USA! USA! USA! USA!

The wife scored us another set of free sporting event tickets through her school for the dozenth time this summer.  This time, it was for the USA vs. Sweden Women's Soccer game.  The game was played at the Creighton University soccer field and was the first time that Team USA has played soccer in Nebraska.

Since kickoff wasn't until 8:00 pm, we only stayed for the first half of play.  It was our first experience with a soccer game in person and we both left pleased that we'd went, but sure that we never would have gone had the tickets not been free.

Everyone knows soccer is a low-scoring, high-boredom game with sporadic bursts of excitement. 

Not once did I see this:

Nor did this ever occur:

Or this.

So, during the 40 minutes of down time during the 45 minute first half of the game, I decided to be a problem solver and come up with some ways to make soccer more exciting.

Option 1:  "The Duel"

This option is fairly simple:  every game would now be played with TWO soccer balls in play at all times.  We may need to tinker with the number of players on the field (probably add 2-4 players per team), but there should only be one goalie on the field.  That is non-negotiable.


Option 2:  "The Red Rover"


At any time during a game, two teammates can connect hands, yell "Red Rover", and run at an opposing player who may or may not be in possession of the ball at the time.  If the two Red Rovers can knock the opponent to the ground, they take over possession of the ball and get an immediate free kick from the spot the opponent was knocked to the ground.  However, if the opponent can break through the Red Rover attack, that person gets an immediate penalty shot, one-on-one versus the goalie. 


There may need to be a few caveats to add in later, but the gist of this rule change is solid in my opinion.


Option 3:  "The Freezer"


Each team would have a player (who we'll call the Freezer) who is on the field the entire game.  This player will wear a brightly colored jersey to differentiate them from the rest of their team.  The Freezer will wear a special contraption that straps their feet together in a way that forces them to hop around the field.  At any point during the game, if the Freezer touches an opponent, that player is frozen in place until the soccer ball passes through their legs.  (We may need to have the Freezer's hands be covered in chalk or paint or something else that would prove that they touched an opponent).  Also, the goalie could never be frozen.  That would just be crazy.

As you can see, there are many different ways to spice up the game of soccer without compromising its integrity, but these aren't the only changes that can be made.  What kind of changes to the rules of soccer (or any other sport) would you like to see?

Draft Talk

I'm not much of a football fan.  Don't get me wrong, I love to watch games and I root for the Broncos when they are on broadcast television, but I couldn't tell you who their left tackle is, nor could I tell you who is their offensive and/or defensive coordinator.  I don't follow the team (or any sports team for that matter) very closely.

So, when I heard through Facebook and Twitter (no way I watch the draft, since it's both on cable television, which I don't have, and really boring) that the Denver Broncos selected Tim Tebow, the "controversial" quarterback from Florida, with one of their first round draft picks, I didn't really care one way or another.

Some people were disappointed in this selection because apparently the Broncos already have two young quarterbacks (I only knew of the one quarterback, Kyle Orton, because he was there last year, but I have come to find out that somehow or other a fellow by the name of Brady Quinn is also a Bronco QB).  Since the Broncos are not desperate for a young quarterback, some people felt that the pick could have been used more wisely.

Other people like the decision to take Tebow.  Some like his character and leadership characteristics.  Some like that he is one of the most athletically gifted guys to come out of this years draft.  Other people feel that this selection will create great competition at the quarterback position, which they hope will lead to the emergence of "The Next Elway".

But me, I really didn't care one way or another.  At least I didn't care until I read this story in the Boston Herald:

A Boston sports-radio host yesterday likened former Heisman Trophy winner Tim Tebow’s NFL draft party to a “Nazi rally,” a remark one media observer called an “amazing double standard.”

Fred “Toucher” Toettcher said yesterday on 98.5 The Sports Hub, “It looked like some kind of Nazi rally. . . . So lily-white is what I’m trying to say. Yeah, Stepford Wives.”

And I am now a Tim Tebow fan.  Did the sports jock misspeak?  I'm sure he did.  But anyone who can get some pissed-off liberal (I assume) sports-talk Mass-hole flustered just for being alive is a friend of mine.  I may be compelled to get a Tebow Broncos jersey just for the divisive properties such a jersey would hold.

And it is especially fitting that the person who wore the #15 Broncos jersey last year, Brandon Marshall, was an amazing athlete but possessed and/or displayed little to no leadership abilities throughout the season, despite his being one of the most important offensive position players on the team.  So the Broncos traded Marshall and will be replacing his #15 with another #15 who is, in the minds of many, will be a greater leader/character than he will be an NFL quarterback, Mr. Timothy Tebow.

Baseball Card Bubble

I'm not an economist, but I play one online.  One of the things about economics that fascinates me are "bubbles" within an economy. 

My wife and I barely got out of the recent "housing bubble" just before it burst and the housing market went to hell.  While we ended up losing around $2000 (if not more, I don't remember the numbers at this moment) on our house, at least we got it sold before we came out to Omaha.  We got lucky and we made a wise decision, because in all reality, we could still be the owners of a home in different state than the one in which we are living.

So, while I have a little bit of life experience with regard to "bubbles", I should probably have more.  I missed (or wasn't paying attention) to the "Tech Bubble" of the late 1990s, nor did I feel much pain within the current financial recession/bubble.  With that said, there was one "bubble burst" that occurred during my lifetime that has had a lasting and impacting effect on me personally:  The Baseball (and, in my case, Basketball) Card Bubble Burst of the 1990s.

Last month, Slate printed an excerpt of Dave Jamieson's book Mint Condition: How Baseball Cards Became an American Obsession.  While Mr. Jamieson's book focuses on the baseball card bubble, I can attest that the same thing was happening in the basketball card market, which is where me and my friends invested our money during our preteen years, and, unfortunately, we had entered the market when it was in its decent during the mid-90s.

By the '80s, baseball card values were rising beyond the average hobbyist's means. As prices continued to climb, baseball cards were touted as a legitimate investment alternative to stocks, with the Wall Street Journal referring to them as sound "inflation hedges" and "nostalgia futures." Newspapers started running feature stories with headlines such as "Turning Cardboard Into Cash" (the Washington Post), "A Grand Slam Profit May Be in the Cards" (the New York Times), and "Cards Put Gold, Stocks to Shame as Investment" (the Orange County Register). A hobby bulletin called the Ball Street Journal, claiming entrée to a network of scouts and coaches, promised collectors "insider scouting information" that would help them invest in the cards of rising big-league prospects. Collectors bought bundles of rookie cards as a way to gamble legally on a player's future.

Unfortunately for investors, each one of those cards was being printed in astronomical numbers. The card companies were shrewd enough never to disclose how many cards they were actually producing, but even conservative estimates put the number well into the billions. One trade magazine estimated the tally at 81 billion trading cards per year in the late '80s and early '90s, or more than 300 cards for every American annually.

Precious few collectors seemed to ponder the possibility that baseball cards could depreciate. As the number of card shops in the United States ballooned to 10,000, dealers filled their storage rooms with unopened cases of 1988 Donruss as if they were Treasury bills or bearer bonds. Shops were regularly burglarized, their stocks of cards taken as loot. In early 1990, a card dealer was found bludgeoned to death behind the display case in his shop in San Luis Obispo, Calif., with $10,000 worth of cards missing. A few weeks later, Bob Engel, a respected National League umpire, was arrested for allegedly stealing more than 4,180 Score baseball cards, worth $143.98, from a Target store in Bakersfield, Calif., and attempting to steal another 50 packs from a Costco.

(...)

In 1989, the Upper Deck Co. would transform the industry with flashy, high-priced cards aimed at investment-minded collectors. As the sales of new sports cards swelled to more than $1 billion a year, children began to flee the hobby, turned off by the pricey packs and confounding number of sets. The baseball strike of 1994 ushered in an industrywide hangover that still hasn't ended. Revenues from new sports cards have fallen to around $200 million a year, roughly one-seventh of what they were at their peak. While vintage cards like the T206 Honus Wagner and the 1952 Topps Mickey Mantle have continued to soar in value, baseball card's boom times produced no such valuable merchandise. Those 1988 Donruss cards, once considered a savvy investment, can now be bought in bulk for around 1 cent apiece.

{Emphasis mine}

Mr. Jamieson brings up some very important points that take me back to my card collecting hayday.

He says that "unfortunately for investors, each one of those cards was being printed in astronomical numbers."  Even as a kid, I had figured out that many of my cards could be worth more money if it they weren't so easy to come by.  I would open pack after pack of cards, only to end up with maybe one or two unique cards and a boatload of duplicates. 

I collected basketball cards fanatically for about 4 years in the mid-90s, and the fruits of that labor has been distilled into one shoe box of cards that I consider to be worth keeping around.  I continue to drag that box around mostly because of sentimental value and not because I hope that one day they may become monetarily valuable.  (Ah, who am I kidding?  Of course I hope that I'll be able to take that box to the Antiques Road Show and be surprised when one of those cards is appraised at thousands of dollars.  Every kid who ever collected cards has this hope deep down inside of them.)

And, as Mr. Jamieson points out, I was one of those children who fled the card collecting market because I was being priced out of the market.  And, looking back, it kind of pisses me off that that happened.  In the years before I left, the lure of finding a "gem" of a card (rookie, autograph, etc.) was the driving force when buying pack after pack of cards.  By the time I'd left collecting, the trading card companies had taken all of the work out of getting these cards by pulling them out of the standard packs, and instead sold packs of cards that were "guaranteed" to contain one high priced card.  But, the catch was that these packs of five to ten cards cost $20 or more.

In addition to being priced out of the "unique" cards of the time, the market was also getting completely saturated with card companies.  During Michael Jordan's rookie season, there was one card company, which meant that there was one Michael Jordan rookie cards, which meant that it was a rare and valuable card.  However, ten years later when Kobe Bryant was a rookie, there were at least six major card companies (and each with countless different branches/brands within a company) putting out Kobe Bryant rookie cards, which meant there were literally hundreds of different Kobe Bryant rookie cards in the market.  And it was like that for every other player in the league. 

As I've mentioned before, my favorite player in the NBA was John Stockton, which meant his cards were the ones I sought out the most.  I have a couple hundred unique cards of his, and I didn't even collect during the final 10 years of his career.  (I have however picked up a few of his later cards in the past few years.)  The only cards that I would actively seek to purchase would be one of his rookie cards or an autograph card. 

One advantage to collecting his cards and not those of, say, Michael Jordan or Kobe Bryant or Lebron James, is that I would hypothesize that his smaller fan base lead to a reduction of John Stockton cards in the market.  Where everyone who has kept their cards over the years made sure to keep their Jordan/Bryant/James cards, if they ever did throw out cards, 2nd tier players would have been the first to be thrown away.  And every Stockton card that is taken out of the card collecting community makes mine that much more valuable. 

Just as in baseball cards, the basketball card market tanked in the late 1990s due to over-saturation and artificially high prices ("unique" cards that weren't really that unique) and a dwindling fan base.  I would say that there was a correlation between my fandom of card collecting and my interest in the NBA:  when I stopped collecting cards, I stopped caring about the NBA. 

It's a terrible shame, but a great lesson in economics: the card companies were short sighted and thought that interest in their product would continue forever.  Rather than building their industry with the idea of "life-long collectors", they sought to increase their current sales no matter how it affected their futures. 

Getting away from the business side of card collecting, I wonder if the internet has improved or ruined the personal aspect of card collecting.  When I was a kid, the only people who I could trade cards with were the only two other people I knew who traded cards, my friends BJ and Eric.  We would haggle, barter, and trade cards for hours at a time.  I wonder if anyone does that anymore when you can put your cards online for the world to bid on.  Then again, it has never been easier to get into contact with other collectors, even if they never come face to face.

I will admit that writing about my card collection has lead me to go dig them out of a box in the garage.  So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to relive my youth for a few moments as I look through my inventory. 

NBA blues

When I was growing up in the late 80s and early 90s, the most important and impressive athletes in my mind were those of the NBA.  I collected basketball trading cards.  I wore the jerseys of my favorite players.  I had the walls of my bedroom covered in their posters and pennants.  If you were to ask me (up until I got into high school) what I was going to be when I grew up, my answer would have been NBA basketball player.

My friends and I would spend hours and hours after school shooting hoops.  We'd recreate dunk contests.  We'd play in the high schooler's pick-up games at the elementary school.  When I wasn't playing ball with my friends, I was constantly working on my dribbling skills. I'd walk up and down the sidewalk in front of our house, bouncing the ball though my legs, behind my back, and crossing-over in front of me.  I would practice bounce passes against walls.  I would lay on the living room floor practicing my shooting form by "shooting" the ball into the air.

I loved NBA basketball.  My hero was John Stockton (who, incidentally, is still one of the three "celebrities" I would give up a years salary for the opportunity to spend a day with them.  The other two would probably be Carter Beauford and Justin Timberlake) and would always pretend we were teammates while I shot hoops.  I loved that he was so unselfish with the rock (all time assists leader) and was also a lethal defender (all time steals leader).  I loved when he and Karl Malone would pick apart teams with their pick-and-roll.  I loved that his short shorts, and I loved that he continued to wear them long after everyone else went baggy.  I loved that he played with no fear, setting picks and screens on players twice his size.  I loved his number 12, and always tried to get that number for my basketball jersey.  I even made my family drive me past the Delta Center when we traveled through Salt Lake City, so I could see where they played.  I would have died to get in and see them play live.  I watched the 1992 summer Olympics just to see the Dream Team play (of which he was a member).  I nearly died when he was named one of the 50 Greatest NBA players of all time. 

I loved that he avoided the media.  I loved that he treated basketball like a job.  He was professional, proficient, and effective.  He didn't showboat.  He saw the court better than any player I was ever able to watch.  His vision and accuracy were amazing.  His toughness and durability were phenomenal.  He didn't live a flashy life, on or off the court.  He went to an unknown college (Gonzaga), played for the same team for his entire career.  He would consistently turn down better offers from other teams, and even agreed to take less money to free up salary-cap room.  

He and Malone lead the Jazz to the playoffs throughout the late 80s and into the 90s.  And I can still feel the pain I felt when they lost to the Bulls in two consecutive years in the Finals.  It crushed me.  After Stockton and the Jazz lost in the 1998 NBA championship finals, my love of the game diminished rapidly.  I was in high school, so I had little time to collect trading cards or watch any of their 80+ games during the regular season.   And I couldn't have been happier to see Stockton inducted into the NBA Hall of Fame last year, but many people didn't notice, because he was, once again, overshadowed by Micheal Jordan. 

I rooted for players like Stockton, Malone, David Robinson, Tim Duncan, Clyde Drexler, and Chris Mullen because they played basketball the way I felt it should be played, with fundamentals like the pick-and-roll, the bounce pass, and man-to-man defense.  As the years went by, it seemed to me that the league was becoming less and less about the teams and more about the players.  Players bounced around from team to team.  Contracts became outrageous.  Fewer players from the John Stockton mold (Jason Kidd, Steve Nash come to mind) were featured in the league.  Instead, it became a contest to name the next Micheal Jordan (Kevin Garnett, Kobe Bryant, Lebron James).  


So it came as no surprise to me to hear this week that the league was set to lose $400 million dollars and the All-Star game, while being played in front of the largest crowd in attendance, had the second lowest television ratings ever.  And there is talk that the league will enter the second player lockout in a 12 year span if a new collective bargaining agreement isn't reached by the 2011 season.  What a shame.

It seems that the NBA is in a tailspin from being the premier professional sports league in America into the laughing stock of the sports world.  The league has lost its way and I don't know if they'll be able to right the ship in time.  And I have a hard time caring if they do.

__________________________________________________________
Favorite song on the iPod Shuffle:  "That Was A Crazy Game of Poker" by OAR
Looking forward to:  Baseball season.  The pitchers and catchers reported to spring training this week, which means I'm that much closer to $1 beer night at Rosenblat Stadium.
Thinking back on:  where I put my basketball cards when we moved last year.  I might have to dig those out and relive the joy of trading cards from my youth.

"Well, he's been sticking his hand up my butt for eleven years."

"So we're pretty close."

The perfect combination

When I saw this commercial from Visa for the first time, it took every bit of will power I could muster to keep tears from rolling down my face.  By layering such elements as Morgan Freeman's stoic voice behind the emotions provided by the Olympics Games and a tragic death paired with the agony of defeat ultimately being triumphed by the thrill of victory and the joy of parenthood, Visa created a very touching and motivational thirty seconds.  



I can't wait to see what stories emerge from the Winter Games next month.

Teens Turning Green

A former high school classmate of mine, and current professional beach volleyball player, Brittany Hochevar, is one of six AVP pros participating in the Athletes for Hope charity campaign.

Six top AVP athletes are stepping up to champion a charitable cause as part of Athletes for Hope’s ongoing “Who Gives?” campaign. An online fundraising challenge entitled “Racing for a Cause” is a virtual race for charity representing a larger call to action for athletes around the world to show support for causes they are most passionate about. 

(Brittany Hochevar) will compete with 60 other professional athletes spanning various sports and levels of play. Steve Nash, Lance Armstrong, Muhammad Ali, Jeff Gordon, Mia Hamm and Tony Hawk are among other athletes participating in the fundraising challenge.

Brittany's charity of choice is the "Teens Turning Green" campaign which "is a teen led campaign to inspire, inform and empower teens to eliminate toxic exposures from their daily lives, schools, and communities."

Nebraska Football

As I sit here watching the Nebraska Cornhuskers play the Texas Longhorns for the Big12 championship, it occurred to me that the past two quarters were the first two quarters of Nebraska I've ever watched.  In my life.  Ever. 

I'm not much of a college football fan.  It's not that I don't like college football.  I do.  But I don't have an allegiance to any college football teams, so I don't follow any teams throughout the season.  And college football is mostly played on Saturdays, which is when I'm usually playing golf.  And having grown up in Colorado, I was raised to believe that the Huskers are the enemy.

It also doesn't help that their colors are red and white, which were the colors of our biggest high school football rivalry, so now, when I see someone wearing red and white, I quickly determine they are the enemy.  And because I'm a contrarian, when the office holds casual Fridays during football season and everyone is wearing their Nebraska gear, I refuse to participate.  I wear my golf polos each Friday and sit smuggly at my desk snickering at my anti-establishment stance.

And the biggest reason I don't like Husker football is because in Nebraska, the only topic that the local sports radio hosts and callers talk about is Husker football.  Last year, after such a lousy season, I figured the sports radio hosts would be able to find another topic to talk about, but no.  They had to break down next season's recruiting class.  And then they had to break down the spring ball performances.  And then summer ball.  And then two-a-days.  And then ever game they're going to play this season.  They every game they've played.  ALL DAY LONG!  EVERY DAY!!!  Husker football.

It's not that I blame the fine citizens of Nebraska for the fanaticism for the Huskers.  They have nothing else.  There are no professional sports teams in the state and no other major colleges in the state to route for.  Their sports lives revolve around Husker football.

As a sports fan, I was spoiled.  Living in Colorado, it is almost professional sports overload.  With major sports teams in football, basketball, baseball, hockey, lacrosse, soccer, and arena football, a sports fan is presented with a smorgasbord of opportunities.  But in Nebraska, not so much.

So, with all that said, here are some thoughts on the game:

• Ndamukong Suh is a freak of nature.  The guy had 5 sacks (4 of which were solo).  He helped the defense hold the Longhorns to only 202 yards of offense and 13 points when the Horns had been averaging 40+ points and 450+ yards per game.  Nebraska gave a great defensive performance that kept McCoy confused and ineffective all game.
  

• As effective as the defense was, the offense was equally as inept.  104 yards of total offense?  Are you kidding me?  The only reason the game was so close was because the defense was so dominant and the had some big special teams plays.  This was a close game in spite of the offense.
  

• McCoy just about hosed his team out of a chance at playing in the national championship game.  I have no idea what he was thinking on the last play of the game, but why he let the game clock get so close to zero is beyond me.  They won this game by the skin of their teeth.   
  

• Watching the local post-game coverage, the on-the-scene reporter could not have been more of a Nebraska "homer" than if he was Bo Palini's son.  He spent about 5 minutes talking about two topics: why he thinks Suh should be the Heisman winner and hinting/suggesting not so subtly that the refs were colluding to ensure that Texas won the game. 

The outcome of this game is going to be dissected ad nausium over the next 8-9 months, until the start of next season.  As bad as Nebraska sports talk was in the past, it just got worse as every single play and decision will be questioned over and over as the fans try to figure out why Nebraska didn't win.  There will be the conspiracy theorists who will blame the refs for the loss.  There will be the "Suh for Heisman" callers.

But in spite of this over analyzing, I have a new found respect for the players and coaches of Nebraska, and I will try not to avoid all things Nebraska next season.  I will push aside the schadenfreude I used to have toward Nebraska, as Husker players have it tougher than most, as their success or failure on the field is the success or failure of an entire state.  That's a ton of pressure for a group of young men to experience.  Plus, maybe if I start rooting for them, and they have success, talk radio will be easier to handle as less play by play dissections usually occur after a victorious season.

The Wizard of Westwood

Today is the 99th birthday of the greatest basketball coach of all time and, in my opinion, one of the greatest men to have lived during the 20th Century, John Wooden.

John Wooden was the coach of the UCLA Bruins from 1948 to 1975.  During his tenure at UCLA, Coach Wooden lead his team to 10 NCAA championships in an 11 year span.  The next closest coaches have each won 3 championships.  He had a career winning percentage of 80% (664 wins with 180 loses).  He was the first person to be enshrined in the Basketball Hall of Fame as both a player and a coach, an honor that only two other people have accomplished.

The LA Times has an excellent article in celebration of his 99th birthday, where they inform of 99 things about John Wooden.

Yet all of these accomplishments pale in comparison to who he was as a man and the way he lived his life as a husband, coach, and teacher.

I first learned about Coach Wooden 30+ years after he retired from coaching.  I was in college and stumbled upon a television show on PBS entitled "Values, Victory, and Peace of Mind".  In this program, John presents his philosophy for success in life.  He gives a history of his childhood, his early teaching career, and his success as a basketball coach.  During this show, he walks the viewer through the genesis and development of what would eventually be called the Pyramid of Success. 

Following the program, I went to the bookstore and found a copy of the book "Wooden: A Lifetime of Observations and Reflections On and Off the Court".  This book would become my foundation for my brief, but successful, career as an elementary school teacher.  I learned more about pedagogy and classroom management from this book than I did in 5 years at a teacher college.

Because of my libertarian world view, I structured my classroom differently than most of my co-workers.  I didn't want to have to police my students or my classroom, so I did not have "rules" in the traditional sense.  Rules are made to be broken, the saying goes, and when a rule is broken, it is not a good thing.  So instead, I set up goals, with built in supports for reaching those goals, because when a goal is "broken", it is a good thing.  And when a goal isn't met, it is a teaching opportunity; it is a time for learning.

While I always had this classroom "management" philosophy in the back of my mind, it wasn't until I read the "Wooden" book that I was able to figure out how to implement it into my classroom.  The first two years of teaching, I read out of the book to my class, but it never seemed to quite work out like I'd envisioned it.  The concepts were too abstract for them.  The pyramid was built with words that they couldn't understand.  So, I was pleased to discover, before my third year, that John Wooden had taken his previous books and had developed them into a children's book, "Inch and Miles: The Journey to Success".

The first two weeks of my third year in teaching were structured around the reading and discussing of this book.  Each day we read about and discussed each of the blocks of the Pyramid of Success, and then added each block to a bulletin board on our back wall, which we would refer back to often throughout the rest of the year.

Using Coach Wooden's simplified definition of success, trying their hardest to be the best they could possibly be, I hoped to help them develop a self-awareness and the ability to reflect on their effort, to determine on their own whether or not they were successful.  I didn't want them to rely on other people to determine their success.  I wanted them to know in their hearts and minds whether or not they were successful.

Coach Wooden is a man filled with wisdom.  His books and speeches give us a glimpse of the mind of one of the greatest motivators of our time.  

So, happy birthday Coach Wooden.