Thoughts while contemplating the meaning of life

Hehehe.

Pssst. Come a little closer. Don't tell anybody, but we have Curt Schilling. And Keith Foulke. And they're really really good. And I'm afraid if I say it too loud I might blink, and it won't be true.

Even though most of us were fully prepared to accept the fact that the 2004 Red Sox were destined to become the first team in the history of baseball to go 0-162 after they lost the season opener, Schilling comes in on Tuesday, throws 109 pitches, gives up a few hits and a run, and leaves the Orioles scratching their heads after six innings.

Sure, we said, but the Sox got through six innings plenty of times last season, it was always those last three that were really tricky. And we resigned ourselves to the fact that Keith Foulke was set to be the biggest waste of $24 million since... well, something else that cost $24 million. But then he comes in the ninth and gets the save with nine pitches. Nine! That's not even his shoe size! This is terrific!



I have to say, I was more than a little disappointed by Jim Nantz's performance during this year's Final Four. Where were the sappy, cheesy, heartache stories that we're used to? Sure there were a few, but I just don't think that Jim was working hard enough. Or maybe he just didn't have very good material. Remember back in the good old days when he had Juan Dixon? Those were some great games. Every jump shot Juan made was clearly a direct result of the time when he was four years old and his brother put a Band-Aid on his scraped knee.

Where have you gone Jim Nantz? Is it possible that working with Billy Packer has finally just sucked all of those creative, annoying juices that were always so perfect to make fun of right out of you? (Billy Packer could be an entire column by himself, but that's for another day.) I miss the Jim Nantz glory days. But never fear, the Masters is on CBS this weekend, and with any luck we'll be able to get some choice Nantz morsels. I can't wait.



For those of you waiting in suspense, I went to Jackson Hole over spring break to test out my theory that eastern skiers are superior to western skiers in every way, shape, and form, and all I have to say is: I told ya so. Maybe all the good skiers were just way out in the backcountry somewhere, but the people I saw sure didn't impress me too much. One thing the skiers at Jackson Hole were good at though was buying expensive equipment. EVERYBODY had great stuff. So if you define how good a skier is by how expensive his skis are, then I guess western skiers kick ass.



I feel it's high time I produce this list. The top five sports movies of all time, in no particular order are as follows: Rudy, Bull Durham, Hoosiers, The Sandlot, and Rocky IV.

Others receiving honorable mention: Rocky I, Rocky II, and Rocky III, Field of Dreams, Caddyshack, Tin Cup, Aspen Extreme, and the Karate Kid.

This is certainly debatable.

Among the worst sports movies of all time are: Rocky V, Mighty Ducks 3, Rookie of the Year, Angels in the Outfield, Space Jam, and all of the other Karate Kid movies besides the first one.

This is not debatable.



My fantasy drafts could have gone better. Namely, I could have not picked Mark Prior in the second round when he isn't even gonna pitch at all until at least May. Stupid stupid stupid. But I have to say, my pickup of Jay Gibbons in like the 15th round was more than admirable. The fact that a 100 RBI guy could slip that far is pretty amazing, especially when you consider the lineup that he's in this year. Also of note was a late Sidney Ponson pickup. Yes, I'm turning orange.



You may not know it, but the University of Maine is on the verge of taking over the world. Or at least the Fleet Center. The Frozen Four starts today with a UMaine-BC semifinal matchup, and I don't have tickets. Apparently the Frozen Four is a pretty hot item. Balcony seats were going for a few hundred apiece on EBay a few days ago. But lucky for you, the games are nationally televised. So don your Garth Snow jerseys everyone! The Black Bears are going dancing!



Has there ever been more of a Major League situation in real life sports than this year's Boston Celtics? Just like Rachel Phelps of the fictional 1989 Cleveland Indians, Danny Ainge wants nothing more than for the Celtics to miss the playoffs. That would get him a better draft pick. But those pesky Celtics keep managing to win just enough games to hang on to that last spot in the east. I just hope they don't have a cardboard cutout of Danny Ainge in the locker room that they peal a piece of clothing off of after every win.