Cruds alert*

 (*Pittsburgh Pirates sold separately).

Checked out the latest MLB standings yesterday, and I'll be bumfuzzled. We're 12 days into May, and the Chicago What Sox are in the thick of a pennant race.

OK, so it's only a divisional race, and it's only the AL Central, the used car lot of divisions. And the What Sox are still two games under .500 at 19-21.

But that puts them second in the division, just 1.5 games behind Cleveland. And 19-21 is way better than their record on this date a year ago, which was 12-29.

So, yeah. This Cruds Alert is not about cruds, but who aren't right now.

That would include the Homeless A's, who are playing in Sacramento these days but aren't allowed to tell anyone. That's why they're only identified as "Athletics" in the standings.

But big deal, because "Athletics" are leading the AL West by two whole games.

Yeah, they're only 21-19, and everyone else in the division is underwater. Which makes the AL West the slightly newer used car lot just down from the other used car lot.

But, still. It's May 12, and they're No. 1! Huzzah!

"So who are the actual Cruds these days, Mr. Blob?" you're saying now.

(OK, so you're not. Just employing what we writers like to call a "literary device". Also known as "cheating.")

Anyway, the actual Cruds might still be the Colorado Rockheads, who astonished all of baseball with their epic Cruddiness a year ago. They're dead last in the NL West, 8.5 games behind front-running San Diego. At 16-25, they're the worst team in baseball not named the New York Mutts, er, Mets.

And yet ...

And yet, the Mutts-er-Mets ARE a game worse. And the Rockheads are waaay better than they were a year ago on this date, when they were 7-34 after losing to the Texas Rangers. And right now they're just a game out of next-to-last in the division, nipping at the heels of the San Francisco Giants.

So, you see? Even in Crudsville, hope springs eternal.

Well ... maybe not eternal. But you get the gist.

By their own petard ...

 ... hoist.

That sums up the Indiana Pacers' weekend, pretty much.

When last seen they were losing Tyrese Haliburton to an exploding Achilles heel in Game 7 of the NBA Finals, and then losing Haliburton and everything else for the 2025-26 season. With Halliburton gone, the mojo was gone, and their elevator was Down Only, carrying them to a 19-63 record.

Which put them in the draft lottery.

Which they decided to put up for grabs for a fistful of magic beans.

OK, so it was Los Angeles Clippers center Ivica Zubac. Who's kinda good -- better than magic beans, anyway -- but they also gave up Bennedict Mathurin for him, which seemed an awful lot to pay when you add the possibly-sacrificing-a-lottery-pick factor.

"Hey, what could happen?" the Pacers' brain trust must have said.

Of course, that was when they figured they had a better-than-even shot at that lottery pick.

The deal was this: All the Pacers had to do was get their ping-pong ball/envelope pulled in the top four, and they'd hang onto the pick. If their number was called before that -- fifth or lower -- the Clippers would get the pick.

Well, you know what happened. The lottery got down to No. 5, and, hey, look: It's your Indiana Pacers!

Which of course meant the Clips got the pick, and the Pacers got ... clipped.

Lots of folks in Pacers Nation were saying it wasn't right, it wasn't fair, not after a 19-63 season that had to be worth ... well, something. But, nah. They played their way into the lottery, and then they got zippo. 

No lottery pick, which means no first-round pick. They were out, finished at Faber.

"Why do we have such lousy luck?" Pacers Nation presumably wailed.

To be immediately followed by:

"Why is our front office so dumb?"

Because, listen, bemoan cruel fate all you want, but the Pacers are squarely at fault for what happened last weekend. Who gambles with a lottery pick? No one. Or, at least, no one with the sense God gave floor wax. 

And surely not when the prize is Ivica Zubac and not, say, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

That's no knock on Zubac, understand. But his game wasn't worth a lottery pick.

Almost compels you to ask what Pacers president Kevin Pritchard 'n' them were thinking. If the answer weren't so obvious, that is.

Those darn vibes

The Knickerbockers of New York swept the 76ers of Philadelphia out of the NBA playoffs yesterday by 30 points, 144-114. It concluded a four-game beatdown of a team that came into the series having won three straight itself to  knock the Boston Celtics out of the playoffs.

And now, God help me, I'm starting to get these vibes.

Willis Reed vibes. Dave DeBusschere vibes. Walt "Clyde" Frazier vibes.

Please, Lord. Stop me before history kills me again.

Because, look, I know, this is utter folly. Comparing these Knicks to those Knicks? The legendary Knicks? The NBA champion Knicks? What am I, nuts?

Don't answer that.

Anyway, what got me hearing echoes of Willis and Dave and Clyde 'n' them is what the Knicks have doing so far in the playoffs, which is go through them like Patton through Europe. Swept the Sixers. Beat Atlanta in six games in the first round, booting the Hawks by 51 points in Atlanta in Game 6. 

In the last three games in that series, they won by 16, 29 and 51.  That's a a 96-point combined victory margin if you're keeping score at home.

Oh, and that win yesterday?

 The Knickerbockers led by 24 at halftime, having made 18 threes by that time. That tied an NBA record for most triples in a half.

Also, the 30-point win means they closed out their first two series by a combined 81 points. Both on the road.

That's "holy shite" and "omigod" if you're keeping score at home.

"Does this mean you think the Knicks are going to win it all?" you're saying now.

Oh, heavens, no. They're the Knicks. They'll find a way to crush New York's soul, same as always. And, besides, do you REALLY want to hear celebrity Knicks fan Stephen A. Smith if his guys win it all?

Good lord. He'll be hollering for weeks.

However ...

However, the vibes keep coming. 

Suddenly I'm looking at the way these Knicks distribute the basketball, and it's starting to look like the way Red Holtzman's Knicks distributed the basketball. Is that Jalen Brunson out there, or Clyde? Is Karl-Anthony Towns starting to resemble Willis? And who's DeBusschere in this scenario, Mikal Bridges or OG Anunoby?

By the way, did you know the Knicks' average margin of victory in the playoffs so far is 19-plus points? Which is the largest margin of victory since the playoffs expanded to 16 teams 43 years ago?

 Nineteen points! Why, that's almost 20 POINTS PER GAME.

Please. I'm begging you.

Somebody hit me over the head and bring me to my senses. Now.

Preview ... or not

 Christian Lundgaard won the Indianapolis Grand Prix yesterday at the Speedway, bringing it home for Arrow McLaren with a nervy outside pass of David Malukas with 18 laps to go. This immediately makes him the favorite for the Indianapolis 500 two weeks hence.

"Wait, what?" you're saying now.

I said ... this makes him the favorite for the Indianapolis 500 two weeks hence. Because doesn't the winner of the Grand Prix always go on to win the Greatest Spectacle?

"No," you're saying.

Well, Alex Palou won both last year.

"But Alex Palou won damn near everything last year."

And, um, let's see, didn't Simon Pagenaud win both in 2019? And Will Power in 2018?

"Well, yes. But ..."

But what?

"What about all the other years?"

Ah.

OK, so maybe Lundgaard's win wasn't a preview of coming attractions, although he had his best finish in the Big One last year, coming home seventh. And he's got one of the premier rides in IndyCar with Arrow McLaren. And he's got three other top-ten finishes so far in the young IndyCar season, including second at Alabama.

So, yeah. It could happen. But it could also (and probably more likely) NOT happen.

At any rate, Lundgaard's in the conversation now. But you know who raised an eyebrow in these precincts yesterday?

The guy who finished third.

That guy was Graham Rahal, and it was his second podium in the last three races, and, listen, who knows, who knows. Indy in May is the quirkiest of places, and it has a habit of occasionally meting out both triumph and heartbreak with wild caprice. 

How else to explain the fact Mario Andretti, the greatest American race driver of all time if A.J. Foyt isn't, won the 500 just once in 29 tries? Or Scott Dixon, the greatest IndyCar racer of his generation, winning it at 27 in 2008 and never since? Or Buddy Rice winning in 2004 and then virtually disappearing, putting up just two more wins, five poles and five podiums across an eight-year IndyCar run?

Graham Rahal?

Indy in May's mostly been a nightmare for him, especially lately. In 18 starts he's finished third twice, most recently in 2020. Since then he's finished 32nd, 14th, 22nd, 15th and 17th. Qualifying has been even worse; since 2010, he's started 26th or worse seven times.

And the last three 500s?

Well, in 2023 he failed to qualify but replaced the injured Stefan Wilson in his Dreyer-Reinbold seat and started 33rd. He finished 22nd.

In 2024 he started dead last again and finished 15th.

Last year he started 28th and finished 17th.

But, again, it's Indy. History's eddies course down the weird channels here. So maybe, finally, it will be his year.

Or Christian Lundgaard's. 

Or Alex Palou's again.

Or Josef Newgarden's, Scott Dixon's, Pato O'Ward's, David Malukas's, Kyle Kirkwood's, on and on and on.

Flip a coin. Good as predictor as any.

Speed freak

Maybe you didn't hear about what happened in Milwaukee, Wis., last night, where the hometown Brewers whupped the lordly New York Yankees in fine and thorough fashion.

What happened was, a splinter of a kid named Jacob Misiorowski shut out the Pinstripes 6-0.

Along the way, he struck out 11 batters in just six innings' work.

Also along the way, he threw 95 pitches.

Forty-one of them -- almost half -- dinged the radar gun at more than 100 mph. Ten hit 103 or higher. The fastest pitch he threw clocked in at 103.6,the highest velocity of any pitch tracked by MLB since it started tracking such things in 2008. Misiorowski did it three times.

Now imagine you're a batter standing in the box looking out at this dude, who's 24 years old but looks like he just got back from the prom.

He winds up. You dig in. He lets one fly at 103.6, from 60-feet, six-inches away.

Know how fast that pitch is traveling?

According to Mr. Calculator here, it's traveling 150.9 feet per second. Which means you have less than half-a-second to react.

Ridiculous.

Also ridiculous?

Misiorowski doesn't think the speed freak stuff is the story. Or at least not all of it.

"I'm not real keen on the velo, whether it's 100 or 103 or whatever," he said. "I just know if you don't have your other stuff or don't locate that in the zone or you're throwing it just down the middle, these guys can time up a jet plane."

Maybe so. But I can just hear what a Yankee or two might have said in response:

Oh, yeah? YOU try it, kid.

Indeed.

Wrestle mania

 I haven't checked in on professional wrestling since, I don't know, Rowdy Roddy Piper was playing dirty pool against Hulk Hogan or something, mainly because it's professional wrestling. Hasn't really been on my radar since I was into cartoons, which has been some time ago.

But this morning I was cruising the ESPN site per usual, and suddenly this appeared on my laptop: A picture of some guy with biker hair pounding lumps on some guy dressed as the Gingerbread Man.

"Well, THIS is interesting," I said to myself, and opened the accompanying story.

Let me say right here that things have changed a bit in pro wrestling since the Hulk/Rowdy Roddy days. And certainly since the Dick the Bruiser/Yukon Moose Cholak days.

Bruiser and the Hulk never beat up on a literal cartoon character, for one thing.

But, yes, here was the aforementioned Gingerbread Man, who was last seen cavorting with Trick Williams, a present-day pro rassler. This was supposedly the way Williams chose to troll his opponent, Sami Zayn, the guy with the biker hair. Sayn's hair, you see, is red.

He's a "ginger," in other words. Get it?

Anyway, Williams went on to beat Zayn, but that's not all, folks! You think pro wrestling's gonna turn its back on something as wacky as the Gingerbread Man?

Oh, HELL, no. Because on the next edition of "SmackDown," there the Gingerbread Man was again, celebrating with Williams and his sidekick Lil Yachty. (And, no, I'm not making up these names). Except -- what's this? -- it was actually ZAYN wearing the gingerbread man costume, and he proceeded to attack Williams and Yachty. (Again, not making up these names).

And the next week?

More Gingerbread Man.

This time, however, it was a mannequin Zayn had dressed in the costume. He proceeded to pound the dough out of fake Gingerbread Man, in the process "ripping off its delicious arm" according to the account by ESPN correspondent Greg Wyshynski.

So that's your pro rasslin' these days.

Can't wait for the next WrestleMania, emphasis on the "mania." I predict a cage match between the resurrected Gingerbread Man and the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. 

Highest sugar content wins.

Canaries in the mine

OK, class, it's Friday morning here at the University of Blob, and ya'll know what means. Quiz time!

"Aw, gee, Mr. Blob," you're saying now. "Do we hafta?"

Yeah, you hafta. Besides, this quiz is easy. It's only one question.

Q: How do you know when an NBA team knows it's up against it?

A: When it starts griping about the officiating.

It's the canary in the mine in the Association, and it  happened last week, when the Philadelphia 76ers rallied from a three-games-to-one deficit to take down the choking-dog Boston Celtics in Game 7 in Boston. As night follows day, the Celts' Jaylen Brown came out in the aftermath and said the officiating in the series was less than impartial, and the league really ought to do something about it.

Fast forward a handful of days later, and here were your Los Angeles Lakers, losing to defending champion Oklahoma City last night by 18 in Game 2 of the Western Conference semis. That put the Lake Show down 2-0 in the series, the Thunder having also beaten it by 18 in Game 1. 

You know what that meant.

Sure enough, Lakers coach JJ Redick crabbed about the officiating in the postgame, saying Oke City gets away with stuff because it hardly ever does what Redick was doing, which is crab about the officiating. He also said it was disgusting the way LeBron James gets pounded on, claiming that LBJ gets "the worst whistle of any star player I've ever seen."

About LeBron, he might have had a point. In two games in this series so far, LeBron's shot a measly five free throws. And, yes, it's an eternal verity in the NBA that the big fellas always get pounded on with impunity. 

However ...

However, Redick didn't pick the most opportune time to take off on the officiating, except for the fact his team is down 2-0 and he likely knows in his heart of hearts that Oke City is just better than his Lakers. 

Hard to make a case for blatant favoritism, after all, when the Thunder was whistled for 21 fouls and the Lakers for 26, in Oklahoma City. Hard to argue Joe Official was a terrible handicap when the Thunder shoots just five more free throws -- again, at home.

Yet, Redick did. Because ...

Well. See all of the above.