Pitying Poor Peyton

As an old-school kind of sports fan, I tend to like guys to who have old-school values.  I like players who are personable, but not over the top.  I like guys who are honest and take responsibility for their mistakes.  I like guys who have built their legacies with one franchise, and who know to go out on top instead of stumbling to the finish line.  I like guys who give plenty of credit to their teammates and coaches, but at the same time aren't afraid to take some of the credit for themselves.  I like players who work hard and succeed even though they might not be the most athletically gifted guy on the planet.  In short, I like guys like Peyton Manning.

And that's why it's been painful for me to watch the saga that is Peyton's current relationship with the Colts.  After almost singlehandedly turning the Colts from the league's doormat into a consistent Super Bowl contender, Peyton seems to be getting an extremely raw deal.  The Colts have the number one pick in the 2012 NFL Draft, and they'd be crazy not to take Stanford QB Andrew Luck.  At the same time, Luck's shadow already seems to be pushing Manning out of Indianapolis.  Some fans are calling for him to be traded.  Others have accused him of making things difficult for team management.  More are caught between backing a guy they've loved for the last 15 years and siding with a guy who might lead them for the next 15.

Peyton's in a rough spot right now.  If he comes back with the Colts and the team struggles (which they likely will, given that the team finished 2-14 this year), will fans be awkwardly calling for one of the game's all-time best players to be benched in favor of an unproven rookie?  If Peyton goes to another team, will he be able to cement his legacy as perhaps the best QB of all time by leading yet another disappointing team (the Jets, maybe?) to the Super Bowl?  Or will his second act be more like Brett Favre's (minus all of the lewd SMS messaging, of course), where he'll struggle to regain his footing in a new environment and tarnish everything he's built over more than a decade in Indy?

If Peyton calls to ask me for advice today (it seems unlikely, but you never know), I'd advise him to retire this offseason.  From a health standpoint, Manning is coming off of serious neck surgery and doesn't want to risk suffering a life-altering injury that could negatively impact him for the rest of his days.  On the field, Peyton has nothing left to prove - he's won a Super Bowl, been NFL MVP and developed a reputation as the best QB of his, or perhaps any, era (the Colts' struggles without him this year truly prove just how valuable he is).  The Colts are going to select Andrew Luck in the NFL Draft, and with a new GM and coaching staff will probably want to hand him the keys sooner rather than later.  If Peyton Manning retires now, he can go out on good terms with the fans, the Colts and, most importantly, his own inner thoughts.

NFC Championship Recap

Trailing only Team USA's dramatic last second victory over Algeria in the 2010 World Cup, Sunday's NFC Championship game at Candlestick Park between the Giants and the 49ers was probably the most satisfying sporting event I've ever seen in person.  Between the game's extremely high stakes (a trip to the Super Bowl to face New England), overtime drama (Lawrence Tynes' field goal to win it after 49ers punt returner Kyle Williams fumbled for the second time in the game) and intense atmosphere, leaving Candlestick Park with a huge victory made the extremely inconvenient Caltrain ride home feel like a walk on the beach.  Overall, Sunday was a fantastic day, and I couldn't have been happier with the experience.

We all know that the Super Bowl is more media production than actual sporting event - for most people, the commercials, halftime show and pregame hoopla matter more than the game itself.  I've always thought of the NFC and AFC Championships as the last true NFL games of the season, focused purely on the competition rather than game presentation.  Now that I've finally attended an NFL championship game, though, I realize that isn't the case.  The NFL and the 49ers tried to turn the game into a mini Super Bowl, with a pregame performance from the band Train and a halftime show featuring country music star Brad Paisley.  While Train's performance was decent and somewhat relevant (their new hit song is called "Save Me, San Francisco"), the Brad Paisley set was a completely random celebration of the U.S. military and seemingly came completely out of left field, leaving virtually everyone in attendance confused.  The national anthem featured a giant, 100-yard-long American flag that I must admit was pretty awesome, though.

A bigger flag signifies a bigger event, and the NFC Championship game featured one big-ass flag.

Before the game I was slightly worried about how the 49ers faithful would treat a couple of guys wearing Giants gear, but for the most part I found the fans to be pretty respectful.  While before the game I was the subject of a view aggressive remarks from random drunk San Francisco fans, the people that sat around us in Upper Reserved Section 9 were really friendly.  It seemed like after so much losing in past seasons, the Niners fans were just happy to be hosting the NFC Championship game and weren't expecting more than a competitive contest and a fun afternoon.  Even after the game, the fans gave the 49ers a standing ovation for their effort and then congratulated us on the Giants' win, wishing the team luck in the Super Bowl.  While I was expecting a much harsher atmosphere, what I saw was a general respect for the game of football and an appreciation for what the 49ers unexpectedly accomplished this season.

The Giants rush the field after earning a trip to the Super Bowl.

While the 49ers fans were loud in the beginning of the game, over time they definitely ran out of steam.  The weather definitely had something to do with it - it rained periodically throughout the four-hour contest, and eventually I think many fans were just too wet or too cold to get properly excited about the game.  The fourth quarter and overtime were extremely tense, though, and Giants and 49ers fans alike were on their feet throughout the last hour of the battle.  I couldn't have asked for a better finish, and outcome, from my first ever NFL playoff game, and I give San Francisco a lot of credit for putting together a great event.  Now it's up to the Giants and Patriots to make Super Bowl Sunday as exciting as Conference Championship Sunday was.

25 Years of Bad Shots

Before reading this post, please note that I'll be spending tomorrow at Candlestick Park for the NFC Championship game between the Giants and the 49ers.  Follow me on Twitter (@mlbwhiz) for periodic updates and musings from the game.

I spent much of the afternoon today watching college basketball, and throughout the day ESPN has been celebrating the 25th anniversary of the three-point shot in NCAA hoops.  The network has featured a countdown of the top college three-point shooters of all time as voted by the fans (by now you probably know how I feel about fan voting . . .), and commentators from every game have been talking about how the three-ball has added nothing but excitement and drama to the sport.  As I listen to all of the hoopla surrounding the three, I have to wonder if I'm the only one out there who disagrees.  Not only do I not think the three-pointer adds much good to the game of basketball, I'd prefer the sport if we got rid of it altogether.

At this point, you probably just think I'm one of those smug basketball purists who talks about how much better the game was in "the good ole' days" and laments the loss of the mid-range jump shot.  And, to an extent, you're correct - I do think the three-pointer has trivialized the portion of the game played in between the paint and the three-point line, and simplifies the sport into a series of dunk attempts and three-pointers.  And who can blame players for playing this way and coaches for taking advantage of the now-25-year-old rules?  The fact is a good three-point shooter cans 40% of his attempts, for an expected value of 1.2 points per shot attempt.  Other than dunks, few players can average close to 60% on two-pointers (the percentage required to get the expected points per shot to equal out).*  Throw in the fact that missed threes often result in long rebounds that the offense can more easily grab and turn into an added possession, and it's no wonder that the three-ball has become so popular over the last quarter decade.

So yes, the three pointer is too easy to make (on a relative basis) and, as a result, the shot is frequently attempted; some teams revolve almost their entire offense around it, and even the beloved (or, depending on who you ask, hated) Princeton Offense features far more threes than backdoor cuts in recent years.  Perhaps more significantly, though, the shot causes the last two minutes of a college basketball game to look nothing like the first 38.  People often blame the foul rules for the fact that the end of a hoops game features a drawn out series of free throws, but I blame the three pointer for this quirk.  The three makes a comeback of almost any size a realistic possibility, and as a result teams will begin fouling regardless of their deficit with the hope that they can shoot their way back into the game.  Instead of being rewarded for building a ten point lead with just over a minute to play, winning teams need to worry about the possibility of getting fouled, missing a few free throws and having a series of treys by the opposition knot the score.

To me, it doesn't make sense that for the first 38 minutes of a game the sport of college basketball revolves primarily around two-point shots, but during the last couple of minutes it all comes down to ones (free throws) and threes.  Unlike baseball, the game is not played the same way from start to finish, and more complete teams can lose games to inferior clubs who go on a shooting spree at the end of a relatively close game.  To me, I'd rather see games won or lost for an entire 40 minutes, not just during the final two.  Getting rid of the three-pointer would strengthen the emphasis on basketball fundamentals (Passing!  Moving without the ball!  Boxing out!  Posting up!) and help eliminate the sluggish two minutes that conclude virtually every NCAA basketball game. 

*Note: I know I'm ignoring the probability of getting fouled, which is admittedly higher for a two-point shot versus the three.  That being said, I still think my point is valid.

Long Live Indoor Football

On what was a comparatively slow day for football news, ESPN.com reported that former NFL standout wide receiver Terrell Owens has agreed to play this season for the Allen Wranglers of the Indoor Football League (IFL), "a 16-team league consisting of teams from various states, including franchises in Green Bay, Sioux Falls, Chicago, New Mexico, Wyoming and Nebraska."  Wranglers' co-owner Jon Frankel has openly revealed that "[Owens] has an ownership stake" in the team, and acknowledged that the decision was mostly based on business, not on a passion for playing indoor football.  It's this last part that's a shame, because indoor / arena football is an awesome game, and a motivated T.O. could bring big time publicity and media exposure to a sport badly in need of some positive press.

I've talked often about my how my fondness for the NHL's New York Islanders is largely motivated by the fact that the Isles are Long Island's only professional sports team.  When I was in high school, however, this wasn't technically the case.  At one point, the Islanders ownership purchased the Arena Football League's (AFL) Iowa Barnstormers (former team of NFL Super Bowl champion Kurt Warner), moved the team to Nassau Coliseum and called them the New York Dragons.  I used to go to Dragons games all the time - there was so much to love about the AFL.  Tickets were affordable and, unlike at other sporting events, the ushers didn't care if you moved down towards the field if there were empty seats (which there pretty much always were).  The games were incredibly high scoring (once I saw the Dragons put up 99 points in regulation) and filled with long pass plays, essentially cramming an entire week's worth of NFL passing highlights into one three hour period.  There were numerous opportunities to interact with the players before and after games, and you could even go onto the field after the final whistle and attempt a few field goals.  Dragons games were, in a word, fun.

Unfortunately, the Dragons are no more.  Over the last few years the AFL has had a bunch of financial problems and ended up taking a season off to restructure the league and alter the business model.  Part of that restructuring involved getting rid of a number of unprofitable franchises, and although the AFL is now once again operational, the New York Dragons were one of the victims.  Today, Nassau Coliseum is again home to the Isles and the Isles alone.  Luckily, the Dragons were able to leave one small-but-somewhat-permanent mark on Long Island sports history.  The Islanders' mascot, Sparky the Dragon (see below), was originally the mascot for the Dragons.  When the Islanders were looking for a new mascot a few years ago, fans overwhelmingly voted in favor of giving beloved Sparky the NHL gig, and he remains the face of the Islanders despite the disappearance of his AFL team.

Formerly an AFL mascot, Sparky now works for the NHL's Islanders.

In honor of the Dragons and Sparky, I'll be rooting for Owens to succeed as a player / owner for the IFL's Allen Wranglers.  Indoor football is an exciting, fan-friendly sport that more fans should get the opportunity to enjoy.  If Owens can motivate people to take in some more arena-style football, then potentially leagues like the AFL can solidify their footing and once again establish a presence in major media markets.  San Jose has an AFL team - the Sabercats - that I hope to see play at the HP Pavilion before the end of the school year.  After all, it's what the Dragons would have wanted.

Another Lucky Bounce

When I started this blog in April of 2010, I had two concerns.  The first was that I wouldn't be able to motivate myself to keep writing regularly.  Thankfully, my continued enjoyment with blogging and the support that I've received from my small-but-loyal pack of followers has turned this into a non-issue.  My second worry was that I'd run out of material, particularly because I would soon be a fan of East Coast teams living on the West Coast. Without local New York area games to attend, what would I write about?  Could I find enough Bay Area sporting events that were simultaneously worthy of Caught Looking coverage, worth my hard-earned money and interesting to my audience?

In this second regard, I couldn't have been more fortunate over the past fifteen months.  The New York Giants' victory over Green Bay yesterday, which results in them heading to nearby San Francisco for the NFC Championship game this coming Sunday, is just the most recent example of how sports scheduling and circumstances have fallen my way over the past year and a half.  On Sunday, I'll be attending the Giants vs. 49ers game in person, which will be the second time I've had the chance to see the Giants visit Candlestick Park this year.  Had San Francisco instead come up short this past Saturday, however, I'd be watching at home as Big Blue traveled to New Orleans.  Here's a review of the good sports-related luck I've received since I moved to the Bay Area in September of 2010:

• My two years at Stanford happened to coincide with arguably the two greatest seasons in Cardinal football history.  I got to watch Andrew Luck, perhaps the greatest NFL quarterback prospect of the last two decades, in person and for free about ten times over the past few seasons, and attended high-profile games in-person against Oregon, Cal and Washington, among others.  I also got to see the Card play in two BCS Bowl games (albeit not in person) while I was a student here.  Who saw that one coming when I chose to enroll at Stanford?  The men's basketball team is also playing great this season, so maybe I'll get to witness an NCAA Tournament run, too.
• Despite only being in the Bay Area for the first two months of the MLB season, the Braves happened to visit the Giants at AT&T Park early last year.  I made my first trip to AT&T last Easter and, in addition to touring what has since become perhaps my favorite baseball park, saw the Braves win a dramatic road game.  Once I was back on the East Coast for the summer I got the see the Braves play numerous other times against the Mets at Citi Field and once against the Phillies at Citizens Bank Park, and though I'm not a Yankees fan I did make it to Oakland to see them play at the-stadium-formerly-known-as-the-Oakland-Coliseum, too.
• While I missed the Knicks' visit to Golden State this season (it was just after Christmas and I was still back in New York), last season I saw a Knicks victory over the Warriors at Oracle Arena in Oakland.  The Islanders don't visit San Jose this season, but last year they did and I was there to see them lose (of course) to the Sharks at beautiful HP Pavilion.  Seeing each team once in two seasons isn't bad, especially considering I went to other Warriors games at Oracle last year and plan to hit up another Sharks game at HP in the next couple of months.

As you can see, it's been a solid year or so to be a Braves, Giants, Knicks and Islanders fan living in the Bay Area.  Hopefully my luck holds out until the end of June, when I'm back on the East Coast for good.  Maybe if I root extra hard, I'll get a Knicks vs. Warriors NBA Finals?  While it seems highly unlikely, that's one of the best things about sports - a fan can always dream.

All-Star Absurdity

We all know that the NBA loves its All-Star Weekend and, to be fair, there's a lot to like.  Fans love All-Star Saturday Night, which is highlighted by the often-scripted but always-entertaining Slam Dunk Contest and also includes the Three Point Shootout and the Skills Challenge.  The league uses Friday night to showcase its up-and-coming stars in a game that matches the best rookies against the best second-year players, and Sunday's All-Star game itself is always loaded with star power both on and off the court.  In light of all this, we can't really blame the NBA for taking time out of an already-rushed post-lockout 2011-12 season to fit in a late-February All-Star Game in Orlando.

We can, however, criticize the way the NBA is going about selecting starters for the All-Star Game this year.  First, let me caveat the rest of this post with a disclaimer: I think that any All-Star game which selects its participants through fan voting is a joke.  If we want to have a Most-Popular game, that would be something else - players for that game should be 100% fan determined, and we could have Tim Tebow start at point guard for the Western Conference for all I care.  The All-Star game, however, should be used to recognize the best players in the league at the time of time game, and history has proven that fans cannot be trusted to distinguish "best" from some combination of "cool," "notorious" and "accomplished." What follows are grumblings about this year's process specifically, though in fact I'm against fan voting of any sort.

If you're still reading, let me explain where I take issue with the 2012 NBA All-Star ballot.  Apparently, a panel of media members were called on to determine which NBA players belong on the All-Star ballot this year.  In baseball, every player who finds himself starting on opening day (plus or minus a few exceptions) gets his name on the ballot.  The NBA, however, has determined that the media should pre-screen the players before the fans get to vote, limiting their options to 24 forwards, 24 guards and 12 centers per conference.  Don't ask me how these players were chosen, as there's seemingly no logical reasoning behind it.  Nevermind the fact that I can't vote for a guy like Iman Shumpert, who as a rookie has become an unexpected leader for my Knicks.  I also can't vote for Knicks starting guards Landry Fields or Tony Douglas even if I wanted to, but I have the option to pick D.J. Augustin, Anthony Morrow or Jose Calderon.  Why?  Beats me.

Despite the restricted ballot, I can still vote for this veritable Dream Team.

This season more than any other, I would think the NBA would be anticipating a lot of surprises.  With a packed schedule, fewer off days and less pre-season time to prepare, there's no telling who this year's top players will be.  In light of this, how does shrinking the size of the All-Star player pool make any sense?  If anything, shouldn't we be making virtually every player on an NBA roster available for the vote, to cover ourselves if players like Shumpert, Greg Monroe or Ryan Anderson have monster seasons?  And why let the media determine which players should be eligible for the All-Star game?  Sure, there's a write-in option, but we know nobody really counts those, right?

The NBA All-Star Game needs to decide what it wants to be.  If it's all about the fans and is meant purely for their entertainment, then let the people vote for whomever they want and don't restrict the ballot.  If it's meant to recognize the season's most accomplished players, ditch fan voting entirely and have some combination of the coaches, players and media determine who's most deserving.  In either case, the current system doesn't make much sense for anyone, and serves as another example of the league's failure to think this season through.

What's Not To Like?

It wasn't a great weekend to be a fan of the Pittsburgh Steelers.  Just when it looked like "Tebow Time" had finally run out - after three straight losses to close the regular season, it appeared that the sun had finally set on the Denver Broncos' miracle run, originally sparked when Tim Tebow was named the team's starting quarterback midseason - the Mile High Messiah propelled his team to victory over the heavily-favored Steel Curtain.  Had it been any other quarterback leading the upset, the notoriously passionate Steelers faithful would have been furious, vowing revenge against the perpetrator and cursing his name for all eternity.  That's why I was surprised to see the following posted on the Facebook wall of a die-hard Steelers fan: "Still proud to be a Steelers fan. Give Tebow all the credit in the world. He played great."

That's the thing that's so fascinating about Tim Tebow.  The fact that he's extremely polarizing as an athletic talent isn't all that interesting, as there are tons of players whose skills are admired by some and criticized by others (quarterbacks like Cam Newton and Mark Sanchez come to mind).  It's also not the fact that Tebow's transformation of the Broncos is so unprecedented; it wasn't that long ago that Vince Young led the Titans to a second-half resurgence, though the hoopla surrounding Young's run paled in comparison to the media circus following Tebow on an hourly basis.  Instead, I think the most note worthy thing about Tim Tebow is that, assuming you are a somewhat rational sports fan, hating him makes absolutely no sense.

I'm not normally one to gush over athletes, but I don't see what's not to like about Tim Tebow.  For one, all the guy has heard since he was drafted by Denver is that he wouldn't cut it in the NFL, and here he is winning a playoff game in his second season.  One of the first blog posts I ever wrote was dedicated to hard-working NBA reserve forward Lou Amundson who, as I wrote back in April of 2010, is "overlooked by every player [he] matches-up against, but would constantly frustrate them with [his] refusal to lower [his] energy level" and is known as "a good teammate and the type of 'glue guy' that keeps teams calm and collected during tough times and entertains everyone when things are going well."  Doesn't that sound like Tebow?  Aren't these the types of guys we're supposed to love?  Almost every cheesy sports movie is built around stories like Tebow's, and who doesn't love a good, predictable underdog-wins-in-the-end sports movie?

As fans, we spend so much time analyzing player personalities, and on the scale of NFL players I'll argue that Tebow seems like a great kid.  He's modest, self-aware and respectful.  You might take issue with his level of "religiousness," but you'd be hard pressed to argue that his attachment to Christianity is driven by anything other than true faith and a conservative, religious upbringing.  Considering how many professional athletes "praise God" after even the most mundane of athletic accomplishments, I find Tebow's relatively subtle and reserved on-field references to God to be sincere and appropriate.  You may not agree with Tebow's views of the world, but I think he deserves credit for being true to his beliefs and sticking to his guns despite a ton of institutional pressure driving him to appeal to a more secular, mainstream audience.

Compared to the other provocative things NFL players say and do, I find "Tebowing" to be unoffensive.

I have no idea if Tim Tebow will have longevity as a starting NFL quarterback, but I hope he does both for his sake and for the good of the league.  As an athlete, Tebow brings something unique to the table - his presence as the league's only true option quarterback adds an element of the college ranks to the pro game and once again shatters the constantly-evolving mold in which NFL quarterbacks are built, and he's an inspiration for all sorts of athletes who have been told that their unique styles don't translate to the next level (like Tyler Hansbrough and his lack of athleticism or Tim Lincecum and his small stature).  More importantly, though, Tebow's willingness to be himself is his most admirable quality.  Rather than try to conform to what an NFL player is "supposed to be," Tebow has so far managed to be himself both on and off the field.  How can you possibly hate on that?

City Slickers

While Caught Looking tends to concentrate primarily on mainstream American team sports - baseball, basketball, football and hockey - there's always room to mix in a more obscure athletic spectacle from time to time.  I spent my last evening in Manhattan (before I head back to California, that is) at Madison Square Garden, watching the season opener for the Professional Bull Riding (PBR) tour.  Years ago I went to a smaller-scale rodeo in Fort Worth, Texas, but had only seen bull riding on television before Friday night.  Though the MSG version of the PBR tour might not be completely reflective of what the circuit is all about, the event certainly brought some country-style fun to the typically urban Garden atmosphere.

Professional Bull Riding drew a very unique crowd to MSG.  While some of the people in attendance were legitimate bull riding fans - most likely transplants from other parts of the country now residing in New York City - more (like me) were there just to see what the event was all about.  Of the "non-fans," many appeared to be recent college graduates still stuck in the frat party mindset who saw the PRB tour event as an opportunity to throw on a cowboy hat, a short denim skirt and a pair of cheap cowboy boots and drink large quantities of overpriced beer.  There was a lot of excessive drinking (much more so than at a typical Knicks or Rangers game at the Garden), a lot of obnoxious twenty-somethings and a lot of valley girl accents all around us.

Once I got past the rather unsavory spectators in my section, though, I started to enjoy the event.  Unless you're some sort of animal rights activist, I'd bet you'd find the PBR tour extremely entertaining.  The bulls are giant, the riders are fearless and the rodeo clowns are humorous - usually unintentionally, but amusing nonetheless.  The PBR puts on a much more professional event than I anticipated, too - while the "playing surface" itself it little more than a ring of dirt, the riding area is surrounded by ad-covered fencing and is backed by a giant video board and a host of other bull riding-related advertising.  Though companies like Dewalt tools, Cooper Tires and Pabst Blue Ribbon beer don't normally secure advertising inventory inside the world's most famous arena, they seemed right at home plastered around the bull riding ring.  At the same time, the PBR did seem to try to appeal to a more modern, urban crowd by replacing traditional country background music with mostly hip-hop.

The PBR tour involves a lot more infrastructure than a simple ring of dirt.

The biggest negative about going to a PBR tour event is the lack of explanation as to what's going on.  When you go to a Knicks game at MSG, you likely don't think about the fact that it would be virtually impossible to follow all of the action had you never seen a basketball game before.  During the bull riding, the announcers don't say much other than the score given to the rider after each ride - you quickly realize what it would be like to watch your first baseball or football game.  After watching a few rides, I was able to pick up the basics - the rider gets points based on how long he stays on the bull and how violent the ride was, and the bulls are scored similarly but in reverse - but couldn't really follow exactly how the scoring worked and wasn't able to distinguish a challenging ride from a tamer one.  Though the PBR tour might hope that spectators can follow the action alone, perhaps in future years they should do a better job anticipating a less-savvy-than-usual crowd when they head to New York City. 

Cosmetic Changes Not Enough

Although it wasn't my first trip to the newly partially-renovated Madison Square Garden (I was there for Duke versus Washington last month), last night's Knicks game versus Charlotte was my first chance to really take in the various changes made to the venue.  Having arrived about an hour before tip-off, I got to walk around the newly remodeled 100-level concourses and take in the various upgrades - new marble floors, modern bathrooms, varied concessions and new seats now adorn the lower level of the world's most famous arena.  Look closer, though, and you'll quickly notice that all of the cosmetic changes can't really mask what's still the same old MSG.  The upgraded concession stands serve mostly the same old food, the new seats are already run down (it took us about 15 minutes to break one of our cup-holders), and the floors throughout the arena are still sticky from spilled beer.  While the arena might look a little different, it'll be a while before it's transformed into something truly great.

The same can be said of the New York Knicks right now.  While much has been made about the team's additions - including star center Tyson Chandler, veteran Mike Bibby and rookie Iman Shumpert - they're still the same old Mike D'Antoni-led, no-defense Knicks.  The game, which New York lost 118-110, wasn't nearly as close as the still-lopsided score indicates, as the star-studded Knicks were out-classed, out-hustled and out-played by a more aggressive Bobcats squad.  Boos rang from throughout the arena as the home team continually failed to get back on defense, contest open jump shots or challenge drives to the hoop.  It was as depressing an atmosphere as I've ever seen at the Garden, as if fans were for the first time realizing that, despite the team's cosmetic changes, they're still the same old Knicks.

MSG and the Knicks have a ways to go before any real changes are made.

As I periodically remind the readers of Caught Looking, the point of this blog is not to critique players, coaches or management for on-court performance - that's the job of the mainstream sports media.  That being said, I do feel a duty to call for coach Mike D'Antoni's head on the grounds that he's a terrible fit for New York's basketball culture.  Aside from the fact that I don't think D'Antoni's Seven Seconds or Less strategy can ever bring a team an NBA Championship (though what do I know?), I also don't think Knicks fans in particular will ever fully embrace a style of play that encourages rushed threes, lazy defense and limited rebounding.  Ask the average young to middle-aged Knicks fan who his favorite player is, and he's almost sure to name a player known for his defense and / our toughness.  Patrick Ewing, Charles Oakley and Anthony Mason are true modern Knicks heroes; I don't know if Mike D'Antoni's crew of shoot-first "superstars" will ever be viewed in the same positive light.

A professional basketball coach has two main jobs - to win basketball games and to please the home crowd while doing it.  Since he came to New York, Mike D'Antoni hasn't done much or the former and is currently doing an even worse job at the latter.  Just like the "new" MSG that I got to explore last night, the 2011-12 New York Knicks have made a bunch of cosmetic changes that, in reality, haven't changed anything.  What's more disappointing, though, is that the Knicks brass is hoping that the team, and their fans, will buy into a strategy that's simultaneously unreliable and un-New York.  If Mike D'Antoni wants to keep his job, he might want to think about embracing defense, both to win basketball games and win over the MSG crowd.

An Emotionless Ending

Having your team lose its last game of the season always sucks.  You're left with a bad taste in your mouth for the entire offseason, find yourself thinking about various "what ifs" for days or even weeks, and long for the next season to start so that your team can redeem itself.  When a final contest materializes as a close game and / or with the postseason on the line, these losses can be especially painful.  I'm still thinking about the excruciating way the Braves dropped their last three games of the season to the Phillies this past MLB season, squandering a seemingly guaranteed shot at the playoffs, and Princeton's failed buzzer beater attempt against Kentucky during the 2011 NCAA Tournament still finds its way into my thoughts from time to time.

I'm pretty sure, though, that Stanford's Fiesta Bowl defeat at the hands of Oklahoma State on Monday night won't ever be one of those games that keeps me up at night.  Although the Cardinal ended the Andrew Luck era in especially devasting fashion - missing a relatively easy field goal at the end of regulation that would have handed Stanford a three-point win, and instead losing in overtime after yet another missed kick - it hasn't bothered me much over the past two days.  As much as I now love Stanford football and spent so much time over the past two seasons rooting for and following the Card, the quirks of the BCS system don't really make Stanford's loss worth worrying about.

Postseason losses are so frustrating because they mean the end of the road for your team.  For teams like the Braves or Princeton basketball, losses to the Phillies and Kentucky, respectfully, meant that their seasons had come to an end.  I never got a chance to find out if Atlanta's young rotation and up-and-coming lineup could do some damage in the postseason.  I'll never know if Princeton could have pulled another shocking upset in the Round of 32 and become the second Ivy League school in a row to advance to the Sweet 16.  Their losses robbed me of those answers, and turned my questions into mere hypotheticals.  In NCAA football, there is no next playoff game, win or lose.  The difference between being Fiesta Bowl champions and Fiesta Bowl losers is surprisingly minimal.  Regardless of this game's outcome, Stanford was going back to Palo Alto without a shot at the National Championship.  Even if Stanford had made that kick at the end of regulation, their season would have ended, their journey over.

Of course I would much rather have had Stanford win the Fiesta Bowl than have lost it.  But the most exciting thing about professional sports isn't winning a championship - it's the journey that leads to a championship.  NCAA football's current BCS system robs fans of that journey, to a point where even the best teams - Stanford among them - have little to play for after the end of the conference season.  In a weird way, I cared much more about seeing Stanford get to a BCS Bowl game than about how they did in the bowl game itself.  Until fans get their much sought after major college football playoff system, the NCAA football postseason will always lack the passion and emotion associated with other sports.

A Tale of One City

While watching the third quarter of what would eventually be a division-clinching victory for the New York Giants over the Dallas Cowboys, I saw a commercial for Pepsi Max featuring New York Jets head coach Rex Ryan, quarterback Mark Sanchez and the rest of Gang Green.  Earlier today, I also watched the majority of the Jets' season-ending loss to the mediocre Miami Dolphins, but didn't see Giants head coach Tom Coughlin or quarterback Eli Manning selling any zero-calorie carbonated soft drinks.  All season, New York football has been a story of the Jets failing to live up to all the hype that surrounded them throughout the season, and of the Giants overcoming injuries and adversity to take the NFC East title.  Today more than any other this season, I'm proud to be a fan of the 2011 New York Giants.

While I'm happy that the Giants will get to host the Atlanta Falcons in the first round of the NFC playoffs next weekend, I'm even more proud of the effort that my Giants put forth the entire season.  From the start of the preseason, all I heard was talk about how the Giants were no match for the more talented (on paper, anyway) Philadelphia Eagles and Dallas Cowboys.  People wrote off Big Blue when they dropped their season opener in Washington, and again when they lost tough games to New Orleans, Green Bay and Philadelphia later in the year.  At the same time, many crowned the Jets as the AFC favorites before any games were played.  As a result, the Jets got the bulk of the endorsement deals.  At the end of the season, though, the Giants got the bulk of the wins.

Few people expected much from Victor Cruz or the rest of the Giants this season.

I'm the first to admit that there's no real rivalry between New York's two NFL franchises.  With the exception of last week, when the Giants beat the Jets at MetLife Stadium in what was technically a road game, the two teams rarely impact each other.  This year, however, the two battled for much more than the newspaper headlines - the Giants victory all but ended the Jets' season even before Gang Green played an uninspired game in Miami today.  On the flip side, Rex Ryan's constant trash talk fired up the Giants to the point that Big Blue not only took down the Jets, but rode the momentum through tonight's impressive and complete victory over Dallas.  As a fan of hard-nosed football, I couldn't be more happy about the way the regular season ended for the Giants - the team let their play do the talking, put together two of their best games of the year and earned a well-deserved playoff home game.

I don't in any way think that the Jets extracurricular activities - the commercials, the trash talking, the spotlight - had anything to do with the team's disappointing 2011 season, just like I don't believe that some sort of "No one believes in us!" mentality is what propelled the Giants to a strong finish and the playoffs.  Instead, I believe that the Jets were overrated from the start and that the Giants were deeper and better prepared than many people gave them credit for.  At the same time, though, the alignment between the Giants' blue-collar work ethic and NFC East title is extremely satisfying to Giants fans everywhere.  And I'd be lying if I said that the correlation between the Jets' sense of entitlement and late season collapse wasn't a little bit satisfying, too.