Hey LeBron, it’s cool. I didn’t talk to the media, either.
No way. Not after my team’s shattering loss in the consolation contest of Saturday’s 2009 Bucks Media Game. Couldn’t bring myself to speak at all. Didn’t matter that nobody was listening anyway. I’ve still got your back, man.
Because for guys like us, losing is just too much to take. And people want us to share our thoughts on it? How can we be bothered for quotes when we’re so upset? Don’t they know we’re athletes of the highest caliber; that we’re artists, far above the banality of mere sound bites?
The gall of the media and fans to want 15 minutes of our time. Jackals.
Not that anybody wanted me for 15 seconds, Bron, but I can only imagine how tough that would’ve been for you, being the Chosen One and all. You’re above that kind of stuff. And I can understand exactly how you felt after that playoff exit. You guys were gonna win a title, just like my team. The stars were aligned for both of us. You’d rally against Orlando and then show Kobe’s Lakers whose puppet was proper.
Meanwhile, we 15 media stalwarts on the Black Team were gonna rip those schlubs on the Green Team. And the White Team? Please. They made Mike Wickett a top draft pick. He’s the guy on the right. The one who’s skinnier than Erin Lobdell on Exile Island.
See, my Black Team was coached by Bucks assistant Kelvin Sampson. Dude’s won two NCAA National Coach of the Year awards. He actually drew up plays for us. Gave ’em numbers and everything. We even did pregame run-throughs. Kelvin yelled at radio icon Doug Russell for not setting a pick. In practice! We talkin’ bout practice! And AP writer Colin Fly was draining treys. And I was… well… I was still 5-foot-3. So Kelvin made me the guy that Doug tried picking.
But I didn’t have to be a star. I’d channel my inner Mark Madsen, be a role player whose role was to stay glued to the bench, just so long as it meant a championship.
But like you, LeBron, my ring is on hold. The Green Team beat us so bad that Kelvin played me for the final six minutes. I touched the ball three times: two inbound passes and one forehead ricochet. We played the White Team closer – close enough that I stayed on the bench – but a clutch shot by WISN’s Stephanie Sutton was the difference. From now on, we call her Rashard.
And that was that. Dreams die hard, my friend. Two games, two losses, zero championships. We still shook everyone’s hands… but I feel you for bypassing that has-been ritual. It’s not like you were tight with anybody from the Magic.
And after blowing off the Magic, you may as well blow off the media, too. Your fans don’t need to hear from you, the franchise, after the biggest loss in franchise history. After all, they had Mo Williams.
Just like nobody needed to hear from me. You and me, LeBron. I see you working. Because we’re on the same level with that type of stuff.
Brewers Meet Their Match?
On the other hand, maybe Brandon Phillips should stop talking to the media.
Because Phillips watched his Cincinnati Reds lose three straight to the Brewers, by a combined score of 17-9, then thought it was a good idea to say this.
“I feel we’re a better team than the Brewers.”
Sure you are, Brandon. By any conceivable measurement. Except, of course, the on-field results and Milwaukee’s lead in the N.L. Central standings. But those tools are probably overrated, right?
Left out of the Dayton Daily News story were some other things that Brandon Phillips “feels:”
Like that the 13-win Washington Nationals are better than the 1927 Yankees.
And that Joe Morgan and Tim McCarver are better announcers than two drunks at a bar.
And that Brett Favre makes better decisions than an airborne nickel.
Brewers Reward Persistence
A couple of weeks ago, I told you the story of Brewers minor leaguer Mike Burns, who was pitching great for Triple-A Nashville, but admitted he was a longshot to pitch for the big league club this season. “Realistically, as far as me getting a shot, something would have to go wrong,” said Burns, who wasn’t even on Milwaukee’s 40-man roster.
But it turns out, something did go wrong. And so the 30-year-old Burns, a new father with his fifth organization, gets another shot at the major leagues. It’s a story of a guy matching persistence with performance and being rewarded for both. And that’s the kind of guy who’s very easy to root for.
Pitcher Disarmed
Note to Doug Melvin. If you’re gonna draft Texas pitcher Austin Wood, double up on the doctor’s exam. Somehow the guy threw 13 shutout innings and 169 pitches on Saturday. Because, you know, 170 would’ve been pushing it.
Don’t forget to tune in every Tuesday morning during the 6 o’clock hour when I join Doug Russell and Mike Wickett on SportsRadio 1250 AM for Tuesdays with Howie. You can also find the segments in their Audio Vault. And I’ll chat with Mitch Teich on WUWM’s Lake Effect on Friday at 10 a.m.
