Despite needing to keep my voice for Saturday when I sing with the Spartanburg Chorale, nothing could keep back the long and loud scream at 9:58pm Wednesday night. The Phillies, the losingest team in the Majors, wrapped up a World Series title, beating the Tampa Bay Devil Rays 4-3 and taking the series four games to one. The writing here may be toned down, but I was ever so glad that I didn’t witness Wild Thing Part II. Lidge did what Williams did not, and that was shut the game down through pitching. If there was truly the Curse of Billy Penn (having a building built higher than town hall’s statue of him and never winning a championship since), it was finished by someone’s clever placement of a smaller statue of Billy on top of the newest tall building in town, the Comcast Center. That was this June, and now the Phillies won the World Series, making me wonder if there really WAS a curse and if it’s finally broken for good. So that can go down as classic.

What’s even more classic was the post-game ceremonies. You gotta understand, we’ve had our hearts broken for so long that we crave our time to cheer. We love our teams so much that we hate the players on those teams that make the teams look bad. (Exhibit A: Terrell Owens. Exhibit B: Eric Lindros.) On the other hand, true heroes are untouchable. (Exhibit A: Dick Vermeil. Exhibit B: Rocky.) So you can say we’re passionate about our teams and we pretty much will hoard attention to them. This explains the booing when Bug Selig stepped up. The man who interrupted Cole Hamel’s great game. Doesn’t matter if we still won, boo the guy! Charlie Manuel, class act that he is, offered a congratulatory note to the Rays for what was, without a doubt, a great five games. Even more boos. Doesn’t matter if we won, doesn’t matter if they were (besides game four) all close games, boo the losers! The crowning moment was when a pack of fans drove down I-95 a few miles to Delaware (yes, out-of-state) for the sole purpose of heckling the Rays players as they walked from their hotel to the buses.

It’s not all bad. The fans saved their loudest cheers for Charlie Manuel, who, barring a meltdown of epic proportions, should ascend to the ranks of “hero” in Philly for the rest of his life. Even watching some of the pre-game interviews on the local Fox affiliate (”Kalas on Game 5″) the fans were chanting for the play-by-play radio announcer. You can’t make this stuff up.

Philly has finally forced the sporting world to give us the respect we’ve deserved for so very long. That means you, Ken Rosenthal. That means you, too, ESPN - “Rays in 5. Well, okay, Rays in 6. No? Maybe Rays in 7. Doesn’t matter, Philly will never win.” Do you hear that sound? That’s the sound of a city of 3 million laughing at you right this very second. This is our night, our weekend, our team, our city, and, finally, at long last, our trophy.

Do you feel it?

Do you notice, every morning, how it’s a little more comfortable when you step outside? How it’s always a little cooler in the evenings than it was the day before? Have you caught yourself waking up at 3 in the morning and thinking, “Man, I should turn that AC back tomorrow,” before pulling the covers up a little higher?

Do you see it?

Do you notice the trees, how their leaves are starting to turn a little more pale, a little drier, every day? Have you noticed the condensation on your windshield when you leave for work? Have you discovered that every morning, it’s a little darker out when you leave, and how, when you come home, the sun’s not quite as high in the sky as it was the day before? Have you looked up at the clouds lately and thought, “Those clouds look exactly like the clouds before a snowstorm”?

Do you hear it?

Have you stopped recently to listen to the bees and other bugs buzzing, only to find they’re not buzzing so much anymore? Have you heard how even the crickets at night seem to sing a little deeper, a little more subdued? Have you heard the breeze in the trees, how it sounds a little crisper, a little harder?

Do you get it?

Football season has started. NFL training camp’s closed, preseason’s under way. High schools are lining up and starting practices. Fantasy leagues are forming now. And you’re reading one happy blogger, because the drought of summer is over, and now is the time when large sweating men strap on pads and helmets and meet on the field of battle to knock each other silly for three and a half hours.

It doesn’t get better. The commercials have already started. I laughed myself silly at Subway last week - perhaps you’ve seen the commercial. Perhaps, like me, you saw the punchline (”…because your Monday morning can’t touch this…”) coming from a mile away, complete with bells, whistles, and fireworks to proclaim it’s pending arrival. And perhaps, like me, you laughed hysterically anyway. Then, perhaps, you remembered all the great “It must be Football Season” commercials from Southwest Airlines, like the “I’m open” one or the fieldgoal-kicking shoe customer. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.

Fall’s coming. Football’s coming. Are you ready?

I hate the Cowboys. I hate everything about them. I despise their arrogance, cockiness, and (most of all) their presumption. “We’re ‘America’s Team!’” Who appointed you to that? If the Dallas Cowboys are “America’s Team,” then I’m moving to Canada. My consolation of late has been that they have been spending money on mouths and not talent. Terrell Owens is the key example here - past his prime, over-rated, all he has is his attitude and selfish arrogance. He was covered by a third-string cornerback on Monday night against the Bills and got 1 catch for 14 yards. If that’s not overpriced jaw I don’t know what is. Their bandwagon following (which I’m convinced makes up 90% of their fan base) has been shrieking that Tony Romo is the next Brett Favre…I personally think he’s the next Jeff Garcia - he’ll make a great backup when he’s in his 30s. How can you be the next Brett Favre when you throw five interceptions on MNF and cough up another fumble?
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1. At what point does a coach cross the line between fiercely defending his own players, his quarterback in particular, and move into childish screaming? That seems to be the question surrounding Oklahoma State’s head coach Mike Gundy this week. Gundy, in a press conference after OSU’s win over Texas, absolutely went berserk on the Daily Oklahoman sports writer who, in his mind, shredded quarterback Bobby Reid for a whole host of reason, most of which seemed to be backed by surmising and rumor. Now, you can read the article here then watch Gundy’s response here (or here if YouTube is not kosher for whatever reason). The debate is centered around professionality…and while, no, throwing a fit on national television is not the most professional way to go about things, I can almost guarantee that, considering the lack of action elsewhere in the state of OK, those reporters have never been shouted down from a local sports icon before, and I further doubt it’s an experience they’ll soon forget. Props to Gundy, though, for sticking up for his player. Anyone who’s spent time away from home at college knows that you tend to gain a handful of surrogate parents in the faculty and staff with whom you interact on a regular basis, and in this case Gundy acted no less than any other concerned protective father would if his son were trashed in local/national media. Good for him!
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The Quartet was on the road again this weekend (is on the road, rather - I’m typing this from a motel in Taylorville, IL) and we got to do something that I don’t think I’ll ever do again: sing the National Anthem at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Okay, so it was just us, the rest of the tour group, and a few guys who had paid big bucks for Allison Transmissions to take them for a spin around the 2.5 mile track in a pickup, but it was still pretty cool. When the tour guide found out our identity, he had us step up in the winners’ podium (where the National Anthem is typically sung at the Indy 500) and sing for the crowd. Expect a video on YouTube sometime after we get back.

After that coolness (not to mention all the other stuff there - the IMS is really a nifty place to tour) we went to sing at a church in Dennison, IL. After the service, we stepped outside and waited for the last folks from church to leave. That left us, Bussy, and a whole slew of stars above. It was so clear and so dark that we could barely pick out constellations for all the stars that were up there. I recognized the Big Dipper and Scorpio (I think), but the really neat thing was that from horizon to horizon there was a cloudy band of stars - that, folks, is the edge of our particular arm of the galaxy. Yes - the Milky Way Galaxy was spread out above us tonight. I’d heard about that but have never seen anything quite like it before, and let me say it was absolutely stunning. To see that many stars sprinkled above the earth like that…truly God is an amazing God!

So that’s all from IL. Go Eagles, go Penn State, and go Pig Sty Esquires, my fantasy team on ESPN, who are 1-0 after solidly trouncing Davey last week. Woo hoo!

It has been one day and a half here in the Maratimes. Not only did the Calvary Quartet sing to two packed out churches, but the Phillies set a new MLB record by losing their 10,000th game. In 126 years of franchise play, no team before this afternoon had lost that many games. Now the Phillies are in the record books…not for winning (or anything else positive, for that matter) but for losing. Appropriately enough, the Phils are the losingest team in major league sports. How’s that for fame?

So yeah, Maratimes, singing, boating, etc. etc. etc. It was a long day. Fun, but still long. The alarm is not going to be set for tomorrow morning. Sightseeing for a few hours, sure, but not before lunch. So now I can’t really keep my eyes open, and I keep typing very strange things while I’m writing this post. Not just typos, but completely different words. Very annoying. I’m going to stop now…before I type something embarrassing…

How did Philly embarrass themselves against the Saints tonight? Let’s look…
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The first round is done and over with, and all the pretenders have been sent home empty-handed. Granted, the NFC pretenders both had victory in sight, but both managed to live up to their respective underwhelming seasons and lose (as they should have).
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At the risk of sounding unoriginal and cliche, the first sixteen weeks were the preseason. Next week kicks off the real season in the NFL. Since I’m still on a buzz from Sunday’s action, and since I need to usher in 2007 properly, here are my thoughts on the picture:
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Sometimes having stats that some NFL players can only dream about isn’t enough. Props to the kid for an outstanding effort, though.

http://msn.foxsports.com/other/story/6061674

Yesterday I was with the Quartet in Hampton, VA. Thankfully, the church parking lot was in range (barely) of an unprotected wifi signal, which I used to catch the first quarter of the Ealges’ game against the despised Cowboys. Now, mind you, Dallas has, for the last 30 years at least, been a hated rival of the Eagles. I don’t know why, really. They’re both in the same division, so I suppose that has something to do with it, but as far as anyone cares to recount both teams have always been at each others’ throats. Sunday you could have probably cut the emotion in the air with a knife. Not only were the arch-rivals coming to town, but they were bringing the man that every football fan in town loves to hate - Terrell Owens. Remember him? The guy that wanted attention so badly that he was willing to take pot shots at the town’s #1 hero, Donovan McNabb? Yeah, that guy. And he’s showing up with a big star (or bullseye, depending on how you look at it) on his chest to boot. So this was more than just another game against Dallas. This was for all the marbles, NFC East-wise. This was for control of the division. This, for Philly, was to prove they could beat teams in their own division. This was the return of quite possibly the most hated man in town. This was big.

There was a circus leading up to the game. Every major network had their NFL Sunday Countdown/Preview/Whatever in Philly. The talking heads were jabbering about The Return to the exclusion of everything else. This was supposed to be the main attraction. Would Owens steal the show? Would it come down to the wire?

In the end, Owens delivered a seriously underwhelming performance. I hope Dallas fans and staff will see what they paid $10 million for - a big mouth with nothing to back him up. He was thrown to a grand total of 11 times. He had less than 50 yards receiving, no touchdowns, and no plays made. All hail the greatest receiver in the NFL! (As far as he’s concerned, at least.)

Instead McNabb did what he’s paid to do - use every weapon in the book. Westbrook didn’t have a stellar running night, so he received instead. Reggie Brown and Hank Baskett got a little love in the form of touchdown passes. And credit the defense, too - they stopped Dallas in a big way, putting scads of pressure on Drew Bledsoe (who was a statue in the pocket) and allowing him no time to think, let alone throw. And finally, the “flashback of the century” award goes to Lito Sheppard, who, with seconds left in the fourth quarter and the Eagles clinging to a lead that looked soon to evaporate, channeled James Willis by picking off Bledsoe (Aikman) three yards deep into the end zone on a pass intended for #1 receiver (running back) Owens (E. Smith) and returning it 102 (108) yards for a touchdown. And Merrill Reese sounded exactly the same yesterday as he did in 1996 on that play.

Be sure to catch the video highlights of the game, as well as read all the articles lauding the Eagles on the Eagles’ website. But before you go, I leave you with two things: a picture and a song.

He might not have been depressed two weeks ago, but he sure is now.

Eagles Fight Song - Fly, Eagles Fly!

Inspired by Brade’s revelation of “dancing [his] dance” (a term one of the early Puritans wrote in his diary indicating he did his calisthenics for the day), I have my victory dance. More specifically, it’s a bottle of semi-cold Canada Dry ginger ale. Why do I celebrate with my victory dance? Because: the fat lady has sung. (Sci-fi fans should be able to identify these terms with their origin. If not, they’re not sci-fi fans.) She actually sung twice - one decent performance and one stellar encore. The decent performance first:

Chorale will be singing Haydn’s Lord Nelson Mass next month. Unfortunately, it won’t be downtown as was previously stated. Artisphere couldn’t get its act together and line up a venue for us, so we’re doing it on campus. This mass contains a number of solos. In a somewhat unusual move, Dr. Cook gave solos to anyone who tried out, myself included. So, I have the tenor solo for the Kyrie and the Et incarnatus est. They’re pretty cool solo lines. There really is no dominant tenor solo line, so me and the other three guys were evenly split up. Now you have an even better reason to come to the concert (April 21, 6:30 and 8:00; complimentary tickets available in the Music Library or from me). So that made my afternoon, congested and miserable as I was.

But the real kicker came when the fat lady did her encore. The Epsilon Zeta Chi (Z) men’s basketball team has been arguably one of the most dominating teams of the decade, if you look at first, second, and third place finishes. Two years ago the team went undefeated to win in convincing fashion against Beta Gamma Delta (Beta) for the championship, played downtown at the Bi-Lo Center. Last year they faltered and took third place to Alpha’s second place to Beta’s first place. This year, despite two losses (one early on and one just two weeks ago), they made it to the championship game. The road was not easy - they lost their second game when Ben Edwards, resident Big Man (c), went down with a twisted ankle. But he rebounded (pun intended) to lead Z to a victory against Alpha in the league championship, earning the right to face Beta in what promised to be a grudge match. Z, looking to prove they have Beta’s number. Beta, looking to make it two championships in a row. Both with dominant centers, both seniors, who want that one last championship before they graduate. The game started out bad for the Tornadoes (that would be Z). They found themselves down a quick 7, regaining the lead only once before halftime, where they went to the locker room down five. Beta was clearly outplaying Z - their resident Big Man (c) had Z’s resident Big Man (c) smothered. Ben, usually a force down low, was getting no joy. Coming out of the gates, he changed his playing style - he would take the ball down low, then drop it outside where the two three-point shooters, Stephen Yates and Stephen Leeper, could line up for an outside fade-away or long-distance shot. But, it seemed like it was too little, too late. Despite a few point runs, including one stretch of four straight three-point shots, Z couldn’t close to within less than five. The clock was winding down - only two minutes left to play, and Beta was up six. Beta fans in the bleachers were saying, “Maybe next year, Z. Maybe next year.” But then, in a move worthy only of the New York Yankees, Beta choked. Spectacularly. Unbelievably. You shouldn’t believe me, because it never should have happened. They outplayed and out-muscled Z all game. But in the last five minutes, Z’s ball team showed up. Leeper, team quarterback, started making long down-court connections to Theon “Zeon” Hill. Yates started dropping threes like they were going out of style. Beta crossed the seven-foul limit and started giving up bonus 1-and-1 shots. Beta stopped connecting. Keith Rogers, their 3-point genius, went ice cold. Josh Hubbard, the down low threat, suddenly couldn’t buy a bucket. And within one minute, Z went from down seven to up one. At that point, I personally knew it was over. They had completed a miracle comeback, and they weren’t about to let it go. Beta lost the wind in their sails, and Z had found theirs. The famed “Zefense” mercilessly clamped down on Beta, capitalizing on their every mistake. And when that “Zefense” secured the ball with 0.2 seconds left on the clock, with Z up 81-77, the stands emptied. I had moved down to the floor with 59 seconds left because I knew it was over. And when the buzzer sounded, it was mayhem. Matt Wilson, dorm supe in Reveal and Z alumnus, said it was the funniest thing to watch. The cheerleaders, being the closest, ran onto the court, followed very shortly by a very large mob of maroon-bedecked fans pouring from the seats onto the court. Within seconds, half of the court was full of bodies jumping up and down, hands raised in the air. I know - I was smack dab in the middle of it all. I couldn’t not jump. We were pressed so closely together that we were jumping each other, moving as one insanely happy throng. Five minutes of that, and the trophy was presented to Ben Edwards, captain and coach. I’m not sure what happened next, but Theon, our resident black man, started acting the Chicago boy he really is, leading us in some cheer…not sure what it was even now, but it was intense. We finally settled down; Theon got MVP; each of the team members took turns cutting the net down; we all touched the trophy; the cheerleaders sang their song; we all cheered the Silent Maroon; and I went to get my Victory Dance.

Z won its second title in three years, coming back on the strength of a stellar defensive and offensive effort in the last five minutes, not to mention the strength of an opponent who just stops playing. Funny thing is, I can almost guarantee that the Collegian will still rank Z second on the year. Makes no difference - Z’s always been the underdog. No one wants to believe Z’s the best. After they trounced Beta two years ago they were ranked second; I wouldn’t be surprised if, given the two late comebacks two weeks in a row, Z ends up ranked third. Nothing new - they never got any respect in the sports world. WBJU got better about it after all their Basil-associated sports writers graduated. Apparently someone in the Collegian is still very much anti-Z or pro-Beta. But who’s got the championships to prove their worth? Who needs respect when you’ve got the two titles under your arm?

Here’s to you, Z. Here’s to Brent Deedrick, Ben Edwards, Stephen Leeper, Stephen Yates, and Theon Hill, starters of the reigning championship team. Here’s to Dan Anderson, Jesse Williams, Allen Cover, and all the new guys that I haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting, who did a stellar job from the bench. Sleep well tonight, men; you’ve earned it.

FOXSports.com - COLLEGE FOOTBALL- Virginia Tech kicks Vick off team

Nice to see that there are some places where integrity is still practiced. VT kicked Marcus Vick (QB, younger brother of Atlanta Falcons QB Michael Vick) off the team, record and talent notwithstanding, for being a complete jerk on and off the field. Granted, this usually doesn’t happen in the pro world (with the nice exception of the Vikings fiasco all year) but it’s nice to see that Vick’s learning things outside the classroom, too.

My faith in the game of basketball has been restored, at least for this week. Z played a very tough opener against Beta - taller, bigger, and possibly better. The refs were, as refs typically are anywhere in the world when considered by spectators, uniformly bad, missing and giving calls both ways. (Sort of comes out to even, right?) But my faith in breaking the rules in order to win was restored, as was my faith that teams that probably shouldn’t have won can still win, if they cheat.

Here’s what happened. Up by one with something like 25 seconds left, Z tries to hang on to the ball but loses it, letting Beta run down and score to go up one. Beta gets the ball back on a missed shot by Z. Here’s the cheating: Z breaks the rules and fouls the ball carrier in the hopes of getting the ball back. (See this post for a fuller explanation of that theory.) Mind you, this is the ball carrier who hasn’t missed a free throw all game. Except this one. The 1-and-1 shot (if you make the first, you try for a second; if not, you get zip) didn’t go in for the first time all game, and Z gets the ball back with seven seconds, down one.

Some of the boys had been taking bad 3-point shots all game, including the coach (who also plays). We’re all worried he’ll do it again. Ball is put in bounds and moved up the court fast against a surprisingly lax Beta defense. Coach gets it and hands off to a freshman with 0.9 seconds left.

Here’s where you get to place bets (using Monopoly money, of course) as to what happened next. Finals week coming up, I’ll give you a multiple-guess question: What happened next?

a.) Freshman throws up an awkward shot and effectively loses the game; coach is berated and jeered the rest of the night.
b.) Freshman tips back to Coach, who puts up an awkward shot and effectively loses the game; coach is berated and jeered the rest of the night.
c.) Freshman sinks an off-balance 2-pointer to win the game.

If you chose ‘A’, you’re wrong. It was actually ‘C’. The freshman, widely regarded to be the younger brother of former MVP Brett Yates (because he is), who had been pretty much dead on all game, except the last five minutes, left a defender behind him and swished the buzzer-beating game-winning shot. I haven’t actually run onto the court cheering since Z won the title two years ago. I did tonight, though. It was a big game, in terms of morale. We proved that, with a very young team (starting two freshmen), we could still beat an annual powerhouse. We proved that we have all the characteristics of sandpaper - grit, grain, and roughness. We proved that breaking the rules pays.

http://msn.foxsports.com/nfl/story/5119324

I like Arlen Specter. He’s a pretty fair guy, and has done a pretty good job representing my half of PA in the US Senate. And he’s from Philly, an avid Eagles and Phillies fan. But I think that, right now, he needs to stick his head in a bucket of ice water for a few minutes. Specter, who admits he’s as hostile towards TO as any other green-blooded Philadelphian, thinks that he may bring anti-trust law to bear against the NFL for upholding TO’s suspension. For those living in areas with no football reception, Terrell Owens was canned from the Eagles for making derogatory comments and basically being a stubborn clot. Not only was he suspended for four games without pay, but the team’s paying him the minimum for him to stay away from any of the team’s facilities and being even more disruptive than he already is. This has caused the city to come out against him in a fashion that hasn’t been seen since Eric Lindros whined to his daddy about the way he was being forced to play hurt.

So now Specter’s making something up about vindictiveness and inappropriateness and a very nebulous “restraint of trade” charge. I personally think he’s trying to have it both ways. He doesn’t want to alienate his neighbors by supporting the unsupportable; but he wants to stay on the up-and-up should the NFL find itself needing a friend. This, incidentally, is why I have absolutely zero time for anything political. I hate the games, I hate the double-talk, and I hate the trying to please everyone.

Senator Specter: chill.

It’s gotta be hard to be (A.) Jay Feely this afternoon. Poor guy missed not one, not even two, but three potential game-winning field goals. The Giants lost a heartbreaker to the Seahawks just now…and this author is shedding no tears. Seattle got all the good calls - even the challenges went their way. With the Eagles’ win in Philly and the Skins loss at home, the NFC East is a mess of two-way ties. Dallas and NY are tied for first, and Philly and Washington are tied for second. With the key NFC East game next week (Dallas at NY, 1pm EST on Fox), Dallas could conceivably move into first place with a win. Philly hosts MNF #3 this season when Seattle, coming off this very emotional win, moves into town. Washington has what should be an easy game against St. Louis in San Looah. (Note to self - Martin St. Louis should pronounce his name like everyone in this country reads it, not the prissy French pronounciation.)

Also in sports news, speculation still abounds where TO (who was T[K]O’d earlier this week) will end up next year, if anywhere. Possible suitors include San Diego (don’t ask; we don’t know why), Washington (and you really think he’ll get along with Joe Gibbs? note to self - not only is he the head coach, he’s also the owner. Double trouble for TO.), and Denver. But lest we forget - we’ve already seen one spoiled brat ruin his team and his chances of ever getting a contract again. I’m betting TO Sprees his chances at playing again.

Philadelphia’s “Love” affair with Terrell Owens is officially over. Andy Reid canned Owens for a four game suspension without pay, and word on the street is that he’ll be deactivated and paid the minimum his contract requires for the rest of the five games after his suspension. Let’s review, shall we?

• Owens gets traded to Baltimore at the beginning of last season, but throws a fit and demands a quick retrade to Philadelphia, which (surprisingly) is approved by all sides. He wants a ring, and Philly needs a receiver. Match made in heaven, right?
• Philly signs T.O. to a contract that, even by the standards of pro atheletes today, is absolutely enormous - seven years and around 43 million dollars.
• Like a good little boy, T.O. says his days of running wild are over. “Donovan McNabb runs this town, and I’m cool with it!” is his line. Those who know better all die of epileptic seizures.
• T.O. delivers and the Eagles coast on a new-found passing game, until…
• T.O. gets hurt and sits out the rest of the season. Which is a good thing, because absolutely no one wanted to see Andy Reid in Spandex.
• Philly, despite the injury to their #1 receiver and new best friend, makes it to Super Bown XXXIX.
• T.O., despite doctor’s orders, plays in SB XXXIX, citing direct revelation from God that he will be the key to winning the game. Mormons everywhere wonder when he converted.
• Either God or T.O. was wrong, because Philly lost the game. No one thinks of blaming God.
• Skip to the off-season. McNabb admits he was a little dazed at the end of the game (bad clock management, anyone?) and T.O. immediately hops on his back, saying he shouldn’t have played sick and that McNabb lost the game for the team because of his selfishness.
• T.O. continues mouthing off and acting like a brat who was denied a Super Bowl ring. Next target is Andy Reid, then McNabb again, then the entire organization, then his agent, then McNabb one more time, then the PR department…
• Owens finally runs out of people to insult and decides to get into a fist fight with someone twice his weight in the locker room. Hugh Douglas, not wanting to further bruise T.O.’s ego, says “nothing happened” when in fact he likely creamed Owens.
• McNabb finally wakes up (!) and realizes it’s him or T.O., and guess who Philly likes better?

Which brings us to Sunday night. Philly looked remarkably more like a team now that Owens is gone. However, he will likely absorb all the blame for the Eagles’ record. His attitude shattered team rapport, and in the long run it’s very likely that he is the reason they haven’t played as a team (and consequently lost). I don’t think this is the typical Philly boo-wagon - everyone in this town wants him gone, even his quarterback. Trouble is, he’s not at the retirement point just yet. He may have to humble himself for a smaller contract, though, because no one’s going to sign him for what his contract says he’s worth. Ravens? They still remember his world-class snubbing last year and won’t even blink. Vikings? Why would they want his baggage when they just got done with their last PR disaster? Green Bay? After all, Owens said the Eagles would be better with Favre at the helm. Think Favre will be impressed enough to welcome Owens into the fold? :snicker, snicker: Dallas? Two words: star dance.

Anyone who needs a receiver doesn’t have the cash to sign him. In the end he’s going to take a pay hit for being such a world-class jerk. In a town where there’s only one king of the hill, Owens is going to get booed out. McNabb is there to stay, but Owens is expendable. Sorry, T.O. How much you want for that house in Jersey?

The sad part is, someone will try to look beyond all the garbage and try to find the diamond underneath. Unless Owens does an about-face in attitude, he’ll kill any team he plays for. The word for that is “cancer,” and he’s it. He’ll sow seeds of discontent and strife wherever he goes. Remember, a WR is only good if he has someone throwing to him, and usually QBs are the kings in town. Wide receivers don’t get to have the spotlight. Maybe he’ll learn that before he retires a bitter old man.

My calendar tells me today is Rosh Hashanah, so Happy New Year!

In other news I installed Opera. It’s great - it has just as many flaws as IE in its rendering engine. In fact the only difference I can see between Opera and IE7 (see this post for more info) is that Opera has more eye candy. Seriously.

There was a music department lock-in yesterday. Basically all the music faculty sat in the back of a conference room while the music grad students and seniors (to a lesser extent) evaluated the music program - what did we expect to learn, where can they do better, what arguments or lines of reasoning are out-of-date…that sort of thing. I think a lot of good will come out of it, and for now that’s all I’ll say. Short version is I got off all day yesterday and all morning today. If there was a time to do some more recording, yesterday was the day. And speaking of recording…

I earned a new-found disgust for the peach water tower in Gaffney this morning driving back from Charlotte. Let’s just say that it should be illegal to view the peach while driving on I-85 south. And yes, I said “this morning.” Technically I suppose it was still morning…is 1:00 am Tuesday morning or Monday night?

Finally, a note about my Birds. I’m a little distressed that the Eagles apparently sleep through the first half of their games, but woe be to anyone who is on the receiving end of their wrath in the second-half. I’d hate to be a Chiefs fan right now.

Philadelphia will be singing the praises of David Akers. Give him the Yo, Philadelphia! award. Give the second, third, fourth, and fifth-miler award. Throw him a parade. Throw him two parades. Give him the game ball, at least. The man was outstanding today. He came into the game against Oakland hobbled by a bad right hamstring. Opening kickoff he kicks, stumbles, and clutches his right hamstring. Penalty flag is thrown for an Eagles offsides. He kicks again, this time tripping and falling down, holding his hamstring. ANOTHER penalty. So we have Mike Bartrum, the long-snapper, squib a kick for a three-bounce kickoff that landed the Raiders 1st and 10 at midfield. They go to score a TD on the opening drive, and the Eagles have absolutely no way to kick off. All throughout the game, Bartrum three- or four-hopped the ball down the field for the kickoffs, and the Eagles’ D responded to hold them most of the time. But fast-forward through all the idiot plays McNabb called in the first and all the great plays he threw in the second. We’re down to 0:09 left in the game, score tied up at 20-20. Courtesy of a few gritty catches by T.O., Akers sets up for a 23-yard field goal. He limps onto the field, which is exploding with the noise of Eagles fans gearing up for what could be the game-winner. He sets, kicks, and…good!!! Now, under normal circumstances a 23-yard FG is nothing to write home about. It’s what announcers sometimes call a “chip shot.” But the fact that Akers could barely walk, let alone kick, says volumes about this kick. All the pre-game hype was centered around Moss vs. Owens - the top two receivers in the NFL going head-to-head. Who would come out on top? Owens, obviously - his catches were the keys to sustaining drives, while Moss’ catches were largely insignificant in the scheme of things. But Akers stole the show. Against all odds and in intense pain, he won the game. As soon as it went in, he raised his hands in victory and promptly collapsed on the field. He was helped off, tears streaming down his face. Joy or pain? Probably both. But he gave more than all he had, and the Eagles come away with the win.

…so who else’s brackets were flattened when KU lost to Bucknell tonight?? Thankfully that’s the only Sweet 16 team I’m missing right now. For the record, the Sweet 16 is: UNC/Florida, Kansas/UConn, Duke/Michigan St., Oklahoma/Kentucky on the one side, and Illinois/BC, Arizona/OK St., Washington/Louisville, and Gonzaga/Wake Forest.

Elite 8 is UNC/UConn and Duke/Oklahoma on one side, and Illinois/Arizona and Washington/Wake Forest on the other.

Championship is Wake Forest (over Illinois) vs. UConn (over UNC), with UConn taking it 85-76.

Yes, I’m guessing all over the place here.