Today, while most of the rest of the sports world was anticipating the NCAA Tournament's Final Four, I was doing something I did a year ago in what was a true deja vu moment.
Last year, Sharapova lost to Victoria Azarenka, an up–and–comer who had been attracting some attention for awhile (and continued to do so through the end of the year). This time she lost to Agnieszka Radwanska of Poland. Radwanska has been a professional for several years, but she has kept such a low profile that most people who consider themselves tennis fans probably never heard of her until just recently.
This title was the biggest of Radwanska's brief career, and I don't wish to take anything away from her, but I can't help wondering if Sharapova has peaked.I asked a friend of mine who used to write about tennis for the Arkansas Gazette when I was there if he thought Sharapova has peaked. He replied that he hadn't seen the match, but he thinks her shoulder injury may still be bothering her.
That's a plausible argument, based on what I saw today. But it doesn't explain everything.
The 1979 title game, in which Larry Bird of Indiana State and Magic Johnson of Michigan State gave NBA fans a preview of coming attractions.
The 1983 title game, in which Jim Valvano's North Carolina State team upset the heavily favored Houston Cougars of Phi Slamma Jamma fame.
The 1985 title game, in which lightly regarded Villanova shocked Georgetown.
Clearly, many of the memorable games have been the ones in which championships were on the line, although there have been some truly great games played when a title was not at stake ...
... Such as the night in January 1968 when second–ranked Houston defeated top–ranked and defending national champion UCLA in the first college game ever televised nationally in prime time. Prior to that game, UCLA had won 47 consecutive games.
It was called the Game of the Century, and it is widely remembered as the precursor to the March Madness that millions celebrate every year.
And every college basketball fan will tell you that he has certain memories that are special to him — but not necessarily to others.
There were so many incredible finishes on that day, wrote Tim Layden of Sports Illustrated recently, that March 14, 1981, was the day that transformed the NCAA Tournament to March Madness.
Or, at least, it was the day when that transformation began.
That may be so.
But, if there was a game that really cemented the tournament's popular image of March Madness, I think it had to be the East Regional final that was played between Duke and Kentucky on this day 20 years ago.
Kentucky, of course, is one of college basketball's elite programs, along with UCLA, North Carolina, Indiana, Kansas, Michigan State, Louisville ...
... and Duke, which may or may not have qualified as an elite program in 1992. Mike Krzyzewski had led the Blue Devils to the national title the year before, but that was Duke's first.
Duke was, however, making its fifth straight appearance in the Elite Eight when it faced Kentucky 20 years ago today so Coach K clearly had established a pattern of success — but he had not yet won the four national titles that currently have him tied with the legendary Adolph Rupp for second place in that category.
Coach K won't get to add to that tally this year, but on this day 20 years ago, he was about to return to the Final Four for the fifth straight year.
Both Duke and Kentucky cruised to their rendezvous in Philadelphia. Only once — in Kentucky's second–round clash with Iowa State — was victory achieved by fewer than 10 points.
In other words, nothing that had happened in the earlier rounds could have prepared the partisans from either side for what they were about to witness.
Duke and Kentucky had to play an overtime period to decide their duel — and, even then, it came down to a last–second shot by Christian Laettner.
There were five lead changes in the final 30 seconds. The teams combined to make nearly two–thirds of their shots in the second half and the overtime period. And Laettner's shot still makes every important college basketball highlight reel, just as Kirk Gibson's World Series homer and Dwight Clark's end zone catch always make the highlight reels in their sports.
Duke went on to successfully defend its national title against Michigan after a nail–biter of a semifinal against Indiana.
Kentucky would scale the championship heights again, but, as Alex Wolff writes in Sports Illustrated, the wound is still raw.
"Even today, 20 years after what's widely considered the greatest college game ever played, Kentucky loyalists regard the Blue Devils' 104–103 overtime victory ... as having touched off a collective psychotic break."
Alex Wolff
I almost missed it.
It was a Saturday. The game, as I recall, was scheduled to begin in mid–afternoon, and it so happened that a family friend was getting married that day, too.
The wedding was to take place here in Dallas. I lived in Denton, which is roughly 40 miles north of here. Through the ceremony and the reception, I kept an eye on the clock — and I finally managed to leave just before tipoff.
I listened to the first half on the radio and was home in time to see most of the second half.
Most, if not all, of the Kentucky fans who watched probably wish they hadn't seen it. But, if you are a fan of a team, you are going to feel compelled to watch its games, especially the ones in the postseason.
Fans of most teams know there is always the possibility that the game they watch will end in defeat, but fans of certain teams have been conditioned by past success to expect to win, even if the oddsmakers disagree.
For such fans, any defeat — but especially one like the one that was handed to Kentucky 20 years ago today — is awfully difficult to choke down.
And, in spite of subsequent successes, Wildcat fans still struggle with it, wincing at the bitter aftertaste.
Wolff observes that the author of a new book about the game has been told by Kentucky fans that they won't buy the book because Laettner's image is on the cover.
And even the passage of two decades has not been enough time to permit them to see that picture on their coffee tables without remembering in vivid detail the pain his fallaway jumper brought them.
Unless you follow boxing, you may not know who Bert Sugar was.
Bert Sugar was a sports journalist. I prefer that term to sports writer because sports writer sounds like the writer in question could have written about anything but settled for sports — or was forced to do so by circumstances.
Sugar may have chosen to write about sports, but he didn't settle, and he wasn't forced into it. I always felt he was born to write about sports, particularly boxing. It was his passion, the way it is some sports journalists' passion to write about horse racing.
I'm tempted to compare him to Red Smith, but Smith was a true sports journalist, writing about every sport with equal enthusiasm — whereas Sugar really was more of a specialist.
Sugar wrote more than 80 books, but most of them dealt with boxing. He was a boxing historian. Some of his books were about baseball — one was even about early 20th century escape artist Harry Houdini — but most were about boxing — the great fights, the great fighters — filled with nuggets that most casual observers would never know otherwise.
I read some of his books. I saw him on TV more frequently, commenting on the sport, offering insights no one else could. He was always easy to spot with his tradmark fedora hat. He was kind of an amiable, informal version of Tom Landry, I suppose.
He was afflicted with lung cancer — no doubt an outcome of his long cigar habit — and that, apparently, was what finally took his life.
He will be missed, especially whenever a significant fight comes along.
"Sure there have been injuries and deaths in boxing — but none of them serious."
Alan Minter Former middleweight champion
I don't know when Minter made that comment — perhaps it was before a fellow named Angelo Jacopucci died from injuries suffered in a 1978 fight with Minter. Perhaps not.
Whenever it was, though, I doubt that it was prior to this day in 1962. Minter was only 10 years old.
Neither do I know if Minter's family owned a TV in 1962. TV ownership was still something of a novelty in those days. But if the Minters did have a TV in their home, it may have been set to ABC on this night 50 years ago — when Benny Paret and Emile Griffith met in a fight for the welterweight crown.
Paret and Griffith, who were both in their mid–20s, had fought twice before. Griffith won the first by a knockout, and Paret won the second in a split decision. The bout in New York's Madison Square Garden, scheduled for 15 rounds, was to be their rubber match.
In the 12th round, TV viewers had just heard the announcer say it had been a "slow round" when Griffith unleashed a furious flurry of blows to his opponent while he was pinned against the ropes. Referee Ruby Goldstein stepped in to stop the fight — somewhat belatedly, some thought — and Paret lapsed into a coma.
He died on April 3.
Many reasons have been suggested as contributing to Paret's death; all may have played roles.
New York's boxing authorities, for example, were criticized for clearing Paret to fight again four months after he was knocked out by Gene Fullmer.
Goldstein, it was said, should have stopped the fight earlier. Goldstein, who died in 1984, never refereed a professional bout again.
"Prodded by fear or maybe by conscience, Manny Alfaro, Paret's manager, gave a disgraceful performance trying to pin the blame on Ruby Goldstein, the referee. Nobody involved has any right to blame anybody else for a tragic accident, least of all a manager who gets his boy cruelly beaten by Gene Fullmer, then sends him back against a man who has already knocked him out."
Red Smith
Paret himself was blamed. At the weigh–in, Paret reportedly used a Spanish slang word for faggot in reference to Griffith — with the implication being that Griffith was homosexual. At the time, the suggestion that any athlete was homosexual would wreck his career, and it was especially egregious in the Spanish culture from which they both came.
Paret's death is often said to have been boxing's first televised fatality. And, although the cause of death was clearly the brain injury he suffered, there are many theories that attempt to explain why it happened at all. Some are plausible, some are not.
Deaths do occur in the ring, but they have not been as frequent as you might expect.
It is worth noting, though, that, after Paret's death, and the death of featherweight Davey Moore in 1963, commercial television did not carry fights regularly again until the 1970s.
It's spring break at the community college where I teach so I find myself with time on my hands this week.
Ordinarily, I would have spent yesterday doing chores like laundry or whatnot, but I didn't feel a sense of urgency about that sort of thing so I did something yesterday afternoon that I almost never do.
I watched TV, a lot of it, but it was an aimless kind of TV watching. There was nothing in particular that I wanted to watch so I did some channel surfing — and happened upon a movie that was in the theaters a little more than a year ago. It was a movie I wanted to see at the time, but I never saw it at the theater.
It was the Walt Disney film "Secretariat," a dramatization of the story of the legendary Triple Crown winner of 1973. It had only been on for about 10 minutes so I was able to catch most of it — and that's exactly what I did.
I was a boy at the time that Secretariat won the Triple Crown, and there are many things about that time that I don't remember, but I definitely remember watching Secretariat's astonishing triumph.
I never knew, though, until I watched that movie just how remarkable that story really was. I've done some research since watching the movie (well, I told you I have time on my hands this week!), and it really was an inspiring tale, a genuine feel–good story.
Ordinarily, I tend to avoid the feel–good stories, I suppose. Most of them are a little too shameless in their pursuit of unbridled emotion — and far too shy on facts.
But the story of Secretariat was a true feel–good story. It felt good to watch him win those races and do something no horse had done for a quarter of a century.
It especially felt good to watch the re–creation of his amazing run at the Belmont in June of 1973.
That was a truly memorable time in my life. I was sick with mononucleosis (the so–called "kissing disease," although I don't recall kissing anyone at the time), and I remember stretching out on the couch to watch the race.
I didn't know much about Mrs. Tweedy and the loss of her parents — except what they said about her on TV. But I gathered that she, like her father, had been down and, also like her father, had bounced back.
She was an underdog. But she was a determined underdog.
Secretariat's success was her reward for the hard times she had been through — and what greater reward could there have been than to see that magnificent animal running away from the Belmont pretenders as if they were standing still?
After about the midway point of the race, Secretariat's eventual triumph was no longer in doubt — but his solitary run down the Belmont stretch remains one of the most thrilling and inspiring sights I have ever seen.
The re–creation was great. The moment itself was transcendent.
Sometimes the underdog wins. And there is no denying that it really does feel good when that happens.
Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts announced this week that they were parting ways ...
... which launched a mad scramble among all but a handful of the NFL teams for his services.
Some teams are more serious contenders than others, but there is no doubt that most of the teams in the NFL could use a quarterback. He wouldn't have to be a surefire Hall of Famer ... but, hey, as long as Peyton Manning isn't doing anything, anyway ...
ESPN reports that sources are saying Manning will make up his mind in the next few days. A dozen teams have made overtures to Manning's representatives — of those, ESPN says Arizona, Seattle, Washington, Miami, Kansas City, Denver and the New York Jets have been in direct contact with them.
But Vinnie Iyer of The Sporting News writes that Manning isn't interested in playing for the Redskins.
And, even though he admits Manning in a Broncos uniform is "difficult to envision," I get the feeling that Mark Kiszla of the Denver Post would like to see it happen.
But he says there are at least three reasons why it isn't likely:
"Broncos coach John Fox plus Manning equals a bad mix."
"Pat Bowlen would rather let some other franchise owner bet millions on Manning's health."
"Deep down, [John] Elway realizes Denver is closer to being a 6–10 team than a 10–6 team."
Kiszla doesn't argue that Manning is not one of the greatest quarterbacks ever to play in the NFL. He just points out there are more pressing needs for a franchise that apparently wants to rebuild the foundation that took it to five Super Bowls when Elway was the field general.
At this point, I suppose, it really is anyone's guess where Manning will wind up.
Common sense says some teams are more likely than others — Green Bay and New Orleans, for instance, are surely out of the running — but there are still some intriguing possibilities out there.
For example, it would be very interesting if Manning signed with the Jets. Then he would be in competition with his multiple Super Bowl–winning brother Eli for the affections of the Big Apple's football fans.
I have a good friend who would undoubtedly like to see Manning in a Kansas City uniform. Don't be too quick to dismiss the notion, either. The Chiefs do have something of a history of signing castoff quarterbacks — remember when Joe Montana took them to the AFC championship after being let go by San Francisco?
The Cardinals have been even more successful. They signed Kurt Warner after he left the Rams — and Warner took the Cardinals to the Super Bowl.
The only thing I'm sure of, at this point, is that someone will sign Manning. I just don't know who.
It was never my sport when I was growing up. I had more interest in baseball and football.
And, in the hierarchy of basketball, pro basketball is the low man on the totem pole for me. I like college and high school basketball much better.
Even in my teen years, I preferred college basketball — my alma mater, the University of Arkansas, was always in the national tournament so I could usually count on being able to watch them play during spring break.
My high school team was pretty good — went undefeated and won the state title when I was a sophomore.
But, for awhile, when I was about 12 or 13, I was a bit of an NBA fan.
One of the stars at that time was Wilt Chamberlain. Actually, he was nearing the end of his career by that time; a young Lew Alcindor (soon to be known as Kareem Abdul–Jabbar) was emerging as his successor as the league's superstar.
But many years earlier, Chamberlain had chiseled his name into the NBA record books with an achievement that I think is not likely to be matched.
I'm talking about the day 50 years ago today when Chamberlain scored 100 points in a single game.
Basketball fans are accustomed to games in which one, if not both, of the teams scores 100 points or more. But the scoring usually is spread out. Even Michael Jordan — who made many of the most amazing shots anyone will ever see — didn't score 100 points in a single game.
And Jordan had the advantage of being able to shoot for three points. The three–point shot was still several years in the future when Chamberlain retired.
So has Kobe Bryant, who scored 81 points in a game in 2006, and, as Ryan Rothschild observes in Sports Illustrated, Bryant scored seven three–pointers — and he still came up 19 points short of Chamberlain.
Rothschild writes that it is "a record that seems all but unbreakable." I'm inclined to agree.
Because of his height (7'1"), Chamberlain was known as "Wilt the Stilt" and "Goliath" by many, but his favorite nickname was "The Big Dipper," and that is the name that always comes to mind for me when I think of Chamberlain because, in my mind's eye, I can see him dunking the ball repeatedly as he towered over nearly everyone he faced.
Alcindor was really the first player he encountered in his NBA career who could look him in the eye, you might say — and that was one of the reasons why Chamberlain scored so many points in that game and others. Seven–footers are commonplace in the NBA today, but they were rare in 1962.
Chamberlain also scored so many points because his team, the then–Philadelphia Warriors, permitted him to keep going to the basket long after the issue had been decided, in large part to see if he could score 100 points.
It also seems likely to me that a 21st century coach, faced with the same situation, probably would not allow his star player(s) to continue playing once the game was out of reach for the opposition — even if he wanted to see if his star could surpass Chamberlain.
But I think that record will remain on the books for a long, long time.
A "tomato can" is a fighter who is believed to be past his prime and an "easy" or "guaranteed" win for an up-and-coming fighter who wants to pad his record.
Sometimes, though, the "tomato can" doesn't cooperate. For example, in 1990, undefeated heavyweight champion Mike Tyson lost the title to a 42-to-1 underdog named Buster Douglas.
Another heavyweight champion, Muhammad Ali, almost lost his title to lightly regarded Chuck Wepner in 1975. Wepner nearly went the distance against Ali and inspired the original "Rocky" movie.
I got my bachelor's degree in journalism from the University of Arkansas, and I got my master's degree in journalism from the University of North Texas. Most of my adult life has been dedicated to writing and editing in one form or another. Most recently I have taught writing (news and developmental) as an adjunct journalism professor at Richland College, where I advise the student newspaper staff. Go, Thunderducks!
Last year, Sharapova lost to Victoria Azarenka, an up–and–comer who had been attracting some attention for awhile (and continued to do so through the end of the year). This time she lost to Agnieszka Radwanska of Poland. Radwanska has been a professional for several years, but she has kept such a low profile that most people who consider themselves tennis fans probably never heard of her until just recently.
