There are some monster stories this springtime.
Jordan Spieth’s meltdown at the 12th.
Steph Curry’s emergence as the best baller in hoops. Along with his Dubs emanation as one of the best pro outfits ever.
Trevor Story’s 25 or so homers for the Rockies in his first handful of games in the Bigs.
There are a couple of other trends, but they’re probably of interest only to me, a child of Motown. Those would be the Pistons making the NBA playoffs. And the Red Wings backing into the post season like Nicklas Lidstrom, covering a short-handed breakaway counterattack at the Joe.
And then there’s the story that really trumps them all, a fascinating bit of sporting history unfolding as never before. But I’ll save that one for last. Otherwise, you might click away for lack of interest.
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It has been argued by many that hitting a baseball off of major league pitching is the most difficult single task in sports.
But anybody who has ever attempted golf knows it might be equally as hard to to swing at a ball with a golf club — off the tee, in a trap, out of the woods, or on the green — and have it end up where the swinger would for it to. Continue reading MMQB: Spieth, Story, Steph & The Real Big Story
No Louisville Cardinal fan rooted harder for Wayne Blackshear to succeed, and become a major Double Arches AA-quality collegian, than I did.
Some have even used the word apologist.
Truth is he never met fans, coaches, or his expectations. It happens.
I happened upon a couple of his summer league games during the last week or so.
In the first, contested in Utah, he played about half the minutes, but contributed little. In the second, after the Spurs had moved on to the Vegas competition, it was all pine time. He never took off his warmup.
So, it is somewhat sad, how he’s expressed his views of his years on the Belknap Campus.
I agree with him. For most of his career, he did sublimate his game to the offensive sets run by The Rick. But . . . a lot of that had to do with the fact that he never displayed the eye of the tiger, the will to take charge, that it was believed he had in him. He never really showed he deserved to have sets run for him. Continue reading Monday’s Sports Missive: Serena, Novak, Jordan, Roger & Wayne
One of the annual traditions of the Masters every April in Augusta is that the defending champ gets to choose the menu for the dinner that precedes the next year’s tourney.
If the U.S.Open were to have such a ritual, it would be only fitting that Jordan Spieth’s repast before next year’s event would feature broccoli.
Since that’s the clever but derogatory descriptor most mentioned by this year’s Open participants, when describing the nature of the bumpy, multi-hued “greens” of Chambers Bay.
It was a lovely but most quirky venue indeed.
In the end though, carping legit or otherwise notwithstanding, the course was not the story.
Neither was Dustin Johnson’s choke job on the 72d. Though he had a makeable eagle putt for the W, and an even easier “gimme” for birdie and a spot in a playoff, neither of which he drained. Continue reading Masters, Open in Hand, Spieth Spies Slam