Bobby Cox, the Grumpy Old Man

Let's play a little game of pick 'em:

Which of Bobby Cox's feats should we really be celebrating and glorifying?

His establishing the all-time ejection record after being told to hit the showers for the 132nd time on Tuesday night

OR

His guiding the Braves to an unprecedented 14 consecutive NL East titles

Well, let's see here, I think I'll select the latter. It's most definitely the greater accomplishment and provides a better indication of his managerial skills. However, on the "World Wide Leader in Sports" and several top-notch publications, Cox's newly established record is being treated like it is a bona fide achievement. And, to be honest, I simply don't understand it.

I can't fathom how the media can glorify the juvenile acts of a grown man. What did Cox really do to deserve the publicity for breaking John McGraw's record? The guy charged onto the field, screaming and spitting on umpires because he disagrees with the call. On many occasions, Cox has thrown an unmerited, unprovoked tirade. I mean, records are for intended to be bestowed upon athletes and coaches for honorable acts, not for throwing a fit and carrying oneself more like a bratty five year old than a professional Major League manager.

And, I hate to play the role model card, but, how what kind of precedent does this set for America's youth. Baseball is often depicted as the beautiful game. It's supposed to be the prefect game, essentially acting as a child's safe haven from violence and the World's gravest realities. A place where a youngster can learn how to conduct himself or herself through observing how the athletes, umpires and coaches conduct themselves.

Although, I'm beginning to think Cox is sending the message that if a child doesn't agree with something, he or she should simply show their frustration by kicking dirt, screaming and using profanity. Then, eventually, others will begin to take notice and that disobedient, unrelenting child earns recognition for the insubordinate behavior.

Call it a slippery slope, or an exaggerated claim. But ask yourself, isn't that exactly what Cox is promoting?

Irvin, the Most Articulate Athlete

Just like his playing days, Michael Irvin promptly stole the show at the Pro Football Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony on Saturday evening.

The speakers we preceded The Playmaker were decent, probably pedestrian at best. Bruce Matthews was bland, thanking God, and deservedly so, every opportunity he had. The sweat dripping from Thurman Thomas' dome was indicative of his speech: erratic and free-flowing. Besides Charlie Sanders waving to the camera and directing a "Hi, Mom," to his deceased mother, the other speakers lacked the charisma and spontaneity of Irvin.

Call me a homer, because I am a Dallas Cowboy aficionado, but Irvin's speech is easily one of the best ever by an athlete. Lou Gehrig's emotional farewell speech may have been more riveting at the time, but I think The Playmaker will soon supplant him and be regarded as the best ever with the microphone in a matter of years.

Irvin brought the viewer inside his mind, allowing us to examine his most central beliefs and values. He is a man of God, and he addressed that subject with more straightforwardness than any professional athlete, possibly with the exception of Deion Sanders and Reggie White.

With his faith on his sleeve and visible to everyone, Irvin spoke of his sons, specifically about how he prays that the are both better fathers and husbands than he. He also explains how he hopes they never make the same mistakes, as far as abusing drugs, he made when playing with the Cowboys. Then he delivers the line that resonated most poignantly with me when he mentions that God told him to instruct his sons to "Look up, get up and never give up."

Basically, Irvin crafted a speech, without notes or cue cards, that provided the viewers and those in attendance a glimpse into his life. He could have easily thanked high school coaches and spent minutes dwelling on the solid relationships his maintains with Troy Aikman and Jimmy Johnson , but, instead, he chose to address those issues that some still find mysterious. And after Irvin's tell-all speech, I'm quite sure no one we describe them as mysterious any longer.

Should We Call Him A-Roid?

Alex Rodriguez, Major League Baseball’s pretentious pretty boy, has reportedly fallen into the deep depths of the steroid controversy. Apparently, Stray Rod is an abuser of the synthetic syringe. But, I just cannot fathom A-Rod, the Golden Boy himself, stooping to such unscrupulous measures to guarantee his place in the discussion of Baseball’s best ever.

Well, wait one minute before we castrate the man. Remember the ancient principle, consider the source? This situation is exactly why that rule was created. Wheeler dealer, book peddling Jose Canseco prompted the discussion when he claimed he “had some stuff” on the Yanks third baseman.

Yeah, a really creditable source. NOT!

For anyone who hasn’t stepped into the “scandalous” section at Powell’s lately, Canseco wrote a book called Juiced a few years ago, calling out suspected steroid abusers like Rafael Palmeiro and Mark McGwire. Maybe he was right, but then maybe he was simply bankrupt and thought composing a book to shed light on former friends drug habits would garner enough money to crossover the poverty line. Regardless, where is the loyalty, Jose?

Honestly, I loathe A-Rod as a person. He is a greedy, selfish little brat. However, I have the utmost respect for him as a player. His skill set is about as rare as encountering water in the Sahara Desert. For that reason alone, I doubt he needs to bolster his performance level.

There has been a throng of suspected steroid users in MLB, such as Barry Bonds, Sammy Sosa, McGwire and Palmeiro, to name a few. Though, of the alleged abusers, Rodriguez is the least likely to be guilty in my mind.

A-Rod has been a consistent power hitter throughout his career. Since breaking into the Major Leagues in 1994, where Rodriguez had zero homers in 54 at bats, he has failed to reach 25 homeruns only twice. His numbers peaked in 2001-02, with 52 and 57 homeruns respectively. However, those were his first two seasons as a Texas Ranger, meaning his home ballpark was The Ballpark in Arlington, where the fourth most homers were slammed in 2002.

A quick glimpse at his physique unveils that he is a natural athlete. His muscles are not bulging out of his uniform like McGwire and he does not have a forehead the size of a melon like Bonds. The consistency argument applies again because, with the exception of his first couple seasons in Seattle, A-Rod has always looked the same. Sure, he has developed muscle mass over the years, but it has been in gradual stages. Reality is he has never arrived at spring training with 40 additional pounds of sheer muscle.

Looks like Canseco finally realized he as good as extinct in the public eye, or maybe he’s just broke again and needs to compose another tell-all book to ensure financial stability.

Desperate Times Call for Lazy Measures

Has anyone opened the sports page lately? Maybe frequented the most popular sports websites? How about tuned into your favorite sports talk show?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, then you're probably horrified beyond belief at the extensive coverage sports' recent misconduct cases are receiving. Seriously, every time I flip on the tube, pick up the sports page or tune into a sports talk radio show, I cross my fingers and pray that I will not hear the names Michael Vick or Tim Donaghy. Call me crazy, but don't ESPN and publications across the nation have any other material, because this repeating track is getting a bit old.

It may only be at the collegiate level, but I have some experience in sports media. For the most part, all levels of newpapering follow the same core principles, so I understand the excessive coverage to a degree. However, another primary rule of thumb for journalists is to search and probe for the next great story. Personally, I haven't witnessed much scouring for further details or evidence in the Vick or Donaghy cases.

Instead I've observed extended periods of journalists silently sitting on their hands, waiting for the next press release or personal statement to surface. Once NBA Commissioner David Stern speaks or Falcons' Owner Arthur Blank provides his opinion, the writers can snatch their laptops and peck away, producing another story to belabor the point that Vick's acts were heartless and Donaghy is a gambling fool.

From a fellow sports writer's perspective, these journalists and columnists should find another angle, or jump ship and cover a different story all together. It's not that difficult to explore alternatives. Actually, it's quite refreshing. These guys should give it s try, because the stereotype that sports writers are lazy and unmotivated is evolving by the minute.

Nathan's Debate 7/16- Dressed Up or Down?

I've decided to facilitate one of the sports-world's most controversial topics over the past couple years: the NBA Dress Code.

Briefly before the 2005-06 season, the NBA, led by Commissioner David Stern, implemented a dress code to which all players must adhere. Prior to the "business casual" dress code, players were allowed to express themselves, donning their favorite t-shirts, a variety of baseball caps, sunglasses, jeans and jewelry. The newly established put a kibosh to this self expression, and the outcry from players was widespread, permeating the entire nation. It seemed everyone had an opinion and weighed in without much coaxing.

Here are some articles that provide more in-depth information on this topic:

The official NBA Player Dress Code

Player reactions, including the likes of Tim Duncan, Grant Hill and Stephen Jackson candidly voicing their opinions

ESPN news story that gives a succinct account of the dress code

Reasons the NBA Player Dress Code is GOOD:
The NBA's blemished image (i.e. arrests, fights, Kobe's rape case) may improve
Players look more professional
To a degree, all players have a unified appearance
The Association can weed out clothing and accessories it deems inappropriate
Displays more respect for the game

Reasons the NBA Player Dress Code is BAD:
The players are all adults and should not be subject to such juvenile policies
Stern's attempt to erase the NBA's hip-hop culture could have racist undertones
Eliminating the hip-hop culture could have negative marketing implications
This policy infringes on the player's freedom of expression
According to many players, the "business casual" attire is uncomfortable

Swingin' for Steroids

Crack, smack and thud.

Those are the sounds fans in San Francisco have become all too familiar to hearing from Barry Bonds' 32 oz lumber. And after Bonds victimized another innocent bystander, taking Livan Hernandez deep on Friday night, the man who preaches, “In roids we trust,” has inched within five homers of 755 career diggers and a tie with The Homerun King Hank Aaron.

Like the 441 pitchers Bonds has smashed homers off, we, the loyal, dedicated baseball faithful, are becoming victims of his homerun record pursuit. The number that separates Bonds, representative of everything wrong in professional sports, from Aaron, a genuine, respectable slugger, is no longer triple digits, or double digits, or more than ten, even. I can count the number on one hand- five. One, two, three, four and five. That’s all BB needs until he can rightfully snatch the crown from atop Aaron’s head, where it fits so nicely, and place it just above his steroid-induced, oversized forehead.

I know media pundits and aficionados have grumbled, jeered and sneered at Bonds’ attempt to claim sports’ most heralded record for years, but now it’s time to turn it up a notch. Many are underestimating the significance this event holds in sports history. Bonds, a guy bound so tightly in steroid investigations that I’m surprised circulation to his extremities haven’t been cut off yet, is possibly five swings away from being recognized as the best homerun hitter of all time, and the fans that drive the sport suddenly don’t care. This is ludicrous, preposterous, ridiculous, and (insert any synonym for absolutely absurd).

Bonds chase of Hank Aaron and his sacred record has become a ticking time bomb on the verge of detonating, consequently destroying baseball as we know it. Tomorrow he might hit number 751, and the digital screen resting on the bomb’s side will clearly read “4.” Then the next day he hits 752, and the screen displays a “3.” Then two, one and eventually zero, or effectively the end of baseball. Fans will be rushing for the exits and managers resigning, because the game will then be over, complete, finished. We will all know the sport is bogus, as a quick glance at the huge scoreboard hanging above Major League Baseball reveals: Steroids 1 Baseball 0. The ugly syringe will have claimed victory, once and for all.

Wake up everyone and feel the urgency, because Bonds’ recording setting homerun isn’t going to be a line drive that barely clears the leftfield wall, no it will be a blast that forces baseball in the deep depths of obscurity. It might not transpire immediately, but soon enough baseball will be resting six feet under beside the likes of soccer, hockey and, most insultingly, the Winter Olympics. That is, unless we pipe up first.

A Quick Trigger Finger

After more than a month of bickering, heated discussions and national publicity, the “Great Portland Debate” has officially come to a close.

SportsCenter kicked off with a bang tonight, as "The Worldwide Leader in Sports" flagship program announced the Blazers' plans for the no. 1 pick in tomorrow's draft: We are taking the big man Greg Oden.

On one hand, I was relieved. The Blazers brass appeared to finally understand that stumbling across a legitimate seven-foot center is like finding a waterhole in a scorching desert- it doesn't happen often. Sure, Kevin Durant is talented and would've brought instant scoring power to a squad lacking a potent offensive attack, but every sane Portlander realized long ago that Oden's mountainous physique is the Rose City’s ticket to championship success.

Question the former Buckeye’s surgically repaired right wrist, and I will tell you he could bench 185 pounds more than Durant even with it less than 100%. Say Oden isn’t a polished offensive threat, and I will counter by rapping about his intimidating defensive presence that will keep pretty-boy guards and small forwards, like Durant, shying away from the paint for fear of getting swatted by the beast.

And, in regards to his offensive abilities, he is better than a raw Emeka Okafor, Andrew Bynum and Patrick O’Bryant, who was selected with the No. 9 selection last season. As he showcased in the NCAA Championship Game in March, Oden has a consistent hook shot and his around-the-basket skills make him a viable force inside for put-backs, tip-ins and alley oops.

While I was thrilled to find General Manager Kevin Prichard hadn’t choked with his selection, I was thoroughly disappointed that the announcement was so premature. Seriously, talk about ruining hundreds of draft parties and taking the air out of a suspenseful debate. WOW!!! Big mistake on Prichard and, most likely, Owner Paul Allen’s part. This move is analogous to telling a youngster what he’s receiving for Christmas hours before he feverishly rips into his presents the next morning. It just isn’t right in every conceivable way.

The only remedy to cure the heartbreak Blazer fans are felling after Prichard and Allen stole all their draft-day fun is to bring it back. Yes, this means Prichard breaking out the wheelin-and-dealin hat he donned last season when Portland reeled off a record six deals, dusting it off and single handedly generating some excitement with trade after trade. I expect he will deal Zach Randolph, as there is no longer room for his sluggish, banal game with Oden around, for a veteran small forward like Reshard Lewis or Richard Jefferson. Also, I hope he packages two or three of the four second round picks to acquire another first round selection.

So, the debate is now sadly and prematurely dead, but the fun might just be beginning for the Blazers.