As The Bard Would Say: “Thou Art Much More Wronger Than I Art”

Well, Dear Readers, I tanked that whole “bracket” thing. Oh well … it’s not the last thing that I’ll ever do poorly (interestingly, however, it does happen to be the first).

Andy Roddick beat Roger Federer. Yippee. For his next trick, Roddick will attempt to make everyone in America forget about tennis until Wimbledon. He’s off to a good start.

My NHL playoff preview: The Stanley Cup Finals will include zero number 1 seeds (it’ll likely be a 6 vs. a 7) and no one will watch. (Although the ratings will be on par with last year’s final, which just happened to be the lowest rated ever.) And before any of you nail me for bashing hockey, allow me this preemptive strike: Hockey is terrible. This year isn’t going to produce the Rangers overcoming a 54-year championship drought and it certainly isn’t going to be the 1980 “Miracle on Ice,” so get over it. The winner will inevitably be some team with a ridiculous nickname and no one will even remember it in two years. (Except for Barry Melrose, who happens to be the only man ESPN pays to watch this dreck. And on the topic of team nicknames, just who’s to blame for names like “Wild” and “Blue Jackets”? Good heavens…)

Someone will have to explain to me why it’s relevant what Matt Leinart does in the off-season. Isn’t it called the off-season because the players are off? When I take off from my job, I don’t have to give a recap of what I did or how many beautiful, underage girls I’ve funneled beer into. (Disclaimer: There is no proof that the girls photographed with Leinart were underage. And 4. On a usual day off, my number is 4.) I might get riled up if he was doing this at 11:30 on a gameday (although probably not even then since Leinart never starts a game anyway). The only way to truly police athletes while on their vacations would be to chain them up inside the locker room … and that’s risky because some of those girls might be into that sort of thing…

This year’s basketball Hall of Fame class is a good one. It must be strange, though, for someone like Patrick Ewing to go in alongside the player that dominated his position (both individually and in terms of championships), Hakeem Olajuwon. It must serve as a reminder of just how much more successful he was. It’d be like if Michael Jordan went in the same year as Reggie Miller.

(Extended side note: Miller will get into the Hall of Fame, but I think he’s largely overrated as a player. My half-brother (“half” because half of him is dead to me due to a wrestling incident when I was 8 years old) disagrees on the grounds that Miller hit a bunch of “big” shots in “big” games. So did John Paxon, Steve Kerr, Robert Horry, Michael Finley and Eddie Jones. The difference between these players and Miller? Their “big” shots were hit on the way to championships. None of them are Hall of Fame players, true, but being clutch in the regular season and first round of the playoffs is meaningless, therefore nullifying the “Miller for Hall of Fame” argument. Far be it from me to say that my brother is completely wrong on this one, but what I will say is that he’s no where near as right as I am. Or, at least, I’m not as wrong as he is.)

The Tigers are 0-6, which certainly makes my championship prediction for them seem a little silly. They’re officially done. And by “done,” I actually mean “off to a rocky start, but will likely rebound soon.” There’s about 250 games left in the season and already the talking heads are quoting outlandish stats like “no 0-6 team has ever won the World Series in a year ending in ‘8’ while wearing both an antiperspirant scented like a flower and navy socks.” While these things might be true, it’s an oddity and is in no way an illustration of a trend. Who keeps track of this stuff, anyway? They have 156 games to make up 6. I’ll repeat that: They have 156 games to make up 6. No worries … yet.

Not to contradict myself completely from one thought to the next, but my 2-3 Mets are done. Peel back that cellophane covering, stir and eat ‘em before they spoil even more. From this point on, I will only discuss the NBA’s Western Conference (East? There’s an Eastern Conference too?) and the NFL Draft. Miami Dolphins … you’re on the clock.