Sports Sense

I don’t know how many people know or care, but the Indiana Pacers finally won a playoff series Tuesday night.   Okay, they beat a Dwight Howard-less, Orlando Magic team 4 games to 1, a team that wasn’t going anywhere.  But they probably could have beaten the Magic even if Howard had been healthy.

Indiana Pacers' David West Celebrates

Yes, the Pacers are my hometown, childhood-favorite team, which makes me a real homer here, but the fact is the Pacers have had a pretty good season, no matter how much my prejudices might blind me.

But beating the nearly defenseless Orlando Magic was nothing compared to the task ahead for the Pacers – a series against the villainous but star-studded Miami Heat.

I doubt anyone gives the Pacers much of a chance against Miami’s Big Three of LeBron James, Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh.   And as much I root for the Pacers I can’t in good conscience say they will win that series either.

But what they can win, something previous Pacers teams won years ago, is RESPECT.  Whether they win the series or only a single game, the 2012 Pacers must give the Heat all they can handle and then some.

These Pacers, who don’t have a nationally recognized player, let alone a single star, are rarely mentioned in the national media.  ESPN’s Sportscenter often shows Pacers’ highlights just before the end of the program, and then sometimes show more plays from the opposing team.  Talk about a lack of respect.

Such is the fate of a small market team with very few followers, let alone true believers.   Even the home fans have had little faith in the Pacers.  In recent years, including this season, the Pacers have languished near the bottom in NBA attendance.

The fans in Indianapolis are notoriously front-running and hard to please.  But the fan base really started to tune out the Pacers after the notorious “brawl” in Detroit against the Piston’s nearly eight years ago.  The Pacers who for more than a decade were one of the NBA’s top teams suddenly became bottom-feeders, and pariahs.  Their players were called thugs and the Pacers missed the playoffs for five consecutive seasons.

But a careful rebuilding project by team president Larry Bird, which meant that losses would mount while character was re-established, has finally produced dividends.  The Pacers finished this lockout shortened regular season, 18 games over .500, culminating with a third seed in the playoffs.

But even with the team’s best season in years, the doubters remain.  Ironically some of those doubters might be wearing Pacers’ uniforms.   Leading scorer Danny Granger, who lately perpetually seems to have an angry scowl on his face, will have to confidently man up to try to take away some of LeBron James passing and driving lanes.  First time all-star center Roy Hibbert will need to show that he’s not still a project in the making.   And power forward David West who is starting to shed the lingering effects of his surgically repaired ACL, must continue to be the glue that binds and leads.

But with all that said, can the Pacers actually win the series against Miami?  I’m not betting on it.  But I do believe they have a chance to earn some respect by playing tough, hardnosed, team basketball.  For a team on the rise, that is trying to regain the trust and admiration of its fans and win over a skeptical media, that’s really not too much to ask.

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I’ve often wondered what kind of results the University of Tennessee’s Pat Summitt would have produced had she coached men.  There are many who believe just the thought of college basketball’s all-time winning coach leading a men’s team devalues the women’s game.

Although I disagree with that sentiment, I do understand where it’s coming from.  While Pat Summitt’s unmatched coaching record should be able to stand on its own merit, in the real world of sports, and public perception, women’s accomplishments rarely if ever mean as much as men’s.

Pat Summitt

Still, no one can dismiss Summitt’s astounding record.  She won nearly 1100 games in her illustrious, 38-year tenure as a head coach, losing just over 200 and garnering eight national championships.  The simple fact is few coaches of either sex understand the game of basketball better than she does.

But for all that Pat Summitt has meant to the sport, I should not be writing about her retirement right now.  She is only 59 years old.  She should have at least another decade of winning games and titles.   But Summit is contending with one of life’s most cruel and misunderstood diseases, Alzheimer’s.

Last summer Pat Summitt revealed that she is suffering from the early onset of Alzheimer’s and would not be coaching much longer.   Despite the diagnosis, she coached the Lady Vols into yet another NCAA tournament this season, concluding with a spot in the Elite Eight – again.  But success aside, it was clear to most observers, including Summitt herself, that another year of coaching would have required a miracle that only the Lord could provide.  Which is why on Wednesday she announced her retirement.

Bit by bit Alzheimer’s erodes comprehension, memories and connections.  And it ultimately ends the lives of those it afflicts.  Because of that eventual reality, Summitt is leaving coaching while she still has time to enjoy the companionship of her loved ones and close friends.

Pat Summitt got into the coaching business at an early age.  She was selected as head coach at the University of Tennessee right after graduating from the University of Tennessee – Martin, in 1974.

Summitt carefully constructed the basketball program at Tennessee, one smartly placed board at a time, just as women’s sports were gaining needed prominence and respect.  Her fierce competitiveness and intelligence drove her and her players.  The resounding success created her legend and rewarded her handsomely.  Summitt would eventually earn more than most men’s coaches – a reported $1.5 million annually.

I never got the chance to meet or interview Pat Summitt.  My observations of her have come at a distance – watching her coach her players on television and what I’ve read and heard her say.  I’ve also formed an opinion based on the nearly unanimous and reverential praise of Summitt coming from just about the entire basketball community.

While her coaching career is being prematurely halted by a disease that still mystifies doctors and scientists, Pat Summitt can move on knowing she’s positively influenced the lives of her players, and changed the way millions of people now view women’s sports and their coaches.

While she is most often judged by her many wins and championships, one of the most significant accomplishments of her leadership is the fact that literally every Lady Vol who completed four years of eligibility playing for Pat Summitt earned a college degree.

When we rank the truly great coaches of all-time, male and female, Pat Summitt, as her famous last name implies, must be considered at or near the top.

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Ordinarily, Miami Marlins’ manager Ozzie Guillen revels in controversies.   His edgy outspokenness has easily made him one of baseball’s most interesting but sometimes most polarizing figures.

Of course had he not won a World Series with the Chicago White Sox a few years back, he’d probably be considered just another loudmouth baseball blowhard.  That’s just how fine the line is when you speak your mind and sometimes offend.  The lesson is if you’re going to be offensive at least have a few trophies and rings to cover for your ignorance or poor choice of words.  Guillen’s success as a manager provided him with plenty of cover – in the past.

Ozzie Guillen

But this time, Ozzie Guillen really stepped in it in South Florida.  During a recent interview, Guillen foolishly expressed admiration for the repugnant, anti-American dictator, Fidel Castro.  Why would Guillen say such a thing?  Was he naïve, or just stupid?

Surely he should have known better than to say something that would inflame the justifiably sensitive and politically powerful Cuban-American community of Miami, many of whom were refugees, or whose parents and other relatives risked their lives to flee Castro’s repressive communist regime.

How could Guillen say anything that sounds even remotely supportive of one of America’s foremost political enemies?  But say it he did.  And he’ll have to live with it.

Well, on Tuesday in front of Miami media and interested parties around the nation, Guillen, who had already learned he would be suspended by the Marlins five games, said he was misunderstood.  He claimed that when he was being interviewed by a reporter he was thinking in Spanish but speaking in English which he said caused him to misspeak.  Not sure I’m buying it, but that’s his story and he’s sticking to it.

That said, while explaining how he said what he said, he in fact did provide what seemed like a legitimate, heartfelt apology to Cuban-Americans in particular and to the Miami community in general.  Guillen who was born in Venezuela, also indicated that he too is appalled by the elderly Cuban leader’s brutal leadership.

Nonetheless I am discomfited by what happened in South Florida. Yes, I think it is inappropriate in any way to salute Castro, whose revolution 50 years ago still reverberates negatively today.

But I am also uneasy with the demand for Guillen to apologize or be fired for simply being ignorant.  And I am bothered by the cursory suspension levied by the Marlins, done in part for PR and financial reasons to placate a fan base that might not turn out to see games in the sparkling new stadium.  Further, I don’t like the piling on by Major League Baseball, which felt the need to also condemn Guillen’s remarks, and endorse his suspension.

I feel like free speech and political correctness collided in Miami in the most unseemly of ways. It forced Ozzie Guillen, who is now an American citizen, to figuratively fall to his knees begging for understanding and forgiveness and ultimately, his job.

It also caused the ordinarily savvy Cuban-American community to over-react to a man whose primary sin in this case was his stupidity and insensitivity.

I am glad though that the Marlins, which meted out their community inspired punishment, said that the five games Guillen will be suspended will be enough of a penalty and that they support him as the team’s manager going forward.

And I am hoping that when Guillen comes back, he’ll be much smarter, appropriately chastened, and the issue will be closed.  I also hope he will one day be forgiven for his moment of ignorance.

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On Thursday many people, including me, believed that the 2012 Masters would mark the official return of Tiger Woods.  But by Friday it was pretty clear that a frustrated club-kicking Tiger had no teeth, at least not for this most important major.

Joyous Bubba Watson sheds tears with his mother

Then by Saturday night after Phil Mickelson destroyed the legendary course with a dominating 66, it looked like “Lefty” as he is often called, was well-positioned to win his fourth Green Jacket.

But on Sunday night it was another lefty, named Bubba, who actually captured the fabled jacket.

And in beating Louis Oosthuizen in a sudden death playoff, long-hitting Bubba Watson, who swings a mighty pink driver, may have earned more than just golf’s most prestigious prize, but also a prized place in the hearts of golf fans at Augusta and those watching on TV.

It was refreshing to watch someone else win The Masters this year.  But to be honest I never paid much attention to Bubba Watson before Sunday.

I didn’t know that Bubba, a University of Georgia Bulldog, who often practiced at Augusta, never had formal golf lessons, and no swing coach either. (I am so tired of hearing about swing coaches!)  This was a completely self-taught golfer winning the sport’s most hallowed tournament.

The last unrefined, self-taught golfer that I can recall capturing the imagination of the American public was Lee Trevino more than 40 years ago.  Trevino went on to win 6 majors and become a golf legend.  Maybe that’s Bubba’s future.

The only complaint I have is Bubba Watson’s recent purchase of the General Lee, the Confederate flag draped car that was the centerpiece of the old Dukes of Hazard TV show.  I have no patience for the Confederate flag and what it stands for.  I hope Bubba will someday come to understand the flag’s negative symbolism and get rid of the car or paint over the flag.

But that indiscretion aside and believe me, it’s a major indiscretion, it was good to see a new face atop golf’s most prestigious tournament.

There was no red-shirted golfer pumping his fist at the end of 72 holes on Sunday and that was alright.  But there was a man dressed in all white celebrating instead.  A man who shed a bucket-load of joyful tears, and perhaps heralds the arrival of a new golfing hero.

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New Orleans Saints, San Francisco 49ers playoff game

I listened to the audio the other day of former New Orleans Saints defensive coordinator Gregg Williams exhorting his players to hurt and maim key members of the San Francisco 49ers offense.

I suppose what I heard will probably add another year or so to Williams’ indefinite suspension, or worse, perhaps make it permanent.

As bad as the on-going “bounty-gate” scandal has become, especially now with the release of the damning audio from the Saints locker room, I’m just not willing to act like it’s the worst thing that has ever happened in sports.  I’m growing weary of the hypocrisy that “bounty-gate” has inspired.

Yes, Williams’ words on the recording sounded particularly cruel and vicious.  But I also believe they are things that are said every Sunday in the NFL.  They are said every Saturday afternoon by a coach at the college level.  They are said every Friday night by some coach before a high school game.   We might not like it, but the cold truth is, those words, or words similar to them, are part of the culture of the game.

Football is at the top of the list of the “hurt” sports.

A few years ago, former New York Jets head coach Herman Edwards famously declared, “You play to win the game.”  He could have also added without exaggeration, “You play to hurt somebody.”

Why could he have said that?  Because that is what football is all about.  Hitting and hurting. Winning is the dessert.  But hitting and hurting are the entree.

My favorite team growing up was the Chicago Bears.  The Bears defensive star back then was the great middle linebacker, Dick Butkus.

The Bears had only two winning seasons during Butkus’ nine years with the Bears, but his career is still celebrated, largely because of the brutally-fabulous havoc he wreaked on opposing offenses.  You could enjoy watching a Bears game in those days, even when they were losing badly; knowing that at some point Butkus was going to “blow somebody up”.

His big hits are what earned him a valued place in the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

Guys like Dick Butkus are why we watch football.  Fans are vicariously thrilled by the hitting, and the violence.  We have always enjoyed watching men hurt each other.  Boxing, MMA, hockey, and even the entertainment-laden “sport” of pro wrestling, are all about violence and mayhem.   Take the hitting and the beat-downs out, and you might as well shut those sports down, because the fans just won’t watch.

Now before you jump down my throat, aghast in denial, please know that I do understand the newfound concerns about safety, and have sympathy for those who’ve been injured.   And I also know NFL football is the most important sports business in America, worth billions of dollars.  And new lawsuits, alleging life-altering injuries and brain damage, are being filed by former players seemingly every day.

The NFL knows it may one day have to pay dearly for the costly fallout from its legacy of violence, which is why the commissioner and his team of lawyers and public relations staff desperately want to sanitize the league’s image, and rid it of the most egregious enablers.

But I urge you to think twice before you get “holier than thou”, and call for the end of Gregg Williams’ coaching career based on what you hear him say on a recording.  Do understand, he was not the first and he will not be the last to call for the unsavory physical destruction of the opposition.

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With about ten games left in the NBA’s lockout shortened regular season, it’s time to consider awards.

In college basketball there is something called the Most Outstanding Player Award, (MOP), given out at the conclusion of the Final Four.  MOP awards somehow seem much fairer to me than MVP awards.  Great players are recognized for their greatness and exceptional play as well as their valuable contributions to their teams.

Kevin Love

The NBA needs an MOP award.  Unfortunately, the NBA’s most prestigious award is the MVP award, which almost always skews toward someone who is leading one of the league’s top two or three teams, regardless whether that player is actually the NBA’s most outstanding.

Too often guys having outstanding seasons, but who just happen to be trapped on a mediocre or worse team, wrongly have their achievements overlooked.

Where is the love for a player who is lighting it up for say, a team like the Minnesota Timberwolves?

Minnesota hasn’t been relevant since Kevin Garnett’s lone MVP season 8 years ago, which was ironically the only season the Wolves won a playoff series, after seven straight years of losing in the first round.

But there is another guy currently playing in the land of the lakes who is having a tough time getting his just due, because his version of the Minnesota Timberwolves, is much worse than Garnett’s T-Wolves.

That guy is Kevin Love, who is simply the league’s most outstanding player this season.  Please note I did not say the most spectacular player; Blake Griffin owns that meaningless honor, and I didn’t say the most valuable player, who will either be LeBron James or Kevin Durant.

Let me repeat, I am saying that this season, Kevin Love is the NBA’s most outstanding player.  Period.  And it shouldn’t be close.  Love’s numbers speak for themselves.

Except for that unfortunate incident, earlier this year, when he was suspended a couple of games, for stepping on the face of Houston’s Luis Scola; Kevin Love has played remarkably, if not spectacularly.  He has had to do even more for the T-Wolves because of the season ending injury to rookie standout point guard Ricky Rubio.

For those who don’t know, and I’m sure there are many of you who don’t, since Minnesota doesn’t get much Sportscenter  time, Kevin Love is averaging over 26 points per game and is pulling down 13 rebounds each night as well.  Those are superstar, MOP, caliber numbers in any NBA era.

Let me also add that Love is now one of the NBA’s most deadly three point shooters. While the 6’10” power forward won the three-point shooting contest during All Star Weekend, his regular season three-point shooting has been something that even legendary old-school sharpshooters, Larry Bird and Reggie Miller, admire.

And last year Love recorded 53 consecutive double, doubles, the best in the NBA since the NBA/ABA merger.   That’s double figure scoring and double figure rebounding.  But because he played on a Timberwolves team much worse than this year’s edition, he was passed over for consideration as the league’s top power forward, and may be passed over for first team All Pro recognition again this year.  And that’s too bad.

Because if ever there was an NBA player to love, it’s Kevin Love.

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Ever since she became a YouTube sensation a few years ago, stunning the basketball loving world by fiercely and repeatedly, dunking like a guy, Brittney Griner seemed destined for hoops domination.

Brittney Griner cuts down nets

And now that she’s led Baylor’s Lady Bears to the national championship, Griner has finally fulfilled the prodigious destiny that many predicted for her.

By destroying Notre Dame in the championship game Tuesday night, Baylor becomes the first college basketball team, women or men, to go 40 – 0.  And with the 26 points, 13 rebounds and 5 blocked shots that she contributed to the blowout; the 6’8” Brittney Griner has cemented her legend in women’s basketball.

Let me offer some perspective about Brittney Griner’s impact on the women’s game.  While there have been many great female players, a number of them tall, skilled and intimidating, who can actually throw down a dunk or two, like Lisa Leslie and Candace Parker among others, none have been the shutdown defender that Brittney Griner is.

Griner is to women’s college basketball what Lew Alcindor was to the men’s game more than 40 years ago. (Alcindor -AKA -Kareem Abdul Jabbar – to those of you who don’t remember or are too young to know the birth name he played with while leading UCLA to three straight national championships)

At this point in time Griner has no peer, amateur or professional.  So what else does she have to prove?  Shouldn’t she leave the college game and turn pro?

Baylor’s superstar junior who will turn 22 in October is now eligible to leave early and go to the WNBA which launches its season next month.  But the WNBA pays its top players virtually poverty wages compared to men.

The average WNBA salary is well under $100 thousand per season, and as great as she is, even Griner would be hard pressed to demand much more from the cash-strapped, below-the-radar, league.

Griner could also go overseas and play where the pay is much better, but she has made it clear she wants to return to Baylor for her senior year in the fall, which is bad news for Baylor’s opponents.

So what’s the chance of Baylor winning another championship next year, and carving out another unblemished season of 40 wins?  With Brittney Griner coming back as an even better and more dominant player, it’s not only possible, it’s likely.

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It is no surprise that the University of Kentucky beat the University of Kansas to win the national championship Monday night.  They’d been number one most of the year by playing a brand of unselfish basketball that is rare for a group of young stars, most of whom, will probably be in the NBA one day.

University of Kentucky coach John Calipari holds national championship trophy

The most important Kentucky player was a long-armed Bill Russell throwback named Anthony Davis.  Davis, a freshman from Chicago, who won the Final Four’s Most Outstanding Player Award, changed the thoughts of just about every opponent who considered making a run at the basket.   He led the nation in blocked shots.

So why do I feel mildly nauseated by Kentucky winning, while at the same time admiring their skill at playing the game?

Maybe it’s because I continue to be uncomfortable with Kentucky’s coach, John Calipari, a slick, smooth-talking, renegade who left two schools, Massachusetts and Memphis, amid scandals that officially stripped them of their Final Four appearances.   But amazingly Calipari himself sneaked away from personal sanctions in both of those cases- a slippery guy indeed.

It also feels wrong to cheer for a guy who somehow seems to get the country’s best players year after year.  He must be doing something illegal – right?  And to top that off most of his star players only stay in college for a single year.

Case in point, although Kentucky will most certainly lose Anthony Davis, and probably their other freshman sensation, Michael Kidd Gilchrist, to the NBA, it will re-load with another group of high school All-Americans next season.

Still, despite my discomfort with the coach, who in fact does knows how to get stars to play together, the players still have to actually play the game, regardless of the notoriety of their coach.

And this Kentucky squad played textbook team basketball all season long.  Selfless and sharing all the way.  They deserved to win the national championship.  They were the better team – by far.  Kansas never really had a chance.  Now no one can say Calipari can’t win the big one – even if like me, you wished you could keep saying it.

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With Tiger Woods’ five shot victory at the Arnold Palmer Invitational at Bay Hill on Sunday, most of the golf world breathed an enormous sigh of relief, but certainly no more than Tiger himself, a man who has struggled mightily to regain his form and his confidence, ever since he crashed into that tree and lost his marriage and the respect of many.

I have had mixed feelings since Tiger’s fall from grace.  I think I was most angry at the joy he took from me as a fan.  I always took special delight in seeing Tiger dominate his opponents. I particularly savored his wins over media-created, faux-rivals, like Phil Mickelson.

Tiger Triumphs!

The question most golf fans are asking now is the obvious one.  Is Tiger back?  While it’s more complicated than a simple yes, he sure looked like the guy we’ve seen before.

He wore his intimidating red shirt, his drives were generally straight and he once again was sinking puts like his father taught him.

He played well when everyone else didn’t. He was the only player under par on Sunday.

Most people including his fellow golfers certainly hope they saw the real Tiger Woods.

Tiger’s return to form has been coming for a while now.  His closing round 62 a couple of weeks ago, was an indication that he was headed in the right direction, but when he injured his Achilles a week later, doubts about his overall health and prospects returned.

Tiger is the only golfer who matters to the average fan, to the TV networks, to the sponsors and his peers.  While Tiger struggled, the last two and a half years, so did golf.  Ratings were off significantly.  And despite claims that other golfers would fill the void, none did.  It was a costly absence for everyone.

By winning his 72nd official PGA Tour tournament Sunday, Tiger is now just one victory away from his idol Jack Nicklaus’ career wins total of 73 which is second all time behind Sam Snead’s 82.

And although he is still four wins shy of Nicklaus’ major victory total of 18, it no longer looks like winning more majors is a remote possibility for Tiger.  His next major win could come in two weeks at The Masters.

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Peyton Manning is a Bronco.  Bounty hunting is severely punished.  And Tim Tebow takes Tebow-mania to the Big Apple.

Just like that, in the span of only a few days, the very predictable NFL world has been turned inside-out.  Peyton Manning covered in orange?  I never thought I’d see that unless he was wearing his Tennessee Volunteers uniform.

Peyton Manning's new colors

Turns out that ole lovable and injured Peyton is one shrewd negotiator.  He leaves Indianapolis in tears and in doubt, only to re-emerge seemingly moments later, with a bevy of teams in hot pursuit and ultimately a financial deal from the Denver Broncos even larger than the one he had with the Colts.

And in courting and landing Manning, Denver Broncos’ president John Elway was able to say goodbye to Tim Tebow and all of his maniacs without looking like a villain.

Even the staunchest Tebow-maniac knows a soon-to-be healthy Peyton Manning is a better fit under center in Denver than a still very raw Tim Tebow.  And Elway knows that the very forgiving Tebow will never publicly say a bad word about the messy way all of this was handled.

Tim Tebow

Most weeks the delicious storyline that has Manning taking over the Mania would give talk show hosts and blogs more than enough to bark about.  And the speculation about where Tim Tebow might land would have been an even sweeter sports dessert.

But news that Tebow was traded to the New York Jets amid rumors that he would yet land in his hometown of Jacksonville, was quickly overshadowed by one of the most devastating sports punishments ever levied.

New Orleans Saints head coach Sean Payton is suspended one year for failing to end the bounty program he either ignored or endorsed.  It doesn’t matter which.  He will forfeit his $7.5 million salary for this indiscretion.  And the man who actually developed and oversaw the Saints bounty system, former defensive coordinator Gregg Williams, may be fighting for his career.

Sean Payton and Gregg Williams

Williams who just left the Saints to help rebuild the defensive fortunes of the St. Louis Rams was suspended indefinitely and conceivably might never coach in the NFL again.

NFL commissioner Roger Goodell wants to send the strongest message possible that bounties, which targeted opposing players for cash and prizes, will no longer be a part of the league.

Usually by the time Spring arrives, the upcoming draft and new players are the NFL’s major focus.

This year though, the change of seasons ushers in costly and needed reform to curb unsanctioned violence, and finds a way for an old school player to show the young acolyte and his followers how to really play the game.

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While the NBA trading deadline has come and gone, the news that really caught my attention and saddens me, didn’t involve a trade.  It was word that the Portland Trailblazers had finally given up on center Greg Oden.

Greg Oden

Portland waived the injury-prone seven-footer after waiting what seemed like forever for Oden to get well and stay that way.

But five years into his pro career, the NBA’s unluckiest man, literally has nothing to show for it.

Greg Oden has played a grand total of only 82 games, and has missed three entire seasons.

That Portland let him go is not exactly surprising.  Several weeks ago Oden had his third micro-fracture knee surgery, one of the most unpredictable medical procedures an athlete can undergo.

I couldn’t possibly feel worse for this young man.  Oden not long ago was considered the next Patrick Ewing, with a little bit of Hakeem Olajuwan sprinkled in for good effect.

Yes, the raw center was a work-in-progress, but in the very best way possible.  At the time of the 2007 draft he had just led Ohio State to the NCAA national championship game.  As a freshman that year he dominated the middle in a close loss to the University of Florida.   The accolades and honors followed.  He was named first team All-American and it was clear no more college games were needed.  It was time to turn pro.   He was the first pick in the NBA draft that year, just ahead of a legend in the making, Kevin Durant.   Five years ago Greg Oden’s basketball future seemed unlimited.

But now clouds have ominously darkened Oden’s once bright sky.  The former phenom will have to realistically contemplate a future without basketball.  Oden’s saga is one of sports saddest stories.

It’s a simple tale of a brittle big man with a long list of injuries to his huge body.  Oden has broken or torn something every year since he was a senior in high school.  But while the first injury, a damaged wrist, healed in time for Oden to terrorize the Big Ten, and lead Ohio State to a national title game, another injury quickly followed, causing him to miss his first season with Portland.

This is a truly heartbreaking story, not just because he had so much potential as a player, but he also seemed to be a young man with high intellect, an engaging sense of humor and insight far beyond the basketball court.  From all appearances Greg Oden is a genuinely nice guy.  The kind of guy the NBA can proudly market.

I have closely followed Greg Oden’s journey since I first heard about him dominating the high school basketball scene in Indianapolis.  During his time at Lawrence North High School, Oden led his team to three consecutive state championships.  He emerged as the number one high school player in the country.

Even now, I refuse to believe that Greg Oden will never play again in the NBA.  But  it is starting to look less and less likely with each new season and every new injury.   But if there was ever a young man who deserved the miracle of healing and a chance to finally live up to his bright promise, Greg Oden is that guy.  I’m praying for him.

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For weeks now football fans, particularly those in Indianapolis, have been preoccupied with the fate of Peyton Manning.

And now ESPN is reporting that a decision has been made.  Manning and the Colts will part ways and will officially announce the decision at a news conference at Colts headquarters on Wednesday.

As many of you know, the Colts had several options, they could have chosen to pay Manning a $28 million bonus, release him and try to negotiate a new deal, or do what ESPN is reporting: say goodbye and thanks for the memories, by letting the 14-year veteran become a free agent.

Peyton Manning Waves Goodbye

This has easily been the biggest sports decision ever made in Indiana’s capital city.  But deciding to release Manning, who has had at least four “procedures” or surgeries on his neck in two years, and didn’t play this past season, has ramifications that loom far beyond the stately, retractable roof, downtown football stadium that Manning’s greatness helped build.

Most at stake is the collective psyche of a city.  For more than a decade, despite an impressive 21^st century resume as an important sports magnet, Indianapolis feels far more relevant because of number 18.

Making Manning even more important to Hoosiers is the love he has heaped on his adopted hometown.  From all appearances this was a two-way love affair.

Peyton Manning fully embraced Indianapolis.  And the city bear-hugged him back, fully aware that most superstars in small markets tend to hit the road once the season’s over or eventually look longingly at the green grass of another place to play.

Twitter, Facebook, the newspaper and sports radio in Indianapolis have gone crazy since the season ended, with fans debating what owner Jim Irsay and the Colts should do as the clock ticked down on the contract bonus deadline.  Although Irsay desperately didn’t want to look like a villain, for weeks he tweeted and talked like he had already decided to move on to a post-Peyton Manning era, which angered many fans.

What made this decision difficult and delicate for Irsay and the Colts and even for the most loyal of Manning supporters, is the looming prospect of Manning’s potential replacement taking over – the guy many say is Manning 2.0, Stanford’s all-everything quarterback, Andrew Luck.

Some believed that Manning and Luck could have co-existed, with Luck learning the ropes as an understudy to an all-time great.  But that presumed Luck would have been willing to wait for his career to get started by sitting on the bench a year or two.  And it also assumed that Manning’s neck and throwing arm are sound.  His health status is something so far no one knows for sure except maybe Manning himself.

But while fans in several other NFL cities are salivating at the possibility that Manning, even in recovery mode, is the best new option for their teams, there will first be a period of mourning for the loss of Indianapolis’ favorite son.

No, this is not an ordinary football parting. This will be painful.  How do you say goodbye to the greatest player of any sport in Indianapolis history?  Peyton Manning helped the city of Indianapolis and its residents feel proud of him and themselves.

He made the city a winner in every way that matters.  To say he will be missed is perhaps the biggest understatement of all.

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I’ve got to admit I’m severely conflicted about the latest apparent black eye for the NFL – the Gregg Williams bounty scandal.

The NFL has always been about hard hits and knockout shots.  All-time great linebackers, Dick Butkus and Lawrence Taylor would not be in the Hall of Fame without their spectacular and sometimes vicious tackles.

Gregg Williams

Violence is the stock-in-trade of professional football.   It’s celebrated in video games, and is proudly documented by film and TV crews.  The most spectacular hits make ESPN’s Sportscenter and other highlight shows every week.

Multi-million dollar bonuses and salaries are often based on the mayhem inflicted by the league’s top headhunters.

While the nature of the game dictates that injuries will always happen, it is clearly out of bounds to deliberately do harm to another player with a so-called bounty payment as incentive.

That said bounties have a long, if undocumented, history in the NFL.   But bounties have been implicitly tolerated for years because no one talked publicly about them.   Bounties were always whispered, and speculated about, which meant the league and the commissioner never had to take action.   In other words – boys have at it, but please don’t embarrass the game.

But finally for some reason, someone snitched, and now the NFL is on high alert and ready to throw the hammer down on the New Orleans Saints and former defensive coordinator Gregg Williams.   This is happening as the NFL becomes more sensitive to concussions and other life-altering injuries suffered by players.

But where my conflict comes in, is how the NFL and commissioner Roger Goodell might respond.   The league risks looking very hypocritical if the Saints are the only team penalized and Gregg Williams the only coach possibly suspended or fined.

According to reports, bounties have been part of Gregg Williams’ defensive game plans at every team he’s had a major coaching role.  That means the Tennessee Titans, Buffalo Bills, Washington Redskins, and New Orleans Saints.   It also means dozens of players under his direction possibly dished out extra punishment over the course of many years and a number of teams – all under the public radar for unregistered cash rewards.

If reports are accurate the Saints were warned more than once by the league to cut out their bounty program.  But the Saints apparently ignored the warning.  This weekend Williams issued a public apology acknowledging his involvement, confessing that he knew the bounty system was wrong but sanctioned the bounties anyway.  His admission puts him squarely in Commissioner Goodell’s crosshairs.   We can only speculate how much of the blame will also spread to the Saints organization and head coach Sean Payton.

But what about the other teams Williams coached?  How will they be assessed?  Will they receive a pass because too much time has gone by?  Or will Williams take the fall for all of it, possibly suspended severely for what he endorsed as the Saints defensive coordinator and his role advocating bounties on the other teams he coached?

Yes, bounties look bad for the NFL, which now publicly says player safety is more important than ever.  But hard hits, and taking players out, are part of the established culture of the nation’s most popular entertainment organization.  Livelihoods are at stake, which is why players want to make the big hits.  No spectacular hits, maybe there is no big contract.  No big hits and maybe TV ratings go down.  No knockout tackles and its possible that EA Sports’ Madden Football is not the most popular sports video game of all time.

There are a lot of powerful reasons to keep the violence in the game, just so long as the viciousness doesn’t cross the line, wherever that line happens to be.

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On the night of March 2, 1962,  I was far too young to comprehend basketball’s most stunning individual accomplishment – Wilt Chamberlain’s 100 point game.

But a few years later when I could read, what I learned about that game established the foundation of my nearly unquenchable appreciation of sports.

March 2, 1962

Growing up I devoured just about everything I could about sports.  And reading the story of Wilt’s 100 points was probably the first sports treasure that truly captured my imagination.  It certainly hooked me on Wilt Chamberlain.

For those who don’t know the basic facts about that night, 50 years ago; the game was played in a little arena in Hershey, Pennsylvania. It was personally witnessed by a small crowd of just over four thousand people. It was Wilt’s third season with the Philadelphia Warriors. The opponent was the New York Knickerbockers.

Because the game was not on television and was not recorded on film, what Wilt did that night largely lives on through a box score never before or since experienced in the NBA.

Not only did Wilt score 100 points.  It was also the game in which he hit a remarkable 28 free throws on 32 attempts.  That by itself was unbelievable considering Wilt was a career 50 percent free throw shooter – not good by any measure.  It is also the NBA’s highest combined scoring game – final score Philadelphia 169 – New York 147.  It is a combined scoring mark that still stands.

1962 was also the season Wilt averaged an unprecedented 50 points and 25 rebounds per game.

Wilt Chamberlain is one of the great mythical figures of professional sports. The one and only time I ever saw him, up close and personal – long after his career was over – he seemed even taller than his listed 7 feet 1 inches.  He was indeed larger than life.

At his peak Wilt was virtually unstoppable.  He holds just about all of the game’s most jaw-dropping scoring marks – the most games scoring over 40, 50 and 60 points.  He also holds the record for the highest career rebounding average – over 22 per game during his 14-year career.  And one season, 1967-68, Wilt led the league in assists.

Was he the greatest NBA player of all-time?  These days most people believe that honor belongs to Michael Jordan.

While Wilt may not have been the best ever, he certainly heads the list as the most dominant, mythologized, and misunderstood player to ever suit up.

But for one night, he set one of sports’ most indelible standards – 100 points – a mark that just a few thousand actually witnessed, but millions more will forever recognize and celebrate.

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I’ve got to tell you, until last week I knew nothing at all about the New York Knicks’ Jeremy Lin.   But then again I wasn’t alone, none of you knew anything about him either.   What I know now is that he’s a guard from Harvard, who went undrafted, and sat the bench in Golden State last season while also spending time in the D-League, and then sat on the bench for the New York Knicks until a few days ago.

Jeremy Lin

But because he was unknown to most of us doesn’t change the fact that this is one of the best sports
stories to come along in ages.   Honestly, no hype.  Lin’s story is even better than Tebow’s.

A guy literally coming out of nowhere to become an instant star, isn’t that one of the purest things that can happen in sports?

Why has he become such a sensation?   Is it because he’s an Asian-American shining in a black man’s league? Maybe.

Could it be because he went to Harvard?  Yeah, that has something to do with it.  Who goes to Harvard and becomes a basketball star?  Okay, CBS sportscaster James Brown, was once a standout Harvard baller, but that was 40 years ago.  And JB never made it to the NBA.

Maybe it’s because Jeremy Lin plays for the New York Knicks, a franchise that hasn’t won anything since 1973, and has been searching for a star of this magnitude since Walt “Clyde” Frazier.

Maybe we’re falling all over ourselves for Jeremy Lin because he scored 38 points against Kobe Bryant and the Los Angeles Lakers, and led the Knicks to another win.

Maybe its because in his three previous games Lin went over 20 points each time, leading the Knicks to victory; and before that he was just another guy on the bench.

Watching Jeremy Lin on ESPN rain threes on the Lakers in Madison Square Garden, and then spinning in the lane for a crazy layup, while energizing a crowd of fans who’ve had very little to cheer about for years and years – was pretty amazing.

Watching Carmelo Anthony, the woefully, underachieving “superstar” standing on the sidelines in street clothes injured and cheering, made pulling for Jeremy Lin feel even better.    If a “nobody” like Jeremy Lin can play so spectacularly well and help the Knicks win games, why hasn’t Carmelo?

Let me ask again… Who is Jeremy Lin?  Where has he been hiding?  Why weren’t the
Knicks using him prior to this week? Yeah, all we have are a lot of questions right now.

But you know what, the NBA needed this.  New York City and the Knicks needed this.  More
importantly sports in general needed this feel-good story, the sports version of Cinderella.

Let’s just hope its a long time before the clock strikes midnight.   Better yet, let’s hope midnight never comes.

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