And1 and a 2

Scanning the tube makes this post possible for all freaks.
What ever happen to the AND 1 basket ball tour, you know the basketball tour where the ballers could showcase their talents as the tour came into their hometown. Maybe even have a chance to play in the exhibition game or be offered (the holy grail) a chance to play on the tour. Unfortunately, what I came across on the box was the watered down version: The Ball Up Street Ball Tour.

What I gathered from this was that all the present and former great AND1 players have been demoted to the Ball Up street Ball Tour or we ought to just rename it to the Street "D-evelopment" League.
Quick question! Are they now riding around in a van instead of a bus?

How weird were the introductions? This weird: male stompers cheering and welcoming the players. Not your scantily clad cheerleaders my friends. Stompers!
Dude Wanna Be Stompers! Like they were hired from the GAP!
Then the players high-fiving those dudes as well... awkward? Nah...that just made me feel bad for them.

I loved the fact that Dennis Rodman was one of the coaches. Loved it more when they intro'd him and he had the look of "AAh YEAH! I am getting 10G's for leaving the bar early and raising my hand up to wave to the crowd two times".


Things got a little worse during the National anthem:

Sin #1: it was sung by Stefano Lagone of American Idol Fame (finished 7th, Season 10) Who says that AI can not take you places!

Sin #2: shame on half the crowd for disrespecting Stefano in the beginning. That Span-Italian boy brought the anthem home!

Sin #3- pro Baron Davis didn't take his hat off. Big contract = little respect.
Go play overseas!

Sin #4- saluting the flag with your hands in your pocket?
(THIS ISN'T HOW WE DO IT!)
(could help but sing that part)

Commentator Roger Lodge: you were better hosting Blind Date.

Can't understand it, the inner city kids seems so drawn to you(says the sarcastic SF)

We all know who Globetrotters played: the Washington Generals
Here we got Team Ball UP, ok its their league name. I can live with that butthey played against "Dennis Rodman's Team". That's a "D minus" League name in my book.
Was it too hard to name them "The Worms" or " Men who wear dresses".
That's my contribution.


I end this rant with one thing left to say "The Worm has left the building".
Coach Worm left this game with 7.5 minutes left. Can't miss last call y'know.


The sportsfreak will keep hoisting them up them for you.

I think I'm getting a cramp

My friend Rob asked me to go jogging with him last week. Being the bestest friend ever, I agreed to a running date. What? Never mind. I would suggest to anyone who has been asked to run, find out, I mean really find out if that other person can run. I thought I knew how to read peoples athletic abilities, you know like having super hero powers. but those powers absolutely failed me on this one.

I was doomed from the beginning when he came out dressed like he was ready to run a marathon. I am talking the Addidas sweatsuit (with rip away pants) $1500 running shoes, head band , water bottle attached to a belt (what moron invented that damn thing), meanwhile I styled the basketball shorts, high tops and tshirt I woke up with on. I was gonna win ugly.

Now in my hey day, I could squeeze out five or six miles. That's where the Ray- ometer stopped. Rob said he was fine with that. Now let me tell y'all that I was not fully truthful to Rob when he asked if I ran. I did run..well..ranned...ran.
Many years ago, I got the bug to run. At first it was easy peasy lemo...fuck me...it sucked from the beginning. Lasted about two years and then I smartened up or got lazy. Smartened up sounds better right?

I had no stamina the first few weeks. Then ....Stamina became my new friend. It was like a drug man. I couldn't get enough of that dude. What they say is true. Running does give you a high. NOOO you Stoners, not munchies high. Christ..focus.
The bad thing about stamina is that one minute he is your friend, the next he is your stomach holding, side splitting, I am going to die friend.
I remember that bastard as I was running the final leg of the 6th grade 600 yard dash. I went from cruising to crawling in 50 measly yards. Pathetic.

Have you ever watched the Hawaiian Iron Man Race? There are like what? 7 million people who run that damn thing. Me not being one of them. Every year I watch this and am amazed at the different types of people who run the race. The mom with two jobs and six kids, the son running in memory of his grandpa, the ultra marathon freaks, the dad pushing his son in a wheel chair and pedaling his bike because his son has lost both his legs in the war. Most inspiring thing I ever saw.

I'll let you know I a tried my very best to keep up with Rob. He even did the pant thing and tucked them swiftly in a jogging bag he brought with him. Dude was channeling a metro sexual version of Rain Murphy. Two miles in I gave up while waving him to continue while wondering to myself "why are there pliers pinching my side?"
Sadly Rob and I broke up after one running date.


If you think you can't do something, just look round folks. Other people are doing it. That should be motivation enough.



The sportsfreak says On your mark..Get set...Read !!

When all else fails, PUNT !

As a young lad, I was never enamored by the great football position players of the era. To me Joe Montana was an ok quarterback, Lawrence Taylor was an average defensive guy, Franco Harris was a fine running back but for me the most interesting position players were the kickers. Seems weird since I can't kick a lick. My soccer skills are worse than a 6 year olds. My kickball kicks (even to this day) usually burn the ground and never go where I intend them to go. I remember kicking off the ball in some pick up football games in the park, if one in ten made it into the air, we had success. I am sure it wasn't normal to have bruises on your feet after attempting to punt a few down the field. What the matter with me feet? I can kick a tennis ball real good after a bad shot and I can keep a balloon afloat with my feet for minutes on end. It boggles my mind.

Back to the kickers of the NFL.
Garo Yepremian of the Dolphins was a favorite of mine. Until he decided to throw the ball.

I loved Jack Dempsey, dude had half a foot and still holds the record for longest field goal (40 something years by now)

The all-time favorite player of mine will always be Dave Jennings of the New York Giants. As a twelve year old, I sent him some letters. OK, about 20. I asked him tons of questions about punting, to describe his practices and most importantly for some tips on how to become a good punter or did he ever get scared of on coming lineman? To my surprise, boy was I every time I went to the mail box to find letter from the the NY Giants addressed to me. He was thoughtful enough to answer this punk kids questions with great detail and care. I think by my third letter he may have thought that I was out of for his job. He always included signed photos and some sort of Giants stickers or some of his cards. He was like my pen pal for a whole season. Thinking back on it, knowing that the kickers in the game today still don't get the respect from their peers (Ray Guy , still not in the hall.)I may have been the only kid writing to a punter. Ever.
FYI- I still have the letters and give them a read through every so often.
That my friends, takes me back.

So for all those watching the game this weekend. I ask you to give some time to observing the under-appreciated kicking game. When your punter rips one for 59 yeards with no return. You will have witnessed something special.



the sportsfreaks code:
its an Uncle right to kick his nephews in the pants an unlimited amount of times.
I know its not always funny.. nah.. its always funny.

I had hours of fun throwing the baseball off the cement base of the house to practice fielding grounders. To be as good as Willie Randolph you had to practice, practice, practice you know. Unfortunately my aim was not very good as I proceeded to break most of bottom shingles off the house with my throws. I'm sure my Pop was thrilled.

Us neighborhood kids had some epic wiffle ball games there. It was no holds barred when we played. You would think that playing with a wiffle ball and bat you we safe from breaking things and each other. Think again. Getting hit with a WF bat hurts like the dickens and did you ever get your finger caught in the ball. Everything STOPS! to surgically remove your pinched finger. But you did run around with the ball dangling from your finger to show it joyfully to everyone playing how you caught it.The yard definitely took it hard during those games. Fences were ran into, precious flower blooms were ripped from their stems in order to stay on base and moms new mulching jobs provided some tough footing during those sky high pop ups.
Hey Dad, muchas gracias for mowing the field (lawn), we were sliding an extra two or three feet just because of that.


I can't remember how this game came to be in the yard but it was fantastic.It's tough to describe, I'm sure may have been a tennis device for practice. The tennis ball was attached to a cord and it spun up and down along the metal screw top. Anyone? Help with a name? I told you it was tough to describe.Boy oh boy did we practice, we practiced so hard on that thing we broke the wire the ball was attached to. Lots of frustration was taken out on that poor thing. I'm sure it was probably happy to die.

Our parents must have really thought us kids were nuts. We would have relay races between the neighbors four yards. We'd have to navigate six fences, four gates one or two dogs, cars in driveways, Damn.. we'd be running across lawns, flower beds (good short cuts), clothes lines, sprinklers and sunbathers. That is when I got most use of my "stop watch" option on my watch (that was a quick shout out to my Facebook friends). I even used my pops old hand held stop watch at the time. Gotta get me one of those again. I got some nephews and nieces who are just like we used to be and would do anything to get timed.


there's Mom's whistle, the sportsfreaks got to go.

Four-ty ! (Degrees)

Last week I was prompted to play a round of golf by a few of the guys at the office. We took off from work for a day of golf that we soon would never forget. We heard about this golf course is South Lake County, FL that was offering free "winter" golf to all golfers. For real, dude. The only criteria for golfers was, they had to dress in their finest Florida summer clothes. This seemed like the best deal ever until you realize it was forecast to be only 41 degrees that day with a windchill factor in the low 30's. Certainly not the balmy Florida weather us sports are used to.
So donned with my flip flops, white shorts (did someone say white out?), polo shirt , shades and Gator Cap I set forth to meet up with the guys at 6:45am. Wouldn't you know it we had one guy, faking sick, who would not be joining us (FYI Andrew, we know where you live.)

To all you Northerner's, 30 something degrees down here is not a good thing. We got thin blood . Really we do. So to say it was cold was an understatement. If I could've stayed in my car with heater on while driving the the cart path I would have. But nooooo..the golf course had a few tricks up their sleeves for all those who ventured out for this special deal. We had a use a golf cart. An open air golf cart! The mere thought of driving faster to finish the round quicker quickly went away when hit with the extra cold wind it created. The crazy cart girls (those beeotches, in their thermals) were of no help. They were only serving frosty beverages (beer me!). You were not able to leave the course for any reason. But they did have Icee machines on holes 5 and 14 for those trying to keep cool. I ventured for cherry. Delicious. aaahhh Brain Freeze!

During the turn was our only reprieve from the elements. You had 15 minutes. (can you believe the bastards timed us) to warm up in the clubhouse. I'll be honest, it was the most glorious 15 minutes of my life. Then it was back out into the frozen tundra. Of all the days for the sun to be shy. This was getting worse by the minute.

To say I shot bad was an understatement. How does one stay relaxed and focused while shivering to death? My stupid chicken skin had goose bumps.

My favorite vision for the day was a foursome we passed that had painted the letters G-O-L-F on their bare chests. All you football fans think you so bad ass. HA!

In the end, with rosy cheeks and runny noses we said our good byes.
The sportsfreak enjoyed his day just being one of the guys.

The Young Ones

Who says that you can never start playing sports too early?
The past few weeks I have been lucky enough to have been a witness to, as well as a participant in a few sporting events that I will tell you about in this and future blogs.

As I walked to my assigned court I could feel my stomach getting tighter and tighter as I got closer to the gate leading to the court. I never felt like this ever in all my years of playing tennis. But today was a different day, today was the first day that I would be teaching tennis to a court full of 5 year olds. The Tot-Tennis Training Program as they call it, surely could not be that hard right? When I signed up to teach the class I was sure that I could do this with my eyes closed. I love to play tennis. I love the whole playing with anyone who wants to enjoy the sport as much as I do. This was a no brainer. But when I opened the the gate and ten little sets of wide eyes turned my way. It was, I'll admit, a little scary.
After introducing myself (FYI- Mr.Ray is much easier for the kiddos than Mr. Kubicsko) to the kids and their parents, we got down to business of having some fun. For some of the kids this was the first time on the court, much less knowing anything about how to play tennis. So our goal this day was just to introduce themselves to their racquets, the tennis balls and the court. Pink racquets for the girls and blue ones for the boys. Even kids know that! The dumping of 200 tennis balls on the court was a hit. Lots of giggles and laughing as they scrambled to pick them all up. One little girl said they felt soft like her bunny rabbit. I'll remember that one to ease the tension the next time I'm serving for a match. For some cardio, I started them marching around the lines of the court single file, then a little faster and then to an all out sprint. At that point I had to slow it down because of some kids were stumbling, bumbling, berman style. We then visited the "net". Why is it so high? Was one of the questions I got. Won't the ball go through the holes in the net? was another winner.


At the end of the first class I had 10 happy students and one even happier Coach.


Coach Sportsfreaks methods are mysterious.

Pick Me ! Pick Me !

Last week I signed up for friendly tennis tournament, signing up about 1.5 hours before the event. Warmed up relaxed and feeling loose for my match, time comes to play. Ray is not listed to participate. What?!! 64 players signed up. I know I signed up. But to no avail, I was the 65th. The Tennis Nazi announces "NO TENNIS FOR YOU!". Not sure how this could have happened, but it did. So as respectful as I could be leaving the court, I hit a ball over the fence, took my racket and went home. I think Johnny Mac would have asked me for a bit more.

I haven't felt that slighted since finding raisins in my Trick or Treat bag.

A close 2nd was last month when a guy at the Y decided he didn't want me as his 5th for a game. (Me? I'm channeling Kiki Vandeweghe, his loss.). Got him back when he asked me this week to play so he could get a run in and I told him I was not interested. Loving every minute of him sitting on the bleachers as I drained a few more practice shots. Karma!



Ultimate slights:

Being the last pick in dodge ball- if you wore glasses it was an automatic.

Having a girl being picked before you (a boy!). Boy o boy , have you got problems.

66th best college basketball team. So the teams record is 14-17. It still hurts.

Having your High-Five attempt go un-recognized. There is no smooth way to bring your arm back down and hope that no one saw you get dissed.


Even the elite of sports have their own ways of telling players about their shortcoming but try to say it in the nicest ways possible.

He is a "grinder" or "scrappy" player= fields his position...can't hit worth a damn.

That player has "intangibles" = very smart...not very talented.

A fine "complimentary" player =
you want to be a.. your never going to be a...you never were a... STAR.

A "Serviceable" big man = you take up space nicely.

A "Smart" base runner = if you run any slower, you will go backwards.

A "Utility" man = 10 more years of playing for 10 more teams around the league.

A "Middle Relief Man"= pitchers purgatory.
Can't go more than 3 1/3 in a start.. can't close a close one.




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