You Make Me Reilly Tired

I used to love Rick Reilly.

Probably it was a bit unhealthy.  I waited so eagerly for his articles on ESPN.com that I refused to look for any kind of pattern in how often his columns posted.  If I knew when he was most likely to post, it wouldn't be worth checking several times a day.  Occasionally, he’d ruffle my feathers a bit (for example, when he needlessly eviscerated my boy Jimmer Fredette) and I’d wonder why exactly he was such a jerk.  But before long, he’d write something else and I was reeled in again.  I love sports and I love the way he humanizes things.   I loved the people he wrote about.  I loved his writing style.

Now, I cannot muster the energy to read his pieces.   It makes me tired to consider reading about Stephen Curry and his mosquito nets.  I’d really like to care about why he thinks it’s wrong that college athletes can’t sell their autograph (coincidentally, I agree), but I don’t.  I liked reading about Phil Mickelson’s huge win in the British Open, but when I closed my browser, I was relieved and re-energized.  I only realized how exhausting I find the guy about an hour ago, as I was looking for something to read, notice he had a new column up, and passed it over, as usual.

What the?  This is almost as confusing as Carl Lewis getting a second chance to “throw” a first pitch.  (Here’s the first time.  Yikes.)

But there’s a reason.  It’s actually a very logical reason, if strange.  And it is:

Don't try to tell you me you don't want to scrub this thing.

I don’t have unlimited emotional capital.  And I can’t put all my love, hate, joy, and sorrow into sports.  Just being a Nationals fan is enough of an emotional roller coaster, and that doesn’t take into account being a Wizards fan.  Or being a BYU football fan.  Those activities are annually huge downers.  Plus, I have a real life, too.  I’m trying to decide what I want to do with my future (current aspiration: fix cars), who I want to spend it with, and how on earth I’m going to get there.  I’m frantically picking up odd jobs, like scrubbing those white event canopies
and fixing split rail fences.  I’m trying not to waste a summer at home with my family, which is why I do most of my writing at 1 in the morning.  There are too many things I need to be invested in, and too many that I want to do.  Rick Reilly wears me out.

It’s not that he’s a poor writer.  In fact, he’s won sportswriter of the year more times than I can count on my fingers (which is the only way I can count, usually).  It’s also not that I’ve bought into the anti-Reilly movement that seems to gain strength every year.  It’s just that sports aren’t that important.  I don’t need someone else to make me care any more about sports than I already do.  I need balance more than I need you, Rick.  Sorry it’s got to be this way.

And guess what?  I’m writing just like Rick Reilly.

Seriously.  The zippy one line concluding paragraph is traight out of the Reilly arsenal.  Good thing I decided not to close with it, although I was tempted: it had such a nice ring to it.

The long strings of similar sentences or clauses?  Hm.  Rick Reilly does that all the time.

Deemphasizing the value of sports, something I’ve done a lot of recently, is also one of his go-to moves, even while he immerses you in an athlete’s world, totally overwhelming whatever real-life matter you were considering before.  And while I’m on the subject, he’s regularly getting into the social implications of sports news or culture.  Sounds like my posts here on Balls and Beards.

Even as I try to distance myself from the guy, he’s one of the big influences on the way I write.  The way I think.  Who I am as a sportswriter.  I read Michael Lewis’s Moneyball recently, and I decided:  no more emotional analysis!  Numbers.  Facts.  Objectivity.  Those things are superior to feelings and thoughts and personality, right?  Right.  But knowing it doesn’t make me able to do it for me any more than for Billy Beane himself, the father of the moneyball movement.  He works out and studies history during his team’s games, because he loves the game too much and gets too frustrated when it’s not perfect.  I sit down to write an analytical, impartial essay and I just can’t keep the necessary emotional distance.  I also can’t give up writing.

Jim Tressel informs me I'm not
the only one who can't handle
Rick Reilly in a constructive manner.

Basically, I can’t handle two drama queen, emotional basketcase, illogical sportswriters at once.

My brain ain’t big enough for the two of us, Rick.  And I ain’t leaving.

So you think you can coach?

There are a lot of things in sports that make not only me mad but also many others. Dan Snyder thinking he’s better at buying a team than George Steinbrenner.  Flopping. Cheating in sports, lying that you cheated and than admitting you actually did cheat. But one of the biggest things that bug me is high school basketball. Not all but most high school basketball. Don’t get me wrong; there are a lot of great high school basketball teams in the country. Examples: Oak Hill Academy (VA), Montrose Christian (MD) or Findlay Prep (NV). Each of these schools have produced great college and NBA players. That’s a great accomplishment in the sports world but most schools are like the crappy ones. We have schools like Salmon High School (ID) or James Madison High School (VA.) which just don’t play good fundamental basketball. More than likely teams like these don’t have bad players, they just have bad systems or coaches. I can’t say that I would be any better at coaching basketball at the high school level. I can say that holding the basketball for 5 minutes while you have one of the most ridiculous athletes I know on the court would not be in my playbook. A play I would have would be the Kobe. You get your best player the ball and everyone gets out of the way.

Now, I’m not trying to blame just coaches because it’s not always their fault their teams do bad. There are some teams that are always at a disadvantage. Lets take the Leadore Mustangs for example who only have a handful of players to choose from. In this situation I am glad that a town of 105 has a desire to have a basketball team and it’s OK that they make the Jimmy Chitwood-less Hickory Huskers look like champions. Sometimes, though you have situations where you have great players in bad systems. Example: Salmon High School Savages.  When you have several solid players who run the break like no man’s business, you design a system to fit them.  We could even use a professional example like the Lakers. When you have Dwight Howard, Kobe Bryant and Steve Nash, who are poorly suited to running for 48 minutes, you do not hire Mike D’Antoni. I don’t understand why a front office would hire someone who wouldn’t help their players play to the fullest.  Man like, Greg Popovich, Bill Belichick and Herb Brooks. Each of these men have specific players they want and look for. Players contribute to the team in their own special way. That’s why drafting players like Kawhi Leonard or Tom Brady aren’t a waste of a pick. Every move is to help the team become the best. I wouldn’t say though that I would invite all coaches to use this style. To each, his own. John Calipari has done great with recruiting the best players and making “dream” teams. That works for the teams that have the ability to do that. You could even be like Mike Shanahan who had a successful system but changed it because of one draft pick. Look now; he’s done very well this past season with his new system and his draft pick leading the way.  There are many ways of having a successful program but you need to be aware of whom you have, your goals for the program and being realistic. As the saying goes if you build it, they will come. Strive to build a realistic system for your team and success is likely.

LeBron's Other Decision

The following is the interview that probably would have bumped ESPN's regularly scheduled programming had LeBron James actually been assigned to a jury on Thursday.

What's new? What's been going on with you this summer?

Man, this whole jury duty experience, looking forward to it.

What have you thought about this process? 

This process has been everything I've thought and more. Man, hearing the evidence and testimonies, it’s been great. I love seeing the American justice system in action.

What did you expect? Because we've seen 30 foot billboards. We've seen jurors grabbing very large chairs for you to sit in. President Obama, for crying out loud, seven times has commented that he'd like to see you announce the jury’s verdict. What did you expect from this process?

Well, certain things like that is one thing you can't control. But I expected to be able to go through this process and be able to sit down with the rest of the jury and hear how they feel about what we heard in court today.

How many people know your decision right now? 

Not many. It's a very, very small number. And I probably could count them on my fingers.

One hand or two hands? 

Let's say one. A person might think that’s a problem, since there are 12 people sitting on this jury, but we agreed that it’s fine for there to be only a handful who know my decision.

When did you decide? 

I think I decided this morning. I mean, the trial started this morning, and we heard all the evidence pretty quickly. But this morning I woke up, had a great conversation with my mom. 

So your mother made the decision for you?

This is the face that says,
"Of course I asked my mother to help me decide."

Once I had that conversation with her, I think I was set.

So does the man on trial, that you'll announce in a few minutes, does he know your decision? 

He just found out.

Are you still a nail biter? 

I have a little bit. Not of late.

You've had everybody else biting their nails. So I guess it's time for them to stop chewing. The answer to the question everybody wants to know: LeBron, what's your decision? 

This fall, this fall that felon is going to take his talents to the Ohio State Penitentiary.

How many years do you estimate the judge will sentence him for?

Not one… not two… not three… not four, not five, not six. Not seven!

Thanks to Henry Abbott of ESPN.com for the transcript of LeBron's televised special, which which was a fine model.

No Offense, Dwight, but this One's for You

“Drop-out Eddie McCoy leaves Burger King for Wendy’s.  #whopperfail,” Shepard Smith reported (via  twitter).  On Good Morning America, George Stephanopolous revealed that Wendy’s has been hoping for years that Eddie would choose to seek employment with the fast-food chain, and that the team at the New York Ave location in Washington DC offered to give Eddie a tour of the restaurant and 20% off of his next meal there, clinching the deal.  Eddie was on the payroll two days later.  

Frank E. Thorne, day manager at Burger King, posted a bitter open letter by the entrance of the G St location, eviscerating Eddie for leaving BK for a $.10 per hour raise and supposed “improved workplace,” indicating, “Eddie could have asked for a raise!  I’m not unreasonable.  I just don’t feel like that ungrateful dog gave us a fair chance to keep him here at the Home of the Whopper,” and “We haven’t failed an inspection in months!”

"Eddie, do I look happy with you and your decision?"

In retaliation, McCoy posted a photo of himself grinning while emptying a trash can at Wendy’s to Instagram, and added a provocative tweet, referencing a popular sports bar and grill, “Best job ive ever had! Love the team here at @Wendys! Plus im closer to @NelliesDC now, gonna catch the big games after work! #ilovemyjob”

Eddie’s fans expressed mixed feelings about the move, such as “I loved watching Eddie mop the floors while I ate at the BK.  I’m not sure I’ll go there anymore,” “Wait, who’s Eddie?” and “Who needs that loser?  I never liked him anyway!  I knew he was a moneygrubber, the way he’d pick up loose change on the floor.”

Of course, no one would ever pay that much attention to which fast food joint a high school dropout chose to work at, but every summer we’re subjected to a similar media travesty as big name NBA players and their backups decide whether to re-sign with their current teams or to pursue other employment options.  And I don’t have a problem with NBA (or any other league’s) free agency.  In fact, I love that every few years the players get to make their own decisions without owners and GMs trading and waiving them as if they were just contracts with large numbers written next to dollar signs.  But I really don’t need to hear about it for weeks and weeks as the season progressively ends.

"Yeah, I am pretty awesome.
Thanks for noticing!  Have you heard I'm
thinking about playing for the Rockets?"
[Note: This photo should never have
been taken, even though he is awesome.]

 I don’t care that Dwight Howard picked up the tab for everyone at the Breakfast Klub in Houston (although that was a very nice thing to do).  I don’t care that LeBron, D-Wade, and Chris Bosh are besties and wanted to play together for years before it happened.  On the other hand, I am fairly interested to know which team makes the huge mistake of giving Kwame Brown a job, because there’s no pageantry there.  I’m always glad to hear that, in a turn of events surprising no one, the Spurs signed Tim Duncan again, or that he was willing to cut his salary in half to give the team more cap room.  In fact, it was good to know that LeBron was going to Miami, but I didn’t need an hour-long special or to hear him say “I’m going to take my talents to South Beach.”

I don’t have beef with NBA free agency.  Or that the sports news media follows it carefully and keeps us posted on the goings on.  After all, they don’t give us information that we don’t ask for, as a society of sports fans.  I have major beef, though, with the sports fans who for some reason want to be drowned in meaningless information.

I’ll try to refrain from redundancy, if only because the redundancy of a 24-hour news cycle is part of the problem I’m addressing here.  My impulse is to dissolve into a stream-of consciousness rant about the information fetish that plagues our society.  I’ll do what I can to avoid that, but I can’t avoid addressing the issue, because the lion’s share of the free agency problem lies there.

You know how the older generations are often concerned by how much time we spend on social media, and how the (very reasonable) cynics among us wonder why anyone would post a photo of their lunch to Instagram?  Conversely, you know how much time our parents and grandparents spend watching the news and reading the newspaper?  Yeah, me too.  We have the same problem manifest two different ways.  TS Eliot summed it up well when he asked (79 years ago, mind you), “Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?  Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?”   We are addicted to information that is at best tangential to real life. 

The CNN (or Fox News) addict, feet up thanks to the fine recliner that he bought last month, would tell me that I don’t have any understanding of how the world works and that I should stay posted on current events.  The Twitter addict, taking a break to stretch his neck and noticing that I’ve been trying to talk to him for 3 minutes, would tell me that it’s important to him to know what his friends are doing and what funny things his favorite celebrities told TMZ.  And do I realize that his 213 followers will wonder what’s up if he stops posting regularly?

You win.  You’re right.  I don’t know the news or pop culture as well as you do, and I’d actually like to know more of both of those things.  I love being informed.  Knowledge is important to me.  But not so important that I’ll risk losing my job as a summer camp counselor because I’m on facebook at work or that I’ll pass on playing a game with my little sister so I can watch a few more videos or look at a few more of my friend’s pictures.

Yep.  Glad we don't live like this anymore.

It used to be that humans got up early, worked hard all day, and went to bed early.  No time to go visiting friends more than occasionally.  No time to learn any more about the news than town gossip.  In short, there wasn't time for much but staying alive.  I’m glad we live in a modern world with plenty of discretionary time.  And I’m certainly not the most efficient in my use of all mine.

You better believe I’ll sit and watch the Nats even if I could be working out or cleaning my room.  No question I’ll put off my homework to hit up the open gym for a couple of hours of ball.  And it’s more than likely that I’ll talk on the phone so late that I can barely stand up when I get up at 6 for work, if I’m talking to the right person.  In fact, I put an idiotic amount of time and effort into writing this blog.  I don’t want to put myself on a pedestal, because I waste plenty of time, and it almost has to be that way.  The world we live in is so stressful and fast paced that we need to take some time to do what we love instead of what is most effective.  It’s just a question of priorities.

 

It’s not my purpose to speculate about how we got to the point that gathering information became the pinnacle of human activity.  Instead, I want to propose that gathering information isn't actually what makes us happy, and if more people understood and lived that we’d see fewer articles about Dwight Howard’s controversial year in LA and subsequent move to Houston, no question.  What would we see more of, though?  I’m not sure.  We’re all different and we’d all set our priorities differently.  I know some things I’d do better, though.  I’d get better grades, hang out with my kid sisters, play the guitar well, and live my religion a little better.  The majority of us would dedicate at least some of that extra time to doing and being good.  That’s what we want.  We all want a better world, but we’ll have to put our phones and remotes down before we’ll see it.

When I said, "Silly..."

“That was a silly play.  Now, when I said ‘silly,’ I meant ‘stupid.’”   - Sir Charles Barkley

That maxim, delivered during some NBA game on TNT sometime, changed my life.  If Balls and Beards were already a radio show, there would be a daily segment called “When I say ‘silly,’ I mean ‘Stupid.’”  As it is, we’ll post occasional videos, photos, and GIFs that fit the bill.

For example, this one (courtesy of BleacherReport.com and thebiglead.com), in which a Japanese player by the name of Uchimura gets a bit overexcited at the prospect of gently nudging a ball down the first base line.  I don't think even Vlad Guerrero would have tried to hit that.  Although in the spirit of full disclosure, I’ve actually been known to dive like that to take bullets for people—with about the same success, which is why I’m here to write this blog and my friends aren’t around to read it.

Now, we can all tell that baseball is very important to Mr. Uchimura, but if he’s going lay out for pitchouts, he should think about switching to the standing long jump, or perhaps a sport that isn’t televised.  Or at the very least asking the network not to display or even say his name at any time in the broadcast.

Superstition and Moses-- Unrelated!

Before we start we’d like to say Congrats to Deshka Olson on her scholarship to Loyola Marymount! Hopefully, you can destroy D1 Basketball just like Josh and I destroyed Jedd Tibbitts!

Thanks for liking Balls and Beards.We’re happy you’re taking the time to sit down and enjoy our thoughts on balls and beards. We hope that we can entertain you and let you feel a part of our blog. We welcome insight, comments and suggestions. We hope that you have liked our Facebook page and have shared it with your friends.

Anyways, here’s the story behind this madness. Josh and I became friends while we served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was there that we discovered how similar our love for sports is. Josh and I served together as companions in Salmon, Idaho. I don’t know how many of you have been to Salmon, Idaho but it’s small. Really small! Small like the fan base for the Jacksonville Jaguars. Salmon has about 3,300 people and 30,000 cows. Unless you like milking and preg checking cows you better have some good friends or have a good imagination to entertain you. This is where we had the time and desire to come up with Balls and Beards.

One thing that has been on my mind lately is superstitions in sports. Why do we as humans think that doing small things will affect whether or not our team does better? I won’t lie I have had recent experience with this. During the NBA Finals, the games I didn’t watch the Spurs won and the games I did watch the Heat won. So do I actually believe it that the Heat won because I, Steven MacDonald of Vienna, Virginia watched the game? Heck yes I do. I mean we’re talking about LeBron taking my inner hatred toward him and using it as fuel to beat the San Antonio Old Guys! I will live the rest of my life regretting that I watched the 2013 NBA Finals. Rally caps are another superstition that blows my mind. I really enjoy that 20 year old men think that putting hats on inside out like Forrest Gump will help them come back from 5 runs. Here’s some advice that will help you more than rally caps: 1. Wear your hat like a normal person. 2. Play baseball better than Nick Johnson. 3. Look at Step 2.

Beard of the Week: There’s one very important person who contributed to this creation. His name is Moses, well not really, most people know him as James Harden. Here’s a perfect picture of our main man. Unfortunately he isn’t with the Thunder anymore. I am excited for Moses, Superman and Linsanity to hook up in H-Town. Thankfully, Houston is big enough for the three of them.

It Is All About Balls and Beards

Balls and Beards was the brainchild of two guys during one of those ridiculous late night conversations.  You know the ones I mean.  The original topic? I can’t remember.  How we came to decide that we’d have a radio show and call it Balls and Beards?  Don’t remember that either.  The ideas we brainstormed?  Nope.  Gone.  It was late and I was tired.  Give me a break.

Whatever prompted it and whatever followed, the result is the same—this sports blog by guys, for guys who like balls and beards.  And when I say “like balls,” I mean it in the most obvious sense.  Sports are all about balls.  It takes balls to play games like football and rugby that involve huge collisions and gnarly injuries and more testosterone than Jose Canseco would even know what to do with.  Rugby balls and footballs, obviously.  Never mind the horsehide balls required to play baseball, where the balls fly through the air at 95 miles an hour (and that’s before some lunk with a bat tries to hit the ball 400 feet.)  And goodness knows flops like Manu’s and LeBron’s wouldn’t happen if it weren’t for the balls that Dr. James Naismith suggested you might throw through peach baskets.

Say what you will about the previous paragraph, but everyone likes a good beard.  In some instances, a good beard overcomes the face that hosts it.  And here at Balls and Beards, a good beard will always (sometimes?) take precedence over anything of any magnitude that doesn’t involve a beard.  Think about it.  When Blake Griffin dunked over a car, what did you focus on?  Jumping over a mid-size sedan?  No, because Griffin can jump over a mid-size redwood.  The distracting and fairly stupid presence of a car on a basketball court?  No, because very distracting and supremely stupid mascots are allowed on basketball courts all the time (more on that another day).  The thing of note was Baron Davis popping out of the sunroof, or more accurately, Baron’s beard popping out from the sunroof.

"I defy you to dunk on this beard."
-Baron Davis

Look at that thing!  Rarely, if ever, has there been such a notable neck-beard in the world’s history.  Likely Baron’s prowess on the hardwood is dependent on his beard.  It’s a little known fact that Pheidippides, the world’s first marathon runner, died in an attempt to grow a neck beard like Baron’s.  The legend goes that his heart gave out because of the physical exertion of running 25 miles from Marathon to Athens, but the truth is that his heart broke when he realized that he just could not grow such a good beard.

The real reason for Balls and Beards is sports talk.  Not in competition with the major players in sports news, but to glory a bit in standing in their shadow.  Deep down, we know that we aren’t better at analyzing sports than ESPN, the same way that armchair all-stars know that as much as they rag on Dwight Howard for his free throw shooting, the last time they shot 60% from the line was their sophomore year of high school (3 of 5, baby!).  Being a sports fan is all about talking big and caring so much your heart just might pop if YouTube suggests that you might want to watch Bartman ruin the Cubs’ playoff run in ’03 one more time.

Spectator sports are an irrational, wonderful thing.  Every year, Redskins fans truly think that even Dan Snyder can’t ruin the newest roster.  Every year, Cubs fans really, honestly believe that this year their boys will win the World Series.  Every year, a dedicated fan base believes that their eternal happiness can actually be secured by one last championship run by Tim Duncan (age 71) and company.

Steven and I actually think that someday we could have a radio show that people would want to listen to—a show that would be relevant.  That would brighten Joe Schmoe’s day on the way home from his boring job as the manager of quality control at the Chapstick factory.  That some kid would learn to love baseball like we do listening to us get worked up because Dan Haren and his 6.15 ERA are ruining our lives, from the Disabled List.  That’s why we’re here (figuratively, of course.  We are not actually on your screen).

On Balls and Beards, you’ll see some ridiculous things (see paragraphs 2, 3, and 4) that don’t really mean a thing, some commentary on the culture of sports or some scrub who’s ruining our lives by playing a game, some pictures or videos we enjoy, and occasionally something that might actually matter.  Keep an eye on us.