Poker, Bruce, and other stuff

Mrs. Brucefan and I just got back from a much-needed vacation. Tonight we celebrate the 10th anniversary of the night we met, so this was sort of a second honeymoon. It was wonderful. And I am happy to report that one of the highlights of the vacation, during the Las Vegas portion, was a second place finish in a poker tournament by yours truly. It was a nice conclusion to what has been an awful year for me poker-wise. In retrospect, I played very well, and got some nice breaks. As always, with Texas Hold'em, I also got some luck. About midway through the tournament, I was holding my own, with a medium to low stack. The blinds were increasing, and I needed to make a move soon. Ahead of me two players went all in, I had them both covered, and I looked down at A-J suited in spades. Normally, I would not call an all in with this hand, A-J not being a particularly strong hand. But I needed to make a move and I just had this gut feeling. I called. One guy turned over pocket 8's, the other guy had A-8. An ace came out on the flop, and the "case" 8 did not show up, so my pair of aces with the Jack kicker won the hand. I tripled up and knocked both guys out. It was the turning point for me.

From there, I continued to win some small pots, never with much of a hand, as I picked my spots and made moves at the right time. Soon we were down to the final table, but only six places paid out. The big stack did not want to chop, so we played it down, and then there were three of us. I got crippled with pocket deuces, when the board showed two higher pair, making the other guy's Ace kicker suddenly the winning hand. I then went all in three times in a row, winning all three times to get healthy again. Then, the guy in second place went all in, I folded and the big stack called. Second place had pocket queens, the big stack had an Ace, and when the flop showed an ace, number two was knocked out, and now it was just me and the big stack. We traded pots for a few hands, but I was low stacked to him, by almost 10 to 1. When I looked down at King-rag suited, I went all in. Absurdly, the big stack had A-K, the dreaded Big Slick. He called my all in, he paired his ace, and it was all over. Second place, a terrific finish, an extremely well-played tournament, and I was on cloud nine. I never did have to dig into my pocket for Vegas playing money after that, and I even donated to Mrs. Brucefan's fun in Vegas. Sweet!!!!

I caught The Boss's receipt of the Kennedy Center award the other night on TV. As a Springsteen fan for the last 34 years, it was somewhat shocking to see my rock hero sitting next to the First Lady, and to see the Obamas rocking out to Bruce's music. With this recognition and the Boss's performance at the Super Bowl last year, it's clear that Bruce has once again stepped up in the pantheon of icons. Jon Stewart's introduction was great, but the musical tributes to Bruce were somewhat lame, other than Sting's interpretation of "The Rising." And I still have to ask this question: has there ever been a top 40 hit quite like "Born to Run?" Thirty-four years later, that song still sounds fresh and exciting. Happy New Year, Bruce.

The Arizona Wildcats embarrassed themselves on national TV last night in the Holiday Bowl. What in heaven's name happened? Didn't the coaching staff realize they were there to play a football game and not to be on vacation? I'm sorry, I understand they had a nice year and were three seconds from playing in the Rose Bowl, but last night was an absolute disgrace. Mike Stoops is a bad coach, and an idiot. How do you not have your team prepared to play? I get it that Nebraska was the much better team, but the showing last night by the team from Tucson was horrible. It was painful to watch. I'm glad I didn't fork up the money to go to San Diego for the game, I would be furious right now if I had.

The honeymoon seems to be over for the Obama administration. This latest national security mess has turned out to be a fiasco. I think the President needs to make someone the fall guy, and that someone is Janet Napolitano, my former boss. Looks like our former governor bit off a bit more than she can chew with the new job in Washington. The Republicans are screaming for her head, and I think President O needs to comply to resurrect the viability of his Presidency. Bye bye, Janet, you should have stayed in Phoenix where you could do no wrong.

And finally, a few words about Stephen King, my favorite author. I previously wrote on this blog that King had been in a major funk for several years, until he came back big time last year with "Duma Key," his best book in a long time. Now, he's followed that up with "Under the Dome", a 1,000-plus page opus about a small town in Maine, and what happens when an invisible dome suddenly comes down and closes off the town to the rest of the world. It's a return to the kind of work King did with "The Stand" and "It", combining multiple characters and solid story-telling to churn out a solid page-turner. It's a bravura return to form for King, and I highly recommend it to all the "constant readers" out there.

All things considered, 2009 was a pretty good year. Happy New Year, everyone.

The Curse of the Wildcat, Part Two

Following the gut-wrenching defeat against the Oregon Ducks, the Arizona Wildcats had to play their arch-rival, Arizona State in Tempe. They were clearly the better team, as the Sun Devils are experiencing a serious decline these days. Nevertheless, a spirited Sun Devil team rallied in the second half to tie the game and wrenched the momentum away from Arizona. Late in the fourth quarter, the Wildcats were stuffed once again by the seeemingly reborn ASU defense, and the Cats had to punt away. The Sun Devil receiver signaled for a fair catch, the ball bounced through his hands, hit the turf, and ended up in the arms of the nearest Wildcat. Arizona ran the time down, kicked a game-winning field goal, and escaped with a lucky win against their in-state enemies.

The final regular season game of the year was at USC in the intimidating LA Coliseum. For those of you who don't follow Pac-10 football, USC has owned the conference for the past six years. They have won the conference each of those years in dominating fashion, and have often been in the BCS title picture. Needless to say, UA Coach Mike Stoops had never beaten them. For most of the game this past Saturday, the Wildcats looked good, but not quite good enough. They led for most of the first half, then fell behind as USC seemed to regroup. And then, after being stuffed on every possession in the second half, Arizona quarterback Nick Foles led the Wildcats on a fourth quarter drive, tossing a 39-yard touchdown pass to sophomore Juron Cryner for the go-ahead score with three and a half minutes left. The Wildcats then stopped the Trojans, and proceeded to run out the clock to finish the regular season with a statement victory. The U of A's final record was 8-4, 6-3 in conference play, good enough for a tie for second in the conference. They owned the tie-breaker over the other two teams, Oregon State and Stanford, since they had beaten both those teams head-to-head. Stoops finally had his victory over USC, the Cats and their fans were overjoyed to finish second in the conference, and the team will move on to the Holiday Bowl on December 30th, to once again face Nebraska (how's that for irony?).

But, oh, what might have been. There were so many little things in that Oregon game that could have turned out differently. So many bounces, so many freakish plays. This Arizona team should be headed to the Rose Bowl, to play Ohio State and be part of the BCS. Damn! The Curse of the Wildcat. What else can I say?

The Curse of the Wildcat

From 1982 to 2007, I lived in Tucson, Arizona. If you're a sports junkie like myself, and you live in Tucson, there is only one game in town, the University of Arizona Wildcats. During most of that period, I got to experience the era of Lute Olson basketball, as the U of A became a national power, garnering four Final Four appearances and one national championship.

As much as I may have enjoyed UA basketball, my true love was football. Since my first season in 1982, right up until I moved to Phoenix in 2007, I went to at least one game, and usually more. I often had season tickets, and watched the Wildcats tear my heart out every season.

The U of A plays in the Pacific 10 conference. The winner of the conference plays in the Rose Bowl, and since the Wildcats entered the conference, they are the only team to never play in the Rose Bowl game. They have been close, tantalizingly close, but they have never made it. There was the Desert Swarm team of the early 90's, the team of Tedy Bruschi, which came close, but blew a big lead in a game against Cal which lost them the conference, and had to console itself with a New Year's Day whipping of Miami in the Fiesta Bowl. Then there was the equally dominant team of Chris McAlister in the late 90's, a team that, but for a fourth quarter meltdown against UCLA, would have gone undefeated and made the Rose Bowl. Instead, that team went to the Holiday Bowl in San Diego and beat Nebraska.

After that, the Wildcats imploded. Long-time coach Dick Tomey was run out of town, his replacement, John Mackovic, was an unmitigated disaster. The school then hired Mike Stoops to helm the football team, on the assumption that he would be a carbon copy of his brother, Bob, the head coack at Oklahoma. It hasn't quite worked out that way.

It's been a hard road for Stoops. He inherited a program in shambles, and has built it back to some semblance of respectability. His recruiting ability has been exceptional. His in-game coaching, however, leaves something to be desired. He's something of a loose cannon, and can often be seen screaming on the sidelines at his players, his coaches, or the refs. If he gets a lead, he then goes into a conservative, play-not-to-lose shell, and that more often than not leads to disaster.

Last year, Stoops led the Wildcats to their first bowl game in ten years, as the Wildcats went to the Las Vegas Bowl, and came out with a victory. This year, they found themselves at 6-3 last night, in second place in the conference, and able to win the conference and go to the Rose Bowl if they won out their last three games, starting with last night's game at home against the conference-leading Oregon Ducks.

The Wildcats would have, should have, could have won last night's game. They played toe to toe with Oregon all night long, they put up 41 total points, and led 31-24 with four minutes left in the game. They stuffed Oregon on fourth down, and took over in excellent field position. All that was left was a couple of first downs and a field goal to ice the game. Yeah, right. Instead, quarterback Nick Foles threw a desperation pass into the end zone, which glanced off his receiver's hands into the arms of a defender for an interception. Oregon marched down the field, converted twice on fourth down, and scored the tying touchdown with six seconds left. Sheesh.

The Ducks scored in the first overtime, as did the Wildcats, but instead of going for the win right then and there with a two-point conversion, Stoops opted to tie the game and go into a second overtime, which is where Oregon won the game. I am heartsick. Looking back, the following things occurred in this game:

---Oregon fumbled twice in the first half, and despite an Arizona defender being right there to pick up the ball, the Ducks recovered.

---Arizona was driving for a first quarter touchdown, when the receiver fumbled the ball at the two, once again an Arizona player was right there, but the ball ended up on the arms of an Oregon defender.

---Early in the third quarter, Arizona missed a chip shot field goal, after they had made a 47 yarder to end the first half.

---Late in the fourth quarter, an Arizona defender dropped a sure interception. Oregon ended up trying for a field goal, the low kick hit the crossbar, bounced up in the air, and fell over the bar for a field goal.

It was sickening. It's bad enough to get beat, but when luck and every bounce goes the other team's way, it is heart-breaking. If any one of those things mentioned above happened differently, the game would have most likely turned out differently.

Instead, the Wildcats lost again. They broke my heart again. Their Rose Bowl hopes were dashed by a bunch of Ducks. From Oregon. Quack, quack.

My ten favorite scary scenes in horror movies

Happy Halloween. To celebrate, here is a list of my ten favorite scary scenes in horror movies, not in any particular order. Beware of spoilers, since I can't make this list without revealing some.

1. I have to start this list with the granddaddy of them all, so my numero uno is the legendary shower scene from "Psycho." Even today, almost sixty years later, when you know what's coming and perhaps have watched the scene dozens of times, like I have, it never ceases to rivet my attention and scare me. If you watch closely, you'll see that never once does Hitchcock show the knife entering Janet Leigh's body. And that soundtrack is simply unbelieveable. In my humble opinion, the best of the best.

2. The arm coming out of the grave in "Carrie." It sounds so lame when you type the words like I just did, but really, there is no other scene in the history of cinema with the power to make you jump right out of your seat as this one. With the serene, lovely, build-up, and the sweetly innocent music on the soundtrack, this is an incredible illustration of the power of cinema.

3. The creepy little girl coming out of the TV in "The Ring." These days, it takes a lot to scare me when I watch a movie, but this was the creepiest and scariest in a movie filled with creepy, scary scenes.

4. Danny on his Big Wheel in "The Shining." For the most part, the classic scary Stephen King books just don't translate well onto the big screen, and Kubrick's film is nowhere near as scary as King's novel. But when little Danny rides his Big Wheel through the Overlook Hotel, rounds a corner, and sees those two creepy little long-dead girls, who then say "Come and play with us, Danny", man, it gets me every time.

5. "The Exorcist." I suppose you can take your pick of scary scenes from this movie, but my favorite is when Father Karras goes into the bedroom and sees the written message "Help Me" slowly materialize on Regan's chest. Much more effective than all the split pea soup/vomit scenes.

6. The first appearance of Pennywise, the Clown in "It." Like "The Shining," Stephen King's novel is far more scary than the TV mini-series, but the scene where Little Georgie chases his toy boat along the puddles in the street, then watches it go down the storm drain, only to see a creepy, scary clown down there in the drain, is scream-out-loud frightening.

7. The opening sequence of "Halloween." There are many terrifying moments in John Carpenter's classic, but it's hard to top the terrifying sequence of little Michael Myers spying on, and then massacring his older sister and her boyfriend, all shown from his point of view. A virtuoso piece of film-making.

8. The birds gathering on the playground while Tippi Hedren obliviously smokes a cigarette in "The Birds." This scene is not scary, per se, but is an excellent example of how to build suspense. We can see the birds gathering behind her, and we want to shout out to her to look out, but obviously we can't, and we can only watch as the danger ratchets up, while our heroine has no clue what's about to happen. Hitchcock was truly a master.

9. The wolf attack in "American Werewolf in London." Until this scene, the movie is light and funny and goofy. Sure, the patrons of the Slaughtered Lamb are creepy as they tell our two heroes to be aware, but it's played for laughs and hard to take seriously. And then comes the realization that Jack and David are lost on the moors, something is following them, and all of a sudden..... Truly frightening.

10. The scene in the original "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" when Miles realizes that his girlfriend, Cathy, has given in and fallen asleep and is now one of the aliens. The expression of pure horror on Miles' face is classic, and the feeling of hopelessness and helplessness is palpable.

I'm sure I've left a bunch of classic scenes out, but for now, this is my list. Hope you enjoy it.

Justice and Roman Polanski

Thirty years ago, Roman Polanski had vaginal and anal sex with a thirteen year-old girl. He claimed it was consensual, the victim claimed otherwise, and the law said something totally different. The law in virtually every state in this country is that a thirteen year-old child is incapable of giving consent to sexual activity due to that child's immaturity. Sex with a thirteen year-old, whether the thirteen year-old was willing or not, is a crime. It was a crime thirty years ago, and it is a crime today. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Polanski entered into a plea agreement wherein he would not be doing any jail time. He pled guilty to sexual conduct with a minor and awaited sentencing. Prior to the sentencing hearing, the judge ended up having an ex-parte communication with the prosecutor. An ex-parte communication is one made between a judge and only one of the parties to a legal action. It is not permissible under any circumstances, something which every judge and attorney is well aware. Word got out to Polanski about the ex-parte communication, and that the judge intended to reject the plea agreement because he wanted Polanski to do some jail (or prison) time. The smart thing to do would have been for Polanski's attorney to immediately file for a change of judge for cause, since the judge had an impermissible ex-parte communication with the prosecutor. It would have been no problem getting another judge, one who very well may have stayed with the original plea agreement. Instead, Polanski fled the country and has never been back.

For the last thirty years, Polanski has lived in France (which has no extradition treaty with the United States) most of the time, and Switzerland (which does have such a treaty) part of the time. Every time the authorities learned that Polanski was in Switzerland, they tried to get the paperwork in order to have him extradited back to the United States to face the charges from which he fled. But Polanski has either gotten wind of it, or never stayed in Switzerland long enough. Finally, this month, the authorities learned of Polanski's intention to go to Switzerland to receive a lifetime achievement award, and they had the extradition paperwork ready, which led to Polanski's arrest this week. He is facing extradition to the United States to face sentencing for the charge he pled to thirty years ago.

Roman Polanski has certainly led a difficult, tragic, and at times, triumphant life. He was a victim of the Holocaust as a child, and watched his mother be murdered by the Nazis. He survived that tragedy, and became a film director in his native Poland. His first great movie was "Knife in the Water," a challenging and highly enjoyable mystery/thriller. He eventually emigrated to America, and directed several highly regarded movies, including the horror classic "Rosemary's Baby" and one of the greatest crime thrillers of all time, "Chinatown."

He married a beautiful young actress/model named Sharon Tate in the late 60's, moved into a sprawling Bel Air mansion, and awaited his first child. While he was in Europe working on a movie, Sharon and some friends who were visiting her were viciously attacked and murdered by members of the Charles Manson family. The killers stabbed their victims multiple times and wrote cryptic messages in their blood. Sharon Tate pleaded with the murderers to spare her baby, but both mother and unborn child were massacred. Polanski rushed home from Europe to identify what was left of his beautiful wife.

For a number of years after that, Polanski remained in Hollywood, making movies and trying to get over the horror of the murders. His films were edgy and filled with violent images, and there was no doubt that he was using his art as a sort of catharsis. There was no denying, however, the brilliance of his artistry, which culminated with "Chinatown", which many film buffs to this day consider to be Polanski's best film and Jack Nicholson's best performance.

And then came the statutory rape of the 13 year-old girl, and Polanski's subsequent self-imposed exile. He continued to make movies from abroad, some good, some not-so good. He attained his earlier artistic heights with "The Pianist" several years ago, a Holocaust story which won him the Best Director Oscar, which of course, he was unable to personally receive. His Hollywood friends and colleagues clamored for his pardon and return to America. There was even a suggestion from a new judge (the original judge had since passed away) that he would give a fresh look to the case, and probably would not insist on jail time, which was consistent with what the victim (now a woman in her early forties) desired. But Polanski would have to voluntarily surrender himself and come to court. Unfortunately for him, he never did.

As I write this, Roman Polanski sits in a Swiss jail cell, waiting to see if he will actually be extradited to the United States. Many people, especially those on the left and in Hollywood, are screaming in indignation, claiming that an artist like Polanski, who has given so much and suffered so much, should be pardoned for something that occurred so long ago, especially since the victim herself agrees. Others are furious that the suggestion is even being made, and they insist that Polanski should be extradited and face punishment.

Certainly, Roman Polanski has suffered much personal tragedy in his life. It wasn't enough that he watched his mother be killed by the Nazi death machine and barely survived himself. No, he had to suffer the horrific murder of his young wife and his unborn child. My heart will always go out to him for that.

And I agree that Roman Polanski is a gifted and talented film director. His greatest films will live forever, and he has given us much. Nothing can take that away.

Neither of those points matter, however, in my opinion. Roman Polanski is a criminal. He took advantage of a young girl, and raped her, both vaginally and anally. He pled guilty and then fled justice, and has basically been flaunting his fugitive status, living in luxury in Europe for all these years. If one of my clients did that, you can bet that he/she would be brought back and punished severely. The same should apply to Roman Polanski, he should not get a free pass because he has experienced tragedy in his life and became a gifted film artist.

I especially feel badly for the victim in this case. The poor lady does not want to be the center of this media circus concerning an incident that happened to her three decades ago, she just wants to get on with her life. And while I sympathize with her wishes, this case is about more than that, it is bigger than just her. This is about justice, the American criminal justice system, and it is about right and wrong. It is wrong to allow Roman Polanski to get away with what he did. It is right to have him extradited back to to America to face sentencing for his crime. It just doesn't get any simpler than that.

Pete Rose

I haven't written much about baseball this year, for the simple fact that both my teams have been awful. The Mets have been beset by injuries to their stars, and the prospects they have called up have been hopeless. After two straight years of late-season collapses, the Mets have followed it up with one of their most inept seasons in years. It's time to start all over again, blow the whole thing up. Get rid of Omar Minaya, Jerry Manuel, and all their henchman, and start the re-building process. Again.

As for the Diamondbacks, their demise is much more perplexing. It's hard to comprehend, watching their total ineptness this season, but this is basically the same team that got to the NLCS two years ago. Of course, Brandon Webb, their Cy Young-winning ace has been out all season, but the rest of the team is intact. Mark Reynolds has had a great season, Justin Upton has been great at times, and not so great at others, and Dan Haren deserves the Cy Young award, but obviously won't win it. The rest of the team has stunk. Chris Young has turned into a major head case, and there are too many guys who have played without any desire or emotion. It's been sad to watch, or not watch, as the case may be.

So, without any team to root for, and seeing that teams I despise (i.e., the Yankees, the Cardinals, etc.) are cruising along with major leads in their respective divisions, I have pretty much ignored baseball, something I don't think I've ever done before. I have, however, managed to read Pete Rose's book, "My Prison Without Bars." Now, before I get on my soapbox, let me say that I have never liked Pete Rose, not since that October afternoon when he upended Buddy Harrelson and then proceeded to beat the crap out of him (at least that's how I choose to remember it). The sprinting to first base on a walk, the barreling into Ray Fosse at home plate in the All Star game (which pretty much ended Fosse's career), and all the other Rose crap always seemed like so much BS to me. Oh, I've always admired him for his baseball skills, you can't be a true fan of the game and not appreciate his accomplishments. But I never liked the guy.

So when Rose got caught for betting on baseball, and cheating on his income taxes, and was banned from baseball, denied admission to the Hall of Fame, and did some time in a Federal prison, I shed nary a tear. If you can't do the time, don't do the crime. He got what he deserved. And all these years of being banned from baseball were deserved, in my humble opinion. Why in the world should I feel sorry for Pete Rose?

The truth is, I don't feel sorry for Rose, reading his book has not changed that. But reading the book has solidified one thought I've always had about Rose, and that is that he belongs in the Hall of Fame. In my opinion, the Baseball Hall of Fame is about accomplishments on the baseball field. If you're going to bring character up as a consideration, then you better start talking about kicking Ty Cobb out of the hall. Not to mention every player who ever used drugs, whether it's steroids, greenies, cocaine, or what have you. And let's not forget the wife-beaters, and the criminals (yes, drunk driving is a crime). The truth is that character has never had anything to do with being worthy of Hall of Fame enshrinement, and should have nothing to do with it.

Pete Rose is the all-time leader in hits. He won three championship rings, and an MVP. He was a fixture in the All-Star game, and he was one of the main cogs on one of the greatest teams of all time, the Big Red Machine of the 1970's. He has the pedigree, and the intangibles. So, why is he not in?

Well, Pete Rose bet on baseball games, and that is the cardinal no-no of baseball, the one rule that, if broken, will get a player banned from the game. It's all about the integrity of the game, and the direct result of the Black Sox scandal, wherein members of the Chicago White Sox conspired to throw the 1919 World Series with some degenerate gamblers and criminals. It's why Shoeless Joe Jackson, who also has the pedigree for the Hall, will never get in.

For the longest time, Rose denied betting on baseball, but he has since come clean. If there was any doubt, all you have to do is read "My Prison Without Bars." He is forthright and honest about his betting activities. But he never bet against his team, and he never did anything to influence the outcome of a game he had bet on. The rule is iron-clad, and Rose's agreement with then-Commissioner Bart Giamatti was that he would accept a lifetime ban from the game. It would seem the case is closed, as far as that is concerned.

But the Hall of Fame question is different. The Hall of Fame is not really part of Major League Baseball, it is a museum in Cooperstown, New York. It celebrates the game and honors its greatest players. It is filled with tremendous players of questionable character, and it is incomplete without Pete Rose.

Rose deserves to be in, there is simply no question about that. His punishment for his crimes should be his continued banishment from being part of the game and earning a living in the game. That punishment should not extend to enshrinement in the Hall of Fame. Pete Rose's plaque should be there, along with Johnny Bench, Tony Perez, and Joe Morgan. His continued absence is a travesty.

Ted Kennedy

I have always been conflicted about Ted Kennedy. He's not the mythical, god-like figure that his martyred brother, Jack, has become in our hearts and minds. He's not the intellectual equivalent of his other murdered brother, Bobby. His presidential aspirations were destroyed one tragic night when he either deliberately allowed his passenger to die or was negligent in not being able to save her. He has had problems with alcohol and womanizing, and he played a role in the events that led to his nephew, William Kennedy Smith, being accused and put on trial for sexual assault. His shortcomings have been on display for the whole nation to see over the last four decades.

On the other hand, he spent 47 years in the United States Senate, became the voice of the Democratic Party, and was responsible for much legislation that has positively affected American's lives over the years. He wasn't afraid to wear the liberal mantle, and he wasn't ashamed to proudly work for liberal causes and issues.

He devoted his life to public service, and he paid a high price for it. He watched his beloved two older brothers be murdered, and he was forced to assume the role of family leader and patriarch. He walked his niece down the aisle at her wedding, and provided comfort and support to his widowed sisters-in-law. At times, he behaved in public like an alcoholic and he apparently overcame that over the past few years. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that he spent the last decade or so in recovery. He went through a bitter divorce, and tragic medical issues with his son. Seemingly, he got through and overcame all of that.

He never could escape the legacy of Chappaquidick. I don't believe the public has ever known the true facts of what happened. The worst that can be said is that Ted was drunk, was driving Mary Jo Kopechnie somewhere to have sex with her, had an accident and drove off the bridge (perhaps due to his alleged intoxication), saved himself from drowning, and when he couldn't save her, waited for hours until he sobered up to call the police. We don't know if that is what truly occurred, but that is the version that the Kennedy-haters have put forth ever since. Whether true or not, there were enough disturbing questions and issues left from that event to haunt Kennedy for the rest of his life. Many people believe he bought himself out of having to suffer serious consequences for his actions. Many people have never forgiven him for that. It cost him a serious run at the presidency and will forever stain his legacy.

In death, what has been most talked about are his accomplishments and leadership in the Senate, and his ability to overcome his private demons. Unlike his brothers, who in death have become larger than life, Ted Kennedy has remained a human being, flawed like everyone else, but able to withstand and overcome those personal flaws, and have a significant impact on this nation. When you look at it that way, perhaps he really was the greatest of the Kennedy's. In any event, his passing was truly significant, the end of an era. His influence will be felt for decades to come, and he will be missed.

Tarantino

When I was in high school and college, my world revolved around film. It was never referred to as movies, it was always "film" or "cinema." I worshipped directors like Kubrick, Truffaut, and Bergman. I wrote film reviews for my college newspaper and I served on the student programming board, on the film committee, of course. Nothing was more important to me.

As time went on, other things, such as making a living, getting married, and having a family slowly took over. I became less obsessed. I still enjoyed movies and reading film reviews, but had long since given up the fantasy of becoming a film critic. And every now and then, I would discover some new director who would so inflame my film passions that I became a total fanboy. In the 70's, it was Scorcese. In the late 80's/early 90's, it was Oliver Stone. And since the first time I saw "Pulp Fiction", it's been Quentin Tarantino.

There is really no director making films these days like Tarantino. People either worship him or despise him, but there is no denying his influence on modern-day cinema. A new Tarantino film is a cause for celebration, and each new film breaks different ground for the director. I don't believe I'm being a fanboy by saying he's the most exciting director out there these days.

The first real Tarantino film (despite the fact that he did not actually direct it) was "True Romance." A quirky, off-beat, brazen mix of romance, comedy, action and violence, "True Romance" boasted a then-unknown cast that reads like a Hollywood who's who: Brad Pitt, Val Kilmer, Dennis Hopper, Christopher Walken, James Gandolfini, Samuel L. Jackson, Gary Oldman and others valiantly support Christian Slater and Rosanna Arquette in the lead roles. The brilliant dialogue, never more incisive than in the classic scene between Hopper and Walken, bursts out like street poetry. Maybe Tarantino only wrote the screenplay, but his mark is all over this film.

Next came "Reservoir Dogs", a caper film unlike any other. It was Tarantino's first turn as director, and we never actually see the botched robbery, only the events leading up to it, and immediately after it. Such Tarantino staples as graphic violence and constant use of profanity were seamlessly woven into the fascinating story. And I shouldn't forget Tarantino's use of popular music, and not just on the soundtrack. No one who has ever seen this film can listen to the Steelers Wheel song "Stuck in the middle with You", and not think of this picture.

But it was his next film which really cemented Tarantino's position as an auteur and artist. That film, of course, was "Pulp Fiction". If "Citizen Kane" created the glossary of film-making, paving the way for everything that came after it, "Pulp Fiction" took it to a whole new level. I won't go into a description of the film itself, by this time, you've either seen it or not; you either love it or not. Suffice to say, it was the most exciting, original film to come out of Hollywood in many years.

Tarantino's next films, "Jackie Brown", the "Kill Bill" films, and "Grindhouse" were all fascinating, well-made films that towered above most of the other crap you could see at the multiplex. But as good as they were, they felt like "lesser Tarantino." They were certainly entertaining and a joy to watch, but they did not get the adrenaline flowing like his first three movies.

That all changed with the release of "Inglourious Basterds." Part war film, part ode to cinema, part revisionist history, the film is Tarantino's fantasy of how he would have ended World War II if he had been made God for a day. Like most Tarantino, the film is funny, engrossing, tense, absorbing, frightening, and violent. The acting is superb, especially the unknown German television actor, Christoph Waltz as the Jew-hunting Nazi, Hans Landa. The dialogue is superb, the tension in some of the scenes is unbearable. And the climax, in what is clearly an homage to Fritz Lang's "Metropolis" contains images which have stuck with me ever since I saw the film. This is probably Tarantino's most personal film, containing the themes and values which he undoubtedly holds dear. And it is simply unforgettable.

There are far too many schlockmeisters in Hollywood today, turning out dreck like "GI Joe." There are only a few true artists, who somehow have figured how to make personal visions in films that are nevertheless popular and successful. Tarantino is that rare film artist who does things his way, is true to his vision, yet never forgets that his primary purpose is to entertain. There is no one out there like him, and nobody makes films like he does. Like Orson Welles so many years before him, Tarantino is a true film genius. Don't miss his latest masterpiece.

The arrogance of Bob Dylan

There are certain performers in the world of classic rock music who are nothing short of icons. Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger, Pete Townshend, Eric Clapton, people like that. Some would argue that the biggest icon of them all is Bob Dylan. Certainly, Dylan has had as much influence on popular music as anyone else has over the last 40 or so years. While I am not a Dylan fanboy, I certainly like a great deal of his music, and respect the man for what he has accomplished.

While I have seen live most of the greats of classic rock, there are a few glaring exceptions. One of those exceptions is Dylan, and I was looking forward with great anticipation to the concert he was to have played in an outdoor spring training stadium in Phoenix tomorrow night. I use the term "was to have played", because this past Friday, the "great one" cancelled the show. He apparently also cancelled his show the next night in Las Vegas. And the reason for the cancellations? The heat. Wait, let me say that again, the heat. The damn heat, for crying out loud!!

I mean, give me a break. It is no secret that it is brutally hot in Phoenix and Las Vegas during the summer, anyone who has ever been to those places can tell you that, not to mention those of us who have lived here for more than a quarter of a century. Plenty of musicians and entertainers come here in the summertime, anyway, knowing full well that it's going to be a hot night. I saw Paul McCartney in a sweltering Sun Devil Stadium on a hot July night in 1990. A few years before that, I saw The Police at Phoenix Giants Stadium (rip) on a night when the temperature hit 115. They both gave tremendous shows. True, at one point, Sting had to stop and drink about a gallon of water, but it didn't affect his performance. Those were two of the best concerts I have ever enjoyed.

Dylan, on the other hand, is simply an arrogant prima donna. It can't possibly be a surprise to him and his entourage that it is hot in Phoenix in August. What in God's name were they thinking? And don't they care in the slightest about the thousands of fans who were looking forward to the show? Don't we count for anything?

I am beyond disgusted. If the heat in Phoenix (and apparently Vegas) was going to be an issue, then why weren't we placed in a different spot on the tour. It's not hot here all year long. Why not play here in April or October? Why dangle the carrot if you're just going to pull it away? Would it have been so difficult to be the slightest bit considerate and schedule the Phoenix show for a cooler time of year?

It's pretty obvious to me that Dylan just doesn't care. Pretty damn arrogant of him, in my humble opinion. So, I tell you what, Bob. You and I are done. I don't buy another pair of tickets, I don't buy any more of your music. You get no more money from this Arizona desert rat. You obviously don't care about me, and I don't need you. Adios, Bob.

The Desert Island---Part I

I belong to one of those internet social networks, and one of the fun things I did a while back was list my "Desert Island discs", that is, the 15 albums or CD's that I would have to have with me if I was stranded on a desert island. That was so much fun that I figured I would bring the concept over to my blog. Part I is going to list the 10 DVD's that I would have to have with me, then I will list the albums/CD's in Part II, the books in Part III, and toys in Part IV. We'll see how it goes. So, in no particular order, here are the top 10 movies/DVD's that I would need to have with me on my desert island and why:

1. The Godfather
My all-time favorite movie, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you why. I couldn't live out the rest of my life happily if I couldn't experience all over again Marlon Brando uttering the immortal line "I made him an offer he couldn't refuse", Al Pacino making his bones in the Italian restaurant, James Caan having his way with one of the bridesmaids at his sister's wedding, Caan again this time meeting his violent end at the Jones Beach tollbooth, and the superbly done baptism sequence of Carlo and Connie's baby. The best gangster movie ever made and more than worthy of its Academy Awards and legendary status.

2. It's A Wonderful Life
I did a blog entry some months ago about why I identify with George Bailey, so I won't go into it all again. This film is timeless and makes me cry every time I watch it. And consider this, I first showed this film to my stepson and stepdaughter eight years ago. They are now 17 and 14, moody and cynical, and very much a product of their time. Nevertheless, they still insist on seeing this black-and-white, made-in-1946 film every Christmas eve. I think that says it all.

3. The Searchers
Anyone who has ever been cynical about John Wayne should see this film. The Duke does a tremendous job of acting, and actually makes you care about a character who is racist, sexist, violent, and thinks nothing of shooting people in the back. The photography is gorgeous, the story is absorbing, and the entire production is simply beautiful. John Ford, one of the great masters of American cinema, never made a better movie.

4. Pulp Fiction
Many people don't "get" Quentin Tarantino, and I can understand why. This film, however, is simply a masterpiece. With its lopsided chronology, amazing dialogue, fascinating moral dillemas and tremendous acting, the film continues to engage and entertain. Too many unforgettable sequences to name them all, but just a few are: Travolta and Thurman's wonderful dance at Jackrabbit Slim's, Samuel L. Jackson's monologue supposedly quoting the Bible just before he kills Frank Whaley, Bruce Willis and Ving Rhymes meeting up with Zed and his buddies, and the infamous adrenaline shot scene. Dang, I want to go put it in my DVD player right now just thinking about it.

5. JFK
It's sad to see that Oliver Stone has become such a hack, and I admit that the film plays fast and loose with historical fact. Nevertheless, this is an absorbing and endlessly entertaining movie, which never ceases to get me worked up every time I watch it. I don't know if there was a conspiracy to kill JFK by the Mafia, the Cubans, the military, etc. But I certainly don't believe Oswald acted alone, and this film serves to bring out those feelings. Kevin Costner as an extremely fictionalized Jim Garrison, and the rest of the cast, are enthralling. One of the most "cinematic" films ever made.

6. Goodfellas
I love gangster movies, especially when they are done well, and this one is as great as any. I also idolize Martin Scorcese, who has made more great films than most directors. This one is my all-time favorite of his. A relentless, powerful narrative, driven by tremendous performances from Ray Liotta (never better), Robert DeNiro, Paul Sorvino and Academy Award winner Joe Pesci. This is also Scorcese's most inventive film, with freeze frames, slow motion, montages done to rock music and Liotta's narration, and the famous tracking shot of Liotta and Lorraine Bracco entering a nightclub through a back door, walking down hallways, through a busy kitchen, past busboys and chefs and waiters, and finally into the club itself where they are given a makeshift table and chairs right up front. It's all done in one unbroken shot and it is simply amazing.

7. Casablanca
Do I really need to say anything about this movie? Is there anyone out there who doesn't love it? The definitive Bogart performance, the luminous Ingrid Bergman role, the wonderfully sly and corrupt Claude Rains, the creepy Peter Lorre, etc. Probably the most loved film of all time, endlessly watchable and timeless. Here's looking at you, kid.

8. Z
Here's my one personal favorite that most people will probably scratch their heads over. If you've ever seen this film, you understand its power and greatness. But most people today, especially young people, know nothing about Z. A French-made film about a true assassination of a Greek politician, the film is directed by Constantin Costa-Gavras, a wonderful director who has also become almost forgotten today. With a relentless pace and fascinating story, not to mention one of the all-time great movie scores, the story enfolds and engulfs the viewer, eventually leaving you completely worn out. I saw this film for the first time when I was 11 years old in 1969. My cousin and I were both blown away by its power, and it remained my favorite film for most of my life. If you see no other movie I list in this blog entry, make sure to check out Z. You won't regret it.

9. The Manchurian Candidate
Forget about the remake with Denzel Washington, the original is one of the most powerful and wickedly funny political films ever made. The brainwashing sequence, where Frank Sinatra and Laurence Harvey's patrol are made to believe that they are at a ladies social club meeting, is one of the most intense sequences in cinema. The rest of the movie is equally relentless, and while the acting of the leads (Harvey, Sinatra, and the beautiful Janet Leigh) is merely adequate, the performances of the supporting players, especially a terrifying Angela Lansbury as Harvey's evil mother, are tremendous.

10. Paths of Glory
I couldn't be stranded on a desert island without a Kubrick film, and I have always believed that this is his best. While most people would pick a different Kubrick masterpiece (whether it be 2001, Dr. Strangelove, A Clockwork Orange, The Shining, etc.), I feel that this powerful, tight, relentless anti-war film is the most complete film in Kubrick's oeuvre, and the closest he ever got to perfection. The trench warfare scenes are unbelieveable, the set design is magnificent, and the acting is universally solid, including Kirk Douglas in what I believe was his best performance, and Adolph Menjou perfectly capturing all the nuances of a truly evil general. The execution scene is one of the most emotionally wringing sequences in the history of cinema.

And there you have it. The ten movies I simply couldn't live without.

Reaching a Poker Milestone

Every time I am in Las Vegas, I make sure to play at least one poker tournament at the Sahara. This is where I played in my first poker tournament four and a half years ago. The buy-in is cheap, the structure is fair, and the tournaments are usually filled with good players.

Last night, I played in the 11:00 p.m. tournament. Even though we are not staying at the Sahara, going over there to play in the tournament is like coming home, someplace that has become so familiar and comforting that it feels like I belong there. Despite that, I have never made the final table at the Sahara. I've come tantalizingly close a number of times, but never quite made it over the hump.

Until last night, or rather I should say, this morning. I started off well, playing my usual game, not entering a whole lot of pots, waiting for good starting hands. When I did enter the pot, I played aggressively. At the first break, I had built my stack from four thousand chips to fifteen thousand. I didn't even bother to do a re-buy.

As the game wore on, I would move down in chips and then come up with a big hand to stay afloat. With the blinds at 400/800, I limped in with KQ offsuit. No one raised. The flop came KQ7, rainbow. One guy bet out 2000 chips, I raised when it got to me. Everyone else folded, he re-raised me all in, and I called. This guy inexplicably had K4, obviously thinking he had the nuts (the best hand). Wrong. I knocked him out and doubled my stack.

Much later in the tournament, there was about 14 players left, and I was scuffling not to get knocked out. I looked down at KJ suited in hearts. The player to the right of me went all-in. It was the best starting hand I had seen in a while, so I did the same thing. The big stack at the table, a complete donkey who went all in with any two cards, also went all in. The guy to the right of me had K10, and the donkey had Q10. No queen or 10 showed up, so I won a huge pot and tripled up.

From there, I managed to hold on until the decent cards stopped coming and I began to get blinded out. My last stand was pathetic as I was forced to go all in with only a 45 suited. Not surprisingly, I lost (to only a 10-5) and I got knocked out in 6th place. It was 3:50 a.m. You know you've done well and earned respect when you make a final table, get knocked out, and the other players shake your hand as you get up to leave. I didn't feel bad whatsoever when I got knocked out. I would have loved to win the whole thing, but it was just not going to happen. I felt triumphant, satisfied, and very, very tired.

The irony of this whole thing is that right now, they are playing the World Series of Poker down the street at the Rio. My game has gotten so good and my confidence is so high right now that I wish I had the opportunity to play there this year, I really think I could have done well. I long to get back to the WSOP, and it has become my dream and my goal. Oh well, maybe next year.

For today, I find great comfort in the fact that, after many, many attempts, I have finally made a final table at the Sahara. Yeah, baby!!!

Nickel Bag Joe and Candy Andy

I live in Maricopa County, the third largest county by population in the nation. Basically, it encompasses the Phoenix metropolitan area. Phoenix is now the fifth largest city in the nation, with a metro area of probably close to five million people. It is by and large a conservative strongpoint, with a long history of Conservative leaders with names like Goldwater, Rhenquist and McCain.

It should be a place which celebrates diversity and cultural significance. Instead, it is more and more becoming a police state ruled by two despicable, petty tyrants. Nickel Bag Joe is the alternative media's nickname for County Sheriff Joe Arpaio. The self-proclaimed "toughest sheriff in the country", notorious for his Tent City jails, where convicted DUI offenders do their ten days in custody in large canvas tents, broiling in the 115 degree heat while they feast on green bologna sandwiches. They're criminals, right? We shouldn't care about them, right? That's what Nickel Bag Joe is always telling us.

Joe's latest crusade is a self-declared war on illegal immigrants. He has conducted sweeps of Hispanic neighborhoods, arresting illegals and citizens alike, while sorting out the mess later. His storm troopers recently raided the Mesa City Hall building on a fool's errand to arrest so-called illegal immigrants seeking refuge in the building. The reality was there were two illegal immigrants as part of the overnight work crew cleaning the building, but that didn't stop Joe from putting a force together of over 40 sheriff's deputies, who stormed the building during business hours, and detained both employees and citizens alike for no reason whatsoever.

Joe's buddy is Candy Andy, otherwise known as County Attorney Andrew Thomas. Thomas is an ultra-right wing Conservative, who has supported Arapaio to the point of attacking the judiciary. Thomas has declared war on the judges of Maricopa County Superior Court, and is notorious for refusing to show any discretion on cases whatsoever and prosecuting innocent people. Recently, a young black driver was hit by another car, driven by a 19 year-old rich white girl from Scottsdale, who had been drinking all day and was nearly three times over the legal limit. There was no question that she caused the accident, and one of her passengers was killed. The black driver fled the scene, admittedly a major mistake on his part, and he found himself charged with negligent homicide, although he was completely sober, had not caused the accident, and was the driver who had been hit by the other vehicle. The rich white girl? She was only charged with a DUI in municipal court. The media exploded over the case, but Nickel Bag Joe stuck by his deputies' "investigation", and Candy Andy prosecuted the case to the hilt. After two weeks in trial, the black driver was acquitted of all charges except for leaving the scene of an accident, a misdemeanor. He spent a year in jail waiting for his case to come to trial, feasting on Joe's green bologna.

Phoenix has a very brave alternative newspaper, the Phoenix New Times. They did a series of articles on Joe and Andy, very critical and very well-researched. They brought up questions about Joe's million-dollar home, supposedly purchased on his county salary. They questioned land deals, and speculative real estate transactions. What they got for their efforts was a subpoena from Andy and Joe, demanding financial records of the paper, of the paper's founder and chief editor, and get this, email addresses of every one who has ever logged onto the paper's website. That's right, any person who dared to read the New Times online would now be on a list shared by Joe and Andy. Are you kidding me? Is this still America?

The two head honchos at the New Times were outraged by the subpoena and published it online. The result of that was their arrests during the middle of the night, by about a dozen sheriff's deputies each. It must have been the first time in American history that two journalists were arrested in the dead of night by a raiding squad of a dozen deputies and taken to jail for a misdemeanor. It was all over the media the next day, even making the national media, and by the end of the day, Candy Andy called a press conference, blaming the "error" on one of his lackeys, and stated that the charges would be dismissed, and the journalists released.

The real horror of the Joe and Andy show lies in what happens inside Joe's jails. Scores of people have been seriously injured, and even killed, inside the jails. Security and protection are a joke, and the taxpayers have been forced to foot the bill for the numerous wrongful death and abuse lawsuits filed by enraged citizens. I understand that people who drive drunk are a menace and need to serve their time, but do they do deserve to be killed or seriously beaten? One horror story I have read told about a mentally handicapped young man, falsely accused of aggravated assault, who was beaten and eventually killed by other inmates, all under the watchful eyes of Joe's henchmen. After the horrifying murder, the County Attorney's Office admitted that the young man was innocent, the initial crime was committed by another person, and the young man should never have been arrested in the first place. I'll bet his parents felt real good hearing that.

The frightening thing is that Arpaio and Thomas are seemingly untouchable. They do what they want, when they want, and no one has the stones to stop them. We keep waiting for the federal government to step in and stop this horrifying abuse of power, but it never happens. And, of course, the conservative yahoo voters of this county recently re-elected these two monsters. It's simply unbelieveable.

Welcome to Phoenix.

For the second year in a row.....

I've gotten one of the best birthday presents I could wish for, a Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band concert. Last year, I had to go to Anaheim for it, and when I got back to the hotel, the clock struck midnight, and I was 50 years old. This year, Bruce actually came to Phoenix, or Glendale, to be precise, and my birthday won't be until Wednesday. No matter, an early birthday present like this is just fine.

If I am going to be 51, that means Bruce Springsteen is going to be 59 and frankly, I just don't see how he does it. He performed for two hours and forty-five minutes Friday night, without an intermission. He sang, he played guitar, he prowled the stage, he came out into the audience, he slid on the stage and in general, performed his ass off. The man is simply incredible, and so is his band.

The setlist was eclectic, with five songs from the new album, some old warhorses (Badlands, Promised Land, Born to Run, Out in the Street), three songs from The Rising, and a bunch of tunes I never thought I would hear again (Seeds, Johnny 99, Downbound Train). He took requests, and treated us to blistering versions of Because the Night and Rosalita. He once again transformed The Ghost of Tom Joad into a blistering, powerful piece of musical drama, with Nils Lofgren shining on a wonderful guitar solo. Outlaw Pete, from the new album, was turned into an audio/visual epic with projected video of Monument Valley scrawling across the screen behind the band. I didn't want it to end.

The band is as tight and powerful as ever. Lofgren and violinist Soozie Tyrell are featured predominantly in this setlist and they did not disappoint. The Mighty Max Weinberg on drums (taking a sabbatical from the Conan O'Brien show) and Gary Tallent on bass are still one of the best rhythm sections in all of rock. Professor Roy Bittan can still tinkle the ivories, and new keyboardist Charlie Giordano did a fine job filling in for the late Danny Federici. The Big Man may be older and frailer, but he can still crank out the sax solos, and is still beloved by the legions of Bruce fans. Bruce's foil on stage is once again Little Steven Van Zandt, and although I can never look at him any longer without thinking of The Sopranos, Steve was great throughout. All in all, the E Street Band remains one of the most talented rock bands still performing.

So once again, for the second year in a row, all I can say is thank you, Bruce, for a fantastic birthday present. And thanks for allowing me to merely drive across town, and allow my wife, brother, sister, and sister-in-law to join me, instead of forcing me to drive 400 miles to the Land of the Mouse to experience you and the band. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

The NCAA Tournament

There are several reasons why the NCAA Tournament is one of the biggest sporting events of the year. First, there is the fact that 65 teams make the field every year, including the conference champions of every Division I conference in the country. That's why a college such as Cleveland State, which would never seriously be in the discussion of the national championship, gets to enter and try to run the table. The result is a tremendous build-up of fan interest all over the country. Second, there are the bracket pools. Everyone and their brother fills out a bracket and enters an office pool, convinced that this year they will be the grand winner. And every year, the pool is won by some non-fan who picks the winners based on their nicknames, or mascots, or where he/she went to college/grew up/got married/honeymooned, etc. etc. The resulting interest in this tournament by the non-sports fan has resulted in a complete explosion of this sporting event's popularity.

Most colleges or universities are located in small towns or medium-sized cities, and not the major urban centers. Sure, there are plenty of major colleges and universities in the great cities of this country, but most are elsewhere. Which is why places like Tucson, Arizona, Durham, North Carolina, and Lawrence, Kansas live for this tournament. It has truly become one of the great American spectacles. And with that introduction, let me post a few words about this year's tournament.

I think this is the first time since the tournament expanded to 64/65 teams that every single number one, two, and three seed won their first two games and landed in the Sweet Sixteen. If nothing else, that's a testament to the fantastic job done by this year's Selection Committee. Every year, the Committee comes under fire for some of their selections. This year, the biggest criticism came for the inclusion of my beloved Arizona Wildcats, an appearance which kept alive the Cats' streak of consecutive tournament appearances at 25 years, the second-longest streak in NCAA history. Even yours truly initially questioned the decision, although once I examined the schedule and the impressive wins over some quality top-25 teams (Kansas, Gonzaga, Washington, UCLA), I agreed with their inclusion. And the Cats have made good on that decision, dominating a tough Utah team in the first round and beating a very game Cleveland State team (which in turn had ousted Wake Forrest in the first round). The Wildcats never trailed in either game and won both by double digits. Not bad for a 12th seed, the only one still standing. Not only that, the Pac-10 sent six teams to the Big Dance this year, and the only one left is the Arizona Wildcats. So there, Dick Vitale, put that in your pipe and smoke it, I guess you were wrong, although you'll never admit it.

Syracuse looks like a Final Four team. They disposed of a very tough Arizona State team pretty handily, and made James Harden, the Pac-10 player of the year, a complete non-factor. It wouldn't surprise me if at least two, and maybe three, Big East teams made the Final Four. Any of the group of Connecticut, Syracuse, Pittsburgh, or Villanova are good enough to get there.

It's no longer an upset or a Cinderella story to see Gonzaga once again in the Sweet Sixteen. Mark Few has built a dynasty at this little school in Washington state. They have a tough draw with North Carolina, but they just might pull off the upset. However, with Ty Law back in action, UNC has to be one of the favorites to make it to the Final Four. The Zags will have their hands full.

Connecticut seems to be the best all-around team. They are playing in the West Regional in Phoenix (or Glendale, to be exact), and the last two times they did that, they won the National Championship. On paper, they seem way too much for Purdue to handle, and should then beat the winner of the Missouri-Memphis game.

The East Regional could feature a regional final pitting Big East Conference foes Pittsburgh and Villanova, although you can never underestimate Coach K's (I refuse to try to spell his full name) Duke Blue Devils. Despite their pedigree, I think Villanova gets past them. Assuming Pitt beats Xavier, the resulting Pitt-Villanova game should be a dogfight. Flip a coin, I won't even try to predict who would win that game, although my bracket says Villanova.

Then there's the Midwest Regional. My heart says the Arizona Wildcats will upset Louisville, and then the winner of Michigan State-Kansas. There's even precedent for it, in 1997, the Wildcats were the fifth place team in the Pac-10 conference regular season, and then knocked off the number one team in that tournament (Kansas) in the Sweet Sixteen on their way to their only national championship. Of course, my brain says "what have you been smoking?" I actually think the Cinderella story of the Wildcats will end on Friday, while Michigan State will upset Kansas, only to lose to Louisville. My Final Four prediction is Louisville, Connecticut, Villanova and North Carolina, with Louisville beating North Carolina in the Championship game. Too bad I didn't submit that bracket in any office pool.

Happy Birthday

Today we are celebrating the bicentennial of the birth of one of the greatest Americans, one of my all-time heroes, and the man I believe was the greatest American president, Abraham Lincoln. Everyone knows Lincoln's story, and everyone knows about his presidency. We can only imagine what our country would be like today if not for Lincoln; two separate Americas, side by side, or would further strife have created more civil wars, and even more smaller nation-states? How much longer would it have taken to end slavery, and how much more bloodshed would that have cost?

One of the issues I hear about today is the deconstruction of the Lincoln myth, and I like that a great deal. Lincoln wasn't saintly or God-like, he was a man, nothing more. He didn't like black people and definitely thought they were inferior to whites, but he was adamantly opposed to any person being owned by any other person. He made mistakes, and his suspension of habeas corpus during the Civil War would probably have gotten him impeached today. He was far from perfect, but he was a man of ideals, and principles, and he wasn't afraid to stand up for what is right. He saved the Union, and for that he shall always be honored and revered.

One of my favorite places to visit in Washington is the Lincoln Memorial. Every time I've been there, I've been awestruck by the statue. A feeling comes over me that can't be described, and I'm not the only one, people speak in hushed tones while they are there, and I have often seen people cry as they look up at Lincoln's face. It is hallowed ground.

183 years after Lincoln was born, another significant birth took place on this day, not one that is known by many people and certainly not one that is celebrated by the nation, but one that is important to me.

Happy Birthday, Abe. Happy Birthday, Jennifer.

Michael Phelps

It was just a few short months ago that Michael Phelps was being hailed as a hero and role model. He was the All-American boy, the Olympic champion, the sort of young man that made Americans proud. Today, Monday morning, February 9, 2009, he is still all of those things.

Everyone knows that Michael Phelps was photographed smoking marijuana from a bong at a college party. For that, he has been suspended from competitive swimming and vilified across the nation. The local sheriff is looking at prosecuting him criminally. He has lost endorsements and has been knocked off the pantheon. All because he wanted to get high at a college party, like so many other young Americans.

I'm glad this has happened to Michael Phelps, not because I wish him any ill will, but because it is time to stop this ridiculous madness. Yes, I'm talking about the most stupid, costly, and morally reprehensible social policy since alcohol prohibition, the prohibition against marijuana. I'm not talking about hard drugs, or even other drugs, I'm talking strictly about marijuana.

How much money is spent by our government every year to fight the ridiculous and futile war against marijuana use and consumption? How many billions of dollars? Ever thought about what that money could be used for in this debilitating economy if our government would only get reasonable and legalize marijuana?

Think about it, not only would the government save billions of dollars wasted by fighting this stupid war, but if marijuana was legalized, and heavily taxed, it would bring another significant source of revenue to our failing economy. It would put many criminals out of business, it would free up jail and prison space currently being occupied by non-violent marijuana offenders. It makes so much sense that it sickens me that our government refuses to consider it.

Is this what the majority of Americans want? Well, how many states have voted in favor of medical marijuana use in the last few years? Ever thought about how many Americans would vote in favor of legalizing recreational use of marijuana? Ever wonder how many otherwise law-abiding citizens of this country break the law by smoking marijuana in the privacy of their own homes? Can someone give me a rational explanation of why there should be a law against a tax-paying, otherwise law-abiding citizen, coming home from work after a long hard day, and enjoying a blunt in the privacy of his own home? When did we authorize the government of our nation to decide what we can do in the privacy of our own homes? Where is that in the Constitution?

Sure, I've heard all the arguments against pot legalization: it's a gateway drug, it would lead to legalization of other drugs, people would toke up and drive, etc. Look, I'm not advocating getting high and driving, if you're driving under the influence from alcohol or drugs, you're a danger to anyone and everyone. You deserve to be arrested and suffer the consequences. No, I'm talking about people being allowed to get high in the comfort and safety of their own homes.

I don't believe marijuana is a gateway drug, any more than alcohol is a gateway drug. It's true that hard drug users often start off using pot and alcohol, but no one is advocating making alcohol illegal for that reason, so why should pot be different? Millions of people drink alcohol or smoke dope, and never try anything else. The gateway drug argument is a myth, nothing more.

As far as legalization of other drugs, that's a different issue for a different day. There are plenty of cogent reasons why drugs such as meth and crack are illegal. One only has to view the devestation caused by these drugs to understand the justification of their being illegal. There is none of that with marijuana. It's apples and oranges.

Finally, there is the seperate issue of medical marijuana. It's been proven medically that marijuana is the most effective drug in dealing with the effects of glaucoma, and has medicinal value in dealing with the side effects of cancer radiation therapy, not to mention muscle spasticity. The medical community supports legalization for medicinal purposes. The people of my state, Arizona, have voted several times in favor of medical legalization, yet our "wise" elected leaders have basically told us that they know better than we do, and will not implement it. Who the hell died and made them God? There is nothing more condescending than the government treating us like we don't have any idea of what is good or bad for us; treating us like stupid children, in other words. I always thought this nation was better than that.

I hope the major consequence of Michael Phelps' experience is that legalization once again becomes a nation-wide discussion and leads to government action. It is time, and it's what the American people want, maybe not every single American, but the vast majority. With the economy falling apart more and more every day, it only makes sense.

Academy Award snubs

The Academy Award nominations were announced a couple of weeks ago. It's not that I haven't noticed, I've just been so wrapped up in the Arizona Cardinals' run to the Super Bowl that I haven't had a chance to blog about it. Like most years when the nominations have been announced, I haven't yet seen most of the nominated films. And now, since I've started my nation-wide boycott of movie theaters, I won't be seeing most of the films until they come out on DVD, well after the Academy Awards are decided.

Therefore, today's post is not so much about Academy Award snubs from this year's list of nominations, but all-time snubs. Specifically, I'm talking about films and performances that were snubbed from receiving a nomination, not those that were nominated and failed to win. In my opinion, the nomination is good enough, and the lack of a nomination in the examples I will give below are pretty much incomprehensible. So, in no particular order, here are my all-time Academy Award nomination snubs:


1. Humphrey Bogart---"Treasure of the Sierra Madre", 1948

No one can deny what a great actor Bogart was, even now, 50 years after his death. His classic films are still classics, and can be found regularly on Turner Movie Classics, as they should be. So why in the world was he snubbed for his all-time greatest performance? Was it because it was so atypical for him and nothing like any other role he played? Bogie's performance as Fred C. Dobbs, the down-and-out drifter in Mexico who finds gold with his two partners, and loses his mind, and later his life, in the process, is simply stupendous. In the beginning of the film, he is a likeable loser, someone down on his luck, but not a bad person at all. Finding and mining the gold transforms him into a paranoid, greedy, dangerous psychopath, a process that happens gradually. Bogie is superb in making that transition appear natural and believeable. His monologues about conscience after he shoots his buddy, Curtin, are mesemerizing. It's one of the few times that you can watch a Bogart film, and believe it's not Bogie up there on the screen, it's actually Fred C. Dobbs. He deserved an Academy Award for his performance (he had only been nominated one time, for "Casablanca", at that point in his career), and the fact that he didn't even get nominated was criminal.

2. James Cagney---"White Heat", 1949

Cagney's performances came basically in two categories; the snarling gangster with the moves of a ballet dancer ("Angels with Dirty Faces", "The Roaring Twenties", "The Public Enemy", to name just a few) or the Irish actor/song and dance man ("Yankee Doodle Dandy", being the best example). "White Heat" was a variation of the snarling gangster genre. Cagney played Cody Jarrett, a snarling gangster with deep psychological problems, an Oedipus complex of monumental proportions, suffering from debilitating migraine headaches and a cheating, untrustworthy wife. Through it all, Cagney is simply tremendous. Two scenes stand out above the rest. The first shows Cagney in prison, learning that his mother has been murdered, and slowly boiling over, eventually going beserk in reaction, punching out fellow inmates and prison guards alike as he is finally subdued and carried off to the prison hospital. The second standout scene is the towering finale, as Cagney is on top of a gigantic oil tank, surrounded by dozens of other oil tanks, as the law is closing in on him. Watch Cagney deliver his final line, "Made it, Ma, top of the world!!", as only he could, and you will understand perfection in film acting. Inexplicably, Cagney was not nominated for this magnificent performance.

3. Paul Giamatti---"Sideways", 2004

Probably no contemporary actor in Hollywood today is as underrated and consistently snubbed as Paul Giamatti. Is it because he's not a hunky, traditionally-handsome leading man? It's baffling. Giamatti's performance as Miles, the English teacher/would-be author and wine conoisseur is entrancing. Giamatti is both likeable and detestable as he plays a flawed, but basically good, man trying to make something of himself. His relationships with both his buddy, Jack, and the waitress he is attracted to, Maya, are complex and anything but smooth and Giamatti is superb in his scenes with them. Giamatti also nails the scenes where is supposed to be drunk, not as simple a feat as it may seem. He inhabits the role of Miles, and he is eminently watchable. I think it's one of the best performances of the last decade, and yet, no nomination.

4. Samuel L. Jackson---"Jungle Fever", 1991

One of these days, Samuel L. Jackson will win an Academy Award. How can he not? The guy is simply a tremendous, towering, powerful actor. In a film full of magnificent performances, his was the standout in "Pulp Fiction". He received a nomination for that film, but for some reason he was overlooked for "Jungle Fever", the performance that put him on the map. Jackson plays Gator, the crack addict brother of Wesley Snipes in Spike Lee's powerful drama. His performance is unbelieveable and heartbreaking. He should have been nominated for a supporting Oscar (as should Halle Berry, unrecognizable as his equally crack-addicted girlfriend).

5. "Do the Right Thing", 1989

How in the world did this movie not get nominated for Best Picture? Spike Lee's powerful depiction of a blistering hot summer day in a racially charged Brooklyn neighborhood is one of the most intelligent, searing indictments of race relations ever put on film. The performances are superb, the screenplay is poignant, and the final film is mesmerizing. Lee was robbed.

6. "Some Like it Hot", 1959

Today, Billy Wilder's comic masterpiece is universally regarded as one of the great comedies of all time. It is timeless, as funny now as it was fifty years ago (Good Lord, is this movie really 50 years old??!!). Fabulous performances by Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis in drag, George Raft and Pat O'Brien as the scary old gangster and the old cop chasing him, and a simply luminous, legendary performance by Marilyn Monroe make this a timely classic. It should have been nominated for Best Picture.

7. "Singin' in the Rain", 1952

Most people regard "Singin' in the Rain" as the best movie musical of all time. The singing and dancing is great (Donald O'Connor's "Make em Laugh" number is simply amazing), the screenplay is witty and funny, and the film entertainingly tells the story of the time when Hollywood transitioned from silent films to talkies. Gene Kelly is a wonder to behold in this movie, and his "Singin' in the Rain" number is one of the greatest scenes in all of Hollywood history. No nomination for Best Picture, are you kidding me?

8. Orson Welles---"Touch of Evil", 1959

I've written about this film before on this blog (See Charlton Heston, RIP), and there's no need to go into all of it again. Simply put, Welles' performance as crooked cop Hank Quinlan is one of the all-time great performances in one of the all-time great films of cinema. Of course, by the time this film was made, Welles was a pariah and outcast of Hollywood, so it's not surprising that he wasn't nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar. It's still highway robbery.

9. "The Dark Knight", 2009

How in the name of sport do you explain this one, oh great Academy of Arts and Sciences? Is it because the film is a comic book movie, or a summer blockbuster, or the second-highest grossing film in history? None of that should matter. "The Dark Knight" is a brilliant movie, with one of the greatest performances of all time (Heath Ledger is a lock to win the Oscar as the Joker), an intelligent story, and a tremendous production. Its exclusion from the list of Best Picture nominees is inexplicable.

10. Bruce Springsteen, "The Wrestler", Best Song, 2009

Let's see, Bruce wins the Golden Globe for this great song, it is the final coda of his wonderful new CD, "Working on a Dream", he is fresh off a terrific performance at the Super Bowl halftime show, and he is about to embark on a world-wide tour. Sure, I know, let's snub him for an Academy Award nomination. Ridiculous.


Well, there you have it, my top ten list, if you will. I'm sure I've left some horrific snubs out, so hopefully this post will generate some comments and spark my memory of Academy Award terrible mistakes and omissions. Isn't this more fun than watching the Pittsburgh Steelers win another Super Bowl?

Bummer

Many people are calling it the best Super Bowl ever. Most are calling it the best fourth quarter of any Super Bowl, and one of the best comebacks of all time. In time, I'm sure I will be proud of the fact that the Cardinals reached down deep, looked the big bad Steelers in the eye, came up with an epic comeback in the fourth quarter, taking the lead with two and a half minutes left, and came oh so close to pulling off one of the greatest upsets in Super Bowl history. Today, however, I am only bummed.

It would have been so much easier if the Cardinals had merely folded the tent and tucked their tails between their legs after that devestating interception return at the end of the first half. It was a potential fourteen point swing, and many teams would have been finished after a turn of events like that.

But it didn't quite happen that way. The Steelers were on their way to what would have been a game-clinching touchdown late in the third quarter. It would have been all over, and I would have comforted myself with the satisfaction of an amazing playoff run and a Super Bowl appearance for the Cardinals. It would have been more than enough, and I would have been OK today.

But no, the Cardinals had to come up with one of the all-time great goal line stands, having to stop the Steelers twice because of a penalty, six plays that went nowhere, forcing Pittsburgh to kick a field goal and keep the Cards within two touchdowns. As if it was a jump start to the offense, suddenly Kurt Warner began to find Larry Fitzgerald, who had been pretty much invisible for the first three quarters. The Cardinals drove down the field, culminating with Warner's toss in the end zone, which Fitzgerald amazingly caught, to make the score 20-14.

The Steelers got the ball back, and not only did the Cardinals stop them, but came up with a safety as well, to make the score 20-16. And then came the play that should have been destined to be the legendary game-and-championship-winning play, a Warner pass to Fitzgerald, where Fitz outran the Steelers defense for a 60-yard touchdown play, and the Cardinals' first lead of the game with two and a half minutes left. In my house, we were screaming and crying. My throat is still sore.

And then, as if to prove that it is never easy for my teams, the Cardinals defense could not pressure Ben Roethlisberger on the next drive and the Steelers drove down the field and scored an amazing touchdown. In time, I believe Santonio Holmes' touchdown catch, over three Cardinal defenders, placed by Roethlisberger in a spot that only Holmes could catch, with Holmes playing a perfect tip-toe balancing act at the edge of the sideline to stay in bounds, will be regarded as one of the best plays in any Super Bowl, always assuming that it hasn't already reached that lofty status. As a football fan, it was thrilling to watch. As a Cardinal fan, it was devestating.

There will come a time when I will only think about the wonderful things achieved by the Cardinals this year. They are one of my favorite teams of all time and I will always cherish their accomplishments. But today, all I can feel is hurt and pain. The Cardinals can hold their heads high, they came oh so close. But the bottom line is they lost the game. It turns out that potential fourteen point swing with the interception at the end of the first half was too much to overcome after all. Bummer.

Oh well, at least it was the best halftime show of any Super Bowl.

The Boss is all over the place.....and other random thoughts

All of a sudden, as if this were October , 1975, all over again, Bruce Springsteen is everywhere and anywhere. For those of you who don't understand the significance of the October '75 reference, that was when a young Springsteen found himself on the covers of Newsweek and Time magazines. For someone who was not a political leader or had won a Nobel prize, it was quite a feat.

Now, I turn on the TV and Bruce and the band are giving a pre-Super Bowl press conference. The local classic rock radio station is blasting non-stop commercials for tickets to the upcoming Springsteen concert in Glendale, which go on sale Monday morning. There seems to be as much hype for Bruce's halftime performance in tomorrow's big game, as there is for the game itself. And, oh yes, there just happens to be a new CD out by Bruce and the band, titled "Working on a Dream," which, while maybe not quite as good as "Magic" and "The Rising", is still quite a good album. The renaissance of The Boss, starting with "The Rising" and the subsequent tour in 2002, continues, and is still in full force.

Your humble narrator, of course, is totally geeked by all this. I picked up the new album on Wednesday and have listened to it about a dozen times. I highly recommend it. Not only that, I've pulled "Magic" out and listened to that as well, marvelling all over again at its sustained excellence. Mrs. Brucefan and I will be going to the Glendale show in April, and of course, I'm looking forward to the halftime show tomorrow. How many rockers from the 70's are still putting out exciting and relevant new material, and touring all over the world, as well? Go ahead, let's hear some names. The Boss continues to blow me away, even after 34 years of loyal fandom. The man is amazing.

Speaking of tomorrow's game, once again the Cardinals are the underdog, not getting much love or respect from the national pundits. Good, that seems to be the way the Cards like it. Keep that chip squarely on your shoulder, Warner and company, and play like you're pissed off and out to prove something. It's certainly worked so far. Here's hoping the Cinderella story reaches a joyous conclusion. Go Cardinals, shock the world one more time!

And, finally, after several months of being in a sustained poker slump, I played in a no-limit Texas Hold'em tournament last night with 90 or so participants. I made the final table and finished ninth. Overall, I was pleased with my performance, although perhaps a little more aggression on my part may have resulted in a higher finish. I think that's a good sign of my progress as a poker player. While I can appreciate a ninth place final table performance, I'm not quite satisfied and think I could have done better. But it'll do for now.

Boycott Movie Theaters

I am starting a nation-wide boycott of movie theaters. Last weekend, I took my wife and three teenage children to see "Revolutionary Road" at a local theater. The tickets were $9.50 each, we also got two small sodas, a medium popcorn, a package of M&M's, and a package of sour patch kids candy. The total came to $70.00. That is beyond ridiculous.

When did movies become so expensive? And when did we allow ourselves to be so ripped off by the ridiculous prices for drinks/slash food? For the same price I paid for a small soda, I can walk into a Fry's grocery store and buy a twelve-pack. The seats were uncomfortable, the print of the film was far from perfect, and the floor was sticky. This is absurd. We have become a nation of stupid consumers, willingly paying ridiculous prices for two hours of mediocre entertainment. To quote a great movie from the late 70's, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore!"

I say it's time to act. Despite my life-long love of movies, I will personally not see another movie in a theater until the prices come down. The only way we can expect change is if every single person agrees, and joins my boycott of movie theaters. Believe me, if people stop going to the movies, things will change. If not, a trip to the local movie theater will continue to be a major rip-off.

Join my boycott. Don't go to the movies until things change. Movie-lovers of the world, unite!!

A January to remember

The nation will always remember January, 2009 as the month of Barack Obama's inauguration. 233 years after the nation was created and 146 years after the Emancipation Proclamation, a black man has been sworn in to "preserve, protect and defend" the Constitution of the United States as our 44th President. It was a momentous occasion, highlighted by an excellent speech from our new President, and the sight of two million Americans, braving the freezing temperatures to be part of the moment. The images of the throngs of people, lined all the way up to the Washington Monument and beyond, was stirring. If you've ever walked the Mall, you know that's quite a distance, and it appeared as nothing less than a sea of people.

There's a stirring in this nation today, a feeling that we are embarking on a new course, with a dynamic new leader at the helm. Despite the recession in which we are mired, there is a sense of hope. People feel positive and good today, and speak of a promising future. Optimism prevails, negativity is on hold, and it's an exciting time to be an American.

So, I almost feel shallow and pathetic when I also state that it is an exciting time to be an Arizonan, not just because of Obama and the promise he projects, but because of our professional football team. Yes, something as silly and irreverent as our NFL team, the Cardinals, has all of a sudden given the people of our state pride and joy.

I suppose you really have to live here to understand it. We are the 48th state to have entered the Union, the very last state in the continental U.S., and in many ways we feel like the ugly stepchild. We have no ports, no waterfronts, no beaches, no major rivers other than the Colorado, which is pretty much un-navigable. We deal with ridiculous heat in the summer, and much of our state is made up of barren, open land. We have two major cities, including the fifth largest city in the nation, but when Americans think of great American cities, they name New York, and Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco, New Orleans, Las Vegas, Boston, Denver, Dallas, Houston, Philadelphia. No one really thinks of Phoenix or Tucson, unless they have to be there for some reason or other.

Our football team has been a joke ever since they moved here from St. Louis 21 years ago. In that time, they have made the playoffs once, winning one game in Dallas, and then losing. That was ten years ago. Most seasons, they are 2-6 (or worse) by the midway point. It doesn't matter who the players are, or who the coach is, or what sort of success they've had elsewhere, they have come to Phoenix and they have sucked. Very few Arizonans have ever talked about the Cardinals with anything resembling pride.

Suddenly, all that has changed. I've written previously about this season, how the Cardinals won their division over three other teams with losing records, how they were trounced and blown out by Philadelphia, Minnesota, and New England after they had already clinched their playoff spot, and how the national media called them one of the worst playoff teams ever, with virtually no chance of winning a game in the postseason.

It's become obvious now that the team rallied around all that negativity, took it to heart, looked deep within themselves, and played outstanding football. They upset Atlanta in the first round, then played on the road at Carolina and beat the Panthers, dominating them in an absolutely stunning display. They suddenly found themselves hosting the Philadelphia Eagles in the NFC Championship game this past Sunday. Once again, nobody (except Terry Bradshaw, of all people) gave them a chance.

The Cardinals were tremendous in the first half. They dominated Philadelphia on both sides of the ball, and played mistake-free football. Larry Fitzgerald, the one player the Eagles knew they had to stop, scored three (yes, three) touchdowns. Quarterback Kurt Warner was almost perfect, and Edgerrin James broke off ten yard runs like he did six years ago. The score at halftime was 24-6 Cardinals, and the sports world had to be in shock.

The Eagles, however, were far too good to just lay down and quit. They adjusted at halftime, stopped Warner and Fitzgerald, and began to click on offense. Quarterback Donovan McNabb led them on three touchdown drives, and as the game went into the fourth quarter, the Eagles led 25-24. The Phoenix crowd, which had been delirious for most of the game, was stunned. Uh-oh, here it comes, the same old Cardinal choke. Hey, I thought it, we all thought it, we've had 21 years of it.

But that's not what happened. The Cardinals got the ball with ten minutes left, and Warner led them on a methodical drive down the field. Fitzgerald picked up a key first down, and made another sensational catch to give the Cards a third and one. But the key moments of this drive belonged to Tim Hightower, the young back tabbed to take over for Edgerrin James. It was fourth and one, just over the 50 yard line, when coach Ken Whisenhunt elected to go for it. Warner handed off to Hightower, who ran toward the right sideline, got around an Eagles defender who was blocked perfectly by the tight end and made the first down. After Fitzgerald's second catch of the drive gave the Cards a third and one at the twelve yard line, Hightower was given the ball again, and gained four yards to set up a first and goal. And then three plays later, on third and goal, Warner tossed a screen pass to Hightower, who hesitated, allowing his blockers to do their job, and then banged his way into the end zone with just under three minutes left. Warner was perfect on the two point conversion, and it was delirium in Univeristy of Phoenix Stadium.

The Eagles got the ball back and after making two first downs, McNabb missed his next four passes, and it was all over. The Cardinals had to punt with 15 seconds left, but the Eagles never got past the 20 yard line, and the game was over. The Cardinals had shocked the world, they had won the NFC Championship, and were going to the Super Bowl for the first time ever. It was a surreal moment, and I had tears in my eyes. I'm sure I wasn't the only one in Arizona.

It took two days to get over the shock and allow the reality to sink in. It's all anyone is talking about. Six million Arizonans, most of whom couldn't have given a rat's you-know-what about the Cardinals a month ago, are walking around now with goofy smiles on their faces. We are proud of our team, and we are proud of our state, not to mention proud of ourselves. It defines what sports is about: a colossal underdog bucking the odds, believed in only by themselves and a few loyal fans, shocking the world and playing like champions. Some people are saying they have to win the Super Bowl to put the dot on the exclamation point. Maybe, maybe not. Right now, it feels like they are champions already. It's historic and exciting. It's why I love sports so much, along with so many other millions of fans.

Go Cardinals.

Pinch me, I must be dreaming

The last time I wrote about football, the Jets had choked away their chance to get into the playoffs, and the Cardinals were in free fall. It seemed that as soon as the Cardinals clinched their division, they lost all focus and desire. They were manhandled by Philadelphia on Thanksgiving night, obliterated by the Vikings at home, and embarassed at New England in a snowstorm, 47-7. Despite winning their last regular season game over Seattle to finish 6-0 against their division foes, the Cardinals were generally regarded as the worst of all the playoff teams, and perhaps one of the worst ever. Every so-called expert predicted they would be one and done.

The first round game was at home a week ago today in University of Phoenix Stadium against Atlanta. The Falcons had a fierce running game, led by Michael Turner, the league leader in rushing, and a hot rookie at quarterback, Matt Ryan. And then a funny thing happened. The home crowd was raucous, the Cards found a running game behind Edgerrin James, the defense stifled the Atlanta ground attack and harassed Ryan all day, Kurt Warner played mistake-free football, and both "all-world" wide receivers, Larry Fitzgerald and Anquan Boldin, scored touchdowns. The Cardinals pulled off the upset and sent Atlanta packing. The Valley, as we call ourselves here in the metro Phoenix area, went nuts.

The euphoria was to be short-lived, however, as next up was the Carolina Panthers. Again, the national experts, like Colin Cowherd, extolled the virtues of the Panthers, and gave the Cards no chance. The Cardinals, after all, had been 0-5 on the East Coast, and had been blown out in every game except one, which incidentally was against Carolina. The experts predicted a blowout. Well, they were right about that part.

Carolina got off to a strong start last night, going down the field on their first possession and scoring with ease. It looked like it was going to be a long night. But, on the next possession, the Cardinals forced a fumble when the ball was stripped out of Carolina quarterback Jake Delhomme's hands. Two plays later, Edgerrin James scored, and the game was tied.

Now, if you were told that after that play, one of the teams would intercept the other five times, and race out to a 27-7 halftime lead, you would bet that team was the Panthers, wouldn't you? And you would be wrong. Playing what was probably their best half of football in their entire history, the Cardinals destroyed the Panthers on defense, and dominated them on offense. By the time halftime came, the local fans were booing and the game was pretty much over. The defense held tight in the second half, and other than a meaningless touchdown in the final minute, Carolina was totally blanked. It will probably go down as one of the five or so biggest upsets in NFL playoff history. Final score: 33-13, Arizona.

And that brings us to today. The Philadelphia Eagles beat the big bad New York Giants in Giants Stadium, and so next Sunday, the NFC Conference game will be played in Glendale, AZ, where the home-team Cardinals will host the visiting Eagles in what, I suppose, will be dubbed the Battle of the Birds. Are you kidding me, or what? Two weeks ago, the national media had buried the Cardinals, and now they're hosting the NFC Championship? What in the world?

If you watch the Cardinals on a regular basis, like I have this season, you realize that the inexplicable part is how they managed to get so manhandled in so many games. As they have proven the last two weeks, they are a good team. When Kurt Warner is on, he is a future Hall of Famer, and if he can lead the Cards to a championship this year, he should be a lock for the Hall. Larry Fitzgerald is the best wide receiver in football, and Anquan Boldin (who didn't even play last night) just might be the second best. Edgerrin James is a proven future Hall of Fame running back, who has managed to play his way back into the game plan and be a factor in the two playoff wins so far. But it's the defense which has led the way. Ridiculed and overlooked at the start of the playoffs, they have dominated Atlanta and Carolina, the two best teams from the league's best division, the AFC South. Veterans like Darnel Docket, Antrelle Rolle, and Adrian Wilson have been outstanding. Rookie Dominique Rodgers-Cromartie has gotten better by the game, and he has had two momentum-changing interceptions in the two playoff wins. This is is a team with a chip on their shoulder, angry about the national lack of respect, and playing like they have something to prove. Clearly, they have proven it.

Next week's game is for the Super Bowl. The Cardinals, of course, have never been there. Actually, for that matter, they've never played in a conference championship game. The only championship they have ever won was long before the merger, back in 1947, two cities ago, when they played in Chicago. Ancient history.

The city of Phoenix is going to be jacked up all week. There will be an air of excitement like this town has never experienced, not even when the Diamondbacks won the World Series. This is all new for us, and we are loving every minute of it. I can't wait til next Sunday. Go Cardinals.