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Monday, 19-May-2003

 

Spurious thoughts and idle musings from the sports week just past ...

 

Here we go again ... For the fifth time in 7 years, we got ourselves a Triple Crown threat as Derby winner Funny Cide up and blew away a weak Preakness field on Saturday to set up yet another possible Belmont clincher.  If you follow the ponies, then you know that Funny Cide is the first gelding to get this close to the Trip.  Now I'm no expert on why they snip-snip a colt ... Temperament, speed, health, strength, whatever ... Clearly Funny Cide is a much better racer sans stones.  But still, you gotta figure his peeps are thinking about those missing Crown jewels and the stud fees that'll never be. 

 

And so the worst-kept secret since Jerry Jones put Bill Parcells on speed dial is out in the open ... My beloved Atlantic Coast Conference has officially invited the Canes, the Cuse and the BC Fluties to join the fun and leave the Big East twisting in the wind.  Sorry but I'm going old school on this one.  Yeah, I know a superconference means a monster stack of new football coin but the ACC is a hoops league and adding three teams will kill the intimate home-and-home schedule that ignites many a cold winter night.  Believe me, as much as I loathe the Evil Empire, I live for that pair of games and I'm gonna whine big time if they're gone.  So heads up.

 

Now having said that, we still had plenty of giggles on hand as the ACC made its move last week.  First was the large gulp as everyone, Southern sportswriters included, realized this'll mean road trips to Syracuse, New York, home of the 40-foot snow drift.  But for sheer comedy heaven, nothing topped the loud chest thumps coming from Clemson who openly lusted for a Miami football rivalry.  Yeah, good one, Tiggs, seeing as how you've mastered the art of the 7-5 record ever since the Criminoles signed on.  If you're in a division with those two, you might as well just include Tangerine Bowl tickets along with your regular season packets.

 

Get ready for lots of Texas Two-Step headlines as my Dallas Mavs and San Antone meet in the first Lakerless West finals of the new millennium.  Not that these two stud teams are full of Texans mind you.  No, we got Germany, France, Argentina, Mexico and Canada all represented in this seven-gamer.  Must be hell going through customs with all those passports.

 

Ain't no flies on the Peaking Ducks as the Anaheimers swept the Wild and advanced to Lord Stanley's final round for the first time ever.  Naturally, the big story was the ziplock play of goalie Jean-Sebastien Giguere who allowed just one Minnesota goal in the four-game quackjob.  Of course, hot goaltending is nothing new.  Seems like every year some team rides a sizzling goalie to sudden fame and fortune.  Only problem is you never know who it'll be.  Small wonder Disney wants to sell the Ducks.  I mean, they can script Emilio Estevez as a hockey coach but who'd ever believe a jebeep with three French names stopping 99.2% ???  Mon dieu.

 

Well, that's one way to miss the next two months of the Mets season, Mike Piazza.

 

Two years ago, near the end of the Carolina Panthers trainwreck 1-15 season, a friend asked me what I thought was wrong with the sorryass team.  Hell, I dunno, I said, but some of it's gotta be just plain bad luck.  I mean, look at the record books ... It has to be just as hard to lose 15 straight as it is to win 'em, don'tcha think ???  Well, the Carolina Cobras, our new Arena Football League team, just finished their first season with a rock bottom 0-16 record.  But wait, that's not all ... The average Cobra score was 55-34 which of course means the Fangless Wonders lost each game by three touchdowns.  Now that ain't bad luck.

 

Man, talk about a hot seat ... No, not Joe Torre if the Yanks continue their little mini-swoon.  No, we're talking Formula One driver extraordinaire Michael Schumacher who sat in his flaming Ferrari during yesterday's Austrian Grand Prix calmly waiting for his pit pals to douse the spilled fuel fire and get him back in the race ... Which he won.  You know, I gotta be honest here.  With or without cojones, wild horses couldn't get me in an F1 car let alone keep racing it after I've been, you know, like on fire and everything.  Hard to believe, Harry.

 

Beverly Hills Country Club, how may I help you ???  Good morning, Mr O'Neal, please hold ... Beverly Hills Country Club, how may I help you ???  Good morning, Mr Bryant, please hold ... Beverly Hills Country Club, how may I help you ???  Good morning, Mr Fisher, please hold ... Beverly Hills Country Club, how may I help you ???  Good morning, Mr Horry, please hold ... Beverly Hills Country Club, how may I help you ???  Good morning, Mr Fox, please hold.

 

Rest in peace, Dave DeBusschere.  Alongside the Joe Willies and the Amazins, your 1970 Knicks might just be the only universally beloved New York teams of old.  So you got that going for you which is nice.

 

See ya nexted week ...

 

Robert E Hunt Jr

 

Copyright ã 2003 by Robert E Hunt Jr.  All rights reserved.