map, and giving the locals pride in his team and their school, as well as their city. Lute changed the city of Tucson forever, and nothing he did in the last few years can erase that.

However, what he did in the last few years unfortunately has tarnished what should have been a stellar legacy. The last hurrah for Lute Olson's teams occurred with about four minutes to go in an NCAA regional final a few years ago, when the Wildcats had a fifteen point lead over the heavily favored Illini of Illinois and looked like they were headed to Lute's fifth Final Four appearance with the team. Instead, the Wildcats stumbled and fumbled their way to choking up that lead and lost in a heartbreaker. In retrospect, Lute never got over that devestating loss.

In the next few seasons, he would sack his assistant coaches, including long-time assistant/associate coach Jim Rosborough, a favorite of his players. He would bring in Kevin O'Neill to help with discipline as he was forced to suspend and discipline players like Marcus Williams and Salim Stoudemire. Last year, he abruptly and without warning, took a leave of absence for personal reasons that lasted the entire season. O'Neill was dubbed interim coach, and the team stumbled its way to its first sub-20 win season since the mid-80's and barely made it into the Big Dance, only to exit in the first round to Purdue. Olson was furious, and fired O'Neill, as well as other loyal assistants/former players Josh Pastner and Miles Simon, the hero of the national championship team.

Blue chip recruit Brandon Jennings bailed on the Wildcats, and superstar freshman Jerryd Bayless left early for the NBA draft. But Lute appeared to be back, as he put his arduous and difficult divorce to his second wife behind him, and energetically recruited some top prospects. He convinced Chase Budinger to stay in school, and talked the other Wildcats into not transferring.

Practice started six days ago and Lute seemed energized and fearless once again. And then yesterday, as if coming out of nowhere, it all fell apart, as Lute shocked the college basketball world by announcing his retirement. What in the world? Why, in heaven's name, now? Why not months ago when the school could have done a national search and gotten a top name replacement? No big time coach is going to abandon his current team right now, just days before the start of the season, and come to Tucson. None of the current recruits or their families got a phone call from Lute, one mother of a recruit found out by a text message, and she is understandably furious. One by one the recruits have already "de-committed." The current Wildcats found out by watching Dick Vitale on ESPN. The whole thing has been heartless and shameful.

Don't get me wrong, I lived in Tucson for 25 years, almost the entire time Lute was the UA coach, and I love the guy for what he did for the town and the school. Words can't describe the excitement he brought to that sleepy burgh in the southern Arizona desert. But the way he's treated his players, the recruits, and his coaches the past two years has been reprehensible. And let's not forget the loyal fans, who pay a pretty hefty premium for season tickets. There's a lot of upset people in Tucson right now, and it just didn't have to be this way.

Lute Olson deserves his retirement, he deserves to spend time with his kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. He deserves to bask in his achievements, and live out the rest of his life in comfort and happiness. But to leave the program he built, the powerhouse that he created, as the shambles that now exists, is beyond sad. To quote an anonymous child from a long time ago, "say it ain't so."

My Ten Favorite Scary Movies

Well, Halloween is just a few weeks away, and I thought it an appropriate time to talk about my ten favorite scary movies. First, a couple of things that this list is not: it's not about monster movies, classic or not. "Frankenstein" and "The Bride of Frankenstein" may be great, old, classic movies, but they are not scary, certainly not in the creepy, goose-bumpy way. I also haven't included the gory, splatter movies. You know, the ones that think scary is all about blood and grossness, movies like "Saw" or "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre." What you'll find here are scary, suspenseful, creepy movies. Things may jump out at you, there can be blood and guts, but there has to be more to them than that. So, without further ado, here are my top ten in reverse order:

10. "Cloverfield"

I don't know what I was expecting when I sat down to watch the DVD of this movie, but I certainly wasn't expecting anything so good that I would add to a top ten list. But from beginning to end, this movie grabbed me, kept me on the edge of my seat, and never let up the tension or suspense. The premise is similar to "Blair Witch Project" in that it happens in real time, with the entire movie seen through the lens of a videotape camera. Very nifty, and very effective.

9. "Blair Witch Project"

Once again, a very clever premise, and very suspenseful and scary. The fact that you never see the witch, or whatever it is that is stalking the main characters only adds to the effectiveness of the scares. Excellent performances by the three principal actors are crucial to the wonderful atmosphere and moodiness of this film. You'll never find me walking in the woods again.

8. "Nightmare on Elm Street"

Yes, the sequels were horrible and nothing more than gore-fests, but the original was terrifying. The introduction of Freddie Krueger was creepy and scary as all get out, with a fine performance by Robert Englund in the title role.

7. "It"

Yes, I know, it's a TV movie, and not a theatrical release, and yes, the best parts of the book were left out, and the ending sucked. Never mind, the first half of this film is mesmerizing and terrifying. Tim Curry gives the performance of his career as Pennywise, the scariest, creepiest, most horrifying clown you will ever come up against. A better second half, and this would have been much higher up the list.

6. "28 Days"

Probably the most intelligent zombie film ever made, this is part end of the world apocalypse, part zombie thriller. Atmospheric, moody, and terrifying, all done with the sardonic wit that only the British seem to possess. The opening sequence, where the main character wanders through an eerily silent, abandoned London is simply brilliant.

5. "Night of the Living Dead"

The grandaddy of all zombie films, filled with blood and gore, not to mention horrible acting by its grade Z cast. Nevertheless, it is creepy and terrifying. The grainy, black and white cinematography only add to the realism. George Romero's first major hit, and still his best film. The sequels had their moments, but none could match the original classic.

4. "The Ring"

A solid story, fine acting (especially Naomi Watts), and the most terrifyingly creepy dead child ever put to celluloid all added up to the best scary film in many years. The climactic moment when the child actually came up out of the well, and.....Never mind, you didn't really think I was going to give it away, did you.

3. "The Shining"

As one of Stephen King's "constant readers", I'm supposed to not like this version of King's scariest book. Sorry to disappoint you, Stephen, but this is one of the moodiest, most ominous films ever made, with classic Kubrick touches like the steadicam dolly shots behind Danny's tricycle, and the hedgemaze. Sure, they left a lot of great stuff out of the book, but Jack Nicholson's performance as crazy Jack Torrance is towering, and the movie is genuinely scary. It helps to have read the book beforehand, but this is still a major achievement. This is one film that has gotten better as the years have gone by.

2. "Halloween"

I'm talking about the original, and only the original, you can forget all the lame sequels. From the incredible theme music, written by director John Carpenter himself, to the amazing beginning set-piece that starts the film, this movie is terrifying and suspenseful from beginning to end. The blood and gore is minimal, while the terror is unrelenting. An absolute masterpiece, and if it is to be blamed for the entire slasher genre it spawned, so be it, this movie is worth it. An homage to "Psycho", the Donald Pleasance character is actually named Sam Loomis. Jamie Leigh Curtis was never better.

1. "Psycho"

What can I possibly say about this movie that hasn't already been said? The shower sequence is probably the most famous sequence in American cinema and never loses its power to shock. This is probably the only movie that kills off its main character 45 minutes into the film, and it's a tribute to master director Alfred Hitchcock that he gets away with it. Anthony Perkins was perfectly cast as Norman Bates, and he is terrifying and pitiful at the same time. Janet Leigh is breathtakingly beautiful, and a perfect combination of naive waif and shady sex object. I believe this is Hitchcock's best film, and one of the top ten movies of all time. Still holds up after all these years.


And there you have it, my top ten scary films of all time. If you think I've left anything worthwhile out, let me know. And if you haven't seen one or more of these movies, check them out this Halloween, you won't regret it.

Justice in Las Vegas?

O.J. Simpson was convicted yesterday in a Las Vegas federal courtroom of armed robbery, kidnapping, and several other charges. He will be sentenced on December 5th. and is facing a minimum of fifteen years in prison, and could get life. He was taken into custody after the verdicts were read.

You can imagine the nation-wide reaction. "Good, he got away with murder, and now the scales have been balanced," "What comes around goes around," or "Karma." I would bet that if a poll was taken, more than 90% of those polled would say that they were pleased with the verdict, and that justice was done.

But, was it? Was O.J. Simpson convicted for the events that took place in a Las Vegas hotel room a year ago, or was he convicted for the events that took place in a tony Los Angeles suburb fourteen years ago. Yesterday's conviction was thirteen years to the day after he was acquitted of the murder of his ex-wife, Nicole Simpson, and her friend, Ron Goldman.

If you're under twenty years of age, you probably don't really remember the cause celebre that was the O.J. double murder trial. The rest of us will never forget it. It was the most sensational and notorious murder trial of my lifetime. It made household names of Simpson's lead defense attorney, Johnny Cochrane, the judge, Lance Ito, and the prosecutors, Marcia Clark and Chris Darden. It was televised from start to finish, and Americans were riveted to their tv sets.

I've been a criminal defense attorney for over twenty years, and if there's one thing I fear in a criminal case, it's physical evidence. Physical evidence (fingerprints, blood, etc.) acts like a spotlight pointing at the defendant, it becomes virtually impossible to successfully defend a case when there is physical evidence. As it should be, for after all, if someone leaves fingerprints, blood samples and what not at the scene of the crime, it's pretty much a certainty that they are guilty of the crime.

In the O.J. murder case, the police found his blood, his fingerprints, bloody shoeprints, and O.J.'s hat and a pair of gloves at the crime scene. The physical evidence was overwhelming. The State was able to prove motive, as O.J. was still obsessed with his ex-wife and had been stalking her and was violently jealous of any man she was with. And they could show a pattern of domestic abuse, with prior incidents and police contact. Sounded pretty open and shut to me.

What happened next depended on your opinion of the legal system. Many Americans felt it was an absolute travesty. Others, like me, seasoned criminal attorneys, watched a slam dunk case for the State become destroyed by prosecutor arrogance and incompetence. Cochran and his team put the L.A. police on trial, and were simply brilliant. The prosecutors allowed O.J. to try on the gloves during the trial, and O.J. gave a performance better than he ever gave in a movie, he tried to squeeze his hands into the gloves, and when he couldn't get his fingers in there, he smirked and said "they don't fit." It was the turning point of the trial. The jury came back with acquittals in less than an hour.

The nation was outraged. O.J. became a pariah and a symbol of everything that was wrong with American jurisprudence. The victims' families sued Simpson in civil court for wrongful death and received a large money judgment. Apparently, the sports collectibles that were at the center of the Las Vegas incident were items that Simpson had given to the occupants of the hotel room to avoid their being sold off with the proceeds going to the murder victims' families. Despite the verdict of the civil trial, the general consensus the last thirteen years was that Simpson got away with murder.

So, did O.J. get a fair trial last week in Las Vegas? Who can know? Could any of those jurors not have been tainted in some way by their feelings about Simpson? They were given a 16 page questionaire to fill out to prove to the attorneys and judge that they could be fair and impartial. Despite that, there are doubts, and Simpson's attorney clearly believes that O.J. was convicted not so much for what happened in Vegas, but what happened in Los Angeles. Maybe he was.

Most Americans probably don't care in the slightest whether Simpson got a fair trial in Vegas. He got away with murder once, and now what comes around goes around, or something like that. And that's wrong, very wrong. I have no great love for O.J. Simpson, but the criminal justice system must work, for O.J. and all of us. If the government proved its case beyond a reasonable doubt last week, then justice was done. If the verdict was payback for Nicole and Ron, then it was a travesty of justice.

Paul Newman

Another cinema icon has passed away this weekend, and one more link with the old, classic Hollywood has gone with him. Paul Newman was many things: a marvelous actor, a director/producer, a sex symbol, a race car driver, a philanthropic entrepenour, and a family man. He lived his life his way, and he was admired and loved by millions.

When he catapulted to stardom in the mid-50's, he was adored by millions of women who were mesmerized by his blue eyes, chiseled looks, and moody countenance. He played rascals and rebels, loners and con men. His early output of films reads like a list of classics: "Somebody Up there Likes Me", "Cat on a Hot tin Roof", "The Long Hot Summer", "Sweet Bird of Youth", "Exodus", "The Hustler", "Hud". He starred in off-beat message westerns, such as "The Left Handed Gun", playing Billy the Kid, and "Hombre", playing a half-breed Apache facing social and racial prejudice. And, of course, the classic "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid", where he was teamed with Robert Redford for the first time.

In the 70's and 80's, he started to play in message films. He received Academy Award nominations for his brilliant roles in "Absence of Malice" and "The Verdict." He tempered these serious films with films of pure entertainment value, the wonderfully profane ode to minor league hockey, "Slap Shot", the us-against-the-world parable of the New York Police Department, "Fort Apache, the Bronx", and that wonderful throwback to the old Hollywood con-artist film, "The Sting", which re-teamed Newman with Robert Redford and director George Roy Hill, and won seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture.

Despite ten nominations, Newman won only one time, for the reprisal of his role as Fast Eddie Felson in Martin Scorcese's "The Color of Money." He had played the role to perfection previously in "The Hustler", and was probably robbed of an Academy Award at that time. The Oscar he received seemed more like a lifetime achievement award, and if that is the case, so be it. We can regard it as a make-up award for losing out for "The Hustler", and "Hud", and "The Verdict", and on and on.

Newman was married twice, the second time to actress JoAnne Woodward. They celebrated their 50th anniversary earlier this year, and I defy anyone to name another Hollywood power couple who lasted even close to that long. Newman was famously faithful to his wife, and when asked why he didn't avail himself of the throngs of women who wanted to have sex with him, stated: "I go home and have steak every night, why would I want to substitute that with hamburger?"

The Newmans became philanthropic in the 80's. They started "Newman's Own" line of salad dressing, popcorn, and pasta sauce. All the proceeds went to charity. They created the Hole in the Wall Gang youth ranches for disabled children. They stumped for political causes and candidates they believed in, such as Eugene McCarthy and George McGovern. They famously and vocally protested the Vietnam War, and Newman was proud to have made Richard Nixon's legendary enemies list. When Newman's son from his first marriage died of a drug overdose, they founded their own drug rehabilitation clinic and devoted themselves to that cause.

Newman's passion was race car driving, a passion he did not begin until middle age. Like everything else he did, he plunged into racing with energy and enthusiasm. He won amateur championships, and finished second one year at Le Mans. He was clearly a man who lived life to the fullest, and was not afraid to go for what he wanted.

Paul Newman personified class. A towering actor, a fine Oscar-nominated director, a succesful philanthropic businessman, and a reckless daredevil, he was never afraid to be the man he wanted to be. Paul Newman was above all, a devoted and dedicated family man who placed his wife and children first. He was an original, and an icon, and he will be sincerely missed.

I Need Some Jack

No, I'm not talking about money, although I could certainly use a whole bunch of that. Times are tough, the problems my wife and I are facing these days seem to be a microcosm of the tough times we are facing as a nation. I've been pretty down lately, the only relief coming when I play poker. It seems there's been a big, gaping hole in my life, and I just couldn't put my finger on it. And then it struck me. I need some Jack!! Big-time!! That is, I need my weekly fix of Jack Bauer.

If you don't know who I'm talking about, then read no more. This post is not for you, you won't get it, and you'll undoubtedly think I'm some kind of freak or loser. But if you know who Jack Bauer is, and if the mere mention of his name brought you any sort of anxiety or excitement or anticipation, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. I miss "24", I miss it badly. In fact, I've been "jonesing" for a new season of my favorite tv show ever since the last season ended.

Before I write anything more, understand that I'm no idiot. I'm a highly intelligent graduate of a major law school and have practiced law continuously for the last 22 years. I have a pretty high IQ, although I've done some pretty dumb things in the last few years. I know the difference between reality and fantasy, and I realize that "24" is no more real than the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. And to that I say, who cares. I love "24", and its disappearance the last year and a half has created a major void in my life.

For those who don't know, "24" was one of the victims of the recent writer's strike in Hollywood. It takes some pretty impressive writing to continue to come up with fascinating scenarios of Jack Bauer saving the nation from the latest terrorist plot to destroy/take over/poison/defoliate our country. And so, with the writers on strike, the new season of "24" which was scheduled to begin this past January was postponed to January, 2009. And that has left lunatic fans of Jack Bauer's (like yours truly) to find other ways to decompensate after we get home from our mundane jobs, like communicating with family, reading books, playing with the dogs, or working on projects around the house. Yuckkkk!!!!

I need to know what happened to Jack after the final fade-out from the previous season. I need to know what happened to Audrey, and why her dickhead father (who owes his life to Jack) is so dead set against them being together. I need to be amused by Chloe's latest antics. And I need to know what happened to President Palmer, not the great, recently assassinated President David Palmer, but his much less impressive brother, who also suffered an attempted assassination, Wayne Palmer. Yes, "24" gave us not one, but two black Presidents, brothers no less. The first was assassinated after he left office, and the second suffered a bomb explosion that left him near death at the end of the last season. Barack Obama better watch out.

I know that "24" can be silly, that it can be accused of exploiting stereotypes, that there is simply no way one guy can do so much, all in one day (which apparently never include meals or trips to the bathroom---where in the world does he get his stamina?). I know all that intellectually. Still, I find the show fascinating, exciting, breath-taking, suspenseful, amusing and endlessly entertaining. Isn't that what TV is all about?

Come back, Jack, I need you bad.

My Favorite Time of Year

Ah, September. The birds are chirping, football has begun, the scent of fall is in the air. And here, in the metropolitan Phoenix area, the temperature dipped today to a positively frigid 108.

September means pennant race time in baseball, and both my teams, the Mets and the D'backs are in the thick of the pennant race in their respective divisions. In fact, as I write this post, both my teams sit atop their divisions, and will play their respective second-place rivals this weekend. Sweet.

The D'backs have been in first place all season long. After a positively torrid April, they have pretty much coasted with a losing record ever since. In any other division, they would have been left for dead long ago, but in the putrid NL West, they still rule the roost, at least for now. They've been carried by their starting pitching, Brandon Webb, who seemed to have a lock on the Cy Young award two weeks ago, Dan Haren, who was probably the top offseason pick up until about two weeks ago, and Randy Johnson, who was doing his best impression of the Randy Johnson who won four consecutive Cy Young awards with the D'backs in the early years of this decade. The offense has pretty much stunk, despite the temporary lift that Adam Dunn gave the team when he joined them, and the bullpen started the season great, but has been horrible the last six weeks or so. Still, the D'backs were holding their own, and had a golden opportunity to put some distance between themselves and the Dodgers as the Dodgers lost eight in a row last week. So, what happened? The big three of Webb, Haren, and Johnson have all been shelled in their last two starts, the offense has continued to struggle, and the team was swept by the lowly Padres. During the Dodgers' eight game losing streak, the D'backs picked up only a half game in the standings, and now sit merely two games up in the loss column. They may be in second place after this weekend if the vaunted starting pitching doesn't turn things around immediately. The Dodgers, meanwhile, have won five in a row coming into this weekend's showdown, and they seem to have momentum. I have a hard time believing the D'backs can hold them off and win the division. Of course, if the Big Three revert back to their dominant ways, anything can happen, but without strong performances from Webb, Haren and Johnson, the Snakes haven't got a chance.

In the NL East, the Mets are trying not to repeat last year's disastrous choke job. The difference is, of course, that this year's team was not supposed to be in first place this late in the season. With a makeshift bullpen and an inconsistent starting rotation (other than Johan Santana and Mike Pelfrey), the offense has come alive. David Wright has already driven in a hundred runs, Carlos Delgado is knocking on the door to that milestone, and Carlos Beltran has heated up. Jose Reyes is setting the table nicely and Ryan Church is back. If the Mets can hold off the Phillies this weekend, they will look pretty solid, much different from last year when they always seemed on the verge of caving in. No predictions yet, but I really think this weekend is pivotal.

In the Central, the Cubs, despite their present slump, still look like the best team in the NL. They should win the division somewhat handily, despite the loss of Carlos Zambrano. As for the wild card, it will be a surprise if the Brewers don't win. Ryan Braun is having an MVP type year, and C.C. Sabathia has been unbelieveable since he joined the team. It has to be disappointing for the Cardinals and Astros, both of whom would be leading the West if they were there, to see their playoff hopes slowly slipping away.

In the AL, the Angels seemingly had their division locked up at the All Star Break. I keep waiting for the Rays to fall apart, but they've made a believer out of me, and I expect them to either finish in first place in the east, or end up with the wild card. The Yankees are clearly toast, and for the first time in seemingly forever, they will stay home in October. The AL Central is too close to call between the White Sox and Minnesota, and it will probably go down to the wire. Can you imagine if the Cubs, White Sox, and Red Sox all end up playing in the postseason in the same year? I'll be that hasn't happened very often.

The NFL started play tonight, and the World Champion Giants (boy does that feel weird typing that!!!) started their defense of their championship with a win over the Redskins. There is great anticipation in New York about the new-look Jets and their new quarterback, Bret somebody-or-other. Wouldn't you know that in Favre's first game with the team, he'll be facing deposed Jet quarterback Chad Pennington and the Miami Dolphins. The Jets seem to be heavily favored, but I wouldn't be surprised if Pennington pulls off the upset. He's certainly capable of that. Of course, both teams happen to play in the same division as the Patriots, and that is never good news.

Here in the desert, the city seems pretty excited about the Cardinals. The team that should have won at least ten games last year and been in the playoffs, had a .500 record for only the third time in their entire history in Phoenix. Kurt Warner has been dubbed to be the starting quarterback, and he will be throwing to two all pro receivers, Anquan Bolding (who has said he wants out of Phoenix) and Larry Fitzgerald. We'll see what happens.

And in college football, the team I've followed for the last 25 years, the Arizona Wildcats, throttled their first opponent by a score of 70-0. Of course, their opponent was basically on a par with a high school team, nevertheless the last time they beat any team by that kind of score was, like, never. It's put up or shut up time for Coach Mike Stoops in Tucson. Stoops has yet to have a winning season and the Cats haven't been to a bowl game since 1998. Anything less than a bowl berth this season, and Stoops is history. A pretty easy non-conference schedule should help.

What a great time of year. And isn't there some sort of election or something going on right now? Sweet! Now if the temperature would dip below the century mark, we can finally come out of our air-conditioned hiding.

Heroes

Heroes have always been important to most Americans. When I was a kid, growing up in a Long Island suburb of New York City, my heroes were Tom Seaver, Joe Namath, and John Lennon. Idolizing Seaver was easy, he was Mr. Perfect, the golden boy from California with the All-American blonde wife, the first superstar the New York Mets ever had, and probably still the best pitcher in their history. He was the first Mets pitcher to win the Rookie of the Year award, and the Cy Young award, and his 25-7 season for the 1969 Miracle Mets is still probably the greatest season that any Mets pitcher ever enjoyed (although Dwight Gooden's second season in 1985 is a close second).

Namath was the brash, young quarterback of the New York Jets who made those ridiculous boasts about beating the mighty Baltimore Colts in Super Bowl III. Back then, the Jets were part of the American Football League, the fledgling, "second-rate" league that was being regularly dominated by its NFL counterparts. The Jets were something like a 20 point underdog in that game, and Namath's outlandish boasts were ridiculed. Yet, somehow, he and his teammates managed to pull off what is still one of the greatest Super Bowl upsets, and bring the Jets the only championship in their history. The fact that Namath was sort of a playboy, a wild, swinging bachelor on the prowl in Manhattan only made him seem cooler to a kid like me.

John Lennon, of course, was one of the Beatles, and half of the incredible songwriting team of Lennon and McCartney. Lennon had the best, pure rock/soul voice of the group, his vocals were always powerful, his wit was always on display. He was brash, cocky, and not afraid to poke fun at anyone and anything. He was totally cool. Needless to say, he was my favorite Beatle. To understand the impact of the Beatles on a kid from the Long Island suburbs, you really had to live through it. I had all the records, the plastic guitars, the wigs, the trading cards, and who knows what else. I remember watching the Ed Sullivan performances, and seeing "A Hard Day's Night" at the local drive in, with cars full of screaming girls on either side of my parents' car. It was unreal, and there really has been nothing like it since.

As I grew older, my heroes came from other places. Bobby Kennedy, Al Lowenstein, and Jacob Javits from politics; Bruce Springsteen and Harry Chapin from music; and Stanley Kubrick, Jack Nicholson and Peter O'Toole from the world of film. More and more, though, my heroes have been sports figures, and more often than not, they have come from the Olympics.

The 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team was a team worthy of hero worship. Comprised of unknown college hockey players, they went up against the mighty Soviet team of professionals. It was a different world back in 1980, the Cold War was still raging, the Soviets had invaded Afghanistan, and it always seemed like we were on the edge of nuclear armageddon. The Soviet team was supposed to destroy the Americans, and indeed had beaten them something like 10-3 in the last exhibition game before the Olympics began. But before a largely pro-American crowd in Lake Placid (in upstate New York, probably some 250 miles from my home), the Americans pulled off the upset of that Olympics (or perhaps any Olympics) and beat the Soviets, 4-3, in what is now referred to as "The Miracle on Ice." I don't think there was an American anywhere who watched that game without getting a tear in their eye. Two days later, the upstart Americans won the gold medal, and were the darlings, and heroes, of their country.

And then there was American ice skater Dan Janssen. Janssen will go down in Olympic infamy as the guy who was skating in honor of his just-deceased sister, and who kept falling during his races and being unable to finish. Yet, he still kept coming back, and four years later, with his wife and baby daughter (named after that sister) watching, he finally won the gold medal. For someone like me, who had tried and failed so many times to succeed at a personal goal (which I won't mention here), his persistence and courage and perserverance were inspiring. He became one of my all-time heroes for those reasons, and after he finally won the gold, he skated around the ice with his baby daughter in his arms, and I cried like a baby.

The reason I'm writing about this must be obvious. Another Olympics is upon us, and another American athlete has taken this nation by storm, Michael Phelps. Shy, unassuming, yet ridiculously talented, Phelps has won eight gold medals at this year's Summer Olympics, and has become an American hero and icon. His performance may be the best of any Olympian in history, and his success has thrust him into the limelight as a true American hero. A good thing? I certainly don't see why not. In this age of pampered, spoiled millionaire athletes in sports such as baseball, basketball, and football, Michael Phelps seems like a breath of fresh air.

I know a lot of people who despise the Olympics. These people tend to share the belief that heroes should be parents, and teachers, and heroic historical figures such as Martin Luther King, Gandhi, and Abraham Lincoln. I certainly can't disagree with that. But if you can't get wrapped up in what has happened in the last ten days in Beijing, and feel proud of this marvelous young athlete, and the flag that he so proudly represents, well, then, you just don't get it. Michael Phelps, a hero? Absolutely. He makes us feel good about himself, and about ourselves, and what in the world could be wrong about that.

Is "The Dark Knight" as good as I think it is?

It's been a very long time since I've walked into a movie theater and come out thinking I'd seen a truly great movie. The truth is, I just don't go to very many movies in theaters anymore. The ticket prices are ridiculous, the concession prices are outrageous and one of the great rip-offs that American consumers allow of themselves. We actually pay the same price for a cup of soda that you pay to buy a twelve pack in Walmart. And what do I get for all that? Inconsiderate people who talk during the movie or fail to turn their cell phones off. Some kid who invariably sits behind me and kicks the back of my seat for the whole film. Coming attractions for eight movies that I have no interest in seeing, not to mention the commercials. Sheesh, I'd rather stay home and wait for the release of the DVD.

I suppose the last truly great movie I saw in a theater was "Lord of the Rings--The Return of the King", but really, that was only part three of one nine hour-long extravaganza that I had to wait several years to see in full. I don't think that film won the Academy Award for its own self, but really for the entire trilogy.

No, the last truly great movie I saw in a theater that wasn't part of a trilogy had to have been "American Beauty", which I believe is one of the best, if not the best, satire of American manners and morality that has ever been made. And, of course, I saw that movie way back in the year 2K. It's been a long time.

Now, I was looking forward to seeing "The Dark Knight", the sequel to "Batman Begins." I thought "Batman Begins" was excellent, and had totally re-invigorated the Batman franchise. Christopher Nolan, its director, had made one of the true classics of the last ten years, "Memento", which I have seen several times on DVD. Christian Bale was excellent in the roles of Batman/Bruce Wayne. And, of course, like everyone else, I had read a great deal about Heath Ledger, and his performance as The Joker.

I expected a good movie, perhaps even an excellent movie. I wasn't expecting a great movie, but that's what I got. The story is fascinating (I have no intention of telling it here, go see it for yourself), the cinematography, art design, and set design are all wonderful, creating a Gotham City that for once looks like a very real place. There is action, excitement, tension, mystery, and humor. The acting is superb, starting with Bale and ending with Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman, both excellent in small roles. Aaron Eckhardt is remarkably complex and fascinating as Harvey Dent, avoiding becoming a stereotype. Gary Oldman, one of the best actors in films today, was superb as Lieutenant-soon-to-become-Commissioner Gordon. Again, Oldman played a complex, interesting character, and not at all a stereotype.

Despite all that, this is Heath Ledger's film, pure and simple. I've never been all that impressed with Heath Ledger, including what was widely perceived as his break-out role in "Brokeback Mountain." And, considering the tragic circumstances of his recent death, it would be easy for his performance to be the subject of hype. But Ledger is simply amazing, one of the best performances ever in an American film, and the best performance of a villain since the very first time Anthony Hopkins played Hannibal Lector in "Silence of the Lambs." Ledger's Joker is not a cartoon clown, like Cesar Romero in the old Batman TV show (which I watched religiously as a kid), or a ludicrous freak, like Jack Nicholson in the Tim Burton film. This Joker is real, and complex, and totally evil. Every line, every mannerism, every tick by Ledger is absolutely perfect and just right. He completely nails the part, and he totally dominates the screen. You can't take your eyes off him. He is simply incredible, and he deserves every posthumous award he is sure to get.

I don't think I'm being a fanboy by saying "The Dark Knight" is the best comic book movie ever made. It is truly that great, and Heath Ledger's outstanding performance is one for the ages. But don't take my word for it, see it yourself. And see it in a theater, because for once, the outrageous cost more than makes up for itself with the dynamic sound and the big screen. The two and a half hours seemed to fly by, and I didn't even notice the little creep behind me kicking the back of my seat during the movie. I may even see it again---before it gets released on DVD. And that's truly saying something.

What a difference a couple of weeks make

ITEM ONE: POKER

As my last post documented, two weeks ago I was in Las Vegas and out of four poker tournaments played, I made the final table in none of them. This past week, I made it out to my favorite local Indian casino, and played in poker tournaments on Wednesday and Friday nights. Amazingly, I made the final table both times. Wednesday night I finished 7th, and Friday night I finished 6th. Wednesday night's tournament was fairly small (43 players), while Friday night's was considerably bigger (100 players). So, what in the world happened, did I suddenly become a better poker player in the span of approximately a week and a half?

Hardly. As I stated in my last post, success in no limit tournaments is very much dependent upon luck and good play. Skill will give you the ability to make the final table, but only the addition of luck can guarantee that you get there.

To illustrate, let me talk about Friday night's tournament, since my performance that night has to rank among my best of all time. Never once during the entire tournament did I get a high pocket pair, not even one time. No aces, kings, queens, or jacks, not even once. I got pocket tens three different times, Big Slick (AK) twice, and AQ once, which just happened to be the hand that I was eliminated with. I found myself bluffing confidently a couple of times, forcing my opponent(s) to fold, and I got lucky three times.

The first lucky hand was after the first break. Til then, I had been getting killed. A couple of brutal bad beats forced me to re-buy, and I also took the add-on at the first break. I was getting nowhere fast. I looked down at pocket tens in late position, and I went all-in. Only one person called, and he showed AK, the dreaded Big Slick. The flop contained a beautiful ten, giving me a set (three of a kind). Turns out I need all three of them, as the turn contained an Ace, and the river was a King. How's that for some good luck for a change? Later, I got AK for the first time, and I re-raised one person at the table. The flop was K-Q-4. The other guy went all in, I called. He turned over AQ. Oops, wrong time for that one, pal. My AK held up, and I knocked him out.

Much later, we were down to about two full tables and it wasn't looking good for yours truly. I was being blinded out and I only had enough for one last blind. I looked down at KQ, which is a trap hand and can lose very easily to AK or AQ. I normally try to avoid the trap hands, but there wasn't much choice left. I had to make a move, or risk being blinded out for good. I went all in, there was one caller. He turned over A5. And, glory be, there on that beautiful flop, was a nice fat King. The King held up, and I had knocked another guy out.

Then, I went on a rush. I had pocket tens the next hand. Four guys had limped in, and the last hand had suddenly given me a decent stack. I went all in, and they all folded. The next hand I had AK suited, and there were two limpers in front of me. I went all in again, and they both folded again. Suddenly, in the space of three pots, I was the chip leader at my table, and it looked very good indeed to make it to the final table.

Much later, at the final table, there were seven of us left. I was one of the two small stacks, although at that point in the tournament, 30,000 chips is a small stack, which is basically what I had. I was under the gun, which means I was first to act after the blinds. I was looking for the best opportunity to get my chips in. I looked down at J8, not a good hand, but it had possibilities, and I really didn't have many other options. I went all in. Only the big blind (the other small stack at the table) called. He had pocket deuces. And I sucked out. I ended up with a straight. I didn't last much longer. The other small stack was knocked out next, when his pocket aces got cracked. And I was the next to go, when my AQ suited never connected with anything and lost to pocket eights.

I finished in sixth place, out of a hundred people. Pretty darn good, in my opinion, especially considering the crap cards I got for most of the tournament. A nice tonic after the bitter disappointment of Vegas.



ITEM TWO: BASEBALL

Several posts ago, I was highly critical of the Mets after they had fired Willie Randolph and seemed to be floundering. Then, a funny thing happened. The atmosphere and mood of the team changed under Jerry Manuel. Carlos Delgado suddenly remembered how to hit, Jose Reyes started being a table-setter again, and the Mets went on a nine game winning streak right before the All Star Break. They are currently in first place, a game ahead of Philadelphia, and playing much better.

And the Diamondbacks? After a red-hot April, they sucked in May, June and the first part of July. They were still in first place at the All Star Break, but they had a sub-.500 record. As of this morning, they are still clinging to first place after sweeping the Giants on the road over the weekend. The Dodgers are holding fast, just a game behind, having also swept a weekend series (against Washington). The D'backs are playing much better, and they got some much-needed bullpen help, getting John Rauch in a trade with Washington. Still, the Dodgers are not going away, and it won't be easy holding them off.

Wow, both my teams in first place in their divisions in late July, both by only a single game. The pennant race in both divisions should be outstanding, and I'm looking forward to it. Let's go, Mets!! Let's go, D'backs!! I want to see you guys playing each other in the NLCS this year!!

The Perils of Tournament Poker

As I am writing this post, they are playing out the Main Event of the World Series of Poker at the Rio Hotel in Las Vegas. There are 37 players left, with nary a big name among them. All those guys like Hellmuth, Negreanu, Annie Duke, and all the rest are long gone. And, although I was in Vegas this weekend, my name is not there, either. I will have to wait at least one more year to get back to the WSOP.

I did manage to play in four tournaments this weekend, two each at the Sahara and the Stratosphere. It was not a good weekend for me, poker-wise, and it's all because of bad luck and bad beats. You see, you can have all the skills and poker knowledge in the world (not that I profess to have either), and it won't do a damn bit of good in a tournament if you don't have good luck and avoid bad beats.

Here's where the luck part comes in. Yesterday afternoon, I was playing in a tournament at the Stratosphere. 62 players started, and there were about 24 left. They were paying only the top six positions, and there was a way to go. So far, I had been holding my own with careful and strategic play, and a few calculated bluffs. But as far as cards, I had been getting squat. No big pairs, no top hands, and I was starting to get blinded out. Finally, I looked down at pocket kings, the best starting hand I had seen all day. One guy in front of me raised twice the big blind. I re-raised two thousand more. This particular guy had just recently gone all in with a stone cold bluff, 2-7 offsuit, and had made sure to show us and rub our noses in it. I thought he probably had a decent hand, but I still thought I had him beat. He re-raised me all in, and I called. I turned over my kings, and he turned over pocket aces. I couldn't believe it. The whole tournament I'm getting squah-doosh, I finally get a top pair like pocket kings, and this numbnuts has aces. Of course, the aces held up and I was knocked out, thoroughly and completely disgusted.

In fact, I was so thoroughly disgusted that I waited a whole three hours later to play in my next tournament, this time at the Sahara. Every time I'm in Vegas I like to play in the tournament at the Sahara. The buy in is cheap, they usually have about 15 tables for each tournament, and the competition is very good. It's an excellent test of my abilities, and I have probably played about ten tournaments there. I have gone deep in most of them, and the closest I got to the final table was finishing twelfth one time, but I have never made the final table. Last night was no exception.

For the first three hours I was doing well, and I got to the second break with the biggest chip stack at my table. And then I went card dead, which means I had terrible starting hands. I couldn't even bluff, since every pot was raised and the table was full of rocks, who usually had quality starting hands. My stack was going down, and I was in danger of being blinded out.

Finally, I was in middle position with pocket tens. I did a standard three times the big blind raise. Everyone folded except the big blind. He went all in, and I called. I had him covered by three thousand chips, and he turned over pocket eights. It looked I was going to double up my chip stack. Unfortunately, this is where the bad beat thing reared its ugly head. The flop was inconsequential, and the turn was a bust. And then came the river, a big fat eight, giving this jerk-head a set of eights, and pretty much putting me on the rail. A brutal, stinking bad beat, and I was just about gone. I went all in the next hand with AJ, and it looked pretty good when the flop showed jack high, but a queen on the river knocked me out, and I was done. Disgusting.

And that, my friends, pretty much sums up the perils of tournament poker. You have no control over the cards, and the best hand sometimes loses. Anyone who says luck doesn't play a part in tournament poker has never had pocket tens beaten by pocket eights. If you're going to win a tournament, you must play with skill, make the right decisions, have a bit of luck, and your good hands must hold up to win. If you don't have all of those, you're not going to win, whether your name is Phil Hellmuth or Brucefan is Back.

What's wrong with people?

Yesterday, I read online about the guy in suburban Rochester, NY who after playing a somewhat contentious softball game replete with alleged trash-talking, cold-cocked one of the opposing players in the back of the head as the two teams lined up to shake hands after the game. The report went on to say that the victim later died of those injuries. The suspect had fled the scene, but was eventually caught. It was later determined that the suspect had a felony criminal history and had served a four year prison term from 2003 to 2007.

I found the report disturbing for many reasons. First off, I'm no stranger to violent crime, as I have been a practicing attorney specializing in criminal defense for the last twenty-two years. Nevertheless, this particular crime, under these particular circumstances, seems to me to be just a little more reprehensible than most.

What could the victim possibly have said during the trash-talking that would warrant such an act of violence? Was it worth taking the man's life? I don't know if the victim had a wife or kids (the report I read made no mention of it), but I'm pretty sure he left behind some family that will be devestated by this for the rest of their lives. And the suspect undoubtedly has some family or relatives that love him who will now endure the pain of watching their loved one vilified, referred to by the media as some sort of monster, and prosecuted for this venal, horrific act. And for what? Some comment that the victim may have said that insulted the manhood of the other guy? Whatever happened to that old mantra, "sticks and stones may break my bones, but names can never hurt me?"

And what a cowardly, ugly way to exact revenge. The guy waits until the teams are lined up to shake hands at the end of the game, an act of good sportsmanship that is as traditional and revered as the games themselves. It's a time to put all the intensity and conflict of the game itself aside, and participate in the good feeling of sportsmanship. To pick that particular time to hit the victim is horrific enough, but to cold-cock the guy from behind in the back of the head, when he has no idea what's coming and is unable to defend himself is simply reprehensible.

What in the world would push someone to do something so venal, cowardly, and senseless? Is this who we are as a society? Is it always so necessary to be right, to exact a measure of revenge if someone insults your manhood or trash talks you in some other way? Frankly, I find the whole episode disgusting. And if this is indicative of what we are as a society, then I fear for us.