The Finale

This column was originally published in the Volume 6 - Issue 12 - April 18, 2007 edition of the award-winning Cardinal Courier

So, it’s come down to this, my final column in the Cardinal Courier. And this one is going to be all about the man behind Riding the Pine: me (break out the Kleenex, because this one could get emotional).

Some of you may have not realized I was a senior (due to my boyish good looks), but I am. I have only written for the Courier for 3 years though, because I joined my sophomore year. My first duty at the Courier was to write movie reviews with my friend Luke, which was a pretty sweet gig even though I’m still waiting to get reimbursed for those films. But, it was still fun and it helped to introduce me to the Courier community. (This reminds me, Democrat and Chronicle, if you’re looking for a new movie reviewer, I will work for cheap).

Both the Courier and the campus itself, has changed immensely throughout my tenure here. For example, does anyone else remember the beach volleyball area outside Haffey? Or how about when you could get late night dining at the Fishbowl at 7, instead of 8? And believe it or not freshmen, that giant construction zone in the center of campus used to be a nice little spot called Lavery Lawn. A place where people could toss a disc around, play a round of frolf (frisbee-golf) or just hang out by the picnic tables.

That last part may seem a little negative, but I’m just doing something that we all do: reminisce on good times. When I look back at my time here, I’ll block out most of the negative stuff and remember the little things that trigger those good memories. There’s the “drunk stairs” from freshman year, there’s the time Haffey 3 exploded after Aaron Boone’s homerun buried the Red Sox. And then there’s the Unicorns of Death floor hockey squad, the addition of buffalo chicken in the omelets, the intense racquetball matches and the New York trip with the Courier staff.

Ah, good times.

It’s nice to look back and rediscover everything I’ve written for the Courier. My movie reviews, my plead for an on-campus bar and of course the entire Riding the Pine catalogue. It’s been a good year for you benchwarmers (that’s what I’m going to start calling my fan base). In past issues, I’ve predicted the future, voiced my displeasure over the Sabres slug logo, I’ve defended A-Rod and offended T.O. I’ve crossed the border of rowdiness with rival Nazareth (and mocked their affection for purple shirts and wine coolers), I’ve dreamt of Rick Jeanneret narrating my life and I’ve demonstrated the true greatness of mascots. I’ve made some of the most obscure references I could think up, including a sporting Facebook, Darkwing Duck and The Mole. And now it’s come to this, my farewell column.

I’ll still have a Riding the Pine blog (http://ridingthepinesports.blogspot.com/), that has all my past columns and anything new I want to add, but it’s not the same as having my designated spot near Extra Innings in the Courier’s sports section. This makes me realize that even with all the change on campus and at the Courier, I have changed too. Sure, some things are the same. I’m still a twin, I’m still a World Champion (Odyssey of the Mind 2003), I’m still a fan of the Sabres, Bills and Yankees (and I still like to use parentheses when I write). But I know this place has made me a better writer, a smarter individual and dare I say, a better person.

As George Costanza would say, showmanship is important and leaving on a high note always leaves the audience wanting more. After a killer joke, he would say, “that’s it for me” and he would make his triumphant exit.

It’s now time for me to make my exit, so to St. John Fisher I say…
That’s it for me.

Mascot Mania

This column was originally published in the Volume 6 - Issue 11 - April 4, 2007 edition of the award-winning Cardinal Courier

You enter the arena and the crowd goes wild. You raise your hands in the air and signal for the audience to reach an apex of craziness. You’re impossibly hot, sweating profusely, but there’s pandemonium all around you and you feed off that. Children love you, the drunk guys in the upper deck love you and women especially love you.

So who are you?

You’re one of the most underrated parts of a sports franchise, you’re the mascot.

Think about it. Mascots are always fun, they do cool tricks and often have hilarious names.

What crowd doesn’t get pumped up when they see Sabretooth propel down from the roof of HSBC Arena before a Sabres game? Or see the Phoenix Suns Gorilla leap through a flaming hoop to throw down a vicious jam?

In some ways the mascot can be the face of a franchise as much as a star player. The mascot is just one of the fans, whether it be the rowdy, shirtless type relentlessly high-fiving others, or the family-friendly type. Plus you’ll never see a mascot leaving through free agency or blasting the team and city after they leave (cough… McGahee…cough). In college athletics the athletes have a maximum shelf life of four years, so long time fans identify the most with the coaches and the school in general (which I like to think is represented by the mascot). The two biggest stars for the Syracuse hoops team has to be: Jim Boeheim number one and Otto the Orange number two.

Of course, there is a chance that the person behind the costume is a jerk. But that doesn’t matter because it’s not about the him/her that dons that uniform, but what that costume represents. It represents the fans and having a good time. And even if the person wearing that costume is an outstanding person, they won’t be recognized in public. For instance, did you know the Suns Gorilla is actually a man named Bob Woolf? Or that David Raymond was the original Phillie Phanatic? You don’t know their names, but their characters are in the Mascot Hall of Fame (along with the San Diego Chicken and a few others).

As I mentioned in my Sabres column a few weeks ago, I love some of the zany names of these mascots (like Sparky the Dragon for the Islanders), but I feel some mascots could be improved to maximize the sheer coolness of their potential.

Let’s start with Anaheim Duck mascot. Now I know they aren’t Mighty any more, but the franchise is missing a key opportunity here. They should step it up and announce Darkwing Duck as their newest mascot. A Ducks game would be a must-see if they had Darkwing swinging from the rafters (and possibly battling NegaDuck too). Awesome.

And what’s up with the Montreal Canadiens mascot Youppi? He’s just an outcast from the defunct Expos. How about an ice-skating Mountie as a mascot that knows how to lay down the law. The San Antonio Spurs need a change too. Currently their team is represented by a coyote that wears a Tim Duncan jersey and sports two giant green orbs as its eyes. It may as well be named: Rabies, the child-scaring mascot. They should have a cowboy, or even something simple as a giant spur. There’s no reason to have an animal as a mascot just because it seems simpler.

In fact that’s what this column is missing. If you have any good costume ideas then send me an email because the Riding the Pine mascot is going to be the next great sports figure. Just don’t ask it to jump through a flaming hoop.

2001: A Riding The Pine Odyssey

This column was originally published in the Volume 6 - Issue 10 - March 21, 2007 edition of the award-winning Cardinal Courier

If you’ve ever watched Late Night with Conan O’Brien, then I’m sure you’re familiar with the running gig where Conan and a guest predict the near future as La Bomba provides the high-pitched title: “In the year 2000…” Well, this skit got me thinking about what the future of the sporting world looks like. Since Conan is an avid reader of my column, I’ll avoid angering him by calling this segment of Riding the Pine: “In the year 2001…” (You’re welcome NBC).

In the year 2001… both the Buffalo Bills and the Baltimore Ravens will get a deal from the Willis McGahee trade. The Bills will deploy a running back-by-committee system that will be able to do things that McGahee couldn’t (catch passes, pass protect and learn the playbook). Plus there’s the fact the McGahee seemed to hate the city of Buffalo and playing for the Bills. This certainly doesn’t fit into general manager Marv Levy’s ideal type of player and into his overall master plan for the Bills. In Marv I trust!

McGahee is still a very talented back (although not quite the same guy that dominated collegiate defenses in Miami) and he should have a strong season carrying the load for the Ravens. And as an added bonus, the lawyers in Baltimore have to be excited with the prospects of dealing with several paternity against McGahee. Eventually, he will become Flavor Flav’s successor on Flavor of Love 2: Women Who Love Neck Tattoos.

In the year 2001… not to be out done by McGahee, Tom Brady will continue his own streak of illegitimate children when it’s discovered that Patriot Pat is pregnant.

In the year 2001… director of athletics at Princeton University and the chair of the Division I Men's Basketball Committee Gary Walters will be relieved of his duties as the committee leader when a it’s discovered that he forgot to add Syracuse to the bracket simply because he was hungover after a night of partying in Vegas with Titans DB Pac-Man Jones.

In the year 2001… a Cinderella team (similar George Mason in 2006) will do the unthinkable and win the NCAA tournament causing Dick Vitale’s head to simultaneously combust. Actually, I’m mentioning Vitale because I think the criticism of him is sometimes unfair. He brings the same type of enthusiasm as Rick Jeanneret does to hockey games. His catch phrases can still be fun (who doesn’t love the occasional, “yeah baby!”) and he has extensive knowledge of the game. I don’t watch all his games, so maybe my Dickie V. tolerance is higher than others and his perceived bias in favor of Duke doesn’t seem true to me. And, there is also a slight chance that I might be related to him (My mother’s maiden name is Vitale and rumor has it he once called my grandparents).

In the year 2001… Ottawa Senators goon Chris Neil will once again injury a star player with a cheap shot… this time with a flamethrower that he brought on to the ice. However, he leaves the ordeal with no suspension and a fine of $4.99 (roughly the price of a happy meal) because NHL commissioner Gary Bettman and Senior Vice President and Director of Hockey Operations Colin Campbell decide that the incident wasn’t Neil’s fault but instead the other players fault, “because his helment wasn’t on properly and because he failed to wear a flame retardent jersey.”

In the year 2001… Facebook will expand to the sporting world with an exclusive network for athletes. Unfortunately, this will cause some problems after Kobe Bryant and Shaq get into a “poke war” and Willis McGahee sends Maria Sharapova the ambiguous box with a hole for Christmas. Justin Timberlake would approve of this gift as well.

In the year 2001… ABC reinstates Anderson Cooper’s reality show The Mole with a sports theme. The theme of the show will remain the same: each team will have a “mole” someone who tries to do just enough to sabotage the team without being detected. Of course, it’s no surprise when it’s revealed that Alex Rodriguez is the mole and has been ever since his arrival in the Bronx.

In the year 2001… I win the award for goofiest looking mug shot in a column, but I fail to pick up the award because I made the mistake of scheduling my flight with JetBlue.

State of the Sabres Address

We’ve seen this before. Right, Sabres fans?

At the rate Buffalo’s players are going down with injuries, they’re going to have to lace some skates on Sabretooth and have him play defense (and this reminds me, the NHL has by far the best set of mascots, even if some of them make no sense. For example, the Islanders’ Sparky the Dragon, Carolina’s Stormy the Ice Hog and Toronto’s Carlton the Bear are all not only funny, but also child friendly).

Once again, the rash of injuries has struck some high-profile Sabres. Most noticeably, is the recent injury to one of the league’s most electrifying players: Maxim Afinogenov. Afinogenov’s broken wrist will sideline him for at least six weeks and he might not see the ice again before the playoffs. Losing one of their top playmakers will definitely hurt Buffalo’s chance at a President’s Cup (awarded to the club with the best regular season record), but shouldn’t affect the team’s ultimate goal of winning a Stanley Cup. After all, Afinogenov managed to score the equalizer goal against the Oilers after he broke his wrist.

Other injured Sabres such as Jaroslav Spacek and Jiri Novotny should also be back for what is hopefully a long playoff run. But the major blow is Paul Gaustad’s sliced tendon that will shelf him for the season. There’s no doubt that the Sabres will miss Gaustad’s punishing style of play and his rapport with linemate and co-Captain Chris Drury. If the Sabres are going to make a trade before the Feb. 27 deadline, they would most likely need to acquire a physical forward to replace Gaustad or a veteran defender to supply leadership and stability to Buffalo’s blueliners.

Of course, they don’t have to necessarily make a trade (especially considering their tight salary cap situation). They dealt with key injuries all of last year and still finished near the top of the standings. The plague of injuries that rifled through Buffalo’s defensive corps did eventually catch up with them though and it opened the door for Carolina to bring the Cup to NASCAR land. I have an idea to stop these injuries: for the next season of 24, Tom Golisano could hire Jack Bauer to protect the Sabres from both injuries and a terrorist cell made up of Zdeno Chara look-a-likes (tell me you wouldn’t tune in for that). While he’s at it, Jack could convince Gary Bettman to introduce hockey cheerleaders into the mix.

Even if Jack Bauer can’t keep Buffalo’s roster healthy, there’s still not reason to panic. If Tim Connolly (who’s currently sporting the Brittany Spears shaved head look) can successfully return from the nasty injuries he suffered against Ottawa last postseason, then Buffalo will have added firepower to shoot down the rest of the league’s major contenders. Plus call-ups like Drew Stafford can help to get the job done.

So what if the Predators traded for Peter Forsberg? That’s not the kind of move the Sabres need to make anyway. If Nashville does happen to topple the Sharks, Wings and the Ducks (formerly known as Mighty) and make it out of Western Conference, they will still be having nightmares of their 7-2 home thrashing at the hands of the Sabres back on Dec. 21.

As for the Eastern Conference competition, I still think the Sabres have the upper edge. They have more depth than the Thrashers, more experience than the Penguins and they have a history of playoff mastery against Ottawa. As for the Devils and their trap style of defense, the way I see it is that their seemingly superhuman goalie Martin Brodeur will be worn out by playoff time.

One more Sabres note, is there a play-by-play man who is more worthy of calling a Cup-clinching game than Rick Jeanneret? Jeanneret, alongside the always-reliable Jim Lorentz, adds an element of excitement to the game that few others can. In fact, if I could have one person narrate my life it would definitely be Jeanneret. I would run around getting into fights just to hear his brilliant play-by-play (“Pukos just threw down his books and…wait… now he’s headed after the girl with the scooter, holy mackerel!”)

Still, the question remains: can these Sabres slug the competition and win it all? We won’t know until June, but either way these guys are still, as Jeanneret would say, “good, scary good.”

From the Feb. 21 2007 (Vol. 6 issue 9) of the Cardinal Courier

Behind Enemy Lines

This column originally was published in Volume 6 - Issue 8 of the February 7, 2007 Cardinal Courier.

This was my attempt to go where no Fisher fan had been before. The plan was to venture into the enemy’s territory and get a new perspective on the Fisher-Naz rivalry. So, on Feb. 2 I attempted to do the unthinkable and go behind enemy lines and sit among the Naz faithful during the men and women’s double-header.

I entered the Nazareth side at around 5:30, getting to the game is always essential especially in order to get a front row seat in the heart of the Golden Flyers cheering section. I sat down in front of a row of Nazareth ladies and removed my coat to reveal my Cardinal red ‘crazies” shirt. The Naz people didn’t seem to notice (or care) about my Fisher alliance at this point, they were more focused on screaming for a member of the women’s team like a group of crazed Teddy Geiger fans.

As more purple clad students filed into the gym, the more awkward I felt sitting amongst the Naz faithful by myself (at this point no one else would join me). This was the point were a particular Naz fan found a seat next to me. After being around this kid for a few minutes I came to the conclusion that he was borderline crazy (not to mention, he said he was kicked out of the last Naz game and later in this game he would end up throwing a bottle down at the scorer’s table).

He said that he was saving his energy for the men’s game as he almost completely ignored the women’s game and just listened to his iPod and drank from an ambiguous red drink (considering he’s a Naz guy it was probably a wine cooler). It also needs to be mentioned that he reeked like a mixture of Aqua Velva and booze.

At halftime of the woman’s game, I decided to go back to the Fisher side. I figured I could find my inner rowdiness with my fellow Crazies as opposed to sitting next to some music major wearing a “friends don’t’ let friends go to Fisher” shirt.
After the Fisher ladies dispatched of Naz, I knew it was once again time to cross over to hostile terrain. This time I brought some backup with me as Sports Editor handball Mike joined me in the crowd of purple and gold.

Entering the Naz section this time was a lot different then earlier. First off, there were a lot more people this time and these people did not appreciate our Cardinal Crazies attire. The insults quickly rained down upon us, the crowd especially didn’t appreciate our “go Fisher” cries.

Of course, their insults were as weak as some of their chants. They taunted us about having a football team that was only D-III and couldn’t quite win a championship. This taunt may have been more affective if Nazareth actually had a football team of their own. Another Naz faithful told me I needed Hooked on Phonics. I didn’t really get why this was supposed to be demeaning. But I guess nothing is more intimidating then: “Hey Fisher student, your basketball team is going to lose and you suck at reading!”

My reason for entering the enemy territory was not to be an instigator (although security gave me a few suspicious glances), but to experience the other side of a great rivalry. With that being said, there was some minimal pushing and shoving. Mostly from one particular Naz fan who sat in the front row. He was dressed in a white polo shirt (surprisingly the collar was not popped) and had a permanent scowl on his face the entire game. Maybe someone just informed him that this was actually a basketball game and not a Zoolander style dance-off between East Ave. rivals (of course, it goes without saying that the Fisher cheerleaders were way better than Naz’s dance team).

When all was said and done, I ended up back where I belonged: in the Fisher student to help cheer on the victors. But this experience helped me think about the nature of rivalries. It's funny how normal people will act to one another simply because they’re rooting for a different team.

I love the rivalry with Naz. I think it’s a healthy competition between the two schools. Hopefully more games like this can help to improve the intensity of the rivalry. It may seem from this column that absolutely despise everything about our sister school, but that’s not true. In fact, I’m heading down the road to make my peace with the Naz ladies as we speak.

Putting the "Super" back into the Bowl

This article was originally published in the Volume 6 - Issue 7 edition of the Cardinal Courier on January 24, 2007 and also appears on the Cardinal Courier website.

As soon as my beloved Buffalo Bills were officially eliminated from playoff contention, I started to root for the New Orleans Saints to win the NFL’s ultimate prize. The main reason I rooted for the Saints wasn’t because of the potential triumph of a city that was ravished by Hurricane Katrina. Sure, I loved the idea of this recent edition of “America’s Team” winning the Vince Lombardi trophy and causing celebrations worthy of Bourbon Street. Of course, the Saints promptly joined the Bills on the list of teams claiming next year to be “their year.”
But the main reason why I wanted to see the Saints win was simply: because they were fun to watch. This fun factor has been sorely lacking in a majority of past Super Bowls, especially last year’s Steelers-Seahawks contest. That game was as fun to watch as those hideous varicose veins commercials. Matter of fact, this will be the 41st Super Bowl and out of the first 40 only a handful of them have even been remotely close.
This year’s Super Bowl has potential to be a great game. How’s this for a match up: Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts’ high-octane offense (an offense that is this decade’s version of the Bills K-Gun in the early 90s) versus a furious, speedy Chicago Bears defense. I like the sound of that, but still the game still could end up a dud like so many other Super Bowls with great potential have.
What we need for this years Super Bowl is something crazy. Dare I say something that can even compare to the Boise State-Oklahoma Fiesta Bowl? That game was ten times as exciting to root for as any of the Super Bowls. Plus it had your classic underdog/good guys team (Boise State) versus the big time program/villains (Oklahoma). And a wedding proposal to the head cheerleader at the end was a bonus side plot that we would never see in the Super Bowl. We don’t even get to hear the game’s MVP proclaim he’s going to Disney World anymore.
The NFL equivalent would be Peyton Manning throwing the winning touchdown pass then proposing to (you're my boy) Blue, the Colts horse inspired mascot or J.P. Losman winning Super Bowl MVP (in 2008) and proclaiming that he’s buying everyone in Buffalo a round of drinks on Chippewa Street. This is the kind of excitement we need. Hopefully Chicago and Indianapolis can deliver.
Of course, the Colts-Patriots AFC Championship game thriller is certainly going to be hard to top too. That game can proudly join the ranks of the Boise State-Oklahoma Fiesta Bowl.
And while I’m on the subject of Colts and Patriots, is it just me or does the recent vintage of these teams have some striking similarities to the 2000-2004 Yankees and Red Sox. With the Patriots playing the role of the Yankees and the Colts taking the Red Sox bridesmaid position. Both the embattled Colts and Sox lost twice in the playoffs to the superior Champions with their clutch stars (Jeter and Brady) before ripping off an improbable comeback to stun the sporting world. Of course, the Colts could blow the entire analogy by losing the Super Bowl; we’ll just have to see.
But that’s for another column anyway.
I guess this just goes to show that the real reason Super Sunday is one of the biggest party days of the year isn’t the game itself. Instead it’s all the hoopla that surrounds the game including the ambush of “trying too hard to be clever” commercials, a 36-hour pre-game show with Joe Buck talking about everything including how footballs are made and why Bill Belichick wears those goofy cut-off hooded sweatshirts. Speaking of which, I declare that we pass a new man law: one that outlaws any guy from wearing that kind of wardrobe in public (Get on this Miller Lite!). Even Prince is stopping by Miami for the halftime show, which will hopefully be an entertaining show and not just the symbol formerly known as good music.
And guess what, I’m fine with all of this, because even if the game isn’t fun itself you can still have fun on that one special Sunday (and no, not just by getting tanked on cheap beer).
So here’s a hoping it’s a good game. Maybe the NFL will even allow Boise State coach Chris Petersen to call the plays. That would certainly help put the “Super” back into the football’s premier bowl game. And if not, you can always change the channel to The Surreal Life marathon on the CW.

Santa Scott presents the Holiday Wishlist

A version of this was originally published on December 6 Volume 6 - Issue 6
With the Holiday season almost here, I decided to address my holiday wish list, and to discuss what some sports figures will be getting for Christmas.
I tried to keep the list realistic (or somewhat realistic). So even though I’d like to see things like the Bills and Sabres winning championships and the Red Sox being relocated to Uzbekistan, I kept them off the list. So, everyone have a merry Christmas, a happy Chanukah, a glorious Kwanzaa, and a rocking Festivus, and enjoy.
-The NFL finally decides to drop the ridiculous “blackout” rule that punishes fans for not buying enough tickets. I love going to the games, but it takes up an entire day. Many people are busy and cannot make that commitment, plus it’s unfair for smaller market teams like Buffalo. For the NFL to punish fans like that makes as much sense as Terrell Owens writing a children’s book about sharing.
-Oh, wait T.O. did write an educational book called Little T Learns to Share. As much as I love the irony of one of the most selfish, egocentric individuals on the planet writing a book about sharing, I hope that no one actually tries to use this to teach some poor kid a lesson (unless that lesson is how to get all your teammates to loathe you). However, I do have a good idea for a sequel, Little T Learns How to Shut Up.
- Michigan – not Florida – faces off against the Buckeyes in the BCS championship game (see last column for details).
-For ESPN, I would give them some alternate programming to replace the spelling bee with. For example, they could have the World Racquetball Championships or something zany like Xtreme Curling (with the stone on fire?), or have Risk, Stratego or Battleship tournaments. Who wouldn’t love that?
-It’s seems like the current punishments for athletes breaking the rules isn’t doing the trick. Just look at Ricky Williams. It doesn’t matter how many times he gets suspended, he’ll always act as if he’s auditioning to be an extra in Half Baked. Instead of any suspensions or fines, guilty players should be sentenced to a number of Zinedine Zidane head-butts.
-This should apply to referees too. They constantly decide the outcome of games and have an annoying tendency of favoring certain teams (cough…New England Patriots, cough… Duke basketball). There should be some sort of repercussions for bad officiating, and I can’t think of a more fitting punishment than having the ref square off against Zidane in a WWF style cage match. It would be better than half of the “reality” shows on TV (I’m looking at you FOX). Some refs, like Ed Hochuli, would put up a good fight too.
For the rest of the wish list, I have a quick list of what’s in Santa’s bag:
-For Fisher sports teams, a few more Empire 8 championships and a sleigh full of wins.
-For Bill Belichick, a bra (or a mansiere if that’s more suitable).
-For the Bills front office, a giant bottle of whiteout to remove O.J. Simpson’s name from the Wall of Fame in Ralph Wilson Stadium.
-For Sabres forward Tim Connolly, a bill of clean health and an elixir to keep him and the rest of the team healthy for the playoffs
-For Brian Moorman, Jason Peters, Nate Clements and possibly Rian Lindell, a deserving trip to Hawaii and the Pro Bowl.
- A scoring title for Carmelo Anthony.
- A muzzle for Michael Irvin and a few other ESPN commentators (booya).
- A pacifier for Sidney Crosby and the entire Carolina Hurricanes team.
- The Whizzinator and a time machine for Shane Merriman and Floyd Landis, so they can go back into time and pass their drug tests.
- A National Championship for the Fisher football team and a new nickname (and defense) for the “beast of the east” Rowan Profs.
- And for all the Riding the Pine readers, an awesome winter break.