The Beginning Of The End (Fiction)

The last meaningful baseball game I played was back in 2003. I was an 11-year old third baseman for my team, the Rangers, which compiled a 14-2-2 record throughout the regular season and cruised into the playoffs. After a dramatic semifinal victory over the Angels, we played against the Rockies in the championship game for my city's Little League organization. Had all gone according to plan, this game would've been the beginning of a bright future in baseball for me. In retrospect, it was the beginning of the end.

I was set to play the game of my life, but I couldn't even last a single inning. In my first at bat, I hit a screaming line drive over the center fielder's head for an easy stand-up double. As I was rounding first base, I twisted my right ankle. I hobbled back to first base after making the turn, even though the center fielder hadn't reached the ball. The pain was too much. Fortunately, I was stranded on first base when the top half of that inning ended, and I was swiftly replaced in the lineup.

For the rest of that game, I helplessly watched from the dugout as my team valiantly competed. Here I was, the team's best hitter, sitting on a wooden bench with an ice pack around my right ankle. Adrenaline helped to dull the pain, but I couldn't walk without limping, much less run. Still, I cheered my teammates on, knowing that it was all I could do. I stopped cheering in the final inning, when a teammate threw a wild pitch to score the winning run for the opposing team. Watching them celebrate and donning championship gear was like a dagger through my heart. I was able to keep my composure long enough to join in a post-game hand shake, but I bawled my eyes out when I got to my parents. When I returned home, I vowed never to like anything related to the Rockies, and I cried myself to sleep.

If I were a spectator watching that game, with a close eye on my younger self, I'd see a pudgy boy who inadvertently matured in front of a group of strangers. He initially was in over his head, trying to do too much in a game where team effort wins out in the end. Watching him at first base with his head down and hands on his knees, wincing in pain, served as an unfortunate reminder that the mind and the body don't always operate in synchronicity. But my perception of him would change as the game wore on. He didn't sulk, he didn't pout, and he didn't shut up. He encouraged his teammates to fight on, even when all hope seemed lost near the end. In a way, it's better than he lost because he showed a lot of character in a time of adversity. That deserves more recognition than any postseason banner.

As for the game itself, it was just a game my younger self believed was life or death. What I should've realized is that sports, much like life, can be real humbling real quick. The following year, I played my final season of Little League baseball. It was an ignominious ending as my team, the Cardinals, went a paltry 3-15. I converted into a pitcher, went 2-7 as the staff ace, and the only reason I had any success on the mound was because I intimidated most of the kids on the opposing teams with my size. My hitting statistics dropped substantially and, after a year of bench warming in junior varsity baseball as a high school freshman, I gave up my aspiration to be a professional athlete. That was in 2006, and the following year, I found myself cheering for the upstart Colorado Rockies in the World Series. It's been an interesting turnaround since that championship game, but looking back, I'm glad me and my team lost. It refocused my priorities, reminded me to be meek, and put others before self. Those principles I learned on that diamond many years ago have proven more valuable in my life than any natural diamond on Earth.

Rock On... Jim Rome Leaving ESPN For CBS

Welcome, what is up! Thanks for clicking onto Rock Talk! I've got a great Friday post for you. You'll get my take on the now defunct television show known as Jim Rome Is Burning (JRIB), how big of a guilty pleasure it was, how the show was Jim Rome's wet dream come true, and what walking away ESPN means for him going forward. Let's get burning!

Fire Extinguished
First of all, what an amazing run this show had. From May 6, 2003 until today, Jim Rome polluted the biggest sports network for thirty minutes with his cynical rants, condescending interviews, look-at-me forum segments, and cheesy correspondent pieces every Friday. Noxious gases were practically spewing from his mouth through the TV screen. Nauseating! Hey Jim, was having a three hour nationally syndicated program on the airwaves and being the 36th most influential radio host in 2011 not enough for your ego? Apparently not. You just had to see yourself on television, didn't you? Because here's the big deal, it's one thing to have a background working in television as a springboard for spawning your own TV show. It's a whole new ballgame when you're thrust into television because you happen to be a radio personality. And don't give me that rebuttal of being on TV all these years is a sign of viewer loyalty. It isn't, that's just what happens when your television show is on the sports conglomerate known as ESPN. You wouldn't have a fraction of that loyalty if you were on some little regional sports network somewhere in southern California where you reside. The people who've tuned into your afternoon TV show all these saw a man who wanted more and more attention than what was offered on the radio. And with your departure to CBS starting in April, you've just turned the audacity knob up another notch.

Pyromania
And yet, there was something about JRIB that kept me coming back for more year after year. Maybe it's because his show preceded my favorite ESPN show in Around The Horn. Maybe it's because he had a sharp wit to match his acerbic tongue. Maybe it's because he actually made a few valid points amidst his ramblings. Who knows? Either way, it extended my afternoons into an hour and a half block of must-see sports talk shows with JRIB at 4:30, Around The Horn at 5:00, and Pardon The Interruption at 5:30. That started probably around 2006. All of a sudden, Jim Rome went from some guy I never even knew to a guy whose show, dare I say it, I actually looked forward to when I came home from school every weekday. Talk about classical conditioning. It's like every day I went without watching his show, God killed a kitten somewhere. And I like cats. A lot. Ergo, I made a conscious effort to watch JRIB every day I could. So to that, I say thanks Jim for helping save the lives of hundreds of kittens. The world is a lot furrier thanks to you.

Some Like It Hot
Now don't think Jim Rome gets off that easily. He may have lived the dream of every sports fan in America by mouthing off his opinion and getting away with it on TV for nearly nine years, but he's a double-edged sword, to be sure. He's the kind of friend you want to punch in the face every time he talks smack about your favorite athletes and teams, but he's also the same guy you'd take a bullet for if he ever defends your favorite athletes and teams. He's as entertaining as a group of monkeys wearing propeller hats blowing on kazoos, and what he lacks in the entertainment department, he makes up for with his soundbites he'll drop ad nauseam on the radio. While their usage was thankfully curtailed on JRIB to an occasional cameo, it just meant more time for him to talk about how he's right, and how everything he says is gospel. And pray tell, is that goatee of his on purpose? Because nothing says antagonist greater than a goatee. And it would surprise me none if he knows all of this, too.

Fanning The Flames
The irony of it all is that Jim Rome's not going off the air anytime soon. It was reported earlier this month that his coverage with CBS will begin with the Final Four of the men's NCAA basketball tournament. Great. I've got one more reason not to tune into March Madness. First, CBS got rid of Gus Johnson (ha ha?), and they counter that by adding in Jim Rome. That's a lot like Fox replacing the legendary Pat Summerall and hiring Joe Buck as his successor back in 2002. And play-by-play commentary hasn't been the same on that network since. Even more daring is that Jim Rome will have a similarly formatted show to his old ESPN program simply called "Rome" on Showtime. Wow. On the originality scale, the score for his title would be in the red. Just when you thought he would simply stick to radio, he's taking his television act to an even bigger audience. I wonder if his head size will expand by a few eighths of an inch during this time. Guess I'll have to find out come April.

I wanna thank Jim Rome for being such a big target for me to aim at. Can't wait to see you on a big time network and your pompous attitude in all of it's glory. And thank you for reading my Jim Rome-esque burns. See you next time. I am out!


Jim Rome portrait courtesy of SportsBusinessDaily.com

Leaving Aggression On The Field

In the world's most popular sport on the world's biggest stage, the pressure to win is paramount. For German soccer forward Birgit Prinz, she had the biggest burden to carry. As the longtime face of her country's national team, they were hosts of the 2011 FIFA Women's World Cup and looking to win an unprecedented third consecutive title. Had they reached the championship game in Frankfurt, it would've been held in Prinz's hometown where she also played professionally for 1. FFC Frankfurt. It couldn't have been scripted any better, but more questions than answers were raised by her performance, or lack thereof.

After failing to score in close one goal victories in Germany's first two opening round games, commentators close to the German team urged for head coach Silvia Neid to pull Prinz out of the starting line-up. At the time, Prinz was 33 years old and arguably the most prolific scorer in the history of women's soccer. She was to Germany what Abby Wambach is to the United States. But unlike Wambach, Prinz was eventually benched for the final game in group play against France. She was also benched for the quarterfinals, where Germany was stunned by eventual champion Japan in the final minutes of extra time. She played a total of 109 minutes and had zero goals in the tournament.

It's difficult to play down the role of an aging superstar, like Prinz, without a media backlash. After 128 goals in 214 apperances for the German national team, one would think that Prinz would be given the benefit of the doubt, especially in her home country. But with the emergence of a few up-and-coming German soccer players, coupled with a right ankle injury she suffered weeks before the Women's World Cup, Prinz became an easy target. Though she later admitted her poor play warranted a benching, she referred to the media criticism as a "witch-hunt."

What she went through was unique due to her skills and circumstances, but the way she dealt with the negative criticism can be applicable to just about any athlete. When it comes to leaving aggression on the field, it's ultimately best not to take any criticism too personal. Whether one plays an individual or team sport, the overall record one shares means nothing to critics. They will find fault with practically anything one does, so it's wise to avoid giving them additional reasons to overanalyze one's game. It's equally important not to let emotions, positive or negative, get the best of one's attitude. Discouraging comments can bring unnecessary attention, but statements made after an important win can prove troublesome, too. Finally, understand that the game is just a game. Sports certainly play an entertaining role, but life is more than just scoring goals or winning championships. However, the life lessons learned in sports are invaluable. By appropriately dealing with criticism now, one won't be intimidated by the pressures of life later.