Is One Enough for Cuban?

Wed, 18 Jan 2012 20:49:00 -0500

I’ve never seen Mark Cuban happier or prouder than when he was standing behind Barack Obama at the White House earlier this month. Cuban’s title team was there, accepting accolades from the President. I was happy for Cuban. No professional sports owner has had to endure so much pain en route to a championship. He deserved to bask in that glorious moment.

Yet, as I was watching the President butcher Dirk’s name, I couldn’t help but wonder if the Mavs would ever get to go to D.C. again--outside of a scheduled game against the Wizards?

Something else I can’t answer: is Mark Cuban satisfied with just one title? Or, is he as hungry today to win another one as he was in quest of the first one? Human nature would say that he is not. However, there are those rare, ultra-competitive animals in the world of sports who are able to operate outside of normal human nature. Jordan and Kobe. Nicklaus and Woods. Brady and Montana. Merckx and Armstrong (had to work some cycling names in--sue me). They crave wins. They crave championships. They are never satisfied. They are always looking for a new edge. They don’t want to just break records, they want to put those records out of reach.

Does Mark Cuban feel that way? Does Dirk? Here’s cutting them some slack if they don’t. It was long, arduous climb for both to the top of the mountain. So what if they don’t want to summit Everest again? Isn’t once enough?

For most Mavs fans, I would say the answer is yes--once in enough. Dirk cemented his legacy with his championship. Cuban confirmed his methods. Mavs fans will die happy, especially getting a title in a year when most never thought it possible. There are few things more satisfying that that. But Jordan’s tummy wouldn’t be full--not even close. Is Cuban’s?

What makes me question Cuban’s desire at this point is the Tyson Chandler situation. I’m not saying bring back last year’s team. You can move on without Barea, Butler, Peja, Brewer and Stevenson. But short of getting Dwight Howard to move to Dallas, you can not move on with the same ambition without Chandler.

Chemistry matters in the NBA. The 2004 Lakers proved that by losing to a Pistons team that they should have blow out of the water. Even last year's Miami team showed that shear talent can't beat great chemistry. And nobody brought the chemistry of the Mavs together like Chandler. By all accounts, he was the most important chemistry add (on and off the court) in Dallas history.

This is not to say Chandler is Howard or Shaq or Kareem. But the Mavericks searched for 30 years to find a center that could play defense with a passion and an infectious spark. Chandler became the first Maverick center ever named to the NBA’s All-Defense team (and finished 3rd overall in the Defensive Player of the Year voting--something no Mavericks player at any position has ever sniffed). Dirk called Chandler the team’s MVP (obviously Dirk was the MVP, but point taken). Observers around the league agreed that without Chandler, Dallas would have had a hard time winning the title.

The annual NBA GM’s poll was released this week. Their pick to win the West? OKC got 69% of the vote, followed by the Lakers (17%), Portland (7%) and San Antonio (7%). Dallas got no votes? Does that perhaps indicate the value of Chandler? I’ve never seen a defending champion dismissed by the experts quite like this, outside of the Bulls post-Jordan.

Chandler almost single-handedly changed the defensive culture in Dallas. For years the Mavs had good teams, but could never win a title because they couldn’t play front-line defense. Every year we would hear about “the layup drill” it was for the opponents attacking the Dallas basket. Over those years, Cuban overpaid a host of underwhelming centers (Bradley, LaFrentz, Eschmeyer, Dampier, Diop, Haywood). So why not overpay the center that finally locks down the middle and helps you win a title? It doesn’t make a lot of sense. Is Chandler still a health risk? Yes. Was it a lot of money for a so-called role player? Yes, but to call Chandler a "role player" is to greatly demean the role that he played in Dallas. Would it have made the Mavs a strong title contender this season? Yes. Are they as good without him? Clearly not.

Maybe Cuban believes that last year was a lightning-in-a-bottle season. Maybe he thinks they got lucky and he doesn’t want to press that luck. The West was down, the Heat hadn’t figured out how to win yet, and a magical chemistry overcame the Mavs for a few months. Serendipity, as Jerry would say. And, maybe he’d be right about all of that.

Maybe Cuban believes that he’ll land Howard and Williams--that those two are dead-set on coming to Dallas to play with an aging Dirk and a young...well, a young...Roddy B? Maybe he’ll pull it off. I would never say never when Cuban is involved.

If saying goodbye to Chandler means saying hello to Howard and Williams, then it was obviously worth parting with Chandler. Anything short of that, however, will leave us all wondering if the Mavs could have squeezed another title out of the Dirk era. Perhaps that doesn’t matter to a lot of folks around these parts. I wish I knew if, deep down, it mattered to Cuban--or if that one trip to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue was enough.

Obsessed with 26.2

Wed, 07 Dec 2011 14:18:00 -0500

As a life-long cyclist, I never had much time for (or much interest in) running. I did, however, always wonder if I could run a marathon. Once I turned 40, I decided to give it a try. This past Sunday (two weeks shy of my 46th birthday), I completed my 8th marathon. I am obsessed with the 26.2 mile distance, and there are many reasons why.

There is a fascinating science behind running a marathon as fast as you can. So many little things go into such a big effort. My first marathon (White Rock, '07) was a blur. I was so nervous about the race that I slept only 45 minutes the night before. Once the race began, the energy gels I had tucked in my waistband immediately fell to the pavement. I started to fall apart at the halfway point. I ran in a panic the entire way. I finished in 3 hours, 29 minutes--shy of my goal of 3:20 (my Boston Marathon qualifying time). I couldn't walk for a few days. I was only starting to understand the difficulty of the process.

Experienced marathon friends of mine had told me "You'll learn something every time you run a marathon, and that'll make you better in your next one." Indeed, over the last few years, through trial and error, I've learned a great deal about my body and my mind. I've learned what kind of training works for me and what doesn't. I've learned what kind of diet works for me and what doesn't. I've learned what kind of mental approach works and what doesn't. It's one big, ongoing experiment, and that's what makes it so much fun. There is nothing more exciting than lining up at the start on race day knowing you are 3 hours away from finding out if your methods and theories will work or not--and finding out just how far you can push your body and your mind. The results can be euphoric or depressing, and that's the beauty of it all.

I got a little better in my second race (Athens, OH, '08). A 3:25, but I fell apart with two miles to go--I had massive hamstring cramp that brought me to a standstill. My third marathon was a disaster (Eugene, OR, '09). I was coming off of a stress fracture in the fall, and my training in the spring had been subpar. But, I talked myself into thinking I could run a 3:20 because I had performed well in some tune-up races. But the marathon is such a different beast from any other kind of foot race. If it were 20 miles long instead of 26.2, it would be considerably easier. Something happens at mile 20. They say the 20 mile mark is halfway in a marathon, and they're right. That day in Eugene I hit the wall so hard at mile 20 that I could barely walk. My hotel was on the race route at mile 22, and with my eyes crossed and my legs and brain feeling like jelly, I quit the race and headed straight to my room.

That fall, I ran the New York City Marathon. I went in with few expectations, and finally ran a 3:20. One of the happiest days of my life--I had finally qualified to run Boston, which I did in '10 and '11. My times in my last few marathons have always been around 3:20, with a best of 3:18 at Grandma's Marathon in Duluth last June. At age 45, I was starting to wonder if I could go much faster. I knew that at some point I was going to start to slow down, I just didn't know when.

So, this fall, I changed a lot--the ongoing experiment continued. After a huge plate of ribs in August--and an afternoon of feeling like crap--I decided to change my diet. I cut out almost all red meat, chicken, pork and dairy. I ate more fresh fruits and vegetables. I also changed my training--instead of running my long, 20 mile training runs at a fast pace, I ran them easy. That plan left my legs fresh for my speed workouts during the week, and it also led to fresh feeling legs on race day. I discovered that I was wearing myself out during training, and often arriving at the start line in less than optimal shape.

I also changed my mindset. I started racing without a watch. This was a major move. I ran a personal best in the half marathon in October with no watch--I just went on feel. It was awesome--very liberating. I recommend it to anyone. I will never run another race with a watch again.

I also read an interview with legendary triathlete Mark Allen (Inside Triathlon, Nov '11) that changed my way of thinking in a race. Allen dealt with a lot of mental demons early in his career. He couldn't ignore the negative thoughts during a race--when he was feeling bad, his mind kept telling him to quit (the same voices most of us hear). He finally figured out how to deal with the bad times during a race--he had to train his mind to to find a certain place:

"Once you give in to the negative thoughts during a race, you almost always slow down--you're almost always done. But, I found it too hard to keep pumping myself up with positive thoughts in a long event. The best place to be is between the two thoughts. It's the most powerful place. There is a silence, and in that silence you find the answers to the problems you may be having. Or you'll just feel an ease, a grace, a calm.

If you can find that space where your mind goes quiet then you don't need a positive thought to keep going--you're not thinking and analyzing and thinking if it's good or not good. You're just there putting one foot in front of the other, and all of the sudden you can feel this ease wash all over you--all over the muscles in your whole body. And then you're not really attached to whether you do your best time or don't do your best time--you're just giving your best effort that you have. And when you're in that space, all of the sudden possibility just opens up for you. And you can just feel it. You feel like "wow, maybe I can" even though you're not really worried if you do or don't. It's just this space that's like awareness--you're aware of everything going on around you but you're calm and not talking and not judging."

Wonderful advice. Advice that I put into practice last weekend. I ran the California International Marathon in Sacramento. I was feeling great in mind and body. We had perfect weather: clear, calm and 40 degrees. I ran with the 3:10 pace group until I had to let them go at mile 20 (halfway!). My goal was to run something under 3:15, but after mile 20 I had no watch and no pace group, so I had no idea what pace I was on. I ran on feel, as hard as I could, just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other--trying to find the place between the two thoughts. I finished in 3:13:38--a five minute personal best. I was elated. I was also very satisfied to know that my methods and theories had been validated--and happy to know that at almost 46 years old, I wasn't slowing down yet.

So, the obsession with the distance and the process continues. I've told myself that I won't stop running marathons as long as I keep getting faster. So how much faster can I go? Well, if I can keep chopping five minutes off of my time each race, I'll be able to run a near-world record time of 2:05 or so by my 60th birthday. Something to shoot for.

Why I Love and Hate College Football

Thu, 10 Nov 2011 16:26:00 -0500

Growing up in Oklahoma, I had no choice. College football was the sport. You followed the Sooners. You cheered for the Sooners. You lived and died with the Sooners. OU football was (and still is) the number one religion in the state, and if you weren't a follower, you were excommunicated. I didn't mind, because I truly loved it. There was nothing better than a football Saturday in the fall. Billy Sims and the Selmon brothers were gods to us. Even now, my favorite day of the year is in October when OU plays Texas. The color and energy of that day and that game can't be topped.

College football is a wonderful sport. The stadiums, the tailgating, the uniforms, the cheerleaders, the rivalries, the Heisman, the bowl games, the cheating, the drugs, the child rape scandals. Wait, somehow we just got way off course...

Unfortunately, there is a dichotomy at work here. While the greatness of college football can't be denied, it also can't be denied that big-time college football is the dirtiest, seediest sport in this country. Bar none. The Penn State scandal brings to light just how far a program will go to the dark side in order to preserve its image and its income. We’ve always known that it’s par for the course for programs to cover up paying for players and doctoring grades, but covering up a child rape scandal? Even the biggest college football sceptic couldn’t have thought this was possible.

I don’t ever want to hear “they do it the right way at such-and-such school” again. Nobody does it the right way in college football, where the only way to survive is to do it the wrong way. Dave Bliss was a card-carrying Christian Soldier, but turned out to be the dirtiest coach in the history of college basketball. I was always told that Joe Paterno “did it the right way” at Penn State. We now know how laughable that really was.

Where there is big money at stake, and high-paying jobs at stake, and school pride at stake, there will always be those willing to cheat the system in order to win games. Always.

We’ve heard for years that college football is “cleaner now than it was in the 70’s and 80’s.” That’s just not true. College football is dirtier than ever before, because the stakes are higher than ever before. The NCAA released a study last year: 53 of the 120 FBS schools had been found guilty of major violations from 2000-2010. Almost 50% of programs were dirty in just the last ten years! Common sense tells you that the percentage of guilty programs is probably much higher--those 53 schools were the ones caught cheating, but how many more got away with it? Over the last 75 years, 90% of FBS schools have been found guilty of major violations. In other words, everyone cheats, and most get caught. And yet, the cheating continues.

I call it the mentally-ill world of big-time college football. There is something about a college football program that warps a person's perspective. There are also reprehensible things going on in religion (the many, many sex scandals, most notably in the Catholic Church) and politics (sex scandals, cheating, lying, crime) and big business (corporate greed, cheating, lying, crime). None of it is right. But in the cases of religion (not the football kind) and politics and even some some businesses, we are talking about things that run the world, things that wars are fought over, things that people die for. But college football? It’s a game, or so we are led to believe.

I've known of friendships ended because of college football. We've read stories of beatings and vandalism and even murders over college football. For a frighteningly large number of people, their favorite college football program is more important to them than their family, friends and career--and sadly, they have no idea. They can't see the forest for the trees, unless the trees are killed by a crazy Alabama fan.

I can insult a religion or a political party or a business on our radio show, and I’ll get some feedback. But if I insult the Longhorns, Aggies, or any college football program, I’ll get death threats. I can’t explain what makes people lose their marbles when it comes to their favorite college football team. For some reason, college football bragging rights mean more than doing the right thing. In the case of Penn State, bragging rights meant more than protecting young boys from a serial rapist. How does anyone explain that?


Jerry Sandusky is a monster. We see now that Penn State was willing to go to great lengths to cover up the actions of this monster. Why? Because they didn’t want to soil the great reputation of Joe Paterno and Nittany Lion football. Because they didn’t want to toss a wrench into the money-making machine that is Penn State football. The only way a monster like Sandusky survives for that long is to work within another monster--in this case, the other monster is a big-time college football program.

There are few things I love more than college football. But it’s getting more difficult by the day to keep that love affair alive. Conference realignment, the BCS, drugs, cheating, and the win-at-all-costs mentality make the sport difficult for me to fully embrace. In a professional sport, we almost expect cheating and drugs and scandal. But college football, we are told, is about competition and education and apple pie. Then, we learn about Joe Paterno covering up a child rape scandal. Joe Paterno, who does things the right way.

There is no right way. Not anymore. Not in college football. Not as long as they’re keeping score.

Who Would Have Thought?

Mon, 17 Oct 2011 19:44:00 -0400

Thirty eight years. That's how long it took the Texas Rangers to win a playoff series. Forty nine years, if you count the Washington Senators era. That's a long period of baseball futility. And now, this. The World Series. Again. A half-century drought, followed by a two year deluge. We must be dreaming.

Two or three years ago, did anyone see this coming? The honest answer is no. It's been an unlikely journey--as unlikely as any I've ever seen in DFW sports history. Consider all of the "who would have thought" examples this growth process has provided:

The Lovable Losers -- The Rangers were the American League version of the Cubs. They were never going to win anything. That was their fate. We had all accepted it. It was good enough just to have baseball in this town, and to be able to go to the Ballpark and eat a hot dog, drink a beer, and watch other good teams come through. The Rangers had never been on anyone's radar as a serious World Series contender. Even going into last season, they were picked by nobody (other than Nolan Ryan) to win the AL West. Spring Training, 2010: who would have thought the Rangers would win back-to-back AL flags?

Nolan Will Lead Them -- When Big Tex was hired as team president, did anyone think it was going to be anything more than just a figure-head role? Help sell a few tickets, sign some autographs, and sit there like you care. Who would have thought that Nolan would prove to be the most important sports hire in this town since Jerry hired Jimmy to coach the Cowboys? Nolan completely changed the culture in Arlington. He demanded more from everyone, and he commanded respect while doing so.

The Kid Turns it Around -- The first two years for John Daniels as Rangers GM were not great. He was just 28 years old when hired, which caused some giggles--and his first few trades caused even more giggles. It seemed he was on the wrong side of everything. Then, in the summer of 2007, the Teixeira trade happened--the Rangers got Feliz, Harrison and Elvis, and the mojo changed for Daniels. Since then, practically everything he's touched has turned to gold: the Cruz deal, the Murphy deal, the Hamilton deal, the Lee deal, the Napoli deal, the Lewis, Vlad and Beltre signings, and on and on and on. Who would have thought that after such a shaky start as GM, he would now be regarded as one of the best, if not the best in the business. And he's stocked the Rangers farm system--the future is bright.

Wash Keeps His Job -- Spring Training, 2010: we learn Ron Washington tested positive for cocaine after indulging at a party during the All-Star break the previous summer. Most thought Wash either would be or should be fired. He wasn't, and the rest is history. Who would have thought that, as he's telling his story to the media that afternoon in Surprise, that 18 months later he would be managing the Rangers in the World Series for the second straight season?

The Comeback -- He always had the ability, but he also had a lot of baggage. Just a few years ago, as he's in and out of rehab (and banned by Major League Baseball), who would have thought that Josh Hamilton would have an MVP trophy on his shelf and would be the dependable linchpin of a Rangers offense that has helped carry them to back-to-back pennants? If anyone saw this coming, raise your hand. I didn't think so. I bet deep-down, Josh didn't either.

These Guys are in the Rotation? -- Again, Spring Training, 2010: who would have thought that relievers CJ Wilson and Alexi Ogando, along with Japanese import Colby Lewis, would turn into consistent, if not dominant, starters in a World Series-caliber rotation? Really? Who saw that coming? Part of the amazing transformation of a once-laughable Rangers pitching staff. Much credit to Nolan and Mike Maddux for helping work small miracles.

Young Again -- Spring Training, 2011: who would have thought the Michael Young story would have turned out this well? It seemed the Rangers had run out of places to play Young, and would make a trade. Young and Daniels had words for each other--it appeared to be a bad situation. But what happens? Young stays, and has one of his best seasons in what has been an amazing career. He turns into even more of a leader, and helps the Rangers put away the Tigers with a strong finish in the ALCS.

Nap Nap -- When the Rangers acquired Mike Napoli, it looked like a nice pickup. Who would have thought it would turn out to be one the best pickups in franchise history? A guy with a reputation as a so-so defensive catcher suddenly blossomed in that role with Texas. Meanwhile, at the plate, he blew away his career highs in HR's, RBI's and batting average. Who would have thought that Napoli would hit more home runs than Hamilton while playing in fewer games? Amazing.

Cruz Control -- Spring Training, 2009: Nelson Cruz is seen as a prospect who may never get it done at the big-league level. He can hit 30 home runs a season in the minors, but bring him up to the show, and he's nothing but a fly-ball out. Then, it happens. Cruz gets it. He figures out major league pitching, at age 28. 33 home runs, and an All-Star game nod. In March of 2009, who would have guessed that Nellie would go on to hit 6 HR's in the ALCS a few years later--a record that may stand forever?

It really has been an incredibly unlikely journey, and I've loved every minute of it. As a card-carrying Dr. Pepper Junior Ranger, I never thought I would see the Rangers in the World Series. And now it's happened twice. For the franchise that could never catch a break, everything is suddenly working out for them. It's a serendipitous time, and nobody saw it coming. Which makes it even better.

All Hail, The Uniform Czar!

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 19:05:00 -0400

In the first, and perhaps last of a series, I turn this blog space over to a special guest columnist. This week, we hear from an old friend of mine who would like to say a few things about the crazy turn uniforms have taken in the world of college football:

Hello, I am the Uniform Czar, and I am very angry!

(cue thunder and lightning)

I would like to thank Craig for allowing me to be his guest columnist this week on his immensely popular blog. Craig has always been great about honoring my wishes, and about helping me get my message to the public.

Let me start by saying that this is a sad time for the Czar. The 2011 college football season has brought great suffering. Some of the uniforms being worn this season not only fly in the face of tradition and fashion sense, but they are so offensive that they seem to be flipping off Lady Liberty and the rest of this great nation. And I won't stand for it. Which is why I'm sitting down to write this.

(cue rim-shot...I used to want to be a stand-up comedian, please forgive me)

We should have seen these atrocities coming. It started many years ago, with the Hitler of uniforms in this country: Oregon. Phil Knight and his Nike Gestapo started the trend of tricking things up (although I'll admit that Oregon had bad colors to begin with, so they've always been cursed). Under the watch of their evil 'Athletic Director' Knight, Oregon shocked the football world with what appeared to be joke uniforms back in the mid-00's:




There is no doubt that Knight is the Antichrist. He has now taken things to a sickening level, introducing his new Nike Combat series. He has taken some classic looks and turned them into something a DISD school wouldn't wear. He is messing around with the very fabric of the sport (get it!). On opening weekend, we were 'treated' to Georgia's new look. Why would they get rid of those classic, identifiable uniforms in favor of these abominations?




The answer? Because Phil Knight is the devil. He knows nothing about and cares nothing about tradition (because he's from Oregon, a school with zero football tradition, save for Dan Fouts). He care about money and money only. He wants to create new looks that will prey upon the weak-minded video game crowd, hoping to brainwash a new generation of jersey-buyers.

It's not just Georgia he's messing with. His wicked ways have infiltrated LSU, Stanford, Michigan St and Ohio St:




In terms of pure aesthetics, the Czar does not oppose some of these looks. The new LSU uniform is not offensive per say, but the point is this: LSU has one of the most classic looks in college football, so why tamper with it?

Oklahoma St is another big offender. They, like many schools, break the cardinal rule of wearing solids on solids. The only time a team should ever wear solid on solid is white on white. Anything else is right out, like OSU's black on black the other night against Arizona. If your eyes can take it, here are the new OSU looks for 2011:




Someone sent the Czar this work-up of the new Texas Longhorn uniform. Let's all hope they were joking. If not, the Czar will officially concede. I will have lost the battle. I will retire. I will finally move out west and run that small vineyard that I've been dreaming about. If this happens, the rapture will be upon us:




There is some hope, however. If history tells us anything, we may be able to take back ground soon. I remember a very bad time for uniforms in Major League Baseball in the 70's and 80's (remember the horrible Astros and White Sox duds?). Clubs eventually realized the error of their ways, and went back to the more traditional looks that we enjoy today. The same thing happened in the NBA in the 80's and 90's (remember the tie-dye Nets uniforms, or the crazy Nuggets color montage?), and we eventually found our way back to old-school uniforms. It's cyclical, and I feel like we will work our way through this bad patch. It may take ten years, but we'll eventually get back to basics.

We saw an indication that things might not get too out-of-control last week, when Michigan and Notre Dame met. Adidas tricked up each school's look, but not in an overly-offensive manner. They were throwback looks for two teams that already wear throwback looks. In fact, the Czar approved:




The Czar is willing to accept these changes. As with any negotiation, each side must be willing to give a little. I will go along with traditional powers like Michigan and Notre Dame making 'throwback' changes to their uniforms, as long as I never have to set my eyes upon the new Maryland uniforms again. If they aren't the worst uniform of all-time, they are in the discussion:





As the all-knowing, all-ruling and all-conference (back in my days as one heck of a linebacker) Czar, I beg of you: please do not support the new trend in college uniforms. Help me fight the good fight. We can win this battle. Support tradition. Support clean, crisp looks. Support the proper color combinations and the proper jersey/pants protocol. Don't let the Phil Knight influence get to Penn St, or Alabama, or Oklahoma, or USC, or Texas. Let's work our way through the current ugliness. In the end, we may be scarred from our battle, but our country will be better off.

God Bless,
The Uniform Czar

PS: I leave you with my favorite college football uniforms of all-time: