RealClearSports.com: Changes at the Top of US Tennis

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

NEW YORK -- It's a sport built on names as much as talent. Tennis is different, except for golf. Most loyalties are with uniforms, no matter who's wearing them. If you're a Yankees fan, you're a Yankees fan whether the guy at short is Phil Rizzuto or Derek Jeter, and that lasts forever.

Tennis players come and go all too quickly. The window closes before you know it. What happened to Andre Agassi? To Pete Sampras? To Jennifer Capriati? To Martina Navratilova?

Careers are short. Players start young and retire young. You lose a step. Or some racquet speed. And coming up quickly from behind is some 19-year-old with great skills who virtually no one's ever heard of, especially if she or he comes from Serbia or Slovania.

To make tennis go in America particularly -- and that's where the television money comes from, where the yearly U.S. Open now underway draws 700,000 people during the two weeks -- tennis needs Americans near the top or at the top, Americans who are known throughout America, if not the world.

Andy Roddick and Venus Williams fit well into that category. They and Venus' younger sister, Serena, were about the only U.S. players who could make a showing in a Grand Slam event, about the only U.S. players who were celebrities as well as athletes.

But in a space of 24 hours, both were chased from the 2009 U.S. Open, Roddick on Saturday night by the man who might someday replace him, John Isner, and Venus on Sunday afternoon by a 26-year-old Belgian who had quit the game for two years to marry and have a baby, Kim Clijsters.

Roddick will be back. You can't be sure of Venus. She is 29, and despite the best intentions, most tennis stars start to slip around 30, especially because their bodies begin to fail.

Venus is having left knee trouble, wearing heavy taping. One of her great assets, the ability to fly around the court, has been restricted.

Serena still is capable. She again is the favorite to repeat last year's victory. Crushed her fourth-round opponent, Daniela Hantuchova, on Sunday at Arthur Ashe Stadium. Straight sets, a little more than an hour. The lady they call the Drama Queen, for all the incidents, was undramatic in a match that lacked any suspense.

So Serena is still here and one hopes will stay. But who's next, who to step in for Venus and eventually, if not now, Roddick?

Maybe Melanie Oudin, the Munchkin from the suburbs of Atlanta, who beat Elena Dementieva and then the glamour lady and former champ, Maria Sharapova.

Maybe John Isner. He had 39 service aces against Roddick, who himself holds the record for all-time fastest serve, 156 mph. Pow, smash, whap.

By all rights, Isner should have been the next Tyler Hansbrough. He's 6-foot-9 and from North Carolina. But he worked on his drop shot, not his jump shot. Then, unlike most tennis stars these days, he went to college, the University of Georgia, where he not only helped win an NCAA team title, he graduated. How about that, Dawg?

And how about the 5-foot-6 Oudin, also from Georgia? That's not a state people think about when it comes to a new Roger Federer or Chris Evert. But that's our problem, not Georgia's.

Oudin was to face yet another Russian, her third in a row, Nadia Petrova, in Monday's fourth round. Melanie doesn't figure to keep winning.

She's too young (17). Too inexperienced. But if she does keep winning, she has a chance to become the star America needs, after Serena and, depending on what happens, replacing Venus. If indeed Venus can be replaced.

An interesting phenomenon Sunday at Ashe Stadium. The crowd was supporting Clijsters more than it was supporting Venus Williams. Was that because Clijsters had been away and the fans were welcoming her return? Or because the Williams sisters, even as heroines, had stayed too long at the fair?

Isner said he had to play the match of his life to beat Roddick, who until the defeat had been playing the best of all the men. But if Isner is to make it to the top, as a player, as a personality, he has to have a lot of repeat performances, especially in Grand Slams. He has to rouse the curiosity of sports fans who don't know a volley from a rally.

Is he prepared and capable? How about Melanie Oudin? So often kids make an impression, and about the time the headlines arrive, they flame and burn out.

Oudin acts humble enough, something that will endear her to the masses, but how long does that last? And how long does she last?

You'd think in a country of 300 million, more than one or two could become a tennis star.

Serena, Venus and Andy were able to do it. Is there anybody else?

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. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www1.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/09/07/changes_at_the_top_of_us_tennis_96474.html
© RealClearSports 2009

CBSSports.com: Venus' age starting to show with latest U.S. Open loss

By Art Spander
The Sports Xchange/CBSSports.com 
 
NEW YORK -- This time it wasn't Venus rising. This time it was Venus Williams, left knee strapped, forehand erratic, serve uncontrolled, losing and making us wonder whether this indeed might be the beginning of the end.

Kim Clijsters, out of tennis for more than two years, knocked Venus, the No. 3 seed, from the 2009 U.S. Open in a fourth-round match Sunday as bizarre as it was perplexing, Clijsters winning 6-0, 0-6, 6-4.

Clijsters, who won the Open in 2005, incurred an injury that kept her from defending in 2006 and then stepped away in 2007, answered the question about whether she still has game.

Venus, on the other hand, left us with more questions. She is 29, the knee is certainly a factor and she is without a victory in a Grand Slam event this year, although she did lose in the Wimbledon final to sister Serena.

It isn't merely the first set that can be used as evidence -- she lost 6-0, 6-4 to Agnes Szavay in the third round of the French this year. It is the cumulative work of the past few months.

Venus has reached that age when, with rare exception, tennis players start to decline. And while it would be foolish to underestimate Williams anytime she's across the net with a racquet, knee problems invariably get worse, not better.

Knee problems or not, Venus joined her sister for a winning doubles match after her singles loss even though their father, Richard, had been saying Venus should take it easy and play only singles.

As usual after a defeat, Venus was tight-lipped, offering platitudes but no explanation as to what happened, especially in the first set when, as they say in tennis, she got bageled.

"I think she played really well," Venus said of Clijsters, "and hit a lot of great shots. I wish her the best of luck. I would have liked to play better to win the match. I would have liked to have capitalized on some more shots."

Asked if she was surprised how well Clijsters, in only her third tournament back, played, Venus said, "Yeah, she played well. She always played well through her career. I'm sure she'll continue to do that."

What will Venus, winner of seven Grand Slam tournaments, do? In the past, she has talked about competing into her 30s, playing in the 2012 Olympics, but who knows?

Venus almost didn't get out of the first round of this Open, needing three sets to beat 47th-ranked Vera Dushevina. "It's going to be a lot of prayer and everything else I can throw into it," Venus said of her knee after that struggle. "But I'm tough."

No one doubts that, but she also is not as mobile as she once was, not able to use her superior athletic ability, which often has compensated for a lack of tennis fundamentals.

With the departure of Venus, the No. 1 (Dinara Safina), 3 (Venus Williams), 4 (Elena Dementieva) and 5 (Jelena Jankovic) seeds have been eliminated from this Open before the quarterfinals. And 26-year-old Clijsters, who quit to marry and have a child, is still in the draw.

"You're not really worried about results," said Clijsters, who is accompanied by her husband Brian Lynch, a basketball player from the U.S., and their daughter, Jared. "You're just trying to fight through the match."

She fought. Venus fought. Then she broke Williams in the third game of the third set, and that was the difference.

The first two sets? "Very weird," Clijsters said. "I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it. I can't speak for [Venus]. On my side, I felt like we never were really playing our best tennis at the same time until the third set.

"In the first set, I really felt like I was dominating a lot of points. I was serving well. I think that's where I kept her under pressure, kept her from what she's good at, stepping into the court, playing aggressive tennis. She also made a lot of mistakes, missed a lot of first serves. ... Then I felt like in the second set, she was kind of doing that to me for a little bit."

Clijsters' comeback began early this year when she accepted a challenge to play an exhibition at Wimbledon with Tim Henman against Steffi Graf and Andre Agassi. She had too much pride to go out and embarrass herself, so she started training as in the old days -- meaning before 2007.

"I've been working hard the last seven, eight months and enjoying it," Clijsters said. "It's something that's really important to me, as long as I can focus on tennis and have fun on the outside as well."

Tears rolled down her cheeks after the win over Venus, but surely they were joyful tears.

Venus smiled during the post-match handshake but understandably was grim in leaving the court, where a boisterous sellout crowd seemed to be supporting Clijsters as much as Venus.

A few hours earlier, Serena, the defending champion, was an easy winner. Serena looks as if she'll be in the finals again this year. But will Venus ever get back?

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http://www.cbssports.com/tennis/story/12167294
© 2009 CBS Interactive. All rights reserved.

CBSSports.com: Oudin, Isner turn in memorable day, bright future for American tennis

By Art Spander
The Sports Xchange/CBSSports.com

NEW YORK -- It was the day that wouldn't end. It was an afternoon that became evening and offered American tennis a future as bright as the moon that eventually rose over Arthur Ashe Stadium.

Youth will be served -- and volleyed and backhanded.

First, Melanie Oudin, the wunderkind, and then John Isner tossed caution to what little wind there was on this historic day at Flushing Meadows and tossed the schedule of the U.S. Open upside down and inside out.

The 17-year-old Oudin, who's becoming adept at this sort of thing, upset Maria Sharapova 3-6, 6-4, 7-5, in 2 hours, 58 minutes on Saturday.

Then the 24-year-old Isner upset No. 5 seed Andy Roddick 7-6 (3), 6-3, 3-6, 5-7, 7-6 (5) in 3 hours, 51 minutes.

They came back-to-back, the matches, nearly seven hours of tension, and for a sellout crowd of more than 24,000, there was such excitement that the spectators didn't want to leave.

Except two more matches, the evening program, were still to be played. And the fans who held tickets for those matches, which wouldn't begin until 10 p.m., not the announced 7 p.m., were waiting to get their seats. They had been watching the big TV screen in the plaza for more than three hours.

What they saw was the 6-foot-9 Isner smashing 39 aces and keep Roddick, who has the record for the fastest serve ever, 156 mph, off balance and out of sorts.

This after Oudin, who for comparison's sake is more than a foot shorter than Isner -- she's listed at 5-foot-6 -- kept coming at Sharapova with the aggression of a UFC fighter.

Two days earlier, Oudin had knocked off the No. 4 seed, Elena Dementieva, a Russian. Then she discombobulated Sharapova, the 2007 champ, the No. 29 seed, a Russian. Maria had 21 double faults. Next, in the fourth round Oudin will play Nadia Petrova, a Russian.

It sounds like Napoleon's campaign against the Czars in the 19th Century.

"I had every emotion possible," said Oudin. "I mean, I was crying. I was so happy and excited. I'm pretty sure I screamed after that last shot."

Which was a cross-court winner.

Isner's last shot was, of course, a monster serve in the fifth-set tiebreaker. Roddick hit it out.

"I had to play the match of my life to beat him," said Isner, referring to Roddick, who won this tournament in 2003 and two months ago took Roger Federer to a fifth set at Wimbledon, where there are no fifth-set tiebreakers, and lost 16-14.

"On this stage, this setting, I proved I can play with anybody."

We're only maybe eight miles from Broadway, 42nd Street, the Great White Way. You know the cliche, "You're going out there a kid, but you're coming back a star." Oudin and Isner have filled that role.

She's from Marietta, Ga., a suburb of Atlanta, home-schooled so she could become the champion Melanie seems destined to be. He's from North Carolina but was a star at the University of Georgia. Must be something in the water down there.

Tobacco Road? How about Topspin Highway?

"There's a lot out of your hands, the way he plays," Roddick said of Isner, whom he had beaten twice in two previous matches, including a few weeks ago in the semifinal of the Washington, D.C., tournament.

"You can't teach 6-9," Roddick said of the angle and power of Isner's serve. "Sometimes you try to fight it off. But it's not like the majority of matches we play, where if you play well you win. He doesn't allow you to get into the match."

Isner contracted mononucleosis in the late spring and couldn't enter either the French Open or Wimbledon.

"I remember how ticked off I was at home," said Isner, "but it may have been a blessing in disguise. I took a month off, then started working hard and smart."

Oudin, who has "BELIEVE" embossed on the ankle of her multicolored tennis shoes, also credits her practice routines for success.

If you recall, after Melanie stunned Jelena Jankovic at Wimbledon, Jankovic contended Oudin didn't have "the weapons," primarily a serve. What would anyone expect from a Munchkin? But she has staying power and courage.

"I think my biggest weapon can be mental toughness," said Oudin. "I developed it. I wasn't born with it."

Someone wondered if she'd been labeled a giant killer, although to her every opponent is rather enormous. "Yeah," she said, "a couple of people have called me that."

What you could have called Saturday's play in the Open was confused. The afternoon matches went so long and so deep into the evening that the women's competition between top seed Dinara Safina and Petra Kvitova was shifted from Ashe Court to Armstrong Court so the James Blake-Tommy Robredo match wouldn't be starting around midnight.

That's one of the unpredictable parts of tennis. You never know how long a match might run. The ones involving Oudin and Isner seemed to run forever, but they didn't mind. Neither did the fans on this wonderful long day's journey into night.

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http://www.cbssports.com/tennis/story/12162826
© 2009 CBS Interactive. All rights reserved.

CBSSports.com: For Serena, a win isn't a win without dramatics

By Art Spander
The Sports Xchange/CBSSports.com

NEW YORK -- The threats went unfulfilled. There was no brawl. There were no angry words. Serena Williams did get irritated, but only with herself.

"Because," she explained, "I wasn't very happy with my performance."

As compared to the previous time when she wasn't very happy with Maria Jose Martinez Sanchez, accusing her of cheating when they faced each other the end of May in the French Open.

That's when Serena growled at Martinez Sanchez across the net, "I'm going to get you in the locker room for that."

That day Serena whipped Martinez Sanchez, on the clay court, not off it, winning in three sets. On Friday, an ocean away, Williams shook herself out of lethargy and won 6-3, 7-5 in the third round of the U.S. Open.

This one closed with a handshake, followed later by a denial from Martinez Sanchez she even heard Serena's boast three months earlier in Paris.

In the first set that day, Serena ripped a ball that virtually everybody contended hit Martinez Sanchez, meaning Williams would have won the point. But after the ball plopped back in front of Serena, Martinez Sanchez said it hit her racquet, not her body.

Serena then complained to the chair umpire, who attempted to avoid any decision.

"I said, 'Did you ask her?'" Serena said that afternoon. "He said, 'Well, she's saying it didn't happen.' I looked her dead in the eye. 'Why? Just be honest, if the ball hit you or not.' I mean, hello, it totally hit her.

"She just looked down, and I just have no respect for anybody who can't play a professional game and be just be really professional out here."

Then, having lost the argument and shortly later the set in a match she would take 4-6, 6-3, 6-4, Serena told the umpire, "She better not come to the net again."

Strong words? "Well," Williams answered, "I am from Compton, you do know ..."

We do, although Serena now is based in Florida with older sister Venus. Martinez Sanchez, 27, is from Spain.

Asked if there were a repercussion from the French incident, if that's the proper description, Martinez Sanchez said, "No. I never think about it."

You can be certain Serena hasn't stopped thinking about it. When confronted Thursday after a doubles match, she said, "The ball hit her."

On Friday, wearing a post-match T-shirt upon which was printed, "You Can't Spell Dynasty Without Nasty," Williams was less direct.

When asked if she lost respect for players whom she considered cheaters, Serena was more politician than critic. "I can only speak for me," she said. "I try to be very professional, extremely professional in my job. That's what I'm here to do, and win, I hope."

Read between the lines, or specifically interpret between the quotes. At the French, Serena sneered at Martinez Sanchez's refusal to admit guilt. "I would never do that," Williams said. "I've never done that. I've never sunk so low ... because that's all I've ever been was extremely professional to anyone I've ever played."

Implying, what, Martinez Sanchez was not? "She's a tough player," was the Williams observation on Friday. "I was just trying to go out there and do my best. And I knew I had to be serious today."

Serena's the Drama Queen. With her it's usually something. In 2003 at the French, it was the "C" word again, cheating, when eventual champion Justine Henin raised her hand while Williams was serving and later denied it. At the 2004 U.S. Open. Serena got some awful line calls while losing to Jennifer Capriati. That led to acceptance of the Hawk-Eye electronic replay system.

On Friday, Serena, defending champion in the Open, offered some histrionics when she was down 3-1 in the second set.

"I got nasty today, but to myself," was the way Serena framed it. "I was screaming to myself because I wasn't very happy with my performance ... I have my own mental issues, and everyone has to battle themselves sometimes."

Serena's autobiography, On the Line, reached bookstores a few days ago. She discusses her insecurities, the depression after sister Yetunde Price was murdered and her dealing with a muscular body she finally has come to accept and appreciate.

When someone wondered about early reviews, Serena reminded, "I've been playing this [tournament], so I've been working. I haven't had the chance to see the reviews yet. I've been doing the job that I've been doing."

Which Friday included a victory in which she got mad at herself, not the opponent.

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http://www.cbssports.com/tennis/story/12158741
© 2009 CBS Interactive. All rights reserved.

RealClearSports.com: Arnie: Long Live the King

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

He went after a course the way Muhammad Ali went after an opponent. Arnold Palmer didn't "play'' golf, he worked golf, attacked golf. He was fearless but not flawless. He was human.

He was The King. He'll always be The King.

A great nickname, a descriptive nickname, bestowed on so very few, upon Richard Petty, upon a long-ago San Francisco 49er running back, Hugh McElhenny; upon Elvis Presley, of course; and upon Arnold Daniel Palmer.

You didn't have to like golf to like Arnie, but if you did like golf it was so much the better. The man made the game what it is, a multi-billion-dollar operation, show business with bogeys, a television show that runs from one end of the calendar to the other.

Arnie reaches 80 next week -- strokes, not years. America will celebrate. The world will celebrate. He's the hero who stayed humble. As Curtis Strange, a great golfer himself, was to observe, "Arnold Palmer makes everybody feel like he's their best friend.''

Tiger Woods may be in control of the Tour these days, but he's merely leasing it. Arnie always will be the owner.

Ben Hogan was the grinder. "It's in the dirt,'' he told those who wanted to be champions, implying one had to hit shot after shot in practice. Sam Snead was the graceful one, the "Sweet Swinger.'' Jack Nicklaus, who followed Arnie, was the perfectionist, the pragmatist.

One year at Pebble Beach, the tournament now called the AT&T Pro-Am but then called the Bing Crosby, Jack hit his tee shot on the famous par-five 18 into Carmel Bay. The next year, leading, Nicklaus teed off with an iron, not a wood. The late, great sports columnist Jim Murray, almost insulted, wrote, "Arnold Palmer wouldn't use an iron to press his pants.''

Arnie never played it safe. If there's a lot of Nicklaus in Tiger Woods, there's a great deal of Palmer in Phil Mickelson. They want to do it their way, the challenging way, the exciting way.

Arnie tried to make a two on every hole. He spent three rounds attempting to drive the short par-4 first hole at Cherry Hills in Denver in the 1960 U.S. Open, failing each time. But the fourth time he succeeded, made birdie and won his only Open.

He lost in a playoff to Nicklaus in 1962 at Oakmont. It was my wedding day. The ceremony was delayed until the final putt, which produced Jack's first pro win. Arnie sensed what was about to happen. "Now that the big kid's out of the cage,'' Palmer said about the 22-year-old Nicklaus, "look out.''

Arnie was beaten the next year, 1963, in another playoff, at The Country Club. And then came the most aggravating, and the most symbolic, at San Francisco's Olympic Club in 1966.

I was a rookie golf writer for the San Francisco Chronicle and properly awed by Palmer. He had a 7-shot lead over playing partner Billy Casper with nine holes to play, a 6-shot lead with six holes to play. But Arnie was chasing the Open record, and the next thing we knew he had to make a 4-footer on the 72 hole just to tie Casper, who won the playoff the next day.

More than 40 years I've watched and interviewed and followed Arnie as he grimaced after missing yet another putt, as he wandered over to the edge of the fairway and smiled at every woman in the gallery, as he reached out to tap a child on the head and then willingly signed an autograph for everyone who asked.

Arnie loved golf. We loved Arnie. The course was his stage, his existence.

Nicklaus was never more than a golfer, if a brilliant one. Arnie was an actor. Jack couldn't stay when he no longer was competitive. Arnie maybe stayed too long. Or did he?

Three years ago, Arnie, struggling, announced it was time to stop playing competitively.

"I've been doing this for a long time,'' he said, "and first of all, to stand out there and not be able to make something happen is very traumatic in my mind. The people want to see a good shot, and you know it and you can't give it to them. That's when it's time.''

He left competitive golf, and we were left only with visions of the way it used to be.

There he stands, the young man out of the west Pennsylvania coal country, with the blacksmith arms and the blue-collar background. Arnold Palmer is young again. And so are we.

Long live The King.

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. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www1.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/09/03/arnie_long_live_the_king_96473.html
© RealClearSports 2009

CBSSports.com: Diminutive Oudin making noise as next great American hope

By Art Spander
The Sports Xchange/CBSSports.com

NEW YORK -- She's a sporting cliche, the All-American girl, small but daring, confident but humble. She's an Irving Berlin song, a Norman Rockwell painting. Most of all, Melanie Oudin is the hope that the United States will have a part in the future of women's tennis.

Two months ago, Oudin stunned the world's No. 6 player, Jelena Jankovic, in the third round at Wimbledon, drawing attention and more than a few disparaging remarks from a skeptical Jankovic, who contended sourly of Oudin, "She doesn't have any weapons."

Whatever she has, courage, desire, the quickest feet this side of Usain Bolt -- all right, that's an exaggeration -- the 17-year-old Oudin used it to upset Elena Dementieva, 5-7, 6-4, 6-3, Thursday in the second round of the U.S. Open.

And Dementieva, No. 4 in the rankings and in the seeds, the 2008 Beijing Olympic champion, was gracious, as opposed to being bitter.

"I think," Dementieva said about Oudin, "is very talented. She is not afraid to play. She was very positive, going for shots, for winners. This is just the beginning."

America can only wish. In women's tennis of late, there's been Serena Williams and sister Venus Williams and, well, the days of Lindsay Davenport and Jennifer Capriati seem about as far away as the Andromeda galaxy.

For years we've been wondering who's next, if anybody's next, since virtually every top young female player is from Russia or Serbia. It's too early yet to say, "Stop wondering," because even if Oudin is the third-best player from the United States, she's only the 70th best player in the world.

Or was before Thursday, when she picked up a lot of points in addition to picking up the spirits of people in the U.S. Tennis Association.

Oudin, from Marietta, Ga., the suburbs of Atlanta, is a mere 5-foot-6, but as the saying goes, the tennis ball doesn't know or care how big you are.

She's a hustler, in the positive sense of the word. If she were a baseball player, she'd always be taking the extra base, ramming into the catcher on close plays at the plate.

"I had to win the match," Oudin said. "[Dementieva] didn't give it to me. I played with no fear. She's expected to win. I went out and played my game."

Which is one of attacking. None of this wussy, tentative stuff. At 5-foot-11, Dementieva is half a head taller than Oudin. Yet Oudin didn't play defensively.

Asked whether she lost the match, Dementieva responded, "No, she won it."

And Oudin won the hearts of the home-country fans at her first appearance in the big house, 24,000-seat Arthur Ashe Stadium. First appearance as a player. Oudin had been there before, but only watching. Now she's the one being watched.

With "Believe" stamped on the outside ankle of both shoes, a suggestion of boyfriend Austin Smith, Oudin was making believers of a great many.

She did have physical problems with an aching iliotibial (IT) band on the outside of her left leg, bringing tears and a trainer who applied treatment and then a heavy wrap. But Oudin kept going.

"I had strained my IT band a little bit," she said, "and it had been getting better. I think today, kind of with everything going on, first time on Ashe, I was beating No. 4 in the world, about to beat her -- I think it just started cramping a little bit ... but I'll be fine for the next match."

Oudin said she's idolized Serena and Venus since Oudin was 7 or 8. Another she looks up to, well down to, is 5-foot-5 Justine Henin, who retired a year ago after reaching the top of the rankings.

"She proved you don't have to be 6-foot something," Oudin said of Henin, "to be No. 1 in the world."

That's a place Oudin has talked of going. It doesn't hurt to have a dream. Especially when you're a teenager. Oudin has a fraternal twin, Katherine, who, although a tennis player of sorts, is "totally opposite; she's going to college, wants to be an obstetrician."

Melanie was home-schooled, which is the way of Americans, girls or boys, who want to be a factor in tennis. The Europeans turn pro young, so if you don't want to fall behind, you've got to learn geometry by finding angles for the forehand.

"I think it's cool to be called the third-best American behind the Williams sisters," Oudin said.

Mary Joe Fernandez, the TV commentator and U.S. Fed Cup captain, sent Oudin out in a match in February and was delighted.

"She knows how to win," Fernandez said. "Once she gets hold of a point, she pretty much knows what to do."

And that's never let it go. As Jankovic and Dementieva have learned.

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http://www.cbssports.com/tennis/story/12153974
© 2009 CBS Interactive. All rights reserved.

CBSSports.com: Gasquet falls to Nadal, happy to be back from suspension

By Art Spander
The Sports Xchange/CBSSports.com

NEW YORK -- One had been in suspended animation, unable to play because of an injury. The other had been merely suspended, banned from tennis because he failed a drug test.

Tennis wasn't the only focus Wednesday as Rafael Nadal, who didn't play from early June to August because of sore knees, defeated Richard Gasquet, coming off his suspension, in straight sets.

The Gasquet case is a strange one. An independent anti-doping tribunal concluded that Gasquet had ingested 1.46 micrograms of cocaine, "no more than a grain of salt," by kissing a woman he had just met in a Miami night club in March.

A bit preposterous, perhaps, but it saved Gasquet's unfulfilled career.

His two-year suspension, imposed in May, was reduced to 2½ months, and so Wednesday, there was Gasquet in his element and a short while later out of the U.S. Open. But like one of Liz Taylor's marriages, it was nice while it lasted.

Lacking preparation and facing a man he had never beaten in six previous attempts, Gasquet was beaten 6-2, 6-2, 6-3 by Nadal.

"I don't have any pain," said a happy Nadal, who because of his absence slipped from second to third in the rankings. For a while in 2008, he had been No. 1.

If Gasquet has pain, it is mental.

"It was impossible for me," Gasquet said. "If at the beginning of the year some will [ask whether] you will win four Grand Slams or you will be tested for cocaine, for sure I will tell them I will win four Grand Slams."

Gasquet said he even stopped working on his game during his time off. "Try practicing," he said quietly. "If you have this kind of thing, you won't."

That made Wednesday's result entirely predictable. The judgments against him and later in favor of him definitely were not.

Gasquet tested positive in a urine sample in March after withdrawing from the Sony Ericsson Open at Key Biscayne, Fla., because of a shoulder injury.

Unable to play, the 23-year-old Frenchman went with friends to a club in Miami to see a French DJ perform at a dance music festival. The tribunal pointed out that the club "was notoriously associated with use of illegal recreational drugs, including cocaine."

Gasquet told the tribunal hearing, held in London in June, that he kissed a woman known only as Pamela, and the tribunal determined it was likely she had consumed cocaine that night, although there was no direct evidence.

Also, the tribunal wrote this in its report: "We have found the player to be a person who is shy and reserved, honest and truthful, and a man of integrity and good character."

The guy went to a place notoriously associated with drug use, met a woman, started kissing her and then was judged shy and reserved?

Is it actually possible to ingest cocaine by kissing someone? One official with the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency said it was "highly unlikely." He did not say impossible.

As did Gasquet when asked what it was like when he was told of the suspension by the International Tennis Association. He also used "incredible."

The tribunal, apparently watching too many Alfred Hitchcock movies, said Gasquet was "on the balance of probability, contaminated with cocaine by Pamela" and therefore not significantly at fault for the doping offense.

"We take into account that the amount of cocaine in the player's body was so small that if he had been tested only a few hours later, his test result would be likely to have been negative," the tribunal ruled.

Wait until all those accused steroid users -- Barry Bonds, Jose Canseco, Rafael Palmeiro -- find out about that.

Gasquet also argued at the hearing that his positive test came after he withdrew from Key Biscayne. Cocaine is a banned drug for athletes in competition. Of course, five-time Grand Slam winner Martina Hingis tested positive for cocaine after losing at Wimbledon and was suspended until Sept. 30, her 29th birthday.

She's finished. Gasquet is not. "I'm a tennis player," he contended. "That's my life -- to be on tour."

A Wimbledon semifinalist in 2007, crushing Andy Roddick in the quarterfinals and then, of course, losing to Roger Federer in the semis, Gasquet has a wicked one-handed backhand, rare in modern tennis if not unique.

With only one event since April, he was overmatched against Nadal on Wednesday, explaining, "It's hard to play well, to be fit, to be ready, especially when you have to play against a guy like Nadal."

The discussion of suspension and absence continued until a U.S. Tennis Association official ordered, "Only questions about the tennis."

What questions? Gasquet was down 3-0 like that, lost the first set in 35 minutes and lost the match in 1 hour, 41 minutes.

The ITF and World Anti-Doping Association want his penalty reinstated. Despite the specious evidence in his favor, that's doubtful.

"In my mind, I'm happy," Gasquet said. "I can play on center court. I saw the last two Grand Slams [French Open and Wimbledon] on TV. Even though I lost here, I'm happy to get to play."

You might say he hasn't kissed off the season.

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http://www.cbssports.com/tennis/story/12148571
© 2009 CBS Interactive. All rights reserved.

SF Examiner: Things going right for Giants as they aim for playoffs

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

SAN FRANCISCO — They blow one in 14 innings, they lose one 11-0, they are frustrating. They make too many errors, they don’t get enough hits and they may get into the playoffs.

Randy Johnson might have another start, Eugenio Velez lacks baseball instincts, Aaron Rowand has done less than expected and they may get into the playoffs.

It’s a year too early for the Giants. It’s five years too late. This is next season’s team. It’s also for the moment, a team that is doing it with pitching and mirrors, heart and hustle. A team that for the first time in a long while has made September baseball relevant.

Brad Penny joins the ranks. The Red Sox didn’t want him. The hated Dodgers didn’t want him before that. But now the Giants want him. Maybe he has a month of fastballs left. Maybe he can be the difference, and if he isn’t, it was worth the try.

Something has gone right at AT&T Park. For all the criticism of Brian Sabean, for all the knocks on Bruce Bochy, for all the agony caused by Edgar Rentaria — who, naturally, beats the Rockies with a slam in Sunday’s version of the biggest game of the year — something has gone right.

Baseball’s a strange sport, not so much a team game as a linking of individual performances. There are no passes to an open man, no trap blocking. Each man does his thing, but if he does it correctly and if there’s harmony in a clubhouse, baseball becomes a collective group effort. That’s what the Giants are giving.

They aren’t as good as the Dodgers, not as good as the Cardinals, probably not as good as the Phillies, but the Giants are better than they were supposed to be. That’s no small virtue after the losing seasons, after finishing 18 games below .500 in 2008. They won 72 games last year. Total.

They had won 72 games this year before the end of August. Progress, more progress than a Giants fan, or Bill Neukom or Larry Baer could have dreamed.

Out of the shadows, into the sunlight, into the pennant race. To borrow a Duane Kuiper quote used frequently of late: “unbelievable.”

In April, before the first pitch, Baer was touting the garlic fries’ green booth at the park, in effect selling the clean sizzle rather than the spuds, trying to persuade us there were reasons to buy tickets other than to suffer with the ball club.

Now that’s small potatoes. Now it’s the ball that counts. Being there, that’s the whole idea, being there when the final month arrives and every pitch is a reason to gasp or grimace, a reason to hope or agonize.

“Here we are approaching September,” Bochy said last weekend, “and we’re playing some very important games.” Now September has arrived, and because of the unforeseen sweep of Colorado, the games are no less important, no less suspenseful.

Tim Lincecum and Matt Cain are on the cover of Sports Illustrated, if only the upper corner. The country has been alerted. Baseball again matters by the Golden Gate.

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-Things-going-right-for-Giants-as-they-aim-for-playoffs-56685642.html
Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company

RealClearSports: They're Having a Ball in New York

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

NEW YORK -- Last week it was Tiger. This week it's Serena, Venus and Roger. It's always Alex. This is the place where the ball's always bouncing, along fairways, on hard courts, down the third base line.

This is place where the fans don't miss a thing, especially if Andy Roddick misses a forehand or Jerry Hairston misses a grounder.

This the place where the headlines call teams the Bombers or the Amazin's, the Jints or Gang Green. This is the place where you can buy a fake Rolex on the street or buy the real Brooklyn Bridge in a tourist trap.

Everything goes in New York. Anything goes in New York.

The front page in the Daily News was more of a declaration: "When Khadafy comes to New York this month, we should throw him straight into prison.'' The back page head, over a picture of Hairston fumbling the grounder that ended Andy Pettitte's perfect game, was "BAD HAIR DAY."

Baseball matters here. Fifteen years ago, 1994, the sport had gone into suspended animation. The players called a strike in August, the owners cancelled the World Series in September. We were told symbolically, if not directly, that everything we believed in was a mirage.

If they could wipe out the Series after 90-something years, then why care?

But the game survived, even flourished. We're told the McGwire-Sosa home run chase of '98 was what brought back the fans, re-established the interest, and while that's not untrue, New York also played its part.

This is where the Babe and the Iron Horse played. Where Jackie Robinson joined the majors. Where the term "Subway Series'' became part of the lexicon.

New York, with its ethnic diversity, where the kids grew up playing stickball, always was baseball country. Still is. If not at the expense of any other sport.

The Barclays golf tournament was played last weekend across New York Harbor, with the State of Liberty visible from the course. The big guns --  Tiger Woods, Phil Mickelson, Padraig Harrington -- showed up, although Heath Slocum won.

Twenty-four hours later, across the bay, a U.S. Open began. The second one in the region in two and half months. That one was the golf Open, out on Long Island. This is the tennis Open, a rollicking two weeks of day and night competition.

Sellout after sellout, matches that begin at 11 a.m., matches -- such as Andy Roddick's win over Bjorn Phau, Monday night to Tuesday morning -- that end at 12:45 a.m. New Yorkers love it. If not quite as much as they love their baseball.

Roger Federer and Serena Williams, the defending champions, opened the Open on Monday afternoon, but the tabloids went with the Yankees, who were down in Baltimore.

"CLOSE BUT NO PERFECTO!'' said the Post on its back page ‘"Awesome Andy,'' proclaimed Newsday, alluding to Pettitte's performance. And, course, the Daily News went after Hairston, who made the error that for a time will exist in infamy.

The Yanks, the Bronx Bombers, own this region during spring and summer. If it's not Alex Rodriguez who's being featured, it's Derek Jeter. The Mets, the Other Team, attract attention only for their foibles, and there have been plenty.

Omar Minaya is the Mets' general manager, and now he's been trashed as much for his failure to make a point clearly in interviews as for the failure of his team.

Minaya's language didn't matter when the Mets were winning, wrote Bob Raissman in the News, but now he must communicate how to correct the problems and he is incapable. A bit unfair, but this is New York, where imperfection of any sort is almost sinful.

Whether you're allowing a ground ball to dribble under your glove or fumbling syntax before a microphone.

In New York, virtually or actually, there's no place to hide. From the Battery to the Bronx, the Hudson River to Queens, you're always in somebody's headlights. Or, as Roddick was in the wee small hours, somebody's stadium lights.

The other night, Venus Williams was down 5-4 in the second set against Vera Dushevina after having lost the first set and was serving to stay in the match. The crowd was roaring.

"One of those great New York moments,'' said Venus, who went on to a three-set victory.

One of those New York moments of which a full explanation might be available from A-Rod or Omar Minaya, if with opposing viewpoints.

"It must be love'' is the promotional double-entendre slogan of the Open. Love or hate, with the attention, it must be New York, where you can hit a forehand, a home run and the jackpot at any time.

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. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www1.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/09/01/theyre_having_a_ball_in_new_york_96468.html
© RealClearSports 2009

CBSSports.com: New York version of Grand Slam all about fun, entertainment

By Art Spander
The Sports Xchange/CBSSports.com

NEW YORK -- They've made it here. It doesn't matter if they can make it anywhere else.

The United States Tennis Association found the formula to mine gold, to make history, to have a tournament that's an event, noisy, boisterous and, as Andy Roddick verified at 12:45 a.m. ET Tuesday, virtually never-ending.

Truly, there's nothing like it. Other than the corner of 42nd and Broadway. Or 57th and Lexington. Or other intersections in Manhattan.

Wimbledon is quiet lawns and British reserve. The French Open, Roland Garros, is clay courts and long rallies. The U.S. Open is a crowded, rollicking 14 days of celebrity watching, T-shirt selling, latte sipping, beer guzzling, pastrami chewing and great shot-making.

Night and day it goes. Day and night. Seemingly no sooner had Roddick departed in the wee hours than Julia Goerges and 2004 women's singles champion Svetlana Kuznetsova were arriving for their 11 a.m. start. Less than an hour and a half later, Kuznetsova was a 6-3, 6-2 winner.

On to Arthur Ashe Court came the No. 1 women's seed, Dinara Safina, and an Australian named Olivia Rogowska, ranked 167th in the world. And on to the grounds of the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center came thousands of fans, great gobs of them standing in the bright sunshine outside the stadium, in front of the fountain and watching on the big TV screen as Rogowska took a 3-0 lead in the third set.

Screams and gasps. How could this be happening, the top seed getting beat in the first round? By the time anyone else figured it out, Safina had figured it out, slipping by Rogowska, 6-7, 6-2, 6-4.

"I try to do something good," said Safina, the Russian, who, despite never having won a Grand Slam event is atop the women's rankings, "but when it doesn't go good, then I go like too much into myself, what I'm doing right, wrong, instead of thinking what I have to do with the ball."

Which, of course, is hit it over the net to places where Rogowska can't hit back over the net.

Then, echoing Scarlet O'Hara in Gone With the Wind, Safina mused that she had made it to the next round "and tomorrow is another day."

Sometimes at the Open, it's difficult to separate yesterday, today and tomorrow. You know the line, about waking up in the city that never sleeps. What about not going to bed at all?

For years they've been writing songs about late hours in New York, "... When a Broadway baby says good night it's early in the morning ..." It's hard to say if the milkman was on his way when Roddick said good night -- do they still have people who deliver milk? -- but presumably some people were on their way to work.

There were some opening-night ceremonies with famous types, including the former basketball player David Robinson, and by the time Venus Williams and Vera Dushevina began, it was almost 8 o'clock.

When they finished, Venus staggering through in three sets, it was almost 11. And Roddick and his opponent, Bjorn Phau, still were waiting.

"The later the better," Roddick would say. "You know what it is. It's just something that's always been there in New York. It's tough sometimes. It's all part of it, kind of the crazies who stay 'til 1 in the morning. There's something fun about that."

Fun is an appropriate word for the Open. And lunacy. Tennis often is thought as a dispassionate activity for the elite. But here they've turned it into around-the-clock entertainment.

James Blake has a cheering section, the "J Block." Sam Querrey, the kid from Southern California who Tuesday beat Michael Yani, is shouted on by his "Samurai."

The famous Carnegie Deli has a booth here, and the lineup for one of those monster corned beef sandwiches is almost as long as it is to get on to Court 13, where Tuesday the lineup included Fernando Verdasco, the No. 10 seed, who defeated B. Becker -- Benjamin, not Boris.

Ralph Lauren Polo is the official clothing outfitter for the Open, but Nike and LaCoste, which Roddick wears, are well represented. If unofficially.

Nike is not allowed to use the phrase U.S. Open on its attire, so the stuff has subtle references such as "New York 2009." A T-shirt with those words costs $22, while a Nike model with "RF" (for Roger Federer) runs $40.

The New York Post had its fashion reporter, one Anahita Moussavian, critique the clothing and jewelry on display by the competitors. The observations were hardly positive.

Moussavian called Serena Williams' choice of basic black for night matches "misguided" and described Roddick's shirts and shorts as "a double fault ... it's boring."

She's entitled to her opinion, but if there's any description that never should be applied to the U.S. Open, it's "boring." On the contrary. For two weeks, the Open might be the most exciting place in the country.

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http://www.cbssports.com/tennis/story/12143436
© 2009 CBS Interactive. All rights reserved.

CBSSports.com: Young Britton in awe facing great Federer in first round

By Art Spander
The Sports Xchange/CBSSports.com

NEW YORK -- You've had those dreams. You blow a fastball past Albert Pujols. You do a double-pump to leave Kobe Bryant hanging in the air, helpless. You whip a backhand past Roger Federer and are up 3-1 in the second set.

And then you wake up. Or as happened Monday to a kid named Devin Britton, in a surrealistic opening-round match of the 2009 U.S. Open, Roger Federer wakes up. So much for dreaming.

"I was thinking," said Britton, "I'm up a break. This is awesome. Then it only lasted about 30 seconds."

Then Federer won the next six games as the No. 1 player should against an 18-year-old who is ranked No. 1,370 in the world. Federer defeated Britton, 6-1, 6-3, 7-5.

The match was a mismatch. And yet it wasn't.

Britton, 18, won the NCAA singles title last May during the one semester he spent in college, at Mississippi. Invited to the Open as a wild card, he had what could be considered either the good fortune or the misfortune to be put in the draw against Federer, who has won the championship the previous five years.

When told Thursday he had drawn the great Federer, who has a record 15 Grand Slam titles, Britton at first thought it was a joke. Any laughter was muted.

Britton, as all of us, had seen Federer on television. "He looked unbelievable," Britton said of watching from afar.

Then after a pause, the kid added, "But when you play him, he's even more tough."

A day earlier, Britton had practiced with Rafael Nadal, who was ranked No. 1 before being unable to play in June and July because of bad knees. Nothing grandiose bounced around Britton's mind, but after hitting against Nadal, maybe, Britton hoped, he could pull off a shot here or there against Federer.

In a way, he failed. In a way, he succeeded.

"My goal," Britton said candidly, "was not to get crushed."

He didn't. Or did he? Federer won the first set in 18 minutes, which is less time than it takes the 7 train to go from the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center at Flushing Meadows back to Manhattan.

"It was hard not to think about who I was playing," Britton conceded. "He plays such a pretty game. It's fun to watch. I didn't start thinking about my own game until late in the second set."

Britton did break Federer once in each of the last two sets, an indication that either Britton has a future or Federer has a heart, not that Roger is going to ease up in his quest for another championship.

"Try to win again," Federer answered when someone asked about his motivation now that he already has been described as the best in history. "I like being the winner of any tournament in the world. That's why, when I enter, I try to win."

If the words sound more than vaguely familiar, echoing those of Tiger Woods, that would be understandable. Federer and Tiger both are served by the same agency, IMG, and both often express admiration for the other.

On this afternoon, any admiration expressed was by Britton, who first signed a professional contract in June at Wimbledon, where he reached the semifinals. Of the junior championships.

And suddenly there he was Monday, standing dumbstruck across from the elegant Swiss with "RF" on his jacket and tennis in his wake.

"It was pretty scary," said Britton, who at least has a sense of humor -- or of reality. "I was pretty scared."

Fear, excitement, it's a wonder Britton made it through three sets, remarkable he broke Federer in two of the three sets.

"The extended changeovers, I had time to think about it," Britton said of the one-minute breaks. "It was pretty much all I was thinking about. You know, this is pretty cool. I was sitting here on [Arthur] Ashe Court and playing Federer. This is awesome."

Also instructional. Britton said he realized he would need to get stronger, would need to develop a bigger serve, would need to improve his forehand -- although he also knows there is no duplicating the famous Federer forehand.

"I think he serves unbelievably well," Britton said of Federer. "I don't think a lot of people realize how big he serves."

The forehand, the one that is able to place a ball virtually anywhere at any time? Like someone poking his hand into the lion cage at the zoo, Britton masochistically wanted to see how much he could poke around without getting eaten.

"His forehand is just crazy," said Britton, bringing laughter to the media group. "I tried to keep it away, but sometimes I just hit [the ball] there just to see it."

What Federer wants to see is a few more trophies. He finally won the French in June, then took Wimbledon for the sixth time. A sixth consecutive U.S. championship would equal the mark of the late Bill Tilden in 1920-25.

"I've beaten the all-time Grand Slam record," Federer said. "That's not what tennis is all about. I don't think if you ask the other players, their goal is to win 16 Slams now. ... You can have different types of goals. Mine are at a very high level. That's just the difference."

As Devin Britton, his newest victim and latest fan, understands quite well.

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http://www.cbssports.com/tennis/story/12138434
© 2009 CBS Interactive. All rights reserved.

Raiders coach: 'I did a bad job'

OAKLAND -- This was the third preseason game, the one teams play to prove they are ready. After watching what happened to the Oakland Raiders on Saturday, one must wonder: ready for what?

All the Raiders’ failings, real or presumed, were on display at Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum, the inability to stop the other team -- in this case, the New Orleans Saints -- the inability to do anything on offense (although when you don’t have the ball, that’s understood) and the continuing agony of repetitive penalties.

The final score, if incidental, was New Orleans 45, Oakland 7.

That after the Saints led 31- 0 in the first half.

After the Saints outgained the Raiders 344 yards to 60 in the first half.

After the Raiders had only 1 yard net rushing in the first half.

“This was embarrassing,’’ agreed Raiders coach Tom Cable.  “We’re all in it together. I did a bad job.’’

It was the belief of the great John Madden, who coached the Raiders before he became an icon, given a one-sided exhibition game it was better to be on the losing end so the team might pay attention to the advice and warnings that the staff would issue.

This was as one-sided as they come, but when a team has had six consecutive losing seasons, as have the Raiders, it may be difficult to find any comfort in the Madden theory.

In truth this one, played before a crowd announced as 32,585 and in a temperature that was above 100 degrees on the field, had virtually no redeeming social or athletic importance for Oakland and was terribly discomforting.

The Raiders were helpless on defense and offense.

The only time the Saints didn’t go anywhere was when they were in already the end zone.

The Saints were on offense 39 minutes 27 seconds, basically two-thirds of the game.

The Saints gained 536 yards -- 304 passing, 232 rushing -- vs. the Raiders’ 289 yards.

No, the game doesn’t count when the NFL schedule begins in two weeks, but it certainly counts emotionally for a franchise wandering in the mire since that Super Bowl year of 2002.

Now, as always, the Raiders, management that is, are calling themselves the Team of the Decades. But the last few seasons, they look more like the Team of Disaster. This game did nothing to dispel the idea.

Cable became head coach early last season when Raiders owner Al Davis dispensed with Lane Kiffin, and if nothing else it appeared Cable, a gruff, physical  sort, had the players mentally sharp.

But Saturday they collapsed, and Cable didn’t have a legitimate explanation.

“Obviously,’’ he said, “it was not a very good effort. We couldn’t get off the field on defense. And our offense was hurt by sacks and fumbles.’’

The team that led the NFL in offense last season, the Saints took the opening kickoff on Saturday and in 5 minutes 31 seconds went 80 yards for a touchdown. OK, now it was Oakland’s turn.

JaMarcus Russell completed a 12-yard pass to this year’s No. 1 pick, Darrius Heyward-Bey. Then he hit Zach Miller, and the play gained them 35 yards. Maybe the Raiders could do something. Unfortunately, what they did was fumble, when the next play JaMarcus was sacked.

The Saints recovered.  In another 10 minutes 38 seconds, the score was was 14-0. Eventually it was 47-0 before backup Jeff Garcia threw a 43-yard touchdown pass for a meaningless touchdown with six minutes remaining.

“Our biggest issue,’’ said Cable, “was we were a team without a lot of zip. On offense, we couldn’t get into a rhythm. Ball security was another issue.’’

To complete the misery, cornerback Nnamdi Ashomugha, arguably the Raiders’ best player, incurred a chipped one in his wrist. He’ll be all right. But will the Raiders?

They are supposed to be improved over last season, more efficient, more effective, and yet they certainly looked like the same Raiders we’ve come to know and not love. Somebody always screws up.

“As a football team,’’ said Cable, implying that’s what the Raiders are, “we lack attention to detail.’’

That problem is supposed to fixed by the coaches, but let us not be too harsh.

“We’ll get it corrected,’’ said tight end Zach Miller, who caught three balls for 16 yards. “I’m glad it happened in a preseason game. But I’ve never felt so lousy after any game. This was embarrassing.’’

That word kept reappearing throughout the locker room, and for good reason.

“We’ll stay the course,’’ said the coach. “This is very embarrassing to me, but we’ll stay the course.’’

Persistence is fine. A little competence wouldn’t hurt either.

(ArtSpander.com Exclusive) Giants win the game they needed

SAN FRANCISCO –- A day after giving up 11 runs, the Giants gave up none. A day after it seemed like it was time to forget the season, the season is there to be remembered.

“Here we are approaching September,’’ said Bruce Bochy, the manager, “and we are playing some very important ball games.’’

Like the one Friday night, the one in which Tim Lincecum went eight innings, Pablo Sandoval hit one into the seats and Giants beat the Colorado Rockies, 2-0.

This was like 2002 all over again at AT&T -- a game that mattered, a crowd that cared, a performance that scintillated. Unseasonable heat by the Bay, a temperature of 75 degrees at game time. Unsuspected brilliance from the home nine.

Lincecum hadn’t won a game in nearly a month. The guy nicknamed the Freak, because of his windup and follow-through, had been freaky. Or star-crossed. Either he gave up too many runs, as he did against the Reds a week and a half ago, or the Giants scored two few, as they did against the Rockies six days ago.

But the good times came flying back. Lincecum struck out eight, permitted only four hits. He had 39,047 people standing when he threw his 127th pitch of the game, the ball that had Seth Smith grounding out to end the eighth.

“Tim’s the guy you want on a the mound in a game like this,’’ said Bochy. “He had great stuff.’’

He pitched like the Cy Young Award winner he was in 2008, the way the Giants and crowd expected. And then he turned it over to Brian Wilson, who picked up another save, his 31st.

Monday night the Giants were wounded, blowing that 4-2 lead in the 14th to the Rockies in Denver. Thursday night the Giants were deflated, getting crushed by Arizona, 11-0, here at AT&T.

Nice run, guys. Nobody predicted you’d be in the race, so take a bow and step away.

That’s not the Giants. We see them collapse, give them their last rites and then watch in bewilderment and admiration as they prove to be as resilient as any team in baseball.

Sandoval, the Kung Fu Panda, the Bat, was back in the lineup after the flu and a right calf problem. He drove a ball into the left field bleachers in the fifth, his 20th home run. Eugenio Velez singled home Eli Whiteside in the sixth for the other run.

This on a night when the Giants left seven runners on base in the first two innings. When Lincecum twice failed to move a runner with a sacrifice bunt. When Whiteside’s attempt at a suicide squeeze in the eighth resulted in a double play, a pop up to the first baseman and Juan Uribe getting caught off third.

So many mistakes. But one victory, a win that moved the Giants to within two games of the Rockies in the National League wild card race, a win that made late-August baseball meaningful in San Francisco for the first time in years.

“This was a big game for us,’’ said Bochy, who can be excused for stating the obvious. “Every game is a big game for us from now on. But remember, there’s a lot of baseball left.’’

A lot of baseball that may not let us turn to football. This is the time we’re supposed to think about the 49ers and Raiders, but stubbornly the Giants won’t let us.

They don’t have hitting. In some games, they don’t have fielding. But they have staying power, persistence. It is not to be underestimated.

Lose 11-0 and then 24 hours later win 2-0. This is what you want in a team, the ability to rebound, the ability to struggle and stagger but succeed.

“This is what you play for,’’ agreed Bochy. “This is what you talk about in the early season, being here at this time.’’

The Giants are here. The Giants very much are here. Not for a long while could the postseason even be considered. They could fall quickly, could drop the next two to Colorado. But they also could win the next two and be tied with the Rockies.

The Giants lead the National League in shutouts with 17. It’s a sporting axiom that if the other team doesn’t score, you’re not going to lose.

“We’re the team behind,’’ reminded Bochy. “We have to catch them.’’

On Friday night, the Giants were the team ahead. On Friday night, baseball in San Francisco was thoroughly entertaining and completely satisfying.

RealClearSports.com: Sports No Longer Respite from Messy World

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

Connect the dots if you can. The man who used to coach University of Kentucky basketball, Billy Gillispie, was arraigned on a charge of drunken driving.

The University of Wisconsin is tossing away $425,000 a year by terminating advertising agreements with MillerCoors and Anheuser-Busch in the "ongoing battle against alcohol abuse.''

No, it's not the people making the stuff who are entirely at fault, although they want us to believe you can't have a good time at a game without a brew or something stronger.

It's we folk of little self-control who cause the problem. But someone has to take a stand.

TCU and SMU did just that, but for an interesting reason. Anheuser has produced cans of Bud Light in school colors, as if the more you drink the more you're supposed to be backing the old alma mater.

According to the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, TCU's associate director of communications, Lisa Albert, said, " . . . we do not want TCU students, parents of TCU students and stakeholders of the university to think we support this program.''

This has been quite a week for sport, an activity once described in the famed 18th-century dictionary of the Englishman Samuel Johnson as "tumultuous merriment.''

How tumultuously merry would anyone consider Rick Pitino? Or the execs in the National Hockey League as they wrestle a maverick from Canada for ownership of the Phoenix Coyotes? Or the ballplayers who learn their drug tests were seized improperly by the government?

Or Mr. Gillispie -- who for loyalty's sake, we hope -- was sipping Kentucky bourbon, proving his heart was in the right place, if not his brain.

A former California governor and later U.S. Supreme Court chief justice named Earl Warren once said, "I always turn to the sports pages first. They record people's accomplishments. The front page has nothing but man's failures.''

Earl was around in the fantasy world of the 1940s and '50s, when an athlete's peccadilloes were not considered important. Jock journalists concentrated on touchdowns and runs batted in and winked at what could be judged criminal or antisocial behavior. If it didn't happen between the lines, then it didn't happen.

Sometimes -- sometimes -- you wish it were that head-in-the-sand way once more. Plaxico Burress shooting himself in the groin? The whole agonizing business with Michael Vick? These are people's accomplishments?

ESPN can get on your nerves with its self-indulgence, but the network is to be congratulated for the nightly 10 best plays of the day. For a few wonderful seconds of hand-eye coordination and dexterity, we are reminded that sport is fun and games.

Otherwise, we have Pitino acting like a would-be Clarence Darrow, defending himself and questioning the judgment of a Louisville TV station to break into a report on Ted Kennedy's death and show videotapes of the woman who claimed Pitino raped her.

Or the estranged wife of convicted NBA game-fixer ref Tim Donaghy saying he's been "treated unfairly.''

Pitino and Donaghy created their own problems. If you do things that either are stupid or illegal, or both, you pay the price.

Maybe half of what Pitino was preaching was true. "My wife and family don't deserves to suffer because of the lies,'' he said. But it's also true he had a liaison with the woman. That was no lie.

And whether Donaghy is guilty of a parole violation or just victim of a misunderstanding, well, if the man hadn't bet on games he was officiating, then he wouldn't have been sent to prison in the first place.

Sport, tumultuous merriment, has turned into a list of daily accusations and apologies. Patrick Kane, the hockey player, tried to use a cab driver as a puck, and now Kane is sorry.

Oakland Raiders head coach Tom Cable is going to be interviewed by police in Napa, Calif., about his alleged role in a confrontation that left an assistant with a battered jaw.

The world's a mess. Always has been. So we turned to sport for the presumed brief escape from that mess. For decades, we were successful because the unwritten rule was that if someone broke a rule, the possible story remained unwritten.

No longer. Earl Warren to the contrary, the failures listed on the sports pages run from Louisville to Lawrenceburg, the town where Gillispie was halted. The days of the All-American boy who was diligent and selfless are numbered.

It's been a great run for attorneys, if not so good for their clients. Someone's always making news, and except in rare cases, such as at the U. of Wisconsin, too the news is bad.

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. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www1.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/08/28/sports_no_longer_respite_from_messy_world.html
© RealClearSports 2009

RealClearSports.com: Quarterbacks, the Great and the Unknown

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

So the $40 million man goes to the bench, and the guy who nobody wanted becomes the starter. Once again, you have to wonder what goes on with pro football. Does anyone in charge have a clue? And how did 198 players get chosen before Tom Brady?

Quarterbacks have been big and expensive the last few days. Eli Manning signed an extension for $106 million. Then Philip Rivers, whose draft rights back in 2004 were traded for Manning, received an extension worth $98 million. Somebody must think these guys are important.

Because they are. It's an unarguable fact that every play starts with the quarterback touching the ball, other than that wildcat formation and punts or place kicks. In the NFL, you don't win without at the least a good one. But how do you get a good one?

The San Francisco 49ers had the first selection in the 2005 draft, took quarterback Alex Smith, gave him $40 million and now -- because of injuries and other difficulties -- he's second string behind Shaun Hill, who in his first five years in the league, four of those with Minnesota, played maybe five minutes.

Meanwhile, Brady, who's won three Super Bowls, who's considered to be no worse than the fourth best quarterback in the game and by many no worse than the very best, was taken in the sixth round.

That's better than Kurt Warner, who as we well know was a virtual outcast, had to work in a grocery store and, disproving all theories except the one that a strong arm is never to be underestimated, has played in three Super Bowls, including the most recent.

You've heard this. Drafting is not an exact science. That's a justification for making mistakes. Not that the people in charge don't have a decent understanding of what they need in a quarterback.

Manning, the No. 1 pick in 2004, won a Super Bowl. Ben Roethlisberger, the No. 11 pick in 2004, has won two Super Bowls. Rivers, fourth that same year, has had the San Diego Chargers in the playoffs. On ESPN the other day, Mike Golic was debating which of the three he would take. Interestingly, it was Rivers.

John Elway was the very first selection in the 1983 draft. He quarterbacked the Denver Broncos to the Super Bowl five times and won two of those times. No one questioned the choice or later his performance.

Alex Smith, however, was a questionable No. 1. The 49ers had the first choice. The 49ers needed a quarterback. The presumption was they would take Aaron Rodgers, from Cal, just a few miles away from the Niners' headquarters. The second-guessing has gone on for four years.

Sometimes all a quarterback needs is a chance. Sometimes it's better when he never gets that chance. We're told the best job in the NFL is backup quarterback. You're anonymous, bullet-proof. Until you're forced to play.

Literally, Shaun Hill was forced to play. He had been in Europe with the Amsterdam Admirals, the same for which Warner spent a season, and in retrospect it was a season well spent, Kurt going to the St. Louis Rams and to unforeseen success.

Joining the Vikings in 2002, Hill -- as Warner, undrafted -- virtually never crossed the sideline. Oh, they let him in a couple of times to kneel down at the end of the game, a gesture that once you're beyond high school serves no purpose. What, someone wanted Shaun to earn his letter? Or to let his family know he still was around?

He came to the Niners in 2006, and with Smith in his second year taking every snap, Hill again was a non-entity, this time in a red jersey rather than a purple one. But in 2007, Smith separated his shoulder, Trent Dilfer, No. 2, also was hurt and finally in December, Shaun Hill was throwing and handing off. And winning.

Because Mike Martz, who interestingly enough was Warner's offensive coordinator with the Rams had the same role in 2008 with the Niners, Hill was deemed not capable of directing the Martz wild-air attack. But head coach Mike Nolan was canned, Mike Singletary took over and on came Hill, the methodical sort that Singletary prefers.

Now, as Manning and Rivers receive their raises, Shaun Hill becomes a starting quarterback for a season opener for the first time. And even he seems amazed.

"It's been quite a ride,'' Hill said. "I almost made it through a whole six seasons without taking a real snap in the league, and now here I am, with an opportunity to start for one of the most storied franchises in the league, a franchise that's had great quarterbacks through its history.''

Hill isn't Joe Montana or Steve Young. Hill isn't Eli Manning or Ben Roethlisberger. He's the man nobody wanted but now the man the San Francisco 49ers need.

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. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www1.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/08/26/quarterbacks_the_great_and_the_unknown_96462.html
© RealClearSports 2009

 

SF Examiner: Singletary’s choice of Hill far from shocking

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

SAN FRANCISCO — Shaun Hill gets what every quarterback wants, the starting position. Alex Smith gets platitudes, words. Kind ones, but nevertheless words. He’s with the 49ers, but he’s not of them.

Football coaches know what to say. They make a smack in the face seem like a pat on the back.

Mike Singletary is going with Hill, hardly a surprise, since Singletary tossed him in last season when the coach no longer could tolerate J.T. O’Sullivan and the Mike Martz chaos, and since Smith is coming off a year without football.

It’s Singletary’s team, and he can do what he chooses.

Other than deny Smith is a backup.

“I don’t see backups,” Singletary insisted. “One of the things I don’t want on this team are backups. I want starters, and I want No. 2s. They’re only No. 2 because they’re not as good as the starter.”

Which, semantics to the contrary, makes them a backup.

Poor Alex. Rich Alex. He got that $40 million contract, which has since been restructured. He was the No. 1 pick in the 2005 draft, going to restore the Niners to greatness, going to follow in the golden footprints of John Brodie, Joe Montana and Steve Young.

Except he came from Utah’s spread offense, and as we’ve learned from the failings of David Klinger and Andre Ware, that college system proves a restriction in the NFL.

Then Smith not only was injured but was berated for not playing hurt by his coach at the time, Mike Nolan, the man who took Smith No. 1.

Singletary gave Smith accolades “I’m very proud of what he’s had to overcome,” said the coach.

But Singletary still gave Hill the role Smith wants so desperately.

“It’s nothing you want to hear,” Smith said of being told Hill would be starting. “Nothing you get used to hearing.” 

Shaun Hill, a one-time free agent who conceded he didn’t take a snap his first six years in the NFL, is becoming the man in charge. Alex Smith, who was supposed to take the Niners to the playoffs, is becoming, OK, not the backup, the bench-warmer.

Singletary spoke of Hill’s presence, about intangibles. What he didn’t say was he believes Hill is better for the Chicago Bears-style offense the Niners will be utilizing, which will feature Frank Gore pounding out yardage and then Hill throwing a timely completion.

The coach wants a quarterback who doesn’t lose games even more than a quarterback who tries to win them.

The gap between Hill and Smith, Singletary explained, wasn’t large. The coach, however, likes Hill’s consistency, his leadership, his experience.

Smith hasn’t played a league game in two years. He had more to prove and still has more to prove.

“He has confidence,” Singletary reminded about Hill, “and probably was feeling in his mind he was the guy all along.”

They say the best job in sports is, sorry Mr. Singletary, backup quarterback. You’re never booed, never injured. Unless you’re elevated to No. 1.

“How many quarterbacks play all year?” Smith asked rhetorically. “I wish the best for Shaun, but my job is to be ready to go. I have to have perspective.”

Sounds good, even if it’s not as good as Shaun Hill’s job as starter.

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-Singletarys-choice-of-Hill-far-from-shocking-54901302.html
Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company 

(ArtSpander Exclusive) Alex Smith shows he’s not afraid

SAN FRANCISCO -- He shows he’s not afraid. Mike Singletary was assessing one of his quarterbacks, was talking about the way Alex Smith took off after the guy who picked off one of his passes and picked him off, chased him down and then put him down with a tackle as tough as any defensive back ever could make.

It was a great play by Smith, tracking down the Oakland Raiders’ Ricky Brown, saving a touchdown. The interception, however, was not a great play. The pass wasn’t that bad, and maybe Josh Morgan who reached for the ball, deflected it, should have grabbed it. The pass wasn’t that good. It was high, the type of ball which often becomes an interception.

He was a starter again, Smith, if only briefly, if only in an exhibition game. He was trying to prove what because of bad luck and bad play he hadn’t proved in his previous four years in the NFL, that he deserved to be the first man selected in the 2005 draft, that he would be the player who would lead the San Francisco 49ers out their wilderness, out of the fog.

On Saturday night, all Alex Smith, the $35 million man proved, was he can lay a tough block, that he can run after the linebacker who intercepted pass. Otherwise, as Singletary, the Niners no-nonsense coach agreed, neither Smith nor the man whom Alex is competing against to be starter, distinguished himself.

Exhibition games, the NFL calls them preseason games so those full-fare tickets at $60 and $70 seem to have some value, don’t always prove a great deal. The Niners ended up beating the Raiders, 21-20, because after the Raiders scored late in the game they went for a two-point conversion, as a lot of journalists in attendance, wanting to avoid overtime.

So the Raiders and Niners were virtually equal, except Oakland knows its starting quarterback is JaMarcus Russell – who two years after Smith was the No. 1 pick – while the Niners are still in a quandary, if we are to believe Singletary.

“We’ll look at the film (Sunday),’’ Singletary said in that infamous coaching remark, when s someone wondered if the interception was Smith’s fault. “It’s one of those, you just have to look at it again.’’

If you look at Smith’s passer rating, you’d prefer not to look at it again. He was 4.2. Anything below the 70s or 80s is considered poor. A 4.2 is considered impossible. Alex completed 3 of 9 for only 30 yards and had the pick. Shaun Hill, who started the end of last season, had a rating of 50, completing 3 of 7 with no interceptions.

“If you look at the film,’’ agreed Smith, anticipating Singletary’s post-viewing judgment, “I think the numbers would say not much. It was better. I felt much better this week (than in the opener). I think the numbers can be deceiving. I’ll look at the film. I had a couple of throw-aways and stuff. I’ll take a look at the pick and see what I could have done differently.’’

Quarterbacks were everywhere Saturday night. The Raiders went from Russell to Jeff Garcia – remember, he was a star with the Niners when they had winning seasons to Bruce Gradkowski to Charlie Frye. For the Niners, after Smith and Hill, it was Nate Davis, who threw a TD pass, led the winning drive (or tying drive, if you ignore the try for two points by the Raiders and had a Montana-like rating of 103.

But that’s why the exhibitions are misleading. Is it your first string against their second string? Is the coach intent on developing a running game? Is the other team trying to find out whether its rookies are any good? For sure, everyone is trying to find out whether Smith will be any good.

Alex is so pleasant, so talented an athlete. But is he an NFL quarterback. At Utah, Smith played in the spread, never getting under center to take a snap. With the Niners, early on – as any rookie – he was overmatched. Then he was smacked around, incurring two serious injuries, the second of which, in year three, 2007, to his throwing shoulder, kept him out all of 2008.

His courage was questioned by then coach Mike Nolan, in front of the team. Nolan should have been here Saturday night to watch Smith cream a defender with a block and then seconds later race after and tackle Ricky Brown. Oh, and did we mention Smith in 2009 is learning from his fifth offensive coordinator in five years? Instead of faulting the kid, maybe we should credit him just for being there.

“Coming into the game,’’ Singletary said of Smith, “he knew what he had to do, as well as Shaun. It’s a matter of the coaches and myself taking a step back and saying, ‘OK, what do you do?’ and look at the film . . .It’s a matter of coming down to a decision between now and next week.’’

When it comes time, Mike Singletary won’t be afraid to make that decision, the way Alex Smith wasn’t afraid to make a tackle.

RealClearSports: Why So Outraged? Favre's Entitled to Do What He Wants

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

If we are to interpret this correctly, Brett Favre is to be condemned because he decided to get out of football and then, while a lot of people were ruminating about his career, decided to return to football. After a lot of vacillating and momentum shifts.

This business disturbed a lot of people, many of them sporting journalists, who thought Favre was being disingenuous and, even worse, using them to stay in a spotlight he not only hesitates to leave but in truth deserves a hell of a lot more than most other quarterbacks.

To which one must scream, who cares? What's with us? Brett Favre hasn't shot himself in the hip, hasn't been convicted of running down a pedestrian while intoxicated. But we're making a bigger issue of Favre's indecisiveness than of people guilty of felonies.

If it bothers you that Favre doesn't know how to exit gracefully, tough beans. Sure he's like the Packer who cried wolf, or cried literally if you remember those scenes from a couple of years back. Unless you've been there, you'll never understand.

Joe Montana, who knew a thing or two about quarterbacking, and about winning Super Bowls, having led the San Francisco 49ers to victories in four of them, kept trying to stay on when some thought he ought to depart.

Hey, the columnist said to Joe in more of a statement than a question, what do you have to prove? Go out play some golf.

"Easy for you to say,'' Montana responded. "You can retire and come back in two years. I can't. When I'm done, I'm done. So I want to stay as long as I can. I know someday I'll have to leave.''

Favre left. Then returned. Then left. Now is returning. He's 39, and one of these times, he won't be coming back. When a man has played football since the age of 8 or 10, or thereabouts, the end is traumatic. One day your life has changed forever. Favre is fighting against that change as long as possible.

A man who's been involved with the NFL for 40 years or so told me that Favre was being urged to play by those around him, especially the Minnesota Vikings. Come on, Brett, they said in so many words. This is where you belong. You're a football player, aren't you?

He's a football player and an actor, as we've seen in the Wrangler commercials, and a self-promoter. None of the above is an indictable offense. If Favre has troubles making a decision and sticking to it, that's a victimless crime. Why are we so outraged?

If you want to argue that, at age 39 and after a torn biceps, Favre no longer is either the competent leader or the presence he used to be in those glory days with the Packers, that's legitimate. But the Vikings obviously believe he's better than anyone else they have, and until proven differently, he is.

The critics complain Favre is selfish. As if that trait makes him different from any other athletic star. To be great, you have to think you're great, think you're special, have to ignore the skeptics or, in a quarterback's case, the defensive ends.

Brett Favre and Joe Montana and John Elway don't think the way we do. They just wanted the ball and enough time on the clock to get the job done. If it was the rush and self-gratification they needed, it was also the chance to do what was required of them.

It's always difficult for the fans when a longtime favorite ends up on another team, especially -- as the Vikings are for Favre's original club, the Packers -- a rival team. No, they're not overly pleased these days in Green Bay, and Brett is being referred to in terms as traitor and turncoat. Mercenary is more accurate.

All athletes in team sports are mercenaries. They get paid to play, but not without an affiliation. If the Packers don't want you, then maybe the Jets. And if not the Jets, then now the Vikes.

Too many headlines about sports figures allude to jail time and arrests. Plaxico Burress is off to the clink. Only Thursday, Tampa Bay cornerback Aqib Talib was jailed on charges of simple battery after he punched a cab driver.

All Brett Favre can be accused of is making statements that perhaps had no basis of fact. Politicians do that all the time and nobody seems to mind.

"The guys know I'm in it for the right reasons,'' Favre said on his return. Right or wrong, it isn't important. He doesn't know how to quit. The only issue is whether he still knows how to play football.

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. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www1.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/08/21/why_so_outraged_favres_entitled_to_do_what_he_wants.html
© RealClearSports 2009

RealClearSports: Raiders Controversy: Don't Ask, Don't Tell

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

NAPA, Calif. -- So nothing happened. If you don't include a coach with a smashed-up jaw. And a story changing by the day.

But this is wine country, where the Oakland Raiders practice, and why sound like sour grapes? This stuff happens all the time, doesn't it?

It's always something with the Raiders, other than winning. They've had six straight losing seasons, hardly a reflection of that mantra, "Commitment to Excellence.''

Last year the man in charge, Al Davis, fired his coach, Lane Kiffin early on, in effect for insubordination, usually something to be dealt with in the military, not pro football. Then again, these are the Raiders.

Kiffin was replaced by a tough-guy offensive line coach named Tom Cable, who was said to have sent one of his assistants to the hospital two weeks ago with what on Monday night was reported to be a punch but now is described as a shove into a cabinet.

"I wonder,'' mused cornerback Nnamdi Asomugha, as curious as anyone, "if we'll be able to get the full story or not.''

Nnamdi wasn't serious. You never get to the bottom of anything with the Raiders, other than the standings. They're the North Korea of sports.

Information is obtained from mysterious sources that hide in the mountains of Pakistan, or maybe Canton, Ohio, and must be interpreted by the State Department to determine the validity.

Secrecy always has been as important to the Raiders as throwing deep. As Cable pointed out about this he-hit-him-no-it-was-an-enraged-sparrow-flying-amok incident, "It's an internal matter.''

Except that a report filed with the Napa police describes an unnamed 41-year-old Raiders assistant being treated for a jaw injury August 5 at Queen of the Valley Hospital, maybe two miles from the team's summer headquarters. The assistant is Randy Hanson, and no, he hasn't been around for a few days.

Seemingly everybody else has. The Raiders on Tuesday and Wednesday scrimmaged their Bay Area rivals, the San Francisco 49ers, the Niners coming some 100 miles north from their training site in Santa Clara. Dozens of Northern California journalists were in attendance, drawn by the regional confrontation as well as the quest for truth.

When Cable stood up at a podium that had been placed along one sideline, he faced nine television cameras, as many microphones and notepads and tape recorders reaching practically halfway to the Golden Gate Bridge. Presidential press conferences should be as well covered.

The time-consuming introduction involved Cable's announcements of players out with injuries and comments on whether facing the Niners, who the Raiders play Saturday night in a preseason game, was more beneficial than working against teammates. Finally, the issue was raised.

And as quickly dismissed.

"Nothing happened,'' advised Cable. Something certainly was happening at the moment, a couple of dozen journalists looking at each other skeptically.

"Listen,'' said Cable, "If you want to talk about this football team and the players on this football team, I'll talk to you all day. Otherwise I'm not getting into it.''

The NFL is getting to it. League spokesman Greg Aiello said there will be an investigation to determine the facts.

Someone in the organization did concede, "Something happened, but it's being blown out of proportion. It didn't go down the way it's being reported.''

Former NFL scout Daniel Jeremiah told Chris Mortensen of ESPN that a "reliable source'' said Hanson broke a facial bone when his cheek hit a cabinet after Cable flipped him out of his chair after Hanson spoke profanely of another Raider assistant, defensive coordinator John Marshall.

Cable hasn't informed the players of anything, and in that don't ask, don't tell ideology of the Raiders, they are not about to pester him for details.

"That's for you guys to talk about,'' said guard Robert Gallery. "I have no idea what happened, if anything happened. I could (sic) care less. I worry about winning games.''

Which, when you lose them season after season, is understandable.

Six years ago, during camp, linebacker Bill Romanowski punched teammate Marcus Williams and shattered Williams' jawbone. After filing a civil suit, Williams was awarded $340,000 in damages. That same season, 2003, a year after the Raiders went to the Super Bowl, head coach Bill Callahan referred to his squad after a losing game as "the dumbest team in America.''

Dumb, smart or in between, the Raiders certainly are the most contentious team in America.

"It's just another day around here,'' said running back Justin Fargas when asked how he is dealing with the latest episode. "Things wouldn't be normal if there wasn't some controversy.''

These days for the Raiders, they are very normal.

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. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/08/19/raiders_controversy_dont_ask_dont_tell_96455.html
© RealClearSports 2009

SF Examiner: Tiger shows he’s human at PGA

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

SAN FRANCISCO — Rocky Marciano was the exception. A heavyweight champ who never never lost a fight. Retired without a blemish. For a while there, we thought Tiger Woods was similarly perfect. We should have known better.

That’s the thing about sports, no matter what sort of competition. The favorites — the 49ers of the 1980s, the Yankees of the 1960s, the Lakers of the 2000s — usually win. But not always. And sometimes when they lose, we’re in disbelief.

As when Mike Tyson fell to Buster Douglas. Or when Dennis Eckersley gave up that home run in the bottom of the ninth in the first game of the ’88 World Series to a limping Kirk Gibson. Or when Ben Hogan was beaten by a driving range pro named Jack Fleck in the 1955 U.S. Open at San Francisco’s Olympic Club.

Or when Tiger Woods was stunned on Sunday by a Korean named Y.E. (for Yong-Eun) Yang in the PGA Championship back in Minnesota.

We love the underdog, except in golf and tennis. The world was right when Arnie and Jack were champions, when McEnroe and Connors were winners. Nor was it so bad around here when the Niners were picking up Super Bowl trophies.

But change is inevitable. Surprise is inevitable. No way 37-year-old Y.E. Yang could beat Tiger. Until he beat him. Then golf became just that much more intriguing.

There’s something called the Presidents Cup coming to Harding Park in October. It’s like the Ryder Cup, except instead of facing a European-British squad, the Americans meet an international team, players from Australia and South Africa and South America and, yes, Korea.

It isn’t the PGA or the Masters, it isn’t a major, but the Presidents Cup will give us Tiger-Yang, redux. We can only hope they play at least one match against each other, singles preferably.

You know this by now, Yang, who didn’t start playing golf until 19, just smacking balls on one of those multideck driving ranges in Seoul, is the first Asian male to win a major. Korea’s going mad, as well it should.

Now it has its own entry in the game’s pantheon. Hagen, Hogan, Y.E. Yang. Great play is not the exclusive possession of any nation.

A tough year for the Stanford guys. Tom Watson, at age 59, comes within a shot of winning the British Open. Tiger Woods, at age 33, holds or shares the lead for four days of the season’s last major and gets beat.

It was stunning. Yet it was overdue. If not this tournament, then some major. The gods of sport eventually make their presence known.

Nobody’s won three Super Bowls in succession, and yes in the mind’s eye we still cringe as Roger Craig fumbles Steve Young’s handoff in the 1990 NFC playoffs.

Something goes wrong. Or for the other side goes right. Favorites lose, underdogs win. Y.E. Yang was as big an underdog as we might imagine, which made the win all the more unbelievable. And captivating.

It may never happen again, but once was enough. We thought that like death and taxes, Tiger Woods with a lead in the final round of a major was a sure thing. We should have known better.

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-Tiger-shows-hes-human-at-PGA-53632862.html
Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company