Less Angeles

 God bless that ball coach at Texas Tech, Joey McGuire. He knows how to hit 'em where it hurts, even when the hit bounces off and smacks his own face.

Maybe you've heard a bit about how USC played San Jose State in its home opener last weekend, and like 12 people showed up. You not only could have picked your own seat in the Coliseum's yawning acreage, you could have picked your own row.

So, naturally, the interwhatsis had a fine time trolling USC and Less, er, Los Angeles, saying what a pathetic sports town it must be if even so proud a college football program as USC couldn't draw flies.

This included the aforementioned Coach Joey, who said this: "Not to take any shots, because I have a lot of respect for USC and Lincoln Riley, but it's really awesome to be playing in Lubbock, Texas, knowing we're going to be playing in front of 60,000 ... They're going to show up no matter what the weather's like. There's not going to be any excuses of why they're not here for us."

Couple of things about that, as McGuire unwittingly dents his own schnozz.

One, it's Lubbock, Texas.

Two, it's Lubbock, Texas.

Which is to say, OF COURSE they're gonna show up this weekend. What else is there to do in Lubbock, Texas, on a Saturday? Sit in a rocker down at the Cracker Barrel and watch the tumblin' tumbleweeds blow past?

And, yes, I know, Lubbock is an actual city -- a college town -- not Gulpin' Gulch or Dirt Clod Corners. For instance, it really does have a Cracker Barrel. Plus, one assumes, numerous other modern conveniences.

However.

However, it's not L.A. So McGuire making that comparison is the proverbial apple comparing itself to the proverbial orange.

L.A., after all, is Hollywood and Vine. It's swimmin' pools and movie stars. It's surfer dudes at Malibu, rollerbladers on Venice Beach and fancy restaurants where only studio execs can get a table, and which specialize in such delicacies as abalone pizza and medallions of squab hunkered down in a bed of imported Brisbane kale.

In other words, Angelenos have a lot goin' on. It's why L.A. has never been regarded as a great sports town, even by Angelenos. The only time the masses show up is when the Dodgers or Lakers are flying high -- and then it's not so much to root for the Dodgers or Lakers, but to be seen rooting for the Dodgers or Lakers.

As more than one observer has observed, L.A. is the front-runningest sports town in America.

So OF COURSE there were a lot of folks dressed as empty seats Saturday. Who's gonna come bake like a crescent roll to watch a nothing college football game in August? After all, they've got a table for two waiting at Musso and Frank's.

This is why the Blob is halfway stunned that L.A. now has not one but two NFL teams, the Rams and the Chargers. In previous lives, after all, the Rams and the Chargers were such big hits in Los Angeles they moved to St. Louis and San Diego. They only moved back because the owners of the St. Louis Rams and San Diego Chargers were colossal dicks, and because the NFL lusted after all that chunky L.A.  exposure.

I mean, how could the NFL call itself America's premier sporting attraction if it didn't have a Los Angeles presence, lousy sports town or no lousy sports town?

So no surprise the Coliseum was an echo chamber last weekend. And no surprise Lubbock's Galaxy Stadium will be anything but when the Red Raiders take the field Saturday night against Abilene Christian.

You got your culture, see, and you got your other culture. Ain't it great?

The Fist-y City

 There were no drunken brawls in the nether regions of Wrigley Field last night, possibly because the drunks were too busy catching the baseballs the Cubs kept airmailing into the seats. A 17-3 beatdown of the rival Brewers -- in which the Bearcubs hit an astounding nine home runs -- will soothe the savage beast in anyone, it seems.

And believe me, there do seem to be a lot of savage beasts in the Fist-y City these days. Or  plain idiots, if you prefer.

Several times in the last few weeks ugly brawls have erupted in the outfield seats at both Wrigley and Rate Park on the south side, as lard-ish over-served guys in throwback Sandberg and Konerko jerseys have traded punches ... or leaped four rows onto a Sandberg's back ... or been Konerko-ed three or four more rows on down.

At least once it happened during the Cubs-White Sox city series, so maybe no surprise there. Still, it does make you wonder what they're putting in the water these days in Chi.

Or maybe it's just Chicago being Chicago -- although far be it from me to indict a whole city for the actions of a few ... OK, a bunch ... OK. a whole pile of low-IQ meatheads.

Because, listen, how dim do you have to be to say "Imma go out to the Confines, slam  eleventy Old Styles and then go to Fist City with some loser in a Hee-Seop Choi jersey"?

You can't beat fun at the old ballpark, as Harry used to say.

Seriously, what compels anyone who walks upright to start a fight at a baseball game, other than the booze? It's a baseball game, people. It's supposed to be red hots and Cracker Jacks and a good time that's had by all. What could possibly make you mad enough to start punching another baseball fan in the face (or more than likely, miss everything but air with five out of six punches?)

Surely it can't be baseball-related, can it?

Drunken Sox Fan: Sandberg? Man, that guy was sooo overrated. 

Drunken Cubs Fan: Konerko? What's that, a rash?

Sox Fan: Remember 1906? (Sox 4-2 over the Cubs in the World Series)

Cubs Fan: Remember 2016?

Sox Fan:  Big whoop. You beat CLEVELAND, for God's sake.

Random Indians Fan In A Joe Charbonneau Jersey: Hey!

(Leaps over a row of seats and starts pounding on Sox fan)

Could that possibly happen? 

Or is just because it's late August/early September, everyone's worn out from the summer heat, and the Bears are still talking about moving to INDIANA, for God's sake?

Random Fan In The Bleachers: Hey, Indiana's not so bad.

(Drunken Sox Fan and Drunken Cubs Fan leap over TWO rows of seats and start swinging, knocking several full beers out of people's hands and drawing their pissed-off owners into the fray ...)

Yessir. Now THAT I could see.

 

The little guy(s)

 Spent some time this morning looking up facts about Curacao, on account of a bunch of their 12-year-olds whupped Henderson, Nev., 11-2 yesterday to win the Little League World Series. 

Spotted Henderson a 2-0 lead, the kids from Curacao did. Then they scored 11 straight runs to win going away.

So, anyway, about Curacao: It's an island in the Dutch Caribbean that's smaller than Hibbing, Minn. People there speak Papiamento, Dutch and English. It has a population of 156,000, which makes it less than half the size of Henderson.

You know what, though?

Their 12-year-olds can play baseball.

So can Henderson's 12-year-olds. So can every 12-year-old on every team in the LLWS, which is what makes watching it so endlessly fascinating.

Fascinating because every game you see the 12-year-olds perform certain baseball functions better than major-leaguers generally do.

Hit the cutoff man, for instance. Move baserunners over. And, as a part of that, execute an effective bunt.

These 12-year-olds, see -- these kids -- can drop a bunt on a dime. And do. A lot.

It's a skill as rare as a Bigfoot sighting in the upper reaches of the venerable old game, which is why the kids frequently are a lot better at it. I get a kick out of that, frankly. I also get a kick out of the 12-year-olds occasionally do 12-year-old stuff, like break into a dance at second base after spanking a double into the gap, or cleanly scoop, yes, a perfectly placed bunt -- and then throw it ten miles over the first baseman's head.

In the LLWS, there's always a nerdy kid in glasses who plays the bassoon in the school band and throws absolute cheese from the pitcher's mound. Sunday, that kid was Henderson starter Payton Hinsen, who (in the Blob's opinion) should never have been taken out after Curacao tied the game 2-2 in the second inning. 

There's always the requisite Big Kid, who in this case was 5-foot-10, 100-pound Steven Felix of Curacao. And there's always a little kid coming up big -- in this case Shardijon De Lanoi, second smallest kid on the field at 5-feet even.

All he did was drive in three runs and score another for the champs.

And then, presumably, made a beeline for a Big Mac, Curacao's players having been on a strictly monitored diet since the LLWS began.

"Every kid (will eat) McDonald's," predicted Curacao coach Railison Gijsbertha, grinning fit to burst.

Love it.

Double the Pato

 Alex Palou wrapped up his record-tying fourth straight IndyCar title yesterday in Milwaukee, launching him into the IndyCar stratosphere alongside the likes of A.J. Foyt and Scott Dixon, which is not a bad stratosphere to inhabit.

His fifth title overall -- all in the last six years, mind you -- puts him behind only Foyt (seven) and Dixon (sixth) in IndyCar history. He's the first driver since Sebastien Bourdais from 2004 to 2007 to win four straight championships, and, at 29, he's the youngest driver ever to win five total.

In other words, he's the Man. And likely to be the Man for quite a few more years.

But that wasn't all the precedent-denting that went on at the Milwaukee Mile yesterday.

Did you hear what Pato O'Ward did?

He won two races. In the same day.

Won the regularly scheduled 250-miler, outrunning Scott McLaughlin on exhausted rubber in the late going. Then, three hours later, he won the rain-interrupted Milwaukee Mile 250 from Saturday, ducking under David Malukas on a late restart to complete the double play.

O'Ward was leading that one when persistent rain red-flagged it after 90 laps on Saturday. So he won one race while simultaneously leading another, which he admitted in the first post-race was Weird City.

"Yeah, I've never been in this position before ... pretty crazy," he said. "We could make history today by being the first IndyCar driver to win two races in one day."

He was wrong about that, but you couldn't blame him for not knowing. He's only 27, after all. The last time an IndyCar driver won two races in one day happened 18 years before he was born; that driver was Rick Mears, surprise, surprise, who swept both ends of a doubleheader in Atlanta way back in 1981.

Now the Double Pato joins the Richard Repeat in the books, while Palou becomes the first driver in 19 years to win four straight championships. Not a bad day for history at the Mile, which has seen quite a bit of it.

First guy to win an IndyCar race there, after all?

Wilbur Shaw. In 1933.

Sis-boom-hurrah

 Flipped on the tube yesterday afternoon, and there was Bill Belchick in Ireland, glowering into his Guinness. He was all decked out in Carolina blue. An Irish rain was falling softly on his fields on thinning gray hair, and on the TCU Horned Frogs in their purple finery, and on Coach Bill's Tar Heel defense, which was smothering the life out of the Frogs.

College football was back. And yippee and sis-boom-hurrah for that.

And, yeah,  OK, they're not the same anymore, those Saturday afternoons in the fall Chris Schenkel used to rhapsodize about. The student-athletes are pros now, and half of them are on their second or third mailing address. The coaches are CEOs pulling down CEO jack. And where football is concerned, the schools aren't really schools anymore, but commercial brands subsidized by ESPN or Fox or one of the alphabet networks.

And yet ...

And yet, I watched Bill's boys send Sonny Dykes' Frogs packing, and it felt like autumn again. Out in Los Angeles, under a brilliant southern California sun, a quarterback named Jayden Maiava was completing a gazillion passes in a row -- he was 25-of-29 on the day -- as USC spanked San Jose State 42-26 and the USC band played that annoying fight song over and over and over.

Change the channel, and here was Virginia dropping an anvil on North Carolina State's Wolfpack under another brilliant sun in history-soaked Charlottesville. Stanford came from way back to beat Hawaii, and William & Mary scored 13 points in the last minute to steal one from Villanova. And out in Fargo, N.D., former FCS monster North Dakota State trampled Jacksonville 33-7 in its first-ever FBS game.

Heck. Even the Blob's Civil War nerd got some satisfaction, as its favorite school named after a Civil War general won its opener. Howard 31, Alabama A&M 24, beeotches. Ol' Oliver Otis must be waving the arm he didn't lose at Fair Oaks up in there in paradise.

A lovely day. A Saturday afternoon in late August spent jumping from one game to another, and suddenly it was late October. Set out the jack-o-lantern and get the Twizzlers ready for the trick-or-treaters.

 OK. So not really.

But you know what?

Saturday morning I was driving downtown, and along the way I passed a certain tree. Most of its leaves were green. But almost half of them had already turned a deep crimson, as if it couldn't wait to get autumn started.

Or maybe it was just dressed for the day. Maybe that.

Loopholes, Part Deux

 So remember the other day -- it was Wednesday, if memory serves -- when the Blob blobbed about a tight end named Dae'Quan Wright who decided to go back to college ball after the Cleveland Browns released him?

The SEC immediately pushed through rules that prohibited players who'd been in a pro camp from coming back to college, and threatened severe penalties for any member schools that tried to add them to their rosters. The Blob said this was all well and good, but as surely as night follows day, the suits soon would be hauling everyone into court forthwith.

Their argument, in the Blob's opinion, would be that because the college game is virtually indistinguishable from the pro game these days, a pro released by an NFL team should have every right to rejoin a pro SEC program if he still had eligibility.

Well, guess what, boys and girls?

Forthwith came a bit sooner than expected.

This from ESPN reporter Dan Murphy:

The SEC and commissioner Greg Sankey are not allowed, at least for now, to punish schools if they play a college football player who returns to campus after signing a contract with an NFL team this summer, according to an order signed Friday by a Louisiana state judge.

The temporary restraining order prohibits the SEC from enforcing a new rule adopted by the conference earlier this week that threatens stiff penalties for any team that uses a player previously who previously signed a contract to play in the NFL, NBA or WNBA. The league voted to enact the rule after tight end Dae'Quan Wright and defensive tackle Zxavian Harris announced plans to join their former coach, Lane Kiffin, at LSU after leaving NFL training camps ...

The judge also signed a show-cause order that requires the SEC and NCAA to explain during Thursday' hearing why the new penalties associated with their pro athlete rules, which plaintiffs' attorneys described as "draconian," do not put them in contempt of court and in violation of the judge's previous ruling in the case.

Well, well, well. Sometimes the Blob DOES get the prognostication thing right. 

Or, you know, pretty close to right.

The argument being floated by Wright, Harris and others, it seems, is not the colleges-are-just-as-pro-as-the-pros tack the Blob predicted. Rather, they're arguing that the only reason they were in pro training camps to begin with is because they believed their eligibility was exhausted. But a court ruling in June (the "previous ruling" in question) granted a fifth year of eligibility for everyone, meaning Wright and Harris still had a year in the bank.

"(The NCAA) created this cluster, and now they've got to lay in that bed," said Tony Clayton, one of the attorneys representing Wright, Harris and 40 other athletes.

Hmmm. That sounds familiar ...

From the Blob, three days ago: My perhaps un-bold prediction is the judge won't buy those groceries for a second. He (or she) will say, essentially, "Boys, you made this bed. Now you gotta sleep in it."

I love it when a prediction comes THIS together. Don't you?

Bad Bad

 Every once in awhile something happens that freshens the Blob's perpetually sour-milk attitude about the world in general, and makes it think for a heartbeat or two there might be hope for our species after all.

Today, that something is what's happening to a YouTube company called Good Good Golf, which recently was really Bad Bad.

Gone radioactive, Good Good has, and bless their hearts. This is on account of a YouTube ad it produced to promote a new driver it's co-developed with golf giant Callaway.  In the 60-second spot, a male golfer/content creator (Garrett Clark) flies into a rage and shoves a female golfer/content creator (Alexis Miestowski) to the ground because she touched his Callaway/Good Good Golf driver.

"Do not touch my new driver!" he shouts.

Apparently whoever came up with this thought it was hi-larious. Ditto everyone who signed off on it -- including the folks at Callaway, who admitted in a statement they were extremely lax in vetting the thing.

Now, the sour-milk side of me must say I'm not surprised the creators of the ad thought a man pushing a woman to the ground and yelling at her was the height of humor. Under the current Regime, offensive, obnoxious and puerile has become the humor of record. Anyone who says otherwise is a politically-correct snowflake who can't take a joke.

"F*** your feelings," after all, is more than just a T-shirt these days. It's practically official policy.

And yet ...

And yet, Callaway posted the aforementioned mea culpa, and announced it was severing all ties with Good Good Golf, effective immediately.

Dick's Sporting Goods and its golf subsidiary, Golf Galaxy, pulled Good Good products off their shelves.

Golf Galaxy also asked to have its branding removed from the upcoming Golf Channel reality show "Big Break x Good Good", prompting the network to postpone the series debut. 

Last but not least, Good Good dropped its sponsorship of an upcoming PGA Tour tournament.

So at least some part of corporate America still retains a bit of common decency, it seems. I find that encouraging, no matter what the sour-milk part of me thinks.

Of course, what the sour-milk part thinks is the clock has started on when some internet troll indicts Callaway, Golf Galaxy and the PGA Tour for the crime of "wokeness." So there's that.