Eight People Out

It's been 6 days since circumstances have allowed me to post here. And it now happens to be September 11.

I woke up that morning 8 years ago, unemployed and with no reason to get up early, and, as was always the case at the time, the first thing I did was turn on the radio. It was after 10:30, so it had already all happened. And the announcer on WCBS, 880 on the AM dial, said, "The World Trade Center is gone."

What do you mean, "gone"? The World Trade Center is gone? A pair of 110-story skyscrapers -- actually, a seven-building complex -- doesn't just disappear. Gone? What, did aliens come along and beam it up?

If it had, there would still, theoretically, have been a chance to get it back. But, no, that was not the case.

Did I hear it right? I had just gotten up. Maybe I misunderstood. I went to the TV, and... nothing.

Of course. Every station had its transmitter on 1 World Trade Center. Except one, WCBS, Channel 2. Theirs was, and remains, at the Empire State Building. They were the only ones broadcasting. And all that was left was a cloud of black smoke.

There's an overpass about a mile from my house where Route 18 goes over the New Jersey Turnpike. It's next to the Tower Center complex, the 23-story "minor league twin towers," as I called them, where the bus takes me into Manhattan. From that overpass, on a clear day, you could see the World Trade Center. On 9/11/01, all you could see was a plume of black smoke, going back seemingly forever.

Three days later, I stood on that overpass again, and it was a plume of white smoke. No, it didn't mean there was a new Pope, or that the Towers would be back.

My father worked in there for six months, before he decided the commute was too long, and he quit. That was two years before the attack. It was a week before he found out that everyone he worked with got out all right.

Not so lucky were, depending whose figures you believe, and whether you count people who got sick from working the rescue and salvage jobs afterward, about 2,750 people. Eight of them were from my home town of East Brunswick, New Jersey.

Siew-Nya Ang, age 37, she worked for Marsh & McLennan Cos.

Susan L. Blair, 35, Aon Corp.

Paul Innella, 33, Cantor Fitzgerald, the brokerage firm that lost more people than any other company.

Hweidar Jian, 42, Cantor Fitzgerald.

Alan D. Kleinberg, 39, Cantor Fitzgerald.

Stuart Seid Louis, 43, Sandler O'Neill & Partners.

Suzanne H. Passaro, 38, Aon Corp.

Kenneth W. Van Auken, 47, Cantor Fitzgerald.

They could have been properly avenged, and properly memorialized. Unfortunately, the job of avenging them was given to George W. Bush, and the job of memorializing them was given to a bunch of New York State bureaucrats.

When the Federal Building was bombed in Oklahoma City, the bastard who did it was identified and arrested in two days, and a fitting memorial was dedicated in just two years.

 It's been eight years, and thanks to Bush letting Osama bin Laden get away in December 2001 because he cared more about the money that could be made in Iraq, the 9/11 victims -- at the Twin Towers, at the Pentagon, and at the field in Shanksville -- remain unavengednd thanks to bureaucrats not caring what the survivors of the victims wanted, it took until this year for anything to be built at Ground Zero, and what the people wanted was not a "Freedom Tower" but the Twin Towers rebuilt -- safer, and taller. If you will, a pair of middle fingers to al-Qaeda.

*

September 11, 2004. Three years later. I was at Oriole Park at Camden Yards to see the Yankees play the Orioles, who were, until the following April, the closest Major League Baseball team to Washington, D.C. and the Pentagon.

The Orioles knew full well that their opponents that day were the home team of Ground Zero, and that the Yankees -- and, to be fair, the Mets as well -- had done so much to comfort the grieving that awful autumn. A special ceremony was convened. Tributes were read, and several rescue workers from the Pentagon threw out ceremonial first balls to various Yankees and Orioles. Very nice.

For the most part, the Orioles, over the years, have been a class organization. But there's one thing about them that bothers me: In that city, where our National Anthem, "The Star-Spangled Banner," was written, the fans do something I really, really don't like.

The song gets to, "Oh, say does that star-spangled... banner yet wave... " And Oriole fans, since their team is called the O's for short, shout, "OHHHH!"

I also heard it when I went to see the Devils play the Washington Capitals at what's now called the Verizon Center in downtown D.C. That isn't even in Baltimore. I've heard they also do it at University of Maryland games, which are on the D.C. side of the State but at least still in the State. But the first time I saw a Washington Nationals game, a few people did it, and it was booed. Good.

When the Baltimore fans did their "O!" on 9/11/2004, I said, "Not today, people!"

The Yankees won that day. Tonight, weather permitting, they will play the Orioles at the new Yankee Stadium. I have heard Oriole fans do the O-shout during the Anthem at the old Stadium, and I hope they don't do it this time.

But I won't be there: Again, weather permitting, Dear Old Alma Mater, East Brunswick High School, opens its football season tonight, at Woodbridge.

*

I'd like to discuss that game, Monday's hideous display at Rutgers Stadium, tomorrow's get-your-frustrations-out RU game vs. Howard University, Derek Jeter's climb to the top of the Yankees' all-time hits list, and how badly the Mets are doing, but on this anniversary I just don't feel like it.

These Uniforms Should Take a Powder

Last night, the Yankees' seven-game winning streak came to an end at the SkyDump -- excuse me, Rogers Centre -- in Toronto, as longtime nemesis Roy Halladay pitched a one-hitter, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway because our pitching just didn't have it. Blue Jays 6, Yankees 0.

But the Chicago White Sox pounded the Red Sox, 12-2, so the Yankees' Magic Number to clinch the AL East was reduced anyway, to 21.

But the shocking thing was the Jays' uniforms. Never mind that policewoman that A-Rod crashed into on Thursday night: Do they not have fashion police in Canada?

What are the Blue Jays doing, bringing back those things as they do these days on home Friday nights? A, those are the road uniforms that the Blue Jays wore from 1977 to 1988, and they're wearing them at home!

B, there's a reason why teams don't wear powder-blue anymore: It's hideously ugly!

And C, the Jays stunk when they wore those togs! Okay, they did win the Division in 1985, but that also included their horrible 107-loss start in 1977, not getting to .500 until 1983, the 3-games-to-1 choke against Kansas City in the 1985 ALCS (and they can't explain it away with steroid cheating like another team I can mention), and the seven-game collapse at the end of 1987.

The following teams wore powder-blue road uniforms:

* Chicago White Sox: 1964 to 1968, and again 1971 to 1975. First team to stop, 1969, and second team to stop, 1976. Thank you, Bill Veeck. Of course, the replacement uniforms were laughable, too.

* Seattle Pilots/Milwaukee Brewers: 1969 to 1985.

* Montreal Expos: 1969 to 1991.

* Texas Rangers: 1972 to 1982.

* Kansas City Royals: 1973 to 1994, the last team to wear them regularly.

* Minnesota Twins: 1973 to 1986. They changed their uniforms in 1987 and won their first World Series. Coincidence? You be the judge.

* Philadelphia Phillies: 1973 to 1988.

* St. Louis Cardinals: 1973 to 1984.

* Chicago Cubs: 1976 to 1981.

* Seattle Mariners: 1977 to 1984.

* Toronto Blue Jays: 1977 to 1988.

* Atlanta Braves: 1980 to 1986.

"My name is Sam Tyler. I was in an accident, and I woke up in 1973. The baseball uniforms alone made me want to get back to my own time!"

In 1973, 8 of the 24 teams then in existence wore powder blue on the road. In 1980 and '81, when I was 10 and 11 years old, 11 of the 26 did. That's 42 percent -- or 42 percent over the limit.

Was it for luck? Hardly: The only teams to wear powder blue on the road and win a World Series were the '80 Phils, '82 Cards and '85 Royals. The only other Pennants were by the '80 Royals, '82 Brewers and '83 Phils.

The worst offenders of all were the Cubs: From 1978 to 1981, their road uniforms were powder blue with pinstripes. White pinstripes. It made the solid blue road jerseys they've worn on and off since look professional by comparison.

Powder blue road uniforms were worse than the "rainbow" jerseys of the Houston Astros, 1975 to 1986. Worse than the White Sox black-and-white, collared uniforms of 1976 to 1981. Worse than the "cornstalk" jerseys of the Braves from 1972 to 1979, with a bit of a variation in 1976. Worse than the bright orange jerseys sometimes worn by both the Baltimore Orioles and the San Francisco Giants. Worse than the mix-and-match black, gold and white clothes of the Pittsburgh Pirates "We Are Family" era. Yes, they were even worse than the bright red "blood-clot jerseys" with Greek-style lettering worn by the Cleveland Indians from 1975 to 1977.

Worse even than the brown and gold the San Diego Padres wore in varying forms from 1969 to 1984 that made Steve Garvey say that when he was in Los Angeles, he'd look at himself in the mirror, wearing his Dodger uniform and and he looked like an American flag; but when he looked at himself in the mirror wearing his Padre uniform, "I look like a taco." (Then again, there may never have been a baseball player who looked at himself in the mirror more often than Steve Garvey -- who is NOT my Padre!)

A blogger calling himself Andy the Saint, a Canadian giving the Blue Jays but not the Expos a pass, judged the Padres to be the worst offenders in the history of baseball fashion.

Even the Mets looked good by comparison. Maybe not their play, but their uniforms.

These were my formative years in becoming a baseball fan. And people wonder why I'm like this.

The weird thing is, in the psychedelic era, about 1966 to 1970 or so, baseball teams tended not to pander to the hippie demographic. Aside from the original White Sox powder blues, the only really whacked-out uniforms were those of the Indians and the Kansas City, then Oakland, Athletics. The Indians wore the white vests over red sleeves from 1963 to 1969, predating psychedelia, so you can't blame it on that; and the A's were owned by Charlie Finley, who would do anything to get more fans and publicity -- not that he cared what was going on across the Bay in San Francisco, unless he thought he could make money off it, and he didn't remake the A's uniforms so stoners would make their way out to the Oakland Coliseum.

The Montreal Expos debuted in 1969, with that weird logo, a red-white-and-blue M that was also a red e and a blue b, to mean "Montreal Expos Baseball" -- but Canada wasn't exactly a haven for hippies. Draft dodgers, maybe, but not hippies. With the witty, stylish Pierre Trudeau as Prime Minister, Canada was then more like a New World outpost of Swinging London, more Mod than Hippie. Oh, behave!

No, it was the dreaded Disco Period that was the bottoming-out of baseball fashion. Basketball and hockey fashion, too. To say nothing of the are-you-kidding-me uniforms of the World Football League; no wonder it folded after only a year and a half of play. (Neat piece of trivia: The announcement was made on October 21, 1975, just a few hours before Game 6 of the World Series and Carlton Fisk doing the Fenway Twist.)

The worst-looking moment in baseball history was probably the 1979 World Series. Orioles in orange, Pirates in mix-and-match black-gold-and-white with the 19th Century caps. It was hard to not like Willie Stargell, but those Stargell Stars he put on the caps, while a nice tribute to his teammates, made the fashion nightmare "go to 11." Add on the concrete ashtray that was Three Rivers Stadium, which had maybe the worst-looking artificial turf ever; and the grass at Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, still with yardlines on it and torn up by the Colts, plus that lighting system that always looked awful on TV, and you had the worst visuals ever for big baseball games.

I suppose the worst combination could have been if the White Sox had played the Expos -- hardly impossible, since both teams had some good sides in the Disco and New Wave periods -- but at least then, you would have had Comiskey Park, as well as the Montreal Olympic Stadium. A 1910 stadium against a flying saucer that sometimes has sporting events played inside.

Actually, the worst-looking possible moment, uniforms and stadiums combined, would have been an all-Canadian World Series, Expos against Jays, Le Stade Olympique against the Canadian National Exhibition Stadium. Exhibition Stadium was essentially a football stadium with a baseball field plunked down at one end -- and I don't mean "in the middle."

It was the one stadium where the baselines were totally uncovered but the bleachers, with Argonauts fans in mind, were fully shielded by a roof. The one significant scoreboard was way out in right field, what was an end zone in its CFL setup. The benches on the baselines were all aluminum. And when the wind blasted in off Lake Ontario... let me put it this way: When the SkyDome is an improvement, that should tell you how bad the old stadium was. The worst stadium in Major League Baseball history? The Olympic Stadium wasn't even the worst in Canada. So before you give the title of worst ever to Candlestick, or Cleveland Municipal Stadium, or the Vet, take a look at some pictures of the Big X sometime.

I love Canada, but from Jarry Park to Le Stade Olympique, from the Big X to Rogers Centre, they simply don't know how to do baseball!

I see young people walking around in old-time uniforms sold by sports-equipment and memorabilia stores. In baseball, it's called "Turn Back the Clock." In football, it's "Throwback Uniforms." In basketball, "Hardwood Classics." In hockey, "Heritage Classics."

But there's a reason why so many of these uniforms were abandoned, people. Think about it!

*

Days until Rutgers plays football again: 2, Monday afternoon. I'm only slightly into it at this point.

Days until Derek Jeter becomes the Yankees' all-time hit leader: 6, at 2,713, 8 short, going into today's game.

Days until East Brunswick plays football again: 6.

Days until Arsenal plays again: 7, at Manchester City, and I won't be able to watch it because I have tickets to the Rutgers game that same afternoon. And I still hate Interlulls.

Days until the final Yankees-Red Sox series of the 2009 regular season: 20, Friday, September 25, at Yankee Stadium II. At this rate, that night could also be the Division Title clincher.

Days until the Devils play hockey again: 28. Four weeks.

Days until the next East Brunswick-Old Bridge Thanksgiving clash: 82.

Days until the 2010 Winter Olympics begin: 160.

Days until the 2010 World Cup begins: 280.

Days until the World Cup Final: 311.

Days until Derek Jeter collects his 3,000th career hit: 616 (projected).

Days until the Rutgers-Army football game at Yankee Stadium: 798.

Senator Schilling? Don't Make Me Laugh

Yankees 10, Toronto Blue Jays 5. That's 7 in a row, still with the best record in baseball, and the Magic Number to clinch the Division is down to 22. But the Red Sox won again, so a Yanks-Sox ALCS showdown is still possible.

Alex Rodriguez hit his 577th career home run tonight, a screaming line drive down the left-field line at the Rogers Centre, formerly known as the SkyDome. It was much like the one Joe Carter hit to win the 1993 World Series for the Jays against the Philadelphia Phillies.

Remember? Mitch Williams has totally lost his control, and in the Phils' dugout, there's a pitcher hiding his eyes because he doesn't trust his teammate. His name? Curt Schilling.

"Curt is a horse every fifth day," said Ed Wade, then general manager of the Phils. "The other four days, he's a horse's ass."

Curt has thrown many a teammate -- or even Manny, a teammate -- overboard. (Or "under the bus," as you kids are saying these days.) It's always about Curt Schilling, and if the team didn't win, it was the other players, or the manager, or management, never his fault.

Few great players in sports history have alienated their own organizations as much as he has.

Now, he says he wants to run for the vacant U.S. Senate seat in Massachusetts, held for 47 years by a guy named Ted something.

Kennedy. Yeah, that's it.

Ted Kennedy was a big Red Sox fan. Well, everybody's got their flaws...

Maybe Ted was talking about the Red Sox when he said, "The work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die!"

Well, due to the steroid use of David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez -- and somebody test the blood on Schilling's sock! -- we now know that the work was fraudulent, the cause was false, the hope was shattered, and the dream remains unfulfilled since 1918.

Being a Red Sox fan made Ted Kennedy drink, Doris Kearns Goodwin write about tragic historical figures, the Farrelly Brothers make gross-out movies, and Stephen King write horror stories. It made Ben Franklin leave Boston to seek greener pastures... in Philadelphia!

Okay, the Red Sox haven't been around that long, but why do you think Bobby Kennedy moved to New York after leaving the Attorney General's post instead of back to Massachusetts?

Okay, to be fair, being Red Sox fans also made the Kennedys aware of the plight of the underdog. We should thank the Sox for that.

But Schilling wants Ted's Senate seat? If he thinks he can win it, then he's had more to drink than Ted ever did!

Schilling is a Republican. A serious hard-core conservative. And he wants to run in Massachusetts.

We all know he's self-absorbed. But I didn't think he was a masochist!

We should remind Crybaby Curt that, in 2006, the Republican Party of Pennsylvania nominated Lynn Swann for Governor. Yes, that Lynn Swann, the Hall of Fame receiver for the Pittsburgh Steelers. (By a weird coincidence, his middle name is Curtis.)

Swann was 54 at the time, which should have put him in his political prime. He is beloved. He has never thrown a teammate under the bus (Jerome Bettis or otherwise), and as far as anyone can tell he's completely clean. (He's also a graduate of Junipero Serra High School in San Mateo, California, which is also the alma mater of Barry Bonds and Tom Brady -- though as I said, Swann is believed to be completely clean, unlike those two. Also ex-Mets Jim Fregosi and Gregg Jeffries, and Swann's coach at USC, John Robinson.)

He's good-looking, he has a fine voice, he comes across like gangbusters on television. He sounds like a conservative, but he doesn't sound like a right-wing maniac -- more honey-tinged Mike Huckabee than fire-and-brimstone Rudy Giuliani. He's smart (Serra isn't just a sports factory, it's a very serious academic institution).

He's personable. His resume is as varied as Monday Night Football (playing and broadcasting) and Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. He's been a successful businessman -- conservatives love that. He stayed in the Pittsburgh area after his playing career was over -- Western Pennsylvanians love that. He'd never served in public office (which pleases the term-limits idiots and people who hate "Warshington Politicians"), unless you count chairing the President's Council on Physical Fitness. He had no apparent baggage of any kind, unless you count the fact that he was appointed to said Council by George W. Bush.

He should have been a superb candidate. Even people who don't like Republicans like Lynn Swann.

He lost, 60 percent to 40. Why? Was his Democratic opponent, incumbent Governor Ed Rendell, particularly beloved? Maybe from the Susquehanna River on east, but that's not why Swannie lost. No, he lost because the people of Pennsylvania didn't trust Republicans. Even Steeler fans who loved him as a football player and admired him as a businessman did not want a Republican Governor.

(The Penn GOP owes Swannie big-time. They should nominate him for Arlen Specter's Senate seat, but they won't. Though I do hear he's planning on another campaign for Governor next year.)

Schilling should keep in mind another example: Ernie Banks. He once ran for Board of Aldermen (City Council) in Chicago. Everybody loves Ernie (or so it was thought). He's Mr. Cub. He's had no scandal attached to his name. He ran as an independent, so that both Democratic Cub fans and Republican Cub fans could vote for him without dismissing him as a candidate for either party. Smart, right? He was a cinch to win, right?

Wrong, he finished 4th out of 5. Why? Because, being black, he thought he should run on the South Side. Smart? Not smart enough: The South Side is White Sox territory, and Pale Hose fans hate the Cubs and everyone associated with them, even Ernie Banks! How can anybody hate Ernie Banks? By being a White Sox fan, that's how -- or do you think Cub fans would've dumped Richard Daley as Mayor for Nellie Fox?

So, with the memories of Governors Bill Weld, Paul Cellucci, Jane (None Too) Swift and NittWitt Mitt Romney in mind, does anybody really think Massachusetts is going to trust a Republican -- especially for the seat of Ted Kennedy?

Crybaby Curt should keep this in mind: In Massachusetts, they love the Red Sox, but they may not love this particular Red Sock (even with his red sock), and they certainly don't love Republicans. Especially if it's Joe Kennedy, Bobby's son and Ted's nephew who once served in the House, who goes for it: It's probably his to say, "Yes, I want it" until he says, "No, I don't want it." (Ultimately, I think he'll turn it down, and Congressman Ed Markey, believed to be the favorite for John Kerry's seat had the nation wised up and thrown Bush overboard in 2004, will run for it and win it.)

Maybe the fans who used to honor Carl Yastrzemski with "YAZ FOR MAYOR" signs meant it, and maybe Bobby Orr could've been elected to serve in the Senate alongside Ted Kennedy, and maybe Larry Bird could've been elected Governor.

But Curt Schilling? If he wins Ted's seat, I'll wear a Red Sox cap for the rest of the 2010 season!

I'd have to wash my hair about four times a day... and take Pepto-Bismol for wanting to throw up 12 times a day...

I think I'm safe. And so is Ted's Senate seat. As his brother Jack said when he received figures saying that more people went to the opera than to Major League Baseball games in 1960, "I think both baseball and the country will endure."

Football Is Upon Us? Too Soon!

My sister, after 30 years of not paying much attention to sports, has decided to pick a favorite football team. And by "football," I mean FOOTBALL.

Her company's office has season tickets to the New York Jets, and she likes green, so now she roots for the J-E-T-S-Jets-Jets-Jets.

It has now been 40 years since the Jets won their one and only Super Bowl -- 41 if you count the season about to start. Wow, 40 years in the wilderness? Funny, my sister doesn't look Jewish!

Fortunately, they now have Mark Sanchez as their quarterback, not that vacillating fossil who plays for the Minnesota Vikings.

Here's what I told my sister after she e-mailed me her choice of the Jets:

<< You may regret this. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow...

Is this about availability of tickets to you? That would be understandable.

Is this about new quarterback Mark Sanchez being attractive? Doesn't matter if he can't play, although it looks like he can.

Is this about the green-and-white uniforms, which EBHS (East Brunswick High School, our alma mater) has now copied right down to the helmets? Not a good reason to root for a team.

Is this about their history? Uh, no, even the Israelites had only 40 years in the wilderness.

Is this about the nice new stadium? Not yet, they've still got one year left in the tin can. Regardless of the other team's name being on it, Giants Stadium is a terrible facility, bad parking situation, dark concourses and weak food.

Is this about pissing off some Giants fans you know? Now that, I would understand completely!

Is this about getting in on the ground floor, watching a bad team become good and saying you were there when they were crap, so you have the right to celebrate when they... who am I kidding, this is the Jets we're talking about!

Then again, what do I know? My NFL team is the Philadelphia Eagles, and they haven't gone all the way since Eisenhower was President! And they just, essentially, traded their best defensive player of the last 15 years for Michael Vick. Oy... >>

She said it was because of the free tickets, the colors, that she didn't like the Giants, and because, while (like me) she really likes the city of Philadelphia, she doesn't want to root for a team with Vick (even with the same green & white color scheme).

Well, she's made her choice. I hope it turns out to be easier on her than it's been on most Jet fans these last 40 years.

*

I can't believe we're about to start the college football season. I'm still big-time in baseball mode. But then, we are in September. And the tickets are already bought. Now, it's just a matter of fighting the traffic on Route 18 and River Road.

Rutgers starts the season this coming Monday afternoon, Labor Day, at home at a Rutgers Stadium newly expanded to 52,000 seats (up from the old stadium's 23,000 and the "new" stadium's 41,500), against the University of Cincinnati.

Hard to believe it's so soon. Harder still to believe that a lot of people think that this opening game may decide the Big East Conference Title!

This is a team that, regardless of how good either team has been, has given RU trouble over the years.

Come on you Scarlet Knights! Trap the Bearcats!

*

Dear Old Alma Mater opens the season a week from Friday, on the ominous date of September 11. We play at Woodbridge, one of our oldest opponents. They've been playing football since 1920, and we've been playing them since 1963, our third season of play. Two more seasons, and we'll be at our 50th Anniversary. Another one for the Hard To Believe File, because when I got there in 1984 we were considered a young school, and Woodbridge was already an old one!

How good will EB be? Who knows. Head Coach Marcus Borden is like a box of Cracker Jacks: You think you know what you're going to get, but there's always a surprise.

I just hope he doesn't do any more running on 3rd-and-18. Unless you've got Barry Sanders in your backfield, you just don't do that. No wonder he spends so much time praying in the locker room!

*

As of right now, the Yankees are on a five-game winning streak, having swept the Chicago White Sox at home and taken the first two of a series with the Orioles in Baltimore, hitting 5 home runs last night. They are 6 1/2 games up on the Red Sox -- and the difference is that they've taken 6 of the last 7 with the Sox, after the Sox took the 1st 8 matchups of the season.

The Yankees' Magic Number to clinch the Division is 25. The Sox still lead the Wild Card race though, but I'm torn as to whether to hope they miss the Playoffs completely or force us to face them in the ALCS -- to settle this bullshit for once and for all!

The Mets? Who's kidding who. Their Tragic Number to be eliminated from Playoff contention is 17. Even "The Great Johan Santana" is out for the season. Again, "the best pitcher in baseball" made no difference to them.

*

Days until Rutgers plays football again: 5.

Days until Derek Jeter becomes the Yankees' all-time hit leader: 8 (projected -- I moved this one up a bit to reflect the tear he's on).

Days until East Brunswick plays football again: 9.

Days until Arsenal plays again: 10. I hate Interlulls. Especially since the U.S. team has no chance at winning the World Cup -- and Poland, whom I might watch on TV taking on Norther Ireland on Saturday, may not even get into it!

Days until the final Yankees-Red Sox series of the 2009 regular season: 23, Friday, September 25, at Yankee Stadium II. At this rate, that night could also be the Division Title clincher.

Days until the Devils play hockey again: 31. One month! Hockey? I'm not even ready for football yet!

Days until the next East Brunswick-Old Bridge Thanksgiving clash: 85. A shade over 12 weeks until we play the Purple Bastards! Cheer up, Bobby D, oh what can it mean to a... Sad Purple Bastard and a... shit football team! (OB coach Bob DeMarco's a decent guy, but I hate that team about as much as I hate the Mets, Red Sox and Rangers.)

Days until the 2010 Winter Olympics begin: 163.

Days until the 2010 World Cup begins: 283.

Days until the World Cup Final: 314.

Days until Derek Jeter collects his 3,000th career hit: 619 (projected).

Days until the Rutgers-Army football game at Yankee Stadium: 801.

My Joba Rules

The Chicago White Sox have a lot of talent, but they're struggling at the moment. You never know when manager Ozzie Guillen is going to be a mad genius, or just a madman. And they just fell in 3 terrible-looking games at Yankee Stadium II.

That is, the games were terrible -- unless you're a Yankee Fan. As I am.

Friday night, Robinson Cano hits a walkoff home run. Very good. Saturday afternoon, Sergio Mitre and Chad Gaudin combine on a one-hitter, and the bats do their job, 10-0. Very good. Sunday afternoon, a tight 3-2 game becomes an 8-2 game in the 7th, including Mark "the Eyes" Teixeira channeling his inner Maurice Richard (ever see a picture of the Rocket -- and I don't mean Roger Clemens -- with the puck? Scary guy) "sending a Teix message" as John Sterling would say, on the way to an 8-3 win. Wiping out the White Sox. Sweeping the ChiSox. Pounding the Pale Hose.

I have no hatred for the White variety of Sox, but as Tim Robbins (sadly, a Met fan) would say, "I love winnin', man, I fuckin' love winnin'. Ya hear what I'm sayin'? It's, like, better than losin'!"

But one thing bothers me a great deal about yesterday's game. Joba Chamberlain was scheduled to start, and, for 3 innings, he was fine. But, once again, "The Joba Rules" were changed in order to baby him -- I mean, protect him, and Joe Girardi took him out. His idea? Someone else's? Does it matter?

I'm thisclose to saying the Yankees should get rid of Joba. Not because he can't get the job done, but because they won't let him get the job done. What good is a starting pitcher if you're only going to throw him for 3 innings? What kind of strategy is that?

Even Billy Martin never tried a stunt like that! Putting a pitcher 7th in the batting order as a DH? Check. (1988 -- I was there, and it worked, Rick Rhoden hit a sac fly in a Yank win over Baltimore.) A good-fielding pitcher as an emergency outfielder? Check. (Ron Guidry in the pine-tar replay in '83. I wasn't there for that one.) Best home-run hitter of the era on the bench until a righthanded reliever comes in and then send him in as a pinch-hitter? Check. ('77 Pennant-clincher in Kansas City, Billy didn't want to risk Reggie against lefty Paul Splittorff, but Reggie hit an RBI single off Doug Bird.)

It was Lou Piniella rather than Billy who put Don Mattingly in at 3rd base in an injury-induced emergency in Seattle in '86 -- and, unlike the Yankees when Curt Schilling had that ankle injury in the '04 ALCS, the Mariners bunted on Mattingly! And it didn't work: I was watching it on TV, and he spun around and fielded it just fine. Let's see Keith Hernandez, also a lefty thrower, try that! (And the Yanks came from 12-5 down to win the thing, 13-12! It was a late night.)

But this... Joba only pitches 3 innings? For what? Saving his arm? Isn't that like giving a car a "jackrabbit start"? It's one thing if you take your starting pitcher out that early because he's getting shelled. Guys get knocked out of the box. From time to time, it happens. But Joba he was pitching fine!

Yankee management -- and I mean the Steinbrenner sons, Gene Michael, Brian Cashman and whoever else makes these decisions -- has got to decide what to do with Joba. Either make him a real starter, and ask him to throw 6 to 9 innings every start, never mind how many pitches or innings he throws, just do the best you can on that day; or make him a reliever; or trade him to someone who thinks he can help them, and get someone that you think might be useful in return. But pick one method of using him and stick with it, so he (and everyone else) knows what the role will be.

Because, right now, the Yankees are messing up a very talented but very emotional kid who could still turn out to be one of the defining pitchers of the 2010s. Either use him as a real starter, or use him as a reliever, or get rid of him! Fish or cut bait! Maybe some other team will do him some good, but, right now, the Yankees are doing him no favors!

That's my "Joba Rules": Pick one set of rules and stick with it!

Mike Dean: Worst Sports Official On the Planet

I'm glad the Yankees have won their last 2 games with an extra-inning walkoff homer by Robinson Cano and a brilliant combined one-hitter by Sergio Mitre and Chad Gaudin, with 10 runs of support.

But I have to rant about soccer for a moment. Or, if you prefer, "football."  Or "futbol."

It is just me, or does the bald head, the bare legs, the authoritarian manner and the just not giving a damn who gets hurt so long as he gets what he wants make anyone else think Mike Dean resembles Vladimir Putin?

Dean is a referee -- I'm being very, very loose with the language here -- in the English Premier League, the football league that is the most popular sports league on the planet. He's bald, he's blind, the worst official's kind.

And in a game between two of the Premiership's top four teams, Arsenal (for whom I root) and Manchester United (whom every Earthling with any taste loathes to an exceeding degree), at Old Trafford, Man U's ground where anyone in a home red shirt has never committed a foul, Dean handed the game to Man U in the most corrupt example of refereeing I've seen in my (admittedly brief) football-watching experience.

It was 1-0 to The Arsenal in the 2nd half, following a nice goal by the little Russian beast, Andrey Arshavin, when Wayne Rooney, a.k.a. Wooney, a.k.a. The Boy, a.k.a. Shrek, charged the box, and Arsenal goalkeeper Manuel Almunia reached for the ball to stop it.

It was a clean stop. And then Rooney made an obvious dive. And every Man U fan on the planet -- including those 12 or 14 who actually live in the City of Manchester -- knows it was a dive.

Dean called a foul on Almunia, and gave Rooney a penalty shot, which, of course, he converted. 1-1.

Abou Diaby literally made a boneheaded play, heading the ball into his own net to make it 2-1 ManUre. There's 3,519 miles between my perch here in Central Jersey and Arsenal's home ground at Ashburton Grove, and Diaby should be grateful for every one of them, because I wanted to end his life with my bare hands.

Having had 11 hours or so to calm down, I now only want to see him sold to another club. Any other club. Sell the bum to Tottenham if they'll take him. Preferably, a club far, far away. Melbourne Victory or something. (Just my luck, it'll end up being Red Bull New York. At least then, the distance between us will be only a few hundred feet, and I'll be able to tell the bum what I think of him in person.)

(UPDATE: Arsenal kept Diaby until 2015, ignoring his idiotic play and his constant injuries. He ended up at French club Olympique de Marseille.)

When Man U leads after 90 minutes, the refs will give about 12 seconds of injury time. When they are trailing, it's usually more like an hour and a half. In "honor" of their manager, Sir Alex Ferguson (knighted for having led Man U to a cheated-to Treble in 1999), this concept is known throughout the world as "Fergie Time."

But with Man U leading 2-1 at the end, 5 minutes were awarded. And Arsenal, who had so thoroughly dominated until the Rooney dive but had played like crap ever since, continued to play like crap in the added time.

But in the 95th minute, Robin van Persie, who has been total garbage so far this season despite being one of my favorite players last season, scored. 2-2, and Arsenal salvage a point they don't really deserve, but which Man U deserved even less, certainly not the 3 points they got for victory.

But Dean's seeing-eye dog barked, and, having been so properly signaled, Dean waved off the goal because William Gallas was offside. The hell he was.

(Ironically, on the subway on the way to the place where I watched the game, there was a blind man with a guide dog. But he wasn't a sports official. He would've been better at it than Dean.)

Arsene Wenger, like Joe Torre, hardly ever betrays emotion. He's not a Man of a Thousand Faces, he's a Man of One Face. Also like Torre, he tends to play hunches that usually work shockingly well, but sometimes blow up in his one face. And, also like Torre, he hardly ever argues with officials. This time, he told Dean off, and rightly so. About time his players see that he has their back when they've been stabbed therein by a lying bastard of a referee.

Those of you from England, who may have stumbled upon this blog by accident, thinking it is regularly about the game you call football, please forgive a baseball reference, but...

Mike Dean makes me think of Bruce Froemming. They don't look anything alike, but it doesn't matter. Thank God this blind lunkhead is now retired, but Froemming was the longest-serving and worst umpire in the game's history, 37 years.

In 1972, Milt Pappas of the Chicago Cubs was one out away from a perfect game -- no baserunners allowed. There was a three balls, two strikes count on the last batter, and Pappas put a pitch on the outside corner. Strike three, perfect game, immortality. Except Froemming said it was outside the strike zone, ball four, batter goes to first base. Pappas managed to get the next batter out to save the no-hitter, but the very rare and far greater accomplishment eluded him.

After the game, Pappas, a pretty good pitcher who won over 200 games in his career (but gets tarred as the man the Cincinnati Reds got in sending Hall-of-Famer Frank Robinson to the Baltimore Orioles) actually appealed to Froemming's ego. He said, "Bruce, do you know how many umpires have called a perfect game? You could have been one of them!"

Froemming: "Milt, if I'd called that pitch a strike, I never would have been able to live with myself."

Pappas: "How do you live with yourself with all the other lousy calls you make?"

This bum umpired for another 35 years. He even did a McDonald's commercial. If he were an English ref, we'd be telling him he ate all the pies.

Dean also officiated last year's match between Arsenal and arch-rival Tottenham Hotspur, sending off Emmanuel Eboue (which I understand based on Eboue's play and personality, but it was still a questionable call) and leaving an already injury-riddled Arsenal team to play 10 vs. 11 for what turned out to be, counting injury time, a full 60 minutes. Begging the question, how many Spurs does it take to beat 10 Arsenal? Answer: At least 13, because 12 wasn't enough: Final score, 0-0.

If there is a worse official on the planet, in any sport, than Mike Dean, I'll never believe it. Tim Tschida in baseball? Ed Hochuli in football? Any referee in a Devils-Rangers hockey game? Forget it: Dean is the worst, and I say this having only rooted for the team he screwed yesterday for a little more than a year.

Top 10 False Saviors in New York Sports

Wow, that Johan Santana has really made a difference for the Mets, hasn't he?

I saw a picture of him wearing a leather jacket that looks like it was ripped off of "Life On Mars."

"My name is Sam Tyler. I was in an accident, and I woke up in 1973. The Mets are winning the Pennant, which makes me feel like I'm on a different planet."

Met fans were so sure that Santana was going to make the difference between the September 2007 disaster and the World Series. In 2 seasons, the Mets have had another September collapse leading to a regular-season finale humiliation, and a train wreck of a season with all kinds of injuries, including bone chips that have now ended the season of The Great Johan Santana.

Then there's Francisco Rodriguez, a.k.a. Frankie, a.k.a. K-Rod. The author of the blog "The Musings and Prophecies of Metstradamus" -- good title and usually well-written, though being a Met fan is clearly a sign of, to put it politely, compromised faculties -- has written:

I'm starting to get the feeling that Frankie Rodriguez is the Jamie Lee Curtis of the group ... the last one standing after Michael Myers has killed everyone else, while Billy Wagner is the guy who you thought died in the first half hour of the film, only to be that guy who finally drives a stake into the psychopath's heart when he's just about to kill Frankie, then tear both of his hamstrings.

He's referring to Michael Myers, the lead of the Halloween horror films -- not the comedian who starred in the Wayne's World segments of Saturday Night Live and the Austin Powers films. Nor the "submarine" lefthander who helped the Red Sox win a title * and then didn't help the Yankees much.

Shows what you know, Metstradamus: Jamie Lee Curtis is someone I wouldn't mind seeing in any clothes, or none at all -- and she's 50! By contrast, Francisco Rodriguez doesn't look good no matter what he wears!

You'd have to be a psycho to put up with the Mets -- and speaking of Psycho, it starred Jamie Lee's mother, the late great Janet Leigh, and she was something, too. Check her out in full blazing color in Scaramouche: Let's just say that French Revolution-era gowns were made for women like her. (Jamie Lee's father, and Janet's ex-husband, was actor Tony Curtis.)

The Mets, of course, have Susan Sarandon, who still looks great at 63... but the way we know she's a great actress is that anyone who watches the Mets as long as she has, and still "believes in the Church of Baseball" has got to be lying!

However, neither Johan Santana nor Francisco Rodriguez makes the following list. Nor do David Wright, Jose Reyes, Carlos Beltran or Alex Rodriguez -- for the simple reason that they are still active, and their stories are not yet complete, therefore they have not yet fully failed.

But there are always "false saviors" in sports, and the New York Tri-State Area has had a few of them. And the effect can be devastating.

If you doubt this, imagine if the Vancouver Canucks had won Game 7 of the 1994 Stanley Cup Finals, and Mark Messier eventually left the Rangers without winning a Stanley Cup. Instead of being the most beloved Ranger of all time, he would be the most hated.

There are no Giants, Islanders or Devils on this list. The Giants have never really had a guy who was given big hype when he arrived and failed to deliver. The Devils have been similarly lucky in this particular regard. And the Islanders haven't really tried to open the vault to get a big star capable of turning the franchise around, regardless of success or failure.

UPDATE: By 2013, Ilya Kovalchuk became the 1st such player for the Devils; and Santana, Wright and Reyes all made themselves fully eligible for this list.

Top 10 False Saviors in New York Sports

10. Bobby Bonds. George Steinbrenner actually traded Bobby Murcer, already one of the most popular Yankees ever, to get him from the San Francisco Giants. Now, in late 1974, being traded even-up for Bobby Bonds was not an insult.

Far from it: He was a great combination of power and speed, hitting 331 career home runs and stealing 461 bases. One season, he missed becoming the 1st player ever to have 40 homers and 40 steals in a single season by just 1 one homer. And when you consider he played the 1st half of his career in windswept Candlestick Park, and was continually injured for much of the 2nd half of his career, you're looking at a player who could have made the Hall of Fame if things had broken right for him.

But his 1975 season was a bit of a disappointment. He didn't really fit in with New York, the pressure on him to be "the next Yankee superstar" was immense, and his lefty swing, while ideal for the short right-field porch at Yankee Stadium, was less effective in the symmetrical, windy Shea Stadium the Yanks had to use for 1 more season while The Stadium was being renovated.

On December 11, 1975, the Yanks sent Bonds to the California Angels for outfielder Mickey Rivers and pitcher Ed Figueroa -- and, on the same day, also sent pitcher Doc Medich to the Pittsburgh Pirates for pitcher Dock Ellis and a rookie second baseman named Willie Randolph. It may have been the greatest day of trading in Yankee history. Bonds would go on to excel while healthy, but be hurt so much that he became one of the most-traded players ever.

Today, the late Bobby Bonds is best remembered as the father of Barry Bonds. Which is a shame, and not because of anything Barry has done, good or bad: Bobby was a really good player who didn't get an even break. Which is why I put him at Number 10: He doesn't really deserve it. But the hype that went along with him means he has to be on this list.

9. Marvin Webster. Known as "the Human Eraser" for his ability to block shots ("erasing" points from the board), he helped get the Denver Nuggets to the 1976 ABA Finals and the Seattle SuperSonics to the 1978 NBA Finals. Then the Knicks got him. On the cover of their October 16, 1978 issue, Sports Illustrated asked a big question.

That the answer turned out to be "No, not by a long shot" is hardly his fault. But that cover made quite an impression. Maybe he got hit by The Dreaded SI Cover Jinx. Sadly, both Marvin and his son, Marvin Jr., who briefly played at Temple, died of heart problems.

8. Phil Esposito. "The Trade" meant bringing one of the greatest scorers and team leaders in hockey history to the Rangers, but it also meant sending 2 other Hall-of-Famers, Jean Ratelle and Brad Park, to the Boston Bruins, at the time still considered the Rangers' arch-rivals -- although the Islanders had just embarrassed the Rangers in the 1975 Playoffs, and the Bruins haven't really been a Ranger rival since.

Espo certainly had quite a bit left, and his talent and presence helped to make the Rangers marketable again, which was particularly important after the disasters (plural) of calendar year 1975, including the rise of the Islanders which eventually led to 4 straight Stanley Cups.

As the Rangers' Sasson ad campaign proved,

being marketable and knowing how to market yourself

are 2 very different skills.

Espo led the Rangers to the 1979 Cup Finals, beating the Isles in the Semis, before losing the Finals to the Montreal Canadiens. This was a very big deal, as the Rangers had been to just 2 Finals in the preceding 29 years.

Ultimately, though, Espo couldn't get the Rangers over the hump, either as a player, a head coach or a general manager. He was an honorable failure in New York, but the fact remains that he failed. And that Sasson jeans commercial... All he did for the Bruins, all he did to make the Rangers relevant again, saving Team Canada in the 1972 Summit Series... Sorry, Phil, but that commercial will live forever.

7. Ed O'Bannon. He led UCLA to the 1995 National Championship, their only title without John Wooden as coach. The Nets drafted him, needing something big after collapsing from a team that had been pretty good in '92, '93 and '94 but was now ridden with dissension and injuries. How much of a risk could it be?

Let's just say that, of all the Nets' blown draft picks, this was the biggest bust when you consider performance divided by hype. Even the late Yinka Dare, a.k.a. the Three-Minute Egg, wasn't as bad from that perspective.

6. Rickey Henderson. The Yankees picked him up for the 1985 season, and he shattered team stolen base records, hit a few big home runs, and solidified his reputation as the greatest leadoff hitter of all time. Unfortunately, he also failed to hit in several key situations, his "snatch catch" was bad enough when it worked and didn't work often enough to notice, and was, quite possibly, the biggest egomaniac in the history of sports.

The Yankees got rid of him in 1989, and when you rattle off the names of the Hall-of-Famers who played for the Yankees, it's easy to forget that Rickey was one of them. In fact, I recommend forgetting it. Essentially, Rickey did nothing for the Yankees, and, despite some impressive stats, the Rickey-in-Pinstripes experience was a total waste. If he'd cared more about the Yankees than about Rickey, 2 games out in '85, 5 1/2 out in '86, 9 out in '87, and 3 1/2 out in '88, might've been a very different story.

5. Jaromir Jagr. If I were making this list for Washington, D.C. -- or even the Baltimore-Washington corridor combined -- "Dude Looks Like a Lady" might top the list. I think the reason he stayed so thin is that the only thing he ate as a Ranger was the Dolan family's money. He may have set a Ranger team record with 54 goals in 2006, but his Cup seasons with the Pittsburgh Penguins seemed like a lifetime ago.

He's scored 646 goals in his NHL career -- and, at 37, it might not be over yet -- but is there any other player in the 500 Goals Club, let alone with as many or more than Jagr, who is more lightly regarded?

UPDATE: Jagr played his last NHL game on New Year's Eve, December 31, 2017, for the Calgary Flames. He scored 766 goals in NHL regular-season play, at the time more than any player except Wayne Gretzky and Gordie Howe. He played for 9 different teams, including the Rangers and the Devils, meaning he flopped for 2 local teams, which is rare. After back-to-back Cups with the Pittsburgh Penguins in 1991 and 1992, he reached the Stanley Cup Finals once, with the 2013 Boston Bruins. That 19-year gap between Finals appearances is a record.

4. Randy Johnson and Roger Clemens. I lump these 2 together -- I really wish I could lump them together -- because of the hype they brought to my team, and the results thereof.

When Johnson pitched for Seattle in the 1995 Division Series, he made the difference for the Mariners, every bit as much as Ken Griffey, Edgar Martinez or Tino Martinez. When he pitched for Arizona in the 2001 World Series, he saved the Diamondbacks' skins and beat the Yankees. Getting him seemed like a great idea, the old idea of, "Even if he does nothing for us, he won't be doing anything to us."

But the Big Unit was a big flop here. He put together the 2 most useless 17-win seasons any Yankee pitcher has ever had. He was moody at best, nasty at worst, and his injuries and his collapses in Game 3 of the Division Series of both 2005 and 2006 were unacceptable.

That he has gone on to pitch elsewhere, and well, and join the 300 Wins Clubs, and surpass Clemens to be 2nd on the all-time strikeout list makes it even sicker.

As for Clemens, it seems like an odd thing to say, calling him a "false savior" after what he did for the Yankees from 1999 to 2003. Ah, but I think you've guessed what I'm really talking about here. This list is not just about failure, it's about performance divided by hype. Remember the hype when he returned to the Yankees in 2007? Making the announcement at the 7th-inning stretch? Suzyn Waldman reacting to it as if it was the Summer of '64 and she'd just been kissed by a Beatle?

And the results? Well, let's just say that Tom Glavine wasn't the only 300-game winner to end his New York days on an incredibly sour note that season. As Yogi Berra might say, the good news is that Roger's meltdown happened in the Playoffs... but the bad news is that Roger's meltdown happened in the Playoffs. And he's never pitched in the major leagues again. Nor should he.

If I never saw either the Big Unit or the Rocket again, I could live with it.

3. Pedro Martinez. If you believe Met fans, signing the Fenway Punk was the message that was sent to the rest of baseball that the Mets were serious about trying to win again, so come on and sign with the Mets!

It didn't work out, largely because Pedro kept getting hurt. And now, the Punk is doing a good job with the Philadelphia Phillies, who have become the Mets' rivals in ways the Atlanta Braves could never truly be.

Isn't that just like a player, to be great both before and after being a Met, but not during? Then again, the 1993 Mets should have taught you that: Eddie Murray, Bobby Bonilla, Vince Coleman, Jeff Kent, Tony Fernandez, Jeromy Burnitz. I almost made them a collective entry on this list.

2. Brett Favre. The Jets have been unlucky in many areas, but they'd never really had a false savior until Brett Favre came along last year, at age 38. Brett Favre got them to 8-3 in 2008, and it looked like they might win the AFC East and play a January game or two "at home" at the Meadowlands. Final record, 9-7, and Brett Favre was largely responsible.

Brett Favre got hurt. Brett Favre was totally useless. Brett Favre threw a season away. Make no mistake, Brett Favre should have retired after the previous season when he had the chance.

Brett Favre is no longer the Jets' problem. And getting Brett Favre might not turn out to be such a disaster: After all, if Mark Sanchez turns out to be a great pro quarterback, then it would be a direct result of the spectacularly failed Brett Favre experiment: It would make Brett Favre the Jets' Ken Phelps, and Sanchez the Jets' Paul O'Neill.

UPDATE: Sanchez did not turn out to be a great quarterback. And, in 2023, the Jets repeated their mistake, signing Brett Favre's replacement in Green Bay, Aaron Rodgers, then 39. That didn't work out, either.

Who's the biggest false savior in New York sports history? It's not Brett Favre, he whose name always seems to be used in full. No, there can be only one.

1. Patrick Ewing. When NBA Commissioner David Stern rigged the 1st-ever NBA Draft Lottery in 1985 to ensure that New York got the 1st pick -- excuse me, when Mr. Stern announced that the Knicks had won the 1st pick -- everyone knew the Knicks were going to take the most celebrated college basketball player of the first half of the 1980s, Patrick Ewing.

Ewing was the 7-foot center who had taken Georgetown University of Washington, D.C. to 3 National Championship Games -- but, in some unfortunate foreshadowing, had won only 1, losing the other 2 by 2 points each.

The question that Knick fans, desperate for a winner after a season that made the 2009 Mets look like the picture of health by comparison (in particular the spectacular knee injury to the great hope that had been Bernard King, as well as the difficulties of the aforementioned Marvin Webster), were asking at the time was not, "Will Patrick Ewing lead the Knicks to an NBA Title?" It was "How many NBA Titles will Patrick Ewing lead the Knicks to?"

Looking at this cover now, there are 2 questions:

1. "How could they have been so gullible?" And

2. "Wait, you mean, back then, shorts were actually short?"

At that moment, Michael Jordan, whose jumper had provided the winning margin over Ewing's Hoyas in the 1982 title game, had completed a not-especially-interesting rookie year for the Chicago Bulls. And Hakeem Olajuwon, who had lost 3 Final Four appearances with the University of Houston, including being the one team the Hoyas could beat in the Final, in 1984, had just finished his rookie year with the Houston Rockets. Isiah Thomas, who ended up as no friend of Knick fans, had finished his 3rd year with the Detroit Pistons, and was impressive, but the team results just weren't there yet.

No one yet knew that the player for a big-market team that would lift the NBA to new heights was going to be Jordan of Chicago -- although Earvin "Magic" Johnson of Los Angeles was already that guy, but Stern didn't grasp that. He thought it was going to be Ewing, and that it had to be in New York.

If I had told you at that moment that Jordan, Olajuwon and Thomas would, between them, play on 10 NBA Championship teams, and that Ewing would play on exactly none of them, you'd ask me what I was smoking. But I would have been right.

And it's not just that the Knicks as a team, and that Ewing as an individual, frequently choked. It's that Ewing tended to make predictions about the Knicks winning it all. It worked for Joe Namath and the Jets in January 1969. It worked for Mark Messier and the Rangers in May 1994. It never worked for Ewing and the Knickleheads. And, perhaps most damning of all, the Knicks reached their 2nd NBA Finals appearance of the Ewing era (in 1999, following 1994) with Ewing injured and unable to contribute.

You can say that the Knicks kept running into Jordan and the Bulls. That's a fair argument. But before those Bulls, nearly every great team had a center capable of dominating a game. The Bulls of 1991, '92 and '93 had at center... Bill Cartwright. The same Bill Cartwright who Ewing replaced as Knick center, because Cartwright wasn't good enough. The Knicks thought they could get rid of Cartwright once they brought in their big Hoss, but it was the Bulls who ended up with the bonanza.

The Bulls of '96, '97 and '98 had at center... Luc Longley. Like Cartwright, the big Australian was a good center, a solid team player and a decent man. But was anyone really intimidated by Cartwright or Longley? Yeah, apparently, one guy was: Patrick Ewing. The 1990s Bulls proved you could win an NBA Title without having a dominating center, even if your opponents did have a hyped-up center.

There are many reasons that the New York Knickerbockers have fallen short every season since 1973. (The Curse of Sam Tyler, maybe?) But for nearly half of that time, they put their eggs in the basket with the Number 33 on it. The hype was immeasurable. The results were miniscule. Patrick Ewing is the biggest, falsest false savior in New York sports history.

That doesn't make him a bad person -- I leave it to the dancers at Scores who knew how much he tipped to decide that -- but it does make him, as far as his professional basketball career is concerned, a failure. An expensive one, and not just in terms of the Dolan family's money.