Each week at the Toy Department, in addition to offering one of our writers the chance to endorse something they feel strongly about, we also give one of our writers a chance to dismiss something -- however unpopular that opinion may be -- in a segment we call "Dead. To. Me." Click here for previous editions.

If I were king of the forest. Not queen. Not duke. Not prince.

Like Bert Lahr in the "Wizard of Oz," the hapless, pathetic Detroit Lions have decided that if they can't play a ferocious game, they'll at least look like leader of the pack.

I'd command each thing, be it fish or fowl. With a woof and a woof and a royal growl--woof.

So the team that crafted the perfect 0-16 record last season has rolled out a new logo that features the same leaping lion, but this one with a mouth full of incisors capable of tearing an opponent limb from limb.

Each rabbit would show respect to me. The chipmunks genuflect to me.

"The evolution," explained team president Tom Lewand, "allows us to present our Lions brand and visual identity in new, versatile and distinctive ways."

This is great news to both Lions fans, who will no doubt cast off their toothless Lions gear and rush out for the new stuff, thereby stimulating the economy and saving the nation.

Unfortunately for the Detroit front office, looks can't kill.

Supposin' you met an elephant? I'd rap him up in cellophant!

By virtue of their abominable record, the Lions will pick first in the NFL draft, so they have that going for them. Other than that, though, they're likely to spend this season scaring no one but themselves.

What have they got that I ain't got? Courage!

The Lions are not alone in trying to project a more swaggering image.

I, for one, miss the smiling beak and laughing eyes of Testudo, the University of Maryland mascot.

Continue reading "Dead.To.Me.: Logo changes" »

Posted by Candus Thomson at 2:55 PM in Dead To Me | Permalink | Comments (3)
        

Each week at the Toy Department, in addition to offering one of our writers the chance to endorse something they feel strongly about, we also give one of our writers a chance to dismiss something -- however unpopular that opinion may be -- in a segment we call "Dead. To. Me." Click here for previous editions. 

Not since Spiro Agnew stuffed the governor' desk drawers with envelopes of cash has there been anyone in Maryland who can do vice.

Well, maybe Dick Cheney (R-Remington), but that's a stretch.

Hard on the heels of their boffo efforts to bring slots casinos to Maryland, state lawmakers and the governor think they should ride to the rescue and embrace the putrid corpse of horse racing and, by extension, the Preakness. Why do they think that by seizing the second leg of the Triple Crown--and, for good measure the Pimilco and Laurel tracks--they can raise the dead?

The Preakness is dead to me. Ditto Pimlico. Pennies-on-the-eyes, stone-cold muerte.

Horse racing in Maryland has been reduced to little more than the Preakness, a one-day excuse to get stinking drunk, bet and sing a bloodthirsty, racist song. A redneck bar with a jukebox would deliver the same results with less pretention and fewer traffic problems.

Continue reading "Dead. To. Me. The Preakness" »

Posted by Candus Thomson at 8:02 AM in Dead To Me | Permalink | Comments (4)
        

Each week at the Toy Department, in addition to offering one of our writers the chance to endorse something they feel strongly about, we also give one of our writers a chance to dismiss something -- however unpopular that opinion may be -- in a segment we call "Dead. To. Me." 

Kobe Bryant is a manic basketball genius. If I run across a Lakers game while flipping channels late at night, I stop because there's always a chance that Kobe will make a move or hit a shot that I've never seen. But Kobe Bryant has not been the most valuable player in the NBA this season. He has not been the second most valuable or the third. I am tired of hearing about the epic MVP race between Kobe and LeBron James (Bill Simmons says it's the most epic since Barkley-Jordan-Olajuwon in 1992-93). As far as I'm concerned, there is no such race. With one week left in the regular season, Kobe Bryant's MVP chances are Dead To Me.

Please explain the argument for Kobe. I dare you.

Is it statistical? Can't be. We don't even have to start with LeBron on that front. Let's look at Kobe vs. Dwyane Wade. Kobe's greatest talent is scoring and he averages an impressive 27 per game. Wade averages 29.9. Wade plays more minutes you say? Yes, but he also averages more points per minute. Maybe Kobe is a more accurate shooter? Well, he makes 46.6 percent from the field, very good for a two guard who takes so many tough shots. Wade makes 48.8 percent. Kobe is a more accurate free throw shooter, but Wade has gotten to the line 200 more times. Kobe is a slightly better rebounder per minute but Wade has him by more than two assists a game. Wade's advantage only grows if you bring defensive numbers into it. He has 50 percent more steals and has blocked three times as many shots.

Continue reading "Dead. To. Me.: Kobe as MVP" »

Posted by Childs Walker at 6:00 AM in Dead To Me, Today's Special | Permalink | Comments (2)
        

Each week at the Toy Department, in addition to offering one of our writers the chance to endorse something they feel strongly about, we'll also give one of our writers a chance to dismiss something -- however unpopular that opinion may be -- in a segment we call "Dead. To. Me."

During Sunday's North Carolina-Oklahoma game, CBS announcers Jim Nantz and Clark Kellogg mentioned that the Tar Heels were attempting to become the first team to win 100 NCAA Tournament games. "That's kind of cool," I thought until Nantz mentioned that Kentucky had reached the mark but lost credit for a few wins because of sanctions against the 1988 team.

Suddenly, I felt the "Dead. To. Me." fires raging in my gut. Because I hate few things more than the whitewashing of history. It's an infantile response to human iniquity, the province of dictators who believe that our story must fit their notion of what's proper. I like my history messy and full of morally questionable people doing periodically spectacular stuff. Because you know what, that's life.

The Kentucky example struck me because I remember Eddie Sutton's 1988 team well. Why? Because they beat Bob Wade's Maryland Terrapins, with Brian Williams at center, in the second round. It was a terrific game in which Rex Chapman's rainbow jumpers proved a little too much for the seventh-seeded Terps. But the NCAA would have us believe that Kentucky never won that game or its first-round contest against Southern. One of Sutton's assistants mailed Chris Mills $1,000 in cash, but the package popped open in transit. Once the episode became public, the 1988 team was wiped from the NCAA's books.

But wait. Did Maryland and Southern get to go back and play each other? Did the winner get a chance to do better against Villanova than Kentucky did in the next round? Of course not, because you can't go back and recreate something as complex as a 64-team tournament. You can't rewrite history.

There are even greater examples of this type of stupidity. Michigan allegedly did not beat Cincinnati in the 1992 national semi-finals or earn a No. 1 seed the next year on the way to another title game. All because a booster gave cash to a few basketball stars. I guess the Fab Five never existed. No baggy shorts. No black socks. No sick dunks by Chris Webber or funky mid-range jumpers by Jalen Rose. I guess I dreamed my love for that audacious team.

There are people who will tell you that Hank Aaron should be reinstated as baseball's home-run king because steroids probably helped Barry Bonds reach 762. Set aside the fact that we have little idea how much steroids help in hitting home runs. Those people are saying history would feel a little neater if we could carry on without any awareness of the drug mania that apparently infected baseball (and perhaps, still does).

I'm not comfortable with that. I wouldn't be comfortable saying Babe Ruth played against all of the best players of his time or that amphetamines had no impact on the game of Aaron's day. Every era is dirty and complicated in some way. Ruth, Aaron and Bonds all hit a bunch of home runs in the middle of different messes. Bonds hit the most. Why do we need to simplify it beyond that?

I don't even like the stripping of Olympic gold medals from athletes who are caught doping. It seems fairly simple to say the guy who finished second won a race when the guy who finished first turns up dirty. But does anyone really feel that Carl Lewis was the fastest guy in the 1988 Olympic 100 meters. Let me tell you, he wasn't. Ben Johnson dusted him, drugs or no. Why must we alter history to pretend that didn't happen?

So I hope Bobby Bowden gets to keep his wins and Bonds his home runs. If A-rod passes Barry, I'll say the same for him. The erasing of history is now and forever more, dead to me.

Posted by Childs Walker at 3:00 PM in Dead To Me | Permalink | Comments (0)
        

Each week at the Toy Department, in addition to offering one of our writers the chance to endorse something they feel strongly about, we'll also give one of our writers a chance to dismiss something -- however unpopular that opinion may be -- in a segment we call "Dead. To. Me."

This week, Candy Thomson makes the case for why it's time to get over the Colts midnight move

 .

Let's pause for a moment to remember that the Colts left Baltimore for Indianapolis 25 years ago Sunday.

OK, that's enough.

Yes, The Sun will have stories about that fateful day just as sure as Gov. Martin O'Malley will take credit for the grass turning green as part of his "Smart, Green and Growing" campaign. (Now don't you get all mad, Marty. Snarky press is better than no press at all).

When it comes to anniversaries ending in "5" or "0," news organizations can't help themselves. Just once, I'd like to see coverage of the 16th anniversary or the 31st anniversary of something. Won't happen, though.

But just because we lack the discipline to stop rehashing old news doesn't mean the good people of Maryland should sink to our level and wallow in grief and anger. 

Continue reading "Dead To Me: Good grief! The Colts are still gone" »

Posted by Candus Thomson at 6:00 AM in Baltimore Colts, Dead To Me, Today's Special | Permalink | Comments (71)