RealClearSports: There's No Magic for Orlando

By Art Spander

So life returns to normal. The Lakers win another championship, the Magic kick themselves – or maybe an effigy of Mickey Mouse – and we settle down to a summer of contemplating exactly how good Kobe Bryant really is.

Oh, the Lakers haven’t yet won the NBA title? Indeed they have; only the league has yet to make the acknowledgement.

You heard all the comparisons, Hollywood vs. Disney World, not that there’s much difference between the two if you don’t count humidity and the traffic on Sunset Boulevard. In Hollywood, however, they always know how the script ends.

And watching Hollywood’s team, the Lakers, so do we.

Not a bad game Thursday night, the fourth of these very enticing finals. The home team (bad guys, if you’re some screenwriter who has Laker tickets) makes a little noise but, because it can’t make free three throws come apart when it should be coming together.

Long ago we learned pro basketball is a game of ebb and flow, and just because one team – the Magic, in this case – looks brilliant and the other can’t read a defense or seemingly a shot clock, it doesn’t mean that’s not going to change.

Trailing by 12 points at halftime, shooting 33 percent from the floor, the Lakers stepped out of their funk, stepped up the defense, made their usual key shots and beat the Magic, 99-91, in overtime.

Or did the Magic beat themselves?

“Free throws,’’ said Orlando coach Stan Van Gundy, the guy who hasn’t gone hungry – literally that is; figuratively, since he and the Magic have never been champions, they are candidates for food stamps.

“What did we shoot, 59 percent?’’ He knew. What we all knew was that when you get 37 foul shots and miss 15, you don’t deserve to win. When you have a five-point lead with fewer than 30 seconds remaining and get tied in regulation, you don’t deserve to win.

This wasn’t exactly a choke job by the Magic. Rather, it was comeback by the Lakers. Rather than a tightening of throats by Orlando, it was a tightening of the defense by Los Angeles.

They know a good story in Hollywood, and Derek Fisher definitely is one. He was with the Lakers when they won their three titles with Shaq and Kobe. Then, because of things like age and salary caps, he was let go, signing first with the Golden State Warriors, where he fit like an elephant would in a Mini Minor, and after that with the Utah Jazz.

His infant daughter was stricken with retinoblastoma, a cancerous tumor in her left eye, but Fisher kept coming back from the hospital to help the Jazz come back in the first two rounds of the ’07 playoffs. Then, released once again, he was re-signed by the Lakers where, as we noted, he released that rainbow 3-point jump shot.

The first, with 4.6 seconds left in regulation, tied the game, 87-87, Thursday night. The second, with 31.3 seconds in overtime, broke another tie. Explaining why he was open on both attempts, Fisher, who offered a very noticeable smile after the one in OT, told ABC-TV, “No. 24 gets a lot of attention.’’

That, of course, is the man of the hour, Kobe Bryant. And even though Kobe was only 11 of 31 on field goal attempts, he did score 32 points and have eight assists and seven rebounds. Without him, of course, the Lakers aren’t even close.

At intermission, however, some may have concluded they were close to a collapse. Yet even though L.A. was out of synch – “We got hamstrung; we played soft,’’ said Lakers coach Phil Jackson – you sensed Orlando didn’t believe in itself.

The Magic kept waiting for the Lakers to make their run, and with Trevor Ariza scoring 13 points in the third quarter after scoring no points in the first half, they made it.

The Lakers are the better team, the championship team, and the only question was when they would play like champions. The answer was not long in coming.

Kobe has been badgered about during this series by critics who no matter how much he does expect him to do more. There was a story that having been on the Olympic team last summer and then going straight into the NBA season, Kobe is worn out, and the weariness is showing. What’s showing is Bryant’s character. And courage.

We’ve watched great shooters over the years, Sam Jones, Jerry West, Oscar Robertson, Michael Jordan naturally and now LeBron James. It’s hard to say where Kobe ranks, but it’s not worse than second.

Weary, worn out, smacked around by Mickael Pietrus, hammered by Dwight Howard, Kobe still connects most of the time when he gets free and some of the time when guys are hanging on his arms.

He wanted a championship. He’s got a championship. He and the Lakers. Like Magic.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009. 

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© RealClearSports 2009 

Crossing the bridge: A’s against the Giants

OAKLAND -- The great Roger Kahn called it “transpontine madness,’’ the baseball played across the East River in New York, across the bridge, alluding specifically to the Dodgers in Brooklyn, that borough of individuality.

The passion isn’t quite the same in the Bay Area, where the bridge is longer but the rivalry shorter and surely less intense. The years don’t extend back to the early part of the 20th century. The feeling doesn’t preclude fans wearing hats that carry the logos and colors of both teams.

But there is something special when the Athletics face the Giants, which they do this weekend in three games at San Francisco’s AT&T Park. Oakland figuratively is the unwanted child, living in, well, not poverty, but hardly in the elegance and with the history of the Giants.

The A’s, however, as the upper management used to tout in the commercials and on the billboards, have won four World Series since they took up residence in Northern California in 1968. Or four more than San Francisco since the Giants came to the region 10 years earlier.

Interleague play it is, and if the purists want to find fault, what would you rather have, Giants against the Nationals, A’s against the Royals?

The fans love this stuff. So do the players, especially the A’s, who Thursday, down 3-0, rallied to beat the Minnesota Twins, 4-3 at the Coliseum.

Especially the A’s because, as fate would dictate, Rajai Davis, claimed off waivers a year ago April from those Giants, singled home pinch runner Chris Denofria in the bottom of the ninth of a game then tied 3-3.

“We’re happy to come out on top,’’ said A’s manager Bob Geren. A two-game losing streak had ended. A seven-game home stand had ended with five wins.

“Now,’’ said Geren, “let’s go across the bay.’’

Now let’s see the Giants’ Tim Lincecum, 5-1, 2008 National League Cy Young winner, against the A’s Vin Mazzaro, 2-0, earned run average 0.00.

“They’re playing well,’’ Geren said of the Giants, who did lose at Arizona, 2-1, on Thursday but finished their road trip 6-4. “We’re going to be seeing three outstanding pitchers, and we got some good-looking ones of our own.”

Lincecum, 300-game winner Randy Johnson and 8-1 Matt Cain are scheduled for the Giants, with, in order, Mazzaro, Josh Outman (4-0) and Brett Anderson (3-6) for the A’s.

“Lincecum throws hard and has a good breaking ball,’’ Geren said, emphasizing what everyone knows. “Mazzaro is off to a great start, and except maybe for spring training they haven’t seen him at all, It’s a good park to pitch in, so it should be a nice pitchers’ duel.’’

Then, showing a perverse nature too often missing, Geren added, “Watch, it will be 11-10.’’

Whatever it is, it will be enjoyable. Not a lot of hatred when the teams meet, not like the Cubs and White Sox or the Yankees and Mets. We’re too mellow. And somewhat lacking in intolerance. But not in interest.

“It’s going to be fun,’’ said Mazzaro, brought up a couple of weeks back from Sacramento. “There’s going to be a good crowd. I’m excited. I’m going against a Cy Young winner. I’m pumped.’’

He and the other A’s pitchers also will be going against the Giants from the batter’s box. No designated hitter in the National League park. “My swing is not too good,’’ said Mazzaro, “but I think I can get the bunts down. I’m happy to swing the bat against (Lincecum). I can’t wait until Friday.’’

AT&T will be filled or virtually filled. For the A’s, that will be a change. On Thursday, the A’s, who had won seven of their previous nine games, drew a disgraceful 13,383 fans to the Coliseum.

“The atmosphere will be different over there,’’ said Trevor Cahill. He was the A’s starter Thursday and was effective for the most part, other than the fourth when Joe Crede went after a sinker Geren said usually results in a ground out but this time resulted in a three-run homer.

“(Wednesday) night, they kind of snatched one from us,’’ said Geren. “Today we won one they probably should have won. To bounce back and win this one is a pretty good feeling.’’

Cahill was feeling more than pretty good even if had no decision, Brad Ziegler earning the victory.

“We wanted to get back on track,’’ he said. “It’s going to be a huge series against the Giants. When we cross over the bridge, it’s going to be so good to go over there with some confidence.’’

Not much madness around here, but indeed a great deal of anticipation.

SF Examiner: Time for government to forfeit case against Bonds

SAN FRANCISCO — To the question of whether anyone remains interested in Barry Bonds in his second year out of a Giants uniform, there is a clear and present answer: The U.S. attorney’s office does.

But not to join their team.

They are hardly interested in putting Barry behind, say, the No. 3 hitter. What they want is to put him behind bars.

Lots of luck.

A few days past, federal prosecutors filed a brief requesting a reversal of U.S. District Judge Susan Illston’s well-known decision to bar from Barry’s perjury case evidence she determined to be hearsay.

Yes, Judge Illston’s ruling came back in February, and this is June, but the wheels of justice grind slowly, sort of the way Bonds moved out in left field his last year with the Giants, the 2007 season.

Peter Keane, Dean Emeritus of the Golden Gate University School of Law, told the New York Daily News that the recent government filing “reeks of desperation,” and is merely “postponing the inevitable.”

So feds, give it up already.

We admire your perseverance and attention to detail. If George Washington told the truth, ballplayers probably ought to do the same.

And anybody who has dealt with him, in a courtroom or in a clubhouse, understands Barry can be uncooperative, abrasive and a pain, thus there is an eagerness to get after the man.

But enough. Barry didn’t sell people sub-prime mortgages. Barry didn’t run off with anyone’s 401 (k). Barry didn’t tell the world Iraq had weapons of mass destruction.

The government essentially is wasting millions of our dollars trying to make a mark against a guy who has made his mark, 762 career home runs. What if he were just a singles hitter with a .238 lifetime average?

“These documents tend to show that Bonds was lying when he testified in the grand jury that he did not knowingly take steroids,” U.S. attorney Barbara J. Valliere wrote in a 56-page argument dealing with Bonds.

Los Angeles attorney Mark Geragos, who represents Bonds’ trainer Greg Anderson — aka The Guy Who Won’t Talk — called the government’s appeal “the last vestige of scoundrels.”

The dirty rotten kind or just the ordinary garden variety?

Maybe Barry is guilty, maybe he isn’t. What does it matter any more?

The guy we could call the Slammer for all those long balls is not going to the slammer. He’s almost certainly not even going to trial.

Which is fine with me. Spend the money on something worthwhile, cancer research, feeding the underprivileged. I keep getting images of Javert, the police inspector in Les Miz, who stalks Jean Valjean through the years.

Does America care more that Bonds seemingly cheated in baseball than a lot of guys at banks and loan agencies cheated people out of their homes?

Can’t the feds and Barry, who now also has domestic problems, call this battle a tie without plans for a makeup game?

Bonds’ attorneys might tell the prosecutors how much they admire persistence. The prosecutors might tell Barry and his counsel that while there’s no clock in baseball there should be one in perjury cases.

Then the attorneys can write books and make tons of money. It’s as American as apple pie, motherhood and denial of steroid use.

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes at www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com.
E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

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Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company

RealClearSports: We Can Stop Worrying about Tiger and Roger

By Art Spander


The questions have been answered. The shots have been made, chips from the edge of the green, forehands from the back of the court. We can stop worrying about Tiger and Roger. 

All is right with the world. Summer is coming on. Tiger and Roger have come back, as if we ever should have doubted they would. Dial up another Sinatra song on the iPod or the radio. Hoist a glass of ice tea. Back the ’55 Chevy out of the garage.

We’ve returned to the good, old days, 2009 version.

So quick to lose faith, particularly in Roger Federer. We knew Tiger Woods eventually would be there. It takes time to recover from ACL surgery. The tee shots would return. The confidence would return.

We merely wondered when. Now we know.

Roger Federer was different, in our minds at least. Men’s tennis, so long his domain, suddenly was in the grasp of Rafael Nadal.

When Nadal beat Federer in that marvelous Wimbledon final last July, when Federer’s streak of Grand Slam tournaments without a victory had extended to three, we decided the torch had been passed.

A champion is more than the game he plays. A champion is a winner, able to reach into the past and when the moment arises, when proof is required, regain the brilliance he or she once displayed.

Federer did exactly that during a French Open that, with the first-week upset of Nadal, who previously never had lost in the tournament, presented an opportunity.

Champion that he is, Federer grabbed that chance and carried it to history, becoming one of six players ever to win all four Slams, the Australian, the French, Wimbledon and the U.S. Open.

In tennis and golf, familiarity does not breed contempt but rather comfort. If Roger Federer is hoisting a trophy with tears in his eyes, if Tiger Woods is balling a fist and shaking it in triumph, then everything again makes sense.

Woods’ victory seemingly didn’t mean quite as much as that of his colleague, with whom Tiger shares respect and Nike and Gillette endorsements. Or maybe it meant more.

No major title but a giant step forward, a verification that on a tough course, Muirfield Village, Tiger could drive straight and long and rally on the final day as he had done so often.

One magnificent round, one reassuring finish, and like that Woods became the favorite for the U.S. Open next week at Bethpage, where he won America’s golfing championship in 2002.

“I knew I could do this,’’ Tiger said Sunday after his victory in the Memorial, a victory that came maybe half a day after Federer’s in Paris.

“I was close to winning, but the game wasn’t quite there when I needed it on a Sunday,’’ Tiger explained. “I rectified that.’’

The way Roger Federer rectified his problem, filled in the blank.

So much in common those two. Each has a cap with his own initials on the front. Each has a claim on being the best ever in his sport.

Federer’s win was his 14th in a Grand Slam, equaling the record of Pete Sampras. Tiger has 14 majors, four behind Jack Nicklaus, who as fate and fable would have it conducts the Memorial event and was a spectator at the final green.

Tiger is 33, and has many more years remaining. Federer is 27 and has enough time left. But what they accomplish from now on cannot mean any more than what they have accomplished, particularly on Sunday.

For Federer it was overcoming an obstacle that two weeks earlier the experts never believed he never could overcome, not with Nadal, who had beaten him on clay repeatedly, in waiting. Then Rafa departed and the gates, and heavens, opened for Roger.

For Woods it was an irritation. He hadn’t been the Tiger who was so reliable before that knee operation last June. There had been a victory, in March, but there also had been a few last-day misdeeds. He was grumpy from his lack of progress. We were bewildered, even though medical experts said healing could not be rushed.

Tiger’s U.S. Open is a week away. Roger’s Wimbledon is in two weeks. Where will they be in another month? Receiving more accolades after receiving more trophies? Where will their sports be?

Nicklaus suggests Tiger will be a winner, which is no great shock. Federer’s achievement on clay suggests Roger will be a winner on the grass at Wimbledon, where he had five straight titles from 2003 through 2007.

We can only anticipate. These good, old days are very up to date indeed.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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© RealClearSports 2009 

A’s Beane: “We’re doing the best we can with what we have’’

OAKLAND -- This was the week that was for the Oakland Athletics, the week that presaged what very well might be. This was the week the A’s could step off the treadmill and not so much take a deep breath as a long look at the future.

All we’ve heard, because of rumors, because of speculation, is who the A’s will trade. There’s Matt Holliday, the well-paid slugger. Or Bobby Crosby, the struggling infielder. Or Orlando Cabrera, because every team needs a shortstop. Every team including the A’s.

But Billy Beane, Mr. Moneyball, the general manager, who literally was on a treadmill, because he chooses to work out in the facility next to the clubhouse while the game is on, tells us to stop speculating and guessing. Tells us to stop dealing in extremes.

“People say you’re going for it or you’re not going for it,’’ Beane said Sunday, not long after Oakland went for its sixth straight win and a three-game series sweep, beating the Baltimore Orioles, 3-0.

“Sometimes you just are trying to do the best you can with what you have. We spend what we have here. OK, we got this; we can trade for Matt Holliday. We can sign Jason Giambi, sign (Nomar) Garciaparra to help our young players. You cut the piece of the pie into as many bites as you can.’’

Six in a row for the first time in three seasons. Seven and a third shutout innings by rookie Vin Mazzaro, the real Jersey Boy, in his second start. His total 13 2/3 scoreless innings is the longest streak for a starter beginning his career with Oakland.

Six in a row and questions whether Beane, as we’ve read, plans to dismantle this group, once more dealing the reality of the present for the possibility of the future. Beane contends he does not.

“One of the most important things coming into the season was to develop our young pitching staff,’’ said Beane. “For a small or mid-market team to sustain success for any amount of time, they have to have pitching that comes from within.

“In the off-season we brought in some veteran guys, and one reason was to give these young pitchers as much of a cushion as we could. We were hoping we would be a better offensive team to give the young guys room for error. It didn’t start out that way, because of injuries and the fact we just weren’t hitting. But what’s happened now, quite frankly, is the young pitchers have taken the bull by the horns, and we sort of responded by hitting better.

“So it’s kind of the young guys leading the other guys.’’

The young guys are Mazzaro, 22, Darren Cahill, 21, Brett Anderson, 21, and Josh Outman, 24. Add 25-year-old Dallas Braden, and every A’s starter has at least one win in those last six games.

“It’s nice to see,’’ said Beane, “the last two weeks, the last 20 games or so, these kids have a sub-3.00 ERA. The starting pitching has been pretty amazing. And if you got that, you’ve got a chance every game.’’

Across the Bay, the Giants have that in Lincecum, Cain, Zito and Randy Johnson. Now the A’s have it. And should have it the coming years. It’s the early 2000s all over again, with Tim Hudson, Mark Mulder and Barry Zito. It’s visions of contending teams, if not immediately then not far away.

“When Hudson, Mulder and Zito came up,’’ said Beane, “they not only were good but they were good right away, and so we had them for a long time and didn’t have to spend much time developing them.

“Everyone wants to win every year. When we traded some of our guys, we acquired a lot of pitching, knowing that once again for us to maintain long-term success, we have to have that pitching.’’

They’ve got it. Those six games, when the bleeding as stopped, when the A’s staggered back from a 19-30 record on June 1, the Oakland starters have allowed only five earned runs in 40 1/3 innings, a 1.12 earned run average. It’s hard to lose if the other team doesn’t score.

The real question was whether the A’s were going to lose players. Whether Holliday, now up to a .282 batting average after sinking to .227, would be swapped. When Cabrera, signed during spring training, would be dealt.

“It’s natural speculation because of our market place,’’ said Beane. The A’s drew only 17,208 on Sunday. “And because of our history. But we don’t have payroll issues. We’ve managed our payroll. And at the end of the day, we want to have as good a year as we can.

“Where that puts us I don’t know, but the last week at least shows what can happen.’’

RealClearSports: The Raiders Mystery

By Art Spander

ALAMEDA, Calif. – He used to be the most fascinating maverick in sports, a man who cared about nothing except success and for so many years had that success.

“Just win, baby’’ was his mantra, and to hell with how he played the games. Of football. Or of life.

Al Davis owns the Oakland Raiders and in a way owned pro football. He never met a rule he didn’t believe couldn’t be broken.

The more that people, the league, the consultants, told him what couldn’t be done, throwing deep, moving a franchise, the more intent Al was on doing it.

The Raiders were the NFL’s original bad boys — in image, not record. If the Dallas Cowboys of the 1970s were America’s Team, the Raiders were Satan’s Team. Davis relished the idea.

“I love to go to a visiting stadium and hear the fans boo us,’’ Davis said, or words to that effect. “It is better to be feared than loved. It’s the Raiders’ mystique.’’

The mystique has ebbed into mystery. And agony.

Nobody fears the Raiders these days. Except their own fans.

As the franchise a couple of days ago was involved in what officially is called an “organized team activity,’’ or off-season workout, Davis was out of sight, upstairs in the headquarters building.

But he never was out of mind.

The Raiders have been losing it. They haven’t had a winning season since 2002, when, they actually went to the Super Bowl, getting crushed by a Tampa Bay team led by Jon Gruden, who the year before had been the Raiders’ coach.

The question asked too often these days is, has Al Davis lost it?

In a month, on the Fourth of July, Davis will be 80. A leg problem has required him to use a walker, making him seem even older. Yet he is very much in control, at least by one definition.

“I am the Raiders,’’ Davis reminds those who want him to relinquish the power. He still calls the shots. He still runs the draft. He still hires the coaches, and thus still fires the coaches. Beginning with 2002, he has hired and fired four coaches and then during last season brought in a fifth, Tom Cable, who hasn’t yet been fired.

Al Davis is a football man. He coached the Raiders in the early 1960s, briefly became commissioner of the AFL before it was merged into the NFL and for more than 40 years has been owner, general manager, dictator, czar and everything else possible.

The Raiders could be described as football incestuous, Davis rarely going outside the organization for a new face or new ideas. Two of the three times he has done so, bringing in Mike Shanahan to coach in the 1980s and Lane Kiffin in 2007, ended up in bitter divorces. Shanahan still claims the Raiders owe him back pay. Kiffin was dispatched “with cause,’’ which is about as nasty as it gets.

A football team is many parts, but the single most important of those parts, as in any business, is the individual at the top.

Davis knows more football than half of the NFL combined. One wonders if his concepts work in 2009. No less significantly, do the players used to employ those concepts meet the standards of 2009?

Two years ago, Oakland made a 6-foot-6, 260-pound quarterback, JaMarcus Russell, the No. 1 pick in the 2007 draft. Russell virtually can reach the moon with his throws, the extreme of the Al Davis philosophy of going deep. But he struggles to throw short. To read defenses. To be a leader.

When practice ended the other morning, the media chased after Russell. He’s making a ton of money, which in a way is incidental. All anyone cares about is whether he’ll make an impact.

LeBron-like, Russell refused to wait for an interview. In some ways, he couldn’t be blamed. How often need he respond to the same doubts?

In other ways, he could be blamed. Is JaMarcus learning the offense? Is he, as demanded of the very first man selected in any draft, capable of bringing a team back to glory?

That very question has been asked again and again of Al Davis. His appearance and the Raiders’ failings over the past several seasons give the critics their ammunition. He’s ancient, we’re told. His football style is ancient.

His mind, however, is sharp. That he walks slowly doesn’t mean he can’t think fast. He can remember players and games from the 1970s. He knows systems. He knows schemes. Maybe his own major fault is he doesn’t know how to – or doesn’t want to – delegate authority.

Davis admits mistakes, signing DeAngelo Hall, drafting Robert Gallery, who, despite size and potential, was incapable of becoming the blind-side tackle. But Davis won’t admit he no longer can create a champion.

Some despise Al. I admire him. He won’t give in or give up. Who can’t appreciate staying power, in a team or a man?

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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© RealClearSports 2009

Randy Johnson makes the Bay Area smile

As the man himself said, “It’s nice to have this moment.’’ More than nice, it was exciting. It was uplifting. For Randy Johnson. For his family. For baseball. No less significantly, for the Bay Area.

Maybe this hasn’t been a complete sporting wasteland. The Sharks had the best record in hockey before they collapsed as normal in the playoffs. Cal football had a winning record. But mostly, we’ve been through tough times.

The Giants, the A’s, the 49ers, the Raiders and the Warriors all have had a losing season, the 49ers and Raiders multiple losing seasons. We needed something to make us smile, to make us cheer. To make us remember the enjoyment inherent in sports.

On Thursday, we remembered.

On Thursday, Randy Johnson won his 300th game. He did it in a San Francisco Giants uniform. A carpetbagger, in a way. A “rent-a-player.’’

A newcomer who is an old-timer. But who also grew up in the region, Livermore, and has deep ties even if for the previous 20 of his 21 years he played in Montreal, Seattle, Houston, Arizona and New York.

The last memorable occasion was Barry Bonds’ 756th home run. Steroids didn’t matter. His personality didn’t matter. Barry drove one to centerfield and the strobe lights flashed and the crowd screamed. The ordinary had become the extraordinary.

Now, finally, another thrill. We’d been spoiled through the years, the Catch, Baron Davis’ dunk against Dallas, the Raiders’ Sea of Hands, Canseco’s blast into the upper desk in Toronto.

Do you recall Dave Stewart out-staring and out-pitching Roger Clemens? The instant the Giants captured the pennant in 2002?  Now we can recall 45-year-old Randy Johnson, laconic, iconic, bringing one home for Northern California.

“It was a long road,’’ Johnson said on the Comcast postgame show. “If there is one word to sum it up, I persevered.’’

Not just on a rainy afternoon in Washington, when the 6-foot-9 Johnson made history by becoming the 24th pitcher and sixth lefthander to reach 300 victories. But through a career in which, because of his size, he had to perfect mechanics and later had to come back from injuries.

Baseball, it’s been said, is less a team sport than a series of concerts by the artists. Still, when a baseball player helps himself, with a well-pitched game, with three hits in four at bats, he is helping his team. All of Johnson’s wins meant 300 victories for the clubs on which he played, number 300 coming for the benefit of the Giants.

“I’m exhausted,’’ conceded Johnson, who came out with a 2-1 lead after six, watched the defense make some spectacular plays to retain the advantage and then sat in the dugout when the often hitless Giants picked up three runs in the top of the ninth.

“I had a senior moment when I thought I was 25,’’ said Johnson. “Just think about it. I’m coming on 600 games.’’

Johnson’s son, Tanner, in a Giants uniform, was with his father. “I think the coolest moment has to be able to share it with a son,’’ Randy said.

“I wish my dad was here,’’ he added, referring to his late father. “But I haven’t been able to think about that for the last 17 years. I hope he was watching from up above.’’

The rest of us were watching from down here. And from everywhere. At Nationals Stadium, everyone seemed to be a Johnson fan, even those in red Washington caps. Baseball fans appreciate records, whether set by their team or the opposition.

Maybe Randy deserved a better stage, a larger crowd, but scripts are not to be prepared in sport. Everything is extemporaneous. You never know what might happen. Or what might not happen. Any hope that number 300 would be recorded at home, at AT&T, was incidental. You take what you can get.

Johnson went out and took this one, pitched beautifully. Which is what is needed for the Giants, a team that is last in hitting.

“I came here,’’ Johnson said of joining San Francisco, “to help this team turn things around.

“The one thing a pitcher has control over, essentially, is strikeouts. He has no control over wins that he gets. But wins always outweigh the strikeouts. I wanted to be known for winning games rather than for strikeouts.’’

He’s known for both. And in the Bay Area he’ll be known for an afternoon when we remembered the excitement of a magic moment. Welcome to the club, Randy.

RealClearSports: Scandals Are as Old as College Sports Itself

By Art Spander

One autumn day in ’69 – 1869 – young men from Rutgers and Princeton engaged in what they called a football game. That surely was the last time real students were called upon for such competition.

College sport these days is played by people chosen for the task – “student athletes,” as the NCAA describes them – and while they may go to class and even pass with flying honors (as compared to passing the football), they were brought in to win games. Or matches.

It is an inescapable fact: the better the athlete, the better the team. Which is why we have this little contretemps at Memphis, wherein the best high school basketball player in the nation a couple of years back, Derrick Rose, was readily enrolled, even though he may have cheated on his entrance exam.

And why the University of Southern California finds its reputation in danger on charges that Heisman Trophy winner Reggie Bush broke rules by accepting cash, a car and free housing, and charges that basketball star O.J. Mayo received improper payments from the school’s coach, Tim Floyd.

The Sorbonne doesn’t have a home-and-home series with Cambridge. Or anyone. There is no such thing in Europe as intercollegiate sports. Or high school sports. Kids go to school to study and learn. If they play games, it is for a club.

But this is the good old U.S. of A., where the idea is to fill stadiums and arenas, leading to hours of television coverage, all of which is accomplished by bringing in the Reggie Bushes and Derrick Roses. They purported themselves well, too, the Trojans and Tigers both reaching national championship games with Reggie and Derrick in the lineup.

Here, we stick decals of our school on the back window and slogans – “How ’bout them dogs” – on the back bumper. In Britain, rear-window decals identify the dealer where the car was purchased. How ’bout them cylinders?

It’s all a matter of talent. There’s a kid, runs the 40 in 4.4 and scored 30 touchdowns as a prep. Or maybe he’s 6-9 and averaged 25 points and 12 rebounds. Intellectually, he’s not Albert Einstein. But your rival is chasing him. And as the sports sociologist Harry Edwards points out, “If you don’t get him, they’ll get him and use him against you.”

So Kelvin Sampson becomes a little too aggressive after coming to Indiana.

So a long while ago, SMU gets the so-called Death Penalty for a zillion violations, but with Eric Dickerson and Craig James, the Mustangs did beat Texas, meaning it was worth it to the alums.

So even Harvard – Harvard! – is accused of a number of questionable practices to work around NCAA rules by hiring an assistant basketball coach who had been traveling and playing pickup games with potential athletes.

It’s not going to change. Ever. Penn State has expanded its stadium to more than 100,000. Michigan, Tennessee and Ohio State all are in six figures. You think those schools, you think any school in big time sports, might be scouring PE classes for a quarterback? Or a point guard?

“Football,” said a man named Elbert Hubbard, “is a sport that bears the same relationship to education that bullfighting does to agriculture.”

Ole! And back at you.

“A school without football,” said Vince Lombardi, “is in danger of deteriorating into a medieval study hall.” As if Vince, who went from Fordham to coach in the NFL, knew anything about medieval study halls. Now, blocking and tackling, that was different.

What will happen to USC or to Memphis is probably nothing. USC has been under a cloud for months – Bush has been on the New Orleans Saints since 2006 – and already Memphis is in full denial, insisting it found no proof Rose cheated on the exam. Derrick, of course, joined the NBA as soon as possible.

The people who buy the season tickets are remarkably unmoved by any and all accusations. They don’t care how you win, they just want you to win. And to hell with anyone looking for trouble.

It was in 1976 when Frank Boggs of the Oklahoma City Times, acknowledged to be the best sportswriter in the state, wrote a story that another NCAA investigation of the University of Oklahoma’s football program was under way.

Boggs, merely the messenger, not the cause, was harassed, threatened and had to have police protection. A caller said he would burn down Boggs’ home. Eventually, Boggs moved to Colorado.

Jack Taylor, who shared the byline with Boggs, had done pieces on the Mafia and corruption in government, but said public reaction to the football story was “much more controversial” than anything he ever had written.

People don’t want the truth. They want championships.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009. 

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http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/06/scandals-old-as-college-sports-itself.html
© RealClearSports 2009 

SF Examiner: Odds of 49ers staying in S.F. are slim to none

SAN FRANCISCO — So what do you think of the Santa Clara 49ers? The training facility is in Santa Clara. The presumptive new stadium will be in Santa Clara.

Why then should they ever be called the San Francisco 49ers again?

We nearly had the Fremont A’s, who still think of themselves as the San Jose A’s. They remain determined to pull a fast one on Oakland, which put a lot of money into the Coliseum, but is a city without cachet.

For the moment, it’s an NFL team going south — literally.

San Francisco used to be the place where the action was. It had the bridges, the little cable cars and the Niners, the first major sports franchise in Northern California.

It also, besides the Giants, had the Warriors. Yes, they were the San Francisco Warriors before playing a few games in San Diego, being given the mythical title of Golden State and then relocating along the Nimitz.

At least the Warriors — Team Dysfunction (And hasn’t that surreptitious e-mail from HQ been a hoot and a half?) — are only a BART ride away from The City, where they once played. And where the Niners will have once played.

True, until Jed York puts his Gucci shoes on a gold-plated shovel in one of those photo-op poses and construction symbolically is underway, the stadium remains only a talking point, though a cost of $937 million is an expensive talking point.

A lot of promises have been made, but the good citizens of Santa Clara must give their approval, and, hey, even the bottom-end of Silicon Valley has an independent streak.

You know there’s going to be opposition, because in Northern California, unless it’s a vote to save salamanders or marijuana fields in Mendocino, there’s always opposition.

Back in the late 1990s, after San Franciscans, at least those who actually voted, passed a $100-million measure that seemingly enabled the Niners to get a new facility at the old location, the team was going to have a combination 
stadium-shopping center at Candlestick.

But first the team went semi-bad, then was snatched away from benevolent owner Eddie DeBartolo, who according to the courts was more than semi-bad, and taken over by the man Eddie wouldn’t invite to his own parties, brother-in-law John York.

About the only thing Eddie and John had in common was the undeniable belief the Stick was a pig sty and not a very pretty place.

Nor were the Niners a very pretty team the last few years.

In the 21st century, it became apparent San Francisco had neither the political maneuvering (come back Willie Brown, wherever you are) or the financial support to keep its team within the city limits.

Mayor Gavin Newsom, with the assistance of one-time Niners executive Carmen Policy, couldn’t make a go of it, and so the Niners are destined to flee one city named after a saint to another.

“It’s a great deal,” said Patricia Mahan, the mayor of Santa Clara.

You expect her to be critical?

Good riddance, then, Niners. The City will still have the Giants and AT&T Park, the anti-pig sty. Things could be worse.

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

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http://www.sfexaminer.com/sports/Spander-Odds-of-49ers-staying-in-SF-are-slim-to-none-46775722.html
Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company 

Magic, Serena are in and Cavs are way out

The Magic is in, and the Cavs are way out. Serena is in, meaning her usual controversy as well as the fourth round of the French Open. And Venus is out. Interesting enough weekend for you?

The Lakers had to love it. Without Phil Jackson voicing a single complaint, they now have the home-court advantage for the NBA finals.

ABC-TV has to rue it. Kobe vs. LeBron is simply another failed dream.

Tennis has to appreciate it. Serena Williams is what America finds irresistible, an unending drama, the true reality show.

LeBron James is a great basketball player. If he weren’t, the Cavaliers would have been swept by the Orlando Magic, instead of losing the Eastern Conference finals in six games.

What Nike’s going to do now with that commercial of Muppet-like characters representing a dueling LeBron and Kobe is anyone’s guess. What Cleveland’s going to do now that its team, which had the best record of the regular season, laid a dinosaur-sized egg is everyone’s guess.

LeBron leaves for the Knicks when his contract is up in another year. You want to hang around a team that isn’t a team, but just one magnificent player who virtually by himself could win two games in the playoffs but found it impossible to win four?

Venus Williams played, well, about as poorly as the Cavs, losing on Friday to someone you’ve never heard of, Agnes Szavay, 6-0, 6-4. Yes the multiple Grand Slam winner, the No. 3 seed, got bageled, which is what some of the tennis folk call a shutout. Only the 14th time in 662 matches Venus was blanked in a set.

But Serena wasn’t to put up with that nonsense. She not only rumbled back from her usual slow start on Saturday, over there on the clay in Paris, to beat Maria Jose Martinez Sanchez, 4-6, 6-3, 6-4 (don’t they have a limit of three names in tennis?), Serena accused Martinez Sanchez of cheating.

Now, there’s a lady you have to like. Enough of this etiquette stuff.

In the first set, Serena smashed a ball at Sanchez, and most people, including Williams but not her opponent, thought the ball never touched Sanchez’s racket but instead banged off her right arm and dropped on Williams side of the net.

Sanchez won the point, even though the rules dictate that if the ball hit her body, the point belonged to Serena.

Serena first apologized for driving the ball at Sanchez, the normal procedure, but then added about the apparent cheating, “I’m going to get you in the locker room for that. You don’t know me.’’

The rest of us do. Serena has the toughness needed to be a champion, the toughness the Cavaliers only wish they had.

The Orlando Magic aren’t a lot of frauds, not with people such as Dwight Howard or Rashard Lewis. But neither are they supposed to be facing the Lakers.

The script was LeBron against Kobe, this year’s MVP against last year’s MVP. Nice try.

Some of the people out there, the reasonable thinkers, had the smarts to point out that teams with one superstar never win championships, that Michael had Scottie, that Kobe had Shaq. LeBron’s cast didn’t provide that balance.

Amazing didn’t happen in Cleveland. Orlando happened in Cleveland. And to Cleveland. Orlando, in truth, was relentless. If it wasn’t for LeBron’s ridiculous shot with no time on the clock in game two, the Magic would have taken four straight games.

The Lakers will not take four straight from Orlando, but they will win another title. After its inability to show anything resembling Serena Williams’ gutsy style in the first few games against the Nuggets, L.A. came through with a vengeance to take the conference title.

You have to believe that the Lakers finally have figured out what is required. And, even with their sometimes listless play against Houston and then Denver, the Lakers did end up winners, which is all that matters.

Kobe seems particularly focused. He’s the man now. Considerable help from Pau Gasol and Trevor Ariza, but Kobe Bryant controls the game. He doesn’t need to share the basketball and for certain he won’t have to share attention.

No LeBron. But a very enticing NBA final. And should Serena continue another few matches, the final of the French Open could be just as enticing.

RealClearSports: Ignore 'Who's Better' Debates and Enjoy NBA Playoffs

By Art Spander

Another one of those unwinnable arguments. Another incessant and illogical need to compare. Another question that can’t be answered but has some people lined up determined to try.

Is LeBron better than Kobe?

Then again, is Kobe better than Michael? Or Michael better than Magic or Larry? Or, even though he played a different game in a different era, is Bill Russell, on the strength of his championships, better than anyone?

I’m going to appreciate every one of them. They were special, they are special. And just because ESPN or some other publication asks for a vote on who’s No. 1, we don’t have to be lulled into the trap and provide a response.

Now, if you ask if LeBron James was fantastic Thursday night, that’s different. Or if Kobe has been fantastic game after game. Or if Dwight Howard and Carmelo Anthony have shown they are among the elite, well, there’s no argument.

Basketball is the ultimate team game, so we dare not forget the other characters in the dramas, Pau Gasol, Chauncey Billups, Mo Williams, people far more than role players.

We’re getting everything we could wish, a postseason that – and yes, I’m breaking my own rule of rejecting comparisons – could be the best ever.

From the Bulls-Celtics series, that had it been the NBA finals and not simply a first-rounder still would have us talking and reflecting, the excitement has come sweeping at us in endless waves. What next?

Take it from someone, me, who has been there, someone who started watching the NBA when Jerry West, “The Logo,’’ was a rookie, 1960, it doesn’t get any better than it has been.

Even Magic-Bird. Even Rick Barry-Elvin Hayes. Even when in 1976 Gar Heard threw in that miracle for the Suns and forced the Celtics to go to triple overtime.

I was down on the NBA for a few years. The play didn’t meet the hype. The game was too programmed, too restricted, great athletes figuratively tethered by coaches who would rather have a wrestling match than a ballet.

But what’s out there now – what we’re witnessing, to expand on the theme of LeBron and the Cavaliers – is compelling theater, must-see theater. The wow factor has taken control. And isn’t that what counts?

If you’re a Lakers fan, a Cavs fan, or a fan of the other two teams still playing as May heads into June, it’s results that matter. For the rest of us, it’s method.

To watch LeBron hit that 3-pointer with time running out in Game 2, to watch the Magic hold off the Cavs with Tiger Woods in the building, to watch Denver attempt the virtually impossible scheme of keeping Kobe Bryant from getting off his jumper, is what sport is all about.

We don’t need Charles Barkley or Kenny Smith to tell us how great these games and players have been. We know. And we’re enthralled. How do the Cavs blow a 22-point lead and still win by 10? How does LeBron keep on running and jumping, shooting and passing?

It’s all worked out perfectly for the two networks, ESPN and TNT, one evening Lakers-Nuggets, the next Cavs-Magic, guaranteed excitement every 24 hours.

It’s all worked out perfectly for us, the sporting public who can’t wait for the next tipoff.

In his famed dictionary of 1755, Samuel Johnson, the Englishman, called sport “tumultuous merriment.’’ A brilliant definition, and surely the last few weeks the NBA playoffs have left us tumultuously merry.

Technical fouls have been called and then rescinded. Mark Cuban, unfortunately, belittled Denver’s Kenyon Martin via e-mail. In L.A., Jack Nicholson, from his $2,500 seat, has cheered the Lakers but given the high sign now and then to their opponents.

The NFL is No. 1 in America, a fact well recognized when this week Sports Illustrated put Tom Brady on its cover. And baseball has history on its side, carrying back to the 19th century. But basketball has found its place, on the tube, in our hearts.

If the play has been a trifle erratic, if it’s hard to figure why the Lakers look so good at home and so bewildering away, that’s only contributed to the excitement. Teams coming unglued. Teams coming back.

We were promised entertainment, and the playoffs have lived up to the promise. Is LeBron better than Kobe? Who cares, as long as they and Carmelo and Dwight are making us gasp and hope these games never end.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.   

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http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/hoping_playoffs_dont_end.html
© RealClearSports 2009

RealClearSports: Serena Williams, A Conundrum of a Champion

By Art Spander

It’s her life. Maybe we should let it go at that. Maybe we should appreciate what Serena Williams has given to sport, to her sport of tennis, appreciate the championships and the panache, acknowledge what is, rather than question what might have been.

Maybe the gentle arrogance and the irritating independence are at the heart of her success, and the success of her sister, Venus. Maybe if she acted like the other players, thought like the other players, she’d be just another player, and not one who earned the titles, if not always earning the proper respect.

Serena won a first-round match at the French Open on Tuesday, won it in agonizing fashion for someone who, depending on either her viewpoint or the WTA rankings, is the best or second best female player on the globe.

She staggered and stumbled and squandered eight match points before finally dispatching somebody named Klara Zakopalova, who is ranked 100th.

But she won. As she has so often, confounding some, enthralling others. Oh, what a gift those sisters were awarded, such athleticism. Oh, what brilliance those sisters displayed. Oh, what doubts those sisters created.

The critics have badgered Venus, older by 15 months, and Serena, practically forever. When they weren’t praising them.

Venus and Serena were different, two African-Americans in a sport once as white as the attire prescribed for Wimbledon. They grew up on the tough streets of Compton, east of Los Angeles, instructed and shepherded by a father who made bold predictions and made others outraged.

The Williams sisters, the Williams family, were separate from the rest. They were more powerful than the rest. For a while in the early 2000s, it was Venus against Serena or Serena against Williams in virtually every final of every Grand Slam. A whimpering Amelie Mauresmo, who eventually would go on to win Wimbledon and the Australian, once proclaimed such domination unfair.

Then Venus either lost interest or was constantly injured. Or both. Then Serena got bored and went into movies or was constantly injured. Or both. But when Venus won Wimbledon in ’07 and ’08 and Serena the ’08 U.S. Open and ’09 Australian, a new theory was put forth. The opportunity to escape to other interests is what enabled the Sisters Williams to stay after other winners — Kim Clijsters, Justine Henin — departed because of burnout.

Still, Mary Carillo, the great tennis commentator, was adamant about the Williams’ careers, particularly that of Serena. Not that long ago, Serena and Tiger Woods were at the top of their respective sports. Tiger hasn’t left. Serena was a missing person.

“You can’t waste time when you’re an athlete,” said Carillo. “Careers are short. I thought Serena was going to break every record. She should have.”

But even with 10 Grand Slam victories, she has not.

Two weeks back, when Dinara Safina of Russia replaced her in the No. 1 position in the rankings, Serena huffed, “We all know who is No. 1. Quite frankly I’m the best in the world.”

Did we detect a bit of bitterness? Or was Serena attempting to remind us that when dropshot comes to forehand, she’d be the last one standing? The great thing about individual sports is you go out and beat everyone and you can’t be denied.

We’re never going to get into the psyche of Serena or Venus. We’re never going to learn why they always seem to be hurt when they lose. Or why they don’t always give an opponent credit when they win.

“My goal,” Serena said last year, “always has been to have the best time and to do the best I can.” She’s had the time of her life. Others worry that at age 27, time and tennis have passed her by. That would be hard to believe, especially since Serena has talked of competing in the ’12 Olympics.

The French, at Roland Garros in Paris, is played on red clay. Americans traditionally haven’t done well on the surface, although Serena won the tournament in 2002. This year, Serena had lost her only three matches on clay, one of those to Zakopalova, a Czech.

“I think I just played horrendous,” Serena said of her first-round win, sounding very unlike the young lady who a few days earlier boasted she was “quite frankly the best in the world.”

“I think I was a little nervous because I hadn’t won a match on clay all year, and I was desperate for a win.”

Desperate is a word new to Serena’s vocabulary. She’s never felt the need to use it. Now she understands. She owes us nothing, but she owes herself the chance to play every match as if it will be her last.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009. 

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http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/serena_williams_a_conundrum_of.html
© RealClearSports 2009 

SF Examiner: Bay Area teams hurt by MLB scheduling

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

There was a woman, an entertainer, who in her era was scandalous but today wouldn’t even draw a reprimand from the so-called religious right. Mae West was the lady’s name, and among her axioms was one advising too much of a good thing is wonderful.

For no good reason, the people who create the schedules for major league baseball unfortunately have concurred. Thus the beginning of the week the Giants and A’s both have been playing at home. Not too bad for the Giants, who on Memorial Day drew 40,034 to AT&T Park.

Terrible for the A’s, who on the very same Monday afternoon had only 15,280. That, surprisingly and delightfully, both teams managed a rare combo win begs the issue. If a game is played and virtually nobody watches it — the situation for the A’s — does it count? It’s tough enough in Oakland, with the team crawling along on the bottom of American League West, but to force the A’s to go head-to-head for attendance with the more established Giants at the same time in a different — and less attractive — place, is grossly unfair.

Not that people beyond our fair region give a hoot. The Mets and Yankees have no trouble getting both attention and attendance in a metropolitan area of 18 million. Chicago can handle the Cubs and White Sox playing a few miles apart, and the Dodgers are in Los Angeles and the Angels are in Anaheim — no matter what the name implies — a 30-mile separation.

We’re told scheduling difficulties are caused by interleague play and there aren’t enough dates available to prevent conflicts. So baseball gives the A’s the shaft, and it isn’t being very kind to the Giants because both teams must jockey for space in papers shrinking like, well, I was going to say Travis Ishikawa’s batting average, but then the man hits a home run and goes 4-for-4. 

There was an era when the term June Swoon held great fear for Giants fans, the team usually playing well through May and then collapsing as summer arrived. It won’t be a problem this year for a franchise that is helpless at the plate — or was until Ishikawa’s unforeseen breakout.

The rumored trade for Dan Uggla? Or Nick Johnson? Neither deal would hurt. But the name Matt Cain should not be allowed in any discussion. Better to lose, 2-1, which the Giants have done much too often, than 8-7, which is what the A’s did the other night after holding a 5-1 lead going into eighth against Arizona.

After spring training, the suggestion was if you could link the A’s hitting with the Giants’ pitching you might have a winner. The problem has been the A’s weren’t hitting, and while the Giants do have a strong staff, particularly Cain, Tim Lincecum and hard-luck Barry Zito, they also have Brian Wilson, who can blow any lead.

Each club is stuck mostly with what it has. And the beginning of this week each was stuck playing home games against the other. A bad idea indeed.

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

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http://www.sfexaminer.com/sports/Bay-Area-teams-hurt-by-MLB-scheduling-46182392.html
Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company

A’s make a mess of game in which Giambi makes history

OAKLAND –  History? The Athletics made some Saturday night. At least Jason Giambi did. They also made a mess of a game they should have won, but of course did not win.

Because they are the Athletics.

This one was as bad it gets for a team that’s become very bad.  That’s become terrible. That’s become atrocious. That’s always been agonizing.

A team that has the second worst record in the American League, the third worst in the majors.

A team that carried a 5-1 lead into the eighth inning against the Arizona Diamondbacks, who are almost as awful as the A’s, and then ended up losing to the D-backs, 8-7, in 11 excruciating innings.

Remember that Sinatra song, “Saturday Night is the Loneliest Night of the Week’’? Not this Saturday night. Not with 21,295 people in the stands at the Coliseum. Maybe a majority came for the post-game fireworks show, not that it matters. Maybe a majority came for the in-game fireworks.

Four home runs by the A’s, including the 400th of his career by Giambi. Another by Jack Cust, who, with practically every living soul in the stadium playing him to pull to right, where he had homered in the first, bunted safely down the third-base line. Another by Adam Kennedy. Another by Nomar Garciaparra.

Four home runs, and a seventh loss in the last nine games. And a 25th loss in 40 games overall.

Four home runs and no pitching. If you don’t count Edgar Gonzalez, up from the minors and making his first start for Oakland, against his last big-league team, Arizona. Went five innings and gave up only a run. You mean the A’s were going to win one? Ha!

Russ Springer, the third of seven – yes, seven – A’s pitchers started the eighth for the A’s and gave up three straight hits. He was replaced by Andrew Bailey, who after an out allowed a single to Eric Byrnes that scored two runs and a double to Chad Tracy that scored two more. And it was 5-5.

Where it stayed until the 11th, when Craig Breslow and Santiago Casilla combined to disprove the label “reliever’’ as Arizona scored three runs. That Oakland got a couple in the bottom of the inning only proved all the more agitating.

Especially for Giambi, who in the 13th year of his career returned to the A’s with the idea he might provide a bit of power, which finally he has done, and some credibility.

“We’ve got to stop giving away games,’’ said Giambi. “Hopefully we can turn it around before we bury ourselves.’’

They’ve already been buried. The season is done. All that’s left is pride. And it’s not even June.

Giambi drew some cheers from a crowd that at game’s close, 3 hours and 44 minutes after the beginning, was given to booing. Understandably.

“It’s an incredible thing,’’ Giambi said of becoming the 44th player to reach the 400-homer mark. “I had lots of ups and downs. The biggest thing is it was here in Oakland . I wish it could have been sooner, but I’m glad they got to see it where I started.’’

What they also saw was an A’s team unable to free itself from failure. Oakland hit those four home runs off the man the A’s traded to Arizona, Dan Haren, the most he ever allowed in a game. But you’ve got to stop the other team, and Oakland could not.

How’s it going to change? In a stretch of four games at Detroit and Tampa Bay a few days ago, the A’s were outscored a combined 47-13. That’s not baseball, that’s a debacle.

Those billboards advertise that the A’s are “100 percent baseball.’’  In truth, they’re 100 percent sad. The A’s play them close, and they lose. The A’s get smacked around, they lose. As if we needed any additional proof, that’s the mark of a team without hope.

Oakland signed Giambi and Matt Holliday, Orlando Cabrera and Nomar Garciaparra. But none is a pitcher. None comes out of the bullpen.

Even the bottom feeders in baseball win 60 to 70 games, but that won’t do around here. For the last year we kept hearing all that wasted talk about the A’s building a ballpark. What they need to build is a team.

Jason Giambi and the batters did what they could. It wasn’t enough. It’s never enough when a game that should be won turns into a game that’s a reflection of a season beyond repair.

RealClearSports: Michael Vick Will Be Back

By Art Spander

He will be back. Whether we like it or not, Michael Vick again will be in the NFL, again playing football, again making a big salary, again being chased by linebackers and by autograph seekers. Success trumps morality.

These are the words and phrases too frequently heard and seen the last few days: He has paid his debt to society. Everyone deserves a second chance. He has learned his lesson.The question is, have we learned our lesson? And will we ever learn it?

Do attributes such as being able to throw a football or shoot a basketball take precedent over a value system? When do we stop giving in to our urge to be champions? When do we judge an individual on the way he or she treats others, or treats animals, rather than simply on athletic talent?

Losing is the great American sin. John Tunis wrote that. He was a Harvard grad, a journalist and then, before and after World War II, an author of juvenile sporting fiction. But that’s no childhood hypothesis from Tunis.

We will do virtually anything, and use virtually anyone, to win.

The way the St. Louis Rams used Leonard Little after he was convicted of manslaughter when, his blood level far above that of intoxication, Little crashed his SUV into and killed Susan Gutweiler in 1998.

He got 90 days in jail, four years probation and a spot in the starting lineup for a Super Bowl. Six years later he was acquitted of driving while intoxicated.

Leonard Little killed an innocent victim, if unintentionally. Michael Vick killed innocent dogs, and it was intentional. He was sent to prison. As we are well aware from television coverage worthy of the appearance of a head of state, Vick has been released to home confinement.

The commissioner of the NFL, Roger Goodell, told us, “Michael’s going to have to demonstrate to myself and the general public and to a lot of people, did he learn anything from this experience? Does he regret what happened…”

I regret what happened. I have two dogs. Bless the beasts and children. Vick and his cronies tortured the beasts. That’s not nearly as terrible as what Leonard Little did. Or is it?

The disturbing part of Vick’s over-publicized release from Leavenworth Prison to home confinement was the way it was analyzed. Not in how he should be judged as a person but only as a football player. “Four teams could use him,” was one of the reports.

He’ll play. Goodell, wisely, will refrain from making a decision on allowing Vick to rejoin the league, waiting while Vick offers contrition, while groups such as the SPCA or Humane Society monitor his supposed progress.

Eventually Michael Vick will return as much because he might help some team win a title as because we are a forgiving nation.

Two viewpoints on Vick’s possible reinstatement were in Sporting News today. “Let me put it this way,” said Paul Hornung, the onetime all-pro for the Packers and a Heisman Trophy winner. “I love dogs. If I was commissioner I’d be a lot tougher on these guys … I just don’t think he should get in.”

That Hornung was suspended the 1963 season for gambling is an issue that may or may not be relevant.

Ted Hendricks, a linebacker who along with Hornung is in the Pro Football Hall of Fame, said of Vick, “He’s paid his debt to society, so I think he should be reinstated. I’m sure he’ll be an asset to whoever signs him.”

Of course. Or no one would sign him.

If Michael Vick were an ordinary player, all this would be moot. Except for the dog fighting, which is both despicable and illegal. But Vick was the first player taken in the 2001 draft, a quarterback who can run as well as pass, a quarterback who can make a difference.

Vick is special. That with his talent, fame and wealth he needed to find enjoyment from an activity in which helpless animals are set upon each other is beyond the understanding of most of us.

Humans make mistakes. That we do comprehend. Yet there’s difference in going 50 mph in a 35 zone and in operating a dog-fighting network over a period of five years.

Michael Vick will be back. He’ll say the correct things and do the correct things. Roger Goodell will approve reinstatement and some team that figures all it needs is Michael Vick to get to the Super Bowl will sign him.

I’ll grit my teeth and wish him well.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/michael-vick-will-be-back.html
© RealClearSports 2009

RealClearSports: A Collision, Not a Dance

By Art Spander

The game is portrayed as one of elegance and grace, ballet in Nikes. In truth, pro basketball is a contact sport, with huge men crashing into each other, shoving and pushing. They’d just as soon knock down an opponent as they would knock down a jumper.

We weren’t sure what to expect when the Lakers met the Denver Nuggets on Tuesday night. Other than there would be a lot of fouls. Oh, and that the Nuggets would try to intimidate a Laker team that had everyone bewildered. Including the Lakers themselves.

A few weeks ago, in our usual rush to judgment, and with our monumental impatience, the NBA finalists had been decided, at least by people who have nothing better to do than express opinions.

It would be the Cleveland Cavaliers against the Lakers. It would be LeBron James against Kobe Bryant. It still might be, although we are less sure. And to hear Kobe talk after the Lakers staggered past the Nuggets, 105-103, in the opener of the Western Conference finals, maybe the Lakers also were less sure.

Although the win, which seemingly halted the problems and the doubts created when the Lakers at times lacked direction and maybe lacked a little heart, probably changed everything.

Had the Nuggets been up 1-0 after a game on the Lakers’ home floor, they would be in control. Jack Nicholson and the other swells in the $2,500 courtside seats would be distraught. But it’s the Lakers up 1-0, winning a game of floor burns and bruised bodies, if not of bruised egos.

“They outplayed us,” said Lakers coach Phil Jackson, “and we won the game.”

Unlike a couple of those miserable performances against the Houston Rockets in the last series, when the Lakers needed the entire seven games to beat a team without its two main men, Tracy McGrady and Yao Ming.

The Lakers won because they have Kobe Bryant, who scored 40 points, 18 in the fourth quarter. And because they have Trevor Ariza, who in the closing seconds made a steal that showed anticipation as well as agility.

They won despite Carmelo Anthony, who scored 39 for the Nuggets.

This is what you expect from the big ones, your best players at their best. And so it was with Kobe and Carmelo. One would score. Then the other. Bryant courageously tried to stop Anthony on defense.

“He’s a bull,” Bryant would say in interviews carried on ESPNEWS.

A few days ago, after they had beaten the Rockets by 40 at home, the Lakers lost to the Rockets by 15 on the road. The probable matchup against the Cavs and LeBron seemed as far away as Mars. The sharp knives were out, wielded by critics who justifiably thought the Lakers caved in.

Even Kobe on Tuesday night felt compelled to use the word “capitulated,” indicating he was no less disgusted than the rest of us.

There was no capitulation against the Nuggets, who, while a lesser team than the Lakers, have the paranoia necessary to want to succeed. Denver is out to show something. The Lakers, on the other hand, are mostly worried about showtime.

The Lakers are more than L.A.’s team, they are L.A.’s focus. There’s no pro football franchise, if you don’t count USC, albeit many people do. There are only the Dodgers, Manny-less at the moment but still winning, and the Lakers, a team of stars and of the Hollywood stars. Along with Nicholson, Denzel Washington, Drew Barrymore and Justin Timberlake were in attendance.

Every time the Lakers are on the court, especially postseason, it’s less an athletic contest than a production number. You think the reviews were tough for “Angels & Demons,” check them out after the Lakers have a bad night. The water cooler talk about Tom Hanks is no less catty than it is about Kobe or Pau Gasol.

Kobe is The Man. As opposed to The Manny. Bryant had his own troubles six years ago, but those are a distant memory. Now Kobe is an MVP. Now Kobe is a savior.

“I could score 35 a night if I want, but that’s not something I’m concerned with,” he said without bragging. “I want to win a championship. Tonight, it was something we needed, but that’s not my goal.”

Jackson, the Lakers coach, agreed. “We had very little else going for us besides Kobe,” he insisted. “And at the end when we needed a basket he muscled his way through.”

In pro basketball, you get physical or you get beat.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/lakers-nuggets-collision-not-dance.html
© RealClearSports 2009

SF Examiner: Niners’ season could hinge on QB decision

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

SAN FRANCISCO — In May, we ask about September, about the 49ers, about the most important of positions, about  the quarterback. In May, we wonder who will be starting when the season is starting.

That’s the issue as the Niners hold a minicamp, or what in NFL newspeak is labeled an “OTA” (organized team activity).

That’s the issue, who plays quarterback for the franchise of quarterbacks, the franchise of Frankie Albert, John Brodie, Joe Montana, Steve Young and Jeff Garcia.

Mike Singletary is a defensive guy, a Hall of Fame linebacker.

Singletary is a slug-it-out guy, who played for the Chicago Bears, a slug-it-out team.

“We will go out and hit people in the mouth,” Singletary promised in October after his first game as the then interim coach.

Maybe that works here by the Bay, maybe not.

We’re used to passes, short or long. We’re used to offense. We’re used to a quarterback who does more than hand-off.

So who’s that quarterback? Shaun Hill, the undrafted overachiever who doesn’t so much win games as he does from keeping the Niners from losing them?

Or from off the scrapheap, Alex Smith, the first man taken in the ’05 draft who for various reasons — injuries, coaching switches — has done almost nothing?

Does Hill, who we’re told is more caretaker than offensive innovator, become Singletary’s choice to keep the game under control?

Or does Smith, healthy again, get the opportunity to show the reason he was selected ahead of every other player then available?

“We’re all communicating,” Singletary said of players and staff. “They’re going to tell us when that decision needs to be made. They’re going to compete.”

The Niners brought in free-agent Kurt Warner for a visit after the Super Bowl, even after Singletary fired offensive coordinator Mike Martz, who years ago with the St. Louis Rams built the offense, the “Greatest Show on Turf,” which made Warner a star.

Warner never was going to join the 49ers. He re-signed with the Arizona Cardinals, the NFC champions.

So do the Niners believe in Hill or in Smith? Or in neither? Do the Niners, with their seventh offensive coordinator in seven years,Jimmy Raye, feel confident Hill, who spent seasons on the Vikings’ bench or Smith, who got trashed by former coach Mike Nolan, can make a losing team a winner?

“They’re competing not so much against each other,” Singletary said in one of those coaching comments that bewilders more than it explains, “but against the best quarterbacks in the league.”

Not until one of them is named starter. Not until the games begin.

“Coach Singletary is a fiery guy,” Hill said about the coach’s displeasure with the way both he and Smith performed in the first day’s workout, “and he obviously holds the quarterbacks to a high standard.”

A standard maybe neither QB reaches, although one of them will be reaching for the football from behind center.

“At the end of the day,” Singletary said, “we’ll know when that decision needs to be made, and we’ll do it.”

And we’ll hope they’ve done it correctly.

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com andwww.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

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http://www.sfexaminer.com/sports/Spander-Niners-season-could-hinge-on-QB-decision-45456527.html
Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company 

Giants needed a win against the Mets and got one

SAN FRANCISCO – The Giants needed to win it. Nothing could have been more obvious. We didn’t need the observation from manager Bruce Bochy on that necessity, although we had it.

“Some games are bigger than others,’’ said Bochy, defying the baseball axiom that 162 times a season nothing varies, “and we needed to win this ballgame.’’

Which they did win. Showing poise. Showing skill. Showing the rest of us, the doubters, that while they’re not going to be winning any championships, as long as the Dodgers keep scoring runs in bunches, the Giants will be a presence. Four in a row they had lost, one to the Washington Nationals and then, through various methods, the first three of a four-game series against the New York Mets.

Four in a row, and Bochy sighing, “The last thing you want to do is get swept at home.’’

And because of Matt Cain, and a couple of double plays, one with nobody out and the bases loaded in the second inning that went first baseman Travis Ishikawa to catcher Bengie Molina to Ishikawa, it would be the last thing.

Against a team that had scored 24 runs in the previous three games, against a team that starting back in 2008 had beaten them eight consecutive times, the Giants on Sunday evening stopped the Mets, 2-0, before a third straight sellout crowd, this announced at 43,012.

They tell us you never know what you’ll see at the old ballgame. What we saw was the Mets getting no runs while their pitcher Mike Pelfrey got called for three balks, the most by any pitcher in the big leagues in 15 years. The first two balks were in no small part responsible for each of the Giants’ runs.

“That was a break for us,’’ said Bochy.

So for two consecutive weeks, the Giants have been at .500 or above. That wouldn’t have been the situation with another loss. They were 18-18 before the first pitch. Now they’re 19-18. Now closer Brian Wilson’s nightmares are squelched. Now the Giants once more can believe in the pitching upon which they must rely. Or haven’t you seen the batting averages?

Yes, Pablo Sandoval, who had a first inning single, was balked to second and scored on Bengie Molina’s single, is at .314. And Molina, the rock, is hitting .304. But Eugenio Velez, who led off and played second, is at .111. And Nate Schierholtz is .217. And Ishikawa is .236. And Aaron Rowand .248. And Randy Winn .255.

If it is to be done, it will be done by pitching, and so Sunday, when the game-time temperature was 76 degrees and ESPN was carrying the telecast, it was done by pitching.

Mostly by Cain. Then Bob Howry. Then Jeremy Affeldt, who stopped a possible eighth inning rally by striking out Gary Sheffield and forcing pinch hitter Angel Pagan to hit into a double play. Then, at last, by Wilson, who after disintegrating on Thursday and Friday had a perfect ninth.

“We dodged a couple of bullets,’’ agreed Bochy. “Couple of huge double plays saved us. We played well defensively. Matt worked hard the first couple of innings, and he got through it. He kept his composure and made pitches. I wasn’t sure in the second we were going to get six out of him.’’

In the second, you couldn’t be sure you were going to get two out of Cain. He walked the bases loaded with nobody out. Then the double play. Then a groundout by Pelfrey. Then a sigh of relief.

Cain had thrown 49 pitches by the time the inning closed. “But he’s a horse,’’ said Bochy.

Rachel Alexandra? Mine That Bird? This was Cain’s Derby and Preakness. If he couldn’t go wire-to-wire, he could go 119 pitches, go through six innings, go far enough and strongly enough to improve his record to 4-1 with a 2.65 earned run average.

“This game was huge for our team,’’ said Affeldt. “Matt did everything. His pitching kept us in the game, and he had a big hit.’’

That came in the fifth. Rowand was on third after a single, Pelfrey’s second balk and a groundout by Ishikawa. Bochy, knowing Cain is good bunter, called the suicide squeeze. Rowand took off, but Pelfrey’s pitch dove so severely that Cain could just knock the ball foul.

With the count 3 and 2, Cain had to swing, not bunt. He swung and lined a single to left, bringing in Rowand.

“Matt Cain doesn’t panic,’’ said Affeldt. “When you needed what we needed, he gave it to us.’’

Cain said he tried to keep his emotions in check. “When you get into the situations I put myself in,’’ he said, “you have to stay calm. It worked out great.’’

After four straight losses, it was about time.

Newsday: Sheff leads Mets' hit parade to support Santana

BY ART SPANDER
Special to Newsday

SAN FRANCISCO -- The story keeps getting better, for Gary Sheffield, for the Mets. The man who was unwanted the first day of April now is described as the man who has given character to a team criticized the previous two years for lacking it.

Three in a row for the Mets over San Francisco. Yesterday, when the fog was absent and the temperature reached the high 70s by the bay, the Mets pounded the Giants, 9-6, before another sellout of 41,336 at AT&T Park.

Three in a row, 11 out of 13, and Mets manager Jerry Manuel talking not about what but how, about the "little things,'' primarily from Sheffield.

"Our biggest at-bat'' is what Manuel said of Sheffield at the plate in the first. There already were two runs in, Carlos Beltran having doubled home Luis Castillo and Alex Cora.

"Sheff gives himself up,'' Manuel said. "He went the other way, to the right side. He got a base hit anyway, but I thought that set the tone for us for the whole game.

"If we're able to play that type of game and run and have occasional power, then we can be a pretty tough team.''

They've been a problem team for the Giants, taking eight straight from San Francisco dating to 2008.

This one was supposed to be a battle between historic lefthanded pitchers: the Mets' Johan Santana and the Giants' 45-year-old Randy Johnson, with his 298 wins. "It was special to go against him,'' said Santana (5-2, 1.36 ERA), who finally allowed an earned run after 221/3 innings.

For the Mets - who had 16 hits, 11 off Johnson (3-4) in four-plus innings - it was special the way they went after the 6-10 lefthander.

With Carlos Delgado on the disabled list and Jose Reyes still nursing a sore calf, the rest of the Mets finally gave Santana some support. Beltran had three hits and three RBIs. David Wright had three hits and three RBIs. And Sheffield, who was released by the Detroit Tigers on March 31 and joined the Mets on April 3, had three hits.

"Leadership?'' Manuel asked rhetorically after someone tossed in Sheffield's name. "When he does what he did today, when he's the number four hitter and sacrifices himself, that's what you're looking for in leadership.

"I think this is where he's been all his life, handling responsibility. But the thing I have to be careful of - he's kind of in the evening of his career, so to speak - is to give him days off, make sure he's fresh. That's going to be a big key for us.''

Wright has nine RBIs in the series, which ends Sunday. He said he's getting good pitches to hit. That's because of the guy who precedes him in the lineup: Gary Sheffield.

"He's got some huge hits for us,'' said Wright, who has 27 RBIs, one fewer than Beltran. "He provides a presence in the middle of the lineup, provides a presence against lefthanded pitchers - and righthanders, too. One swing of the bat if the pitcher makes a mistake, and he knows the ball is going to leave the yard.''

Through a career that has taken him to Milwaukee, San Diego, Florida, the Los Angeles Dodgers, Atlanta, the Yankees, Detroit and now the Mets, the 40-year-old Sheffield has hit 501 home runs, two in 2009.

"But seeing a number four hitter, a future Hall of Famer, trying to advance a runner,'' Wright said, "makes us understand we should expect that type of play from everybody.''

The Mets, who have scored 24 runs in the series, led 3-0 after one inning. The Giants got an unearned run in the third and two runs, one of those unearned, in the fourth to tie. But 10 men batted for the Mets in a four-run fifth in which they had six hits, including an RBI double by Beltran, a two-run double by Wright and an RBI single by Ramon Castro. Castro had another RBI single in the ninth, and even Santana had a hit.

Said Manuel, "We've gotten everybody involved.''

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http://www.newsday.com/sports/baseball/ny-spmets1712777030may16,0,641613.story
Copyright © 2009, Newsday Inc.

Lakers: Plenty of talent, very little heart

Here are the conceivable excuses available for the Los Angeles Lakers, reputedly a basketball team of championship caliber, if not championship character.

* The game in Houston started at 9 p.m., past the Lakers’ bedtime.

* But 9 p.m. in Houston is only 7 p.m. in Los Angeles, so maybe the Lakers hadn’t awakened from their afternoon naps.

* The Lakers lost concentration because Yao Ming, unable to play, was a spectator, and rarely had been watched by anyone taller than an even 7 feet.

* The Lakers were so amused by the Nike commercial with Kobe and LeBron as Muppets characters, they couldn’t stop laughing until the Rockets were ahead 17-1.

* The Manny Ramirez situation has everyone in the L.A. area so distracted, nobody can think about anything else, Lakers included.

Yes, the Lakers will win Sunday and will take the series and move on to face Denver. But they shouldn’t. Not the way they stood around in Game 6 for the first six minutes.

You can’t call the Lakers gutless. They did rally to get within two points in the third quarter on Thursday night before losing, 95-80.

But you can call them heartless. No team with that much talent, with that much momentum, the Lakers having beaten Houston by 40 points on Tuesday night, should play that badly.

And you can call them clueless.

They were baffled by the Rockets’ Louis Scola, who scored 24 points, many of them on baskets about four inches from the rim. Scola’s from Argentina, so maybe the Lakers were looking for a guy with chaps and a Gaucho hat singing about Eva Peron.

The Lakers and Boston Celtics both have Game Sevens at home. The Celtics, the anti-Lakers, a team that scraps and hustles, earned that seventh game, showing more than enough fight in the loss at Orlando. No Kevin Garnett. Guys in foul trouble, but the Celts kept trying.

The Lakers earned a sneer. The Rockets were not only without Yao but also Tracy McGrady. And they had lost, 118-78, two evenings earlier. They had the right to, as Sinatra sang, roll up into a big ball and die. Instead it was the Lakers who were in a funk.

Phil Jackson, the Lakers coach, has nine NBA titles (six with Michael Jordan), so seemingly he understands not just the technical side of basketball but the psyches of the men who play it. Yet as Houston kept making points and L.A. kept making mistakes, Jackson was no more adept at making corrections than Madonna.

After the game, Jackson said that the Lakers play on the road “concerns me, but what are we going to do about it now? We can’t stew on it.’’

Others can. There’s the issue of pride. Champions – and hasn’t everyone all but conceded the finals will be between the Lakers and Cavaliers? – play like champions. That doesn’t mean necessarily that they’ll win. It does mean necessarily that they don’t embarrass themselves.

Or pro basketball.

You win by 40 points and 48 hours later lose by 15? Just because Jack Nicholson isn’t sitting courtside? Something is wrong.

“You know what, you’ve just got to grind these things out, man,’’ Kobe Bryant told the media after the game. “The key now is to win by any means necessary.’’

Not to question Kobe, who got his 32 points (if on 11 for 27 shooting), but isn’

t that the idea every time a team takes the floor or the field or the ice, to win?

To show up and show some courage. You’ve heard more times than needed that defense is simply hard work. Maybe the shots don’t fall, but there’s no reason you can’t do everything possible to keep the opponent’s from falling. The Lakers early on did nothing of the sort.

Scola was scoring. Aaron Brooks, 26 points, was scoring. Who would you rather have, Kobe and Pau Gasol or Louis Scola and Aaron Brooks?

Houston, the town, had given up. “Pulse faint for Crutch City Rockets,’’ was the headline in Thursday’s Houston Chronicle, a reference to McGrady and Yao. Houston the team had not given up.

Los Angeles the team? We can debate that.

Phil Jackson said he was “looking forward to Sunday’s game.’’

Coaches always talk like that. What happened in the past, even the very recent past, is never discussed openly (although you can bet there were some aggressive conversations in private.)

In a way, the Rockets are also looking forward to Sunday’s game. They never figured to get that far. Not with the Lakers having beaten them four straight in the regular season. Not with the Lakers holding the home-court advantage. Not with Houston losing star players.

“We play differently on our home court,’’ Kobe Bryant insisted.

Is that an explanation? Or an excuse?