The NBA season begins tonight. Thank GOD. It's about time. You can only write so often about how bad the Ravens' offense is, how long the Orioles have gone without a winning season, and how weak that World Series was.

Before expanding on that, though, thanks to whoever's left out there reading this for your patience, while I took care of a little personal business. (Good stuff, though, just time-consuming.) But the timing is right because there is something new and fresh out there to talk about, a new season that follows an interesting regular season and an absolutely mesmerizing postseason.

And the way it's looking, you're probably not going to get a lot of info about the NBA in our pages. Too bad. I know there's interest in the NBA out there in the Baltimore area; I hear about it all the time. This is now my third NBA season back in town, and I can't even describe how painful it is not to have a team here, to have to go down the road to Verizon Center to get my fix. I know I'm not alone on this.

In a sad way, it was a bit of a blessing that Red Auerbach passed when he did (here's a gateway to the Boston Globe's coverage); it gave ESPN Classic an excuse to do a Celtics marathon all day yesterday. Even if you hate the Celtics - and really, isn't that was Red Auerbach's life was all about, creating a dynasty that was so easy to despise and envy? - it was a great way to feed your NBA jones for the days leading up to the openers tonight.

And if that wasn't enough, there was the Gilbert Arenas blowout in the Post on Sunday. Wow.

Plus, there's the new ball, the Stephen Jackson/Second Amendment Rule, the World Championships hangover (psychological and physical) and, just as we're about to tip it off, the heckler ban. Much more fun debating all of that than fretting over whether Kris Benson will return, isn't it?

Last but not least, predictions: San Antonio wins the West, in revenge for blowing Game 7 of the conference semis at home against Dallas, and for being so banged up by the time they got there.

Cleveland wins the East. It's LeBron Time.

Spurs win it all. LeBron is the MVP.

The Wizards get to the second round, but won't be able to get past either Miami or Cleveland.

Carmelo Anthony gets tired of all the upheaval and drama in Denver, demands a trade, and gets George Karl fired. Rudy Gay proves what a genius Jerry West still is by blowing up big in Memphis. (The Logo is retiring after this season.) Juan Dixon wonders how he, a solid citizen and tough competitor, ended up in Portland.

It's all way overdue.

Posted by David Steele at 9:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)
                    

Man, is life fragile. And do we ever spend an enormous amount of time getting bent over trivial things. Which, I guess, is not as bad as it sounds, because that helps take one's mind off of the fact that ... life is fragile.

I'm flipping back and forth between ESPN and CNN for reports about the plane crash in Manhattan in which, most people are reporting, the Yankees' Cory Lidle was killed. He was on the A's when I was in San Francisco; in fact, I remember vividly that he was the starter in Game 5 of the ALDS in Oakland against the Yankees in 2000, when everyone had to rush back across the country one night after the Yankees had tied the series in the Bronx. The A's couldn't go with their Big 3 (Mulder, Hudson, Zito) on such short notice. Terence Long misplayed a fly to center in the first inning, Lidle got run early, and from that moment I've had a soft spot for him, battling in tough circumstances to keep his team alive. He always seemed like a good guy and definitely a gamer, always playing better than his ability would indicate. I hate that I'm now writing about him in past tense.

Of course, until this news broke, everything else around the Yankees seemed in total chaos, with everyone finding someone else to blame for the horrible, unacceptable, division-winning, best-record-in-the-AL, first-round-losing season. It's pretty hard to fret about whether they should trade A-Rod at a time like this.

And naturally, the news of a plane hitting a building in Manhattan - please. It wasn't what we all feared from five years ago, and thus you feel guilty for saying, "Thank God it was only a private jet and only two people got killed.''

Same thing down here. The hand-wringing over the Ravens' first loss of the season hasn't eased up, but it's not easy to get that upset after realizing that the team plane had to make an emergency landing in the middle of the night to get Corey Ivy medical help for the kidney injury he suffered in the Broncos' game. Internal injuries like that can't help but freak you out - appendices, spleens, kidneys. Always scarier than bones and ligaments.

Now they're reporting that they haven't been able to notify Lidle's wife yet. This gets sadder and sadder every second. And now some of the baseball people on ESPN are remembering where they were when they heard about Thurman Munson and Roberto Clemente. It will be hard to watch baseball tonight.

CORRECTION: Witness the dangers of blogging. It wasn't Cory Lidle who pitched that Game 5 in 2000; it was Gil Heredia. Lidle joined the A's the following season. I apologize. It doesn't take away from the impression that Lidle was a strong-willed pitcher who took the ball when asked, usually under tough circumstances and without the stuff the Big 3 had. Believe me, he did it plenty of times. But that's what I get for going off straight memory.

CLARIFICATION: My memory wasn't off by that much. I was thinking: Yankees series, chance to clinch, in Oakland, bad spot for a starter, fielding miscues behind him. I was just a year early. Game 4 in 2001 had Lidle as the ill-fated non-Big 3 starter, with the A's having won the first two games, then lost Game 3 on the Derek Jeter backhand relay at the plate. In Game 4, F.P. Santagelo booted a double-play grounder in the second that opened the door, and Johnny Damon misplayed a flyball to center in the third. Plus, Jermaine Dye broke his leg fouling off a pitch. The A's lost that and Game 5. Read about it here. See, I didn't get it too wrong. And yes, I did feel for him the rest of his career after that.

Posted by David Steele at 6:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
                    

Interesting story in today's Denver Post: the relationship between athletes and media, the locker room rules and etiquette, and a breakdown of how certain individual Broncos conduct themselves with reporters. It includes a diagram of the Broncos' locker room at Mile High. It's a little weird, a little informative, and may or may not be relevant to readers, who don't necessarily need to hear us air our gripes about doing this job. (There's not a lot of that, but a little bit.)

Do you care about this sort of thing? Does it matter to you who talks a lot, who doesn't, who only talks after he gets dressed and whatnot? Does knowing how we work a locker room make a difference in how you receive your news? I can see where it might. I can also see where it can unfairly influence how an athlete is perceived. Who knows how the course of baseball history could have been altered had reporters decided that it wasn't all that important for everybody to know how rude Barry Bonds was to the writers? Or if reporters had made that factor dictate how they wrote about Ted Williams or Joe DiMaggio?

I know, I shouldn't be fretting over this. I should be wondering how and why they've played almost an entire half in Philly and T.O. has barely had a ball thrown his way. It might have something to do with the fact that he's not an Eagles defender, because Drew Bledsoe seems to be finding them easily enough. Yet with a minute to go, the Cowboys are up 21-17.

At least I think so. My hotel here in Denver has a spotlight on the lobby floor reminding us that we're 5,280 feet above sea level. No, really, get outta here! It also has markers on the walls next to the elevators on every floor, telling us the continued ascent into the atmosphere. Ninth floor means above 5,400 feet. I might just be a little lightheaded.

Hey, the Ravens are playing here tomorrow night! Good thing I decided to come here when I did. By the way, we're being monitored by the Post's bloggers. Jamison Hensley's story this morning, Peter Schmuck's column, and Mike Preston's blog, all now within easy reach of Denver readers. Now I might have to say something inflammatory. Of course, with the commentary above about their reporters-in-the-locker-room story, maybe I already have.

Posted by David Steele at 5:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
                    

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, my column about the passing last night of baseball icon Buck O'Neil will run in Sunday's Sun. The fact that I had never had the chance to meet him made it difficult to write, but it also made it important to write that. I had been looking forward to the Ravens' game at K.C. on Dec. 10, as an opportunity to make a second visit to the Negro Leagues Museum, to see where the museum was expanding to a historical building across the street and naming it after O'Neil - and to meet O'Neil himself. Once word trickled out last month that he had entered the hospital, I had a feeling it would not happen. Even though he led a hell of a life, 94 years worth, it still was painful to hear the news last night.

Here's the Kansas City Star's coverage of his passing. a transcript of Ken Burns' interview with O'Neil in the Baseball documentary. Here's where you can go to learn about the Negro Leagues Museum project. Here's a way to share your memories of him through the museum. Here's his quickly-updated bio on the Negro Leagues Baseball Players Association site.

Sadly, it slipped past many of us (well, me, actually) that another important figure had died this week: Peter Norman, who as silver medalist in the 200 at the 1968 Olympics stood on the stand as Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised their fists. This is the obituary in the Sydney paper, in his native Australia. Mike Wise wrote this commemoration in the Washington Post last week.

Before they all climbed the podium that night, Smith and Carlos gave Norman a button with the letter "OPHR'' - Olympic Project for Human Rights - and he wore it as he stood for the national anthem. The three remained friends over the years, and a year ago this month, Norman traveled from Australia to San Jose for the dedication of a statue of Smith and Carlos at the pair's alma mater. Norman spoke, and then posed on the portion of the statue's replica of the medals stand left empty by the sculptor.

Rest in peace, Buck O'Neil and Peter Norman.

Posted by David Steele at 3:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
                    

Before getting into a new story in Editor & Publisher magazine about newspaper coverage of steroids in baseball over the years, it's worth highlighting this portion of a reply to the last posting after the L.A. Times story about the Jason Grimsley affidavit: "I'm surprised no one else posted on this subject.''

I am, too. It might be that not a lot of traffic is coming this way, but I wonder if it's that not enough people care, or if there's some sort of steroid fatigue at play, or if it's too troubling to readers that of the five new names revealed from the affidavit, three of them were very popular Orioles. Maybe someone will post about why no one is posting.

Anyway, the industry magazine Editor & Publisher, which has written on this topic before, is coming out with an article in its next issue about how newspapers let chances to expose the steroid mess in past years, get away. It interviewed "more than a dozen'' reporters and editors, most of whom took responsibility for missing the boat. Two names you'll recognize: current Sun columnist Peter Schmuck and ex-Sun baseball writers Ken Rosenthal and Buster Olney.

The excuse-making is more entertaining and enlightening, though. Check this comment: "We are supposed to be legal experts, understand labor negotiations, and [find] steroids? ... There are a lot of things that go by the news department. What should they have known about JFK's social life?"

That was from Rocky Mountain News baseball writer Tracy Ringolsby, who is a recent recipient of the Spink award by the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Posted by David Steele at 2:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)
                    

For your Sunday morning reading pleasure, we present the actual Los Angeles Times story this morning naming Miguel Tejada, Brian Roberts and Jay Gibbons, among others, as the redacted names in the Jason Grimsley affidavit.

My suggestion for everybody: there needs to be some kind of one-week retreat for every sports fan in America - a week off simply to pause and reflect - so that we can once and for all get our heads wrapped around exactly what's going on with performance-enhancing drugs in all sports. Baseball, football, cycling, track, even the sports we haven't put in that pile yet for whatever reason. We're still having knee-jerk reactions to everything that happens and about every revelation - who we believe, who we don't, who we support, who we vilify, how this all fits in within the context of sports and society overall.

Here's why: more names keep coming out, and what we were absolutely sure we knew about doping, its practitioners and its effects keeps getting thrown mockingly in our faces. There's no doubt that at this very second, people are saying, NO, not Miggy, not B-Rob, they don't seem like the type. Or, more widely, NO, not the Rocket. Yet it was easy for everybody to say, Hell yeah, Bonds is using.

We need to re-calibrate our definition of cheating, balance the fact that actual failed drug tests are rare with the fact that the drugs are made specifically to beat such tests, and recognize that denial is always the first reaction to a report like this.

It will probably take more than a week to sort all of that out. But anything is better than the pointless, stupid blurting out of commentary on these revelations. It's getting us nowhere. Obviously, with new names coming out every day, how far along are we in the discourse about this? Can everybody at least agree now that Barry Bonds isn't the Typhoid Mary of sports doping?

Anyway, Ravens kickoff in two hours. So forget all this stuff for now. Right?

Posted by David Steele at 11:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)