Cold

Video game enthusiasts are cold.

Frostbitten gamers across the country are coming to terms with the fact that it may be after Christmas until they can feel their frozen thumbs and try them out against their new Xbox 360s. Hundreds of gamers from coast to coast have been waiting in often-subzero temperatures overnight to acquire the season’s hottest gadget, the gamers’ grail.

I was at Best Buy on Saturday, where more than a dozen people had lined up outside with sleeping bags and lawn chairs, iPods and walkmans pumping out their favorite jams as they waited for the arrival of Best Buy’s next shipment of twenty-something units Sunday morning.

The season’s hottest gadget, indeed, had many waiting out in the cold.

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On Tuesday morning, more than seven million of New York City’s commuters were, well, cold. The transit worker union strike was the first in 25 years, and had many talking about the legality of the strike. While many commuters-turned-walkers were understandably confounded, several seemed sympathetic to the plight of the transit workers. As they trundled to work in below-average temperatures, many stopped to talk to reporters. With the wind chill dropping temps to a mere ten degrees, they may have been divided on the issue of the strike, but all agreed on one thing: they were cold.

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Last Friday saw the marriage between Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey turn cold. Officially. According to divorce papers filed by Simpson on Friday, the two have been separated since November 23. She sited irreconcilable differences as the cause for the dissolution of their three-year marriage.

Meanwhile, Jennifer Aniston politely denied counseling Simpson on the divorce, though Simpson seems to be following the same Hollywood rubric used by Aniston in her split from Brad Pitt. Simpson has hired the same lawyers that oversaw the Aniston/Pitt divorce, the same ones that divorced Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley.

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The injury-plagued Houston Rockets have gone cold, falling below the .500 mark and losing their last eight games without leading scorer Tracy McGrady, who is out with a back injury. Seven-foot-six center Yao Ming is also out with and infected big toe (in Yao’s case, enormous toe). And Dikembe Mutombo, who started on Sunday in Yao’s place, left the game with a dislocated finger in the final minutes. Mutombo was the team’s only remaining center, leaving the Rockets, well, out in the cold.

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Ashlee Simpson was out cold for a few minutes last week on a Tokyo elevator, as collapsed after abruptly ending a performance there. The world stopped for a moment, politely pretending to care, then went on about its shopping. (Ouch! That was cold.)

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With a cultural cold front sweeping the nation, we are fortunate to live in a city that is sheltered from the cold. If there is one thing that we can truly count on, it is this: Las Cruces will always be warmer than most places during the holidays.

-From Pulse
December 22, 2005

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The Banning Of Bling

And so it was written, and so it shall come to pass. From this day forward, there will be no flossin’ of one’s bling courtside.

In mid-October, the NBA instituted a dress code for its players, igniting a conflagration of controversy among critics, analysts and the players themselves. The league’s ban on t-shirts, flashy jewelry and throwback jerseys immediately drew criticism that it was trying to target its young, black players of the hip-hop generation. Critics claimed that league commissioner David Stern was trying to distance himself and the NBA from last year’s Ron Artest brawl, and is catering to the season ticket holders of Corporate America.

Monday evening, I had a chance to talk to someone with a little NBA insight for his thoughts on the new dress code. I sat down with Coach Reggie Theus, who played 13 seasons in the league, to discuss what this meant for the NBA and its players.

“The players have to understand that this is their job, and Stern is their boss,” he said. “It’s just like any other job. You and I can’t go into work dressed any way we like.” It’s a valid point, but players like Allen Iverson and Marcus Camby disagree. Iverson, whose trademark ‘do rag is now banned, said “just because you put a guy in a tuxedo doesn’t mean he’s a good guy.” He said that he will fight to wear the clothes in which he is most comfortable. Camby, who is making almost $8 million a year, said that players are not likely to comply unless they are given an extra clothing allowance.

“That’s just the typical reaction of players like [Camby,]” Theus said. “But even if they’re making $8 million, they still have a boss who is making more than them. Does Marcus Camby sign his own checks? Until he does, he’ll have to do what they ask him to.”

“When I was playing, it was the athletes that set the trends. We understood that and took pride in our appearance. We always wanted to look professional,” said Coach Theus. “Now, the rappers are the trendsetters, and players are dressing like them.”

This is the first time that the NBA has imposed a dress code on its players. So why now? “Well, until now you haven’t had players walking around in throwbacks and Tims with a $100,000 license plate hanging from their neck. They’re trying to dress like rappers, but even Diddy and Jay-Z wear suits to work. There’s a time and place for street clothes, but it’s about being professional.”

Theus has always put his money where his mouth is. Eddie Johnson, his teammate in Kansas City and Sacramento, recently said, “Looking good in suits was so popular that it became just as competitive as the games. We would chastise [Reggie] about the leather outfits he wore, but after a short while the whole team was shopping at North Beach Leather and dressing like him.”

If the league is trying to distance itself from hip-hop, it’s going to take more than a dress code to do it. After all, let’s not forget that Jay-Z, Usher and Nelly are all part of the elite owner-class.

-From Pulse
December 1, 2005

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Cops vs. Robbers

  Crime is America’s new favorite pastime.  We are constantly bombarded by CrimeTV.  From 24-hour news channels to A&E and CourtTV, we are provided with a steady stream of crime coverage, and it has become a billion-dollar industry.  It has become what sports was in the Eighties, and CourtTV is the new ESPN.

  As a generation, we have grown up in this If-It-Bleeds-It-Leads society our whole lives.  School shootings and high-speed chases are covered as news, but are thinly-veiled entertainment in a ratings-driven news market.  And let’s not hasten to blame the media for this.  After all, we’re the ones with the remote.

  It’s not just news.  Network and cable television stations have caught on, too.   The networks have “CSI”, the “Law & Orders,” “24,” “America’s Most Wanted,” and “Cops.”  USA and TNT are all over “Law & Order” in syndication.  Then there’s “The Investigators,” “Forensic Files,” “The First 48,” “American Justice,” “American Confidential,” “Cold Case Files.” The list goes on and on.

  I want to make it clear that I’m not casting stones.  That would be foolish.  I’m as guilty as the next guy.  I am a certified “Law & Order” junky.  If it’s on, I’m watching.  It is, in my opinion, the most compelling show on television.  And if it’s not on, I’m watching A&E, CourtTV, or MSNBC for the real thing. 

  I used to enjoy sports the same way.  But over the last few years, I—like many sports fans—have become disenchanted.  Sports have lost their luster.  And this crime coverage fills that void beautifully.

  You’ve got good guys and bad guys.  You’ve got the thrill of the chase.  You’ve got upsets, when the bad guys beat the cops.  And you’ve got come-from-behind victories, when the cops solve cold cases.  And when you get bored with the good guys always winning, you can switch teams and root for the bad guys.  Now, if you’re like me, you’re going to miss the cheerleaders.  Crime doesn’t usually have cheerleaders, but that’s why you have ESPN2.

  Occasionally the worlds of sports and crime even collide.  To wit: O.J. Simpson, Jayson Williams, Ron Artest and Mike Tyson.  So you don’t have to give up sports completely.

  Actually, you might see a lot of your favorite celebrities working the crime circuit.  People like Michael Jackson, Lil’ Kim, and that guy from Baretta.  If you’re a hip-hop fan, all of your favorite rappers make cameos from time to time.  You can always find the G-Unit guys, Irv Gotti, Suge Knight, C-Murder, Shyne, Ja Rule, Benzino and Eminem. 

  Give it a shot, but take it slow.  Crime-for-entertainment has come a long way since “Matlock” and “Judge Judy.”  Start out with a little “Law & Order,” then start filling in the rest of your day.  And get yourself a TiVo.  You’re probably gonna need it.

-From Pulse
  March 24, 2005

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Sports Fan Seeks Hero

  I’ll be honest.  I don’t always write this column in search of feedback.  Very often I’m perfectly content with the little reality I have carved out for myself in this mad, mad world.  But this one’s different.  Every week, my e-mail address is printed at the bottom of this page, and this week I urge you to use it.

  Last week I was watching Dennis Miller interview the legendary sportswriter Frank Deford.  And as they discussed the state of sports, something horrible occurred to me.  If things keep going the way they have, we may be the last generation of Americans to have been raised with sports heroes.

   These days it’s more about the payoff than the playoffs.  It’s not just basketball or football or baseball or boxing.  Like our annual bosque fires, it has spread to all sports.  From the Major League to the Little League.  And I resent that. 

  Historically, athletes have been admired.  They have been our role models.  We marvel at their talent, but talent alone doesn’t make a hero.  It takes courage, perseverance, loyalty and dedication.  And above all, it takes character.

  Jackie Robinson and Hank Aaron had it.  Ali and Foreman had it.  Magic Johnson and Larry Bird had it.  We expect our heroes to have game, but we demand they have heart.

  As recently as five or ten years ago, we had heroes.  Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Sosa and McGuire, Tyson and De La Hoya, Earnhardt, Michael Johnson, Lance Armstrong, Emmitt Smith and Joe Montana, Arthur Ashe.  The list goes on and on.  Nolan Ryan, Cal Ripken.  There were role models around every corner. 

  And slowly they have faded away.  Some have retired.  Some should retire.  Some have lost our respect, and some have just lost their minds.

  Where is the new crop?  This generation of ball players seems to spend more time in court than on it.  They apparently paid more attention to “Jerry McGuire” than they did to “Rudy” or “Field of Dreams.”  If I wanted to see a bunch of stock brokers and untalented musicians getting together on a Friday night, I’d hang out at a political rally.  Or my neighbor’s garage.

  I don’t think I’m alone.  I think a lot of sports fans have become disenchanted by the attitudes and agents, the talk of salary caps and the lock-outs, the strikes, the fights. 

  Well, okay, the fights are fun to watch.  But the guys throwing hooks during the game and jumping into the stands aren’t our heroes.  Talented or not, Ron Artest will go down in history with Mike Tyson, Ty Cobb, and Latrell Sprewell.  They are out-of-control hotheads who will be remembered for their tempers, not their talent.

  I look around, and I don’t see in Lebron James and other modern sports figures the passion, the courage, or the character of a true hero.  They’re good at what they do, but they aren’t everything we’re looking for.

  Looking for a hero these days is like looking for a hockey game.  Or the Holy Grail.  Or the fountain of youth. 

 -From Pulse
   December 16, 2004

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