The Sports Truth

In the running back’s defense, San Francisco Coach, Mike Nolan, has been to Germany. And the new member of the Jets has apologized for the following remarks, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth running:

“He walks around with a chip on his shoulder, like he’s a dictator, like he’s Hitler,” Barlow said after he was traded. “People are scared of him. If it ain’t Nolan’s way, it’s the highway.”

And a coach that rules with the proverbial iron fist NEVER wins anything. Pat Riley, as coach and GM of the Heat, didn’t just win the NBA title. Bill Parcells has never won a Super Bowl. Lord knows Ozzie Guillen is a gentle, flexible manager.

Barlow is an idiot. We are at least glad he tried to take back his comment: “I was kind of harsh on him, saying he’s a dictator. That’s bad. Saddam Hussein is a dictator.”

(Pssst, Kevan, so was Hitler).

But the running back is just lucky Saddam is so understanding. When reached for comment, Hussein said he had no ill feelings towards Barlow, but was still upset at the former Niner for ruining his fantasy football season last year.

So, let us get this straight: Marion Jones was married to an admitted steroid user; her former coach has pled guilty to distributing performance enhancing drugs; and she just happened to have rediscovered her winning form this year after a series of abysmal races.

No wonder the sprinter described herself as “shocked” after her initial drug test from a June sample was positive. Who could’ve seen this coming?

The comments, issued by her attorney, Howard Jacobs, were the first by Jones since it was first reported on Friday she had tested positive for the banned blood-boosting drug erythropoietin (EPO).

Doing her best Floyd Landis impersonation, the former Gold Medalist diddnt address for what substance she tested positive. But Reuters previously reported that according to her coach, Steve Riddick, Jones told him in a text mesasage that she had tested positive for EPO.

“I was shocked when I was informed about the positive ‘A’ sample,” Jones said in the statement. “I have requested that the testing of my ‘B’ sample be expedited and done as soon as possible.”

According to multiple media reports citing sources familiar with the case, Jones’ “B” sample is scheduled to be tested on Sept. 6.

If this also tests positive, one of the biggest stars of the Sydney Olympics would face a minimum two-year ban from competition. And sports fans everywhere would be left to wonder who else has been juicing.

Not Barry Bonds, we’re sure.

I don’t know anything about the Indy Racing League. Maybe it takes the potential of facial hair to drive exceptionally well in it. Perhaps you need to burp a lot or possess a tendency to scratch yourself in order to be a success. I wonder about these issues and what it takes to consistently win races in the IRL because of a question that’s been nagging me for the past few weeks:

What exactly is the big deal about Danica Patrick?

As a rookie driver on the circuit, Patrick did pretty well for herself. A fourth place finish in the Indianapolis 500 landed this beauty on the cover of the most prestigious sports magazine in the world. With just seven laps to go, she was the first female driver to ever lead this renowned race. Nevertheless, Patrick has never actually won a start.

If not for her gender, she’d be completely unheard of, just another faceless driver making a lot of left turns in a sport that’s more ignored than professional hockey.

Due to the overwhelming media response of her mere presence in a race, many are left to wonder if this winless woman deserves such attention before she has legitimately made her mark in the league. Not me. Even if Patrick breaks every record in IRL history, my response will remain the same: So what?

Why is it so impressive that a female can drive a race car as quickly as a male can? Are those that are celebrating Patrick’s achievement actually demeaning women everywhere by exhibiting such fervor over the fact that she can compete against the opposite sex?

As long as a woman has access to the same resources as a man does (engines, pit crews, sponsors, etc.), I fail to understand why she cannot be successful. This isn’t a sport that requires brute physical strength, or greater lung capacity, or the need to urinate standing upright. An athletic, viral female such as Patrick needs the same traits as any male counterpart in order to speed into victory lane: drive, determination, talent.

Are these traits that the media and fans across the nation are surprised a woman can actually possess?

You remember Liz Johnson, right? Oh, sorry, you don’t? In November, 2004, this resident of Cheektowaga, New York became the first female to appear in a standard Professional Bowler’s Association event when she qualified for the PBA Uniroyal Classic. She accomplished this feat by averaging a very respectable 230.44 in the qualifying rounds, beating out a handful of testosterone-laden adversaries in the process.

For her accomplishments, Johnson received a one-paragraph blurb in the same magazine that touted Patrick on its cover.

Similar to race car driving, bowling is not a gender-specific activity. Mammary glands do not exactly get in the way. Anyone with passion for the sport can succeed against the top competition, so why has Patrick garnered such vast acclaim while Johnson is completely unheard of? The most obvious answer is superficial - with no disrespect to Ms. Johnson, Patrick is quite easy on the eyes.

Beauty sells, even in opposition to accomplishments (see Kournikova, Anna). Stick a racing suit on an athletic, 100-pound body of a women with long brown hair and a winning smile and prepare the marketing machine.

The other answer speaks more to a stereotype against females; namely, they can’t drive. It’s an age-old joke: Why can’t Helen Keller drive? Because she’s a woman. Whether it’s a valid point or not, the supposed softer gender has a reputation for hesitance and danger on the road. And now - gasp! - someone with ovaries is actually driving really quickly! And really well! Against men! This must be worth hours and hours of coverage and analysis.

The shock and awe regarding Patrick’s feats simply encourages the belief that women are not supposed to be successful in an arena that had previously been dominated by males. Granted, any firsts in sporting history are worth noting - yet I somehow question whether Patrick would stand so firmly in the spotlight if she were simply the first Jamaican man to lead the Indianapolis 500. Or the first person named “Danica.”

These traits are about as arbitrary as one’s gender, a fact that should only be glossed over when discussing what Patrick really is: a very good driver having a very good rookie season.

Patrick isn’t to blame for this outpouring of attention. She’s posed for magazines and agreed to every interview, but these outlets have sought her out. What reason would she have to turn them down, especially as they earn abnormally high ratings for each race that she appears in?

There’s no doubt that she’s good for the IRL, but is Danica delirium good for the image of women in general? If a woman driving impressively causes such a nationwide ruckus, what does that say about society’s view on females and their abilities? Can’t we just take notice of the difference in her cup size from fellow drivers and move on?

Patrick seems willing to: “I am ready to show everyone that I belong here. I believe I’ll show them I can do the job.”

Let’s just give her that chance.

As fantasy football has taken over every office cubicle in the country - and as the NFL sits atop the American sporting landscape - a pressing debate has emerged:

Would You Prefer a Fantasy Football Championship Over a Super Bowl Victory for Your Favorite Team?

I speak from experience. While I agonized along with every yard of the 49ers’ game-winning march down the field years ago, and while butterflies dart around my stomach during tense moments of professional contests every season, I’ve played in fantasy football title games. I’ve cursed, I’ve broken into sweats, into hives, cheered, booed and stood slack-jawed at the results on screen as my team - MY team! - rallied from deficits to bring home the championship.

This has occurred in each of the past two seasons and I can safely hold my head up high to state: you can have your Lombardi Trophy. I’ll take the gratification of superior drafting prowess and in-season decision making. My friends can eat it!

As Jerry Seinfeld once opined, cheering for a specific team is like rooting for laundry. Sure, I’m a 49ers fan. I grew up idolizing Montana. So now I should live and die with each pass by … Alex Smith? I should have rooted for Terrell Owens earlier in his career, but now it’s ok to bash him for the selfish cretin that he is because he’s no longer wearing red and gold? They’re only jerseys, there’s no more personal attachment to clubs. Especially in this era of free agency, you’re following a concept more than a franchise.

The opposite holds true with fantasy football. These are my guys, my squad. My decisions will drive the outcome of each game, as waiver wire pickups such as Joe Jurevicius and Samkon Gado helped catapult the team into championship contention last season. In the world of fantasy football, I’m personally invested in the results and players involved. In the world of professional football, other so-called general managers control who I’m rooting for. Where’s the fun in that?

Face it, when your favorite team wins it all, you never touch the Lombardi Trophy. You’re riding the wave of other people’s accomplishments, complete strangers, often times very spoiled ones at that. Pretty soon, I’ll forget the feeling of my father’s arms clutching his celebratory young son. Our smiles will fade from memory like the career of my boyhood idol. But I’ll always brag to my friends about the years I demolished their dreams of a fantasy football championship. No one can ever take that away from me.

– Levi Matthews

But here’s the thing. While this experience is one that I will not soon forget (or stop talking about, much to the chagrin of my friends), I would trade it for a New York Giants championship in a heartbeat. I might even do the same for a mere playoff appearance. While significant, the excitement generated by crunching numbers, managing a non-existent franchise and talking enormous amounts of trash to your friends pales in comparison to a team you have supported since birth making a run at the Super Bowl.

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Brace yourselves, American soccer fans, you both may be upset about the following news:

After rising as high as number-five in the FIFA monthly rankings earlier this year, the United States has dropped all the way down to 23. For Michael Jordan and LeBron James? A quality number. For world soccer rankings? Not so much.

Brazil remained at the top, despite not even making this year’s World Cup final. Italy, Argentina, France and England rounded out the top five.

Now that the U.S. has fired Bruce Arena, perhaps we’ll fare better in 2010. Maybe Freedie Adu will make the squad. Maybe critics around the world can stop criticizing Americans for only caring about soccer every four years. It’s not like they ever care about the NFL!

The Pittsburgh Steelers and Head Coach Bill Cowher are no longer negotiating an extension to a contract that runs through 2007. The team announced that it has ceased talks so he can focus on coaching the returning Super Bowl champions.

The team, which has had just two coaches in its 38 NFL seasons, has long had a policy of not negotiating during a season, but wants to renew talks with Cowher once the season ends.

This is the first time since Cowher was hired in 1992 that he’ll enter a season with as few as two seasons remaining on his contract. He and the team had been discussing an extension since shortly after Pittsburgh won the Super Bowl in February.

“I remain optimistic and hopeful that we will be able to conclude a contract extension which will keep Bill coaching the Pittsburgh Steelers for many more years,” Steelers President Art Rooney II told ESPN.

“However, we have all agreed that at this time we will continue those conversations after this season so that Bill’s focus, and the focus of the entire organization can be on the excitement and challenge of defending the Super Bowl championship.”

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Let this be a lesson to all those kids who are thinking of injecting themselves with testosterone the evening before a major cycling event: you’re hurting more than just yourself in the process.

When Floyd Landis joined the likes of Barry Bonds, Sammy Sosa, Justin Gatlin and every other athlete that ever took performance enhancing drugs, he killed more than his own cycling career. It appears as though he’s ended that of Team Phonak, as well.

Owner Andy Rihs said this week he’s been unable to find a buyer for his team since Landis, who should be stripped of his Tour de France title any day now, was busted for doping.

“I’ve had to do something I’ve never done in my whole life: Give up,” Rihs said.

Cue the violins, sports fans. No way the team knew about Floyd’s drug stash, right? After all, only 10 other doping cases have been brought up against the Swiss-based team since it was created seven years ago.

That’s not even a full dozen!

The Swiss hearing-aid firm had already decided to pull its sponsorship because of doping issues. American company iShares, a subsidiary of Barclays Bank, was to replace Phonak as title sponsor in 2007, but the deal was called off after Landis’ positive doping tests.

Rihs contends the Landis doping scandal led to the shutdown of the team.

“I am deeply disappointed because what he did was what led to this decision,” Rihs said. “I would never say this is a bad person because he played bad. I regret what he has done for him, too.”

And we’d never say Rihs was a phony because he spewed fallacious words. We regret what they have done to him, too.