Nick's Knacks

On this morning’s show, Maino regaled us with tales of his brief and uneventful “career” as a volunteer firefighter.  He claims he never actually made it to a fire, but this video brought to our attention by heisman316 suggests otherwise: 

It’s one of my favorite pieces of clubhouse slang in the MLB dictionary – “the golden sombrero.”  He who dons such a label does so dubiously, following a four strikeout performance at the plate.  Rickie Weeks succeeded in securing said piece of headgear last night in Houston. 

It’s no secret this has been a disaster of a season for #23, begging the question: “Was Dale Sveum that critical to his (or any hitter on the team, for that matter) success?”  It might be reasonable to answer yes at this point.  I don’t know exactly what is wrong with the dude, but it’s fair to assume that 90% of it is half mental (thanks, Yogi). 

So there’s only one thing left to do – make light of it. 

Don’t sit him down to watch tape of his swing.  Don’t commit him to extra time in the cage.  That’s the last thing he needs.  He’s already thinking too much.  Make him laugh, make him have fun again.  When the team returns to Miller Park, I want to see Cinco rockin’ a golden sombrero. 

There’s nothing worse than the official who manages a game as though he’s the reason tens of thousands of fans turned out to the stadium.  Scratch that, there’s nothing worse than the official who manages a little league game as though he’s the reason a dozen parents turned out to the field.  And yet I am strangely drawn to this fellow.  

Generally speaking, I like my home plate boy in blue to ring up a dude with a simple punch. But I think I would actually attend just to see this guy in action:

I’m curious to know if he kept this up all game, and if so, how his back was doin’ the morning after.

The single most important offensive fundamental in football is the center – quarterback exchange.  What appears as routine a skill as any, can prove quite the contrary when a guy’s butt is literally in one’s hands, however.  I mean, when you really strip it down, it’s about as awkward a visual as you’ll find in sports, and I always imagined it difficult for the QB to psychologically overcome the hurdle of nestling up to his teammate's rear end, especially with a center who likes to sit up a little higher in the stance, and especially late in the game when the pants start to get a little damp, so to speak.

Go ahead, insert “Grow up, Nick” here…I know…these guys are professionals and the last thing Aaron Rodgers is worried about when he breaks the huddle is how sweaty Jeff Saturday’s butt is. 

Or is it?

Turns out that #12 is quite cognizant of both butt sweat and butt height, albeit for different reasons than I harbor concern.  Rodgers jumped on with Cabral “Cabbie” Richards on Cabbie Presents: The Podcast on TSN Radio and had this to say on each: CHECK IT OUT HERE 

Who knew Usain Bolt was such a Rocky fan?

According to a report coming out of Kingston, Jamaica, the world’s fastest human has bolted (get it?) from his fashion designer girlfriend, Lubica Slovak, citing not irreconcilable differences, rather the desire to focus on dominating the upcoming summer games in London.

A source close to Bolt said, "He will have plenty of time for relationships. At the moment, he's concentrating on his running career and doesn't want anything to distract from that.”

Riiiiiiiiight.

First of all, based on the races I have watched, dude can afford a distraction or two and still take the field comfortably.  And seriously now, let’s call this like it is – no matter what the year, no matter the host country, no matter winter or summer, for just over two weeks, the chosen epicenter of Olympic competition becomes a true exercise in international relations.  It's no secret.  Bolt can hide behind the veil of focus, but this is a clear case of the Ross Geller “we were on a break” defense strategy. 

How much you wanna bet Bolt and the Slovakian Slovak (that’s not a joke…she’s from Slovakia) will be right back to holdin’ hands come September?  Of course, it’s a risky strategy, for if Bolt says “adios” and fails to win gold…then comes crawling back to his lady…that’s one titanic trump card for Slovak.

Good luck with that, my friend.

It was training camp 2006, my first solo shot inside the Packers locker room.  It’s kind of free-for-all in there, and I was absolutely intimidated by the nudge your way into the crowd, work your recorder into the microphone jungle amid the glances of “who the heck are you?” atmosphere.  So instead of engaging, I pulled a Maverick and bugged out, seeking any soul around whom no one was gathered. 

It just so happened that Aaron Rodgers was at that point in his career where he was, let’s just say, still under the radar.

So there I was, face-to-face, one-on-one with the eventual Super Bowl XLV MVP.  I’ve only had the opportunity to engage Rodgers thusly on one occasion…that occasion…an occasion I will forever lament as the occasion lost, for I know that occasion will never again surface for as long as either of us walk this earth.

So much I wish I would have asked.  But I, like so many others (inside and outside the media), was still blinded by the iconic star that was Brett Favre.  So instead of interviewing the man Aaron Rodgers, I interviewed the backup quarterback to Brett Favre.  It is a regrettable moment in my career that I am hard pressed to believe will ever be topped.  And every time I see Jeremy Schaap’s E:60 on Rodgers (as I did again last night), it’s like a…I don’t know…I don’t even have the words to adequately describe the sick feeling I get inside.  

Aaron...call me?

Nine series into the 2012 season and this much is clear to me – the Milwaukee Brewers just don’t care.  It’s evident in the undisciplined at-bats, in the mental miscues in the field, in the mind numbing errors on the base paths.  It’s especially apparent in the team’s 1-8 record in series finales. 

I will grant the team injury hardship – another blow today with the official diagnosis of torn ACL for Alex Gonzalez - but the depth chart influences not the effort, unless a man lets it.  And after watching the 2012 Brew Crew lollygag their way through another contest yesterday afternoon, how are we to assume they have done anything but? 

"What’s our record in series finales?"

"1-8."

"1-8. How’d we ever win 1?"

"It's a miracle."

And so I’d like to thank the Milwaukee Brewers…for giving me back my summer.

Now, I know how that sounds.  But before you judge my devotion (or perceived lack thereof), understand this: as a fan, I demand little of my team’s personalities above effort.  I don’t show up because they win.  I don’t depart because they lose.  I stand with the logo because that emblem, those colors, represent something to which I am proud to pledge allegiance.  Work hard, play hard, and I’ll cheer hard.  Fair weather?  Nah.  Just a fair deal.

With the exception of a precious few, the Milwaukee Brewers are all playing like they just got paid.  Coincidence?  Fellas, please...prove me wrong.

PARENTAL ADVISORY: Language at 1:18 

When I was in college, I wrote a paper on the significance of the Beastie Boys on the musical landscape, arguing that the trio revolutionized popular music as we knew it.  I got an A/B on the paper, if I remember correctly, but one detail that is clear as crystal is the comment from my professor that read, “The Beastie Boys are a musical display of mind blowing idiocy.”

I can understand why an educator took issue with MCA, Mike D, and Ad-Rock.  I don’t imagine them model students.  In fact, I don’t imagine them students at all.  Nothing about the Beastie Boys and their lyrics suggests that an education was very high on the list of must-haves.

In many ways, my prof was dead on – if you take the fellas at their lyrical word, the core of the Beastie Boys (at least in their formative years) was primarily Budweiser and pot.  I know my parents were never fond of the dollars I dropped at Sam Goody on cassettes of Licensed to Ill, Paul’s Boutique, and Check Your Head (and later CDs of the rest of their collection).

But you know what?  There are a lot of folks out there who don’t fall into the category of “bring ‘em home to meet mom and dad” who indisputably wear the label of revolutionary. 

Their lyrics didn’t make you think outside the box, didn’t seek to right a social wrong…they’re pretty much nonsensical rhymes set to good beats that often weren’t even their own.  They were brilliant samplers, even better entertainers, and in the end, their genius was in understanding precisely that.  Never taking themselves too seriously, the Beastie Boys recognized the formula, and manipulated it to their end for three decades.  Their longevity alone is a thing of legend.    

I wore the “bleep” out of my Beastie Boys cassette tapes when I was younger.  I’m sure I still have them, along with a Memorex 90 mix tape of all of my Beastie faves.  From my bedroom to locker room to the dorm room and all modes of transportation in between, the Beastie Boys were, and remain, a cinder block in my musical foundation, and that of the entire hip-hop community. 

Time to load-up the iPod Shuffle with all Beastie for this weekend’s yard work.

Last night was a historic night for Ryan Braun of the Milwaukee Brewers, not only the most fertile single-game offensive output of his career, but the first time in Petco Park history that anyone has sent three pitches over the outfield wall in a single showing…fair, that is.  Brauny also set a franchise record for total bases in a single-game at 15.

It was incredible, and hopefully a sign of things to come for the reigning NL MVP who admitted, post game, that he’s been pressing:

"My approach has been really inconsistent,” said Braun.  “I knew coming into the year I was going to try too hard and I was going to be battling that all year.  For me, the biggest challenge offensively is always plate discipline.  As long as I’m swinging at strikes, I know I’ll end up having success eventually.”

By the end of the evening, all (what looked like) 500 fans in attendance were noticeably in Braun’s corner, each audibly pulling for him in his 4^th at-bat, one in which he settled for a two-run triple to the groans of the crowd, though I’m sure the delight of Padres skipper Bud Black.

I didn’t hear any comments from Black after the game, but I imagine the reporter/manager exchange to go a little something like this:

Every year, in the midst of all of the analysis and “I told you so” bravado of the three-day event known as the NFL draft, I renew my amazement with how lost on every major media outlet is the concept of fun. 

The dudes on the respective panels will tell you how much fun they’re having, but their demeanors and their interactions are all business.  Fun is allowed in very small doses, but not encouraged for extended periods of time, and generally only permitted when accompanied by a visual.  In fact, fun appears reserved only for those reactionary contexts when a visual precedes the dialogue.  Like, “Did you just see that?  How fun is that?.”

And then there’s Rich Eisen.

Eisen is that rare combination of preparedness and personality.  Simply put, Eisen “gets it.”  He’s an entertainer with substance.  He is my #1 sports broadcasting man crush:

I first tried beer can chicken when I was in college.  A classmate of mine used to make it on his grill about once a week.  It’s a fantastic (and easy) way to prepare a whole bird, and it’s pretty tough to screw up, especially if you use one of those special beer can chicken brackets that we were talking about on the show this morning. 

There are variations to the recipe all over, but the gist of it is – shove a ½ full can of beer up a whole chicken’s rear…set on grill over indirect heat (or in oven)…fetch in about 90 minutes.  The beer steams and flavors the bird from the inside.  Crazy juicy.  Crazy easy.

Old Clucky could have never seen this comin’:

Let it never be argued again that the NFL is the “No Fun League” … at least, let it never be argued under Commissioner Roger Goodell.

From endless embraces to secret handshakes, Rockin’ Roger Goodell brought the party from his ivory tower to the Radio City Music Hall stage last night, greeting each selection with salutations enough to make a Human Resources Director sweat. 

An apparent conflict of interest may very well be a calculated play by the league’s top dog.  “Friendship” does foster an environment of loyalty, after all.  And I suppose there is also the less diabolical possibility that Goodell is a genuinely caring individual who is happy for these young men.  Regardless, the whole thing just didn’t sit right with me.

In my quest to locate the best of the best – Goodell greeted Fletcher Cox like he just got back from war, and welcomed Melvin Ingram with a “handshake” only a fraternity brother could decode – I came across a fantastic compilation of Round 1’s greatest hits by the fine folks of SBNation.  Enjoy:

http://www.sbnation.com/2012-nfl-draft/2012/4/26/2979022/roger-goodell-hugs-video-2012-nfl-draft