It's Baseball Season!

Well, as anyone who reads my blog knows by now, the Hornets' "magical" season came to an end about 13 hours ago. I'm not quite sure if it's totally hit me yet, as several scotches has a way of numbing your mind and body to everything occurring around you. I'm not gonna dwell on what "could have been." No, I'm not gonna sit here and write about Bonzi Wells' missed layup and all-around horrendous play during the series. Or the fact that David West (who I still love and respect) missed SO MANY makeable shots in the 2nd half last night. Or CP3's missed Free Throws. Or Jannero Pargo's playing 1-on-5 over the last several minutes of the game, refusing to even look for his two All-Star teammates, instead jacking up whatever shot he saw. No, I'm not gonna sit here and write about all that.

Throughout the regular season, which was a surprisingly strong one for my Hornets, I repeatedly told several friends that I'd be "happy" with a playoff berth and winning 1 series. Such is the nature of the NBA. Teams sort of have to pay their dues, building experience and camaraderie before being able to make the jump to "championship caliber." So, from that perspective, I should be happy, like I said I would be. But then I see the Phoenix Suns and Dallas Mavericks - two teams who slowly climbed the ladder to be in the position of "championship contenders", only to never have done it. Now, their windows appear to be closed. While the Hornets' best players - CP3, David West and Tyson Chandler are all relatively young, healthy and under contract for the immediate future, the hard fact remains that there is absolutely no guarantee of future success. Only time will tell.

All in all, I'm holding up relatively well. In the waning minutes of the game last night, when the verdict was sealed, a picture of my nephew Dilen popped up on my screensaver, which helped put things in perspective. Overall, life is pretty good. I live in LA, have great friends/family, a beautiful niece and nephew who I get to spend a lot of time with, and an amazing girlfriend who came over after the game to buy me dinner and generally distract me from what had just happened. In less than a month, I (knock on wood) will have a Master's Degree (Business or not - a Master's is a Master's) and, eventually, I hope, a high-paying job. Or some sort of job, anyways.

Also, I've realized over the last couple weeks that one of the major reasons I've become increasingly obsessed with the success (or lack thereof) of my favorite sports teams is the fact that I spend so much more time following them, mainly because of the Internet. So for the last week or so, I've tried to cut back a little bit, staying away from the Hornets' blogs and not obsessively watching all the SportsCenter analysis. Today, I'm giving myself the true test. No ESPN, no espn.com, no ESPN Radio. Nothing. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I went 24+ hours without any access to sports information, as even when I travel I usually surf the web for at least 15 minutes a day to check scores. I'll admittedly probably cheat and ask someone about the Mets (they play a pretty big doubleheader against the Braves today), but other than that, this will truly test whether I am master of my domain.

Moving on, it's now officially time to come on out and greet the Mets!

UPDATE #1: I've made it to 5pm. No ESPN, no ESPN Radio, no espn.com. Nada. But I'm struggling. Not sure I'll make it.

UPDATE #2: I pretty much made it. 630am on Wednesday. I got some auto text/email alerts from sportsline.com, some people in class talking about the Bulls winning the draft lottery and some unintentional/unwanted ESPN coverage of Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Finals. But other than that, nothing. There was a little vomiting and a lot of sweating, but I made it. Now, I've got some catching up to do.

I lasted 10 days

I tried to hold out for a while longer. A big Game 1 win over the Spurs, and I resisted temptations to write about my excitement. A 2-0 lead? I refrained. But then I saw this old SportsCenter Flashback and I couldn't help but post. I'm, as anyone who knows me already knows, a relatively emotionless guy who most of you assume is made of skin, bones, and vodka, with no heart whatsoever. But I've watched this clip twice now, and both times found myself tearing up a little with about a minute left in the video. Whether or not you appreciate CP3 for his ridiculous game (how can you not? seriously), you gotta love this story. Go Hornets!

The Season Continues

No, no, no. This isn't turning into a Hornets' blog. If you want one of those, which I'm sure none of you do, go here for a really good one. But I figure I gotta blog about something. I haven't traveled anywhere in a while (Hawaii doesn't count since all I did was watch basketball, eat heavily and drink even more heavily - three things I could have done just as easily and less expensively from the comfort of my own home). I'm frankly pretty sick of the Democratic primary process. And, at 28 and still looking for a job, I probably shouldn't be putting in public media my drunken party tales. So, for now, it's all about the Hornets.


What a day for my Bugs. This morning, Byron Scott was presented with the NBA Coach of the Year award. I've been hard on (ha-ha) Byron all season, including yelling loudly at him at a Hornets-Clippers game in January for inexplicably playing ex-Hornet Marcus Vinicius, but he's starting to grow on me, and I think he legitimately deserved the award. Just like I think CP3 deserves the MVP. Which he ain't gonna get, but whatevers.


Several hours later, above was the scene in NOLA. David West and Tyson Chandler hugging it out (bitch) after the Hornets quickly and pretty easily disposed of the Dallas Mavericks in 5 games (I called 6 - very happy to have been wrong on that). Next up are either the Spurs or the Suns, preferably, but unlikely, the Suns.

Below: LOSER!!!

Only The Beginning...

The NBA Playoffs start tomorrow, and I can't even describe how excited I am. So excited that I'm gonna sit and watch American Gangster at home on a beautiful Friday afternoon because I know my next 2 months or so are completely occupied with basketball (and, to a much, much smaller extent, trying to find a job).

The above image, if the words on the t-shirts aren't clear, is of MY New Orleans Hornets celebrating their first ever Southwest Division title, after completing a franchise-best 56-26 season (unfortunately they only went 1-1 in the games I actually went to...damn Lakers and their quick starts). We get Dallas in the first round, and tomorrow begins the "CP3 dominates in the postseason" era. I'm so pumped for the game that I'm actually voluntarily spending several extra hours with Atur, just to ensure I get to San Diego in time for the 4pm tipoff. That's dedication.

Frankly, I'm glad all the "experts" are picking the Mavericks. All the pressure is off. CP3, David West, Tyson, Peja, JuJu and the rest of the Bugs can just go out and do their thing. Hornets in 6.

Sports Meets Politics

Don't worry. I don't care enough about baseball, Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, etc. to write about the steroids scandal being hotly pursued (at taxpayer expense) by the U.S. Congress.

Instead, this is about U.S. basketball, specifically the Olympic team. I was listening to an espn.com podcast that included an interview with Chris Sheridan, an ESPN NBA analyst who is their leading contributor when it comes to Team USA. He was discussing the three major concerns that the guy running Team USA has right now as we head into the Summer Games in Beijing - 1) Kobe's pinky (makes sense), 2) the fatigue factor (given most top NBA players play a pretty grueling schedule well into April, May and even June, this makes sense too), and 3) money. WTF?! This came as a complete shock to me.

I'm no expert on Olympic sports and how they're funded, but I always assumed that they were entirely funded by the federal government. I can't be the only one that thought this, right? Where else can our 30+% be going? OK, that's an entirely different debate.

I haven't bothered to do the research, but I'm now figuring the basketball team is sort of self-funded (through ticket/merchandise sales) with contributions from the government and private sources. Seems kind of ridiculous.

What really bothered me, though, was when Sheridan pointed out that Team USA was considering playing an additional exhibition game in Taiwan during the summer, pre-Olympics, to raise some cold, hard yuan. The issue with this, of course, is that this only adds to the fatigue concerns. While one exhibition game in Taiwan might not seem like a big deal, Sheridan noted that it's not that simple, including the fact that it involves a non-direct flight through Hong Kong. We all know how tiring stop-and-go travel can be when all you're doing is sitting in front of a computer or lying on the beach. These guys have to play ball, make media appearances, etc., etc.

What it all comes down to is competition. As anyone who has followed Team USA basketball since they started using professional players in Barcelona '92, the team has seen much better days, and international competition is only getting better. Now our players, representing you and I and every other American in the biggest, most-publicized international competition in sports, are under-funded and over-worked? Explain to me how we have billions upon billions to support an endless, fruitless war (not to mention millions, or at least hundreds of thousands, to investigate steroids in baseball), but we can't come up with cash to ensure our Olympic basketball team can compete at the highest level. How much can it cost to fly these guys around in a charter plane, house and feed them and their wives and maybe even some of their entourage for a couple months? To sew up and wash some shorts and jerseys? To hire some translators to make sure they know what they're ordering at the local KFC?

Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Go Team USA!

For the Record

You all know by now that Shaq has been traded for Shawn Marion. You've all read the mostly negative comments that the analysts have made regarding the Suns' side of the trade. I was the first guy on that bandwagon. Within minutes of reading about the trade, I was google-chatting with a friend and compared this trade to the earlier trades of Kevin Garnett to the Celtics for Al Jefferson and change, and the trade of Pau Gasol to the Lakers for just the change. Below is a part of that chat transcript:

10:24 PM rishi: NBA execs are retarded
me: this one is beyond retarded
rishi: Wade must be ecstatic
me: the gasol and KG deals were at least somewhat defensible

So, clearly, I had a strong initial opinion on the trade, and it wasn't positive on the Suns or The Big Diesel.

Over the last couple of days though, I've heard A LOT of interviews with analysts, the Suns' coach, the Suns' GM, and, of course, I watched parts of Shaq's introductory press conference. And now, I'm singin a different tune.

For the record: Phoenix WILL win an NBA championship in the next two years.

Why? Call it a gut feeling. For anyone that follows the NBA, I obviously have no "fundamental" reason to think this was a good trade for the Suns. It can't be argued - right now, Shawn Marion is a better basketball player than Shaq. How, then, can I make such a crazy prediction?

Two words - chemistry and motivation.

Though everyone publicly denies it, there's been no doubt that Marion and Amare Stoudamire dislike/hate/don't get along with each other. Amare is gonna play like he's never played before (and will DOMINATE opposing PFs in the 20 or so minutes a game that Shaq plays). And, on motivation, well, we've seen what a hungry Shaq can do (a la, helping D-Wade lead Miami to a title just 2 years ago). Call me crazy, but I think the opportunity to prove all the critics wrong, the opportunity to maybe go against Kobe and/or arch-nemesis Tim Duncan in the playoffs - all those opportunities will motivate Shaq to stay in shape enough to at least contribute 20-25 minutes a game when it counts. Throw in a still top-flight PG in Steve Nash, a healthy, pumped-up Amare Stoudamire, and spare parts such as Leandro Barbosa, Grant Hill and Boris Diaw, and the result: your 2007-2008 (or 2008-2009) NBA Champion Phoenix Suns!

Note: If they lose to CP3 and my Hornets in the playoffs, I will be happy. My prediction will be wrong, and I'll eat the proverbial crow. But of course, I'll be happy.

We interrupt regularly scheduled programming...

I know I still have a lot of posting to do about my vacation. But what happened last night warrants an audible.

Most of you probably know what I'm talking about. It started around 4:30 p.m., as #17 Kentucky knocked off #1 LSU in a triple-overtime thriller. Anuj, his brother Anish and Neel, who were over at my place to watch Cal-Oregon State, joined me in celebration. Part of it, for me at least, was personal, as I hate LSU Coach Les Miles for comments he has made about Pac-10 football, including my beloved alma mater Cal. But most of the celebration was because Cal, as the #2 team in the country, was in position to capture the #1 ranking for the first time since my parents were 4 years old. Rankings, to some extent, are meaningless, at least at this point in the season, but it was an exciting proposition nevertheless.

Well, any male reader knows what happens next. Cal was, for the most part, outplayed over the course of the next several hours. Angry Cal fans/alums will point to one of two things: 1) Coach Tedford deciding to try for one more play, rather than just taking the FG opportunity and trying to win in overtime, or 2) Redshirt Freshman QB Kevin Riley's admittedly inexplicable (the AP recap of the game actually used the word 'inexplicably' - you don't see that too often from one of today's most objective media sources) decision to scramble with 14 seconds left in the game and no timeouts. I, however, look at the fact that Cal's defense couldn't get off the field on 3rd down all game, or that supposed Heisman candidate DeSean Jackson had 4 catches for all of 5 yards, or that super-sensational true freshman Jahvid Best fumbled when he was (gently) bumped into by one of his own men, or that we couldn't punch it in on 4 tries after we had 1st and goal from the 2 (horrible play calling, btw). We lost that game over the course of it, not on any one decision/play.

In any event, it doesn't really matter what the reason is. We lost, and 15 hours later, I still can't think of a more painful way to lose a game and, more importantly, an opportunity, a possibility, that we might get to play for the national title in January (no matter what Aashish or anyone else says, I don't think there's a chance in hell that the title game is even a remote possibility anymore). I was obviously too depressed to go out and party last night, so I tried to cheer myself up with ice cream and a (mediocre) Chris Rock movie with Seema. Worked for a little while, but I still woke up hurting.

Now, I'm sitting and hoping the Eagles (up 10-6 on the really crappy J-E-T-S) and/or my fantasy football team can salvage the weekend. Also wondering if 10:47 a.m. is too early to numb the pain with some good scotch. I think I'll wait 13 more minutes. 10:47 is still morning. 11 is daytime.

In need of a vacation…

Since it had been a month since my last trip, a week spent in Japan (yes, I gave up on blogging about Japan – sorry), I felt I deserved another vacation. After all, in that month, I had secured a summer internship, read some Strategy cases, did some homework, and made it to the gym a few times. It was time to relax. So I basically took the last 4 days off.

The mini-vacay started Wednesday night at the Dodgers-Giants game. The highlight of the game was without a doubt Barry Bonds’ 3-run home run in the top of the 1st inning. Unfortunately, we were still on the freeway at that point and only managed to catch the highlight on the radio and later on ESPNEWS. Other than that, the game was pretty much drinking and eating and watching the Dodgers futile efforts to come back fall short, as they lost 6-4.

After actually studying a little in the middle of my vacation on Thursday afternoon, we headed to Lakers-Suns Game 3 on Thursday evening. After 90 or so minutes of navigating Pico Blvd., Anuj and I finally made it Staples, parked the car, and caught the tail end of a radio show outside the arena, where we were pleased to meet Lindsey (below) and snap a quick photo with her. After a couple cocktails at the Fox Sports Bar, Atur and his fiancée, Sonal, arrived, only to find out that Sonal had accidentally bought tickets for Home Game 1 of Series D, not Series A. Well, Series D would be the NBA Finals, and it doesn’t look like there’s gonna be a Home Game 1 at Staples. Fortunately, Asim was nice enough to give Atur and Sonal his tickets (as a birthday gift to Atur), as Anuj and I just wandered into the arena to avoid the awkward situation. After the Suns jumped out to an 11-0 lead, it turned out to be a good game that the Lake Show ended up winning in the end. What really shocked me was how rowdy and excited all the Lakers’ fans were after the game, considering all the wins and championships in the team’s history. While I was admittedly happy for my Laker fan friends, as I told Anuj as we walked out, “Act like you’ve been there before.”


On Friday morning, I took a big step forward in my life – my first out-of-town trip with a girl I’m dating. The destination was kept a surprise from Seema (her guess was that I was taking her to f*cking Catalina – clearly I haven’t impressed her thus far) – we drove up to San Francisco and arrived to our hotel in Union Square at around 2pm. Spent a couple hours walking around in the blazing, atypical SF heat, reliving the Berkeley days where our most exciting excursions were Friday or Saturday afternoon trips to shop at Macy’s or the mall, or a birthday dinner at Cheesecake Factory. We had plans to meet T, his gf Kathleen, G, Aashish and Ronak for a drink before our 8pm dinner rezzie, which I knew was dangerous, but I figured Terence would keep everyone in check and make sure our schedule was met. However, by 7:30, only Aashish had shown up. I had changed dinner to 8:30 by that time, but the rest of the guys didn’t know that, so why were they dragging? Well, when they showed up, they informed me that they had taken the courtesy of calling the restaurant and changing our reservation for us, to 9pm. So thoughtful. The next hour consisted of wine and jokes made at my expense, most of which seemed designed to make sure I received no “benefits” from spending the time and money to plan a nice weekend away. Fortunately, Seema was buzzed enough that she laughed off and/or forgot most of it, and all was well – to this minute, I don’t know what exactly G was referring to when he texted me later in the evening, “Sorry for that bro.” Dinner was at Saha, which came on recommendation for Terence, and I will gladly recommend it to anyone else. Pretty reasonably priced - even more reasonable for me, since Seema paid for it :) - Arabic food, with excellent service in a very nice, casual setting at the Hotel Carlton.

On Saturday morning, we woke up to what is the worst feeling on a vacation – the wake-up call. We had to be in Calistoga (Napa Valley) at 10:45 sharp for a winery tour/tasting that I had booked. We made the drive and arrived right in the nick of time. As we waited in line, some douchebag ahead of us was bitching at the guy at the counter about a messed up reservation that was apparently not recorded properly. He made some comment about how, if the reservation wasn’t made properly by a certain employee, he was gonna “chew his ass”..poor choice of words by this dude (who exhibited other traits that led us to believe that ass-chewing was part of his, how do you say - repertoire), and we had a good laugh or two about this over the course of the weekend.

The reserve tour – at Sterling Vineyards – was very nice, highlighted by a tram ride that took us to the tasting rooms, an educational tour led by our friendly French guide (Jean Pierre, of course) and tasting probably 8-10 wines – whites, reds, the whole nine yards. The wine was fantastic – these guys make a special wine for the annual Academy Awards post-ceremony dinner. In hindsight, I realized this tour should have been the final stop rather than the first – since I was going to be driving all around Napa all afternoon, I refrained from finishing most of the glasses, and left far too much paid-for wine on the table.

From there, we spent the rest of the afternoon at a couple other wineries – Silver Oak (all Cab’s – my favorite), and Mumm – a sparkling wine place. It was a beautiful, albeit a bit TOO hot, afternoon in Napa, and we thoroughly enjoyed all the wine, as well as the pizza spot where we had lunch. Seema also thoroughly enjoyed the company of Ignacio, the waiter at Mumm who she decided it was OK to flirt with despite me sitting right there. I guess I should have paid for that dinner at Saha. Or not constantly sent and received text messages to stay on top of the NFL Draft (thanks Aashish). Lesson learned.

We spent the evening at Vintage Inn, a beautiful B&B-type place in Yountville, and had dinner at Mustard’s Grill, which, like pretty much every other spot on our journey, is highly recommended to anyone going to Napa in the future (but try to avoid sitting next to the jerkoff who was shouting nonsense at his date all evening – I even heard the term “EBIT” come out of his mouth at one point). Excellent ribs, fish, wine, and service. (Sidebar: The service all weekend was FANTASTIC. It’s something I’m very particular about and have been generally dissapointed with in LA – maybe if all these losers worried less about their soon-to-be-failed acting careers, they could do a better job of actually waiting tables and earning their 15+%).

Sunday was the depressing end of a wonderful 4-day vacation, spent driving home for about 6 ½ hours, capped by studying (sort of) for tomorrow’s HR/OB midterm and watching Dallas blow yet another game to the Warriors.

In Union Square:

Dinner at Saha:

A Bevy of Wines at Sterling Vineyards:

At Mumm:


Dinner at Mustard's Grill:

March Madness...

Is quickly turning into March Sadness in Palo Alto, as the Louisville Cardinals have jumped out to a 17-8 lead over the Stanford Cardinal, in what I have cheesily dubbed the "Battle of Singular vs. Plural."

These 4 days are amongst my favorite of the year - 48 College Basketball games in a 4-day period. Last year, I spent all 4 days in a drunken, sleepless stupor in Las Vegas. From a gambling perspective, I approximately broke even, which I thought was pretty impressive considering I bet on probably 25-30 of the games as well as played hours upon hours of blackjack every day - like I said, on little-no sleep and with 10-50 drinks in me.

Unfortunately, this year, I was unable to make the trek to Vegas due to Finals that start on Monday. In hindsight, I probably should be there anyways, considering I did pretty well last quarter in terms of grades, and I'm still sitting here without a job. Oh well, lesson learned I suppose. It'd be the first one since I started school again. I am quite proud of the fact that no one else in last year's group made the trek this year, as without my leadership skills they were not able to properly coordinate.

Anyways, since I decided to skip most of my classes today to sit on my couch and watch basketball, and since CBS insists on showing this blowout (now 25-10 plurals), I figured the least I could do was write this quick blog. Quick question - is 9:59 a.m. too early to drink Scotch by myself? It's 18-year-aged Scotch, if that makes a difference.

Forgive me if this is a bit incoherent...

but i'm kinda buzzed right now. And i'm definitely disillusioned. My beloved Eagles just lost to "America's team", the New Orleans Saints. And we lost in just horrible, gut-wrenching fashion. I can't even summarize what happened, because if I try to re-live it, I'll probably vomit all over my laptop.

As I was trading texts during the game with my friend and fellow Eagles' fan Rishi, I asked him if he ever enjoys the actual game. He said no, and that's how I feel as well. Sure, I jump up and down, chest-bump, and celebrate when the Eagles score or make a big defensive play. But for the other 2 hours and 57 minutes of the game, I'm sitting there with my stomach churning and hands shaking. I honestly don't remember the last time I sat back and enjoyed an entire Eagles game. Probably a month or so ago, when our season looked like it was over, so there was really nothing to lose. Then we went on a nice little roll behind Gay Garcia (not that there's anything wrong with that), winning our last 5 regular season games, including sweeping our 3 division rivals, all on the road, in consecutive weeks. We won the division and beat the mediocre New York football Giants in the Wild Card game last Sunday. What did it all culminate in? Another loss. Just like every other fucking season.

Honestly, I WISH I wasn't an Eagles fan. I wish I wasn't a fan of ANY sports team. The highs are great but so short-lived. The lows are low, painful, and enduring. I'm sitting here at home while all my friends are drinking and getting ready to go out and party. It is, after all, Saturday night. But I can't even imagine going out and trying to have a good time right now. Good times are the last thing on my mind.

In closing, I'm sure there's a bunch of Eagles fans out there saying or thinking something like, "If we had to lose, I'm glad we lost to the Saints" because of all that's happened to the unfortunate residents of the city of New Orleans over the last year and a half. Am I thinking that? Fuck no. Have fun celebrating in your dirty, miserable city. Yeah, go ahead and call me a prick. If you know me, you know I don't give a fuck what you think. Fuck. FUCK!

This is Painful

There's 1:43 to go in the first half. Seattle 28, Philadelphia 0. 3 interceptions. 2 returned for TDs, the other to the Eagles' 3 yard line. Looks like my Iggles are gonna be the 5th straight Superbowl loser to miss the playoffs. It's been an excruciating 11 months, dating back to the Superbowl loss to the Patriots, to all the TO drama, to Jerome McDougle getting shot in a robbery, to Pinkston and Buckhalter suffering season-ending injuries during the preseason, to more TO drama, to McNabb getting hurt.

While I'll never give up hope that we can go 9-7 (hell, maybe even 10-6 if something miraculous happens in the 2nd half tonight), I'm a realist, and it looks like 2005 is a lost season for my birds. I am fully confident we'll retool in the offseason and get healthy. We'll sure as hell be pissed off about this horrible season, take the last place schedule the NFL will give us, and come back to win the newly-strong NFC East. I'm not sure off the top of my head where next year's Superbowl is, but God knows it's gotta be in a better city than Detroit. I'm gonna book my plane ticket tomorrow.

Good night. Oh, by the way, it's 35-0 Seattle now. I need a drink.